The Secret of the Swamp King by Jonathan Rogers Page B

Aidan, surprised. “When did Maynard ever come to the library?”
    â€œOh, he and I spent many evenings in here reading together after you went to Tambluff,” said Jasper.
    Aidan was floored. “I just never knew Maynard to be interested in the old lore or in anything the rest of us were interested in. What sort of thing did he read?”
    â€œFeechie tales mostly.” Jasper gave up looking for the scroll of feechie lore, which obviously wasn’t in its place. He noticed the look of open-mouthed wonder on Aidan’s face. “I know, I know. Maynard always thought you were lying about the feechie in the bottom pasture.He acted like feechie talk was the craziest thing he had ever heard of. But people can change.
    â€œAfter you went to Tambluff,” Jasper continued, “Maynard tried harder to be a good son and a good brother. He even took your place watching sheep in the bottom pasture for awhile. It was like he was trying to make something up to you, or to Father.”
    Jasper shook his head. “I think that’s part of the reason Father has taken Maynard’s death so hard.”
    Aidan looked out the window. Father was returning from the melon field with Percy. He looked very old. “Poor Father,” Aidan whispered.

Chapter Eight
River Run
    The morning sky was still pink with the sun’s first rays when the alligator hunters boarded their raft. A night’s rest in real beds had rejuvenated them, and they were eager to take on the river again. The previous day’s difficulties seemed a distant dream.
    Besides, they now had an extra rafthand. They had convinced Aidan to float with them to the Big Bend. They would need him, for they had another oar-sweep now. Carver, besides replacing the broken oar-sweep, had carved them a second one and built another oar bench in the front of the raft. It would make the raft more maneuverable, but it also meant they could use an extra pair of hands. For his part, Aidan couldn’t resist the adventure of a raft trip down the river, even if he could get to Last Camp more quickly on the Overland Trail. Besides, he liked the alligator hunters, and he preferred not to travel alone if he didn’t have to.
    Errol rode down to the landing with Percy and Jasper to see his youngest son off. He didn’t say much. The only smile he could muster looked tired and sad. Somehow he sensed that Aidan’s journey was to be much more perilous than he had let on. When everythingwas in order, just before Aidan stepped onto the raft, Errol caught him by the tunic and enfolded him in his arms. The strength of his father’s embrace nearly squeezed the breath out of Aidan. There was plenty of life left in the old man, despite his haggard, world-weary appearance. That knowledge heartened Aidan and strengthened him for his journey.
    â€œGod go with you, Aidan,” said Errol. “And be careful.” Then, where no one else could hear, he whispered, “I couldn’t bear to lose another son.”
    Aidan embraced his brothers and exchanged farewells. Jasper handed him a small cage containing one of his homing pigeons. “Take this with you,” he said, “and send us a note when you get where you’re going.” Aidan knew he wouldn’t be taking a pigeon into the Feechiefen, but he took the bird with the intention of sending his family a note from Last Camp.
    Aidan joined Massey and Floyd on the raft. Jasper and Percy untied the heavy mooring ropes from the cypress trees and tossed them onto the raft timbers. The alligator hunters leaned against the sweeps, pushing off from the landing, and Aidan felt the Tam’s strong, slow current catch the timbers and carry him away—away from the safety of his father’s house, toward a wilderness that would never be tamed, a wilderness that nobody came home from. He watched his father and brothers get smaller in the growing distance. Then he raised his hand in a