Wow, said Blurtso, I’ve been walking a long time. Nebraska is farther than I thought. I wonder if I’m getting close? I wonder if I already passed it? I wonder if I passed it and am now walking away? I wish I could see above the corn. I haven’t found a single giraffe. 

   
I think I’m walking in circles. I wonder if I’m walking in big circles or little circles? If I walk in bigger and bigger circles I should reach the edge of the field. I wonder what’s beyond the cornfield? I wonder if it’s a canefield? A canefield is taller than a cornfield. Even a giraffe wouldn’t walk into a canefield. A giraffe wouldn’t walk into a canefield or a cornfield, apparently. I should have turned back when I didn’t see the giraffes. Yes, that’s what I should have done, I should have followed the giraffes. Hey, what's this? said Blurtso. An opening in the corn! Oh boy! I can hardly wait to see what's there! Hmmm, said Blurtso, would you look at that, a wide flat space. An empty space, without a single giraffe. That's not good. I wonder what's beyond this empty space? Probably another field. Blurtso looked at the field from which he had emerged, then he looked at the space. I guess if I walk along the edge of the corn I will get to where I went in. Blurtso remembered the vines of his tomato patch and the opening in the corn. I wouldn't mind a tomato, he thought, I guess I should have saved one for myself. Thinking there might be one last tomato in his garden, Blurtso walked along the edge of the field. I wonder what time it is? The shadows of the corn are as long as my nose, so it must be before noon. I hope my tomato isn't shriveled in the sun. I hope there's some shade from the vines. Maybe my tomato is in the shade. Is my garden to the east or the west of the corn? I think it's to the east. Although... if the time is before noon and my shadow is to the right and I'm walking toward my garden then I must be walking south, so my garden is to the south of the corn. Unless I emerged from the corn to the east and I'm walking away from my garden... 
    
And so he went, walking and worrying, figuring and fretting, gladdening and saddening, until he eventually reached the garden. My garden! he cried, tearing through the vines for his last tomato. Nothing... he said, dropping his rump to the ground. I must have picked them all. I guess that's that, he said, sitting on the ground. No more tomatoes. And so he sat, surrounded by his vines watching the shadows stretch, until the sun began to set and he heard a rustle in the corn... 

 
What's that?! he said. A giraffe! A penguin! A pterodactyl! Oh my goodness! An enormous boxing-glove nose! Hello, said Pablo, emerging from the corn, I've brought you a crate of tomatoes, I have more than I need. A happier donkey in an empty garden the world has never seen. Oh thank you, said Blurtso, and began to eat. When he was finished he laid his head against the crate and let out a sigh. Ahhhhhhhh, he sighed. Was it hard to find my garden? he said, turning to Pablo. No, said Pablo, I just followed the giraffes. Did you see any pterodactyls in the corn? asked Blurtso. Of course not, said Pablo, Nebraska is only 6,000 years old.