Chapter Fifteen: In Which Mad Pete and Ethel return.

It was not until Ralph the Timid and Ginger McSporran (and an ominously growling sack) began walking back towards where Ralph thought he had left Mad Pete and Ethel, the Unexpectedly Large Warbler, that he realised quite how far he had come through the caves. It seems to take an inordinately long time to walk back, although there were probably two contributing factors to this.
First, that they were walking uphill, which is always a bit slower than downhill, and also that they were outside, so Ralph could tell by the light that it was later than he had thought, and it is a classic trick of time that it goes faster if you're trying to get somewhere before it gets dark.Well, that might be two points just there, in which case there was a third contributing factor.
This contributing factor that may have been the second or the third was as follows. Ralph did not know exactly where he had left them. In fact he had no idea. He had travelled a fair distance underground and there had been lots of twisting and turning about. And he was approaching from a different direction so he had no landmarks to go by. As Ralph and the black beast of the caves walked on and on, through clearings and around thickets and peering over piles of rocks that looked vaguely similar to the opening of the cave where Ralph had gone in, Ralph could feel himself going redder and redder. He was so embarrassed. He prided himself on his woodmanship skills and his ability to not get lost, and here he was, lost!
Eventually, when his skin felt like a herd of tomatoes had had a horrible accident with some fire trucks, he admitted his problem to Ginger McSporran.McSporran laughed, and Twinkle made an exclamatory noise that may or may not have been "Reoow!!" but was definitely something along those lines."Not to worry, young Ralph," said Ginger McSporran cheerfully, hoisting the cat in the bag higher on his winged shoulder. "I know all the entrances to my caves around here. It's my job after all."
So Ginger McSporran took the lead and very soon the strains of the evening song of the Unexpectedly Large Warbler were heard on the twilight air. As the song grew louder, Ralph noticed that the growling from the sack on Ginger McSporran's shoulder was getting quieter.
"Is Twinkle all right?" he asked in concern. Even if the cat didn't like him much, he didn't want it to get hurt from being carried around in a sack.
Ginger McSporran chuckled cheeringly in his luminous teeth baring way - it looked, if it was possible, even more disturbing when the black beast of the caves was not actually IN the caves. "He's fine, don't worry about ol' Twinkle."
"But -" said Ralph. "He's stopped growling."
Ginger McSporran laughed even more cheerfully. "Oh that! That's just because he can hear yon Ethel singing, and he's a bit scared of her. He likes his birds a wee bit smaller than the Unexpectedly Large Warbler, and he knows she doesn't like him very much."
Ralph laughed and suddenly felt very fond of Ethel. His ankle still hurt a bit where Twinkle had bit it. He could see that the bird would look large and omnipotent from the cat's point of view.
The song of the Unexpectedly Large Warbler was very loud by now, and the travellers rounded a stand of trees to come upon the rocky outcropping where Ralph had first entered the cave.
Mad Pete had made a little fire and was roasting some pink and white things on a stick. They could possibly have been marshmallows, though Ralph wasn't close enough to tell. Ethel was sitting on a large branch, which was sagging under her weight despite its size, and warbling happily to herself.
Mad Pete looked up as they appeared. "So you're back, young Ralph? And you've brought Ginger with you? Nice to see you, McSporran!" He waved the stick with the marshmallows on in the direction of the black beast of the cave in a form of greeting. Ginger McSporran nodded his head in solemn response.
"So, young adventurer! Do you have my parcel?" Mad Pete looked hopeful.
Ralph hesitated for a second. "No, Mad Pete." he said at last. "There was no parcel for you in the cave."
Mad Pete looked hurt. "But I know it was there!"
Ralph sat down by the fire, next to his things. They were still sitting almost exactly where he had left them, in a nice tidy pile. "Well, there was a parcel, Mad Pete, but it's not for you. It's addressed to a man called Boris Blockoff, who lives in a place called Rangville on the Low Plains."
"but!" said Mad Pete.
Ralph continued, as if he hadn't spoken. " I'm going to take the parcel to this Boris Blockoff man, and if you want the parcel you can take it up with him."
Mad Pete looked sulkily, but surprisingly acquiesed. "Want a marshmallow?"
Ralph and Ginger both shook their heads. "Suit yourselves." Mad Pete sucked them off the stick with relish. That's relish as in enjoyment, not relish as in pickle made of fruit or cucumbers. He was mad, but not THAT mad.
After he had eaten the marshmallows he spoke again. "Well, you may as way sleep here and share my fire. No use crying over split milk, eh?"
To Ralph's great surprise Ginger McSporran agreed to this plan. He tried to make eye contact with the black beast of the caves, to no avail. His attempt at telepathy, thinking very hard in Ginger McSporran's direction "but he'll try and steal the parcel in the night!", was similarly ineffective. It merely gave him a headache.
Feeling a bit defeated, Ralph gave the parcel to Ginger McSporran to look after for the night. At least then it wouldn't be his fault if Mad Pete absconded with it.
But it looked as if Mad Pete had no such intention. He curled himself into a ball by the fire and was asleep before the sun went down. Ginger McSporran propped himself against the rocks with a purring sack on his knee (Twinkle refused to come out while Ethel was there) and the parcel under one arm. Ralph settled himself by the fire opposite Mad Pete, and sleep slowly crept over him while Ethel warbled happily long into the night.
He could hear her song as he drifted into sleep - warble warble warble warble tweet warble warble warble warble warble warble warble...It was peaceful and beautiful and it went on and on. Ralph the Timid had wanted to go through the events of the day and think if any progress on finding his purpose had been made but before he knew it he was asleep.
And Ethel, the Unexpectedly Large Warbler, warbled on into the night.

(Word Count: 18455)