chapter 8

Surprise at the Campsite

The campsite became home right away. They chose an enclosed, protected nook that was tucked under a low-hanging evergreen, near a freshwater lagoon. Old pine needles formed a kind of screen on three sides. Made with dried grasses and sweet-scented leaves of bayberry and juniper, the beds were soft and comfortable. Lily found an oyster shell and dragged it over to the site, and they filled it with the seeds, berries, and other fruits they gathered. Twig was delighted to discover sassafras trees growing nearby.

Basil was back to normal. Fresh food, and being back on dry land, had restored his health. Lily kept busy, picking berries and keeping Char company, but Twig noticed she was looking pensive and distracted at times. “I think we should have a meeting,” he declared. “And decide what we’re doing next.”

Lily looked relieved. “Good idea, Twig.” She pulled some large leaves into a circle for their powwow.

“Okay,” Twig began. “First of all, I think we . . .” He stopped. They heard a rustling in the underbrush behind them.

Basil gulped. “Did you hear that?”

Twig glanced around. “Yeah.”

“Me too,” Lily whispered. “What was it?”

The air was silent, except for a slight breeze whooshing through the bayberry branches.

Twig listened for a moment, then continued. “Like I was saying, I think we should start to . . .”

They heard the rustling again, closer this time.

Lily pointed to a dark area of ferns and fallen pine needles. “There!”

Several sets of eyes were peering at them from the shadows.

“Run!” Twig shouted. “Char! Follow us!” The trio took off toward the lagoon, Char fluttering his wings alongside them. They slogged through the shallows, hopping from sand bar to sand bar, and along fallen branches, and sliding across patches of slippery rotting leaves.

They heard splashing behind them as their pursuers chased them through the dark water. “Don’t look back!” Lily squeaked. “Just go!”

They reached the opposite side of the shallow lagoon. A wild tangle of greenbrier vines faced them. Thick and nearly impenetrable, the vines were covered with sharp thorns. The thorns snagged and tore at them as they dug their way through the leafy tangle.

Suddenly Char snorted in pain as one of his velvety wings was cut by a series of thorns. He stopped, gingerly fluttering the wounded wing.

“Char!” Lily shouted, frozen in her tracks.

Twig stopped and turned. Char was definitely wounded. But the ripping and tearing of vegetation behind them got louder. “Come on, Char!” he begged.

Basil, panicked, pushed aside the stabbing briars and scrambled up a stunted pine.

The three friends froze in terror as the loud crashing got closer.

Suddenly the crashing stopped. Twig closed his eyes, preparing for the worst. He heard panting and snorting. He opened one eye.

There, looking at them, were several baby dragons!