Читать книгу Meerkat Madness Flying High - Ian Whybrow, Tony Ross - Страница 9

Chapter 3

And even as the meerkat breakfast-party cracked on, some miles away, a two-legged creature had decided that soon he would crack on, too.

A boy, we would call him. And let’s call him Shadow because his apricot skin blended with the colours of the shady grove of trees in the centre of which he stooped, gathering up his things.

For some weeks he had wandered alone across the vast, scorching centre of the Kalahari Desert. It was a test of how strong he was in body and in spirit. Like all the boys of his tribe, he had to go by himself and face sandstorms and hunger and thirst and treacherous paths and mirages. He had been stalked by wildcats and mobbed by packs of dancing jackals. He had leaped over lunging snakes and felt the sting of porcupine quills. So far, he had come through every test bravely and confidently. And without a map or a companion or any sort of help, he had found his way to an ancient oasis. The Really Mads called the place Green Island.

On his walkabout, Shadow had witnessed some strange and wonderful things and in his head he was already turning them into stories to tell round the fire when he returned home to his family. His favourites were about the bravery of three little meerkat kits. They were so small that they could have stood altogether in the palms of his hands. Yet by working together, they had saved a lion cub who was helpless, lost and starving. And when the cub was captured by hunters, they had set him free.

That was the story he most wanted to tell.

“Soon,” he told himself. “I must go home soon.”