Read Online My Hairiest Adventure by R. L. Stine - Free Book Online
Authors: R. L. Stine
Tags: Children's Books.3-5
Ads: Link
the woods, pushing my way through clumps of tall, dead
weeds.
I stopped.
It has to be around here, I knew. My eyes desperately searched the shadows.
There it is. No. Just a smooth stone.
I kicked it away. Then I turned slowly, making a complete circle, my eyes
sweeping the dark ground.
Where is the bottle? Where?
I sucked in my breath when I heard the sound.
The crack of a twig.
I listened hard. I heard the crackle of leaves. The brush of a leg against a
winter-dry shrub.
Another twig cracking.
Swallowing hard, I realized I was no longer alone.
“Wh-who’s there?” I called.
19
“Who’s there?”
No reply.
Frozen as still as a statue, I listened. I heard the scrape of feet moving
rapidly over the ground. I heard heavy breathing.
“Hey—who is it?” I called.
I glanced down—and saw the bottle. Lying on its side, nestled in a pile of
leaves right in front of me.
I bent quickly, reached eagerly for the bottle with both hands. But I jerked
back up to my feet in fright as a dark figure lumbered out from the trees.
Panting hard. Its long tongue flapping from its open mouth.
A tall, brown dog. Even in the dim light, I could see how scraggly and
tangled its fur was. I could see large burrs stuck in its heaving side.
I took a step back. “Are you alone, boy?” I called in a frightened whisper. “Huh? Are you alone, doggie?”
The animal lowered its head and let out a whimper.
I searched the woods for other dogs. Was he part of a pack? Part of the pack
of stray dogs that liked to chase me, growling and snapping?
I didn’t see any others.
“Good dog,” I told him, keeping my voice low and calm. “Good doggie.”
He stared up at me, still panting. His scraggly, brown tail wagged once, then
drooped.
I bent slowly, keeping my eyes on the dog, and picked up the bottle. It felt
surprisingly cold. I held it up and tried to see if any of the liquid remained
inside.
But it was too dark to see.
I’m pretty sure I didn’t use every last drop, I thought, struggling to
remember. There has to be a little left. Enough for Dr. Murkin to test.
I shook the bottle close to my ear, listening for the splash of liquid
inside. Please, please, let there be a drop left! I pleaded silently.
The trees shivered in a sharp, swirling gust. Leaves rustled and scraped
against each other.
The dog let out another soft whimper.
I grasped the bottle tightly in my right hand and started to back away.
“Bye-bye, doggie.”
He tilted his head and stared up at me.
I took another step back. “Bye, doggie,” I repeated softly. “Go home. Go
home, boy.”
He didn’t move. He let out another whimper. Then his tail began to wag.
I took another step back, grasping the INSTA-TAN bottle tightly. Then, as I
started to turn away from the staring dog, I saw the others.
They poked out quickly, silently, from the dark trees. Five or six big dogs,
their eyes glowing angrily. Then five or six more.
As they lumbered nearer, moving quickly, steadily, I could hear their growls,
low and menacing. They pulled back their lips and bared their teeth.
I froze, staring in terror at their darkly glowing eyes, listening to their
menacing, low growls.
Then I spun around awkwardly. Started to run.
“Ohh!” I let out a shrill cry as I stumbled over a fallen tree branch.
The bottle flew out of my hand.
As I fell, I reached out for it, grasping desperately.
Missed.
I watched in horror as it hit a sharp rock—and shattered. The jagged pieces
flew in all directions. A tiny puddle of brown liquid washed over the rock.
I landed hard on my knees and elbows. Pain shot through my body. But I
ignored it and scrambled to my feet.
I whirled around to face the dogs.
But to my surprise, they were running in a different direction. Through the
trees, I glimpsed a frightened rabbit, scrabbling over the leafy ground. Barking
and growling, the dogs chased after it.
My heart pounding, my knees still throbbing, I
weeds.
I stopped.
It has to be around here, I knew. My eyes desperately searched the shadows.
There it is. No. Just a smooth stone.
I kicked it away. Then I turned slowly, making a complete circle, my eyes
sweeping the dark ground.
Where is the bottle? Where?
I sucked in my breath when I heard the sound.
The crack of a twig.
I listened hard. I heard the crackle of leaves. The brush of a leg against a
winter-dry shrub.
Another twig cracking.
Swallowing hard, I realized I was no longer alone.
“Wh-who’s there?” I called.
19
“Who’s there?”
No reply.
Frozen as still as a statue, I listened. I heard the scrape of feet moving
rapidly over the ground. I heard heavy breathing.
“Hey—who is it?” I called.
I glanced down—and saw the bottle. Lying on its side, nestled in a pile of
leaves right in front of me.
I bent quickly, reached eagerly for the bottle with both hands. But I jerked
back up to my feet in fright as a dark figure lumbered out from the trees.
Panting hard. Its long tongue flapping from its open mouth.
A tall, brown dog. Even in the dim light, I could see how scraggly and
tangled its fur was. I could see large burrs stuck in its heaving side.
I took a step back. “Are you alone, boy?” I called in a frightened whisper. “Huh? Are you alone, doggie?”
The animal lowered its head and let out a whimper.
I searched the woods for other dogs. Was he part of a pack? Part of the pack
of stray dogs that liked to chase me, growling and snapping?
I didn’t see any others.
“Good dog,” I told him, keeping my voice low and calm. “Good doggie.”
He stared up at me, still panting. His scraggly, brown tail wagged once, then
drooped.
I bent slowly, keeping my eyes on the dog, and picked up the bottle. It felt
surprisingly cold. I held it up and tried to see if any of the liquid remained
inside.
But it was too dark to see.
I’m pretty sure I didn’t use every last drop, I thought, struggling to
remember. There has to be a little left. Enough for Dr. Murkin to test.
I shook the bottle close to my ear, listening for the splash of liquid
inside. Please, please, let there be a drop left! I pleaded silently.
The trees shivered in a sharp, swirling gust. Leaves rustled and scraped
against each other.
The dog let out another soft whimper.
I grasped the bottle tightly in my right hand and started to back away.
“Bye-bye, doggie.”
He tilted his head and stared up at me.
I took another step back. “Bye, doggie,” I repeated softly. “Go home. Go
home, boy.”
He didn’t move. He let out another whimper. Then his tail began to wag.
I took another step back, grasping the INSTA-TAN bottle tightly. Then, as I
started to turn away from the staring dog, I saw the others.
They poked out quickly, silently, from the dark trees. Five or six big dogs,
their eyes glowing angrily. Then five or six more.
As they lumbered nearer, moving quickly, steadily, I could hear their growls,
low and menacing. They pulled back their lips and bared their teeth.
I froze, staring in terror at their darkly glowing eyes, listening to their
menacing, low growls.
Then I spun around awkwardly. Started to run.
“Ohh!” I let out a shrill cry as I stumbled over a fallen tree branch.
The bottle flew out of my hand.
As I fell, I reached out for it, grasping desperately.
Missed.
I watched in horror as it hit a sharp rock—and shattered. The jagged pieces
flew in all directions. A tiny puddle of brown liquid washed over the rock.
I landed hard on my knees and elbows. Pain shot through my body. But I
ignored it and scrambled to my feet.
I whirled around to face the dogs.
But to my surprise, they were running in a different direction. Through the
trees, I glimpsed a frightened rabbit, scrabbling over the leafy ground. Barking
and growling, the dogs chased after it.
My heart pounding, my knees still throbbing, I
Similar Books
