Mole Rat Keeps His Feet Dry

A Kenyan Folk Tale

ON THE VAST plains near Mount Kenya, it rained day after day for so many days that the animals became worried.

“My fur will never dry out,” said Lion, shaking his soggy mane.

“I don’t like waterfalls dripping down my neck,” said Giraffe. “It’s most uncomfortable.”

The ground trembled as Elephant approached. “A little water is fine with me,” he remarked, flapping his large ears. “But I can hear the river roaring. I fear that the floods will come, and we’ll all drown.”

“We must go to the High Place, where our feet will be dry,” said Lion.

They headed west to find dry ground high on Mount Kenya. They hadn’t gone far when they came upon a tiny mound of dirt. In the center, a pair of pink, hairless legs steadily kicked a fine spray of soil from a hole.

“Oh, Mole Rat,” called Lion. “Come with us to the High Place, where it’s dry.”

Mole Rat clicked his four buckteeth together. “Can’t stop to talk,” he replied. “My family and I are working on our tunnels.”

“This is no time for housekeeping,” said Giraffe. “The water’s rising.”