Oasis

by Cathy Hapka

  Ty looked thoughtful. “I guess that's why you weren't scared when you saw us. You've seen humans before, and other saurians, back before the storms. And Hopper was less scared than the others because he'd heard you talk about the old days.”

  “That's right. It was many, many years ago now, but I haven't forgotten. In fact, I've often wondered what became of some dear childhood friends.” Farsight smiled hopefully at the boys. “Do you by chance know of a Scutellosaurus named Curveback, or a Dryosaurus known as Taku?”

  Both Jack and Ty shook their head. The old saurian sighed.

  “Ah, well, never mind,” he murmured. “They might well be meat for the carnosaurs by this time. I sometimes feel I've lived well beyond my years.”

  “No!” Hopper cried, adding a few chirps in his own language. “Farsight needed to greet visitors.”

  “I suppose that's true.” Farsight smiled. “It is fortunate I am still here to serve as an intermediary to these visitors from Outside. After all, you two could be our only hope.”

  “What do you mean?” Jack asked, confused. He had just been preparing to ask the wise saurian for ideas about how he and Ty could get back home. Now it sounded as if the Compsognathus needed their help.

  Farsight sighed. “You see, our numbers have grown over the years. It happened slowly—so slowly that we didn't realize until it was too late.”

  “Too late?” Ty asked.

  “We thought the oasis could support the growth,” Farsight explained. “But we found our food supply dwindling. The ginkgo trees that used to feed us so generously have stopped fruiting, and so we had to rely more on the other trees, and on the minnows and insects we catch. We tried other solutions, but nothing has worked.” His eyes were clouded with sadness and anxiety. “If we don't find more food soon, the whole colony could starve!”

  CHAPTER 16

  “How could this have happened?” Jack wondered aloud, horrified on behalf of his new friends. “Was there some sort of weather change recently that might have affected the ginkgoes?”

  Farsight shook his head. “Nothing out of the ordinary. As you may have seen, there are at least half a dozen fruiting-sized trees near the village. They all stopped producing this year, for the first time in memory.”

  “That's strange . . . ,” Jack murmured, thinking back over everything he'd ever read or heard about ginkgo trees. The trees he'd seen earlier that day were mature, but not ancient. They shouldn't have stopped producing for many years yet.

  “When we realized the ginkgoes might not come back, we knew we had to try something,” Farsight went on. “After some debate, we cut down some nonfruiting trees that were growing along the shoreline. As they fell into the water, we lashed them together to create fishing platforms so we could catch more minnows, perhaps even some larger fish. But then—”

  “Mosquitoes go,” Hopper broke in, rubbing his belly sadly. “Minnows have nothing for eat, and so minnows go, too. Almost all gone.”

  “Yes, the mosquitoes have dwindled away to nearly nothing, which is another mystery to us,” Farsight said. “And the minnows that relied on the mosquitoes for food have dwindled in number, as well, until there are almost none left, leaving us with neither minnows nor mosquitoes to eat ourselves. What happened next is easy to understand. We turned to the other insects—dragonflies, beetles, whatever we could find. Their numbers were much smaller than the mosquitoes' to begin with, and so they, too, have dwindled.”

  “Wow,” Ty commented. “I never would have imagined that a few missing mosquitoes could be such a bad thing.”

  “I remember that humans and mosquitoes are not the best of friends.” Farsight smiled slightly. “However, they fed the minnows that were a staple of our diet, as well as being an important part of our diet themselves. Until the past few months, we used to be able to capture them by the thousands and still never see a decrease in their numbers. Now it is as if they have been spirited away all at once. And as young Hopper mentioned, the minnows are almost gone now, as well.”

  Jack nodded thoughtfully. “I'm sure there's an answer,” he murmured. “Something must have thrown the natural order out of balance somehow.”

  “Huh?” Ty blinked.

  Jack glanced at him. “The natural order,” he explained. “You know, the life cycle—the way all parts of life work together, from the springs to the trees and other foliage to the Compsognathus. It sounds as if things in the oasis were fairly well balanced until recently. Sometimes if one thing changes, it can affect everything else. It might just be a matter of figuring out that one first thing and fixing it, if possible. The question is, what was it?”

