Free The Secret of Sentinel Rock by Judith Silverthorne Page A

on,” said Emma. “Now I can introduce you to the rest of my family. You’ve already seen Grandma and Geordie. He’s named after my dad.”
    “Where are they?”
    “Oh, Granny is probably collecting eggs and feeding the chickens. She’s partial to them. She says ‘if you treat them well, they’ll lay better for you.’ It’s worked so far.” Emma laughed. “Geordie’s probably gone fishing, or getting into trouble somewhere.”
    They ducked under the rope clothesline where the laundry was flapping in the wind between two trees, and followed a narrow trail through some scraggly bush. In the clearing ahead Emily could see a man struggling behind a plough and oxen, his shaggy grey hair matted to his neck under his ­wide-­brimmed hat, and a much younger man tugging on the harness of the balking pair of animals. Sweat was pouring off both the men and the huge beasts. The oxen switched their tails frantically to keep the clusters of mosquitoes and flies off their ­bodies.
    “There’s my dad, working up some new land. That’s Sandy wrestling with the oxen. He’s the oldest of us kids. And there’s Duncan and Jack.” She pointed to two figures at the bottom of the field, one wielding an axe, the other dragging roots over to a pile at the edge of the ­clearing.
    The girls stood watching the scene for a few moments. Emily wiped the sweat from her own forehead and swatted at little flies. How could they work in this heat and with all these bugs? She could hardly stand it, especially when the grasshoppers suddenly whirred and flew up at her. They reminded her of the summer she’d ridden her bike frantically to the potato patch every day with her eyes closed most of the time, while surges of the leaping insects pelted her from all ­directions.
    All at once they heard some loud bellowing from the oxen. The men shouted to each other through the din. Emma’s dad was yanking on the reins, while Sandy used a switch to try to keep the oxen from dashing off. But there was no stopping the animals. They jerked the reins out of the men’s hands. Duncan and Jack came racing up the field, yelling and waving their arms to head them off, but the cattle made right for a nearby slough, dragging the plough behind them. They didn’t halt until they were standing belly deep in the water, where they drank their fill between ­bellows.
    Emily heard a great deal more cussing from the men, as they discussed how to retrieve the oxen and plough, but by the time the girls arrived at the banks of the slough the men were laughing. Duncan and Jack had waded into the water and were splashing each other, while Sandy was yanking on the harness, trying to persuade the animals to come back to shore. Emma’s dad was leaning against a tree swatting at the horseflies with his shirt, which he had removed moments before. His face was creased with streaks of dirt and ­moisture.
    “Hello, lass. You’ve come at a good time,” he said in a thick marbly voice as they approached. A stocky, muscular man with red streaks in his greying beard, he gave Emma a wide grin, and Emily could see how Geordie resembled him. “Drat those oxen. They’ll not get the better of me and my boys,” he laughed, as he shook his fist at ­them.
    He appeared not to see Emily, and she was glad he couldn’t. She and Emma would have a great deal of explaining to do. Besides, it was kind of fun being invisible to ­people.
    Plunging the dipper into the pail of water, Emma’s dad took a long drink, and poured the rest over his bare head. Then Emma gave him his hat, which had flown off in the chase. By now Sandy had the oxen up on the bank, and the others were walking over for a drink of water from the pail Emma had ­brought.
    Sandy was laughing as he joined them. “That was quite a tussle. Did you see how determined they were?”
    Emily clutched her sides with laughter as he acted out the scene again, exaggerating the movements of everyone chasing after the runaway