by Chen Jiatong
“Toby, what’s wrong?” the hunter asked his dog, heading for the wooden door to the house.
Toby barked up at his owner.
“Did you see something, boy?” the hunter said, setting down his bag. “Let’s see …”
No! Dilah thought, panicking.
The man fished out a key from his pocket and unlocked the wooden door. He went straight inside and slammed it shut.
I have to do something!
Dilah leapt out of the grass and shouted at the top of his lungs: “Ankel, run!”
As soon as Toby spotted Dilah, he stopped barking. A second later, he howled. A few seconds passed; no response from the house. The dog growled at Dilah and howled a second time.
“Ankel!” Dilah called again, creeping closer. “Get out!”
Toby howled a third time, and the wooden door flung open. Holding on to the handle with one hand, the hunter stuck out his head and yelled, “Shut up, Toby! My head’s exploding!”
Obeying his master’s orders, Toby fell silent. The door slammed shut. Panting, Toby glared at Dilah. Dilah paced back and forth at the edge of the yard, wondering if the hunter had found Ankel—had killed him. If Ankel didn’t return home, how would he explain it to Azalea?
A yellow speck on the chimney caught Dilah’s attention. It grew larger and larger, twisting this way and that. He squinted, then realized it was Ankel’s head poking out and scanning the area. The weasel wriggled out of the chimney, with a rope of pink sausages coiled around his neck. The weight on Dilah’s chest lifted, and he smiled in relief.
Ankel carefully crawled down the sloping roof so that the sausages wouldn’t slip off his neck. When he reached the lowest point, he nimbly leapt onto a water butt, slid down its side, and landed on the ground.
“Bravo!” Dilah said. “Now—let’s get out of here!”
“Agreed,” Ankel replied.
Dilah followed Ankel back toward the fields, Toby barking and howling as they disappeared into the tall grass. After a few moments, they heard the hunter roar, “Toby! What’s wrong with you? If you don’t shut up, I’m going to throw you out!”
Dilah and Ankel scampered through the grassy fields until they left the village safely behind. At last, they found a quiet hillside near the lake and sprawled out in the sun, laughing in relief.
“We got lucky today!” Ankel lifted up the delicious-smelling sausages with his tiny paw.
“Lucky? That was a really close call! How’d you get out?” Dilah asked. “Did you hear my warning signal?”
“Of course not. Toby’s barking was a hundred times louder than yours,” Ankel said. “When I heard Toby still barking after I’d gone inside, I knew we were in trouble. I realized it’d draw attention.”
“So how’d you get out from under the hunter’s nose?” Dilah asked, settling his chin on his paws.
“As soon as I got inside, I made a beeline for the kitchen and started rummaging for food. When the hunter opened the door, I hid behind a basket. He took a quick look, then went to nap on the sofa. I rummaged a bit more before I found the sausages. At that point, it wasn’t practical to go out the window, so I crawled into the chimney and climbed out. Even though things didn’t go quite as planned, we still pulled it off.”
“You pulled it off. You really have a knack for stealing!” Dilah said.
“Yup.” Ankel sat up straight on the grass and met Dilah’s eyes. “By the way,” he said solemnly, “please don’t tell my mom about today. She’ll only worry.”
“Of course I won’t.”
The little weasel relaxed, his sparkling eyes drifting toward the pile of sausages. “I bet you’ve never had anything like this before. Let’s eat!”
Dilah and Ankel divided up the stolen sausages and devoured them. It was the best thing Dilah had ever tasted. Human food was so delicious! When I’m human, Dilah thought, feeling the weight of the moonstone around his neck, I’ll eat sausages all the time.
Stuffed, Dilah and Ankel sunbathed on the hill. A gentle breeze blew, the treetops swayed, and the soft sunlight flowed over the grass like melting ice cream. Dilah felt as if he might drift off to sleep.
“Dilah, tell me a story,” Ankel said. “I’ve been going on and on about myself these past couple of days, but you’re still a mystery to me.”
“I …” Dilah was tongue-tied. Where should he start? The past few weeks rushed through his mind. Suddenly, he didn’t feel so sleepy.