  Ty shrugged. “I don't know about all that stuff, but the answer to the bigger problem is simple,” he said. “The Compsognathus need to leave here, get help from the outside. There's plenty of food on Dinotopia for everyone. Plenty of mosquitoes, too.” He grinned.

  “It may be the only way,” Farsight agreed with a sigh. “However, I'm afraid it's not as simple as it seems. For one thing, many here will be reluctant to leave the only home they've ever known—especially those who have believed all their lives that there is nothing out there besides the desert sands.”

  “I understand,” Jack said. “But only a small party would need to leave. They could bring back supplies for the others—all they'd need to do is find their way to Meeramu and ask for help.”

  Farsight nodded. “Yes, but that is where the second difficulty comes in,” he said. “You see, the old maps have all been lost. And there is no one still living who has ever been Outside. Except for you two, of course. Any caravan that tries to find help is more likely to end up wandering in the desert until they perish.”

  Jack bit his lip, realizing for the first time just how hopeless the situation looked. If the Compsognathus didn't know the way to Meeramu, that meant he and Ty were right back where they'd started—lost. At least they had found a nice place to live, where they wouldn't end up dead of thirst and hunger. Not until the Compsognathus ran out of food completely, anyway . . .

  It's too bad we don't still have that map we found, he thought. He checked his pockets quickly, making sure it wasn't there. I haven't seen it since we left the campsite in the desert. Ty must have burned it in the campfire, or left it behind in the dry oasis. Not that it would've been much help anyway—we couldn't even understand it, and it sounds as if these Compsognathus don't even have a written language, so they would be no help. I suppose our only hope is that the caravan doesn't stop looking for us.

  “But come,” Farsight said, stepping toward the path leading down. “The sun will be hiding its face soon. You two have had quite an adventure, and you must be weary. Let young Hopper and myself take you back down to the village and introduce you to the others. We may not have much to eat, but there is enough to share with new friends.”

  An hour later, Jack and Ty had bathed in the shallow water of the lake and refreshed themselves with more cool, clear water from the spring. They had also met the other members of the village. Though nervous at first, the Compsognathus quickly warmed to the visitors as Farsight explained their presence and Hopper proudly helped translate the introductions.

  Farsight and Jack sat on a pair of rocks near the edge of the lake. The elderly saurian smiled as he watched a young female Compsognathus named Silvervoice giggling as Ty playfully juggled three stones nearby. Several others were running around, eagerly gathering more and more small stones for him to toss.

  “I am happy that the others have taken to you so quickly, but not surprised,” Farsight told Jack. “The old legends and songs are full of friendship between humans and dinosaurs. For those here who have never seen one of your kind, it is as if all those tales have suddenly come to life.”

  Before Jack could respond, another Compsognathus approached shyly. He squeaked out a few words in his own tongue, glancing hopefully at Farsight.

  “Jinno wishes me to ask you a question,” Farsight told Jack. “He wants to know how you and you
r friend have managed to survive Out There.”

  Jack looked at the younger Compsognathus as he responded, even though he knew that Jinno couldn't understand his words. “We come from a little town called Dribbling Spring,” he explained. “It's just one of the nice places to live in Dinotopia. There are lots of other humans like us, and plenty of dinosaurs, too. Even other Compsognathus like you.”

  Jinno listened, wide-eyed, as Farsight carefully translated. The younger Compsognathus seemed astonished and perhaps even dubious, though he smiled at Jack and gave him a little bow of thanks.

  Just then Hopper came bounding over, chattering excitedly. “Visitors listen,” he cried. “We make song for you honor. Is good?”

  “You're going to sing for us?” Jack stood up. “I would be honored to listen.”

  He walked over to join Ty, who was already sitting cross-legged on the pebbly beach. A dozen or more Compsognathus were huddled nearby, chittering quietly.

  “What are they going to sing?” Jack asked as he lowered himself to the ground beside Ty.

  “I think it's some kind of celebration song,” Ty replied.

