The Three~Legged Tiger



  The Quite Unusual Tale of

  The Three Legged Tiger

  A tale from the Lost Forest

  By Rachael Long

  Copyright 2015 Rachael Long

  All rights reserved

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be

  Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  What is the Lost Forest?

  Once, on the African savannah,

  a group of trees decided to join together and form a wood.

  Over many years the wood grew into a forest and even got itself a name...

  However, the forest’s name soon became forgotten

  and instead everyone called the forest,

  The Lost Forest.

  Inside the forest lived many different animals ~

  this is the quite unusual tale of just one...

  Discover other titles by Rachael Long

  including more Lost Forest stories

  The Quite Unusual Tale of

  The Three Legged Tiger

  Contents

  Part One

  Being where it all begins

  The stork gets chased, a tiger falls from the sky,

  Some spying goes on

  and it all comes together to

  form the beginning.

  Part Two

  The bit that only makes sense

  after the beginning

  Things happen…the tree monkeys discuss tea,

  The tiger jumps off a branch,

  rides a hippo and

  discovers the forest has a dragon…

  Part Three

  Being the part sometime before

  The Ending

  The tree monkeys fall out of a tree,

  team up with the tiger,

  and come across a pack of

  chess-playing hyenas.

  Part Four

  Being the part that comes

  just before, and leads onto and into

  The End

  The sloth’s gloomy clearing is visited,

  the dragon shows itself,

  the tree monkeys get rescued and

  someone leaves the forest quite quickly.

  The Three Legged Tiger

  Once there was a time when after breakfast there was nothing, saving that is, for a cup of coffee and a piece of cake, a biscuit or perhaps a bun at eleven o' clock. This was universally known to all those in-the-know, as elevenses. Then there was nothing. Nothing until lunchtime. This led to some quite serious problems, particularly for those arising after breakfast time but before lunchtime. For them, there was nothing to eat; nothing to fill the gaping, hungerous void of mid-morning. More so indeed if they were not observers of the 11.00 o' clock ritual of elevenses…

  It is often said that for want of a missed breakfast and a far-too-off lunchtime, many a battle was lost, many a creative impulse undeveloped and many a love affair unrequited. La douleur exquise as the French were wont to mutter whilst their tumblies did go rumbly.

  To remedy this crevice-like hole, Brunch was invented; a delightful portmanteau of breakfast and lunch and able to be partaken until as late as 3.00 pm. The world rejoiced! Especially the late sleepers. And so it is at brunch time that we venture into the Lost Forest, most likely on a Saturday...

  The stork, self-appointed caretaker of the Lost Forest, was not having a particularly nice Saturday experience. He would have called it a bad day but having recently come into possession of a paperback edition of 'The Guide To Higher Multidimensional Vocabulary’; he decided it was an experience...

  Unusually panicked and somewhat scared, the stork was running at quite some speed through a less dense part of the Lost Forest toward a small open clearing. As he ran he was desperately flicking through the Guide for an answer, any sort of answer, to help his predicament.

  “Ah-ha. Page 172...”

  The stork was also talking to himself in a very loud, breathless and nervous voice.

  “Right, page 172...here…here we are...”

  'strategic intervention using vertical integration as a pathway to...'

  “to...to where? Ah, here...”

  'Forward integration! Forward Integration is a strategy whereby an individual is able to gain ownership and/or increased control over a potentially awkward or perilous situation...'

  “Perfect. Forward Integration must mean…what? I…keep…running…faster! And, and oh, err...”

