The Wildings by Nilanjana Roy Page A

Katar responded.
    The clatter of Bigfeet rose up from the lane at the back of the House. The tom used his whiskers to signal to the other two that they should take cover, and by the time the Bigfoot—a clumsy, shambling fellow—rounded the corner, the three cats were shadows in the undergrowth, Southpaw to the right near the Shuttered House, the other two further to the left. The Bigfeet usually avoided the area, though they would have been hard pressed to explain what kept them away—something in the atmosphere made most of them take an instinctive detour around it. Though birds nested in the tangled hedges and made their homes in the trees, they were quieter here. The bulbul songbirds and sparrows called out occasionally, but the stillness was unbroken by the raucous squabbles of the babblers or the endless chatter of the mynahs.
    This Bigfoot seemed in a hurry, and was probably taking ashortcut. He passed within a foot of Southpaw, who looked up at his white pajamas, marvelling for the umpteenth time at the remarkable obliviousness of Bigfeet. The kitten thought it must be the lack of whiskers, or perhaps they just couldn’t smell very well.
    Miao made them wait until she was certain that the Bigfoot wouldn’t return. She and Katar rested, cat-fashion, the tom letting his whiskers stay outstretched and alert, but allowing his eyes to close and his chin to drop as he drowsed for a few moments.
    The kitten, at a slight distance from the two adults, was restless, far too excited to catnap, and from under her eyelids, Miao watched him, pleased that he managed to stay still. His pink nose twitched every few seconds, trying to make sense of the tangle of smells coming his way from the Shuttered House.
    Far above their heads, a cheel shrieked, its cry breaking the silence. Southpaw looked up, wondering whether it was the same bird that had attacked him. The sound had made them all jump; but that was followed by another sound, an ominous rustling in the bushes on the other side of the house.
    The attack came so swiftly it took them all by surprise. Miao’s whiskers crackled a warning: “Watch out! Dog!” and then the Siamese was springing up a tree, hissing as a massive black dog barked at her heels. Katar saw that the kitten was frozen in position, and began to run towards him; but the tomcat had to swerve when the dog abandoned Miao’s tree and bounded in his direction, growling and baring its teeth.
    To Southpaw, the dog seemed as large as a cow—he had never seen one of the beasts at such close quarters, and as itsnapped at Katar’s tail, the kitten closed his eyes and shivered. But he had to look, and to his relief, Katar was in control.
    The tom streaked away at a fast clip, but when the dog followed, Katar braked at the edge of a clump of acacia, turned, arched his back and hissed. Alarmed, the dog fell back, barking; the tomcat had fluffed his fur to twice his size, and Miao was joining in from her high perch, issuing blood-curdling screeches into the air.
    The dog laid its ears flat, looking from one cat to another. Katar continued hissing, though Southpaw could see that the tomcat had an escape route in mind: at need, he could do a quick about-turn and climb up into the friendly branches of a large magnolia tree. It seemed as though they would be safe after all. The dog turned. It ignored Katar’s hisses and Miao’s fighting yowls, and Southpaw found himself looking into its menacing red eyes, at the flecks of foam on its glossy black jowls.
    The dog lolloped towards him.
    “Run, Southpaw!” he heard Katar say from what seemed like a great distance away. “Towards the trees—at the back, Southpaw!” Miao said. The kitten was unable to move his paws. He watched in horror as the dog came steadily closer and closer. Its teeth were bared, and Southpaw could imagine what it would feel like when those large fangs tore through his skin.
    And then, from deep inside the Shuttered House, the kitten heard a mocking