  Farsight, who was standing just behind them, voiced his agreement. “It is a common choice for special occasions of all kinds,” he explained. “It is a song of friendship and goodwill, which is why they wish to sing it to you.”

  A moment later, the Compsognathus gathered in front of the boys. Silvervoice let out a hum, and then the others joined in. Although the language still sounded foreign to Jack, the saurian melody was sweet, and by the end of the song he found himself humming along.

  When the song was finished, both boys clapped enthusiastically. “It was beautiful,” Jack said. “The tune sounded sort of familiar. But I didn't understand any of the words. What did they mean?”

  “I think I got most of the first verse,” Ty said. “Let me see if I've got it right.”

  He stood and began, his voice sure and clear:

  “One smile begins the friendship,

  One laugh follows the other,

  Another kind deed brings us closer,

  Each new loving friend makes us richer.”

  As the Compsognathus cheered enthusiastically in appreciation of Ty's rendition, Jack gasped. He realized now why the melody had seemed so familiar.

  “It's almost like ‘One Step'!” he cried. Turning to Farsight, he explained, “That's a popular dinosaur marching song throughout the Great Desert. Maybe even throughout Dinotopia, I'm not sure.”

  Farsight nodded, his eyes distant and warm. “I remember my parents and other old friends teaching it to me,” he said. “It must have been passed down over the generations, each one changing the words and tune slightly but keeping a bit of the original, as well.”

  Hopper was listening carefully, obviously trying to soak up as many of the strange human words as he could. As the other singers dispersed, chattering and laughing among themselves, the long-legged young Compsognathus stepped forward and tugged at Jack's sleeve.

  “Hopper show friends home,” he suggested. “Go walking?”

  “He wants to give us a tour,” Ty told Jack.

  Jack nodded. “I got that,” he said. “Thanks, Hopper. I'd love to look around a little more.”

  Bidding good-bye to Farsight, the two boys followed their little saurian friend along the shore of the lake. As Ty and Hopper talked, each using a blend of his own language and the other's, Jack looked around with interest. While he'd been meeting the Compsognathus and seeing the village, part of his mind had stayed focused on the colony's food problems, turning the facts over and over, examining them from every angle. Unfortunately, he hadn't yet managed to come up with any good solutions.

  It just doesn't make sense, he thought as they approached the forest near the base of Farsight's stony tower. Hopper was pointing out the sights to Ty, but Jack trailed behind them, lost in thought. Why would a bunch of perfectly healthy ginkgo trees suddenly stop bearing fruit? Jack wondered.

  He glanced up at the stately branches with their fan-shaped, pale-green leaves. As the light disappeared from the sky, a slight breeze tickled the treetops and cooled the air. Jack stared at the ginkgoes. What was he missing? Ginkgoes weren't fussy plants. All they needed was light, soil, water, and . . .

  “I've got it!” he cried suddenly.

  Ty spun around, startled. “Huh?” he said. “What's wrong? Did you get stung or something?”

  Instead of answering, Jack raced forward, passing Ty and Hopper. “Just give me a second,” he said. “I have to check on something.”

  The others followed him into the forest, catching up to him as he stared at the trunk of a large fallen tree—another ginkgo. “When did this tree fall?” he asked Hopper.

  Hopper flicked out his tongue uncertainly. “Tree fall?” he said. “Maybe in big wind.” He added a few words in his own language.

  “He says it probably came down in the last big windstorm,” Ty translated. “That was three or four moon rotations ago—I guess that means months.”

  “Just as I thought,” Jack said. “Don't you get it? This was the male.”

  “What do you mean?” Ty looked confused.

  “Ginkgoes are dioecious,” Jack explained as patiently as he could. Now that he had solved one mystery, he was itching to attack the other. “That means there has to be a male tree around to fertilize the females, or there will be no fruit. Cragnog taught me that back in Dribbling Spring,” he added softly, with a sudden pang of homesickness.

  Ty let out a low whistle. “That makes sense,” he said. “I guess this must have been the only male tree. So when it came down . . .”

