The Legend of Thunderfoot Read Free Page B

tortoise.”
    â€œHow can you live inside that rock? Isn’t it heavy? Why doesn’t it squash you? And how did you get in there, anyway?”
    The legs drew in and the rock settled back to the ground. “I do not live inside a rock. This is my shell. It grows with me, protects me from danger and from the sun. It goes everyplace I go. It’s probably not much heavier than all them feathers you’re lugging around. It’s part of me.”
    â€œBut how can you—”
    â€œLook, kid,” Berland cut him off. “Enough with the questions! It’s getting hot out here. Move your rump so I can get home. Then I’ll visit all you want. Just let me inside.”
    â€œI don’t know if I can.”
    â€œTry”.
    â€œBut my feet hurt and I feel weak.”
    â€œFine. I’ll just tunnel under.”
    With that, Berland started digging. His front feet had claws. His legs were strong and flattened—just right for burrowing. Sand and gravel flew in great swoops on either side of the rock . . . er . . . shell.
    The thought of those claws or strong feet whacking his sore toes forced the roadrunner to struggle to his feet. All four toes, on both feet, throbbed. They hurt something fierce. Still weak, his normally strong legs wobbled beneath him. Somehow he managed to stand and take a step. Then another.
    Suddenly Berland stopped burrowing. His eyes popped wide. “Oh! My! Gosh!” In the blink of an eye, his head and feet disappeared inside his shell.
    The roadrunner frowned down at the tortoise. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
    â€œAh . . . er . . . nothing.” The muffled sound of Berland’s stammering came from inside his shell. “It’s just . . . well . . . never mind.”
    â€œGo on,” the roadrunner urged. “I don’t know how much longer I can stand here.”
    Berland waddled behind him. The last thing he saw was the hind legs and a tiny tail disappear into a hole in the ground. If he could just get his feet to move—just take another step or two—he could turn and look at the hole while they talked.
    Suddenly a familiar cooing sound caught his ear. He glanced toward the noise. It was Mama and Daddy. “There he is, Lithe! We found him.”
    Fast as the wind, both rushed toward him. “Where have you been?” Mama scolded with an angry tone. “Young man—you are in so much trouble.”
    â€œYesterday was to be your Naming,” Daddy clattered as he raced along beside her. “You’ve been gone all night. You were supposed to . . .”
    Both birds slid to a stop, looking down at their son. Four eyes flashed wide. Their head crests sprang up so straight they almost touched the other’s long beak.
    â€œOh! My! Gosh!”

Chapter 4
    Mama and Daddy agreed that the swelling would go down in a day or two. Even Berland—although he was hard to understand, since his voice came from so deep in the ground—agreed. “Don’t sweat it, kid,” the muffled voice seemed to echo. “You’ll be back to normal in no time.”
    When the young roadrunner had first glanced down to see why everyone was screeching “Oh! My! Gosh!” he felt like throwing up. But since his stomach was empty, all he could do was gag and gasp. He sank to the ground and covered the ghastly-looking things with his feathers. Hiding them, not only from his mother and father, but from his own eyes as well.
    His once strong, handsome feet looked horrible. They were more than three times bigger than theywere supposed to be. They were as round and bulbous as he imagined the limbs of the giant saguaro cactus his father had told him about.
    â€œPerhaps we could help,” Mama suggested.
    â€œYesterday was The Naming,” Daddy said. “The girl was there. Her name shall forever be Sprite of the Foote Clan. The boy was