by Cathy Hapka
“Thank you.” Jack held up the bowl and smiled at Hopper. “Thank you very much for the water.”
“Water!” Hopper leaped up and down happily, pointing toward the lake below. “Water!”
“Yes.” Jack glanced at Ty. “Did you learn anything else? Why did the Compsognathus run away from us earlier?”
Ty chewed his lower lip. “I'm not sure,” he admitted. “I can't quite figure out what he's saying about that. I think maybe they were scared because there have been no outside visitors here in a long time.”
Hopper was listening carefully, clearly trying to understand the boys' conversation. “Vis-i-tors,” he repeated uncertainly. “Only stories. No real. Only Hopper believe old ones. No visitors but before storms—whoosh!” He flung up his skinny arms and whirled around in place.
Jack wrinkled his brow. “Did you tell him about the sandstorm?” he asked Ty.
The other boy shook his head. “Hopper, what do you mean?” he asked the little saurian. “What storms?”
Hopper scratched his head with one claw, looking worried. Finally he gestured toward the shores of the lake. “Come,” he said. “Ty, Jack. Come, Hopper friend—talk human more good. Come!”
“I guess he wants us to follow him,” Jack said as Hopper scampered away down the slope.
Ty nodded. “Come on, then,” he said. “Let's go.”
CHAPTER 15
Hopper scampered down the hill so fast that the boys had to break into a jog to keep up. Jack's stomach sloshed as he ran. It was full of water, but still very little food. I hope Hopper has some food he can share with us, he thought hopefully. And I hope it's not bugs.
When they reached the bottom of the slope, Hopper veered off to the left, skirting the edge of the lake. The water lapped lazily against the shore, clear and undisturbed. The sandy bottom was visible, showing that the water was only a few inches deep. Jack glanced out across the lake, wondering if the whole thing was that shallow.
He turned back to see where he was going just in time to avoid colliding with Ty, who had slowed to a walk. Hopper was marching along a well-worn path in the grass, chittering in the direction of the rocky outcroppings to either side.
Gradually, other Compsognathus started peering out from the nooks and crannies of the craggy boulders. Jack smiled at them as he passed, but most ducked back shyly whenever he looked their way.
“Wow,” he whispered to Ty. “They sure are shy.”
Ty nodded. “Weird.”
Jack looked around curiously, belatedly realizing that Hopper was leading them through a sizable Compsognathus village. Small, elaborate nests woven of dried palm fronds, cattails, and other materials lined the hard rock. Most were placed in the open on smooth platforms, while others could be seen within shallow caves carved into the rocks or beneath overhangs. Jack suspected that the oasis didn't receive much more rain than the rest of the desert, so the Compsognathus had little need for shelter from the weather.
They probably place their nests carefully to take advantage of any breeze off the lake, he deduced, noting the placements and calculating the most likely meteorological conditions. The sheltered ones must be where they rest from the occasional rainfall. I guess there must not be any large snakes or other dangers like that to worry about here.
Hopper chattered shyly, gesturing at the entire area. “Here,” he said to the boys. “Hopper home. New friends' home, too.”
“He's welcoming us to his home, I think,” Ty told Jack. He bowed toward the little dinosaur. “Thank you,” he said. “It's very nice.”
Hopper seemed pleased. Accepting the canteen Ty handed him, the little saurian set both canteens on the path and chattered to his shy villagemates. Then, returning his attention to the boys and letting out a few more squeaks of his own language, he pointed ahead. Jack saw that another hill rose at the edge of the tree line. A craggy peak was visible among the upper branches of several large ginkgoes and other tall trees.
“If this is the Compsognathus village down here, where is he taking us now?” Jack wondered aloud as the boys continued to follow their tiny guide. He glanced back and saw at least two dozen Compsognathus of all ages clustering around the canteens.
Ty shrugged. “I'm hoping it's to a nice grove of mangoes or coconuts. Or maybe we're going to find some fruit from those ginkgoes—that's what those trees are up ahead, right?”
