The Werewolf of Fever Swamp

13

"Quick — hide!" I cried.

Will dived behind a thick clump of tall weeds. I tried to follow him, but there wasn't room for both of us.

Crawling on my hands and knees, I searched frantically for something to hide behind.

The crackling of dead leaves became louder. The footsteps hurried closer.

I scrambled toward a nest of brambles. No. They wouldn't hide me.

A clump of ferns across from me was too low.

The footsteps crackled closer.

Closer.

"Hide! Hide!" Will urged.

But I was trapped out in the open. Caught.

I struggled to my feet just as our pursuer came into view.

"Wolf!" I cried.

The big dog's tail began wagging furiously as soon as he saw me. He uttered a joyful bark — and jumped.

"No!" I managed to cry.

His front paws landed hard on my chest. I stumbled backwards into the tall weeds and fell onto Will.

"Hey!" He cried out and scrambled to his feet.

Wolf barked happily and practically smothered me, trying to lick my face.

"Wolf — down! Down!" I shouted. I stood up and started brushing dead leaves off my T-shirt. "Wolf, you've got to stop doing that, boy," I told him. "You're not a little puppy, you know?"

"How did he find us?" Will asked, pulling a burr off the seat of his blue Lycra shorts.

"Good nose, I guess," I replied, staring down at the happily panting dog. "Maybe he's part hunting dog or something."

"Let's get to the bog," Will said impatiently. He began leading the way, but Wolf pushed past him, nearly bumping him over, and continued trotting toward the bog, his powerful legs taking long, steady strides.

"Wolf acts as if he knows where we're going," I said, a little surprised.

"Maybe he's been here before," Will replied. "Maybe he's a swamp dog."

"Maybe," I replied thoughtfully, staring down at Wolf. Where do you come from, dog? I wondered. He certainly did seem at home in the swamp.

In a short while, we came to the edge of the peat bog. I wiped the sweat off my forehead with the back of my hand and stared across the oval-shaped pond.

Shafts of sunlight made the green surface sparkle. Thousands of tiny white insects fluttered just above it, catching the light, glistening like little diamonds.

Will picked up a small tree branch. He cracked it in half between his hands. Then he heaved one of the halves high into the air.

It hit the surface of the bog with more of a thunk than a splash. And then it just lay there. It didn't sink.

"Weird," I said. "Let's try something heavier."

I started to search for something, but a low growl caught my attention. I turned toward the sound. To my surprise, it was coming from Wolf.

The dog had lowered its big head. Its entire body stood tensed, as if in attack position. Its dark lips were pulled back, revealing two sharp rows of teeth. It uttered a low growl, then another.

"I think he senses danger," Will said softly.