rafting rather than on horseback. On a warm moonlit night in 1973, a fifteen-year-old boy named Ben snuck out of his cabin. He slipped into a canoe, planning to paddle to Canyon Falls to meet his girlfriend.”
A suggestive “Woooooo!” came up from the girls.
“Yes,” agreed Carmen. “Very romantic. But dangerous. The rocks hidden under the water were difficult to spot during the day. At night, they couldn’t be seen at all. Ben’s canoe tipped as he approached the girls’ camp. He’d put his life jacket on the bottom of the canoe to use as a cushion instead of wearing it, which we all know is a no-no!”
An older girl yelled out, “Yeah, but stealing a canoe and sneaking out to see your girlfriend, that’s fine!” Gillian joined in the laughter that rippled through the group.
Carmen continued, unfazed. “As he fell into the water, his head struck a rock and he was dazed. He couldn’t get himself to the shore. He had no life jacket and all he could do was struggle to stay afloat. The current pushed him farther and farther downstream. He was able to call out once for help. Then he was sucked under the water.”
Emiko squeaked and grabbed Gillian’s arm tightly.
Robin spun around. “Emiko, you’ve heard this story before.”
Emiko put a hand on her chest. “I know. It’s just so intense!”
Again, giggles rippled through the group as Emiko squished herself closer to Gillian. Gillian, also feeling tense, welcomed the squish.
Carmen waited until it was quiet and then she said, “Ben woke up a little while later on the riverbank and somehow managed to hike his way back to Canyon Falls by morning. He said he had been fighting to get back to the surface, almost completely out of breath, when a sudden thrashing next to him made him go still. There were legs and a long dark face and a mane black as the water in the night. Through his panic Ben recognized Hunter, a stallion from Canyon Falls. Hunter had been his girlfriend’s horse that summer. Ben grabbed on to the mane and pulled himself up, gasping for air. The two of them were dragged helplessly farther down the river. Finally, the big horse dragged Ben to a rock near the bank. Ben was able to pull himself up onto the rock but Hunter was swept away, unable to free himself from the rushing water. The horse was fighting and shrieking as he disappeared downstream toward the waterfall. He was never seen again. Hunter had saved Ben’s life and given his own.”
Gillian let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding.
“Poor Hunter!” said Emiko. Jaida had her face hidden in Naomi’s shoulder. Katrina rolled her eyes and looked bored. The rest of the girls were huddling closer together as the breeze picked up.
“Some days when the river is high,” said Carmen, “unpredictable currents develop. Small eddies and whirlpools appear and disappear with no rhyme or reason. A little wave will appear at the shore when there is no wind or boat to create it. Some people believe that Hunter’s spirit haunts this river and is trying to warn people of the dangers within it.”
A ghost horse? Nope, nope, nope. Stella was not impressed.
Carmen went on. “The river needs to be treated with caution and respect. Remember you can’t see below the surface.” She turned away from the girls and tossed her torch back onto the waning campfire. “All right,” she said. “Tomorrow’s a big day. Now back to your bunks and get a good night’s sleep.”
Ha! Stella’s voice startled Gillian, causing her to jump slightly, jostling Emiko, who was still squished in tight. If she wanted us to get a good night’s sleep, maybe she shouldn’t have told us a terrifying ghost story! I hate ghosts!
Gillian shivered. Emiko stood and stared at her. “You okay? You’re kind of vibrating.”
Gillian looked up at her new friend, embarrassed. “Yeah, I’m not the biggest fan of ghosts.”
Emiko turned her palms up and said, “What? Hunter? He’s amazing! He totally saved Ben, and he lives in the river and he’s a horse and he warns us about currents and rocks...”
Gillian tried to be comforted by Emiko, who happily waved a dismissive hand and said, “Every camp needs a ghost. Hunter’s the best.”
Hunter died. He can’t have been happy about that. Maybe he’s not as friendly as she thinks, said Stella. This camp is off to a great start. Bears, a horse named Beast and a haunted river of death!
Gillian tried to brush off Stella’s worries. But she trembled with more than the cold on the walk back to cabin three, homesickness no longer her greatest fear.
Chapter 4
Gillian squirmed herself as far down into her sleeping bag as she could, but she still couldn’t block out the clanging sound. There must have been about four hundred bongs of the bell. Finally it stopped. What a relief. She took her hands off her ears and snuggled back onto her pillow for a little more sleep. Then she groaned as Naomi cranked a happy pop song on her phone.
“Up, up, up! Clothes on. Wash up quick. Breakfast in fifteen minutes. Be there or be hungry.” Naomi yelled cheerfully over the music, way too excited for this early in the morning. But suddenly Gillian remembered. Horses. Today she would meet the new four-legged friend who would be her partner for the next four weeks. She couldn’t be late. She sat up and her sleeping bag sat up with her. She was glad for this because the air in the cabin was freezing. She grabbed the nearest jeans and sweater off the shelf above her head and pulled them on while still zipped in the sleeping bag. Her clothes felt tight. Then she realized she had put them on over her pyjamas. She stripped them off and tried again, getting it right the second time. It hadn’t been the best night’s sleep. She wasn’t used to hearing crickets all night, and the wind whistled as it passed through cracks in the cabin’s roof. The bunk beds also creaked whenever someone rolled over. And every time she drifted to sleep, images of a ghost horse galloped through her mind. Twice in the night she heard Jaida sniffling and whimpering. Eventually Naomi climbed into Jaida’s bunk and comforted her to sleep. Gillian had been close to tears herself a few times, missing her bed and her room, but she managed to push the thoughts away by imagining the upcoming day with the horses. She’d hugged Elfkin tighter than she ever had and then finally she remembered nothing more until the ear-shattering bell a few moments ago.
Breakfast was hot chocolate and French toast with sausages. There was also cold cereal but Gillian’s mouth watered with the smell of the cooked food.
She finished eating as quickly as possible and hurried back to the Homestead with the rest of the girls. They all went through the chores of making up their bunks, putting away clothes, sweeping and cleaning up the garbage. They gathered what they would need for the day, crossed the Range and hiked the short, rocky trail through the woods.
They arrived at the stables to find twenty-four horses tied to various posts and fences in the large paddock. Gillian stopped, shocked at what she was seeing. Every horse was covered in streaks of mud. Along the side of their necks the streaks took the shape of letters. Libby was standing at the gate to the paddock, holding it open and waving the girls inside. At her feet was a large bucket and in her right hand was a paintbrush caked with drying mud. “Welcome, ladies. Today we’re going to get to know our horses, and at the same time, learn to brush them properly. Find the horse with your name on it. That’s your partner for the next four weeks.”
“You’ve got to be kidding.” It was Katrina who broke the girls’ stunned silence.
