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Excerpts

CHAPTER 1

Cries in the Night

A-ROOOOO! Above the wind -- a howling, like a wolf baying at the moon! I shot up in my bed, listening. A-ROOOOO! There it was again!

When a dog yowls at night, someone is going to die. Shaking, I put my bare feet on the cold floor and headed for my older brother Erik's room and then decided against it. "This is 1965," he'd say. "Don't tell me you still believe those old Newfoundland pishogues, Jessie. They're silly superstitions."

A-ROOOOO! This time the howl turned into a bark, and I knew it was Blizzard, our Newfoundland dog. We sometimes let Blizzard stay outside at night, curled up with his tail around his nose.

"Jessie Wheller!" Dad called. "Shut your dog up! His barking is waking us."

"Yeah! We're trying to sleep," Erik groaned from his room.

"I'll bring him in, Dad," I answered. I lit the lantern on the bedroom table and tiptoed down the stairs, carrying the light ahead of me. Long shadows fluttered around on the walls and floor from the flame inside the lamp. Blizzard yowled again. Why was he crying like that? I asked myself. Something had to be wrong.

Blizzard must have known I was coming because he was scratching and pawing the door. I yanked the handle and nearly fell backward as the door gave way to the wind. The porch was piled with drifts of snow. "Come on in, Blizzard," I said. I held up the lantern and Blizzard's eyes glistened at me. He was standing with a worried look on his face, and his head tilted quizzically. "Come in, boy," I said again.

But my dog headed down the steps and into the deeper snow. He looked back at me again and barked anxiously.

"What's the matter?"

Blizzard wagged his long, wet tail and started off toward the meadow -- stopping, looking back, and then barking again.

"Stop that!" I yelled. "Get back in here."

Blizzard sat down right where he was, held his head up high, and yowled. He wanted me to follow him for some reason. But I wasn't about to go out into a snowstorm dressed only in my nightgown. I went back inside to change into warm clothes.

Should I tell Dad where I'm going? I wondered. No. Dad had worked hauling wood all day, and I knew he was right tired. And Mom would make me stay in and wait until morning.

I dressed quickly, and then, remembering the new flashlights my cousin Sandra had sent me from the States, I took one from the drawer and turned it on.

Once downstairs I pulled on my boots, then headed out into the storm. "Now, what is it that has you all afire?" I asked Blizzard, who was waiting nervously.

Leaping and struggling in the drifts, he headed toward the east. Where was he going? There was nothing out there. I followed him, pulling my scarf up over my nose to keep the spattering snow from stinging my face. Suddenly I stopped dead in my tracks. Blizzard was leading me to the edge of Devil's Head, the rocky crag that plunged three hundred feet or more to the sea.

"No! Come back, Blizzard!" I yelled frantically.

Blizzard turned and raced back to me. Tugging the sleeve of my jacket with his teeth, he dragged me closer to the edge.

"Help! Help!" cried voices from far below the precipice. Except for the chute, a narrow, dangerous trail, the cliff was a wall of sheer rock. Who could be down there on this stormy night?

I flashed my light on Blizzard, who continued to bark wildly at the rim of the chasm.

Cautiously, I moved closer. "Hello!" I yelled. "Who's there?"

"Help us!" a man called from below. "We're shipwrecked. And we're freezing!"

"Is there a path we can climb?" came another voice.

"It's too dangerous!" I flashed the light down the rocky wall, and I could make out people at the bottom of the cliff. "I'll get help. How many of you?"

"Three!"

"I'll bring my father and brother!" I yelled.

"Hurry!" came the response. "The tide's coming in. We can't last much longer."

"There's a cave just above you on that rocky trail!" I screamed over the roaring of the wind. "Try to get into the cave!" I flashed the light at the cave opening, which was several feet above the shoreline where the group was huddled.

"We see it! Please! Get help quickly, or we'll die!"

I turned to rush back for help, slipping and sliding in my struggle through the deepening snow. Blizzard hesitated to leave the voices at first, but then he came running and was soon ahead of me, barking as he leaped through the drifts.

"Oh, please, God," I prayed breathlessly. "Help us to get back in time to save those people."

Copyright © 2009 by Joan Hiatt Harlow