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    Animal Stories
    Animal Stories
    Animal Stories
    Ebook123 pages1 hour

    Animal Stories

    By Hugh C Beaton

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    About this ebook

    Animal Stories is a collection of tales inspired by an animal for each letter of the alphabet.

    After his retirement he went on a four-month around-the-world cruise on a German container ship and it was during this extensive, and sometimes boring, time that he wrote the 26 Animal Stories that this book contains. Aloha!

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherHugh C Beaton
    Release dateJan 25, 2017
    ISBN9781773025285
    Animal Stories

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      Book preview

      Animal Stories - Hugh C Beaton

      9781773025285.jpg

      Table of Contents

      A is for Ant

      B is for Buffalo (Bison)

      C is for Crows

      D is for Deer

      E is for Elephants

      F is for Foxes

      G is for Geese

      H is for Horses

      I is for Impala

      J is for Jackal

      K is for Koala

      L is for Lemming

      M is for Magpies

      N is for Numbat

      O is for Ostrich

      P is for Porcupine

      Q is for Quoll

      R is for Rabbit

      S is for Squirrel

      T is for Tasmanian Devil

      U is for Unicorn

      V is for Vulture

      W is for Wombat

      X is for Xenicidae

      Y is for Yak

      Z is for Zebra

      A is for Ant

      In the deepest of jungles in the Congo, Africa, there was an enormous colony of leaf-cutting ants. No one in these parts had ever seen or heard of a larger colony. With every passing day, it just kept getting bigger and bigger.

      The natives of the area would tell stories about running into streams of ants returning to their underground nests, each carrying a small bit of green leaf from the forest trees. There were huge streams of ants, several feet wide in many cases, heading out to cut and return with their bits of leaf that would be used to feed the millions of ants, from the newly born to mature adults.

      Brothers Wilson, Arnold and Richard were part of the crew for that never-ending chore. They had grown up and worked every day of their lives in this area; each morning they headed out along the worn paths from their nest, climbing over stones and rocks, fallen branches, ground cover and the detritus that covered the forest floor. They would follow those ahead of them, climbing up the trunk of the chosen tree, out along the branch and lesser smaller branches, until they were in amongst the green leaves being harvested.

      Wilson was the first to stop and swivel his head around to choose an appropriate leaf. He was the unofficial leader of not only his brothers but also of this group of working ants. It was generally assumed that when he chose a leafy branch, the rest of the ants in the area would automatically assist in the area, instead of deciding on their own to go elsewhere. Wilson was what others like to call a take-charge kind of ant. He was a friendly guy, who knew through experience where and what to cut for the good of the whole colony. So when he stopped to look around, the others automatically moved to select a leaf or a part of a leaf and got on with the job.

      The job itself was to start cutting into the leaf with their jaws, slicing from the edge towards the centre. Then holding the cut edges together with their rear legs, they would cut in a particular pattern to end up with a more or less half-moon shaped piece they could carry home. These pieces were not too large, but not too small either. The ability to cut just the right size was a learned behaviour, for many an ant had been justly chastised for carrying too small a portion. Some ants, overestimating their ability and strength, cut and carried too large a portion and frequently would be blown off the branch by a gust of wind, or they had difficulty on the descent and fell to the ground because of the weight of the leaf.

      Wilson rested a bit when he saw that most of the ants with him were already beginning to cut the leaves. Arnold and Richard weren’t all that gung-ho, so it was normal for them to wait until Wilson started any activity before they would decide to join in.

      You know, guys, said Wilson, when I was younger, I never thought I’d ever get tired of cutting leafs.

      You mean leaves, don’t you? said Arnold.

      Leafs, leaves, said Wilson, what difference does it make when you’re doing this day in and day out, week in and week out, month in and month out, year in and year out, decade in and….

      Okay. Stop it already! said Richard. And what’s got into you so early in the morning? I haven’t heard you mention anything like this before, and we haven’t even started working today.

      I’m not sure, guys, said Wilson. It’s just that it’s almost my second birthday, and this is all I’ve ever done. I wake up every morning, eat a little moldy leaf, cut and carry all day, eat some more moldy leaf, sleep next to you then start the whole process again the next day. I have begun to realize that there’s got to be something more to life than this. I just know that given the opportunity I could be something more than I am.

      Maybe we could appoint you king or mayor or something, said Arnold. I know that bees have queens.

      Well, termites have queens who do all the breeding and get enormously fat, said Richard, but Wilson couldn’t lay eggs or anything. Being king or emperor wouldn’t be a bad thing. I mean we would be brothers of a king and probably wouldn’t have to work another day in our lives.

      That’s not what I was thinking at all, replied Wilson. I’m talking about getting out of this scene altogether.

      Where should we go? said Arnold. It’s not like we’ve been anywhere and want to go back because it’s better than here. We don’t know that there is anything better than what we already have.

      True, said Wilson, but don’t you want to find out? Wouldn’t it be nice to bug out of here, go somewhere we can lay back, look at the clouds drifting by, the birds circling overhead, smell the fragrant flowers and feel the soft cushion of grass under our backs?

      But what about food and companionship? asked Arnold.

      What have we got now? replied Wilson. We can find leaves anywhere, and all we need is each other because that’s all we’ve had up to now. Why do we have to stay with a zillion others doing the same thing every day, forever?

      I’m game, said Richard. It’ll be different, for sure, and Wilson has convinced me. I want to experience more in my life than what I’ve had up to now.

      Then let’s go, brothers, said Arnold. Lead the way, Wilson. We’re behind you always, one hundred percent.

      They marched down the tree trunk, went at right angles to the paths leading to the colony and were several metres away when a passing warthog stepped on them crushing their fragile bodies into the rotting soil of the forest floor.

      Oooooohhh!

      B is for Buffalo (Bison)

      Did you feel that, Herb?

      No, I didn’t feel anything, but I heard something, something like the cry of a small bird. Did you hear it too?

      Look, Herb, said Francis, I felt a vibration in the ground. I didn’t say I heard anything, so why do you have to change the subject every time I say something?

      I don’t do that, do I, Francis? I mean, it’s not like I’m not listening to you or anything. It’s more like we’re not on the same wavelength all of the time. But we’re still brothers under the skin – or should I say under the hide, if you catch my drift. Isn’t that what Ma thought about us when she was alive?

      There you go again; I’m talking about what I feel through my hooves, and you bring up Ma and her thoughts when she was alive. Chauncey was telling me yesterday that you’re probably a few cards short of a full deck, and now I’m sure that he’s not wrong.

      Aw, come on Francis. We’re all brothers, and I don’t like it when you or Chauncey call me names or think that I’m less bright than others in the herd.

      Indeed the three were brothers. They were buffalo or bison, young and healthy and part of a small herd of buffalo in Southern Alberta, Canada. The area was technically not part of the foothills of the Rocky Mountains, but in the area of smaller hills to the east of the foothills, near Claresholm, north of Fort MacLeod and south of

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