Page 44 - Fables volume 1

How the Troglodyte was Tracked Down

He turned away from the map, having long since memorized the
latitude and longitude of his destination. On his desk was a folder
containing every piece of information he could get on the troglodyte.
He thumbed through the clippings and letters for the hundredth time.
They were mostly secondhand accounts by former British foreign
service officers of tales told by the natives of Serabella. From time to
time the popular press published these reports on their back pages as
filler, usually with the comment of some expert on their probable
worthlessness. The professor did not agree. He picked up his phone
and waited until his secretary answered.
“Miss Paris, please arrange my travel to Serabella as soon as
possible. And see to it that all the equipment I requisitioned is with
me on all those airplanes and ships. That is all. Thank you.” He hung
up quickly without waiting for a reply.
Three weeks later the professor stood at the edge of a jungle,
listening to the last distant sounds of the departing jeep. His eyes were
fixed on the side of the mountain facing him. It was dotted with caves
carved centuries before by Buddhist monks. After a few minutes his
gaze shifted to the boxes, bags and bottles piled around him.
Ignorant superstitious fools, he thought. They wouldn’t go a meter
closer to Mount Krenia. Just left me here with all my gear and said
they would be back in two weeks. Wouldn’t even look at the caves.
Professor Planarius sprayed his few exposed square inches of skin
with mosquito repellant and unpacked his gear. After concealing most
of it beneath banana leaves, he set up a blind from which he could
watch the caves unobserved. When night fell, he slipped an infrared
attachment over the lenses of his high-power binoculars and searched
the mountainside for signs of nocturnal activity. At midnight he
retired.
As he lay listening to crickets and night birds, his thoughts returned
to the day’s events. Actually, it’s a good thing, he mused, that the
Serabellans won’t go near this place. Otherwise the troglodyte would
long ago have been captured or driven away. Either way, I’d still be
stuck behind that desk in Fresno.
The professor smiled and fell peacefully asleep.
Twelve days later Planarius was not smiling. For eighteen hours a
day he had crouched motionless beneath the trees, his eyes pinned to

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