“Yes.” Jack glanced ahead at the distinctive treetops. He couldn't help being amazed anew at how little Ty knew about botany.
He must have run through the Dribbling Spring ginkgo grove a million times playing Ty-ball or sand tag, he thought, shaking his head slightly as he followed Ty and Hopper into the shade of the tree line. And yet he still isn't positive that those are ginkgoes up there? It's not as if they're easy to confuse with any other tree. . . .
“Come!” Hopper called, waving to them. Then he turned and clambered up a steep, rocky outcropping.
“Looks like we're going for a climb,” Ty commented.
Jack looked up and saw the tall rock formation he had spotted from the clearing rising steeply above them, disappearing in the tree canopy at least forty feet overhead. He gulped, not much relishing the thought of rock climbing at the moment. Then he saw that Hopper had merely taken a shortcut up the sheer face and was now standing on a shallow pathway worn into the rock. The path appeared to wind its way around the cone-shaped outcropping, steep but not impassable. Ty vaulted up to join the little saurian on the path, then turned and offered a hand to Jack.
“Here,” he said. “I'll give you a lift.”
Jack felt a flash of annoyance. Didn't Ty think he could vault up as he had? Or was he planning to pull him halfway up and then drop him on his backside?
Then he shook his head. He's just trying to help, he thought. Don't mistake fireflies for lanterns.
Taking Ty's offered hand, Jack was soon on the path. Hopper was already scurrying ahead. The boys followed a little more slowly, being careful not to step too close to the edge of the path. One glance over the sheer drop-off was all it took to remind Jack to be careful.
After a few minutes of hiking, the three of them emerged out of the tree canopy into the brilliant glare of the afternoon sun breaking through the cloud cover. A few minutes more brought them to a wide, flat area about two-thirds of the way up the rocky peak. Hopper turned around and peered up at the boys.
“Stop?” he queried uncertainly. “Humans rest?”
“Yes,” Ty panted. “Thanks, Hopper. We'd better rest here a minute.”
Jack merely nodded, relieved, and collapsed onto the stony ground. Now that they were out of the shade of the trees, away from the soft lake breezes, it was uncomfortably hot. Having been born and raised in the Great Desert, he was accustomed to high temperatures. But this was different from the dry heat of the desert. The lake and the greenery provided a cloud of humidity that seemed to wrap around him and sap all the energy from his already weakened body. Sweat ran out of every pore, and he wished he'd thought to retrieve and fill his canteen before starting the climb.
Where is Hopper taking us, anyway? he wondered again, mopping his brow with the hem of his shirt. I wish we could understand him better. . . .
As they rested, Hopper chattered excitedly in his own language. Once or twice, he pointed upward, toward the top of the peak.
“Friend,” he squeaked. “Older than storm. Know humans, so help humans.”
“What's he saying?” Jack asked, squinting as he looked up.
Ty frowned slightly, his sunburned brow furrowed in concentration. “I'm not sure,” he admitted. “I think it's something about a friend who will help us? Maybe an elder of his tribe?”
Ty's guess turned out to be correct. When the three of them finally crested the formation's topmost ridge a few minutes later, they saw a rocky platform sheltered by a few outstretched ginkgo branches and a small rock overhang. A large, comfortable-looking nest was tucked halfway under the overhang, and standing before it was
a Compsognathus so ancient that he seemed to be carved out of the craggy rock itself. Hopper bowed respectfully, squeaking out a few words in his own language, and the elderly saurian nodded.
“Breathe deep, seek peace,” he greeted the boys. His voice was quavery with age, his accent was old-fashioned, and his speech sounded slightly garbled, like that of any saurian speaking human language. But he spoke slowly, and Jack was able to follow his words with little trouble. “Welcome. You are the first humans these old eyes have seen in many a long year.”
“You know our language!” Jack blurted out, surprised.
The old Compsognathus dipped his head. “Yes,” he said. “It has been many years—forgive me if I struggle to express myself. My name is Farsight.”
