In separch of the Caterpillar fungus

摘要

The notched rock face loses its morning blush as a cloud eclipses the sun. From the foot of a scree slope comes the burble of a pheasant. Under the grey, craggy walls that ring the mountain valley, a short cry goes up from a form wrapped in a beige woolen cape. Four silhouettes rise quickly from their prone positions and converge on the source of the call. A shrouded figure sinks a small pick into the soft earth and sifts the moist dirt through her fingers. As the soil falls away, a three-centimetre-long, cigar-shaped clump remains in her hand. She carefully picks away the dirt with her fingernails and the yellowish form of a caterpillar emerges. Her companions are already down on their.