A River of Animals

Polly woke to a strange sound. It was like thunder, but it never stopped. It was the wildebeest. They grunt to each other as they walk. From her tree, Polly watched the lines of animals pass. They reached from one end of the world to the other. This is the great migration. It never ends.

Polly flew into the dust above the herd. Then she landed on the back of a big wildebeest and rode it like a boat. Nobody minded. Small birds ride wildebeest all day here. The dust slowly turned her blue-teal wings and her round glasses gold.

The herds eat in a fixed order. Zebras eat first. They have strong teeth and chew the tall, hard grass. Wildebeest eat the middle of the plant. Gazelles come last and eat the soft new shoots. One plain, three meals, no fighting.

In the afternoon, dark clouds grew in the north. Wildebeest can smell rain from very far away. Rain means new grass. The whole herd turned toward the storm. Polly hopped off and found a tree for the night.