Jack and Ty introduced themselves. At Farsight's invitation, they sat down beneath the overhang while the two saurians crouched across from them.
Jack cleared his throat, wondering what to say next. Luckily, Ty spoke up. “Thank you for your welcome,” he told the old Compsognathus sincerely. “My companion and I are most grateful to have found you. You see, we come from a town in the central desert called Dribbling Spring, and two sunrises past we had the honor of joining a caravan traveling in the direction of Meeramu. . . .”
He went on to tell the entire story, from the caravan's departure to the boys' waking up in the oasis and meeting Hopper. At first Jack felt impatient. Couldn't Ty just summarize their problem and move on to asking for the saurians' help?
But after a few minutes, he actually found himself getting caught up in the tale. Despite the fact that he'd just experienced the whole thing himself, Ty's retelling made it seem exciting and new. He could tell that the saurians were enjoying it, too—Farsight's eyes sparkled with appreciation, and Hopper was leaning forward eagerly, his mouth hanging open slightly as he drank in every word. Once in a while he would turn to the older Compsognathus questioningly, and Farsight would translate a difficult phrase or concept. At those times Ty paused gracefully, resuming the tale when the younger Compsognathus was up to speed.
Maybe knowing saurian language isn't Ty's only skill after all, Jack thought with a hint of grudging admiration.
When Ty finally finished, Farsight nodded and smiled. “It is a fine tale of courage,” he said. “Both of you should be proud that you made it to us. No others have found their way here in many years now. It's quite a surprise to us, as you may have noted.”
“I was wondering about that,” Jack blurted out. “I mean, the others down there”—he pointed in the direction of the clearing—“they seemed nervous. Even scared of us.”
Farsight smiled sadly, glancing toward the drop-off. “You must understand, to see you walk into the village—well, to them it would be like Perseus or Hercules suddenly stepping out amongst modern-day Greeks.”
Ty looked slightly confused, but Jack leaned forward eagerly. “You know about Perseus and Hercules?” he asked Farsight in surprise. “I read about them in an old scroll once.”
“Of course.” Farsight dipped his head in affirmation. “In the old days, my parents were scholars. They taught me much, even after the storms came.”
“Wait a second,” Ty broke in. “Are you saying that no humans have been to this oasis since . . . since . . . well, for years and years?”
Farsight nodded again. “No humans, and no other saurians, either. Not for at least four generations now. The colony—at least the younger amongst us—have started to assume that the old tales of Dinotopia were mere legends, or stories of the very distant past.”
“Not Hopper!” Hopper spoke up quickly. “Hopper believes Farsight.”
Farsight smiled at the young Compsognathus. “Yes, but you are an unusual case, my young friend.”
“What do you mean, ‘legends'?” Jack asked.
“Perhaps it would help if I gave you a brief history of my home.” The old saurian paused, gathering his thoughts. “It is said that in the old days, before I was hatched, this oasis was an important outpost in this part of the desert. Many caravans passed this way, following an ancient road between Meeramu and Foothill Pass.”
“Foothill Pass?” Jack interrupted. “I've never heard of that. Is it a town?”
“It was, if the stories my elders told were correct,” Farsight replied. “A small village, but full of art and learning and citizens of many species and backgrounds, just as this oasis once was. Come, I will show you.”
Jack left the area beneath the overhang and followed the ancient Compsognathus out to the edge of the precipice. Though a look straight down gave him only a dizzying glimpse of the treetops below, a glance in any other direction offered a breathtaking view of the oasis and the vast desert beyond.
Jack's heart sank as he stared out past the treetops at the seemingly endless rolling dunes of sun-bleached sand. In all the excitement of discovering the Compsognathus settlement and meeting Hopper and Farsight, the urgency of his and Ty's problems had faded slightly. Now it returned to his mind at full force. The old saurian said that no visitors had come this way in more than four generations. If that was true, what were the chances of their caravan finding them here?
