The Penguins

Last summer the Ruiz family went on holiday to Australia. One evening they drove to Phillip Island, near Melbourne, to see the little penguins. These are the smallest penguins in the world. Every night, after sunset, they come out of the sea and walk to their nests in the sand.

There were a lot of tourists on the beach. Hundreds of people were sitting on long wooden seats and waiting. There wasn't much light, and it was very cold. "How many penguins are there?" asked Leo, who was eight. "I don't know," said his mother. "Let's wait and see."

A guide explained the rules. "You can't take any photos, because the light hurts the penguins' eyes. And please don't make much noise." Leo was disappointed. He wanted to take a lot of photos for his friends at school.

They waited for twenty minutes. Nothing happened. Sara, his little sister, was hungry, so her father gave her a few biscuits. There was only a little water in the bottle, and they shared it. "There aren't any penguins," said Leo. "They aren't coming."

Then someone said, "Look!" In the water there were a few small dark shapes. Five penguins came out of the waves and stood on the sand. They looked left and right, and then they ran up the beach together, like little waiters in black and white suits.

After that, more and more penguins arrived. First ten, then fifty, then hundreds. They walked past the family, so close that Leo could hear their funny little noises. Nobody said a word.

At ten o'clock the family walked back to the car. Leo didn't have any photos, but he wasn't sad. "So, how many penguins did we see?" asked his father. Leo smiled. "Too many to count."