by Gary Paulsen
THE ANCIENT ONE
Two anxious yellow eyes searched back and forth continuously. The Ancient One was hungry all the time now. The food supply was dwindling, and anything large or small that dared disturb the calm waters was considered a meal.
It remembered a time when there was no need to hunt, no need to gobble down the small schools of fish near the shore, and no need to venture any farther than the mouth of the caves. But even as it remembered, its empty stomach yearned to be satisfied.
Wait. There was something. A tiny ratlike creature dangled in the water just above it.
The Ancient One rose to the top.
OTHER YEARLING BOOKS YOU WILL ENJOY:
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SHILOH, Phyllis Reynolds Naylor
MISSING MAY, Cynthia Rylant
THE SECRET FUNERAL OF SLIM JIM THE SNAKE,
Elvira Woodruff
AWFULLY SHORT FOR THE FOURTH GRADE,
Elvira Woodruff
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Elvira Woodruff
HOW TO EAT FRIED WORMS, Thomas Rockwell
HOW TO FIGHT A GIRL, Thomas Rockwell
BEETLES, LIGHTLY TOASTED, Phyllis Reynolds Naylor
YEARLING BOOKS are designed especially to entertain and enlighten young people. Patricia Reilly Giff, consultant to this series, received her bachelor’s degree from Marymount College and a master’s degree in history from St. John’s University. She holds a Professional Diploma in Reading and a Doctorate of Humane Letters from Hofstra University. She was a teacher and reading consultant for many years, and is the author of numerous books for young readers.
Published by
Bantam Doubleday Dell Books for Young Readers
a division of
Bantam Doubleday Dell Publishing Group, Inc.
1540 Broadway
New York, New York 10036
Copyright © 1997 by Gary Paulsen
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law.
The trademarks Yearling® and Dell® are registered in the U.S. Patent and Trademark Office and in other countries.
eISBN: 978-0-307-80405-1
Series design: Barbara Berger
Interior illustration by Michael David Biegel
v3.1
Contents
Cover
Other Yearling Books You Will Enjoy
Title Page
Copyright
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Dear Readers:
Real adventure is many things—it’s danger and daring and sometimes even a struggle for life or death. From competing in the Iditarod dogsled race across Alaska to sailing the Pacific Ocean, I’ve experienced some of this adventure myself. I try to capture this spirit in my stories, and each time I sit down to write, that challenge is a bit of an adventure in itself.
You’re all a part of this adventure as well. Over the years I’ve had the privilege of talking with many of you in schools, and this book is the result of hearing firsthand what you want to read about most—power-packed adventure and excitement.
You asked for it—so hang on tight while we jump into another thrilling story in my World of Adventure.
PROLOGUE
Two glowing yellow eyes stared up toward the light that filtered down through the darkness. They were unblinking, waiting patiently for the slightest disturbance in the water. The Ancient One didn’t like coming this close to the surface but a fierce, gnawing hunger was driving it. There were hardly any large fish left on the bottom near the caves, and it had been almost five days since the Ancient One had eaten.
The smooth water suddenly rocked with movement. Something large with four thrashing limbs, odd rubbery flippers, and a hard metal can on its back approached. The Ancient One had only seen this type of fish a few times over the years. But it remembered how they tasted and how good it felt to be full and satisfied.
The Ancient One moved carefully upward.
CHAPTER 1
“It’s nice here, don’t you think, Ryan?” The pretty blond woman’s tired blue eyes traveled from the road to the thin, dark-haired boy sitting in the passenger seat beside her.
Thirteen-year-old Ryan Swanner looked out the window. The Colorado mountains were okay, but they weren’t anything like the ones back home. Ryan had grown up in Louisiana, fishing on the swamps and bayous, and it had been hard to say goodbye to his friends there. But his mom was so excited about her new job that he didn’t have the heart to spoil things for her. So he’d kept his feelings to himself.
She was now the new manager of a restaurant called The Cove, which catered to tourists at the Black Water Lake Resort. It was a big break for her. Back home she had waitressed at truck stops and coffee shops. This job meant a lot more money.
Ryan collected his thoughts and turned back toward his mom. “Uh, yeah. Real nice. Lots of … trees and stuff. It’ll be great.”
The old car rumbled down the narrow gravel road and turned off onto a deeply rutted dirt lane. They stopped in front of a log cabin that was almost completely covered with vines.
“This is it, Ryan. What do you think?”
Ryan opened the car door and stepped out. In ways the scenery reminded him of the thick green foliage that had surrounded their house back home. But there was something different about the quiet and the crispness of the air here. He stepped up onto the wooden porch and was about to reach for the doorknob when a large woman wearing baggy jeans and a red flannel shirt stepped out of the cabin, shaking a dusty rug in his face.
“Oh my!” She drew back and tried to wave away the choking dust cloud. “I didn’t realize you were here. You must be the Swanners. You’re early. I’m Mrs. Brown from over the hill, your landlady.”
