Jack cupped his hands over his ears and yelled, “Stop it!” Instantly there was silence. “Thanks, Jack,” said Pat. “If they make a noise like that, I won’t be able to hear my own squeaks and we’ll never get out of here.” Morris stepped forward. “Sorry about the noise,” he said. “It’s all a bit too much for them.” “They need to control themselves,” said Jack. “We’ll try,” said Morris. “What do you want us to do?” Jack looked around. Already Chainsaw and Pat were investigating where the stream disappeared into a tunnel. It looked like it would be big enough for everyone to get through. The problem was how would the moho cope with the dark? He thought back to an exercise they’d done at a school camp in Wellington. He turned to Morris. “Can you moho count?” Morris gave him a pained look. “Of course we can.” “Good! Then I’m going to allocate each bird a number. When we get into the tunnel we can check everyone’s with us by counting out the numbers in sequence.”
