Harry the Poisonous Centipede’s Big Adventure. Tony Ross
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Название: Harry the Poisonous Centipede’s Big Adventure

Автор: Tony Ross

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Природа и животные

Серия:

isbn: 9780007522309

isbn:

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      To Dnl Stphnsn

      (and his prnts)

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      Table of Contents

       Title Page

       Dedication

       6. The Big Prison-Break

       7. Flying Through Space

       8. The No-End Puddle

       9. To Eat – or Be Eaten

       10. The Rescue

       11. The hunt

       12. The Battle

       13. Sink or Swim

       14. A Short Chapter with a Surprise at the End

       15. The Long March Begins

       16. The Worst Things in the World

       17. An Old Enemy

       18. An Old Friend

       19. The Dung-Ball Track

       20. Wanted-for Squashing

       21. Who Goes There?

       Also by the Author

       Copyright

       About the Publisher

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       1. Caught

      Harry was bored.

      This is not something that happens often to a poisonous centipede. Harry was generally very busy about something or other. Chasing things like beetles, ants and worms, biting them with his poison pincers, and eating them; running away from bigger things like snakes and rats trying to eat him; exploring in the tunnels; playing with George, his best friend; or just being at home in his nest-tunnel with his mother, Belinda.

      As perhaps you know, Harry was not his real, Centipedish name. This was (are you ready for this?) Hxzltl. And George’s was Grnddjl. And Belinda’s was Bkvlbbchk. They’re hard to say. But then, so is any word, if you leave the vowel-sounds out.

      Try it with your own name. Bet you can’t say it in Centipedish so anyone would recognise it. I mean, say your name is Daniel, in Centipedish (which leaves out the a’s, e’s, i’s, o’s and u’s) it would be Dnl. If your name’s Rebecca, it would be Rbcc. If your name begins with a vowel, say Anna or Ursula or Oscar, it’s even worse – I mean, how could you say Nn or Rsl or Scr?

      But that’s the way centipedes talk to each other – well, I say “talk”, it’s more of a crackle. Too faint for human ears to hear. Often they just signal with their feelers. That’s why they’re rather strange, secretive, mysterious creatures.

      You’re really lucky to have me to tell you about them.

      Where was I? Oh yes. Harry. Being bored for once.

      He’d spent the early part of the night, since he woke up, helping his mother in their nest-tunnel. He’d straightened out his leaf-bed and rubbed his head on the earth floor to polish it.

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      Then Belinda had brought home a stag beetle for their breakfast and he had helped her get its massive jaws and its hard carapace off and had hauled them out to their rubbish tip tunnel. Then, while they ate, he asked for a story and his mother told him one about a family of marine centipedes.

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      “Once upon a time, beside the great no-end puddle, there lived a family of centipedes that could swim.”

      The stories always began like that. Harry loved them. He thought marine centipedes – his distant cousins – were brll, not to say cl and wckd. But she cut the story short at the most exciting part, because she thought she heard something interesting bumping about on the no-top-world over their heads, and scuttled off to investigate it.

      That left Harry, tummy full of stag beetle, not feeling like moving much, wanting to know the end of the story – and missing George. Who was missing.

      I mean, he’d disappeared. This was not unusual. George was a free spirit. He didn’t have a mother (though he borrowed Belinda when he was lonely or hungry). No one to keep tabs on him and stop him doing silly or dangerous things.

      So quite often, he went off and had an adventure on his own. Then he was sometimes gone for nights. Harry and George were getting to be big centis now (a centi СКАЧАТЬ