Crown of the Cowibbean by Mike Litwin Page A

reputation. He stood no more than two feet high. His deep maroon captain’s hat was almost as big as he was, with ruffled white trim and a huge yellow plume. He fluttered his feathery wings and squawked excitedly.
    Marco always roosted at the Tiki when he came in from a voyage, filling the tiny pub with colossal tales of adventure starring him and his first mate Ribeye. Even though his stories were very entertaining, almost no one took them seriously. After all, nearly everyone who lived on the island believed Bermooda was the only life in the sea. Everyone but Chuck, of course.
    Chuck couldn’t get enough of Marco’s stories. Whenever he saw the Swashclucker docked in the harbor, he would scurry to the Tiki and listen to Marco cackle on for hours about sea monsters, treasures, and far-off lands. It was the kind of life Chuck could only dream of living. Marco was his hero.
    â€œSo there we were,” Marco clucked, “both of us wrapped up tight in the giant squid’s tentacles. Of course, Ribeye here was helpless to fight.” He motioned behind him to an enormous bull with an eye patch. Ribeye stood with his arms crossed, quietly frowning and shaking his big square head.
    The chicken continued, “I alone, Marco , with my cunning, my prowess, my—”
    â€œBull-oney!” mooed a large cow from the back of the crowd. The whole circle of cows laughed. “Pollo, every time you tell that story, that squid gets bigger and bigger.”
    The laughter grew louder as Marco turned red beneath his orange feathers. But the cows’ laughter did not stop Marco. He continued to talk…and talk…and talk. Every once in a while, Ribeye would just shake his head and grunt while rolling his one good eye.
    Chuck and Dakota listened for nearly two hours before remembering they were supposed to be camping. They quietly slipped out of the Tiki as Marco was telling the crowd about the time he cut off the head of a giant sea snake.
    â€œSee? I told you Marco was amazing,” Chuck said.

    â€œAre you kidding?” Dakota answered, raising an eyebrow. “It all sounds like a bunch of fairy tales to me.” Dakota was not as quick to believe Marco’s epic stories as Chuck was. He thought it was ridiculous enough that they were spending their weekend looking for a silver ghost cow in the ocean, let alone stories about sea snakes and giant squids.
    â€œThey’re not fairy tales!” Chuck snapped back. “Marco is a great explorer and a hero! It’s the truth!”
    â€œNo, this is the truth,” Dakota held up their copy of The Daily Moos . “This is stuff that really happened.”
    Chuck sighed. As a hu’man, Dakota knew just as well as him that there really was a whole other world out there. Shouldn’t he believe Marco more than anyone ? Chuck thought to himself. He glanced at the Swashclucker .
    Chuck’s tail began to twitch. “I’ve got an idea!” he said. “I can prove Marco’s stories are true.”
    â€œHow?” Dakota asked nervously. Whenever Chuck had a great idea, it usually ended up getting both of them in trouble.
    Chuck pointed to the Swashclucker . “Let’s go on a treasure hunt.”
    â€œA treasure hunt?” Dakota echoed. “We’re already on a ghost hunt! What about our camping trip?” Dakota was not as daring as Chuck, and he preferred camping on the beach much more than poking around a ship they didn’t own.
    â€œWe still have plenty of time before sunset,” Chuck assured him as he strolled toward the harbor. “Come on, it’ll be an adventure.”
    I hate adventure , Dakota thought.

2
    TREASURE TROVE
    The Swashclucker was docked at the very end of the wharf. Marco loved attention, so he always docked where everyone could see his boat. Sneaking on board was going to need a careful plan. Luckily, Chuck was always full of plans.
    â€œPut this on,” he said as