by Helen Moss
But what could we do? I stared at Maia, frantically trying to think of something. As she danced and pranced in the firelight, so did her long, flickering shadow on the buffalo-skin wall of the tent behind her. That’s what gave me my idea. I whispered the plan to Seaman. He agreed. I quickly dragged a branch from the stack of firewood and dropped it at York’s feet. It took a while, but at last he understood. He climbed up on the branch.
Seaman reared up on his back legs beside him.
“Help!” bellowed York. “It’s a bear!”
Seaman roared and swiped at him with a massive paw.
On the wall, a shadow-puppet bear attacked a shadow-puppet man in a shadow-puppet tree.
“Help!” cried York once more.
I barked and ran at Seaman, pulling him away by his long, shaggy tail.
“It’s Hero to the rescue!” York cried.
All the men cheered as they watched our shadows acting out the grizzly bear attack. Some of them picked up the guns they’d been fighting with and used their shadows to pretend to shoot the bear. Every time they shouted, “Bang!” Seaman pretended to be hit. He staggered about until, at last, he rolled over, playing dead.
The men shouted for more. We must have performed that play a hundred times! But the distraction had finally worked. They’d forgotten all about the fight.
* * *
“Good job today, Maia,” I said, as we curled up by the embers of the fire. “Your dance routine kept the humans out of trouble.”
“How about your routine, Captain Hero?” said Titch. “That bear act was a stroke of genius. Totally nuts, but genius all the same!”
“It was fun,” said Maia. Then she sighed. “I miss my dance classes with Ayesha … Let’s go home tomorrow, Trevor.”
I glanced at Seaman, who was already snoring. He’d been telling me all day that his back leg was still weak. I had suspected he was faking it a little, because he wanted us to stay longer. After his showstopping performance as the Ferocious Bear, I was now certain; there was nothing wrong with his legs!
First thing next morning, I called the pack together to leave.
Newton, Baxter, and Titch gathered around.
But Maia was nowhere to be seen.
16
VANISHED
We searched every corner of the camp.
Maia wasn’t in any of the tents. She wasn’t in any of the boats.
She hadn’t gone with Sacagawea to collect firewood.
She wasn’t under the pine trees, where Larocque and his men had tied up their horses. They had left before first light. All that remained were clumps of soft green horse dung.
We howled Maia’s name until the men yelled at us to stop. My heart was turning inside out. Had she been taken by a wolf or a coyote? Had she fallen into the river? Maia wasn’t just a member of my pack. She was my oldest friend. I’d known her since we were tiny puppies, long before we started going to Happy Paws Farm and met Baxter and Newton.
And now she had vanished.
Seaman ran out from Captain Lewis’s tent. “I know what happened. I just heard the men talking. From what I can make out, Captain Clark has given Maia to Larocque as a gift to make up for all the trouble last night.”
“He can’t do that!” I gulped. “Maia’s not a bunch of flowers! She’s not his to give!”
Seaman sighed. “I know. But I guess Clark thought she was a wild dog. Like Fang and her pack. He didn’t know you pups belong with the Fly-Ing-Van nation.”
“Maia? Wild?” Titch snorted so hard she almost choked. “Since when do wild dogs wear silly little collars with pink sequins?”
“Maybe Captain Clark didn’t notice her collar,” Newton pointed out. “It kind of blends in with all those beads and feathers in her fur.”
“But why would Larocque want Maia anyway?” whimpered Baxter. “I know she’s smart, but she hates hunting and she’s not much of a tracker…”
“Larocque doesn’t want her for himself,” said Seaman. “He’s taking her back to the city. He has a lady friend who trains a troupe of dogs to dance and do tricks. He thinks Maia could be famous … the star of the show.”
“Being made to prance about onstage like a circus poodle!” I spluttered.
“Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls! It’s Princess Fluffybutt, the Perfect Performing Papillon!” barked Titch in a dramatic voice. “What’s the problem? Maia loves showing off. She’ll have a ball.”
