Bhiza, Applejack quickly learned, was incredibly curious about magic and rattled off questions at a rate that would make Twilight green with envy. Which made it a shame that Applejack was incredibly incurious about magic and could barely answer any of her questions.
“But,” Bhiza asked for the third time, “how do pegasuses-”
“Pegasi,” Applejack said for the eleventh time.
“-stand on clouds? They are… clouds! Mist! Drops small very of water! Water! You do not stand on water! You do not stand on air!” Bhiza twitched her hooves back and forth in consternation and stared earnestly at Applejack.
“Magic,” said Applejack, shrugging. “I dunno.”
Bhiza flicked her ears and repeatedly cocked her head back and forth, glaring at Applejack as if that would cause the information to spontaneously appear in her head. After several lengthy moments of that, Bhiza groaned, rolled her eyes, and kicked at a rock. “Magic is confusing,” she mumbled, before going into an incoherent string of Zebran Applejack wasn’t sure she wanted to know.
“And that is why I don’t keep much track of it,” Applejack said with a laugh.
It was just after noon, and the trip through the mountains was going quite well, quite well indeed. Once on top of the wall, the path was reasonably even and, surprisingly enough, didn’t skirt too closely to cliffs all that often. The narrow path between the two peaks had quickly broadened to something that Applejack didn’t feel cramped in, and took them straight through the mountains, over bridges and through a tunnel or two. Given the isolation of the road, it was very well-maintained. At the moment, the party was taking their lunch break on a cliff overlooking a strange valley or pit that seemed to have a circular path cut into its walls. Applejack and Bhiza were slightly off on their own, while Zecora was with the rest of the zebras. Not that Applejack minded; Bhiza was good company, and even if her Equestrian wasn’t the greatest, she was still perfectly understandable.
Bhiza took a sip from a canteen. “But,” she said, “ponies all have magic?”
“Yeah.”
“And you do not think of that?”
“Not really. From what I’ve seen, magic’s often more trouble’n it’s worth. Nothin’ like good, old-fashioned fetlock grease.”
Bhiza blinked and looked at one of her front ankles. “You…” she whispered, “have… grease… come fro-”
“Heavens, no, nothin’ like that,” said Applejack, smacking herself in the face. “It’s a metaphor.”
“Metaphor?”
Great. Applejack wasn’t sure she could explain a metaphor in terms of Equestrian to Twilight, let alone a zebra who didn’t know the word. She decided to just cut to the chase. “‘Fetlock grease’ just means physical work.”
“Ooooooh.” Bhiza kept staring at her ankle, whispering, “Fetlock grease… fetlock grease…”
Applejack chuckled and looked out over the bowl valley. It still didn’t look right to her. It was too… something. She couldn’t say what, but it didn’t feel natural. “Bhiza? Y’all know anythin’ ‘bout this here valley?” She swept a hoof over said valley.
“It is not valley,” said Bhiza. “It is coal…” She clicked her teeth together a few times. “I do not remember word. Main? Meene?”
Applejack wasn’t sure wasn’t sure what, exactly, Bhiza was trying to say, but the word “coal” gave her an idea. “Mine?”
“Yes!” Bhiza said with a powerful nod. “It is coal mine. It was digged-”
“Dug.”
“-out…” Bhiza scratched her head. “Seven or eight years ago, I think. It was not mine good very, I do not think. Look.” She pointed at the ground of the valley. Of the mine. “See? All brown, no black. Dirt is brown, coal is black. All dirt, no coal.”
Applejack surveyed the mine again. Bhiza was right; there wasn’t a single shred of black to be seen in the mine. Even if the mine had run dry of coal, there should at least have been some black down there, from scraps of coal that hadn’t been picked up. But, nope, every single square inch of ground that she could see was brown. Or green; a few plants were growing down there.
“Miners left…” Bhiza batted an ear and stared at the ground. “Two years ago. They were angry very at lack of coal and thought they should not lose any more money.”
“Wow. Did they get nothin’? No coal at all?”