  The stork glanced quickly over his shoulder and then up ahead. Another six strides and he was into the clearing. He stuffed the guide into a pocket and began furiously flapping his wings as he continued running. “Forward Integration!” He shouted as he hopped trying to get airborne, but he was fast becoming tired. He hopped again, flapping his wings even harder. Nothing. Nothing except panic. Then he tripped and almost fell to the ground. Recovering, he hopped and planted both feet on the ground and jumped and flapped and…he was in the air!

  ~~~

  Almost at about the same time as the stork was running from…well, more of that later. Except to say, he was running from something... Up above the Lost Forest, a different sort of thing was happening…

  Typhon-the-Tiger (pronounced Tee-fon the Tee-ger) was having a bit of a spat, as opposed to a bit of a sprat, which is a rather small fish, and something this tee-ger was not prone to eating. Perhaps some explanation, or back-story filling in is needed?

  Typhon was a tigress and by her own description, an adventurer and explorer and, as she will repeat herself a little later, had been in the Himalayan foothills of Nepal where she had, for reasons she will also explain later after repeating the bit about the Nepalese Himalayan foothills, hired the services of two rather large birds to fly her out of the said foothills.

  Needless-to-say, in spite of all this, she was now high above the Lost Forest and having trouble with her chosen method of transport; two rather large birds, that is to say, Giant Himalayan Griffon Vultures.

  The Giant Himalayan Griffon Vulture is native to the Himalayan foothills of Nepal and is often easily, if somewhat inadvisably, hired to carry large and/or heavy objects over short and sometimes long distances. But hiring a vulture can be a little expensive because, for Health and Safety reasons, Giant Himalayan Griffon Vultures only ever fly in pairs.

  This particular pair of Giant Himalayan Griffon Vultures had decided carrying a tiger or even tigress some 5,000 miles as they already had, was probably more than enough. Especially as they had the same 5,000 miles to fly all over again to get back home. Because of this, they decided two things;

  Firstly, to save time and energy they would not touch down, that is land, and

  Secondly, in accordance with Rule 789(a) Clause 3c of the Himalayan Brotherhood of Giant Himalayan Griffon Vultures and Affiliated Creatures Union Handbook, they would call a yak-butter tea break. (It should be noted that Giant Himalayan Griffon Vultures only ever drink yak-butter tea)

  Brewing up tea, or in this case yak-butter tea, is a relatively simple and straight forward business…unless you just happen to be quite high up in the sky and the wings you were using for flying are now being used for brewing up yak-butter tea… But first the vultures thought it only polite to inform their passenger.

  “Tiger, tiger, we have now reached your destination…”

  Typhon looked down, the ground seemed an awfully long way below. No doubt, she thought, they would soon start their descent.

  “Tiger, tiger, please gather together your luggage and prepare for disembarking.”

  Typhon was a little puzzled. “Where are we going to land? I can’t see any landing area.”

  “Tiger, tiger, you will need to slide off our backs and parachute your way do
wn. We will not be landing as, union rules dictate, we must now take a tea break,” and with that the Giant Himalayan Griffon Vultures began their tea break, their yak-butter tea break.

  Not surprisingly Typhon took exception to this; they hadn’t offered her a cup of tea for one and for two, one immediate effect of using wings that were being used for flying, for making and drinking tea instead, even yak-butter tea, was a very sudden and rapid loss of height. Also thirdly, no one had told her she would need a parachute and, it seemed, one was not about to be provided…

  However, as it is clearly stated in the Himalayan Brotherhood of Giant Himalayan Griffon Vultures and Affiliated Creatures Union Handbook,

  …once a tea break has been called or announced (yak-butter or otherwise) it must be actioned and cannot be declared over or finished until at least half a cup of tea (yak-butter or otherwise) has been consumed…

  It was at this point Typhon and the Giant Himalayan Griffon Vultures parted company. Or put another way, fell out of the sky. Luckily for the vultures they finished their yak-butter tea in time to avoid hitting the ground and were able to fly back up skywards and disappear into the clouds. Typhon, as it turned out, was also quite fortunate…

  ~~~

  Meanwhile back in the Lost Forest…

  The stork, barely in the air, closed his eyes and beat his wings as hard as he could, panting and gasping all the time. Slowly he could feel himself getting higher, putting more distance between himself and the ground until…

  THUD!

  The stork hit the trunk of, quite possibly, one of the largest trees in the Lost Forest. As he slid down the tree’s trunk, he tried to grip on but his wings were now too tired. However, luckily for the stork, a large branch halted his ungainly slide and, even more fortunately, the large branch was a good height from the ground. The tree was particularly proud of its large branches. Indeed, if this tree was minded to brag, (a conceit that trees tend not to be prone to, excepting Norwegian blue pines, which are a case of and on their own) it would point out that smaller, lesser trees, (yes including Norwegian blue pines) would be proud to have trunks as big as its branches!

  Thankful, the stork slumped back on the branch and breathed deeply. Indeed he could have happily remained there for the rest of what was left of the day except less than five minutes later, he was almost hit from above be an unfurling rope.

  “Is it safe?” A voice whispered from somewhere above him.

  “Is it safe?” The stork repeated.

  “Is it safe?” The voice echoed back.

  “Erm, yes,” the stork replied, feeling the branch,” it’s…safe…”

  “Yes,” the voice came back, “safe...”

  The stork propped himself up and watched as first one then two orange-coloured legs emerged out of the tree’s canopy and, followed by a torso, slid down the unfurled rope. Feeling a little uneasy, the stork shuffled further along the branch, away from the descending creature.

  “Are you a…tiger?” the stork asked, quickly adding, “I don’t think I’d taste very good you know. Not much meat on me. Storks tend to be all feather and bone.”

  Landing nimbly and confidently on the branch, the tiger smiled, “Yes, I am a tiger, tigress actually but tiger does just as well and is what I prefer. My name is Typhon and I am the last of the great Greek tigers.” She clicked her fingers and the rope she had descended on dropped to the branch, coiling itself neatly at her feet. She stroked her whiskers, smiled and said, “Indian rope trick,” and picked up the coiled rope and tucked it into a bag that was slung across her shoulder. “Fear not,” she purred, “I do not wish to eat you.”

  “I always thought, if you’ll forgive me,” began the stork moving the subject away from food, “that in the Indian rope trick, the rope goes up not down?”

  Typhon-the-Tiger smiled again. “This is a cunning variation. Never fails to work! But even in the original Indian rope trick, the rope eventually has to come down.”

