While I puttered around my burrow, most of us were engaged in large scale construction amid the higher realms of The Oak. The first day and following morning had largely been a teeming, unfocused outflow of energy and exploration and grandiose planning, but then attention had focused on the specific goals of generating access, a project capably directed by At, Equal, and Strikeout. But once they had completed the system of “stair rungs” and rope hoists everyone’s enthusiasm quickly shifted back to a riot of building and self-expression. Even from the ground below I could see a colony spreading among the branches.

Of course I couldn’t really witness first-hand the very vital early history that I am trying to relate to you, one more failing of my age and bodily limitations, for which I apologize. Fortunately, however, I was granted the benefit of another pair of eyes.

I had actually been slightly aware of Carat even before the Passage. She was talked about among academicians with interest in the physical arts and I believe I actually saw an exhibit of her once at the… I’m going to use the word “Athenaeum” here, but it’s far from precise. I’ve since learned that she was popular in sophisticated galleries of the kind young administrative and technical professionals frequented in the Main Axis neighborhood. I vaguely recall small, rather maudlin pastels of sweet, ingenuous Youngers. And being told that she was an accountant whose hobby painting was gaining acceptance in several of the schools of art in our sprawling capital city.

So I was somewhat less stunned than I would have been if I’d had no preparation for her walking up as I lazed on my log in the late sun, sitting beside me with a deferential smile, and wordlessly handing me a stack of drawings. I took them curiously, examining a sheaf of sepia rectangles cut from dried leaves except for two that were thicker and bright white. I was amazed to see drawings on them: made, it turned out, with carbon dust from the tips of charred sticks. They were a visual chronicle of the emerging habitations up in the branches, done in a lovely, charming gesture. I looked through them with a rising excitement, seeing in detail how my folk were creating a new world above my head. So I can tell you a bit about that first phase of our Settlement on good authority thanks to Carat’s artistry.

I saw once again our selection of The Oak (or perhaps it was the other way around?) had been very fortunate. Most of the large lower limbs were wide and flattened on top, making room to build and move about. I have two of those drawings framed in my study even today: I can see them from where I struggle to write this account. The rest were given away over the years and place in museums and collections. They are certainly the most valuable works of any artist among us, their historical importance eclipsing their artistic properties.

Of the drawings Carat showed me, two were on the white medium I mentioned, a strong but flexible substance that was like wood, but also like very thick, strong paper. It had a nice white luster and readily accepted her sketches in charcoal, now mixed with water for some blending, I noticed. I asked about it and her explanation quickly cleared up something I’d noticed from her drawings: so many of the little cottages and nests were circular. Cylindrical, I should say. It turned out that At had made a wonderful discovery.

He’d been patrolling the woods with Equal and Dollar, an unauthorized search of the type Greater Than still disapproved of, but was losing the ability to enforce as his flock spread out beyond his immediate supervision. They were drawn to a stand of slim (for this world) white trees with brilliant foliage by their beauty, but quickly found them useful. On the ground around them, and sloughing off their trunks, were slabs of this remarkable layered bark. Extremely excited, they performed several rewarding experiments with the stuff immediately. It was pliable but strong, soft enough to work but hard enough be useful, and thin sheets like the ones Carat had given me could be peeled off. They made several useful craft items right on the spot, including our first unit of crude pipe, the “paper” sheet Carat drew on, and a sort of litter that allowed them to carry piles of the bark back to the Oak for further exploitation.

Many others in the group were quite taken by the white birchbark and a large group set out to take a look at the grove the next morning. By the end of the day At and Equal were working in the high branches with a crew of kits: Dash, Question, and their equally bumptious ally in mischief, Bracket, a shaggy brown starting to show signs of blonde markings and an aptitude for craft. What they had invented was remarkably simple and useful.

The were making two circular grooves around the limbs, scoring through the outer layers of bark. They then connected the two cuts with two lateral grooves, thus isolating a cylinder of bark that could be separated from the tree in two halves. The semi-circular halves were light enough to carry to the Oak and hoist up and place wherever somebody wanted shelter. A single half, laid with open side down, make an instant domed shelter. Two of them, reconnected by drilling and lacing with pine needles, made a tubular structure that some laid horizontally, but most stood on end. It was easy to make door and window holes, then thatch the top opening with leaves to create little huts for storage and even living quarters.

As the demand for these bark tubes increased, the workers got better at making them larger and learning to cut certain design features into them as they removed them from the trees. One of Carat’s drawings on bark shows a sprawling hive of round white huts, most of them topped with conical roofs made from lashing the stems of oak leaves together and spreading the bottoms out. The perspective is from halfway out one of the branches and the effect of a road leading up to some rural shire, clinging to limb and shambling up the trunk, is strong. When your people see pictures from that period I always hear references to elf or fairy villages. And I have to admit there is something very charming and bucolic about the Settlement, at least as Carat depicted it.

Other drawings, which are nicely complemented by the tan leaves they’re drawn on, show an assemblage of leaf tents huddled up to the trunk, lean-to’s of bark, even woven hovels that resemble upside-down bird nests. There were even a few sleeping platforms suspended from limbs. The drawings are inhabited rather fancifully, showing various individuals not working on construction, but going about daily tasks and chatting as they sweep, cook, chat through open doors or dance in the “street” in front of audiences looking out from high windows. I couldn’t help contrast the happy, ingratiating feeling of these sketched inhabitants with those in her gallery paintings, which showed rather wistful aspects amid urban surroundings.