“All alone?” I shouted. “In a city far away? Without her human? Without us?” I didn’t wait to hear any more. I was already racing back to the pine trees where Larocque’s horses had been tied up. I had to find Maia and bring her back.
I was in such a hurry I forgot to give the command for the pack to follow.
Luckily, I didn’t need to.
Newton, Baxter, Seaman—and even Titch—were right behind me.
17
BRAINSTORM
Larocque’s group had not been gone long. Their scent was fresh and strong: the grass, sweat, and dust of the horses; the gun- powder, whiskey, and smoke of the men; and the half-digested-fish-gut stink of the wild dogs tagging along behind them. Even a human could have followed that trail!
“This way!” I shouted.
We ran and ran; through long, swaying grass and rustling pine woods and patches where wildfires had burned the land to thick black dust. The sun beat down on our backs. Prickly pear spines stabbed our paws. Mosquitoes buzzed in our ears. Half swimming, half wading, we crossed a stream and came at last to the end of the trail.
At the top of the steep bank were the remains of a campfire. The horses stood nearby, heads down, munching at the grass.
But there was no sign of the men or the dogs.
There was no sign of Maia.
I heard a bark. At least, I thought I did. It was so soft it could have been a mouse squeak. My ears quivered as I strained to hear over the chirping of crickets and warbling of birds. Yes! There it was again. Faint, feeble, but definitely a bark! My heart leaping, I spun around and homed in on the sound. There, under a cottonwood tree, hidden by the long grass, I found her. A metal chain had been knotted around her collar. The other end was looped over a branch, high up in the tree.
“Maia!” I cried. “Are you hurt?”
“Trevor!” she croaked, struggling to her paws. “I’m not hurt. But I’ve been shouting for help so long I almost lost my voice.”
The others raced to my side. “Maia! Thank goodness you’re safe,” gasped Newton. Baxter leaped on her and gave her a big slobbery lick to the ear.
Even Titch looked happy to see Maia. Not for long! “What happened to Fearsome Fang and her gang?” she grumbled. “Why didn’t they help you?”
“They disappeared before we crossed the stream,” said Maia. “I guess they got bored of following the humans and went off hunting.”
Suddenly Newton’s ears pricked up. “Shhh! What’s that?”
Everyone listened. Sounds of human voices and splashing water were drifting on the breeze from somewhere near the stream.
Seaman sniffed the air. “I reckon they’ve found themselves a hot spring.”
We all looked at one another. We knew we had to rescue Maia before the men came back. Then we looked at the metal chain. We also knew it wouldn’t be easy.
Maia peered up through the leaves. “If only I could reach that branch, I could unhook the chain.”
Newton frowned, head tipped to one side. “We could build a tower for you to climb,” he said. “If we stack up some rocks…”
I know Newton is the brains of the pack, but it seemed like a crazy idea to me. But Baxter was already tearing around, looking for rocks. He always listens to Newton. If Newton’s next brainstorm was to build a tower of flowers to reach the moon, Baxter would run off in search of daisies. Suddenly all my worrying about Maia turned to anger. “How did you let yourself be given away as a gift?” I snapped. “What kind of nincompoop does that?”
Maia hung her head. �
��Captain Clark and Larocque were being so nice about my dancing. I thought they were going to give me a prize or something. Next thing I knew, Larocque had bundled me into a basket and slung me onto the back of his horse. I’m sorry…”
I felt bad for being so mean. “No, I’m sorry. It wasn’t your fault…”
Thud, thud, thud!
Titch had started butting her head against the cottonwood tree.
“What the blazes are you doing?” asked Seaman, who was helping Baxter and Newton stack up the rocks.
“Knocking down the tree, of course,” Titch said between thuds. “Brainbox Newton is overthinking the problem as usual. That tower plan is way too slow.”
