On a bright morning, Explorer Dirtbike up in air Tommus woke in a little red tent on the side of a Mountain. Everyone called him Tommus for short. Tommus was a kind and curious explorer. He wore a round blue helmet, yellow boots, and a backpack full of useful things: a tiny bell, a warm scarf, three crackers, a pencil, and a shiny silver spoon.
Beside the tent stood his dirt bike. It had big bumpy wheels and a small flag that said, “Up, up, hooray!” Tommus loved to ride over pebbles, around puddles, and along twisty paths. But he always rode slowly when he saw a snail, a bird, or a sleepy squirrel.
“Good morning, Mountain!” Tommus called.
The Mountain did not answer.
Usually, the Mountain made happy sounds. It hummed with streams. It whooshed with pine trees. It echoed with goat bells. But today it was very, very quiet.
Then Tommus heard a tiny sniffle.
“Sniff. Sniff.”
He put one yellow boot outside the tent. “Who is sad?” he asked.
From behind a tall purple rock stepped Adventurer. Adventurer was a little explorer with a green cap, a map as wide as his arms, and a nose that wiggled when he was worried. He was brave on high paths, but he did not like being alone.
“The Mountain is lonely,” Adventurer whispered. “Last night, its Echoes rolled away. Without its Echoes, the Mountain cannot sing back when anyone says hello.”
Tommus looked up at the snowy top. “Where did the Echoes go?”
Adventurer opened his huge map. The wind blew it over his face.
“Pffft! Map trouble!” he said.
Tommus gently held down one corner with his silver spoon. Adventurer held another with his boot. On the map were three round marks: the Giggle Tunnel, the Cloudy Cliff, and the Hidden Cave.
“A little marmot saw three Echoes bouncing toward the Hidden Cave,” said Adventurer. “Will you help me find them?”
“Yes!” said Tommus. “We will help our Mountain sing.”
He put on his helmet. Adventurer climbed onto the back seat of the dirt bike and held the little flag.
“Ready?” asked Tommus.
“Ready-ish!” said Adventurer.
“Vroom, gentle vroom!” said Tommus.
The dirt bike rolled up the mountain path. It went over little stones: bump-bump. It crossed a wooden bridge: clack-clack. It passed three goats eating grass.
“Hello!” called Tommus.
“Baa!” said the goats.
But there was no echo saying, “Hello... hello!”
Tommus’s heart felt soft and sad for the quiet Mountain. “We will find them,” he promised.
Soon they reached the Giggle Tunnel. The tunnel was dark inside, but not scary-dark. It smelled like wet stone and sweet moss. From deep inside came a funny sound.
“Ho-ho-ho! Hee-hee-hee!”
Adventurer’s nose wiggled. “That sounds like an Echo.”
Tommus switched on his bike light. A golden circle shone ahead. They walked slowly into the tunnel. On a ledge sat the first Echo. It looked like a small, fluffy puff of blue air. Every time a drop of water fell, it copied the sound.
“Plink!” said the drop.
“Plink-plink!” giggled the Echo.
“Hello, little Echo,” Tommus said.
“Hello, little Echo, Echo!” it replied.
“Would you like to come home?” asked Adventurer.
The Echo bobbed sadly. “I got stuck. The tunnel is so funny. Every sound makes me laugh.”
Tommus looked at the slippery rocks. “I have an idea.” He took out his warm scarf. He tied one end around a smooth rock and laid the scarf across a tiny puddle.
“A soft path,” said Adventurer.
The Echo bounced onto the scarf. Boing! It did not slip. It bounced all the way to Tommus’s backpack.
“Plink-plink, thank you!” it said.
“One Echo found,” cheered Adventurer.
Outside, the Mountain made the faintest sound: “Thank you... you...”
Tommus smiled. “It is trying!”
They rode higher, where the trees became small and the wind became cool. White clouds floated around the Cloudy Cliff like giant sheep. At the edge of the path, they found the second Echo.
This Echo was a purple puff of air. It was sneezing clouds.
“Achoo!” it squeaked.
A round cloud popped out.
“Achoo-choo!” it echoed.
The purple Echo could not see the way home. Every time it tried to bounce, another cloud covered its eyes.
“I need to see the path,” it said. “But my cloud sneezes are too big.”
Adventurer tried fanning the clouds with his map. Flap, flap, flap! The map flew up and landed on his head.
“I am a map monster!” he said in a muffled voice.
