Dinosaur Blackout

by Judith Silverthorne

  Contents

  Title Page

  Book & Copyright Information

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Vocabulary/Descriptions

  Creatures Mentioned in the Book

  Other References & Notes

  Bibliography

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  © Judith Silverthorne, 2008.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written consent of the publisher or a licence from The Canadian Copyright Licensing Agency (Access Copyright). For an Access Copyright licence, visit www.accesscopyright.ca or call toll free to 1-800-893-5777.

  This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Edited by Barbara Sapergia

  Cover illustrations by Aries Cheung

  Cover and book design by Duncan Campbell

  National Library of Canada Cataloguing in Publication Data

  Silverthorne, Judith, date-

          Dinosaur blackout / Judith Silverthorne.

  (Dinosaur adventure series ; 4)

  Includes bibliographical references.

  ISBN 978-1-55050-375-3

  1. Dinosaurs—Juvenile fiction.  I. Title.  II. Series: Silverthorne,

  Judith, 1953—Dinosaur adventure series ; 4.

  ps8587.i2763d545 2008 jc813'.54 c2008-900241-5

  Available in Canada from

  Coteau Books

  2517 Victoria Avenue, Regina Saskatchewan Canada S4P 0T2

  www.coteaubooks.com

  The publisher gratefully acknowledges the financial assistance of the Saskatchewan Arts Board, the Canada Council for the Arts, including the Millennium Arts Fund, the Government of Canada through the Book Publishing Industry Development Program (BPIDP), Association for the Export of Canadian Books, and the City of Regina Arts Commission, for its publishing program.

  As always, to my son, Aaron,

  who inspired me with this series

  from the beginning.

  To Modeste McKenzie,

  many thanks for the imaginative details

  in the final venture to the past.

  And to Susan McKenzie

  for suggestions throughout.

  Chapter One

  Daniel awoke with a niggling feeling in the pit of his stomach. He couldn’t remember his dreams, just a feeling of unease and the memory of a strange sound that ran through them. As he dressed, he noted how the low angles of late summer sunlight glinted off his computer, highlighting the rows of books and dinosaur replicas on the shelves above his desk. He could hear the fee-bee-bee of chickadees chattering in the caragana hedge below his open window. And downstairs Mom rattled pans and dishes as she made breakfast. The aroma of coffee and sizzling sausages wafted upwards. His two-year-old sister Cheryl must still be sleeping. He didn’t hear her usual chatter. Everything seemed normal and he couldn’t figure out what was bothering him.

  Dad was sure to be halfway down the valley at the farm’s campsite, seeing if the tourists needed any help preparing for one of the day’s tours. At an excavation not far from the campsite, visitors could see a real dinosaur dig and even help with work on a small sample plot. If anything were wrong there, Dad would be sure to come to the house for help. The operation was simple though, and aside from guests having mechanical difficulties with their campers, there was little that could go wrong. Daniel and his best friend Jed Lindstrom had checked the night before that there was ample water and firewood. They’d fed and pastured the trail-ride horses and made sure the campfires were doused.

  But the uneasiness persisted as Daniel headed to the barn, only slipping to the back of his mind as he carried out his chores. While he milked Daisy, he studied how the bright shaft of sunlight from the high windows outlined the mangers and stalls of the old wooden barn with its packed dirt floor and wall ladder that led to the hayloft.

  When Craig and Todd Nelwin rattled open the big sliding door some time later, light streamed in and the dust motes danced down the centre corridor. Marble’s kittens skittered about, playing with pieces of straw that fluttered to the ground like butterflies each time a puff of fresh autumn air swept through the barn.

  The brothers had been working at the Bringhams’ all summer, as restitution for bullying attacks on Daniel and vandalism at the campsite. They’d been better workers than anyone expected, and after their debt was paid, Daniel’s father had hired them for the rest of the summer. The boys lived alone with an abusive father – their mother had died five years ago. Now they were almost like part of Daniel’s family. Craig had even developed an interest in dinosaurs.

  Daniel snorted back a laugh as he caught sight of Craig. The younger brother’s light brown hair stuck out in all directions, like a windmill gone wonky. Obviously the stocky fifteen-year-old had not taken the time to plaster it down as he usually did. In contrast, sixteen-year-old Todd’s dark bristly hair stood on end all the time, though it seemed to spike to attention even more this morning, like a frightened porcupine. But neither boy had any fresh bruises to indicate that their father might be hitting them again.

  Daniel supposed that with the boys working at his family’s place full-time, their dad didn’t have time to harass his sons. Horace Nelwin seemed to have accepted them working away from home, though he insisted they do their chores at home, morning and night. His mean streak flared whenever they were late.

  “What’re we doing at the quarry today?” Craig asked, grabbing a pitchfork from a nail on the wall and starting to clean the stalls.

  “Nothing special that I know of,” Daniel replied. He expected that they’d continue uncovering the Stygimoloch skeleton they’d been working on for the past couple of months. Mr. Pederson, their neighbour and Daniel’s friend, had discovered the skeleton of the fairly rare plant-eating dinosaur. Sometimes referred to as “thorny devils” or “demons from the river Styx,” the small pachycephalosaurs had bumpy skulls rimmed with many one-hundred millimetre horns. Pederson and Daniel had been exploring the fossil sites for a year and a half now, and the Stygimoloch was one of their most exciting discoveries.

