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Don
’
t
!
Douglas
gasped
.
But
Tom
and
Dad
bent
down
to
shove
their
hands
deep
in
rattling
bush
.
The
spell
was
shattered
.
The
terrible
prowler
,
the
magnificent
runner
,
the
leaper
,
the
shaker
of
souls
,
vanished
.
Douglas
,
lost
and
empty
,
fell
to
his
knees
.
He
saw
his
fingers
sink
through
green
shadow
and
come
forth
stained
with
such
color
that
it
seemed
he
had
somehow
cut
the
forest
and
delved
his
hand
in
the
open
wound
.
"
Lunch
time
,
boys
!
With
buckets
half
burdened
with
fox
grapes
and
wild
strawberries
,
followed
by
bees
which
were
,
no
more
,
no
less
,
said
Father
,
the
world
humming
under
its
breath
,
they
sat
on
a
green
-
mossed
log
,
chewing
sandwiches
and
trying
to
listen
to
the
forest
the
same
way
Father
did
.
Douglas
felt
Dad
watching
him
,
quietly
amused
.
Dad
started
to
say
something
that
had
crossed
his
mind
,
but
instead
tried
another
bite
of
sandwich
and
mused
over
it
.
"
Sandwich
outdoors
isn
’
t
a
sandwich
anymore
.
Tastes
different
than
indoors
,
notice
?
Got
more
spice
.
Tastes
like
mint
and
pinesap
.
Does
wonders
for
the
appetite
.
"
Douglas
’
s
tongue
hesitated
on
the
texture
of
bread
and
deviled
ham
.
No
.
.
.
no
.
.
.
it
was
just
a
sandwich
.
Tom
chewed
and
nodded
.
"
Know
just
what
you
mean
,
Dad
!
"
It
almost
happened
,
thought
Douglas
.
Whatever
it
was
it
was
Big
,
my
gosh
,
it
was
Big
!
Something
scared
it
off
.
Where
is
it
now
?
Back
of
that
bush
!
No
,
behind
me
!
No
here
.
.
.
almost
here
.
.
.
He
kneeded
his
stomach
secretly
.
If
I
wait
,
it
’
ll
come
back
.
It
won
’
t
hurt
;
somehow
I
know
it
’
s
not
here
to
hurt
me
.
What
then
?
What
?
What
?