Titch was right. The men could return at any moment. The tower of rocks was still nowhere near the branch. But the knock-the-tree-down plan was no better. The trunk was even more solid than Titch’s head. I ran in frantic circles, trying to figure it out. Stay calm, I told myself. Assess the situation. There has to be a way! If Maia was tied with a rope, I could bite through it. But even terrier teeth are no match for a metal chain. And the chain was tied so tightly to Maia’s collar. No dog could untie that knot …
Maia’s collar! That was it.
Suddenly I knew what to do.
18
TEAMWORK
I couldn’t bite through the metal chain, but I could bite through a little pink collar.
I grabbed it in my teeth and tried to rip it apart. But sequins are surprisingly tough.
“I’ll help!” cried Baxter. “I can chew through anything.”
Together we gnawed at the collar like starving coyotes. Suddenly it gave way. We fell back, knocking over the tower of rocks. Maia sprang free, shaking the torn collar from her neck.
I spat out a sequin.
Seaman and Titch cheered.
Newton looked at the half-made tower and smiled. “Just this once, I reckon that’s a win for teeth over brains.”
Maia laughed and nudged my nose with hers. “Thank you…”
Suddenly she fell silent. We all heard it at the same time. Voices, footsteps … “Doggone it!” muttered Seaman. We’d been working so hard to free Maia that we hadn’t heard the humans until they were almost upon us.
“Retreat!” I yelled.
Larocque and his men chased after us. Newton and Baxter were fast enough to get away. Seaman and Maia and I could probably have made it, too. But Titch was slower. She has a leg missing, after all, and she was still dizzy from head-butting the tree. I glanced back over my shoulder. The men were throwing stones. One hit Titch’s tail. Another missed her head by a whisker. Never Leave a Dog Behind. I had to go back for her.
But as I turned, Titch stopped running. She swung around, lowered her head, and charged at the humans.
“Titch!” yelled Seaman. “Come back! You’ll get yourself killed.”
I could hardly bear to watch. But at the last moment, Titch swerved.
It wasn’t the men she was charging at.
It was the horses!
The terrified animals reared up, squealing and pawing at the sky, and pulling the bush they were tied to straight out of the ground. Then they bolted, mud flying from their hooves. The men raced after them. All but one. He turned back, raising his gun.
“Look out, Titch!” I cried. But she was whooping in victory so loud she didn’t hear me.
I closed my eyes, braced for the crack of the gun. But when the noise came, it wasn’t a gunshot. It was an explosion of yipping and snarling. The wild dogs flew out from the bushes and knocked the man off his feet. The gun fell from his hands into the long grass. “Run for it!” howled Fang. “I told you humans were trouble!”
I took a last look back. The man was sitting up, trying to figure out what just hit him. The wild dogs had already slipped away into the undergrowth. “Thank you!” I shouted. And then, “Hurry up, Titch!”
We didn’t stop running until we were on the bank of the Missouri. We waded into the water to drink and cool down. Titch nudged my side. “So, Captain Hero. How was that for a distraction? Horses love a drama. You can always rely on them to overreact.”
“You were awesome,” said Baxter.
“And so was Fang,” said Maia, her voice still croaky.
Titch shrugged. “I guess she helped a little. But I had it covered.”
“Of course you did!” said Newton, laughing.
I nudged Titch back. “Good job, Titch. Great teamwork.”
I laughed, too. I never thought I would say the words Titch and teamwork in the same breath.
19
THE PARTING OF WAYS
It was time to say goodbye. Seaman was heading back upriver to the Lewis and Clark camp. We were continuing down-river to the van—and home.
I was sad to leave. York was a good man. Hunting with him had been fun. But I was happy, too. I belong with Old Jim. I knew that Newton and Maia and Baxter felt the same way. They longed to be home, but they would miss Sacagawea and the baby and Captains Lewis and Clark.
I thought Titch might decide to stick around with Seaman. She had no human family to miss. “Fearsome Fang was right about one thing,” she said. “Humans are trouble.” But Titch was missing tacos and hot sauce and tuna cat food. “Even buffalo meat gets boring after a while,” she said. “So long, Duckzilla,” she called after Seaman. “It’s been a blast.”
