It was at this point that letters sent to Dr. Fowlstien's Nephew began to appear along with those sent to the board of trustees. I have included the letters in chronological order of when they were dated. Unfortunately few replies from this nephew were found. I have removed his name to preserve his anonymity.
August 9, 1953
My Dear Nephew,
I bring you greetings. I apologize for the great breadth of time since I last wrote. I have been oft away on expeditions, and unable to write. I am having trouble convincing the board to fund my next expedition, they claim that I have not shown any substantial progress towards the major discovery I promised. Have they not read my letters? I have told them of Swooprren and Basili, and yet they still deny me the assistance I need to continue my research. It is like they care nothing for the study of ancient civilizations!
It reminds me of the last time I was in Italy, tracing the final days of Chickentopia. Their society had grown to gargantuan proportions, and bureaucracy seemed to have taken over the intellectuals. Just an example of this is one of the widely accepted theories of the era. Some so called scientist had come up with the idea that all life had started in a pile of filth, and that the first creature to draw breathe on the planet was a dung beetle. One of the most notable of these scientists, a bird named Charwing, wrote a synopsis of his theory which I uncovered near Venice.
The evidence is clear, there is no question any more that the theory of the origin of fowls is fact. There was naught but dung when the world began, as the pile shifted at random over countless moons, beetles were formed when the pieces fell together just right. These first creatures on our planet, the noble Dung Beetles, are the foundation of life. As they bred and multiplied, they began to move the dung, and over many more countless moons, other creatures were formed when the dung was, by chance, configured just right. Long after such mundane creatures and cows, hawks, and humans were formed, a very special pile of dung was somehow formed. Out of this pile, the greatest of all creatures sprung, the Chicken. We have all come from the dung heap, and must respect it as an equal, not exploit it and destroy the very environment from which we arose.
It was theories like these, and the fact that birds like Charwing pushed them so hard, that I believe led to the destruction of Chickentopia. We should take warning from this, and be careful to avoid such absurd mob mentality, ever fearful of new, or unusual ideas.
I shall try again to write to the board, this time explaining the language of the chickens, and how I have been able to decipher it only through such generous support as that which I am begging of them. Thank you for listening, I shall make an effort to visit you before I leave for my next expedition.