Trying to regain his shaken composure, Milton put his binoculars up to his eyes and focused on the next task: finding the Enmity-Amity Trees. They had been lucky finding the Starlight Starbright Trees, but what if they weren’t so lucky this time? What if they came out on the other coast by the research station, treasure-less?
He didn’t have to worry. It was very clear when they’d reached their destination. Milton didn’t even need his binoculars.
The Enmity-Amity Trees were exactly like the guide said—extremely tall, and riddled with hundreds of indentations. High, high up, there were blue, green, and yellow leaves, but most of the trees were composed of trunk, and rather than being round, those trunks were square.
Milton, Fig, Rafi, and Gabe kept a safe distance, because poison-thorn-shooting trees are no joke.
“So we’re here,” said Rafi after taking a few pictures. “What now?”
“The next entry is the SunBurst Blossoms and then the Beautimous Lemallaby,” Fig said. “Maybe they’re nearby, and we should trek around this area and see if we can spot them? The SunBurst Blossoms are supposed to be up high, but I think the lemallaby could be either in a tree or down in a burrow, based on their description.”
After yesterday’s assemblage failures and near-digestion, Milton realized this was the perfect chance to further redeem himself. He had years of birdwatching experience, after all, and this couldn’t be that much different. Setting his explorer hat at a jaunty angle, he said, “Let’s split into two teams. Fig and I will search up high since I have these.” He brandished his neon-green binoculars, ignoring Rafi’s little snort of laughter (if only he had the significantly more impressive Magnifycent2000s). “Rafi and Gabe, you search down below.”
After he said this, Milton waited for Rafi to protest … but he didn’t. He shrugged and Gabe said, “Aye, aye!” and off they went, their backs hunched as they peered around the densely foliaged jungle floor. Milton and Fig set off too, faces tilted skyward, scanning the way-up-there leaves for some sign of the massive blossoms or the monkey-possum-bandicoot-type animals.
They hiked in a circle around the trees.
No sign.
They hiked in a bigger circle.
Still no sign.
They hiked in a smaller circle again.
Not even one little sign.
After an hour of circle walking, all they had to show for it were two sore necks and two sore backs. And it turned out yesterday’s truth-telling didn’t guarantee eternal bliss either.
“I’m getting tired of searching for burrows that don’t exist,” Rafi grumbled as they rounded the Enmity-Amity Trees for the millionth time. “Any more brilliant ideas, Dr. Bird Br—”
“Watch it, Rafi,” Fig cautioned.
Milton was racking his explorer hat–covered brain trying to think of what to do next. If this were Isle of Wild, there would be another prompt by now—a path, a creature racing by, a meowed hint from Dear Lady DeeDee. He flipped through the guide as he trudged along (which led to a lot of stumbles and stubbed toes and one spectacular face-plant), but he couldn’t find any clues. So much for redeeming himself!
As the morning wore on with no further progress, Milton grew more and more discouraged. His glasses kept sliding off his sweaty nose. His backpack seemed super heavy. When he slipped for the twentieth time and hollered from the ground, “I think we should take a lunch break!” no one objected.
Milton stayed right where he was. Fig came and sat next to him. Without speaking, she handed him a bag of plantain chips and a peanut butter sandwich. He took them, but he decided to start on the jerky first. It looked pretty substantial. Maybe it would fill him up, and he could return Fig’s food. He didn’t want to seem like too much of a mooch.
“You know,” Fig said, “that’s fish jerky. Your uncle made it himself, and gave it out as a Christmas present, but we threw ours away. I’m pretty sure the Alvarezes did too. I think he ground up the whole fish, bones and all.”
“At least it’s not spaghetti and meatballs,” Milton replied. He took a big chomp—and nearly broke his teeth. It was some seriously tough jerky.
He had switched to gnawing off little shreds when Gabe came skipping over. “Hey hey! Can I see that guide thingy?” he asked.
So far, Gabe had shown zero interest in the field guide, but Milton figured he had as much of a right to look as anyone else, so he handed it over and went back to his gnawing. Gabe sat on the ground next to him and started flipping rapidly and randomly through the cream-colored leaf-pages, humming happily.
Milton had finally managed to nibble off a chunk that did, in fact, contain quite a few bone shards when Gabe said, “Didja figure out the clue for where these wacky cats are yet?”
“A clue? For the lemallabies?” Milton asked, massaging his aching jaw.
“Yep. The one from this part: Habitat: That’s for me to know and you to find out by studying this guide from start to finish. So didja look from start to finish yet?”
Fig and Milton exchanged a glance. “I guess we haven’t done that, no,” Fig told him.
“Wowzers! Well, then gimme a paper and a pen,” Gabe said with a big grin. “I think I got an idea!”