The Wild Robot

CHAPTER 16 THE PINE TREE

Roz was in no hurry to leave the tree. She stayed on her branch long after the bears had gone, enjoying some peace and looking herself over.

In addition to bite marks and claw marks, the robot was also covered in dirt, which, of course, meant it was time for another cleaning. She was making good progress when she felt something sticky on her arm. The problem with sitting in a pine tree is that, eventually, the tree’s sticky resin will find you. It always does. And it found Roz. The robot scrubbed and scraped at the resin, and soon her fingers were completely coated in the sticky stuff. Then it was all over her arms and her legs and her torso. And things were about to get even messier.

A robin swooped into the tree and began screeching and fluttering around Roz. The bird had recently finished building herself a new nest. It was a little work of art, a delicate basket woven from grass and twigs and feathers, and it was right above the robot’s head.

“Screech! Screech!” said the robin.

“I do not understand you, robin,” said the robot.

The robin continued screeching and fluttering, and then—splat—she splattered her droppings across the robot’s face. This bird was serious. So Roz scooted away, farther out on the branch, until she heard a quick, sharp crack. Before Roz knew what was happening, the tree branch snapped under her weight and she went crashing to the forest floor. She hit the ground hard and lay there as broken branches and pinecones and needles showered down on top of her. There was another splat. And then quiet returned to the forest.

CHAPTER 17 THE CAMOUFLAGED INSECT

Roz was a mess. She lay under the tree, covered in a heap of broken branches and pinecones and needles. She still hadn’t removed the sticky resin from her body. And then there were the bird droppings. She was about to get up and give herself a rigorous cleaning when she noticed a peculiar twig. The twig was moving. It was crawling along one of the broken branches on the ground. With a gentle touch, the robot picked up the twig.

“Hello, stick insect, my name is Roz. You are very well camouflaged.”

The stick insect’s body was long and thin. He had the same shape and colors and markings as a real twig. But if you looked closely, you just might see two tiny eyes and two spindly antennae. The insect didn’t make a sound, and he sat perfectly still. As still as the robot. The two of them sat still and silently stared at each other for a while.

“Thank you, stick insect,” said Roz as she placed him back where she found him. “You have taught me an important lesson. I can see how camouflage helps you survive; perhaps it could help me survive also.”

CHAPTER 18 THE CAMOUFLAGED ROBOT

As you know, reader, Roz had always liked to keep herself as clean as possible. But her desire to stay alive was stronger than her desire to stay clean, and our robot decided it was time she got dirty. Roz was going to camouflage herself.

She’d gotten the idea from the stick insect, but Roz quickly realized that camouflaging herself as a twig was out of the question. No, the robot would have to blend into the landscape itself. She began by smearing handfuls of thick mud over her entire body. Then she plucked ferns and grasses from the ground and sank their roots into her new muddy coating. She placed colorful flowers around her face to disguise her glowing eyes, and any bare patches were covered with tree leaves and strips of moss. Our robot now looked like a great tuft of plants walking through the forest. She waited for darkness, and then she padded to the center of a clearing, nestled herself between some rocks, and became part of the landscape.

A few hours later, the sky was brightening, the fog was lifting, the nighttime animals were slinking home, and the daytime animals were beginning to stir. It was just an ordinary morning on the island. However, there was that new tuft of plants in that one forest clearing. Only the bees had noticed the tuft. They buzzed around it, completely unaware that the robot was hidden beneath. And so Roz sat there, right in the open yet completely unseen, and observed the wilderness around her.

She watched flowers slowly turn toward the sun.

She listened to rodents crawl through the weeds.

She smelled the moist, piney air.

She felt worms wiggle against her muddy sides.

A week later, the tuft of plants was gone, but there was a new clump of seaweed on the shore. A week after that, the clump of seaweed was gone, but there was a new bramble on the mountain. Then there was a new log on the riverbank. Then a new rock in the forest.