“I do not think so.”
Applejack whistled. “That’s a lotta lost money. Wonder what it did to the company.”
“They are still here,” Bhiza said, “but they are not doing good, I think. I heard th-”
Idube hollered, and the zebras immediately started packing up. Bhiza took one last drink from her canteen and tossed it into her saddlebags. “Come. I will explain on way.”
As it turned out, they didn’t talk much about coal mines while they walked (thank heavens). Applejack heard a few words about how the company wasn’t doing so hot but was currently getting back on its hooves, and then she pointed Bhiza at a certain peak that looked really cool. Then Bhiza pointed her at a certain rock formation that looked really amazing. Then she pointed Bhiza at a certain valley that looked really impressive. And back and forth and back and forth. The mountains were simply spectacular.
“Sure is quite a place,” Applejack said as they passed beneath an overhang, dangling with vines. “I wouldn’t mind livin’ here if I could find a place to grow my food.”
Bhiza grinned. “You must see Serembarti.”
“Serem-what-now?”
“Serembarti. Plain endless. Much grass. Lots of food.”
“Sounds like a dream.”
“It is. It-”
Suddenly, the convoy ground to a halt. A few whispers passed back and forth between zebras, then Idube began shrieking in an angry rant. Applejack waited for it to die down, but Idube only grew louder and louder and louder. After what felt like several minutes, she asked Bhiza, “What’s she sayin’?”
Bhiza angled an ear towards Idube. “She is angry very. Bridge is still not built.”
“What?” yelped Applejack. “We came all this way for a bridge to be broken?”
“No, no, there is… there is bridge not-always-”
“Temporary?”
“Yes. There is bridge temporary. But it is not as good as… as bridge always.”
“As a permanent bridge?”
“Yes. Idube does not like bridge temporary.”
Applejack kept listening, and wow, Idube didn’t seem to be slowing down in the slightest. Applejack was sure that if she knew Zebran, she’d hear some incredibly colorful language and wouldn’t hear Idube repeating herself once. “She yellin’ at anyone in particular, or just lazy workers?”
“Workers lazy. We did not do anything wrong.”
Applejack edged around the convoy, trying to get a look at the road ahead. The path dead-ended at a wide ravine, with a rope bridge — a rope bridge, of all things! — spanning the gap. She couldn’t see how deep it was, but she guessed it was deep. Over Idube’s still-ongoing raging, Applejack could hear rushing water. A river in the ravine, most likely. The zebras seemed to be lounging about, patiently waiting for Idube to finish.
“Is Idube always like this?” Applejack asked as she slid back into place.
“Only when she is angry very very,” said Bhiza. “And now…” She chuckled. “You see.”
After what felt like ages, Idube stopped raving, paused, and bellowed out what Applejack imagined was a Zebran expletive. Then she called out again in a voice that sounded almost normal, and the caravan began moving again. Slowly, but it was moving.
Applejack stuck her head out to get a better look at the ravine and the bridge. The bridge was surprisingly wide and seemed strong enough — the zebras were taking the carts across without too much worry, even if they were taking it slow — but, come on, it was a rope bridge, and as Applejack knew, that meant it was designed to snap when she was halfway across. Especially if it’d seemed safe before.
The ravine itself did indeed have a river running through it; the waters below weren’t roiling, but they were still moving at a good clip. Just to one side of the rope bridge, half-finished stanchions were sticking up out of the water: the incomplete permanent bridge. The stanchions looked strong and stable and much more desireable than a rope bridge.
Bhiza must’ve noticed Applejack’s nervousness; she asked, “Is something wrong?”
“Well, kinda,” said Applejack. She looked away and rubbed the back of her neck. “It’s just that, it’s just, I ain’t sure I want to trust my life to somethin’ like a rope bridge.”
Bhiza stared at Applejack. “Rope? Too weak. Those are not ropes grass. They are cables steel. Those-” She pointed at one of the boards between the two cables. “-are not wood. They are- They are…” She started staring into the sky. “…not wood. Material more strong than wood. I do not know word.”
