by Gary Paulsen
For more than forty years,
Yearling has been the leading name
in classic and award-winning literature
for young readers.
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favorite authors and characters,
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humor, history, mystery, and fantasy.
Trust Yearling paperbacks to entertain,
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in all children.
THE LEGEND OF RED HORSE CAVERN
RODOMONTE'S REVENGE
ESCAPE FROM FIRE MOUNTAIN
THE ROCK JOCKEYS
HOOK 'EM, SNOTTY!
DANGER ON MIDNIGHT RIVER
CHAPTER 1
Daniel Martin took one last look around his bedroom. It was point-less to put it off any longer. With a sigh he grabbed his suitcase, threw his sleeping bag up on his shoulder, and slowly walked outside.
The front screen door slammed behind him. He stood on the porch, ran his hand through his short brown hair, and looked up at the dark clouds in the sky. If he was lucky, there would be a storm and the whole dumb trip would be canceled.
He thought about his mom. He knew she wouldn't be able to come and see him off. She was work-ing. She was always working.
Daniel's mother was the day-shift waitress down at the Corner Cafe in town. It had taken her a year of scrimping and saving to get together enough money to send him to Camp Eagle Nest in the Premonition Mountains. This trip was so important to her. She said she wanted Daniel to have some fun for a change.
Daniel didn't want to go to any stupid camp. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate his mom's hard work, but he would rather have spent this summer the way he had every other summer since his dad had died five years earlier—in the Rocky Mountains with his uncle Smitty.
Uncle Smitty didn't treat him the way everyone else did. Up in the mountains it was understood that Daniel could take care of himself. He had spent a lot of time listening and learning about things that might mean the difference be-tween life and death.
Daniel sighed again. That was another world. In this world—this town world—he was his mama's baby boy. He was thirteen years old, but she insisted on driving him to school and kissing him goodbye every morning.
School wasn't much better. At school he was the class no-body. They called him things like nerd face and dork breath. It wasn't his fault he was a slow learner. For some reason, he just couldn't understand things as easily in school as when Uncle Smitty taught him stuff at the cabin. The teacher called him a student with special needs. Most of the kids called him retarded.
Daniel rounded the corner by the gas station in the center of town and looked up. His lanky frame stiffened. Wouldn't you just knowit? The Eagle Nest van is already here. The driver's probably one of those cheerful types who'll whistle and make jokes all the way to the camp.
For a second he entertained the thought of going to the cafe and tell-ing his mother that he'd missed the van. But knowing her, she'd work twice as hard so that she could get off early and drive him the seventy miles to the stupid camp.
No, he'd just have to tough it out. Uncle Smitty had told him it probably wouldn't be that bad. He'd said to try and have fun with it. Fun—at a rich kids' camp for snobs. Sure, no problem.
No, he'd just have to tough it out. Uncle Smitty had told him it probably wouldn't be that bad. He'd said to try and have fun with it. Fun—at a rich kids' camp for snobs. Sure, no problem.
The driver was standing by the back of the van when Daniel walked up. “You're late, squirt. Give me your gear and let's get this show on the road.”
Daniel shrugged and handed him his suitcase. So much for the cheerful type.
The large man practically ripped the sleeping bag out of Daniel's hand. “I said let's go, kid. I don't get paid by the hour. This is my first trip as a driver for the camp and I don't want no foul-ups.” He shoved the boy toward the sliding side door of the van.
“Well, well. Look who's here. Daniel the dork.”
Daniel paused on the second step and looked up into the pudgy face of Scotty Howard. His worst nightmare had just come true. Scotty and his Mends Troy Dennis and Brandon March were the only other passengers in the van.
Troy was big for his age, with an attitude to match. He looked out the window. “Where's your mama, Danny boy? Ain't she gonna come down and kiss you bye-bye?” Troy and Scotty howled with laugh-ter.
