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Little Kamuff

By Rudolf Ammann, 19 May 2003

An Illustrated Story for Children

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“What’s the matter, love?” asked Little Kamuff’s mum.

Little Kamuff didn’t say anything. What was the point in telling mum if there was nothing new to tell.

Dad gave her a little pat on the back. “Cheer up, little Kamuff,” he said. “It might never happen.”

Why can’t dad say something different for once, thought Little Kamuff, something helpful. Because it is happening. It’s happening all the time. Ignoring them — as mum and dad say I should — doesn’t help either. They never give up, they just don’t.

Little Kamuff looked at the sky and then he looked at the ground. His long nose reached out sniffing around. The smell was still there. A strange sweet smell.

‘Doesn’t anyone else notice it?’ thought Little Kamuff, ’ that tell-tale smell that they have been here, maybe are still here, close by, watching and waiting’

A shudder ran through Little Kamuff and he ran quickly after his dad.

(did the little kamuff just change from a she to a he? well, i took the liberty to turn the little kamuff back into a she)

It was good to have dad with her, he was an expert at ignoring them, surely he could ignore them for the little Kamuff, too. Trotting quickly on its short legs, the little Kamuff did her best to keep up with her dad.

“Where are we going?” It asked, panting all along.

“You’ll see.” Her dad said with a secretive smile. “I’m sure you’ll like the surprise.”

The little Kamuff got very curious. What was her dad going to show her? -Maybe a patch of especially juicy mushrooms? -Or a place full of new smells? The little Kamuff loved smells, she never stopped snuffling and sniffing around just to catch a whiff of a smell.

After all, her nose was made just for that: To smell things. Happily, the little Kamuff followed her dad, dreaming of all sorts of interesting smells.

they were walking along a thick brambley hedge, when suddenly a hole opened up in the hedge through which they could get to the other side. they walked through and found themselves on a wide meadow. on the far opposite side, the meadow rose towards woodlands covering a hill like a green woollen cap. and, what was that, some stone pinnacles were lurking from behind the treetops. a castle, little kamuff was wondering, she had never been here before. this is the best place to find truffles, meanwhile her dad explained enthusistically, let’s forage… ahh, surely you must smell them… and started sniffing through the slender grass-blades. little kamuff, still immersed in thoughts about the castle, began to search for the delicacies too. suddenly, there, subtle whiffs of unmistakable truffle-smell wafted past her big muffling nose (all mufflings have big noses, that is there characteristic feature, a bit like coatie-mondis, yes true, but mufflings are a bit smaller, much more congenial and positive in their disposition and generally, quite jolly fellows!). little kamuff followed the luring whiff, faster and faster she ran and suddenly stumbled and fell. lying on her back, four legs up in the air, she heard a grunting voice… all for nothing, who do you think you are… little kamuff looked up and saw a big brown mole-hill a couple of feet next to her. the track little kamuff had dug into the pyramid-like shape was clearly visible and on top a little mole was angrily and with nimble hands trying to rebuild the original heap.

so, ha, what’s that thing… thought you could taunt me, primitive warfare that is, oh i say, primitive… the mole was rather upset. i’m a muffling… - little kamuff says to the wildly gesturing mole. pah, a muffling… ludicrous - so the mole. [we hear profuse apologies from our little kamuff here] - thereupon the mole again: hmm, so then, i am carl, successive winner of the sixth and seventh loess-acre-mole-mountain championship… you just trampled down one of my best pieces. oh dammit! …

[preview: there are all sorts of animals out there on that meadow, meet not only carl, but also sebastian, the cow (also often in conflict with carl for accidentally defecating onto his mole-hills, and hear about the mysterious hawk who was observed in the keep of the castle… huuuh]

” Keep your hair on” interrupted little kamuff getting impatient. “I told you I’m sorry, but if you don’t stop rubbing it in I will trample your second best piece down as well!”

“No such luck,” grumbled the mole. “Already demolished by Sebastian, stupid cow mistakes my house for his toilet… GO BUILD YOUR OWN HOLES!” he shouted out into empty air, Little Kamuff glanced around nervously, but there was no one was in sight. “All you dumb lumbering creatures, just because you’re big, no consideration, absolutely no consideration…”

“Kamuff!” her dad called from somewhere to her right. “Look at this! We hit the jackpot!” Little Kamuff scampered towards him, glad for an excuse to leave the ranting mole. Being a muffling, she could not understand his sour disposition.

Maybe Dad had found a big patch of truffles, or maybe even the green splotchy mushrooms, her favorite.

He was digging at something with his trunk, it twinkled in the sun as she approached. So not truffles or mushrooms then. She was slightly dissapointed, but curious to see what could possibly be better than green mushrooms. He turned towards, wildly excited, and held it up in his trunk for her to examine.

A gold coin. Liffle Kamuff couldn’t see what was so great about it. And, as she came closer, she smelled it again. That smell. Them. The coin smelled like Them. She stumbled back a couple steps, quivering and revolted.

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