“Tell me about your family. Why are you here by yourself?”
“My parents are gone,” Dilah said matter-of-factly.
“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Ankel blurted. “What I mean is … what happened?”
“A hunter killed them.”
“Oh!” Ankel sounded shocked. He placed a small paw in front of his mouth and nibbled nervously on his claw. “No wonder you’re so afraid of hunters. But why did you come here? Does it have something to do with that thing around your neck?”
“How did you know?”
“The first time I saw you, I knew you were no ordinary fox. Apparently, there’s a wasteland on the other side of the mountain. Even an animal as strong as a snow leopard wouldn’t dare set foot over the pass. But you came from the north, somewhere even farther away, and a million times colder. You must have gone through so much, more than I could ever imagine,” Ankel said. “Now, as to your little parcel, I couldn’t help noticing that you’ve never taken it off, no matter what. It seems more valuable to you than your own life. What is this object that you’ll risk your life to protect? It must be something very special. Something powerful enough to send you miles and miles from your home. Or maybe you’d rather not say …”
Dilah removed the parcel from his neck and set it down on the grass. He carefully opened it. The stone sat on the grass, a blaze flickering merrily at its heart, casting blue flecks of light all around it. Time stopped. Ankel couldn’t stop staring at the moonstone. His eyes were as wide as saucers.
“Wow, it’s incredible! It’s so beautiful …” Ankel blinked. “What is it?”
“It’s called a moonstone. My mama left it for me.”
“It doesn’t look like an ordinary gem. That blue fire … How’d your mom end up with it?”
Dilah paused for a moment, unsure how to answer. “Ankel, what do you think of humans?” he asked eventually.
“I don’t have any particular opinion of them. The people in the village don’t take much notice of us—and we don’t take much notice of them. Well, except to steal food, sometimes.” He winked at Dilah. “But mostly we get along as neighbors.”
“Do you envy them?”
“Of course! The promise of human food is enough to make me risk breaking into the hunter’s home—imagine if you could eat it all the time! And don’t even get me started on their lives. They rule the world, do whatever they please,” Ankel said, his voice filled with longing. “They have comfortable, warm homes. They don’t have to worry about being eaten—instead, wild animals keep away from them. But what I envy most of all is their endless books and knowledge.”
“If you could become human, would you do it?”
“How? Animals are animals. Humans are humans.”
“But what if you could? I said if. ” Dilah was eager to hear Ankel’s answer.
“Then yes! I’d want to be a scholar and make my mom proud of me.” Ankel smiled. “But Dilah, what does this have to do with the moonstone?”
“In the Arctic, the patron saint of the white foxes is named Ulla. Legend has it that a long time ago, he created a secret treasure that can turn animals into humans.”
“No way! That’s not possible—it’s just a myth.” Ankel shook his head.
“My mother told me this secret just before she died, and she gave me the moonstone to lead me to it. So I believe it.” Dilah met Ankel’s eyes until the weasel lowered his gaze.
“Can it really be true?”
Dilah gently nodded, gazing at the ducks playing on the lake. The breeze ruffled
his fur. He felt a kinship with Ankel that he couldn’t explain.
“But how has the legend brought you here, Dilah?” Ankel asked.
Dilah took a deep breath. “It all started when my parents were killed,” he began. And bit by bit, he told Ankel the story of how he had come to be in the forest—he told him of the blue foxes, of Egg the seal, of how they cracked the code of the moonstone, of his journey south and all that had befallen the human family in the other woods, far away, and, at last, of his journey over the treacherous mountain pass, and the friendly eagle who had guided his way. It had been a long and lonely journey, he realized, and the thought of setting out again alone made his heart heavy. “And you know the rest,” Dilah finished. “So that’s how I ended up here.”
Ankel was quiet for a moment. He clearly didn’t know what to make of it all.
“Ankel …” Dilah had trouble getting the words out, as though there were a fish bone stuck in his throat. “Do you … do you want to help me look for the treasure?”
“Me?” Dumbfounded, Ankel pointed to himself and frowned. “I … I don’t know, Dilah. Can I think about it?”
