Mystery at Red Marsh Lake
84 pages
English

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84 pages
English

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Description

Thirteen-year-old Caleb Weybourne is sent to spend the summer with his archaeologist father in the remote town of Chismo in northern Canada, where Professor Weybourne hopes to prove the existence of the Mahkneejosh, the legendary great lake monster of the native Ojibway people. In Chismo, Caleb befriends two Ojibway boys, Isaac and Eli, and a colourful old Ojibway man, Emmett. On a fishing trip to Red Marsh Lake, the boys encounter the violent and dangerous local fugitive, Kibo, and almost lose their lives. During their flight from him, Caleb believes he may have seen the mysterious water monster. In a dramatic showdown, Kibo forces Emmett and the boys into a cave where he dynamites the entrance, trapping them inside. Can they get out in time, or will they end their days as bones for a future excavation team to discover?

Informations

Publié par
Date de parution 24 mai 2019
Nombre de lectures 0
EAN13 9789814868129
Langue English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0400€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

2019 Marshall Cavendish International (Asia) Private Limited
Text Nathanael Reed
Published by Marshall Cavendish Editions
An imprint of Marshall Cavendish International

All rights reserved
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the copyright owner. Requests for permission should be addressed to the Publisher, Marshall Cavendish International (Asia) Private Limited, 1 New Industrial Road, Singapore 536196. Tel: (65) 6213 9300. E-mail: genref@sg.marshallcavendish.com
Website: www.marshallcavendish.com/genref
The publisher makes no representation or warranties with respect to the contents of this book, and specifically disclaims any implied warranties or merchantability or fitness for any particular purpose, and shall in no event be liable for any loss of profit or any other commercial damage, including but not limited to special, incidental, consequential, or other damages.
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National Library Board, Singapore Cataloguing-in-Publication Data
Names: Reed, Nathanael, 1950-
Title: Mystery at Red Marsh Lake / Nathanael Reed.
Description: Singapore : Marshall Cavendish Editions, 2019
Identifiers: OCN 1097223892 | 978-981-4868-12-9 (paperback)
Subjects: LCSH: Criminals--Canada--Juvenile fiction. | Friendship--Canada--Juvenile fiction. | Monsters--Canada--Juvenile fiction.
Classification: DDC 813.6--dc23
Printed in Singapore
Cover illustration by Wong Pei Si
To Hope, Ella, Caleb, Isaac, Willow, Neely, Elijah, Charlotte, and Weston
Prologue
The night outside was pitch black, with nothing to illuminate the wilderness but the dim light from the train s windows. Caleb gazed out into the darkness, forcing his mind away from the hard vinyl seats and the constant lurching. Once again he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the glass. Self-consciously, he reached up and ran his fingers through his blonde, unruly hair. His mom always said that his green-blue eyes were the most expressive she d ever seen - that was until she had upped and walked out on them a few days ago.
Folding his arms across his chest for warmth, he turned his gaze to the passing darkness outside his window. Almost within arm s reach the unending forest flashed by - the tall, dark silhouettes of pine, spruce and birch. A shiver passed through him as he adjusted himself once more on the uncomfortable seat.
Clank-clank. Clank-clank. The ever-present clatter of the train passing over the rails hammered into his brain. Clank-clank. Clank-clank. It had been a day-and-a-half since he d left his home in the city for the wilderness of the north. Thirty-six hours of stopping at every hamlet and outpost, no matter how remote or how small, rattling their way further and further into Canada s deep and inscrutable interior. Now, on this last stage of his journey he found himself a reluctant passenger on this ancient train, with no heat, a squalling baby and no earthly chance of getting any sleep.
He turned and glanced back at the four passengers who had remained with him through the past eight torturous stops. The most obvious of the four were a young, frazzled woman and her discontented baby. The two were seated at the very back of the car, snuggled up in a thick Hudson s Bay blanket, the mother enjoying a temporary lull in her child s persistent protests. Three seats ahead of them was a grey-bearded, grizzled old prospector accompanied by two ancient backpacks, dilapidated suitcase and a single canoe paddle propped up on the seat beside him. The last of Caleb s fellow passengers was a much younger man, stylishly dressed in a navy blazer and a thin black tie - probably a government official or a salesman from the big city.
Barely had Caleb turned his attention from his four companions when the baby awoke and began wailing at the top of her voice. He groaned. How could one small child keep crying for so long? Several hours ago Caleb had asked the conductor if he might switch cars. The next car, he was told, was off limits, filled with supplies destined for the general store in Chismo - the town to which Caleb was headed and the train s last stop.
