Читать книгу The Hidden Kingdom - Tracey Hecht - Страница 4

THE NOCTURNALS

Usually, he could smell all kinds of things—the dew-covered petals of daffodils, the tangy rinds of oranges, the musky bark of big oaks. But recently, he could smell only dry earth and brown grass, scorched to death by the heat.

Except…wait a moment. Tobin’s snout suddenly perked up. “Could it be?” Somehow, he had picked up a trace of moisture—the scent, he believed, of damp rock. Tobin’s pace quickened into an eager trot. His mind danced with visions of flowing water, lush moss, and juicy termites.

He traveled just a short distance, but he was breathless when he reached his destination—a narrow opening in a wall of rock. The pangolin grinned—he had been right. There was water here. It wasn’t exactly flowing from the crack. Actually, it was barely trickling. But it was water nonetheless.

Tobin closed his eyes and uncurled his long tongue—so long, in fact, that he kept it coiled inside his stomach when he wasn’t using it. But now, he stretched it to its full, remarkable length, eager to catch the next drop.

“Hey! Pangolino!” Before even a single, cool drip could land on Tobin’s parched tongue, he heard a loud, shrill voice calling to him from above.

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