Vesper’s Underroot Dare — Under the old beeches, where roots curled like sleeping tails, Vesper scraped a little runway of dirt and named his new game Yell-and-Guess. Read the full story →
Under the old beeches, where roots curled like sleeping tails, Vesper scraped a little runway of dirt and named his new game Yell-and-Guess. He tapped three pebbles by the tunnel mouth, sniffed the mushroomy air, and whispered, “If I shout, the burrow shouts back.” His whiskers prickled. Shouting into a dark hole felt much bigger than shouting at beetles.
He took one hop forward. “BOMP!” he called, not very loudly. The tunnel answered, “Bomp-bomp-bomp,” wobbly and deep. Vesper snorted. He tried, “Pickle paws!” The answer came back, “ickle-aws-aws,” and he laughed so hard a fern shook.
Then a new voice said, “Try ‘mud muffin.’ It bounces best.” Vesper froze with one paw in the crumbly soil. From the root above, a speckled thrush blinked upside down through a knothole. She had been feeding the tunnel words all morning. Vesper puffed his chest, called “MUD MUFFIN!” and the burrow boomed it back grandly; if you follow the dirt pile with your eyes, can you hear the giggle under the roots?