Dilah was glad Ankel hadn’t said no outright. “Of course. Along the way, we’ll face terrible danger. We might get lost or get ill, get caught by humans, freeze to death, starve to death, or even be eaten by wild animals …” With each phrase, Ankel’s tiny eyes widened in alarm. “But at least we’d be together. And then, at the end, I think we could really do it. I think we could really become human.”
“Become … human.” Ankel appeared to test out the words, his voice slow and wondering. Then he hesitated. “But, Dilah, are humans really as perfect as we imagine?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, is it really worth all the trouble?” Ankel asked.
Dilah had felt this doubt niggling him before, especially after the murder of Leo’s parents, but he’d tried to squash it down. Surely the quest his mother had sent him on couldn’t be a fool’s errand? He looked at Ankel and asked, “What do you mean?”
“Well … although humans rule the natural world, they don’t seem to value one another’s lives, do they? After what happened to Mideo and Lily … and all for a few tree trunks …” Ankel shook his head. “Are you sure you want to be like those men?”
Dilah thought about this carefully, but eventually he nodded. “Yes. They don’t represent all humans. Remember how kind Mideo and Lily were to me? There are good humans and bad humans, just like there are good foxes and bad foxes.” Dilah paused to compose his thoughts further. “Besides, if I do end up succeeding, I wouldn’t be a bad human. In fact, being a human means I’d have more power to stop the bad people, like the ones who killed Mideo and Lily.” He would never forget how it had felt to sit in the shadows and watch the couple die. If I’d been human, maybe I could have helped.
“That makes sense …” Ankel was rubbing his little paws together anxiously, as though he was struggling to make up his mind. “It’ll be dangerous—that’s a given,” he mumbled to himself. “Mom won’t like it, but I think we can make it …” He raised his head and clapped his paws. “I’m in.”
“Really?” Dilah yelped.
Little Ankel trembled with excitement. He nodded. “Yes, really!”
A wonderful realization filled Dilah with warmth until it felt like his heart was glowing—he wouldn’t be alone anymore! He’d have a friend! “Will you be ready to leave tomorrow?” he asked Ankel. “See, I’ve been here for a while already. According to the moonstone, the treasure is somewhere south, but I don’t know how far. The sooner we set out, the better.”
“OK,” Ankel agreed. “I can’t wait! But”—his voice grew suddenly serious—“there’s one thing I have to do before we go, and it isn’t going to be easy.”
Dilah nodded, feeling his heart clench on his friend’s behalf. “Tell your mom.”
It was morning. The sun spilled rays of warm, bright light into the forest, and birds chirped all around. Dilah waited outside Ankel’s family den. After a while, Azalea emerged from the hollow trunk. Her eyes were red and swollen, her face worn. Ankel emerged next—but Dilah almost didn’t recognize him: He looked totally grown-up and very neat and tidy. He’d combed the yellow fur on his head so smoothly that not a single hair stood out of place, and his little head gleamed in the sun. Not a word was spoken as they set off into the forest.
Accompanied by Azalea, the two friends headed south through the familiar trees. As they reached the edge of the forest, Azalea gripped Ankel’s paw.
“Remember not to sleep on wet leaves, or you’ll catch a cold,” Azalea warned.
Ankel nodded.
“Promise me you’ll eat three meals a day, OK?”
Ankel nodded again.
“You know that if you smell blood, you need to hide, right? Don’t travel when it rains—find a cave and take cover.”
Ankel nodded mechanically.
“Also, you must avoid humans, especially hunters. Do you remember?”
Ankel and Dilah exchanged a knowing glance before Ankel said, “Yes, Mom.”
“Oh, and bathe yourself once a week, or you’ll get fleas.”
Ankel was becoming impatient.
“Also—” Azalea started to say.
“Mom, Dilah’s already been waiting a long time.”
“Just one last thing. My dear, you must take good care of yourself. I’m going to miss you terribly.” Azalea’s nose was twitching as if she was trying to stop herself from crying. She and Ankel hugged tightly. “I’m so proud of you, Ankel,” Dilah heard her whisper in her son’s ear. When they finally drew apart, she turned to Dilah.