Brandon let his feet slide off the seat in front of him. They hit the floor with a thud. His dark blue eyes narrowed and he scowled. “Leave him alone, boneheads. Let him get in the van.”
“Aw come on, Brandon.” Scotty held his hands out. “We're just trying to have a little fun with the geek.”
“Later.” Brandon's face was seri-ous.
“Whatever you say, O wise one.” Scotty moved out of the aisle to let Daniel pass. As Daniel took a step, Scotty stuck his foot out and tripped him. Daniel fell to his knees.
He jumped up with his fists clenched. “Try that again, lard bucket.”
“Not in my van.” The driver growled as he pulled the sliding door shut. “You peacocks can fight all you want after you get there. For now find a seat and sit in it. Don't even think about getting out of it before we get to the camp.” Climbing in behind the wheel, the driver turned toward them. “I also don't want no music, loud talking, or snoring.” He mumbled something under his breath about spoiled rich kids and started the engine.
Daniel moved to the last seat at the back of the van. He propped himself in the corner and pretended to go to sleep,
Scotty sat down in the seat in front of Daniel and whispered, “I wouldn't sleep too soundly, Danny boy. You never know when the boogey man might get ya.”
Troy and Brandon spun around in their seats two rows ahead. Troy laughed. “Watch it, Scotty, you're scaring him. We may have to stop and get his teddy bear out of his suitcase,”
Brandon rubbed his eyes and took a pack of cards out of his back pocket. “Why don't you idi-ots grow up?”
Scotty leaned back over the seat. Daniel could feel the boy's hot breath on his face. “You're gonna love camp, Danny boy. I'm gonna see to it personally.”
CHAPTER 2
The storm was steadily growing worse. Giant drops of rain pounded the van with a vengeance. The driving wind buffeted the van and made it hard to stay on the road.
Daniel stared anxiously out the window. They had been driving in the mountains for several hours. He looked at his watch. They should have been there by now.
He glanced at the three boys laughing and playing cards in the mid-dle of the van. They were acting as if they didn't have a worry in the world.
The driver was a different story. Beads of sweat dripped off his forehead. His knuckles were white from clutching the steering wheel so hard. Daniel could tell that the man could barely see the road, and more often than not the van veered over onto the shoulder.
Abruptly the van left the pavement and began traveling on a dirt road. Daniel looked at his watch again. They hadn't passed a car in more than an hour. He considered asking the driver if they were lost, then decided against it. If they were, there wasn't anything Daniel could do about it anyway.
From the hollow sound the van made as it passed over the wooden planks, Daniel could tell they were on some sort of bridge.
The driver scratched his head and muttered under his breath. “Don't remember no bridge out here. Musta made a wrong—”
Suddenly it felt as if they were flying. The plank noise was gone and the van soared effortlessly through the air.
When it hit the water, it hit hard. The boys were thrown against the walls like rag dolls
. The van was instantly sucked into the raging current and dragged downstream.
The driver was hanging limply over the steering wheel. Blood trick-led from the corner of his mouth. Outside, the rain still hammered down. The heavy front end of the van was completely submerged, and only the back stuck out of the water as the churning river drove it down the treacherous canyon.
Daniel opened his eyes and shook his head. It felt as if he'd been kicked by a mule. His forehead throbbed and he could feel a knot on it. He raised himself up and tried to see outside. The back end of the van was slowly sink-ing.
There was only one chance. Crawling to the back door, he unlocked it and pushed it open. The rain pelted him and the wind forced him back. He braced him-self and shoved.
It was an immediate fight for his life. The angry water hurled him down the river as if his body were no more than a stick.
Daniel was a strong swimmer, but the swiftmoving current was too much for him. It was all he could do to keep his head above the surging water. A couple of times he thought he heard someone yelling. But for now he had his own problems. The river was freezing cold, and it offered no way out.
