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is not where, it is why,’ he said. ‘Why are the Ancestors angry?’
    Hammerhead looked baffled. He hadn’t the foggiest idea.
    â€˜Perhaps we should ask them,’ said Gaga, folding his hands in his lap.
    The Urks murmured agreement – finally someone was talking sense. It stood to reason, if the Ancestors were angry then they must find out why.
    â€˜But no one’s ever seen the Ancestors,’ said Hammerhead. ‘How can we ask them?’
    Gaga the Wise raised a bony finger, pointing to the mountains. ‘Seek them out,’ he said. ‘Someone must climb into the clouds and speak for the tribe.’
    Hammerhead stared. ‘Climb Old Grumbly? Won’t that be dangerous?’
    â€˜Very,’ nodded Gaga. ‘That’s why you must go.’
    â€˜ Me? ’ Hammerhead’s eyes widened.
    â€˜You are the High Chief. You must save your people.’
    â€˜Yes, but . . . but my knees aren’t so good,’ stammered Hammerhead. ‘And I don’t like heights.’
    Gaga was unmoved. ‘Take a companion,’ he said. ‘Someone young and strong.’
    Hammerhead nodded. A companion was a good idea – that way he could send them on ahead to see if it was safe. He looked around for a volunteer but everyone seemed anxious to avoid his eye. Finally he noticed a hand raised in the air.

    â€˜IGGY!’ he boomed. ‘I knew you wouldn’t let me down.’
    â€˜What? No!’ croaked Iggy. ‘I was only –’
    â€˜Good, then that’s settled,’ said Hammerhead, clapping him on the back. ‘We set off at dawn – unless of course the world ends before then.’

Chapter 6
    All of a Lava
    A t first light the next morning, Iggy and Chief Hammerhead took the rough track that wound uphill in the direction of the mountains. They were joined by Umily and Hubba, who insisted on going with them at least as far as the foothills. Old Grumbly loomed in the distance, a plume of cloud curling from its mouth like smoke from a dragon’s nostrils.
    Iggy had never been to the High Mountains before but the closer they got the more he had a bad feeling. No one had ever climbed to the top of Old Grumbly and now didn’t seem the best time to try it. But worse than the volcano itself was the prospect of meeting the Ancestors. Most of them had been dead for hundreds of years so they weren’t going to be looking their best. He wondered if they would appear as ghosts or spirits, or maybe as skeletons with wormy hair.
    As they climbed the foothills, they entered a strange world of swirling cloud and falling ash. Hammerhead had brought gift offerings of nuts and yumberries for the Ancestors, though typically he’d eaten half of them on the way. They paused by a stream, gazing up at the mountain in awed silence. Hubba blew out his cheeks.
    â€˜Yikes! I wouldn’t like to climb that!’
    Iggy gave him a look. ‘Yeah, thanks, Hubba.’
    Umily looked at her father. ‘We could go back. It’s not too late.’
    Hammerhead shook his head. The future of the tribe was in their hands. Besides, he didn’t want people calling him a wimp.
    â€˜Wish us luck,’ he said.
    â€˜Best of luck,’ said Hubba. ‘Say hello to the Ancestors for me.’
    â€˜We’ll be waiting right here for you,’ said Umily. She hugged her father one more time and gave Iggy a grateful smile. Then the two of them began climbing up the steep rocky slope.
    For the first hour they made good progress, but as they climbed higher the landscape grew stranger and more barren. The earth was dry and cracked with a powdery grey crust. Here and there grew stumpy black trees that looked like giants’ fists bursting through the ground. Nothing crawled or crept or made a sound apart from the weird groans and rumbles of the mountain which seemed to come from under their feet. Now and then Iggy would jump back in alarm as a