"Roan's First Days"

Part 6

 

Roan sucked in a breath and backpedaled as fast as he could go to escape the reach of the snake's strike. His eyes never left the rattle, for he could not see the viper's head. At last, the large chipmunk squeezed out the opening to the burrow and found himself drenched in autumn daylight once again.

 

He thanked the stars the weather was cool. It made the rattlesnake stiff and sluggish and too cold to strike.

 

Roan kept to the north side of the little stream and followed it out of the woods to an open field. The grasses were tall and yellowed, waving gently as the breeze rivered through them. Roan sniffed the air. The scent of acorns and damp leaves mingled with the smell of sun-warmed grasses and the metallic scent of the stream.

 

An old rabbit trail skirted the stream, and he followed it a ways before it veered off and vanished into the high grasses. Roan departed from the path and plunged his way through the vegetation until he reached a large, dry ditch. He forged ahead and followed the slope downward, then climbed the bank on the other side, stopping abruptly when he reached the top. Before him spread a vast river made entirely of small gray stones. It stretched for as far as he could see in either direction, but the grasses waving at him from the opposite bank were not twenty paces away.

 

A strange odor arose from the stone river, and it stung Roan's nostrils. He touched the pebbles with his hindpaw. They were warm. Far beyond the opposite bank of the stone river, Roan could see the tops of trees clustered in a little grove. It appeared that the stream he had followed led right to it.

 

The chipmunk had come to a crossroads and had a decision to make. He turned to look over his shoulder toward the tree with the snake's burrow, and beyond that to the persimmon grove. Finally, his gaze returned to the unmoving gray mass of the stone river.

 

Should he go left, right, or forward?

 

Or should he go back?