“Composite?” suggested Applejack. “Plastic?”
Bhiza shrugged helplessly in the universal action for I dunno.
“Well, if you say so…” Applejack looked briefly over the edge of the cliff and immediately shied away from it. “I’m still goin’ last.”
“Heights?”
“Heights.”
“You should not be afraid of heights,” Bhiza said with a giggle. “They are tall. What is scary about being tall?”
“Lemme put it this way: it ain’t the heights I’m afraid of, it’s the ground. Comin’ at me real fast after I fall from the heights.”
“You will not fall. Bridge is strong very.”
“I’ll believe that when I see it.”
“It is carrying cart easily. Do you not see that?”
“It’s a phobia!” said Applejack. “Phobias ain’t rational!”
Bhiza flicked an ear. “I know rational. What is phobia?”
“It’s just a fancy word for a certain kind of fear.”
“Ah. Phobia. Phooooobiiiiiaaaaa.” Bhiza grinned. “I like that word.”
The zebras kept filing over, and Applejack’s heart rate slowly climbed as she drew closer to the bridge. Finally, she and Bhiza were the only ones who hadn’t crossed it. She took a quick look at the bridge. Like Bhiza had said, the “ropes” were steel cables and the “planks” were some kind of composite or fiberglass. But it was still a rope bridge.
Applejack swallowed and put a hoof on the first plank. The bridge swayed a little, but held. Applejack’s rational mind said that of course it would, it took the carts across no problem, but her irrational mind kept screaming Rope bridge! Rope bridge! And her irrational mind was louder. She took another few steps forward. The swaying got worse, but there was still no sign of collapse.
Almost by instinct, Applejack looked down between the planks. Whoops. The river was some distance below, and while it wasn’t as bad as some rapids, the water was still getting churned up a lot. She gulped. If she fell into that, sh-
“Look at I.”
Applejack looked up. Bhiza was standing a few feet in front of her, staring her in the eyes and slowly backing across the bridge. “Look at I. Look in my eyes.” She took a few steps backwards.
“A-alright.” Applejack took a few steps forwards.
“You see my eyes? What color are my eyes?” Three steps backwards.
“Brown.” Three steps forwards.
“Yes. They are more pretty than yours.” Four steps backwards.
“What? N-no, they ain’t!” Applejack may have thought that fashion was useless, but she liked the soft green of her eyes. It was definitely better than brown. It was a nice, earthy brown, but it was still brown. Four steps forwards.
“Yes, they are,” Bhiza said with a smirk. More steps backwards.
“Ain’t!” More steps forwards.
“Are!”
“Ain’t!”
“A-” Bhiza suddenly jumped forward, snatched Applejack’s hat off her head, and galloped across the bridge.
“Hey!” yelled Applejack. “Give that back!” She shot off after Bhiza, slowly closing the gap.
“Neffah!” Bhiza said around the hat. She grinned a devil-may-care grin at Applejack.
“I swear, when I get you,” bellowed Applejack, “I’ll give your hide such a tannin’ th-”
Bhiza suddenly stopped; caught off-guard, Applejack barreled into her and fell. She jumped up, ready to take her hat back from Bhiza, only to see it sitting in front of her. “Y’mind tellin’ me what that was all ‘bout?” she growled, snatching the hat up from the ground and slamming it on her head. “Y’don’t ju-”
She’d snatched the hat up from the ground.
Applejack kneaded her hooves and looked down. Below her was solid rock and dirt. She looked behind her. There was the bridge, swaying slightly and completely crossed. She looked back at Bhiza and smiled halfheartedly. “Oh.”
“We are across bridge,” Bhiza said, looking quite satisfied with herself. “Come. We are moving.” She started after the already-moving convoy, trotting a bit to catch up.
Applejack sighed, rolled her eyes, and settled into a canter. “Did you have to take my hat?”
“You did not look down. You have your hat back. What is wrong?”
