by Gary Paulsen
Calvin yelled and held his eye. “She hit me!”
Bobbie rode up with Wolf by her side. The big dog snarled menacingly. “What do you think, Alex? Is it suppertime for Wolf?”
The boys froze as the dog neared them. Alex looked up. Bobbie was sitting on Sonny, laughing. She struggled to her feet, threw her hair back, and glared at Bobbie. “It took you long enough.”
Bobbie smiled. “Yeah, I thought I better bust this up before one of these poor boys got hurt.” She turned to the Bledsoes. “Seems we have a small case of cattle rustling going on here.” She rubbed her chin. “If I remember right, that’s still a hanging offense.”
“Want me to get a rope?” Alex asked.
Jesse shook his head nervously. “We were just having a good time with you, Bobbie. You know that. Shoot—we ain’t no rustlers.”
“Maybe we’ll just let the sheriff decide about that, Jesse. Although it looks like a pretty clear-cut case to me.”
Calvin looked worried. “Our dad will kill us if you call the law. He’s running for county commissioner next month.”
Alex moved beside Bobbie. “Maybe you clowns should have thought about that before you stole our cows.”
“Our cows?” Jesse looked confused. “Who are you, anyway?”
Bobbie laughed. “Boys, I’d like you to meet another Walker. And in case you haven’t figured it out yet—messing with her was probably the biggest mistake of your lives.”
CHAPTER 13
Bobbie crawled out of her bedroll the next morning to see Alex already saddling the horses.
“Too bad we lost Diablo,” Alex said.
Bobbie shrugged. “There’s always next year.”
“Maybe we should stay up here a few more days and look for him.”
“Naw. We better get these cows on home. Grandpa will start to get worried if we stay up here too long. And besides, we probably need to let somebody know about them.” Bobbie pointed to a big pine tree. On either side was a Bledsoe, still dressed in his long underwear and tied securely to the trunk.
Jesse strained against the ropes. “You can’t leave us here, Walker. There are bears up here.”
“Don’t worry,” Alex yelled, “one sniff of you and they’ll run the other way.” She leaned close to Bobbie. “What are you really going to do with those two?”
“I figured we’d start the cows down the trail a ways and then I’d come back and untie them later.”
Alex looked over at the boys. “Sure you don’t want to go ahead and hang them?”
“It’s tempting, but I guess I’ll pass.”
Alex pulled the barbed-wire gate open and the cows started filtering out. She stepped up onto her horse and began working to keep them bunched.
Bobbie watched her as she cut left to keep one of the calves from turning back. “Say, Alex, I was just wondering …”
Alex trotted closer. “What was that? I didn’t hear you.”
“I said I was just wondering about something.”
“What?”
Bobbie cleared her throat and her mouth started twitching. “I was just thinking that if you weren’t doing anything next spring …”
Alex’s face broke into a grin.
CHAPTER 14
Bobbie leaned down from the saddle and pulled the mailbox open. She took out a handful of letters and shut the box. One was postmarked Los Angeles. She ripped it open.
Dear Bobbie,
Just a line to let you know I made it home okay. I told my friends all about you and we’re agreed. You should break one less colt this summer and come out for a visit. I told them it wasn’t your fault that you were a just a hick from the country and made them promise not to be too rough on you.
Of course you realize it might not be as exciting as watching flies on manure or going to a movie on Saturday night, but we’ll see what we can do.
Seriously, I would like to see an old cowpoke like you try to stand up in a pair of Rollerblades. So let me know.
Alex P.S.
By the way, what does “hook ’em, snotty” mean anyway?
Bobbie folded the letter and stuffed it inside her shirt pocket. “Shoot, Sonny,” she said, “everybody knows that’s what you yell to a rider before he mounts a bull.” She smiled, remembering the sight of Alex on Diablo’s back. “So what do you think, Sonny? Want to go to California and hang out?”
The big horse shook a fly off his neck.
“I know what you mean.” Bobbie moved him into a slow lope. “On the other hand, maybe you and I should go on out there. We’d show those city slickers a thing or two for sure.”
A horse is a large, strong, and beautiful animal. But remember, a horse is not a plaything, and it can hurt you. Always stay by the front half of a horse’s body, even when grooming or mounting. Never make any sudden movements. Horses scare easily.
Equipment is very important to riding. Your saddle should not only fit you comfortably, it should also fit your horse, leaving it free from gall, or rub marks. A bit should suit your skill and your horse’s mouth. Reins should be made of a material you feel comfortable handling.
Gather your reins in one hand. Leave enough slack so that you are not bearing down hard on the horse’s mouth. To go forward, gently nudge the horse with the heels of your boots. To back up, pull the reins evenly straight back toward the saddle horn. To turn right or left, simply pull the reins in the direction you want to go. Make sure you are sitting up straight. Your heels should be down.
If you are an inexperienced rider, practice riding your horse at a walk in an enclosed area. Later you can move up to a faster gait. When you are finished with your ride, be sure to give the horse a good rubdown.
Roping is a challenging test of technique and accuracy. There are more than a hundred different brands and styles of ropes. Beginners should choose an inexpensive nylon rope. Shake the rope out in the store and see how the loop hangs. If it’s lopsided, don’t buy it.
Start by practicing roping on the ground. If you’re lucky enough to have a plastic steer or calf head that you can stick in a bale of hay to use as a target, great. If not, you may have to choose something different. Fence posts or bicycle handlebars work just fine. (Little brothers and sisters do not!)
Coil your rope from the straight end. If you are righthanded, hold the end with the loop in that hand, with your index finger pointed. Let the coils rest loosely in your left hand. (If you are left-handed, do the opposite.) Shake your loop out a little larger than your coils.
Twirl your loop over your head in a flat, circular motion. Point your index finger at the target and throw the loop as if you were throwing a rock. The coils should slide through your left hand. When the loop settles around the target, pull out the slack.
One important reminder: Horses can be dangerous. Do not attempt to rope from horseback unless both you and the horse are experienced.
Danger on Midnight River
CHAPTER 1
Daniel Martin took one last look around his bedroom. It was pointless 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 working. 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 year
s 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 between 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 nobody. 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 know it? 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 telling 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.
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 friends 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 laughter.
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 serious.
“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 idiots 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 middle 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 trickled 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 sinking.
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 himself 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 swift-moving 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 hypothermia.
Daniel pulled himself into a sitting position and surveyed his surroundings. 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 a
way from the river. Sitting under an evergreen, 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 campsite.
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 shavings 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 himself that he had completely forgotten about the rest of the van’s passengers.
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.
