Лилиан Браун - The Cat Who Moved A Montain

"I don't know why I came to the damned Potatoes in the first place! Do you know, Koko?" Then he answered his own question. He remembered the party celebrating his inheritance ... all those good friends ... all that mediocre food . . . someone suggesting the Potato Mountains for a vacation . . . himself jumping at the idea and pursuing it like a fool, persevering against odds, agreeing to pay $1,000 a week for a white elephant. Why? What attracted him? How could he explain his stubborn resolve?

Koko was watching him with twitching whiskers, and Qwilleran put a hand to his own moustache. Slowly the cat rose from his lounging position on the bed. He arched his back and stiffened his tail and pranced, stiff-legged, around the mattress. Qwilleran watched the performance and wondered what it was supposed to convey, if anything.

Round and round Koko paraded until Qwilleran recalled the revolving circle on top of Little Potato—the silent marchers with lanterns, believing in the power of thought and fervently willing their kinsman to be returned to them.

No! he thought. How could their influence be felt in Pickax, many hundreds of miles away? "Impossible!" he said aloud, and yet he stroked his moustache with a heavy hand, and as he pondered the cosmic conundrum, Koko caught another spider.