“Well, it’s… Don’t take my hat, alright? Would y’all want me takin’ your nose ring?”
Bhiza tilted her head at Applejack and raised an eyebrow. “How? It is in flesh.” She wiggled the tip of a hoof into the ring and nudged it in all directions. It wouldn’t come out easily.
So if she were to actually take Bhiza’s nose ring… Applejack cringed. Yeesh. “Just don’t take my hat.”
“It is just hat.”
“Yeah. But it’s my hat.”
Bhiza shrugged and kept walking.
The sun was getting lower in the sky and their path was mostly downhill, Applejack noticed. Not a steep downhill, but downhill was downhill. The mountains were better than she’d’ve thought going in, but it’d still be nice to get onto more level ground.
They crested a ridge, and Applejack finally saw what lay beyond the mountains: an endless grassy plain. Endless endless. It just went on and on and on and on and on. Applejack’s jaw dropped.
“That,” Bhiza said, “is Serembarti. Big very, yes?”
“Yeah, it looks a mite big,” Applejack said flatly. It was all she could manage. She was just having trouble comprehending something that huge. “Is it another country or somethin’?”
“No. Just name of place. Like name of town or jungle or river.”
“Oh.” Applejack was still staring at Serembarti. (Or would it be the Serembarti? With Bhiza not using “a”, “an”, and “the”, it was hard to tell.) If she ever got it into her mind to move to Zebrabwe, she knew where to start looking for a place to live. Serembarti looked perfect.
“Easy, too,” added Bhiza. “Only dangerous if you are stupid very. And then, not dangerous very.”
It almost sounded too good to be true. Wide plains with plenty of lush-looking grass that weren’t dangerous? No way. This was Zebrabwe. Something had to be up. “Y’ain’t pullin’ my leg, are you?” Applejack asked.
“…Nnnno,” said Bhiza slowly, “I am not touching you anywhere.”
“You’re not lyin’ to me, are you?”
“Oh! No, no,” laughed Bhiza. “It is all true.”
Well. Applejack could think of worse places to spend a few days traveling through. Serembarti only grew larger and larger as they continued down the ridge. In some part of her mind, Applejack wondered how long it would take to cross; a day? Two? Three? It’d taken them two days to get through the jungle and over most of the mountains, but those had lots of obstacles. Serembarti was flat. If nothing else, they’d probably make faster time on it, but she didn’t know how far they were on their journey overall.
Beyond the ridge, the slope went all the way down to Serembarti. However, they couldn’t just run down; the path mostly vanished, covered beneath a sheet of small, loose rocks. Travel speed immediately slowed to keep the carts safe and make sure everyone was finding stable footing. More than once, Applejack put her hoof on a rock that looked fine but slid out from under her once she put her weight on it. No injuries, though.
It wasn’t long before the sun completely vanished behind the mountains. However, the convoy kept moving a while longer before Idube finally ordered them to stop on a relatively flattish area. “We do not want to go down that in the dark,” Idube said to Applejack, pointing down the ridge. “Very risky.”
“Yes indeed,” said Applejack. The slope was littered with all sorts of loose, pointy rocks, even on the path that wound down it. It’d be trivial to go down during the day, but at night? You could easily wind up with a broken neck.
The ledge they were on was just big enough to fit their whole company. Tents were passed out, one for each zebra (or pony). It was up to everyone to make their own tent, but most zebras didn’t look inclined to set them up just yet; a lot of them were resting, using their still-packed tents as pillows (Applejack had claimed her own spot, but also wasn’t ready to set up her tent yet). A few of them were unpacking food for dinner, and another was getting a fire set up. The whole scene was cozy and actually kind of friendly.
“Of course, this many zebras in one place…” Idube frowned. “We will post some guards. We don’t want the ngoloko to come.”
“Wait, what?” said Applejack with a twitch. She looked around, and all of a sudden, the slope didn’t seem nearly as friendly anymore. “What’ll come?”
