The Stump That Played Two Ways

“This stump is my drum!” said Rexley. “It’s my hiding place!” said a voice inside.

Rexley stopped beside the hollow stump in the middle of the forest clearing. He was a young triceratops with three little horns and a plan for the afternoon. He had practiced a dance with two stomps, a tail swish, and a spin. All he needed was the stump’s deep, booming sound.

“Who’s in there?” he asked.

“Milo,” came the voice. “A little compsognathus. I’m playing hide-and-peek.”

Rexley leaned close to the opening. “I’m Rexley. I came to play my drum-and-dance game.”

“I can’t see you,” Milo said. “That means my hiding place is working.”

“It is working very well,” Rexley said. “But I need the stump for my drum.”

“I need it for hiding,” Milo replied. “It has a roof and a door. It’s the best place in the clearing.”

Rexley tapped the stump with one hoof. BOOM! The sound rolled through the ferns. Inside, Milo gave a surprised squeak.

“Please don’t drum while I’m hiding,” Milo called. “It makes my hiding feel jumpy.”

Rexley lowered his hoof. “I didn’t know you were in there. I thought the stump was empty.”

“And I didn’t know anyone wanted to drum on it,” said Milo. “I found it first.”

Rexley looked at the smooth bark. He had imagined his friends hearing the beat and watching his dance. He had even picked a spot where everyone could see his best spin.

“I really wanted to play here,” he said.

“So did I,” Milo answered. “I wanted a quiet place where nobody would find me until I peeked out.”

Rexley sat down in the grass. His dance feet felt ready, but the stump was not empty, and Milo’s voice sounded small inside it.

“Maybe there’s another way,” Rexley said.

“Another way to hide?” Milo asked.

“Or another way to drum,” Rexley said. “Let’s talk before either of us gives up.”

The stump held its breathful quiet around them. Rexley waited by the opening, and Milo waited inside, each wondering what the other might suggest.

“What if I drum somewhere else?” Rexley asked. He tapped a flat stone with one hoof. Tok, tok. The sound was thin as a twig.

“Not very drumlike,” he said.

“Maybe you could use the stump when I’m not hiding,” Milo suggested. “Then I could hide later.”

Rexley considered this. “That could work, but I want to play my whole dance. And you might want to hide for a long time.”

“I might,” Milo said. “I’m very good at it.”

“Could we take turns?” Rexley asked.

Milo poked his small nose out of the opening. “How would I know when it was my turn to come out?”

Rexley tapped the stump once. BOOM.

“I heard that,” Milo said. “But I thought you were telling me to stay hidden.”

“Then one tap can mean something,” Rexley said. “We need another signal, too.”

Milo peeked farther out. “What if two quick taps mean, ‘Come out and dance’?”

“Good!” Rexley tried them. Tok-tok.

Milo stayed inside. “I heard two taps, but how do I tell you I’m ready?”

“You could scratch the inside of the stump,” Rexley said.

Milo scraped one tiny claw along the wood. Scritch, scritch.

Rexley grinned. “That means, ‘I’m hiding and ready!’”

“Let’s test it,” Milo said. “I’ll hide. You wait.”

Milo slipped inside. Rexley stood still with his hooves tucked close. A moment passed. Then came scritch, scritch.

Rexley tapped once. BOOM.

Milo stayed hidden.

“Now two taps,” Milo called.

Rexley tapped twice. Tok-tok!

Milo popped out, and Rexley did his two stomps, tail swish, and spin. His toes landed in a patch of soft leaves with a funny fwump.

Milo laughed. “That’s the best part!”

“Again?” Rexley asked.

“Again,” said Milo. “But I’ll hide in a different spot inside. You won’t know where!”

Their idea had turned the stump into a drum, a hiding place, and a game. Rexley waited for the little scratch. Milo chose his hiding corner. Then the first signal sounded, and their game began anew.

The game went on at an easy pace. Milo hid inside the stump, and Rexley waited beside it with his hooves quiet in the grass.

Scritch, scritch.

BOOM.

Tok-tok!

Milo popped out, and Rexley began his dance. Two stomps. A tail swish. A spin. This time, he landed with a proud little nod.

“Your turn to drum,” Rexley said. “I’ll hide.”

“You’ll fit?” Milo asked.

“I’m a little triceratops,” Rexley said. “I’m not as little as you, but I can hide behind those ferns.”

Milo considered the ferns. “That’s a good hiding place. I’ll be the drummer.”

Rexley tucked himself behind the leafy fronds. His horns peeked out, so he shifted left. Then his tail showed, so he curled it around his side.

“Ready!” he called.

Milo tapped the stump once. BOOM.

Rexley stayed hidden.

Milo tapped twice. Tok-tok!

Rexley sprang from the ferns and danced. Milo drummed a slow beat while Rexley swayed and stepped. The clearing filled with a sound that seemed to belong to both of them.

When they had played enough, Rexley sat beside the stump. Milo sat near the opening, where he could still duck inside if he wished.

“I thought you were trying to take my place,” Rexley said. “But you just wanted a quiet hiding spot.”

“And I thought you wanted to make me come out,” Milo said. “But you just wanted your dance to have a drum.”

“Now we can do both,” Rexley said.

Milo nodded. “One tap means I stay hidden. Two taps mean I come out. And my scratch means I’m ready.”

They tried the signals once more, slowly. Milo scratched from inside. Rexley tapped once. The stump gave a warm, low BOOM. After a pause, Rexley tapped twice. Tok-tok.

At the last soft tap, Milo peeked out. Rexley bowed, and they agreed to play again tomorrow.