“Please look after him, Dilah.” Tears swirled in her eyes, but she didn’t let them fall.
“Don’t worry, we’ll look after each other.”
Once their goodbyes were done, Dilah and Ankel turned to the south. A meadow yawned into the distance—beyond it, rolling hills of all sizes bumped across the horizon. As they set off, Dilah didn’t look back, afraid to see Azalea’s heartbroken face, but Ankel turned and waved several times until they were too far away to see the little weasel among the trees.
“Are you ready for our adventure to begin?” asked Dilah.
“I’m ready!” Ankel excitedly replied, his eyes twinkling.
“Then let’s go!” Dilah took off running, and Ankel sprinted alongside him. A blur of white and yellow streaked across the green meadow, like three colors splashed across a canvas. How long and far they would have to run was anyone’s guess.
When night fell, Dilah laid the moonstone on a soft patch of grass and opened the parcel. Ankel watched with great interest. The golden crescent in the middle of the moonstone spun, whirling around and around until it stopped at last, pointing the way forward.
“Wow, it’s amazing!” Ankel couldn’t believe his eyes. He studied the glowing crescent moon, its golden light beaming onto his face. “It’s like a compass,” he said.
“Compass?”
“A tool invented by humans. The needle always points north. If you have one, you’ll never get lost,” Ankel explained.
“Humans are so smart! I’ve never seen a compass. Maybe it’s the same thing as the moonstone.”
“No, this is definitely different.” Ankel’s eyes sparkled in the light of the moonstone.
“It’s taken me a lot of work to figure out how to use it!”
“Wait—is this the poem you told me about earlier?” Ankel had noticed the script written on the leather.
He picked it up. In the faint moonlight, he carefully studied the verse, mumbling to himself, poring over each and every word. “ ‘When you’re lost, let the sky lead the way,’ ” he murmured at last.
“How can you understand that?” Dilah stared at Ankel in shock, his jaw hanging open. He remembered Grandpa Turtle saying that most of the animals who could read the characters were extinct.
“You mean Classical Animalese?” He chuckled. “My grandpa taught it
to me when I was small. He has a knack for languages.”
“Wow! Did he teach you other stuff about animal history?”
Ankel’s ears perked up at Dilah’s interest. “Of course! He told me that animal civilizations developed millions of years ago, earlier than human civilizations. Animals have their own cultures and lifestyles—we all know that. But in the past, our ancestors used pictures and symbols to record their civilizations, just like humans did.”
“Where did they record these things?” Dilah asked.
“On the walls of caves, or on rocks on the seabed—though when humans discovered these strange symbols, they assumed it was the work of other humans … or even aliens!”
“But what happened? Why don’t we use writing anymore?”
“According to Grandpa, humans plundered natural resources and enslaved and killed animals to further their interests, which quickly advanced human civilizations … but destroyed animal civilizations. Gradually, the written language stopped being used—and the spoken language evolved into what we speak now: Modern Animalese.”
Dilah was lost in thought. If he became human, even if he was a good human, would he hurt and kill animals? If human civilization was founded on enslaving and killing animals, how could he avoid it? He shivered.
“Ankel,” he said at last, “if we really become human, we must do something to help the animals.”
The next morning, golden rays of sun streamed between the clouds onto the emerald grass. The leaves glistened with dew. Mist drifted over the hills. Dilah and Ankel continued on their way. The scent of wildflowers wafted on the breeze, and all colors of petals bloomed in the meadows as far as the eye could see, trailing all the way up to the hills. Spring was well and truly here. Bees hummed among the flowers, and butterflies sunned their wings, flitting into the air as Ankel and Dilah passed.
By afternoon, the clouds had passed and the sky was clear and bright. They’d come upon a vast and magnificent prairie, the rolling hills dotted with herders’ huts—although there wasn’t a human in sight. Every so often, cattle cried out. White sheep grazed in the glossy green grass. A small stream glittering with sunlight flowed through the prairie, cows standing beside it to take a drink.