Tommus laughed, but only a little. Then he remembered his tiny bell. He rang it once.
Ting!
The blue Echo in his backpack answered, “Ting-ting!”
Tommus rang the bell again. Ting!
The sound was clear and bright. The purple Echo listened. It closed its puffy eyes and followed the bell sound, one careful bounce at a time.
“Boing,” it said.
“Ting!” said Tommus.
“Boing,” said the Echo.
“Ting!” said Tommus.
At last, the purple Echo bounced safely into the backpack beside the blue one.
“Two Echoes found!” said Adventurer, pulling the map off his head.
Far below, the Mountain whispered, “Found... found...”
Now the map showed only one last round mark. It was near the Hidden Cave, under the snowy top. The path was too narrow for the dirt bike. Tommus parked it beside a friendly pine tree.
“Please watch my bike,” he said.
The pine tree rustled its branches. “Shhh-shhh.”
“I think that means yes,” said Adventurer.
Tommus and Adventurer walked side by side. The snow made soft crunch sounds under their boots. They shared one cracker with a little bird. They shared another cracker with each other. The last cracker was saved for later.
At last they saw the Hidden Cave. Its door was not made of wood. It was made of ice, clear as a window. Behind it was the third Echo, a silver puff of air. It was pressed against the ice.
“Are you all right?” Tommus asked.
“I am cold,” said the silver Echo. “I tried to make a big mountain sound. ‘BOOM!’ But my boom froze into this ice door.”
Adventurer looked at the ice. “We must not bang it. The cave is old and gentle.”
Tommus nodded. He was determined, but careful. He took out his silver spoon and held it near the ice. The spoon caught a sunbeam. A bright little spot danced on the frozen door.
“Can you help us, Sun?” Tommus called.
The sun warmed the spoon. The spoon warmed the ice. Drip. Drip. Drip.
A small hole appeared, just big enough for a puff of air.
“Come this way!” said Adventurer.
The silver Echo tried to squeeze through. It puffed wide. It puffed thin. It wobbled like jelly.
“I cannot do it!” it cried.
Tommus held out his hands. “You can. Take your time. We are here.”
Adventurer added, “You do not need a giant boom. A little brave puff is enough.”
The silver Echo took a tiny breath.
“Pooof,” it said.
It slipped through the hole and landed in Tommus’s hands.
“Pooof-pooof!” it said happily.
All three Echoes bounced together inside the backpack. “Home! Home! Home!”
Tommus, Adventurer, and the Echoes hurried down to the widest part of the Mountain. It was a round meadow with bright flowers and a stream that curled like a ribbon. The Mountain waited above them, quiet and hopeful.
“Where should the Echoes go?” asked Adventurer.
Tommus saw a great hollow in the mountain wall. It was shaped like an open ear.
“Right there!” he said.
He opened his backpack. The blue Echo bounced out first.
“Plink-plink!”
The purple Echo floated out next.
“Achoo-choo!”
The silver Echo flew out last.
“Pooof-pooof!”
Together they zoomed into the great hollow.
For one small moment, nothing happened.
Then Tommus called, “Hello, Mountain!”
The Mountain answered, “Hello, Tommus! Hello, Adventurer!”
The trees whooshed. The stream sang. The goat bells jingled. Even the clouds made a soft “whooo.” The whole Mountain was singing again.
A warm rumble rolled under Tommus’s boots. It was not a scary rumble. It was a happy Mountain laugh.
From a crack in the meadow rose a little stone box. It opened with a click.
Inside were two sparkling prizes: a golden explorer badge with a tiny dirt bike on it, and a bright blue horn for Tommus’s bike.
The badge said, “Friend of the Mountain.”
The horn made a cheerful sound: “Toot-toot, hooray!”
Tommus gave the badge to Adventurer first.
“But we found the Echoes together,” said Adventurer.
“So we can share,” said Tommus.
They pinned the golden badge between them on Adventurer’s green cap, and they fixed the blue horn onto Tommus’s dirt bike.
Then they rode gently home as the sun turned orange. Tommus pressed the horn one time.
“Toot-toot, hooray!”
“Hooraaaay!” sang the Mountain.
Adventurer laughed. “Now that is the best echo of all.”
Tommus smiled under his blue helmet. He had learned that even a quiet, lonely Mountain could feel better when friends listened, helped, and stayed close.
And every morning after that, Tommus would call, “Good morning, Mountain!”
The Mountain always answered, “Good morning, Friend of the Mountain!”