Zip had found the greatest thing in the whole jungle.
A pogo stick. Red and springy, leaning against a fern. She grabbed it with her little clawed hands, and — BOING — she was off. Up and up and up, feathers ruffling in the rush of air, the jungle path thumping below her with every bounce. Boing, boing, boing!
On her biggest bounce yet, Zip sailed so high she could see all the way across the valley. The treetops. The river. The enormous fruit pile everyone had been saving for the Big Sharing Feast. And then — oh no. She watched it happen in terrible slow motion. The whole pile rolled, and tumbled, and scattered down Mudslide Hill in every direction.
Nobody else had seen it. Only Zip, up in the air, feathers standing straight up.
She landed with a THUMP and looked at the pogo stick. The pogo stick looked back. There was only one thing to do. Zip tucked her elbows in, gripped the handles tight, and boingboingboingboingboinged down the jungle path at full speed. The ferns blurred green. The mud splattered. She was on a fruit-retrieval mission.
The first thing she found was Dob.
Dob was an Ankylosaurus, big and grey and grumbling, with a melon stuck completely on the end of his tail spike. He'd been trying to shake it off all morning. The melon wobbled. Dob glared at it. "Don't just look at me," he said, to nobody.
Zip bounced once, very high, and on the way back down — FLICK — she knocked the melon clean off with one small claw. It sailed through the air and landed in her leaf sling with a satisfying THWUMP. Dob blinked. "Hm," he said. "Thank you." He turned and stomped after her.
The next fruit was harder to spot. That's because Lotte the Brachiosaurus was sleeping on it.
Her enormous long neck was draped across three mangoes, her chin resting on the biggest one. She had thought they were decorative rocks. "They're very smooth," she said, when Zip explained, sounding genuinely surprised. Lotte lifted her head slowly, and the mangoes rolled into the sling. Boing, boing, boing — onward.
Then they heard a sound like someone sitting very seriously on something.
It was Fen and Mox. The Triceratops twins were perched side by side on a pile of starfruit, completely still, eyes closed. They were trying to hatch it. "We've been here since breakfast," said Fen. "Nothing's happening," said Mox. Zip explained about the feast. The twins looked at the starfruit. They looked at each other. "Oh," said Fen. "That makes more sense," said Mox. They stood up, and twelve starfruits tumbled into the sling.
Now the sling was heavy and bulging and smelled of ripe mango and squashed starfruit juice. Zip gripped the handles. She bounced once. The whole sling lifted. She bounced again. It swung forward. Slowly, bouncily, the fruit began making its way back up Mudslide Hill.
Dob pushed from behind. Lotte steadied the sling with her long neck. Fen and Mox marched at the front, horns high, looking very official.
When they crested the hill, the valley below went absolutely wild. Stomping. Bellowing. Happy feet shaking the ground like distant thunder. The fruit pile was restored, piled even higher than before, glowing orange and yellow in the late afternoon light.
Everyone ate until the jungle went quiet and golden.
And Zip sat at the foot of the fruit pile, back against the warm bark, pogo stick leaning against the tree beside her. Her eyes were heavy. Her feet felt like stones. She did not bounce even once more.
