Three Adventure Tales

by Ruth Chew

  Many of the strangers fell to the ground. Some were killed. Others were badly hurt. Those who could still run went back to the canoe.

  The people in the sixth and last house had only just been awakened. They were not as well prepared as the others.

  The attackers did not manage to get into this house, either, but they were not badly hurt. When they saw their friends running back to the boat, they decided to follow them. Then one caught sight of Amanda and the boys hiding in the shadows. He made a signal.

  The children were grabbed by three strong men and dragged to the big canoe.

  The strange men threw Amanda and the boys into the canoe. They pushed it into deeper water, climbed in, and began to paddle.

  The children huddled together on the bottom of the boat. No one bothered with them. Many of the men were bleeding and crippled from the fighting. The others were paddling as hard as they could. There seemed to be a lot of people here, but Amanda couldn’t make out their faces in the dark. She looked over the side of the canoe. “We have to get out of here before we’re any farther away from shore. Jump, Fox-of-the-Water!”

  The Indian boy shook his head. “The land-otter people would own my soul forever!”

  Amanda could see there was no use arguing with him. She jabbed her elbow into her brother’s ribs and cocked her head toward the water. “Heave-ho, Will!” she whispered.

  Amanda grabbed Fox-of-the-Water by the shoulders and Will lifted his feet off the ground. Together they threw the young Indian overboard. Then they dived after him into the dark waters of the bay.

  The men in the boat heard the noise as the children hit the water. They saw that their captives were missing, but they went on paddling.

  Fox-of-the-Water landed with a splash. Then he sank. Amanda and Will dived down after their friend and pulled him to the surface.

  “Remember what we told you about treading water?” Amanda said. “That’s what I’m doing now.” She held his head above water.

  “If you get tired, roll over and swim on your back.” Will swam in a lazy circle around his sister and Fox-of-the-Water. “And don’t forget to kick like a frog.”

  Before long all three children were swimming toward shore. No lights were burning in the village houses to guide them. They swam in the other direction from the mountain in hopes of reaching their own beach.

  All three were very tired when at last they staggered out of the surf onto the sand.

  Amanda just wanted to curl up and go to sleep on the beach, but Fox-of-the-Water insisted that they had to run up and down the beach to warm up.

  They played a game of tag in the moonlight. Then they dug three holes in the sand above the high-water mark. The children lay down and covered themselves with sand to wait for morning. Long before the sun came up they were asleep.

  Amanda was the first to open her eyes. She sat up and stretched. Then she went to wake up the boys.

  All three of the children were hungry. The beach was covered with oysters. Neither Amanda nor Will had ever tasted them, but they had watched their father eat them on the half shell.

  Fox-of-the-Water told them he never got as many oysters as he wanted. All the other people in his uncle’s house liked them just as much as he did.

  He opened an oyster with his knife and smelled it. “Fresh!” The Indian boy held out the oyster. “You can have the first one, Mandy.”

  To her surprise, Amanda found that the oyster had a delicate, cool, salty taste. “Will, you don’t know what you’re missing!”

  They feasted on oysters for breakfast and finished the meal with wild strawberries that were growing at the edge of the wood.

  Fox-of-the-Water first looked at the mountain across the bay. Then he looked at the sun. He turned to the right and started walking along the beach.

  Will and Amanda hurried after him.

  They walked steadily for two hours. When they rounded a curve in the bay, they saw the village. The first house they came to was the one where they had been captured the night before.

  Fox-of-the-Water started to run. Amanda and Will were right behind him. They raced along the beach till they came to the totem pole with the eagle on top.

  All the people from the house were outdoors facing the water, but no one was singing.

  The Indian boy rushed to his mother. She bent down and hugged him. Her face was wet with tears.

  For a little while no one spoke. Then Mountain Echo said, “We were told that you were carried away in the enemy canoe.”

  “We were,” Will told him, “but we jumped out of the boat and swam ashore.”