CHAPTER 3
Branches clawed at his face and clothes. He reached up and locked his right arm around one. The current yanked his legs underneath the tree. Daniel held on. With what little strength he could muster, he inched his way up the tree trunk to the bank.
The rain had turned to drizzle. Daniel lay on the bank exhausted. It was getting late, and he was chilled to the bone. He didn't know how long he'd lain there before he finally opened his eyes. More than anything he would have liked to stay there and rest, but a nagging voice inside his head was telling him he had to keep moving. It was cold and there was a risk of hypo-thermia.
Daniel pulled himself into a sitting position and surveyed his sur-roundings. In front of him was the river. It was dangerously high, with no apparent way back across. Behind him and up the short canyon bank was forest as far as the eye could see.
The rain had soaked almost everything in sight. Building a fire to dry out would be quite a trick, even using everything Uncle Smitty had taught him. Daniel moved up the mountain a few yards away from the river. Sitting under an ever-green, he dug through the wet, dead leaves until he found some dry needles and a couple of dead branches.
He carried them up the hill and sat down under a large tree that had branches thick enough to protect his precious tinder from the drizzle. Reaching into his pocket, he drew out a pocketknife and cut away the outer bark of the dead branches until he had completely dry wood. With his hands he dug until he had a fire pit. He arranged the dead leaves and needles in a teepee shape.
Daniel took a deep breath. So far so good.
Going back to the bank, he walked up and down until he found a good-sized piece of chert, a shiny black rock. He scooped it up and ran back to his camp-site.
Holding the rock near the dead needles and wood shavings, he struck it with the back of his knife blade. Sparks flew, but nothing caught.
Seven times he tried before a tiny spark ignited the end of a dead needle. Daniel blew gently until there was a small blaze. Then he added more wood shav-ings and finally a branch.
He left the fire to search for more wood. When he had enough to keep the fire going for a while, he took off his shoes and socks and put them close to the flames to dry.
He leaned back against the mountainside with his toes toasting near the fire. Its warmth felt good. He was almost asleep when he heard it.
Yelling.
He sat up on one elbow. Before, he had been so worried about him-self that he had completely forgotten about the rest of the van's passen-gers.
The thought of going out in the rain again made Daniel shudder. But he knew it was the right thing to do. He built up his fire, then slipped on his damp socks and shoes and stepped out from under the protection of his tree.
The yelling was coming from downriver. The van must have passed him while he was lying on the bank. He ducked his head and trotted to keep from getting chilled again.
About fifty yards downriver he found them. The current had slowed and lodged the van on some boulders near the middle of the river. Only a small piece of the van's white top showed above the water.
Scotty was lying half out of the water, coughing and vomiting on the rocky bank. Brandon was frantically swimming around the van, trying to get a door open.
When Scotty saw Daniel, he pointed at the van. “Troy! He's still in there!”
Daniel didn't hesitate. He kicked off his shoes and jumped into the water. When he got to the van, Brandon screamed, “Troy's hurt but he's still alive! The door's stuck and I can't get him out!”
Daniel dove under the water. He tried to pull the back door open, but it was wedged tight against a rock. He quickly swam to the side door and rammed his shoulder into it. It moved, but not enough.
Daniel held on to the mirror and kicked the door. It popped open. He went to the surface for a quick gulp of fresh air and then dove back down.
Inside the van he saw the driver still hanging lifelessly over the steering wheel. Daniel searched for Troy and found him floating at the top of the water near the back of the van.
Daniel's lungs felt as if they were about to burst. He grabbed Troy under the arms and worked his way out the door. Holding on to Troy with one hand, he fought his way to the surface.
“He's not breathing,” Daniel said be-tween gasps. “Hell need raouth-to-mouth. Help me get him to shore.”
CHAPTER 4
Daniel built the fire up until he had a roaring blaze. He had put Troy as close to the fire as he dared, hoping it might help to bring him around.
