The Pterodactyls growled and hissed at Spot, smashing into the tree over and over again. They knocked it back and forth, tossing Spot around inside. Arlo could hear them arguing over who would get to him first.
Arlo couldn’t take it. He raced down the steep slope, charging at the Pterodactyls. Surprising everyone—even himself—Arlo head-butted one of them right into the river!
“Well, look who got relevated,” Thunderclap mused. Arlo charged at them again. This time at full speed. Thunderclap flew toward Arlo and dodged just as he was about to hit him, causing Arlo to slip in the mud. Thunderclap laughed wickedly.
The Pterodactyls flew at Arlo, snapping at him and beating him with their wings. They worked together to lift him into the air. Trapped, Spot cried from the tree, pained at not being able to help his friend. Then Thunderclap left Arlo and headed straight for Spot.
“Spot!” Arlo called.
Thunderclap growled menacingly as he closed in on Spot.
Arlo sensed the ground tremble and looked upriver. He gasped. Something was coming toward them. Arlo tried to fight off the Pterodactyls but couldn’t manage to get away. They still had him off the ground.
Thunderclap growled as he clawed at Spot, forcing him to go deeper into the tree.
The Pterodactyls cackled, teasing and pulling Arlo in midair. Then Arlo noticed a nearby tree. Using all his strength, he whacked his tail into it, just like he had when herding the longhorns, and snapped the tree in half. The falling tree startled the Pterodactyls, and they lost their grip. They dropped Arlo, and the tree smashed right into them!
One of the other Pterodactyls growled angrily as it flew toward Arlo, ready to kill. Without missing a beat, Arlo uprooted another tree and launched it at the flying beast. The tree smacked right into the Pterodactyl and knocked it into the water.
Arlo looked over at Thunderclap, who was still attacking Spot. Arlo ran toward him, ready to fight. He roared so loudly that Thunderclap took one look at him, screamed, and flew off.
But there was no time to celebrate. All of a sudden, the ground beneath them shook. Arlo looked upriver again and could see the water crashing down the pass. A flash flood raged toward them.
The rapids began to push the tree where Spot was hiding farther into the water. Spot reached for Arlo. He tried with all his might but couldn’t get to him. Arlo ran upriver to Spot, toward the rushing flood! The storm blew hard against him, but he continued, fighting his way toward his friend.
As debris rushed by and the river raged, it knocked down trees in its path. “Spot!” called Arlo, trying to outpace the flood.
Spot was scared. He hunkered down into the tree for protection. Arlo leaped between Spot and the wall of debris to protect him.
BAM!
The debris smashed into Arlo midair, and he was knocked into the rapids.
Screaming, Arlo struggled to swim against the current. When he resurfaced, he searched frantically for Spot.
“Spot!” Arlo called, gasping for air. Finally, he saw him: Spot was unconscious, inside the dead tree. And the tree was sinking.
Arlo swam as fast as he could toward Spot, fighting the current and dodging flying debris along the way. The rushing sounds of a giant waterfall became louder and louder. Trees crashed and branches flew. Eventually Spot opened his eyes and saw Arlo swimming toward him.
A massive tree headed straight for Arlo with its spiky branches sticking out every which way. Arlo dove down, swimming beneath it. The sharp branches jutted out and scratched his skin, but he continued on. He needed to reach Spot. When Arlo came up for air, he was almost there. But the waterfall was approaching!
All of a sudden, Spot jumped out of the hollow tree. Arlo and Spot swam toward each other, trying to beat the rapids. Just as they found each other, Arlo curled around Spot, and they fell over the cliff and into the falls.
When they came up at the bottom, Arlo was holding Spot. He quickly got them both out of the water and checked to see if Spot was okay. Spot opened his eyes, and they looked at each other gratefully. Bruised and battered, they had made it. Exhausted, Arlo put his head down and breathed a deep sigh of relief.
The next morning brought clear skies and a renewed sense that everything was going to be okay. Spot rode on Arlo’s back, and Arlo walked confidently, feeling proud that they had made it through the terrible storm. “We’re home, Spot,” Arlo said, relieved.
“Arrooowah!”
They heard a distant howl and turned to see a human man up on a hill. Then a mother and two children appeared—it was a family. Arlo slowly moved toward them. The father came forward and Spot hopped off Arlo’s back to investigate.
The humans sniffed each other as Arlo watched. The father tousled Spot’s hair, and the rest of the family gathered affectionately around Spot.
Spot looked at Arlo and ran back toward him. He jumped up on Arlo’s back, ready to keep going. But Arlo lowered him down and gently slid him off. Spot didn’t understand. Then Arlo pushed him toward the family.
Spot still didn’t understand. He ran back to Arlo. But Arlo, again, pushed him to the family. Then he drew a circle in the ground around all of them, just like he had with the stick figures on the night they howled at the moon. Spot and Arlo locked eyes. Spot understood.
The friends had tears in their eyes as they hugged. They both knew this was good-bye.
Once they parted, Arlo watched as Spot trotted toward the family. The father stuck out his hand to Spot, and the boy grabbed it, walking beside him, as if they had always been together. As the family turned, Spot looked back at Arlo one last time, sending up a howl. Arlo knew things were as they should be, but he felt a tightness in his throat as he howled back. He couldn’t help but feel a little sad. He missed Spot already.
With a tear running down his cheek, Arlo stood and watched as his friend walked away.
The big, clear sky was bright blue as Arlo walked the last part of his journey alone. This time, he walked through the familiar mountain pass without fear. Regardless of whether the wilderness chose to hit him with another storm, he knew he would soon be home. He would make it.
Beyond the mountain pass, Arlo saw the farm. The fields were dying, and there were piles of harvest that had not yet been stored. Then he saw the silo: four stone footprints, high and proud.
In the distance, Momma, Buck, and Libby were working in the fields. Even from far away, Arlo could see that they were tired. He started to walk a little faster.
Momma paused from her work and saw a strong, confident dinosaur walking toward the farm. “Henry?” she said, confused.
As Arlo stepped out into the light, Momma’s face lit up. “Arlo!” she shouted, running toward him. “ARLO!”
She hugged her son as Buck and Libby ran in from the fields. The family embraced, crying tears of joy. Arlo was finally home.
“Where have you been?” Momma cried. She took a step back and looked at her son in astonishment. She couldn’t believe her eyes.
As the sun set over the snowcapped peaks of Clawtooth Mountain, the family’s silo stood proudly in front of the farmhouse. A fifth stone with a mud footprint had been put up among the four others, making it complete. Arlo had earned his mark, and it was right beside Poppa’s. He had done something big for something bigger than himself. And he had made it home.
The Good Dinosaur Page 6