The Magnificent Mammoth Ballet

The woolly mammoths were performing their spring ballet to the music being cranked out by the cosmic organ grinder. Their movements were careful, controlled and extraordinarily graceful. Yet, despite the delicacy of their steps, the vibrations they produced were causing thousands of earthworms to wriggle to the surface, fleeing the enormous mole they feared was digging their way.

Once the worms had taken in the sight of the mammoths pirouetting and glissading before them, they were even more terrified than they'd been when imagining the size of the mole they'd thought was about to eat them up. But the older, more experienced worms (who'd arrived late as usual to outwit the early birds) soon reassured their nervous young colleagues.

'Fear not!' they told them. 'It's the Magnificent Mammoth Ballet! We're lucky to be here today. Just keep your eyes out for those blackbirds over there.'

So the worms stayed to watch, swaying to the music and smiling with wonder at such an elegant spectacle. They needn’t have worried about the blackbirds. Because although they might at first have appeared to be loitering menacingly, they were actually gazing at the mammoths too, just as tightly spellbound as their erstwhile prey.

And this was the remarkable thing about the Magnificent Mammoth Ballet. It was the only instance in nature when all the creatures of the world would stop what they were doing, put instinct on hold for a few moments, and sit back to enjoy a great piece of performance dance. Was it art? Was it mere entertainment? Who cared? It was the greatest show on earth!

However, there was one animal who never showed much interest in the ballet, and that animal was man. Because while the rest of the world was captivated by the mammoths' performance, man would spend his days contemplating his reflection in lakes and ponds, trying to decide if he really was as good-looking as he suspected. He certainly was, he decided every time, but the satisfaction gained from this conclusion never stayed with him for long and he always had to go back for another look, just to make sure.

Then one day, quite suddenly and without a word to anyone, the woolly mammoths disappeared. Nobody knew where they’d gone, but each animal had its own theory. The worms said that the mammoths had grown tired of living on the increasingly cold, inhospitable outer shell of the world and used their trunks (which, as the worms pointed out, were ideal tools for digging) to burrow to the Earth's core, where it was warm and they'd finally be able to take off those shabby fur coats they’d been wearing so long.

The blackbirds thought this was nonsense and that it was much more likely that the mammoths had at last mastered the art of flight (a feat for which, the birds maintained, the troupe had been training with every grand jeté they’d ever performed) and migrated to the sun where it was warm and they'd finally be able to take off those shabby fur coats they’d been wearing so long.

Whatever the truth was, one thing almost all the animals agreed on was that they felt very sad they’d never get to see the mammoths dance again. As before, man was the only exception. He said he didn’t care one way or the other. In fact, he claimed, the only significant thing he’d noticed about the mammoths when they were around was their ‘objectionable pong’ – and that, he made clear to anyone who asked, was something he could definitely live without.

Yet, despite his harsh words, man did begin to feel sad after the mammoths left, and he grew sadder and sadder as the years went by, though he couldn’t understand why. He certainly never connected the onset of his sorrow with the disappearance from the world of the woolly mammoth.

The animals had their theory however, and this time all were in agreement, worm and bird alike. Man was sad, they whispered to each other – the saddest among all the beasts – because he hadn't seen the Magnificent Mammoth Ballet when he’d had the chance. And now he never would.

Illustrations by Jordi Llobet
jordillobet.blogspot.com
Story by Benjamin Palmer

A Spanish translation of the story, also by Jordi, can be seen on his own magnificent blogspot.

Se puede leer una traducción en español del cuento, también hecha por Jordi, en su magnifico blogspot.