  At this everybody seemed to step back, as if to move away from the children.

  Sunset Moon looked frightened. She hugged her son tighter.

  Fox-of-the-Water looked at his mother. Then he fainted. Sunset Moon laid him gently on the sand.

  “Isn’t anybody going to do anything for him?” Amanda cried.

  “The only one who could do anything would be the saya-gay,” Brave Warrior told her. “We haven’t seen Bright Star today. He may be dead.”

  “I’m going to get him.” Amanda turned to run.

  “Take care, Mandy,” Brave Warrior warned. “The spirit of a saya-gay is an evil thing!”

  Amanda started to run toward the little house of the saya-gay.

  “Wait for me, Mandy.” Will came after her.

  The mat was hanging over the doorway again. Will and Amanda could hear the same scraping sound Amanda had heard before. She called, “Bright Star, come quickly before Fox-of-the-Water dies!”

  The noise stopped. “What’s wrong with the boy?” the saya-gay asked from the other side of the mat.

  “The land-otter spirits have taken his soul,” Will said. “It’s our fault. We threw him out of the enemy canoe into the water last night!”

  Bright Star lifted the mat and came out. “I didn’t know there had been a raid!” he said. “I’ve been working day and night to polish that rock you gave me.

  “Will, I’ll need you to help me set up these.” He dragged some carved and painted cedarwood planks from behind his house. Mandy, go back and tell Mountain Echo and Brave Warrior to bring Fox-of-the-Water here at once. Hurry!”

  Amanda ran back with the message.

  Fox-of-the-Water was awake now. He seemed to know what was going on, but he couldn’t speak.

  Amanda held the Indian boy’s hand and led him to the saya-gay’s house. His mother and father and uncle followed them. All the other people who lived in Mountain Echo’s house came after.

  Bright Star made Amanda and Will sit beside Fox-of-the-Water on the platform in front of his house. He told them to be very quiet. The painted boards had been set up on the platform to look like a boat.

  The other people stood around and watched as if they were in a theater. They seemed to Amanda like small children who thought everything they saw on the stage was real.

  The saya-gay got into his magic boat. It took him to the underworld. There he fought with a ghost in a spooky battle. He came back with the soul of Amanda in his hands. He placed the invisible soul on her head. “Go and join the healthy people,” he commanded.

  Amanda went to stand beside Sunset Moon, who bent down to kiss her.

  Bright Star paddled back to the underworld to fight another ghost. This time he brought back Will’s soul, and Will went to join his sister.

  The last voyage was longer. Waves nearly wrecked the magic boat. The watching people held their breath.

  The third ghost was meaner and harder to outwit. The saya-gay fell to the ground more than once. At last, weary but still brave, Bright Star tenderly placed Fox-of-the-Water’s soul on the Indian boy’s head. “You are well now,” the saya-gay said.

  Fox-of-the-Water stood up. “I am forever grateful to you, Bright Star.”

  The people cheered.

  Amanda was helping Sunset Moon heat stones to drop into the wooden boxes of water. “Where is the slave woman?” she asked.

  �
�She must have sneaked out of the side door and gone off with our enemies last night,” Sunset Moon said. “Several of the slaves are missing. Perhaps they thought some of the raiders were members of their clans.”

  Amanda said nothing. She was happy for the slaves.

  “Brave Warrior and I have been talking.” Sunset Moon picked up a stone with a pair of wooden tongs. “You saved our village. We are going to adopt you and Will and change your names. Fox-of-the-Water needs a brother, and you will be the daughter I have always wanted.”

  For a minute Amanda was silent. Then she said, “I’d better go and tell Will.”

  Amanda ran across the beach to where her brother was skipping stones into the bay. She told him what Sunset Moon had said. “I guess we ought to be grateful. I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings, but I miss Mom and Dad!” Amanda was almost crying.

  “I feel the same way.” Will dropped the stone he was holding. “Let’s go talk to Bright Star.”