Farsight directed their gaze to a nearer spot, a slight clearing in the jungle off to the left. “Do you see the remains of the tower down there?” he asked. “That was once a library full of scrolls. They've all long since been carried off or turned to dust. And over there, the crumbling foundation near the western shore of the lake—in the old days that was the hatchery. There are many more ruins of old buildings here and there throughout the oasis.”
“I think we saw one on our way through the forest,” Jack commented. “Near that stream we followed here. It was just a big stone wall with vines growing up it. There were a few pieces of pottery nearby.”
Farsight nodded. “I suspect you saw the old Springside Tavern,” he said. “It was once the busiest inn anywhere in the Great Desert.”
“So what happened to change all that?” Ty asked curiously. “How did the oasis become lost?”
“Our removal from the rest of Dinotopian society was not intentional, as in the case of the Lost City of the Unrivaled, or the nomadic Orofani, who wander their lonely territory in the desert near the canyons—at least they did so in my day.” Farsight shook his head. “No, our separation came as the result of the Season of Storms, also known as the Years of Howling Sand. One after another, violent sandstorms swept through this part of the desert. They were so strong that they caused chaos even within our oasis, despite the protection of the trees and hills. Many were injured, some even killed.”
Farsight paused, lowering his eyes before he continued. “Many worried that the climate was changing. They feared that the sandstorms would continue, grow worse. That the springs might dry up due to the storms, as happened to several smaller oases nearby. People and saurians started to leave, to move to Meeramu or other places. Before long, only a few were left, among them my family and perhaps a dozen more Compsognathus, along with a number of larger saurians and a handful of humans. That was when the big one hit.”
“You mean another sandstorm?” Ty asked.
“Not just storm,” Hopper put in fearfully. “Monster storm.”
Farsight nodded. “It was the sandstorm to end all sandstorms.” His voice quavered slightly. “I remember it still, though I was only a few years out of the egg at the time. The wind howled like a demon, the ground and trees shook as if the earth itself were being pulled apart. Those of us small enough to take cover in the crevices and fissures in the rocks survived.” He paused and shuddered. “The others were not so lucky.”
There was a moment of silence. Jack tried to imagine what it must have been like—experiencing a sandstorm many times worse than the one he and Ty had barely survived. It defied the imagination.
Finally Ty spoke. “Then what happened?” he asked. “Why didn't your parents and the other Compsognathus finally move to Meeramu like the others after that big storm?”
“They
wanted to,” Farsight replied. “After all, there was little to keep us here at that point. The buildings were flattened and many ancient trees were lost in the storms. Most of their friends were gone. And they knew that the caravans would not be likely to return—the storms had made the route too dangerous. But that was the problem.”
The tiny saurian shrugged one thin shoulder expressively. “Every time they tried to mount a caravan, another storm threatened. Finally they decided to wait and see if the stormy season would pass.” He smiled. “By the time it did, we had built a new civilization here, new children had hatched, the spring was still providing plenty of fresh water, we still had several thriving patches of Arctium longevus to ensure health and long life, along with all the minnows and mosquitoes and fruit we could eat. Leaving seemed less important. In fact, legends and stories had already built up around the Years of Howling Sand. It was said that if anyone tried to leave the oasis, the storms would return to threaten all. Some even began to believe that this oasis was the only life-providing spot left on Dinotopia—that the Season of Storms had turned the rest of the island into one enormous, barren desert where no one could survive.”
“Wow.” Jack stared out over the peaceful oasis below. “But surely not everyone believed those things?”
“Not at first,” Farsight replied, stroking his narrow chin with one claw. “But as the years went by and the older among us passed on, the superstitions took stronger hold. Now I am the only one left who remembers those days firsthand. And only a few of the younger ones, like Hopper here, still believe there's a whole island out there, perhaps even dream of leaving here one day to explore it for themselves.” Farsight paused and smiled fondly at the younger Compsognathus. “The rest choose to believe that we are alone on Dinotopia. Although I suppose they'll have to rethink that position now that you lads are here.” He laughed, his eyes nearly disappearing into the deep wrinkles that surrounded them.
