A Mammoth Mystery (Geronimo Stilton Cavemice #15)

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A Mammoth Mystery (Geronimo Stilton Cavemice #15) Page 1

by Geronimo Stilton




  Dear mouse friends,

  welcome to the

  Welcome to the Stone Age . . .

  and the world of the cavemice!

  Capital: Old Mouse City

  Population: We’re

  not sure. (Math doesn’t exist yet!) But besides

  cavemice, there are plenty of dinosaurs, way too many saber-toothed

  tigers, and ferocious cave bears — but no mouse has

  ever had the courage to count them!

  Typical Food: Petrified

  cheese soup

  National Holiday: Great Zap Day,

  which celebrates the discovery of fire. Rodents

  exchange grilled cheese sandwiches on this holiday.

  National Drink: Mammoth

  milkshakes

  Climate: Unpredictable,

  with

  frequent meteor showers

  milkshake

  cheese

  soup

  money

  Seashells of all shapes

  and sizes

  measurement

  The basic unit of measurement is based on

  the length of the tail of the leader of

  the village. A unit can be divided into a

  half tail or quarter tail. The leader is

  always ready to present his tail when there

  is a dispute.

  Geronimo

  Trap

  Thea

  Benjamin

  Bugsy Wugsy

  Hercule Poirat

  Grandma Ratrock

  Copyright © 2014 by Edizioni Piemme S.p.A., Palazzo Mondadori, Via Mondadori 1, 20090 Segrate, Italy. International Rights © Atlantyca S.p.A. English translation © 2017 by Atlantyca S.p.A.

  The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any

  responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  GERONIMO STILTON names, characters, and related indicia are copyright, trademark, and exclusive license of Atlantyca S.p.A. All rights reserved. The moral right of the author has been asserted. Based on an original idea by Elisabetta Dami. www.geronimostilton.com

  Published by Scholastic Inc., Publishers since 1920, 557 Broadway, New York, NY 10012. SCHOLASTIC and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc.

  Stilton is the name of a famous English cheese. It is a registered trademark of the Stilton Cheese Makers’ Association. For more information, go to www.stiltoncheese.com.

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher. For information regarding permission, please contact: Atlantyca S.p.A., Via Leopardi 8, 20123 Milan, Italy; e-mail [email protected], www.atlantyca.com.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  e-ISBN 978-1-338-15918-9

  Text by Geronimo Stilton

  Original title Ahi ahi Stiltonùt, è finito il latte di mammut!

  Cover by Flavio Ferron

  Illustrations by Giuseppe Facciotto (pencils), Livio Carolina (ink), and

  Daniele Verzini (color)

  Graphics by Marta Lorini

  Special thanks to Shannon Decker

  Translated by Julia Heim

  Interior design by Becky James

  First printing 2017

  MANY AGES AGO, ON PREHISTORIC MOUSE ISLAND, THERE

  WAS A VILLAGE CALLED OLD MOUSE CITY. IT WAS INHABITED

  BY BRAVE RODENT SAPIENS KNOWN AS THE CAVEMICE.

  DANGERS SURROUNDED THE MICE AT EVERY TURN:

  EARTHQUAKES, METEOR SHOWERS, FEROCIOUS DINOSAURS,

  AND FIERCE GANGS OF SABER-TOOTHED TIGERS. BUT THE

  BRAVE CAVEMICE FACED IT ALL WITH A SENSE OF HUMOR,

  AND WERE ALWAYS READY TO LEND A HAND TO OTHERS.

  HOW DO I KNOW THIS? I DISCOVERED AN

  ANCIENT BOOK WRITTEN BY MY ANCESTOR, GERONIMO

  STILTONOOT! HE CARVED HIS STORIES INTO STONE TABLETS

  AND ILLUSTRATED THEM WITH HIS ETCHINGS.

  I AM PROUD TO SHARE THESE STONE AGE STORIES WITH

  YOU. THE EXCITING ADVENTURES OF THE CAVEMICE WILL

  MAKE YOUR FUR STAND ON END, AND THE JOKES WILL

  TICKLE YOUR WHISKERS! HAPPY READING!

  Geronimo Stilton

  Warning! Don’t imitate the cavemice.

  We’re not in the Stone Age anymore!

  RUMBLE, RUMBLE,

  RUMBLE . . .

  It was a fabumouse morning in late

  summer. The sun had just come up, a light

  breeze blew from the sea, and the baby

  pterodactyls chirped happily. Ahh — it was a

  perfect morning to do some very important

  work!

  My name is Stiltonoot, Geronimo

  Stiltonoot. I always have very important work to do because I run The Stone Gazette,

  the most FAMOUSE newspaper in all of prehistory! (So what if it’s the only

  one?)