Now Caleb turned in his seat, searching for the elusive conductor. Where had he disappeared to? In fact, Caleb was sure the man hadn t made an appearance since punching their tickets several hours earlier. He was probably back in the caboose sound asleep.
It was no use. If he continued to sit and listen to the crying baby for one more minute, he would totally lose it. His nerves were beyond frayed. Quickly he slid from his seat, no longer caring how upset the conductor might be, made his way to the front exit and crossed over to the neighboring car. For a few minutes of peace he would just take his chances. It was packed with supplies and colder than a refrigerator, but at least it would be quiet.
He stepped into the darkened car and gently closed the door behind him. The distant moon shining through the car s windows provided the only light. Caleb felt his way down the aisle until he came to a seat without any boxes or parcels, then sagged gratefully into it. He closed his eyes, tucked himself into his fleece-lined jacket and got as comfortable as he could as a deep sense of weariness washed over him. The quiet of the car felt wonderfully luxurious. Just a few more hours and his long journey would be over. He could feel his heart rate ease and his breathing slowly settle.
It was then, just as sleep was edging its way into his exhausted brain that an unusual sound stirred him back to consciousness - a faint, rustling sound emanating from somewhere in the darkness ahead of him. He sat completely still for a long minute, not even daring to breathe, every sense now on high alert. Was it the conductor? Instinctively he cleared his throat, and immediately regretted it, for an even deeper silence now seemed to fill the car.
A shadowy shape slowly emerged from among the boxes and crates across the aisle from him. He could feel his own breath catch as the strange, ghostly figure hovered briefly before him in the blackness, then in the next instant it was upon him - a large rough hand clamping down hard over his mouth.
For several terrifying seconds the face remained only inches from his own, barely distinguishable in the dim moonlight. Even so, Caleb could see that the man s features were dark and angular, with a wide nose and a razor-thin mouth. Long, stringy black hair fell down around his face, hanging almost to his eyes.
Say one word and I ll snap your neck like a chicken s. The hand slid from Caleb s mouth and the man moved his face even closer to Caleb, his cigarette breath wafting over him. It was then that Caleb saw the feature he would never forget - one of the man s eyes was milky white, lifeless, yet somehow penetrating at the same time.
Get out of this car right now, the man whispered.
He reached out, grabbed Caleb by the front of his jacket and hauled him to his feet. If you tell anyone I m here, I ll look for you and find you, and when I find you, I ll bury you so deep they won t uncover your bones for a hundred years.
One
Caleb stumbled down the aisle, groping clumsily for the handle of the door and scrambled back to his former seat.
What on earth was that man doing up there anyway? Did the conductor know he had a stowaway on board his precious train? Caleb s mind grasped for anything that might help explain what had just happened. Was it possible that the man was joking, having a good laugh at how he had scared the city boy half to death? He shuddered. Not a chance. That guy had meant every word he said - and then some.
Caleb turned and glanced back at the other passengers. All of them now seemed fast asleep, even the baby. He sat there in the stillness, collecting his thoughts, settling his heart rate and calming his jangled nerves. He pulled up the collar of his jacket and leaned back against the window, knowing sleep would be a long time coming. He glanced down at his watch. 4:30 a.m. The train was due to arrive in Chismo at 8:00 a.m. - a long, mind-numbing three-and-a-half hours from now.
Chismo. What kind of village was his dad calling home for the summer anyway? Judging from the villages they had been passing through, he suspected that Chismo wouldn t leave him overwhelmed by its amenities. His dad had already warned him that the town was really small, without even a road connecting it to the outside world - just this one solitary rail line. And a good many of the people who lived there were Ojibway.
Thoughts of his dad made Caleb s blood pressure rise. Professor Weston Weybourne was an anthropology professor who had never let his family get in the way of his four-month-long excursions into the middle of nowhere every summer. Excavating the relics of ancient civilizations meant him having to spend long weeks out in the field, and that was an unfortunate part of his dad s job. Caleb knew his mom had never gotten used to him being away so much, and this summer s expedition had been the final straw. A few days before his dad left for the north, his mom packed up her things and moved across town to live with her sister. Caleb, of course, had been dragged along, sleeping on his aunt s lumpy couch in her cramped, cat-filled apartment. In a fit of desperation, he d come up with the brainwave of spending the summer with his dad, an i

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