  They ran as fast as they could to the saya-gay’s house. He was not there.

  Amanda pointed farther down the beach. “I think I see him.”

  Bright Star was standing near the wooden statue where Will and Amanda first found themselves when they looked up from the black mirror.

  When he saw the two children, the witch doctor called to them. “Come here. I’ve something to show you.”

  “Why the rush?” Will asked.

  “Don’t ask questions!” the saya-gay told him. “I’ve done the best I could with this thing, and I don’t want anyone to see it but you two. If it works, I’ll bury it in the sand.” He walked away from the statue.

  Amanda saw the black rock where the saya-gay had placed it, flat in the sand at the base of the statue. She pulled Will over to it. Bright Star had polished the stone until it gleamed in the sunlight.

  They looked down to see the statue dimly reflected in the stone. The bright colors were gone. The wood looked old and battered, and the blue sky above it didn’t show at all.

  Suddenly both Amanda and Will had the same wild hope. Maybe Bright Star’s black mirror was magic!

  They looked up to find themselves once again in the Brooklyn Museum!

  The guard came walking over to them. “You’re not old enough to be allowed in here without a grown-up. Who knows what might happen to you?”

  “I’m sorry,” Amanda said. “We didn’t know it was against the rules.”

  They went out into the heat of the afternoon.

  Will grinned. “At least we went swimming.”

  Amanda grinned, too.

  “Play fair, Sarah! You said you’d let me look at the mummy.” Timothy Standish yanked at his sister’s hand.

  Sarah made a face. She wasn’t as fond of mummies as her brother was.

  It was Sunday afternoon. Sarah and Timothy were walking through Prospect Park. They were on their way to the Brooklyn Museum.

  When they came to the zoo in the park, Sarah wanted to look at the animals.

  “It’s too hot to go inside the animal houses,” Timothy said.

  “Most of the animals are in the outside cages today,” Sarah told him.

  Sarah and Timothy watched the sea lions splashing in their pool. “I wish we could go swimming,” Timothy said.

  “Maybe it’s cooler in the Botanic Garden.” Sarah led the way across Flatbush Avenue to the garden on the other side.

  They walked past the fountain and the water-lily pond. Sarah stopped to smell a funny crinkly flower. It grew on a bush near the gate that led to the parking lot of the Brooklyn Museum. She caught sight of a metal sign.

  “Musk rose, an ancient rose,” Sarah read. “Tim, smell this.”

  Timothy stuck his nose into the flower. Then he grabbed the rose and pulled it off the bush.

  “Hey there, boy, stop that!” One of the men who worked in the Garden came running over. “I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

  The man watched to make sure that Timothy and Sarah went out by the gate. Then he went back to weeding the herb garden.

  Sarah was angry. “Tim, how could you do that? You know you’re not allowed to pick the flowers in there.”

  “I’m sorry, Sarah. I don’t know why I did it. Somehow I couldn’t seem to stop myself.” Timothy handed his sister the little pink flower. “Here, you take the rose. I don’t want it now.”

  It made Sarah feel guilty to hold the flower, just as if she had been the one to pick it. But she didn’t want the little rose to die. She stuck it in the top buttonhole of her shirt. “I’ll put it in water when we get home.”

  The children crossed the parking lot to the back door of the museum. Then they went inside.

  “At least it’s cool in here,” Tim said.

  They had to go through the gift shop to get to the elevator. Sarah wanted to stop and see the dolls from different countries.

  “Promise we’ll go and find the mummy next,” Tim said.

  “I promise.” Sarah bent over a case to look at a wooden doll from Sweden.

  Before Timothy could get her to leave the gift shop, she looked at all the dolls in the case.

  They took the elevator upstairs. The elevator man let them off on the fourth floor. Timothy looked around. “There’s no mummy here. These are just cases full of old furniture and clothes. Let’s get back on the elevator.”

  Sarah went over to look at an old-fashioned dress in one of the cases.

