'We can do anything that's not forbidden!' cried another, turning somersaults in the air. 'And who's going to forbid us? We're the Shlamoofs!'
'Who's going to forbid us anything?' all cried in chorus. 'We're the Shlamoofs!'
I am!' cried Bastian.
'The whatchamaycallim,' the first clown explained to the others, 'says "I."'
'You?' said the others. 'How can you forbid us anything?'
'No,' said the first. 'Not I. The whatchamaycallim says "he." '
'Why does the whatchamaycallim say "he"?' the others wanted to know. 'And who is he saying "he" to in the first place?'
'Who are you saying "he" to?' the first butterfly-clown called down to Bastian.
I didn't say "he," ' Bastian screamed, half fuming, half laughing. 'I said I forbid you to wreck this tower.'
'He forbids us,' said the first clown to the others, 'to wreck this tower.'
'Who does?' inquired one who had just turned up from the far end of the glen.
'The whatchamaycallim,' the others replied.
T don't know any whatchamaycallim,' said the newcomer. 'Who is he anyway?'
The first sang out: 'Hey, whatchamaycallim, who are you anyway?'
'I'm not a whatchamaycallim,' said Bastian, who by then was moderately angry. 'I'm Bastian Balthazar Bux, and I turned you into Shlamoofs so you wouldn't have to cry and moan the whole time. Last night you were still miserable Acharis. It wouldn't hurt to show your benefactor some respect.'
The Shlamoofs all stopped hopping and dancing at once and stood gaping at Bastian. A breathless silence fell.
'What did the whatchamaycallim say?' whispered a butterfly-clown at the edge of the crowd, but his next-door neighbor cracked him on the head so hard that his hat slid down over his eyes and ears, and all the others went: 'Psst!'
'Would you be so kind as to repeat all that very slowly and distinctly,' the first butterfly-clown requested.
I am your benefactor!' cried Bastian.
This threw the Shlamoofs into an incredible state of agitation. One passed the word on to the next and in the end the innumerable creatures, who up until then had been scattered all over the glen, gathered into a knot around Bastian, shouting in one another's ears.
'Did you hear that? He's our bemmafixer! His name is Nastiban Baltebux! No, it's Buxian Banninector. Rubbish, it's Saratit Buxi-bem! No, it's Baldrian Hix! Shlux! Babeltran Billy-scooter! Nix! Flax! Trix!' Beside themselves with enthusiasm, they shook hands all around, tipped their hats to one another, and raised great clouds of dust by slapping one another on the back or belly.
'We're so lucky!' they cried. 'Three cheers for Buxifactor Zanzibar Bastelben!'
Screaming and laughing, the whole great swarm shot upward and whirled away. The hubbub died down in the distance.
Bastian stood there hardly knowing what his right name was. .By that time he wasn't so sure he had really done a good deed.
XIX.
The Traveling Companions
UNBEAMS were fighting their way through the cloud cover as the travelers started out that morning. At last the rain and wind had let up. In the course of the morning the travelers ran into two or three sudden showers, but then there was a marked improvement in the weather, and it seemed to grow warmer by the minute.
The three knights were in a merry mood; they laughed and joked and played all sorts of tricks on one another. But Bastian seemed quiet and out of sorts as he rode ahead on his mule. And the knights had far too much respect for him to break in on his thoughts.
The rocky high plateau over which they were riding seemed endless. But little by little the trees became larger and more frequent.
Atreyu had noticed Bastian's bad humor. When he and Falkor started on their usual reconnaissance flight, he asked the luckdragon what he could do to cheer his friend up. Falkor rolled his ruby-red eyeballs and answered: 'That's easy - didn't he want to ride on When some time later the little band rounded a jutting cliff, they found Atreyu and the luckdragon lying comfortably in the sun.
Bastian looked at them in amazement.
'Are you tired?' he asked.
'Not at all,' said Atreyu. 'I just wanted to ask if you'd let me ride Yikka for a while. I've never ridden a mule. It must be wonderful, because you never seem to get sick of it. I'll lend you my old Falkor in return.'
Bastian flushed with pleasure.
Ts that true, Falkor?' he asked. 'You wouldn't mind carrying me?'
'Of course not, all-powerful sultan,' said the dragon with a wink. 'Hop on and hold tight.'
Without touching the ground, Bastian vaulted directly from mule to dragon back and clutched the silvery-white mane as Falkor took off.
Bastian hadn't forgotten how Grograman had carried him through the Desert of Colors. But riding a white luckdragon was something else again. If sweeping over the ground on the back of the fiery lion had been like a cry of ecstasy, this gentle rising and falling as the dragon adjusted his movements to the air currents was like a song, now soft and sweet, now triumphant with power. Especially when Falkor was looping the loop, when his mane, his fangs, and the long fringes on his limbs flashed through the air like white flames, it seemed to Bastian that the winds were singing in chorus.
Toward noon they sighted the others and landed. The ground party had pitched camp beside a brook in a sunlit meadow. There was a flatbread to eat and a kettle of soup was cooking over a wood fire. The horses and the mule were grazing nearby. . When the meal was over, the three knights decided to go hunting, for supplies, especially of meat, were running low. They had heard the cry of pheasants in the thicket, and there seemed to be hares as well. Knowing the Greenskins to be great hunters, they asked Atreyu to join them, but he declined. Thereupon the knights took their long bows, buckled on their quivers full of arrows, and went off to the woods.
Atreyu, Falkor, and Bastian stayed behind.
After a short silence, Atreyu suggested: 'How about telling us a little more about your world, Bastian?'
'What would interest you?' Bastian asked.
Atreyu turned to the luckdragon: 'What do you say, Falkor?'
