Fingal swam around Ben and Zoe’s dinghy, leaping happily in and out of the waves.

“He’s really happy to see us!” Zoe said with delight.

“He’s showing us his tricks,” said Ben. “Look!”

With his next leap, the young dolphin gave a flip in the air before plunging back into the waves.

When he surfaced, he gazed eagerly at the children. Zoe clapped and cheered. This seemed to please Fingal. His following jump involved two elegant spins and a flip.

“I think that calls for a reward,” said Ben. “On the website it said a whistle from the trainer means the dolphin’s done well. They start with a whistle and food treats at the same time. Then they wean the dolphin off the food rewards so they respond just to the whistle.”

Ben put his fingers to his mouth and blew a shrill whistle. Fingal swam up to the boat and began to nod his head vigorously, making a loud chattering noise.

“He’s young,” Zoe said with a laugh. “He probably still associates the whistle with food. Take the tiller while I give him a treat.”

Zoe pulled a dolphin snack out of her backpack held it in the air. “Here, Fingal,” she called. Fingal leaped up from the water and took it cleanly from her fingers.

Fingal danced backward across the waves on his tail. “He seems to like it,” said Zoe. “He’s showing us what he can do so we’ll give him some more. Smart boy!”

“We’ll run out at this rate,” said Ben. “I’ll try the whistle without the treat.” He whistled again.

This time Fingal swam close and laid his head on the side of the dinghy next to Zoe’s hand. She reached over and stroked his smooth, cold nose and the dome of his head.

“You are a lovely boy,” she crooned. “Soon you’ll be safe and sound at the sanctuary.”

“Keep him there if you can, Zoe,” said Ben, taking out his BUG and scrolling through the menu. “This is a great time to tag him with a tracking dart. Then we won’t lose him again.”

Ben aimed the BUG at Fingal. But at that moment a gust of wind caught him off guard and the dart embedded itself into the wooden side of the dinghy.

“Nice shot!” Zoe said with a laugh. “Now we’ll be able to track our boat! That’ll be useful.”

Ben stuck out his tongue at her and aimed again. This time the tiny dart flew straight into Fingal’s back. The young dolphin didn’t seem to notice at all. He rolled playfully in the sea. Zoe bent over the side to stroke him again, and he blasted her with water from his blowhole.

Fingal tossed his head back and chirped as if he was chuckling.

“That must be one of his tricks!” Ben said as Zoe wiped her face.

“He likes all the attention,” she said happily. “We’re earning his trust. Our next job is to take him somewhere that’s safe and quiet and contact Uncle Stephen.”

“There’s an inlet a few miles away,” said Ben, studying the satellite map on his BUG screen. “It’s northeast of here. It seems remote, no houses or anything, but there’s a small road leading down to it so the people from the Agua Clara Dolphin Sanctuary will be able to get a truck to our location.”

“Sounds perfect,” said Zoe, grabbing the tiller and sail ropes. “I’ll sail and you keep throwing him treats so he’ll follow us.”

Fingal swam around the boat, leaping among the waves.

Zoe smiled. “He’s like a puppy that knows it’s going for a walk,” she said.

Ben zoomed in on his map to get a close-up of the area. “Don’t go too near the land,” he warned. “The BUG’s showing that the water soon gets shallow with hidden rocks. We don’t want to crash into one.”

“No problem,” said Zoe, turning the dinghy out to sea and heading northeast.

Fingal swam alongside the boat as it gained speed. Now and again, he would soar high into the air, twist, and turn before diving back into the waves. Ben rewarded him each time with a whistle.

A sudden strong gust of wind hit Zoe in the face, taking her breath away.

The boat lurched on the choppy swell.

“What’s up with Fingal?” said Ben. “He’s hanging back. Maybe he’s scared to stray into unfamiliar waters.”

The young dolphin had stopped a few yards behind the dinghy and was calling anxiously to them. Ben threw a dolphin treat into the water.

Fingal watched as it fell, but didn’t move forward to eat it. He edged backwards in the water, as if he was going to swim away at any minute.

“Come on, Fingal,” said Zoe.

“I’ll try his pinger,” said Ben, pressing the buttons on his BUG.

He watched the sleek, rounded back of the little dolphin swimming slowly up and down just under the surface.

“We can’t let him go back to the bay,” Ben said. “We don’t have a good way to keep him away from the fishing boats.” He trailed a treat in the water. “He’s nosing at my hand,” he said.

“Good boy, Fingal,” called Zoe.

There was a blast of wind across the bow.

The sails flapped alarmingly and the boat lurched to one side. Zoe acted quickly to bring the dinghy around until the sails filled again and the boat steadied itself.

“Look ahead, Ben,” she said anxiously.

“I hope that’s not the hurricane,” Ben said. “It was forecast to miss San Miguel, but we don’t know how close it will come to the shore.”

The twins peered at the horizon. Swelling waves were rolling in toward the shore. The waves were topped with white flecks. Ominous clouds loomed overhead in the distance.

“We’re going to get caught in the storm if we stay here,” said Ben grimly.

Ben turned to throw another treat into the water.

But all Ben could see was the young dolphin speeding away from them.

“Fingal must have sensed the danger,” Ben said. “If he’s running away from the hurricane, then so should we.”