Boxcar Children 61 - Growling Bear Mystery by Charles Tang, Gertrude Chandler Warner
Authors: Charles Tang, Gertrude Chandler Warner
Ads: Link
CHAPTER 1
On Top of the World
T he four Alden children posed for a picture in front of a log sign. The sign was tall, even taller than Henry, the oldest of the children.
The youngest Alden, six-year-old Benny, sandwiched himself between his two older sisters, Jessie and Violet. He smiled for his grandfather’s camera. “Cheese and crackers,” Benny said, breaking into a grin.
“Hold those smiles,” Mr. Alden called out. “I just ran out of film. Stay for a minute while I reload.”
Jessie said to Henry, Violet, and Benny, “Let’s move aside so these other tourists can take pictures in front of the sign, too.”
Benny asked Jessie, “Why does everybody stop here to get pictures taken?”
Jessie was always full of information. “Well, Benny,” she began, “we’re standing on the Continental Divide. It runs along the top of the Rocky Mountains. On one side of the Divide, streams and rivers flow west to the Pacific Ocean. On the other side, they go east toward the Atlantic Ocean. The Continental Divide is famous. That’s why people have their pictures taken here.”
Benny squinted at the log sign. “I get it. If I pour my water bottle out right here, half the water will go one way, and the other half will go the other way.”
“Why don’t you try it and find out,” Henry suggested.
Benny poured his water bottle onto the dry ground. “Hey, all my water disappeared into the ground!” he complained. “Which ocean would I go to if I rolled down this mountain?”
“I wouldn’t try that, Benny,” Violet said. “This mountain is pretty steep. My ears have been popping ever since we got off the plane.”
Mr. Alden noticed that Benny was getting restless. He knew his grandson always wanted to get wherever they were going. “Hang on, Benny. We’ll be in Yellowstone National Park shortly. Mrs. McGregor said she wants us to bring back plenty of snapshots from our trip. Let’s stretch our legs a bit until it’s our turn for pictures again.”
The Aldens strolled to the edge of the lookout where they were parked. In front of them, the Rocky Mountains stretched in every direction.
Violet took a deep breath of air. “I love the smell of all these trees. I never saw such tall, skinny ones before.”
Benny wanted to be walking through the trees, not sniffing them. “I wish we could try out our new hiking boots right now on this big mountain.”
Henry gave Benny a friendly punch in the arm. “No chance of that. There’s a chain across the trail. See the sign?”
“Lost Cabin Trails Closed,” Benny said, proud that he could read every word.
Mr. Alden came over to see what Benny was talking about. “What do you know! This is the end of a trail I hiked with my own grandfather when I visited Yellowstone as a boy. We never made it this far, though. I wonder why the trails are closed.”
“Maybe they’re not.” Henry pointed down the dirt path. “Look below. There’s a backpacker climbing up this way. See? He’s wearing a bright orange hat.”
The Aldens peeked over the edge to see who Henry was talking about.
Mr. Alden removed his sunglasses to get a better look. “I’d like to have a chat with the fellow and find out what’s going on with these trails. I’d give anything to go down a ways. I wonder if we’re anywhere near the famous lost cabin.”
Violet was curious, too. “What lost cabin, Grandfather?”
“Well, Violet, years ago, when I was about your age, I heard all kinds of stories about some California gold miners,” said Grandfather. “They got stuck in Yellowstone because of an early snowstorm and had to spend the winter here. The story goes that they built a log hut for themselves, but no one ever found it. There were all sorts of tales about how they may have left behind a bag of gold nuggets.”
The children wanted to know more, but Mr. Alden had nothing else to share. “Maybe that hiker knows about the lost cabin,” Benny whispered when the man finally reached the
On Top of the World
T he four Alden children posed for a picture in front of a log sign. The sign was tall, even taller than Henry, the oldest of the children.
The youngest Alden, six-year-old Benny, sandwiched himself between his two older sisters, Jessie and Violet. He smiled for his grandfather’s camera. “Cheese and crackers,” Benny said, breaking into a grin.
“Hold those smiles,” Mr. Alden called out. “I just ran out of film. Stay for a minute while I reload.”
Jessie said to Henry, Violet, and Benny, “Let’s move aside so these other tourists can take pictures in front of the sign, too.”
Benny asked Jessie, “Why does everybody stop here to get pictures taken?”
Jessie was always full of information. “Well, Benny,” she began, “we’re standing on the Continental Divide. It runs along the top of the Rocky Mountains. On one side of the Divide, streams and rivers flow west to the Pacific Ocean. On the other side, they go east toward the Atlantic Ocean. The Continental Divide is famous. That’s why people have their pictures taken here.”
Benny squinted at the log sign. “I get it. If I pour my water bottle out right here, half the water will go one way, and the other half will go the other way.”
“Why don’t you try it and find out,” Henry suggested.
Benny poured his water bottle onto the dry ground. “Hey, all my water disappeared into the ground!” he complained. “Which ocean would I go to if I rolled down this mountain?”
“I wouldn’t try that, Benny,” Violet said. “This mountain is pretty steep. My ears have been popping ever since we got off the plane.”
Mr. Alden noticed that Benny was getting restless. He knew his grandson always wanted to get wherever they were going. “Hang on, Benny. We’ll be in Yellowstone National Park shortly. Mrs. McGregor said she wants us to bring back plenty of snapshots from our trip. Let’s stretch our legs a bit until it’s our turn for pictures again.”
The Aldens strolled to the edge of the lookout where they were parked. In front of them, the Rocky Mountains stretched in every direction.
Violet took a deep breath of air. “I love the smell of all these trees. I never saw such tall, skinny ones before.”
Benny wanted to be walking through the trees, not sniffing them. “I wish we could try out our new hiking boots right now on this big mountain.”
Henry gave Benny a friendly punch in the arm. “No chance of that. There’s a chain across the trail. See the sign?”
“Lost Cabin Trails Closed,” Benny said, proud that he could read every word.
Mr. Alden came over to see what Benny was talking about. “What do you know! This is the end of a trail I hiked with my own grandfather when I visited Yellowstone as a boy. We never made it this far, though. I wonder why the trails are closed.”
“Maybe they’re not.” Henry pointed down the dirt path. “Look below. There’s a backpacker climbing up this way. See? He’s wearing a bright orange hat.”
The Aldens peeked over the edge to see who Henry was talking about.
Mr. Alden removed his sunglasses to get a better look. “I’d like to have a chat with the fellow and find out what’s going on with these trails. I’d give anything to go down a ways. I wonder if we’re anywhere near the famous lost cabin.”
Violet was curious, too. “What lost cabin, Grandfather?”
“Well, Violet, years ago, when I was about your age, I heard all kinds of stories about some California gold miners,” said Grandfather. “They got stuck in Yellowstone because of an early snowstorm and had to spend the winter here. The story goes that they built a log hut for themselves, but no one ever found it. There were all sorts of tales about how they may have left behind a bag of gold nuggets.”
The children wanted to know more, but Mr. Alden had nothing else to share. “Maybe that hiker knows about the lost cabin,” Benny whispered when the man finally reached the
Similar Books
