Read Online Then There Were Five by Elizabeth Enright - Free Book Online

tree stump trimmed with fungus the color of tangerine peel. They saw a live walking stick, and some tiny orange lizards (efts, Mark said), and an owl sitting dazed on a branch. Between the damp, shaded roots of the trees there were mosses: cup moss and sealing wax; and on the boulders flat lichens were pressed in faded gray rosettes. They saw red toadstools, and yellow, and speckled, and flocks of little silver ones all crowded together. In the middle of a small clearing stood a solitary, exquisite white one, with a lining of palest pink.
    â€œThat’s an amanita,” Mark said almost in a whisper. “The destroying angel, they call it. One bite of that and you die in agony.”
    â€œGee whiz,” said Randy.
    â€œYou know a lot about things in the woods. Names and all,” said Rush. “I wish you’d teach me some of them.”
    Mark was pleased. “I bet I don’t pronounce ’em right, though. Sometimes when we go to Carthage I get a chance to go to the liberry; and Miss Schmidlapp, our teacher in school, told us about some of these things, and Oren’s wife taught me a lot. But I still don’t know more than a tiny little bit.”
    Finally they came out of the woods.
    Just below the crest of the hill there was a barren stratum of sandstone, pitted with cliff swallows’ caves, holes and pockmarks.
    â€œLook out for snakes,” Mark said. “There’s rattlers around here.” Seeing Randy’s face, he added hastily, “But they’re only puny ones, and awful shy besides.”
    Nevertheless Randy, and even Rush, stepped a little gingerly for the next five or ten minutes. After that they forgot about snakes.
    The sandstone pockets were fascinating to explore. In some they found tiny paw prints, gnawed chokecherry pits, every evidence of small housekeeping but no sight of the housekeepers. In others, the highest ones, there were swallows’ nests, many of them empty, since it was late in the season, but a few occupied by wide-mouthed fledglings or groups of eggs. Above, in the bright air, the parent swallows swooped in knife-sharp arcs and cried in fury and alarm.
    â€œLet’s leave the poor things alone,” Mark said. “The arrowheads I found were mostly down below this cliff. Down among the loose rocks and sand that have chipped off during the years.”
    The spare grass was dry and scratchy there, and sandburs grew among the rubble. The mounting sun became stronger; it beat against the rocks. Drops of sweat rolled down Randy’s forehead and dropped off, but she didn’t mind. Poking with a stick among the pebbles and rocks she was as happy as an old gypsy on a trash heap.
    And it was Randy who found the first arrowhead. The only one that day.
    In a pleasant daze of heat and mild fatigue, she had been moving slowly along, not even poking, droning a tune without any words, and thinking about the sandwiches in the lunch basket. And suddenly there it was. Just lying there between the vervain flowers, sharp and definite as though printed on the rock. Randy had the feeling that she had been looking at it for several seconds without seeing it, and for a moment, now, she just stared at it without saying anything. Had she discovered a pigeonblood ruby, an amulet in the shape of Osiris, the diamond ring of an Infanta, she could not have been more stunned with joy.
    When she spoke it was very quietly.
    â€œI found one. I found an arrowhead. Gee whiz.”
    â€œGood for you!” said Mark.
    â€œSwell!” said Rush.
    They hurried over to see. There it lay in the palm of her hand, clear-cut and shining. It felt cool against her skin, and in the sunlight it glittered like sugar.
    â€œWhite flint, and a beauty,” Mark said. “A good-sized one, too.”
    â€œGolly, that’s neat, Ran.” Rush was nearly as pleased as she. “Come on, kids, let’s see if we can’t find some more.”
    He and Mark