“Ngoloko,” intoned Idube. It was obvious she wasn’t being all that serious, but it still made Applejack shiver. “They are vicious carnivores.” She held up a hoof just below shoulder height on Applejack. “Powerful legs, powerful jaws. Very ferocious.” She leaned in close to Applejack and grinned in a slasher-esque way. “And they only eat the brains of their victims.”
In the crowd of zebras, someone hollered out, “Which means you’re safe, Idube!” Several zebras laughed. Without budging an inch or even turning to look, Idube flicked a stone into the air with her rear hoof and bucked it towards the offending zebra. Applejack didn’t see who it hit, but someone yelped and the laughter grew again.
“But do not worry,” Idube continued, drawing away from Applejack. “They may be dangerous, but we are more dangerous. We will set up guards during the night. Ngoloko prefer to ambush their prey, and flee given the slightest amount of resistance. We will face no trouble from them tonight.”
“Great,” said Applejack in her best “that ain’t great at all ‘cause you just said there’s a monster out there that wants to eat my brains” voice.
Idube’s smile vanished. “Seriously, though. Do not worry. You are at a greater risk of dying in a rockslide than getting killed b- than getting injured by a ngoloko.”
“We’re on a mountainside! That ain’t sayin’ much!” protested Applejack. “Rockslides probably happen here all the dang time!”
“Not here,” said Idube. She rolled her eyes. “We. Are. Safe. I know what I am talking about. I have been working this job for over a decade.”
Applejack huffed and walked over to Zecora; her tent was already set up, so she was sitting at the top of the slope, simply admiring the lands below. They were admirable, to say the least, but Applejack wasn’t in a state of mind particularly conducive to admiring things. “Zebrabwe sure is dangerous, ain’t it?” she asked Zecora.
“At times, yes, it can seem that way,” said Zecora. “You’ve seen the worst these past two days.”
“I sure hope so,” Applejack muttered. “I just wanna keep movin’ and not stop for monster attacks or a rope bridge.”
Zecora laughed and clapped Applejack on the back. “The Serembarti is a place where you will never be more safe. It’s not a land for carnivores, so please, don’t worry anymore.”
“I’ll stop worryin’ when I can travel in a straight line for an hour with nothin’ bad happenin’ or holdin’ us up like a beaver dam in a river.” Applejack squinted at Zecora. “Y’know, you found your plants quick enough. Did you ever live out in the jungle?”
“Just on the edges, not in far.” said Zecora. “Grasslands aren’t where the herbs are. The jungle, ah…” She smiled wistfully. “It has much, much more plants than you could ever look for. Dangerous? Yes. But a small price to have a brewer’s paradise.”
“You used to those sorts of things, then? The nyokakubwa and all that?”
“Not in the capacity we saw yesterday. You see, I never went very deep; the edges still had herbs to reap. There were risks, I will admit, but dire troubles?” Zecora shook her head. “Not a whit. It’s why in Everfree I stay, for it recalls my younger days. Although Everfree’s Equestrian, so there’s less risk to life and limb.”
“Wait, you’re livin’ in the depths of the Everfree ‘cause it’s safer than the edges of the jungle?” Applejack looked over her shoulder, back at the way they came, and gulped. She was probably lucky to get out yesterday with all four limbs.
Zecora shrugged. “That idea is close enough. Zebrabwe’s jungles make you tough.”
“Wow.” Pushing that somewhat discomforting thought from her mind, Applejack turned her gaze back to Serembarti. No, wait, the Serembarti; Zecora had used a “the”. “Well, I just hope nothin’ bad goes down tomorrow.”
Back from the center of the camp, a bell rang out. “Chakula cha jioni!” Idube hollered. “Dinner!”
Zecora stood up. “Perhaps some food will clear your mind and help you leave your fears behind.”
Applejack stared out over the dark plains. She was hopeful, but couldn’t entirely hide her apprehension. “Maybe.”
Whether or not it did, though, it’d been a long day, and she was hungry. She followed Zecora to the campfire.