Читать книгу The Hidden Kingdom - Tracey Hecht - Страница 19

THE NOCTURNALS

When it came to messy or hard work, Bismark preferred the role of maestro—“overseeing” the work rather than doing it. But it really didn’t matter. Since he was the size of a small chipmunk, he didn’t have the strength to be of much help anyway.

“Dig! Dig! Dig!” Tobin urged himself on as he tunneled into the den at full speed.

“Pangolino! Dawn, mon amour! Do you hear me?” Bismark shouted. “You should really consider the brilliant strategies I am laying out for you. Under my leadership, we can accomplish this task so much more—blegh!” A clump of flying dirt smacked Bismark in the face, landing right in his wide-open yapper. “Thwip-thwap-thwup,” he sputtered, spitting it out.

“Good work, Tobin,” said Dawn as the pangolin finished plowing through most of the soil. “We’re almost there!” the fox called into the den.

“Okay!” A faint call rose from the chamber beneath the ground. Tobin’s heart leaped in his chest. He knew that voice sounded familiar!

“It’s Cora!” he gasped. Tobin looked at Dawn in alarm. It was the Brigade’s beloved wombat friend. The pangolin’s pulse quickened. Dawn’s amber eyes widened. Then they started to dig again—harder and faster than ever.

26