Page 38 - Fables volume 1

How Ten Thousand Termites Escaped from Captivity

“Now wait a minute, Amadou. These mounds are made of dirt,
made out of mud, just like the buildings in the village, right? Well, how
come they aren’t dissolving? The rain is hitting them just as hard, but
these things are solid. Too solid, in fact. Now, tell me why that should
be so.”
Amadou’s smile momentarily relaxed. He disliked admitting
ignorance of any subject, particularly one related to his homeland.
“I have no training as an entomologist, Mr. Henry. My scholarship
did not allow me the luxury of taking any courses outside my field.”
Homer’s eyes suddenly gleamed wildly. “Amadou! Go get the Land
Crusher and back it right up to this spot. I think we’re on to
something very valuable.”
“What? Do you feel all right, Chief? I think there is one bottle of
beer left, if you want it.”
“No, no, no! Just bring the vehicle! Hurry, before it gets too dark to
see what we’re doing!”
Amadou trotted off, wondering where else in Forolonkolo he could
get as well-paying a job as he held with Crude Devices, Inc. When he
returned, Homer Henry yanked open the rear door and pulled out a
shovel.
“Get that tarpaulin out, and some rope,” he shouted, and began
digging an inward-slanting trench around the termite mound. The
earth was soft, and soon the structure was isolated from the rest of the
field by a deep shaft.
Under Homer’s direction, Amadou grudgingly wrapped the mound
in canvas and tied it securely. Then he attached the rope to the winch
mounted on the rear bumper of the Land Crusher. When Homer gave
the signal, he started the engine and began hoisting the load. Homer
hacked away at the subterranean root of the mound and the whole
thing finally broke off and lifted up. After tying the bottom of the
package, they swung it into the rear of the vehicle and secured it.
“Ah, Chief, I’m sure you know what you’re doing,” began Amadou
politely, as they slowly drove back to the highway. “But some people
in Jombougou might not understand why we are bringing back a
termite mound—with termites still inside it, I should add.”
“Those would be individuals lacking in imagination,” said Homer
pompously. “We who work in the field of international development

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