Ryan’s mother climbed the steps and extended her hand. “Nice to meet you in person, Mrs. Brown. I’m Cynthia Swanner and this is my son, Ryan.”
The woman surveyed him. “Rita has been looking forward to meeting you. Annie was hoping for a girl. But she’s only four so I’m sure she’ll make do.” Mrs. Brown smiled. “I’ll get out of your way now and let the two of you unpack and get settled. If you need anything, my house is the yellow one just over the hill behind you.” She gave a friendly wave and marched off into the woods.
They watched her leave and then Ryan’s mom pushed the cabin door open. “Mrs. Brown told me we’re not far from the lodge, and Black Water Lake is within walking distance.”
Water. That was one thing Ryan knew something about. Maybe it wouldn’t be so awful here after all.
The inside of the cabin was small but cozy. Cynthia Swanner stopped to smell the wildflowers that stood in a vase on the kitchen table. “It already feels like home.”
Ryan hadn’t seen his mom this happy in years—not since before the car accident that had taken his dad’s life. “I think it’s gonna be just fine, Mom. Just fine.”
CHAPTER 2
Ryan moved the branch of a pine tree and there it was—the lake. The water lay flat and shiny like a big black slab of onyx. This was the Black Water Lake the resort was named for. It was a large, kidney-shaped body of water as dark as its name. This end of the lake was some distance from th
e lodge, which was hidden from sight by hills and trees.
“Couldn’t get much better.” Ryan stepped out onto the sandy shore and skipped a rock across the lake’s smooth surface.
He dipped his hand in the water and found it a little colder than he’d expected. Still, a quick swim would be fun. He sat down and began pulling off his tennis shoes.
“Wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
Ryan spun around. Standing behind him was a tall redheaded girl with her arms folded.
“H-Hi,” Ryan began. “I was just—”
The girl pointed to a sign on the shore. “Can’t you read?”
Ryan hadn’t noticed the small weather-beaten sign:
CLOSED TO ALL SWIMMING AND DIVING UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE.
“I guess I missed that.”
The girl sat down beside Ryan in the dirt. “I’m Rita Brown. You’re living in our grandpa’s old cabin.”
Ryan relaxed and slipped his shoes back on. “I’m Ryan Swanner. I was just gonna see what the water was like. Do you swim?”
“Used to,” Rita said, “until that diver got himself drowned last week. They’re still looking for his body. Ma says the owners of the lodge won’t allow any swimming till they find him. She doesn’t believe there’s a monster, but my granddaddy did. He said he saw it once and told my ma all about it. It looks just like the Loch Ness Monster in Scotland, only bigger, and it waits out there for anybody stupid enough to go down too far.”
“Do you think there’s a monster?”
“Naw. It’s a story the locals made up years ago to draw tourists.” Rita tossed a stick into the water. “Some places have ghosts. Black Water has a monster.”
Ryan studied the lake with a frown. “If you don’t go out in the water, what do you do around here for fun?”
Rita jumped up. “Who says I don’t go out there? Come with me.”
Ryan followed Rita down the shore to a shallow inlet. Resting in a cluster of weeds was a beat-up rectangular wooden raft with a long rope anchoring it to a tree.
“We need to do some work on it before we can take it out again,” Rita said. “It leaks ’cause some of the boards are broken and loose. But when it works, the fishing’s better out from shore a ways.”
“Fishing?” Ryan raised one eyebrow. “What do you catch?”
“Everything. One time I caught a catfish that was so big, Ma had a hard time cooking it. Course that was a year or so ago. The big ones seem to have just about disappeared.”
Behind them something slapped the top of the lake hard. The sound echoed across the water.
“What was that?” Ryan turned and pointed to the disappearing ripples.
“It was probably one of those big catfish I was talking about.” Rita moved to the edge of the water. “We’ll catch him just as soon as we get this raft in shape.”
“Whatever it was, it sure left some big ripples in the water,” Ryan said. “They’re as big around as your grandfather’s cabin.”
Rita smiled at him. “Are you scared?” she asked teasingly.
Ryan looked her in the eye. “No way.”
Rita cocked her head. “Well, don’t let the ghost stories get to you. Tell you what. If you help me work on the raft, we’ll go out fishing on it. What do you say?”
“Let’s get started.”
THE ANCIENT ONE
Two anxious yellow eyes searched back and forth continuously. The Ancient One was hungry all the time now. The food supply was dwindling and anything large or small that dared disturb the calm waters was considered a meal.
It remembered a time when there was no need to hunt, no need to gobble down the small schools of fish near the shore, and no need to venture any farther than the mouth of the caves. But even as it remembered, its empty stomach yearned to be satisfied.
Wait. There was something. A tiny ratlike creature dangled in the water just above it.
The Ancient One rose to the top.
CHAPTER 3
“Remember to come down to the lodge for lunch. It’s only about a thirty-minute walk from here to the upper end of the lake. I’d like to show you off to the staff.” Ryan’s mother started the engine of the old car and waved as she pulled out of the drive.