  Craig shook his head in disappointment. “Too bad we couldn’t go prospecting,” he said. Prospecting meant looking for places that might contain fossils, and Mr. Pederson had promised to show them how to do it.

  Daniel thought about it. “You know, after this weekend, there aren’t any visitors scheduled for quarry tours. Maybe we could talk Mr. Pederson into going next week.”

  “We’ll have to do it soon. School starts on Thursday,” Craig reminded him, leaning on the fork.

  Todd spoke up. “I’d like to go too.”

  “You would?” asked Daniel, trying not to look too surprised. Todd had never shown an interest in the time-consuming work of uncovering dinosaurs before.

  Todd shrugged. “Sure, why not?”

  “’Cause you always prefer to help Daniel’s dad with the farm work, rather than digging at the quarry,” Craig said.

  “Doesn’t mean I can’t be interested in paleontology too.” Todd nudged his brother with a muscular sh
oulder. He looked a bit embarrassed, but determined.

  “Guess not.” Craig regained his balance.

  Daniel agreed. “No problem. We’ll ask Mr. Pederson this morning then.”

  “Great.” Todd swung the pitchfork around and began scooping up the manure in the first stall. Craig set to work, whistling.

  As usual, the brothers worked in tandem, with Todd taking the lead and Craig following behind. This morning they made a game of their chores, challenging one another to see whose energy would give out first at the fastest pace they could go. Loading pitchforks with manure and heaping it onto the stoneboat for later removal, then chucking bales of hay and spreading the clean straw around the stall was strenuous work. They were soon sweating and grunting.

  Daniel watched the pair, listening to the sounds of the barn – the squirt, squirt of milk hitting the metal pail, several lazy flies buzzing and cows rustling in the straw bedding at their feet. But when he grew bored with the boys’ antics, Daniel felt anxiety rising to the surface of his mind again.

  Shuffling the playful kittens out from under his feet, Daniel moved over to milk Lily, then carried the pails of milk to the separating room. As he released the cows into the fenced pasture for the day, his golden retriever appeared from over the rise of a hill and scampered towards the barn.

  “Dactyl, how’re you doing, boy?” Daniel bent to scratch behind the dog’s ears, continuing down his back, burrowing his hands into the thick, furry coat. Daniel had named him after the prehistoric Pterodactyls that had once flown through these very skies.

  Dactyl lifted a paw for a handshake and waited for a treat. Daniel pulled a small biscuit out of his pocket. Dactyl rose on his hind legs with a little whining noise in his throat and Daniel popped a tasty morsel into the dog’s mouth. With a few quick chomps, it was gone.

  Daniel continued to pat his dog, gazing out at the rolling hills of southwest Saskatchewan and the Frenchman River Valley. Several miles to the south of the Bringham farm lay the town of Climax. To the east was the town of Eastend with its T. rex Discovery Centre and the Royal Saskatchewan Museum field station. Although the entire area looked scrubby and uninteresting to some eyes, Daniel knew the terrain concealed many treasures in the form of prehistoric fossils. The coulees and buttes also camouflaged the homes of antelope, mule deer and black-tailed prairie dogs. To Daniel, it was the best place he could imagine.

  Daniel scanned the valley below, where his secret hideout lay in a gully, its opening hidden by brush to keep away prying eyes. He had no sense of concern when he thought about his collections of fossils, rocks and paleontological gear stashed inside. Although several people, including his parents, his neighbour Ole Pederson and Dr. Mildred Roost – a visiting paleontologist – knew of its location, they had no reason to intrude.

  Nor did the Nelwin brothers, at least not since they’d trashed the place earlier in the summer and had to clean it up. Besides, they were too busy concentrating on the finds at the quarry and assisting the guests who came to explore. And they still had to keep up with the farm work.

  But the feeling of disquiet arose again. Something wasn’t right. Daniel tried to shake it off as he saw Dad walk into the yard.

  “Wait up!” he called. He and Dactyl raced over and they all walked to the house together.

  “Things okay down there?” Daniel indicated the campsite.

  “Sure,” Dad answered. “Why do you ask?”

  “No reason,” he said, breathing a sigh of relief. As they chatted, Daniel scanned the cloudless sky. No indication of bad weather brewing.

  By the time he and Dad washed and returned to the kitchen, the Nelwins had arrived and seated themselves at their customary spots at the breakfast table. His sister Cheryl sat in her high chair, squishing bits of pancake in chokecherry syrup, then stuffing them into her mouth with contented little murmurs. Bits of purple streaked the fluffy blonde curls around her face.

  Moments later, the sound of crunching gravel in their driveway meant Ole Pederson had arrived. A tap on the door, followed by its swift opening, revealed him and Dr. Mildred Roost. Mom greeted them warmly. Mildred Roost removed her Tilley hat, letting it dangle down her back on its wind cord, revealing her long, braided grey hair. She stamped her metal cane along the floor, even though she didn’t really need it, taking a chair closest to the door. Mr. Pederson chose the seat beside her, curling his long legs beneath his chair.