  Hmm…the stork thought to himself, dropping a rope down is not much of a trick, it will always tend to work. He looked the tigress over; only three limbs and one eye – perhaps not much of a threat after all. “Tell me, what happened to your arm?”

  Typhon clasped her left shoulder. “Alas, not a hunting accident, although I am, naturally, a supreme hunter. No, I lost my left arm when a particularly quarrelsome lion named Maximus Catus of the Circus Roderick, attacked me. I was the circus’s lion tamer. They took me in when I was but a young and orphaned cub and taught me the skills and artistry of lion taming.” The tiger paused, reflecting then continued; “And the loss of my right eye, before you ask? Let me just say, that was something completely different... Sadly, there is not much call these days for a one-armed, one-eyed lion-taming Greek tigress. In fact, I am most likely the last of the great-lost family of Greek tigers. These days I am more of an adventurer and explorer.”

  The stork nodded, wondering just how he had managed to end up on a high tree branch with a Greek tiger or even tigress?

  “Tell me Filos, what is a stork such as yourself, doing on a branch such as this?” Typhon-the-Tiger tended to call everyone Filos, even when she knew their real name.

  The stork sighed and pointed down to the ground.

  ~~~

  Some distance away from the tree the stork and tiger were in, two tree monkeys were spying on them, using a rather well travelled, rusty telescope.

  “What’s the stork doing now? He hasn't died has he?” said the second tree monkey to the first. “Bit of a bad deal if he has. I mean, climbing all that way or was it sliding or elegantly falling, only to...peg out? If we were closer we could give him a prod and see if he is you know, erm…dead.”

  The first tree monkey squinted through the telescope and thought for a moment then shook his head. “No, he moved. I think he was just resting. Now he looks like he’s talking to an orange stripy thing that has just appeared. They’re both on the same branch.”

  The second tree monkey nodded sagely and wondered if it was possible, should such a thing exist, to live in a giant sage tree. He stroked his chin for a moment then put the thought to one side. Turning back to the first tree monkey he said, “That orange stripy thing the stork is talking to…”

  The first tree monkey put down the telescope and looked at the second tree monkey. “I know exactly what you are going to say, ” he said.

  A little earlier the two tree monkeys had been enjoying a leisurely brunch in their tree house, when they noticed something falling from the sky. Not having the telescope to hand at the time, they surmised the falling object, in view of its not resembling a fireball, even though it was orange, was probably not an Extinction Level Event Meteorite but more likely Bob-‘I’m more of a soarer then a flyer’-the-Bald-Eagle. Bob was renowned within the Lost Forest for his inability to fly. He could glide and soar but flying was beyond him and his attempts usually ended in a fall from the sky.

  The tree monkeys had tracked the falling object; possibly Bob-the-Bald-Eagle and most likely not an Extinction Level Event Meteorite to where it had landed, or crash-landed - the canopy of the tree where the stork was resting.

  The first tree monkey continued, “I really do know what you’re thinking.” He grinned, “You are thinking, that stripy orange thing is most likely Bob-the-Bald-Eagle in disguise, in a pair of orange overalls.”

  “Orange, stripy overalls,” corrected the second tree monkey.

  The first tree monkey yawned and put the telescope back up to his eye. He shook his head; “I’m not so sure it is Bob in disguise, you know. Unless there is a fancy dress party going on that we don’t know about. Wait, whoever or whatever it is, is now looking down at the ground. We may have a jumper or even jumpers!”

  ~~~

  “Well, Filos,” Typhon-the-Tiger smiled, “You must have done something very bad to have upset that many hippo and rhino beasts.” The tiger peered down from the branch at the ground, where a crowd of rhinoceros and hippopotamus were slow
ly circling the tree.

  The stork sat up and nodded. “It didn’t seem that bad at the time but…” He shrugged and explained; “The rhinos and hippos play soccer against each other every week and usually a zebra referees for them. But this week…well, it seems the zebra had had enough of the constant bickering and fighting and cheating of the two teams. He quit. Naturally, hippos and rhinos not being the most understanding of creatures took offence and, would you believe it, tore off some of his stripes! Unfortunately, I was in the wrong place at the wrong time and before I had heard about the zebra and his stripes, I foolishly agreed to referee for them.”

  Typhon-the-Tiger nodded. “But Filos,” she asked, “How did you upset them?”

  “Ah,” the stork rolled his eyes. “For some reason best known to themselves, both teams play in the same colour strip. It makes things very confusing, as I discovered when I sent a rhino off for making a foul and gave the hippos a free kick.”

  “I know nothing of the rules of soccer,” said the tiger, “but that seems to be quite fair.”

  “Yes, seemed quite fair,” agreed the stork. “Except I got it the wrong way round. It should have been, hippo off and free kick to rhinos. I then made things rather worse by telling them just what I thought of them both wearing the same colour strip! Then I ran! And naturally, they chased after me…and here I am.”