Troy was breathing, but he was still unconscious. His skin was light blue, and he was shivering. Daniel rubbed Troy's hands and arms. He turned to Brandon. “Dig down under that tree over there and bring me all the dry leaves, moss, or grass you can find. And hurry.”
Brandon didn't question him. In a few minutes he returned with an armful of dry leaves and grass. Daniel began stuff-ing them inside Troy's clothing and packing them around him. “It'll help insulate him from the cold.”
Daniel continued to rub Troy's feet and legs. When Troy's socks were dry Daniel put them back on him. He felt Troy's forehead. It was hot.
Scotty looked a little better and was now resting against the huge tree watching Troy anxiously. “Is he gonna die?”
Daniel didn't look up.
“Is there anything I can do?” Brandon asked.
“You can get us a supply of wood. The main thing is to keep him as warm and dry as possible.”
''I can help.” Scotty started to stand.
“You take it easy.” Brandon pushed him back down. “I'll get it.”
Scotty watched Daniel work. “How do you know all this stuff? I mean I've seen you in class. You're no Ein-stein.”
Daniel shrugged. “Most of what I'm doing is just common sense. Besides, Brandon's the one who did the mouth-to-mouth.”
Troy moaned softly. His eyes opened. “Where …”
Scotty moved to him. “It's okay. There was an accident. The van fell in the river. Danny boy here pulled you out.”
Troy looked over at Daniel. His mouth turned up in a feeble grin. “Thanks.”
“I was in the neighborhood.”
Brandon came back with an armload of wood. “Hey. Nice to see you in the land of the living again. I thought there for a minute you were gonna check out on us.”
Troy coughed. “Me too.”
Daniel shook out his handkerchief and headed for the river.
“Wait up.” Brandon jogged up to him. “Where you going?”
“Troy's still not out of danger. He needs hot liq-uids.” Daniel dipped his handkerchief in the water until it was dripping wet and quickly ran back to the fire. He held it over the flames until it was warm.
Daniel told Troy to open his mouth, and he let the warm water drip in until he had squeezed the handkerchief dry.
Then Daniel stood up to repeat the process.
Brandon took the handkerchief. “I'll do it this time.”
The two boys took turns until Daniel was satisfied that they had done all they could. He felt Troy's forehead again. It wasn't quite as hot.
Daylight gave way to darkness, and the only light came from the fire. The rain started up again, but the boys were fairly well protected under the branches of the big tree.
Scotty and Troy were sleeping soundly. Daniel added a good-sized stump to the fire so that it would burn all night, then cleared a place to stretch out.
Brandon threw a handful of pine needles into the fire. “You're okay, you know.”
An awkward silence filled the night. Daniel stared into the flames. “Most people are—if you give them half a chance.”
CHAPTER 5
Brandon sleepily yawned and opened his eyes. It was midafternoon and the sun beat down on him. He sat up and stretched. A small fire was still burning, A large rock with a hollowed-out center sat near the edge of it. Something liquid was boil-ing in it. To the side of the fire was a generous pile of pinecones.
Scotty and Troy were still asleep. Daniel was nowhere in sight, Brandon shook Scotty's ankle. Scotty turned over and opened one eye. “What?” “Wake up. It's the middle of the day.”
Scotty rubbed his eyes and sniffed the air. “I'm starved. What's cooking?”
Brandon shrugged. “I don't know. Daniel must have left it. Looks like water with chopped-up pine needles in it.”
“It's tea.” Daniel stepped out from be-hind a tree. The front of his T-shirt was filled with round green berries.
He dumped the berries on a grassy spot. “It's made from pine needles. Has more vitamin C than orange juice.” Using his handkerchief, he tipped the rock and let some of the liquid run into a piece of bark he had carved out with his knife. He held it out to Scotty. “Try some.”
Scotty took the bark. “I'm game.” He sipped the hot liquid. “Not bad.”
Brandon picked up one of the pinecones and tossed it into the air. “What are we gonna do with these? Have a war later?”