'I'd like to hear something about the children in your school,' said the dragon.
Bastian seemed bewildered. 'What children?' he asked.
'The ones who made fun of you,' said Falkor.
'Children who made fun of me?' Bastian repeated. T don't know of any children - and I'm sure no child would have dared to make fun of me.'
Atreyu broke in: 'But you must remember that you went to school.'
'Yes,' said Bastian thoughtfully. T remember school. Yes, that's right.'
Atreyu and Falkor exchanged glances.
I was afraid of that,' Atreyu muttered.
'Afraid of what?'
'You've lost some more of your memory,' said Atreyu gravely.
'This time it came of changing the Acharis into Shlamoofs. You shouldn't have done that.'
'Bastian Balthazar Bux,' said the luckdragon - and his tone seemed almost stern - 'if my advice means anything to you, stop using the power that AUR YN gives you. If you don't, you're likely to lose your last memories, and without memory how will you ever find your way back to where you came from?'
'To tell the truth,' said Bastian, I don't want to go back anymore.'
Atreyu was horrified. 'But you have to go back. You have to go back and straighten out your world so humans will start coming to Fantastica again. Otherwise Fantastica will disappear sooner or later, and all our trouble will have been wasted.'
At that point Bastian felt rather offended. 'But I'm still here,' he protested. 'It's been only a little while since I gave Moon Child her new name.'
Atreyu could think of nothing to say. But then Falkor spoke up. 'Now,' he said, 'I see why we haven't made the slightest progress in finding Bastian's way back. If he himself doesn't want to ...'
'Bastian,' said Atreyu almost pleadingly. 'Isn't there anything that draws you? Something you love? Don't you ever think of your father, who must be waiting for you and worrying about you?'
Bastian shook his head.
I don't think so. Maybe he's even glad to be rid of me.'
Atreyu looked at his friend in horror.
'The way you two carry on!' said Bastian bitterly. 'You almost sound as if you wanted to get rid of me too.'
'What do you mean by that?' asked Atreyu with a catch in his voice.
'Well,' said Bastian. 'You seem to have only one thing on your minds: getting me out of Fantastica as quickly as possible.'
Atreyu looked at Bastian and slowly shook his head. For a long while none of them said a word. Already Bastian was beginning to regret his angry words. He himself knew they were unjust.
Then Atreyu said softly: I thought we were friends.'
'You were right!' Bastian cried. 'We are and always will be. Forgive me. I've been talking nonsense.'
Atreyu smiled. 'You'll have to forgive us, too, for hurting your feelings. We didn't mean it.'
'Anyway,' said Bastian. 'I'm going to take your advice.'
After a while the three knights returned with several partridges, a pheasant, and a hare. When the party started out again, Bastian was riding Yikka.
In the afternoon, they came to a forest consisting entirely of tall, straight evergreens, which formed, high overhead, a green roof so dense that a ray of sunlight seldom reached the ground. That may have been why there was no underbrush.
The soft, smooth forest floor was pleasant to ride on. Falkor had resigned himself to trotting along with the company, because if he had flown above the treetops with Atreyu, he would undoubtedly have lost sight of the others.
All afternoon they rode through the dark-green twilight. Toward nightfall they spied a ruined castle on a hilltop. They climbed up to it and in the midst of all the crumbling walls and turrets, halls and passageways, they found a vaulted chamber that was in fairly good condition. There they settled down for the night. It was redheaded Hysbald's turn to cook, and he proved to be much better at it than his predecessor. The pheasant he roasted over the fire was as tasty as you please.
The next morning they resumed their journey. All day they rode through the forest, which looked the same on all sides. It was late in the day when they noticed that they must have been riding in a great circle, for ahead of them they saw the ruins of the castle they had left in the morning, but this time they were approaching it from a different direction.
'This has never happened to me before!' said Hykrion, twirling his black moustache.
I can't believe my eyes!' grumbled Hysbald, stalking through the ruins on his long, thin legs.
But so it was. The remains of yesterday's dinner left no room for doubt.
Atreyu and Falkor said nothing, but their thoughts were hard at work. How could they have made such a mistake?
At the evening meal - this time it was roast hare, prepared more or less competently by Hykrion - the three knights asked Bastian if he would care to impart some of his memories of the world he came from. Bastian excused himself by saying he had a sore throat, and since he had been very quiet all that day, the knights believed him. After suggesting a few effective remedies, they lay down to sleep. Only Atreyu and Falkor suspected what Bastian was thinking.
Early in the morning they started off again. All day they rode through the forest, trying their best to keep going in a straight line. But at nightfall they were back at the same ruined castle.
'Well, I'll be!' Hykrion blustered.
I'm going mad!' groaned Hysbald.
'Friends,' said Hydorn disgustedly, 'we might as well throw our licenses in the trash bin. Some knights errant we turned out to be!'
On their first night at the castle, Bastian, knowing that Yikka liked to be alone with her thoughts now and then, had found her a special little niche. The company of the horses, who could think of nothing to talk about but their distinguished ancestry, upset her. That night, after Bastian had taken her back to her place, she said to him: 'Master, I know why we're not getting ahead.'
'How can you know that, Yikka?'
'Because I carry you, master. And because I'm only half an ass, I feel certain things.'
'So, according to you, why is it?'
'You don't want to get ahead, master. You've stopped wishing for anything.'
Bastian looked at her in amazement.
'You are really a wise animal, Yikka.'
The mule flapped her long ears in embarrassment.
'Do you know which way we've been going?'
'No,' said Bastian. 'Do you?'
Yikka nodded.
'We've been heading for the center of Fantastica.'
'For the Ivory Tower?'
'Yes, master. And we made good headway as long as we kept going in that direction.'