The Crossing

At midday the herd arrived at the Grumeti River. Everything stopped. Thousands of wildebeest stood on the bank and looked at the brown water. They were afraid, and they were right. Crocodiles live in this river. Some are longer than a small boat. They wait all year for this one week.

Then one animal jumped. That was enough. Hundreds of bodies poured into the river at the same time. There was spray and noise everywhere. Polly flew just above their backs, through the cool mist. Her round glasses got wet from the river.

Not every animal reached the other side. The river kept a few. Polly watched from a tree and did not look away. The crocodiles are not bad. They are part of how this plain works, and how it has always worked.

By evening it was over. The wet animals climbed the bank, shook themselves like dogs, and started eating grass again. The river became calm. Polly stayed on her branch until the stars came out.