  “Good morning!” Dad slid into his place at the head of the table, beaming at everyone.

  “Hard to believe summer is about over,” Dr. Roost sighed, shifting her cane to a more comfortable position on the back of her chair.

  “Yes, and our first tourist season has almost come to an end too,” said Mom, serving their pancakes with a flourish.

  Ole Pederson’s grey-blue eyes twinkled as he patted the wisps of grey hair in place over his forehead to hide his receding hairline. “I’d say in many ways it’s been quite a success!”

  Everyone chorused an agreement. All their long hours to prepare the dig and construct a campsite had created a new attraction in the area. The many tours they’d given had worked well.

  “After this Labour Day long weekend, we’ll have to tally up the final financial results,” Dad said, reaching for the syrup.

  Ole Pederson nodded. “Yes, that’s what’ll help us decide if we want to do it again next year.”

  “And if the bank will give us the go-ahead,” added Mom.

  Daniel sat up with a jolt. He’d never even considered that they wouldn’t continue. All he could think about was how important their discoveries were to the paleontology world, how exciting it was to learn about prehistoric times.

  “But we’ve had plenty of people coming for the tours,” Daniel spluttered.

  “Yes,” Dad agreed, “but that doesn’t mean we’ve made enough money at it to support us all.”

  Two families, Daniel’s and his friend Jed’s, along with Ole Pederson, operated the paleontology dig and campground for tourists interested in learning more about dinosaurs and the world they lived in. They’d planned the venture as a way of providing extra income to keep their farms alive. And Ole Pederson was the centre of it all. He’d discovered the skeleton of an Edmontosaurus almost two years earlier and he’d also helped establish a dinosaur museum in Climax. Daniel had been involved with Mr. Pederson in the preparation of the bones.

  “The sooner we discuss the future, the better,” agreed Mr. Pederson. “Especially now that we’ve found the Stygimoloch and there are indications of other possible finds.”

  “As soon as we release the information about the Stygimoloch, we’ll have even more visitors,” Daniel suggested. Until Daniel and Pederson found their almost whole skeleton, there had only been five partial skulls found in North America and those had been discovered in Montana and Wyoming in 1983.

  “Yes, but we’re still not quite ready to do that,” Dad said.

  “Indeed,” Ole Pederson added, “we need to finish retrieving the entire fossil and verify it as much as possible. I want to make sure we do this right.”

  Dr. Roost snorted, “Yeah, and that nosy news reporter from Eastend, Adrian McDermott, is already suspicious that we have something special here.”

  “He’s just looking for any kind of news to fill up the paper,” Mom said. “He’s young, he’s fresh out of journalism school and he’s excited...”

  “And he’s a pain,” said Ole Pederson.

  “Yeah, but it’s got to be tough for him when nothing exciting goes on in this area otherwise,” Dad said.

  “Just seems like he’s everywhere. But I suppose he does cover every bake sale and school event, which is important to people around here,” Mr. Pederson admitted.

  “And the story he did on our tourist operation last month brought more people our way,” said Daniel. “Maybe if we had more publicity, we’d have even more people coming and we’d be sure of being able to continue.”

  “You might be right, Daniel,�
�� said Dad, “but still we’ll have to wait and see how things go and do them in the right order. We don’t want to jeopardize Mr. Pederson’s work and reveal anything before we’re ready.”

  “At least when the time is right to get it into the news, you know he’ll be a good one to go to,” Dr. Roost said, chuckling.

  Daniel sighed to himself. He sure hoped they’d be able to continue the tourism operation the following year and, of course, keep the farm. He had the best of all worlds right now, living the rural life and being able to dig for dinosaur bones. But the greatest part of the last couple of years had been his astonishing excursions into prehistoric time. He had been flung into the world of late Cretaceous Period dinosaurs – the very paleontological age they were unearthing in their quarry.

  Although the first couple of trips happened by accident, his last terrifying adventure was one he’d planned. He’d meant to go alone, but Dr. Roost had turned up at the last minute and insisted on coming along. The adventure had almost cost them their lives.

  Now, even though Daniel knew a way to go back to the past again, it wasn’t something he wanted to attempt for a good long time. He had safely hidden some prehistoric foliage that could transport him back. Pederson and Dr. Roost knew nothing about it, but he was pretty sure Craig knew that there was still a way to go back.

  As the conversation bubbled around him, Daniel concentrated on the delicious whole wheat saskatoon berry pancakes smothered in plain yogurt and drizzled with tangy-sweet chokecherry syrup, followed with bites of spicy homemade sausage. He noticed the Nelwins digging in with relish too. At last, he had his fill, and washed the meal down with a final refreshing jolt of freshly squeezed orange juice.

  “Terrific, as usual, Libby,” Ole Pederson told Daniel’s mom, patting his stomach. As Pederson shoved back his chair and reached for his hat, Dr. Roost nodded in agreement, swallowing the last of her coffee.

  “Ready to head out?” she asked.

  Pederson nodded. “I want to get an early start.” He looked at Daniel and Craig. “You boys ready?”