Page 25 - Fables volume 1

How the Snail Risked his Life in the Interest of Science

“Right here, Boss,” came a chorus of rustic voices. The doctor
swung his neck around and saw three disreputable gastropods
snickering rudely behind his back.
“Then let’s get to work!” snapped Vondon. “Which one of you has
my mucograph? Fine. Now, you on the left: go stand at the
intersection of those two furrows. Where are my surveying tools? Ah,
thank you. If we get this done before noon and get back safely to your
village, I’ll give you all a bonus.”
His helpers seemed pleased by this prospect, and fell to following
the doctor’s instructions with as much zeal as they could muster. The
rock was becoming unpleasantly hot; every movement seared
Vondon’s delicate stomach-foot. He peered about continually while he
worked, terrified of a Squasher’s approach.
An hour later the task was completed: the Inscriptions had been
copied indelibly in slime. Vondon’s crew wasted no time: they turned
tail and began the homeward trek, leaving the doctor’s equipment
scattered about the site. He scowled at the rout and disarray. Someday,
he thought, this will be a protected monument. Guards will keep the
rabble back from the precious grooves, and littering will be dealt with
sternly. I will be famous, the snail who revealed the secrets of this
marvelous artifact. Of course, first I must decode these mysterious
symbols. Thordal was wrong: they do show intelligence, if in nothing
more than their symmetry. Perhaps the message was intended to be
viewed by astronauts coming in for a landing from either north or
south. Now to take this evidence back to the university and publish
my findings as soon as possible!
Thus musing, Doctor Vondon located his outward-bound trail and
steeled himself for the long trip home. Tucked inside his shell was a
long thin rolled-up leaf, on which was burned in slime,

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