“Goodbye, Titch. I hope we meet again soon to swap more stories.” Seaman smiled and shook his head. “Although I can’t figure out how you’ve had so many doggone adventures when you’re still just a pup.”
Titch grinned. “That, my woolly friend, really is magic!”
* * *
Two days’ walk brought us back to the van. It still looked like a willow tree. A pair of crows were bickering in its branches. But there was no mistaking that scent. Metal. Rubber. Gasoline. Roads.
Baxter spotted his tennis ball floating among the reeds and jumped in to fetch it.
I pressed my nose against the tree. Pop! It turned into the van again.
I took a last look across the Missouri River. The sun was setting behind the mountains. The plains glowed in the fiery light. A flock of geese flew low over the water. I was going to miss this place.
Inside the van, Newton hopped up into the driver’s seat and stared down at the control panel. The lights still made the pattern:
1 8 0 5
Maia closed the back doors and settled down on the bed to nibble the beads and shells out of her fur.
I gave the command. “Take us home, Newton!”
Newton poked at the control panel. Nothing happened.
Baxter peered over Newton’s shoulder, dripping muddy water from the tennis ball.
The lights flashed.
The van rumbled and shook and rose into the air.
20
ALL CLEAR
Clatter, thud, scrape. It was another bumpy landing.
We jumped out of the van. We were back in the barn at Happy Paws Farm. It was just as we left it. Inventions hanging on the racks. Pigeons roosting on the rafters.
I peeped out the barn door. The yard was empty. Rain splashed into puddles. I gave the all-clear signal and we ran to the house. Rather slowly. We were old again, and the spring had gone out of our legs.
Titch shambled off down the road in search of garbage cans and bowls of cat food. “So long, old-timers,” she called. “Until the next road trip!”
“What’s that she said?” Newton rubbed his ear with his paw. “Doggone hearing’s gone again,” he grumbled. He sounded just like Seaman!
We followed Baxter through the dog flap and curled up by the fire.
I woke to a familiar smell. Newspapers. Hard candies. Soap.
There was a familiar sound, too; the tap, tap, tap of a walking stick. My ears pricked up. A man’s voice was calling, “Trevor!” At first, I didn’t answer. I’d gotten so used to being Hero, I almost forgot that meant me!
Old Jim! I ran to meet him. I leaped at his legs, waggi
ng my tail like crazy. “Don’t worry, Jim!” I barked. “I’m back on duty now. Anything to report while I was away?”
Old Jim laughed and rubbed my ears, just the way he always does. He said something to Baxter’s human, Lucy, who was with him. “I’ve only been gone a couple of hours! You’d think Trevor hadn’t seen me for days!” He picked a prickly pear spine out of my fur and gave me a puzzled look.
Lucy looked up from hugging Baxter. Her hands were streaked with mud from his fur. Then she petted Maia and frowned. She’d clearly noticed that the pink sequined collar was missing. She picked a stray bead from Maia’s fur. “I don’t understand. They’ve just been snoozing by the fire all afternoon.”
Old Jim nodded slowly. He bent down and patted Newton. Grass seeds scattered from his fur. Old Jim looked back at me and then at Lucy. “Do you ever wonder what these old dogs get up to when we’re not looking?”
The only one of their words I understood was dogs.
But I could tell Old Jim was happy, so I jumped up and licked his nose to tell him I was happy, too.
AUTHOR’S NOTE
Trevor, Baxter, Maia, Newton, and Titch are fictional characters. But the dogs they meet on their travels through time really existed. Their adventures together are inspired by actual events; events in which the real dogs played a crucial part.
Seaman, a large Newfoundland, accompanied Meriwether Lewis and William Clark and the Corps of Discovery on their expedition along the Missouri River and across the Rocky Mountains to the Pacific Ocean. This would be an important trading route for President Jefferson and the United States. They set out in May 1804 and reached the coast in November 1805.