Ryan waved back and then raced around the cabin and up the hill. On the other side of the hill was the large two-story yellow house where the Browns lived.
He trotted down the path and hopped up onto the porch. There was no doorbell so he knocked lightly and waited.
The door opened a few inches. A small, serious-looking little girl with short red hair stood there staring at him. “You’re the new boy.”
“Yeah, I guess I am. Is your sister home?”
“Who is it, Annie?” Rita came to the door. “Oh, hi, Ryan. Ready to work?”
“What exactly are you two going to do today?” Mrs. Brown put her hand on her daughter’s shoulder.
Ryan began, “We’re going down to the lake and fix—”
“Fish,” Rita interrupted. “We’re just going to fish and maybe do some other stuff.”
“Just make sure the other stuff doesn’t include swimming,” Mrs. Brown said. “I know there’s no monster in that lake, but I don’t want you going back in until they find that diver.”
“Right, Ma. Don’t worry about a thing.” Rita stepped out onto the porch and pulled the door shut. She motioned for Ryan to follow her around the back of the house.
“Whew. That was close.” Rita waited for Ryan to catch up. “I forgot to mention that Ma doesn’t know anything about the raft. I figured we were really doing her a favor by not telling her. You know, one less thing to worry about.”
“Got it.” Ryan followed Rita to an old shed behind the house.
Rita rummaged around on the dusty shelves until she found some rope, a couple of old oars, a can of black pitch, and several long flat boards. She handed Ryan some of the supplies and led the way down the path to the lake.
The raft was still in the weeds where they’d left it the day before. Together they hauled it up onto the shore.
“See, the middle boards are cracked and some of the rope is coming loose on that end.” Rita pointed to the right side. “I figure we’ll replace the boards, make sure it’s all good and tight, then use some of this pitch to coat the bottom. She’ll be unsinkable.”
Ryan knelt and began working the cracked boards loose. Rita took out her pocketknife and cut a piece off the long coil of rope.
When the first board was out, Rita handed Ryan a replacement and helped him secure it to the others. They checked each board carefully and inspected each piece of rope for tightness and signs of rotting or fraying.
It was almost noon before they started applying the pitch. Rita had brought only one brush so they took turns spreading the pitch on the bottom of the raft and then trying to smooth it across the boards.
The bushes near the path to the Browns’ house rustled and Annie stepped out. She walked up to the raft and looked it over. “You shouldn’t go out on the water. The thing will get you.”
Rita was stooped over holding the pitch brush. She wiped the sweat off her forehead. “Go away, Annie. We’re busy here.”
Annie stared out into the lake. “I’ve seen it. It ate my dog.”
“That’s nice. Now go play.”
“Ma has lunch ready. She says you guys better hurry or she’ll feed it to the pigs.” Annie turned and marched back into the trees.
Ryan watched her go. “What does she mean—she’s seen it?”
“Don’t pay any attention to Annie. She’s always saying stuff like that. One time she came down here by herself looking for her puppy. She never found it. So now she tells everybody that the monster jumped out of the water and dragged her dog in.” Rita shook her head and sighed. “Kids. So, do you want to come over for lunch?”
Ryan looked at his watch. “I can’t. My mom’s expecting me. How do I get to the lodge from here?”
“That way.” Rita pointed down the sh
ore. “Just follow the lake. You can’t get lost. Hey, if you’re not doing anything, come over later. We’ll get this finished up so we can take it out first thing tomorrow.”
“Okay—I’ll be back,” Ryan said, doing his best Schwarzenegger imitation.
Rita laughed and waved. “See ya, Arnold.”
CHAPTER 4
Ryan passed the dock and climbed the wooden steps to the restaurant. The Cove was made of hand-hewn logs and stone, like a giant cabin. It stood on the edge of the lake and the dark water reflected off the large plate glass windows in front.
Several guests were eating as Ryan made his way across the dining room. His mother was standing by a rock fireplace talking to one of the waiters when she noticed him.
“Hi, kiddo. Nice of you to make it.” She looked down at the toe of his shoe, which was covered with tar. “What in the world …?”
“It’s tar. Rita Brown was working on a project and I was helping her. I guess I kinda made a mess. I’ll see if I can get it off later.”
“Try paint thinner. And if that doesn’t work maybe kerosene.” A sandy-haired waiter stuck out his hand. “I’m Larry Carlson.”
“Larry is a college student,” Mrs. Swanner explained. “He works here part-time in the summer.”
Ryan shook Larry’s hand. “I didn’t know there was a college around here.”
The young man smiled. “There isn’t. I sort of migrate here from California every year. Some of the classes you have to take for marine biology can fry your brain if you’re not careful. I come down here to unwind more than anything else.”
“Larry, why don’t you find Ryan a nice out-of-the-way table, and I’ll go talk the cook into making him something to eat.”
“I’m in kind of a hurry, Mom. Rita and I are trying to get an old raft in shape to take fishing tomorrow.”
“Sounds like fun, but you have to eat. Hang on—I’ll wrap something up for you.” She headed for the kitchen.