  “The fruit stopped coming,” Jack finished. “Do me a favor—ask Hopper where they used to catch the most minnows and see the most mosquitoes.”

  Ty translated Jack's explanation and his question for the little Compsognathus. After Hopper made his response, Ty pointed back toward the lake. “He says they didn't have to go far most of the time,” he said. “There were always lots of minnows in the shallows near the beach, especially in the area just a little ways southwest of the village where the mosquitoes clustered.”

  “Let's go there.” Without waiting for a response, Jack hurried back toward the lake. He already had an inkling about what might have happened to the mosquitoes—the ginkgo grove had given him a hint—but he wanted to check it out for himself before saying anything to the others.

  “What are you looking for now?” Ty panted, catching up to him.

  “You'll see,” Jack told him. “Come on, let's get to the beach.”

  A few minutes later, the three of them hurried back to the village to report what Jack had discovered. They found Farsight watching the sunset from a comfortable perch on a rock near the edge of the water. As soon as the old Compsognathus heard the reason behind the disappearance of the ginkgo fruit, he gasped, seeming shaken. “And the mosquitoes?” he asked. “Was there some connection to the ginkgo problem?”

  “Not exactly,” Jack replied. “But it did help me figure it out. See, there is a similar thing going on. The mosquitoes aren't leaving the oasis, they're just failing to reproduce the way they used to. I believe it's because their breeding grounds were in the dark shallows below the trees that were felled to make the fishing platforms. That part of the water gets much more light now, especially when the sun occasionally breaks through the cloud cover as it's doing right now. So the mosquitoes no longer have the conditions they need to breed so quickly. And of course, with fewer mosquitoes to eat, the minnows' numbers have reduced as well. That's why you've had neither enough minnows to feed your colony nor mosquitoes to eat.”

  “Then it's true.” Farsight shook his head sadly. “The wind has taken one food source from us, and we have unwittingly destroyed the other through our own desperation and lack of knowledge. Now we will have no easy choice. We can stay here and slowly starve, or strike out into the uncertainty of the desert and hope to find help.”

  Jack bit his lip.
He had been so excited about figuring out the answers to the mysteries that he had almost forgotten what those answers would mean to the Compsognathus. “I saw a number of good-sized ginkgo seedlings growing near the adult trees,” he pointed out hopefully. “Some of them are surely males. Eventually they will mature, and there will be fruit again.”

  “True. But I'm afraid that will come too late for us, especially as there may be no good solution to the minnow and mosquito issue in the meantime.” Farsight sighed. “If you will excuse me, I should tell the others of your discoveries. Come, Hopper. You can help me explain.”

  As the saurians hurried farther into the village, Jack drew Ty aside. “You realize what this means, don't you?” he murmured.

  Ty stared at him. “That was pretty cool, the way you figured that out,” he said. “I never would have known all that stuff about male and female ginkgoes, or about mosquito breeding grounds.”

  “Thanks,” Jack said, a little distracted. “But listen. If there's not enough food to maintain the Compsognathus colony, that means there's not going to be enough to feed us for long, either. We're all in the horsetails together. We could try catching some larger fish, but I bet there aren't many out there—especially with no minnows or insects to feed them. In any case, whatever we could catch won't last forever. And there are a limited number of date palms and cycad seeds in the oasis.”

  Ty nodded thoughtfully. “There must be other things we could eat in this place,” he commented. “After all, it's practically a jungle. What about cycad shoots? I've had those before and they're quite tasty.”

  Jack shook his head. “That might feed us for a week or so, but what then? Cycads grow incredibly slowly. If we ate all the growing shoots, we would have to wait a very, very long time before we could expect a second harvest of shoots or seeds.”

  “Oh.” Ty shrugged. “Well, so what? If we can hang on for a couple of weeks, that could be enough time for the caravan to find us.”

  “And what if they don't?” Jack frowned, less at Ty's suggestion than because of his own worry. “Nobody has found this oasis for years and years. How is our caravan supposed to find it now? The desert winds have surely swept away our tracks by now, and the messages we left in the sand can't have lasted long.”