CHAPTER SIX

He must have drifted into sleep eventually, Lucky realized, because the Sun-Dog had bounded high into the sky by the time his eyes next blinked open. Rising and stretching gratefully, he gave himself a huge shake. His fur was dry at last, and he felt both warmer and much better.

The rest of the Pack was a little way down the hill, excitedly dashing along the river’s new banks, sniffing at the water. Lucky stared. The river’s overflow had become a lake. It had subsided quite a bit from its high point in the night, and now shone silver in the sunlight, lapping peacefully at the grass and tree trunks it had flooded.

Spotting him, Daisy barked a joyful “Good morning!” and bounded up the hill to jump and nip at his muzzle.

“Come and see, Lucky. You won’t believe what we’ve found!”

“What is it, Daisy?” He could hear the fondness in his own voice. He was glad the little white dog was happy again. She trotted down the slope ahead of him, tail wagging, and for a moment Lucky thought with alarm that she was going to plunge straight into the river. But she stopped right on its new edge, where it had eaten away the bank, and turned to face him again, panting happily.

Lucky peered past her, puzzled. “What is it?”

Bruno padded to his shoulder. “No, Lucky—there. Beneath the bank. The river must have washed away some loose earth. And look what it has uncovered!”

Still doubtful, Lucky dropped carefully to a flat patch of sand. He looked closer. Bruno was right—the rising water had washed away rocks, roots, and soil, revealing deep caves in the rock.

“That is amazing.” Lucky padded closer, sniffing at the great holes. They looked as if a gigantic dog had scooped them out of the high bank. Lucky frowned, thinking this must have been a very careful dog, because all the holes looked the same. Each one was as high as a fully grown longpaw, and the walls inside were of smooth stone, dry and clean and . . .

Unnatural.

His flanks tingled as memories drifted through his mind. Uncomfortable memories of rooms in the Trap House—long cold-rooms between the cage-rooms—but these caves were smaller, and of course there were no cages inside them.

They did look like excellent shelters. . . .

“The River-Dog must have done this,” announced Martha. “He wasn’t angry last night at all. He answered us, and dug these holes for us to hide in. Your idea worked, Mickey!”

“Thanks to you, Martha,” he said a little shyly.

“We asked the River-Dog for clean water,” said Sunshine, “and he’s given us that, too!”

Lucky cocked his head in surprise as he watched Bruno stride to the water’s edge. He dipped his head toward the water, gulping happily. Then he raised his dripping muzzle to look proudly at him.

“Are you sure?” Hesitantly Lucky padded forward and sniffed. “It does smell a bit better,” he agreed. But he wasn’t sure the river was entirely pure yet. There was a lot more water after the storm, and it had spread. Maybe the poison was hiding, preparing to come back and strike them later?