Korridorium

♫ Nir­bas Hunt Lash­larms (Exc) ♫

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I enter the cor­ri­dor. Some­how, I sus­pect the islanders want to be rid of me, and I am on my guard. I imag­ine they dis­like my large ears, my sturdy legs—my oth­er­ness. Unadorned, roughly plas­tered stone walls rise on both sides; since there is no roof, the sun streams in. I scan my sur­round­ings war­ily. Is a pit­fall await­ing me? Will spears, trig­gered by my steps, shoot from the walls to pierce me? There is a pun­gent odor here. Appar­ently, the islanders usu­ally drive goats through this pas­sage.

Care­fully, I place one foot in front of the other. Sud­denly, a shadow eclipses the sun. Look­ing up, I see a gigan­tic bird plum­met­ing toward me. In the nar­row cor­ri­dor, I can­not turn quickly enough. And where would I go, any­way? I become easy prey for its out­stretched claws, each of them as large as a full-grown leop­ard. They seize me, and with a few pow­er­ful wing­beats, the majes­tic bird soars back into the air.

Appar­ently, it wants me alive. Below me, the islanders have gath­ered in the square before the Tem­ple of the For­mi­da­ble Naked Mole-Rat; they wave their arms and dance as spir­ited drum music rises up. I trum­pet in protest.

The giant bird heads toward a moun­tain­side. I spot an immense nest where four enor­mous, gap­ing beaks reach upward. The hun­gry squawk­ing of the chicks makes my blood run cold.

Der Vogel Roch: