It had been four days now, and we had completely run out of food – except for a couple of packets of biscuits that even the dogs wouldn’t eat. Very fussy, I thought. Must have gotten used to the good life!

What was I supposed to do, I wondered, as I munched on a stale biscuit. The dogs depended on me. They were all just regular dogs, used to being looked after and having someone feed them each day. They must have run from the cars too, I figured, and been separated from their families just the same as I had been. We were all in the same mess together.

Suddenly Nosey started barking loudly.

‘What’s up, Nosey?’

He ran towards some bushes.

Zip followed after him, both of them yapping.

I realised they were chasing something.

A brown-grey creature darted along the ground, zig-zagging through the grass. A lizard!

Soon all the dogs were chasing after it. Even Brutus lumbered along, taking his time to build speed until he was bounding powerfully.

Speedy as always, Zip surged to the front of the pack and had very nearly caught the lizard when it suddenly darted up a tree. The poor-sighted greyhound kept running at full pace and whacked his shoulder into the trunk.

The lizard scurried upwards to sit safely on a branch, looking down at the bunch of mad woofing dogs.

Why were they barking at the lizard?

Maybe they want to eat it? I thought. Gross! Then again, any type of meat would probably do for a dog. I’d seen Molly eat flies.

Alright then, if this is the only way I can feed you, so be it. These dogs had saved my life, so now it was my turn to look after them.

‘Don’t worry. I’m going to get you guys some food,’ I told the dogs.

I picked up a rock and threw it at the lizard, but I missed by a long shot. The reptile simply scurried higher up the tree and disappeared out of sight.

I remembered a book I once read about a girl who hunted with a bow and arrow. Suddenly, I also remembered that Dad had a compartment in the boot where he kept hunting gear!

I rushed over to look, but found nothing. Nothing, that is, except for a sling.

Slings are hard to use. Once when I was younger Dad had given me a go, but I was no good at it. I needed to find another weapon.

‘Okay, we’re going to look through all these cars for something to hunt with.’

I spent a couple of hours searching every boot, every glovebox, every truck cabin once more for something resembling a weapon.

But I found nothing. Nothing whatsoever!

So I went back to the sling. My father’s sling. He didn’t use it much, but he said it was worth keeping because you didn’t need to go to a shop to get bullets or arrows for it. All you needed were a few good rocks.

I’d seen him use it plenty of times, and he was really good at it. There was a leather pouch you could put the rock in, attached to two lengths of cord. One ended in a loop which went around your wrist, and the other with a flat tab that you held in your fingers. The idea is, you put a rock in the pouch and then swing the sling around until you are ready to let go of the tab and send the rock flying.

I knew it was a tricky thing to get the hang of, but I had no choice.

I picked a rock off the ground and placed it in the leather pouch. I aimed at a tree stump nearby and started swinging the sling around. When I thought the time was right, I let go of the tab . . .

The rock shot straight down onto the ground in front of me, sending up a puff of dust and barely missing Zip, who tilted his head at me quizzically.

‘Sorry, Zip!’

Wow, at least it was powerful.

I picked up another rock and tried to remember how Dad used it. He would swing it around again and again until he felt sure he had lined up the shot . . .

The rock zinged just past the tree stump.

The dogs barked in excitement.

I missed, but not by much. I began to hope that this powerful sling was going to get us some food, with a bit of practice.

I picked up a handful of rocks and tried again and again and again. Miss, miss, hit, miss . . . I moved back further and practised some more.

I also worked out that a certain size of stone was best – too light was hard to aim, but too heavy wouldn’t travel as far.

Then I picked up a bunch of smaller stones as I had seen my father do, and put all of them into the pouch. I swung the pouch and POW! The smaller stones didn’t hit as hard, but they sprayed out and covered a bigger area.

I set about collecting big stones and small stones.

A few hours later, I’d made five hits in a row. The old tree stump was dented all over and had lost several large chunks of bark. I’d not only improved my aim, but also the strength of the shot. I was no expert yet, of course, but I was feeling much more confident.

‘Okay doggies, let’s go!’

We ran back into the forest. Suddenly we all felt energised. There was a crackling in the air as we embarked on our first hunt.

Tiny’s radar ears swivelled suddenly and he took off after a dark shape in the undergrowth. What was that?

Another lizard? No, it wasn’t a lizard . . . it was a snake!

‘Tiny, come back! It’s a snake!’

I reached into my pocket and pulled out a stone. I whizzed the sling around and . . .

I missed as the snake slithered under a rock overhang.

Tiny stood outside it, barking and dancing about.

The snake poked its head out from under the rock and hissed at Tiny.

‘Come back now!’ I called.

There was no time. The snake was backed into a corner and threatening to strike. Tiny continued to growl and yap at the snake, confident he could take it on.

I pulled out another stone and took aim at the snake again.

Arghh! Another miss. My rock pinged off the top of the overhang.

Now the other dogs were running towards the snake, getting all worked up, wagging their tails and not realising the danger.

‘Come back! All of you!’ I ordered, but it was no use. ‘There are no vets out here if one of you gets bitten, you idiots!’

I had one chance left. I grabbed a bunch of smaller stones and loaded up my sling.

C’mon, Gwen, focus, I told myself. The snake reared its head, its fangs glistening with dripping venom . . . just then, Tiny – perhaps beginning to realise he was out of his depth – stepped back, giving me an opening.

I swung the sling around and around until I felt that the moment was right. I released the tab and

The stones flew through the air and one of them cracked the snake right on the head! I couldn’t believe it! The snake dropped to the ground and lay motionless.

My first kill.

I was relieved I’d protected Tiny, but I felt terrible as well. I’d never killed a creature before. This hunting thing was not going to be easy.

The noisy group of dogs barked madly at the snake, although they still kept their distance. I suppose there’s something about snakes – they’re scary even when they’re dead.

Nosey edged closer slowly and picked up the lifeless reptile in his teeth. He dragged it out from underneath the rock and dropped it at my feet.

Now that it was stretched out completely I was surprised by just how big it was.

Nearly five feet long and as thick as a cucumber.

I grabbed it by its cold, scaly tail and dragged it back to the road.