  Anyway, that morning I woke up early

  and climbed behind the wheel of an

  2

  autosaurus.* I was ready to get my paws in

  gear!

  My sister, Thea, and my associate Wiley

  Upsnoot were waiting for me impatiently at

  the entrance to The Stone Gazette’s office.

  “Boss, you asked us to be ready, and we

  are!” Upsnoot squeaked. “But, um . . . what

  are we ready for?”

  “Inquiring mice need to know!” Thea

  * Autosauruses are dinosaurs that transport objects and passengers.

  Make sense?

  continued. “Why in the name of cheese did you, the laziest rodent in

  all of prehistory, wake up so early? And what are you doing on that autosaurus?”

  I held up my paws to calm them

  down. “I called you

  for three very

  simple reasons.

  One: the summer

  heat is already behind us. Two:

  there’s still time

  before the rainy

  season. Three:

  The Stone

  Gazette

  is more popular than ever! Make sense?”

  “Uh, Boss?” Upsnoot said, tugging on his

  tail. “I didn’t understand a single coconut

  of what you just said . . .”

  “Holey boulders, I left out the most

  important thing!” I squeaked. “I asked you

  to meet me at this unmousely hour because we have no more slabs on which to etch The

  Stone Gazette.”

  “What?” Thea cried. “But how will I

  write my articles?”

  Upsnoot launched into a Paleozoic panic.

  “And how will I publish my famouse, informative, thirty-slab supplements like ‘How to Pick Your Autosaurus’?”

  “Well, that’s why I called you,” I said. “I

  need your help getting some extra stone

  slabs from the cavern. This is the pawfect

  time to do it!”

  5

  Without a second to waste, we r
ode the autosaurus up the plateau above Old Mouse City. When we reached the cavern, we got to work. Extracting slabs from the rock is a mousetastically exhausting job!

  Even so, we worked all morning . . . until

  Upsnoot accidentally dropped a slab right on my paw.

  “

  OWWWWW!

  What

  megalithic pain!” I hollered so loudly that

  it started a landslide from the top of the

  plateau!

  Oh no!

  Gulp!

  Ow, ow, ow!

  RUMBLE

  RUMBLE

  RUMBLE...

  the rocks were rolling right toward us. We were going to be minced

  mice!

  Unbelievably, the avalanche stopped

  just two millitails from us.

  Phew

  . . . we were saved by a

  whisker!

  STORM COMING!

  When the big cloud of DUST caused by

  the landslide finally vanished, we found a truly mouserific surprise right in front of our snouts: The rolling boulder had cracked other stones, carving out perfectly flat

  slabs for our prehistoric newspaper!

  Triple triceratops horns, it

  was our

  LUCKY

  day!

  I scurried over

  to take a look at

  the slabs, but

  slipped on a rock

  and

  BANGED

  snout-first into

  the slab that Thea and Upsnoot were lifting.

  Bonk!

  The slab split

  in two, and a

  bump as big

  as a coconut

  popped up

  on my head.

  Fossilized feta,

  what a day!

  “Are you okay, little brother?” Thea

  asked.

  “Maybe you should let us take it from

  here, Boss,” Upsnoot suggested.

  My head was still spinning, so I nodded

  and stepped off to the side. I grabbed the

  Jurassic first aid kit and bandaged

  my paw, while Thea and Upsnoot finished

  9

  loading the slabs. Then Thea lifted me onto

  the autosaurus, climbed on herself, grabbed

  the reins, and headed for Old Mouse City.

  After riding for a while, Upsnoot suddenly

  squeaked, “The sky is getting darker . . . a

  storm’s coming!”

  Fur and fossils — had the rainy season

  come early?

  Storm’s coming,

  boss!

  “Stay calm,” Thea said. “We’ll be back in

  Old Mouse City before a single drop of

  rain falls!”

  But just then . . .

  Boom!

  A megalithically loud clap of thunder

  made us jump out of our fur.

  “I don’t like the sound of that!” Upsnoot

  cried.

  “Look over there!” Thea squeaked,

  pointing.

  As I followed her paw, I could see a herd

  of mammoths racing across the clearing

  around Old Mouse City. They galloped

  wildly, making the ground tremble as

  their fur swung in the wind.

  11

  Look over there!

  Fossilized fossils, the mammoths seemed

  super-scared — they were

  shaken

  up, frazzled,

  and totally

  terrified!

  Mammoths are peaceful animals. They

  would never hurt anyone. The worst thing they might do is get a bit stinky

  sometimes . . . but they’re scared out of their fur of lightning!

  Thea said firmly, “We need to get back to

  the city before the storm reaches us!”

  But at that moment, a gust of wind

  made the autosaurus swerve. He ended up

  smashing into the trunk of a Paleozoic

  palm tree.

  BANG!!!