  “Come on,” Tim said.

  The children turned to go back to the elevator. Suddenly Timothy grabbed Sarah’s arm. “Hey, look at that!”

  Sarah turned and saw what seemed to be a whole house inside the museum.

  Timothy went over and peeked through the small square panes of glass in one of the windows. “There’s a big fireplace in there.”

  Sarah came to join her brother. She put her nose against the ripply glass. “Look at the big pot hanging on that hook. Wouldn’t it be fun if we could go into the house?”

  Timothy stepped back from the window. He caught sight of a small glass case on one wall of the museum. “Sarah, here’s a picture of this house with trees around it.”

  Sarah went to look at it. The house was the same, all right. It was long and low, with gray clapboard walls and a shingled roof. A sign under the drawing read House on Mill Island, Flatlands, Brooklyn, 1675.

  “1675. That means this house is more than three hundred years old,” Sarah told Timothy.

  He left the case and walked around the corner of the house. “Sarah,” he called. “Here’s a door. And it’s open!”

  Sarah raced around to where Timothy was. Together they crowded through the door into the house.

  Smack! About two feet inside the house they were stopped by a glass wall. They could see into the room. But they couldn’t go into it.

  Sarah looked through the glass wall at the wide boards on the floor, at the long table with heavy legs, and at the tall grandfather clock. In the corner a bed was built into the wall. It was like a cupboard without doors. There were curtains to pull in front of it. Sarah wondered what it would be like to sleep in a bed like that.

  Timothy wrinkled his nose. “What’s that funny smell, Sarah?”

  Sarah sniffed the air. She remembered the smell from somewhere. Then she looked down and caught sight of the crinkly little rose in her buttonhole. “Maybe it’s this.” She pulled the flower out of her shirt and held it to Timothy’s nose.

  “That’s it, all right.” Timothy sniffed the rose for a minute. “I wonder if the smell gets stronger if you crush it.” He rubbed the flower against the glass wall in front of them.

  The smell got stronger and stronger. It almost made Sarah’s head ache. “Stop it, Tim!” She reached out to grab the rose away from him.

  Timothy ducked. He stepped forward. The glass had turned to air. And he could walk right through it. Before she knew what she was doing Sarah had chased her brother into the room. He dodged away from her. Sarah stubbed her toe on one of the heavy legs of the long
table.

  “Ow!” Sarah stopped and looked around. Everything seemed different. The pendulum on the tall clock was swinging back and forth. And the clock was ticking loudly. Somewhere outside the window a rooster crowed.

  Timothy looked for the flower he had been holding. It was nowhere to be seen. “Sarah, what’s happened? Let’s get out of here.” Timothy grabbed her hand and pulled her back to the open door.

  Sarah half expected to be trapped in the room by the glass wall. But the wall was gone. The two children stepped out of the door onto a long, low stoop in front of the house.

  Sarah couldn’t believe her eyes. “Tim,” she whispered, “we’re outdoors!”

  “It smells like the seaside,” Timothy said.

  “It is the seaside, Tim. Look!” Sarah pointed across a dirt road that ran in front of the house.

  There was a marshy field with sand dunes on the other side of it. Beyond the sand dunes the sea sparkled in the afternoon sunlight.

  A creek flowed through the salt marshes and between the dunes. There was a dam over the creek to make a pond. And a mill had been built right on the beach. Timothy and Sarah could hear a steady splashing sound as the big mill wheel turned.

  Then they heard something else.

  Far down the road there was a rattling, clanking noise. Around the bend came a wagon pulled by a chunky horse. There were two people riding in the wagon.

  Sarah and Timothy stepped off the stoop into the road. They watched the wagon come nearer and nearer.

  A man was driving. He wore a wide-brimmed black hat. The woman beside him had a white cap on her head.

  The man waved. “Greetings,” he called to the children.

  Timothy and Sarah waved back. But they didn’t say anything.