Chapter 2

An hour later, Peter herded the sheep down the path while Maggie followed slowly. He was carrying his long shepherd’s crook. She was afraid that he might trip her with it, like he often did when she wasn’t looking.

As they followed the path over a green-speckled hill, a branch broke in the forest with a loud crack!

“Baa!” cried the sheep as they scattered. Peter ran after them, shouting.

A curious young griffin flew out of the forest and started to follow the sheep. Maggie ran toward the griffin. She waved her arms in the air.

“Shoo!” she whispered, trying to warn it away. “I don’t want you to get either of us in trouble!”

The griffin arched its neck and tried to peck her. Maggie picked up a small stone and threw it. The stone sailed past the griffin, who came after her again. The next stone grazed its wing. Startled, the griffin flew back into the forest.

By the time Maggie caught up with Peter, he had herded the sheep together again.

“Where have you been?” he asked. “Were you off looking for more imaginary animals? You should have been here helping me!”

“Sorry,” said Maggie.

“You need to watch what’s going on,” Peter told her. “You’re no use to anyone if you don’t pay attention.”

Maggie and Peter kept walking until they reached an open meadow. Peter stopped to let the sheep graze. He pulled out his reed flute and began to play. Lilting notes filled the meadow, calming the sheep.

Maggie waded through the tall grass until she found a wild raspberry bush growing at the edge of the woods. She plucked some berries and popped them into her mouth. When she bit down, the sweet juice exploded on her tongue. Maybe tending sheep wouldn’t be so bad after all.

Maggie was reaching for another berry when insects smaller than bumblebees swarmed out of the raspberry bush. Their wings made a faint whirring sound. One of them nipped her and she waved it away.

After a while, the sheep began to wander into the woods, tempted by the cool shade and the tender leaves. Peter stopped playing his flute and jumped to his feet. “Don’t just stand there!” he shouted. “Herd the sheep back here. Keep them out of the woods! I’ll tell Mother if you don’t!”

Maggie wanted to tell Peter how much she disliked him, or that he was an awful person, or that nobody liked tattletales. Instead, she squeezed her lips tightly together so she wouldn’t say a word. Anything she said now would just make matters worse.