  14

  You won’t believe it, dear rodent friends,

  but we had hit the only tree within

  hundreds of tails!

  What megalithic bad luck!

  Oh no!

  !!!

  CRASH . . .

  BAM . . . SPLAT!

  Thea didn’t get discouraged. She put her snout down and continued steering the autosaurus through the storm.

  My sister must be the most determined

  rodent in all of prehistory!

  “Come on, big guy!”

  Thea urged him. “We’re

  almost there!”

  Unfortunately, even

  though the autosaurus’s

  head was as hard as

  granite, he was still stunned from

  slamming into the

  16

  tree. Holey boulders, he was super-stumbly!

  When we’d almost reached the bottom of

  the hill, the poor autosaurus accidentally

  stepped into a hole. He tipped to one side —

  whoaaaaa!

  Help!

  Huh?

  All the stone slabs fell to the ground,

  breaking into a thousand tiny pieces.

  CRASH!

  But that wasn’t all . . .

  Upsnoot and I were catapulted

  forward! We both fell onto the path with

  our paws in the air.

  BA M!

  wooooorld!

  Good-bye, cavemouse

  But since the path headed downhill, we

  didn’t stop there. No, we began to roll in

  a big heap of snouts and paws, forming a

  megalithic landslide.

  “Good-bye, cavemouse wooooorld!” I

  squeaked.

  “I’m too young to become extinct!”

  Upsnoot cried.

  We tumbled farther and farther until we

  were more mixed up than mammoth

  milkshakes! Finally, we smacked right into

  the wall surrounding Old Mouse City.

  SPLAT!

  Ow, ow, ow!

  My paws felt like mush, my back was

  bruised, and my tail was tangled. Basically, I

  was minced mouse!

  “Ugh, I’m not feeling so great, Boss,”

  19

  Upsnoot mumbled, massaging his snout.

  I nodded, and my head spun. “I was doing a lot better before, too.”

  Thea and the autosaurus appeared above

  us. My sister shook her head. “Oh, for all

  the cheese in Old Mouse City! Are you two

  okay?”

  “I think so.” We nodded.

  “Good,” Thea replied. “We should get

  going. We need to get back to the city in

  two shakes of a mouse’s tail.”

  We finally made it back to Old Mouse City

  soaked, bruised, and without a single stone slab for the newspaper. What a megalithic

  disaster!

  If all of that was bad, the fleeing of the

  mammoths was even worse.

  “What will we do without our mammoth

  milk?” Thea asked, tugging on her whiskers.

  20

  Did you know that mammoth milk is the

  most essential ingredient in mammoth

  milkshakes, the favorite drink of the

  cavemice? We had mammoth milkshakes in

  reserve in case of EMERGENCY . . . but

  they wouldn’t last long!

  Great rocky boulders, we had to do

  something — and FAST!

  MAMMOTH MILKSHAKES ARE

  PREPARED WITH CURDLED

  MAMMOTH MILK, LEMON JUICE,

  A PINCH OF SALT, AND WATER.

  21

  NO MAMMOTHS,

  NO M
AMMOTH

  MILKSHAKES!

  Gasp!

  I hadn’t even set paw in my cave when

  the storm finally hit. There was

  LIGHTNING, THUNDER,

  and

  hail as big as Paleozoic walnuts! In

  no time, the city was submerged

  in water and mud.

  Old Mouse City ground to

  a halt — no one could go to

  the market, take a run along

  the river, or bring the baby

  autosauruses out for a

  walk. It was a megalithic

  mess!

  The storm lasted all night. When it finally

  stopped the next morning, it seemed like an

  entire STONE AGE had passed!

  I was about to scamper over to the

  newsroom, when a shriekodactyl (a shrieking

  pterodactyl, of course) began yelling

  news across the city.

  “Listen up, citizens of Old Mouse

  City!” he announced. “By

  order of the village leader,

  Ernest Heftymouse, you

  are asked to attend a

  special assembly at the

  Mammoth Milkshake

  Pantry — right now!”

  Triple triceratops’ horns!

  If Ernest Heftymouse was

  calling an assembly, the mammoth situation

  must be even worse than I’d thought.

  Listen up!

  23

  I left my house as FAST as my paws

  would take me!

  The Mammoth Milkshake Pantry was a big

  cave under the plateau that overlooks Old

  Mouse City. Inside, enormouse

  stone containers hold the mammoth

  milkshake reserves. The drink is so tasty

  and hydrating that it’s one of the cavemice’s

  prized possessions!

  The pantry was packed with a crowd of

  wildly worried rodents.

  Ernest Heftymouse stepped to the front of

  the room. “Dear citizens, I’m afraid I have

  some megalithically bad news.”

  So many cavemice!

  Our eyes opened wide and we

  all held our breaths.

  It was quiet enough to hear a

 

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