The Council of Animals by Nick McDonell

Author:Nick McDonell [McDonell, Nick]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781250799036
Google: QTi-zQEACAAJ
Amazon: 1250799031
Publisher: Henry Holt and Co.
Published: 2021-07-19T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

“Cat,” said the dog, “how will we find the woman who speaks grak?”

They had been walking through the tunnel for a long time. Periodically, one of the dangerous moles would stop and place his diggers on the tunnel wall, testing for the particular texture, temperature, and vibration that indicated their location.

“We’ll find her,” said the cat.

“That’s not a plan!” said the dog.

“The dog asks a reasonable question, cat,” said the bear. “What is your plan?”

“The squirrel told me she lives by herself, in a hut near the camp, and that she likes to sing. We’ll be able to find her.”

The dog and bear reflected on this.

“What if she has a gun?” asked the dog after a moment.

“The squirrels tell me there are no guns in the village.”

“Then how have the humans been hunting?” asked the bear.

“They’ve been foraging,” explained the cat. “And, being city people, they’re struggling to survive. They can’t find berries and don’t know which ones are safe to eat. They’ve barely been able to make fire. They haven’t caught a single rabbit with their traps. They’ve been eating bugs but not the tastiest bugs. They’re arguing among themselves. The squirrels think they won’t survive the winter.”

The moles, leading the way, stopped. The animals had come to a fork in the tunnel. The moles put their diggers to one path, and then to the other, and then to the first again. They huddled in mole conference, then repeated their examination of the two options.

“Jesus H. Franklin Roosevelt!” said the dog. “The moles are lost.”

The bear put his snout to the floor of the tunnel. He sniffed. The cat and dog and moles around him, a yellow whiff of snakeskin, the brown of dirt. And something else, something metallic, rusty.

The bear’s nose bumped against … a train track.

In the darkness, she could just make it out.

“Here,” said the bear. “I found something!”

The dog and cat and moles gathered round.

“Yes, this is the way,” said the cat, relieved.

“What is this place?” asked the dog.

“The moles tell me it was a gold mine.”

And the moles were right. Not too much farther up the tunnel, the animals came across some old mining equipment. A digger, a jackhammer, great coils of rope. The bear found the place rather spooky and wanted to keep moving, out of the darkness.

They walked, and walked, and walked, until: a glow. Some light seeping down ahead. The animals turned a bend in the tunnel and suddenly had to squint. Ahead, light dappled the tunnel floor. A shaft above, high and narrow. All around them, the detritus of humans. The mine appeared to have been abandoned in haste. Gloves and hard hats were scattered. And, in the center of the shaft, a skeleton.

It was a human skeleton, not a snatch of meat left. Legs at a terrible angle. The sturdy denim work clothes it had once worn were almost entirely disintegrated, just a few scraps and buttons.

“Looks like he fell down the shaft,” said the bear, as the animals gathered round.

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