Pogo the Goat and the Cliff Where the Wind Lives

Chapter 1: A little goat ignores his mother’s warning, goes near the cliff, and learns why rules protect us

On a green mountainside called Highgrass Hollow, there lived a young goat named Pogo.

Pogo had little white horns that hadn't quite finished growing, hooves that never stopped bouncing, and a heart full of curiosity. He could leap over logs, skip across streams, and scramble up rocks faster than any kid on the mountain.

He was also very sure that he knew best.

Every morning, Mama Goat walked the herd to the sweet clover meadow. Every evening, she called them home. And every day, she reminded them of one important rule.

"Stay away from the Edge," she said, nodding toward the far side of the mountain, where the grass ended and the world seemed to fall away. "The ground there is loose, and the drop is very steep. You may play anywhere else, but never go near the cliff."

"Yes, Mama," said the little goats.

Pogo said it too. But his ears twitched, and his mind began to wander.

Why can't I go? I'm a very good climber. I could jump along the edge without any trouble. Rules are for goats who aren't as brave as me.

One bright afternoon, while the herd dozed in the sun, Pogo wandered off.

At first, he only meant to take a peek. He trotted past the clover, past the stream, and up the stony slope until the grass grew thin and the wind began to whistle.