MOTHER DUCK STRIKES AGAIN Craig Shaw Gardner Once upon a time, a young lad named Wuntvor travelled far from his native land, seeing the sights and having many adventures. So it was that he came over a hill and saw a bright and verdant valley spread before him. Brilliant sunlight shone down on green trees and golden crops, and Wuntvor thought that he had never seen a place as beautiful as this in all his travels.
He left the hilltop and began his descent into the valley. But he had not gone a dozen paces before he saw a hand-painted sign hanging from one of the beautiful, green trees. And on that sign, in large red letters, someone had painted a single word:
DANGER.
Wuntvor paused for a moment, and stared at the sign. Was someone trying to warn him? But danger of what? And where could any danger be on such a fine day as this?
So Wuntvor continued upon his way, whistling merrily as he studied the wild flowers that bordered the path on either side. He came to a broad field of wild grass and clover, and saw that on the far side of that field wound a lazy blue river.
Wuntvor looked along the trail he followed, and noted that in the distance it led to a narrow bridge that crossed the wide expanse of water.
Well then, he thought to himself,
that is the way that I must go. But he had not walked a dozen paces before he found that a giant boulder blocked his way. And on that boulder was painted a single word, in red letters three feet high:
BEWARE.
Wuntvor paused for a long moment to regard the message on the boulder. This was the second warning he had received since he had entered the valley. But what were these messages trying to tell him? What, or whom, should he beware of?
At length, Wuntvor decided that it was much too fine a day to beware of anything.
Let the fates do what they must, he thought. On a sunny afternoon like this, he could best whatever was thrown in his path!
. . .
