Marsh Island by Sonya Bates

Text copyright © 2009 Sonya Spreen Bates
Illustrations copyright © 2009 Kasia Charko
    All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system now known or to be invented, without permission in writing from the publisher.
    Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication
    Bates, Sonya Spreen, 1963–
Marsh Island / written by Sonya Spreen Bates; illustrated by Kasia Charko.
    (Orca echoes)
ISBN 978-1-55469-117-3
    1. Wilderness survival--Juvenile fiction.
I. Charko, Kasia, 1949- II. Title. III. Series: Orca echoes
    PS8603.A846M37 2009               jC813’.6          C2008-908029-7
    First published in the United States, 2009
Library of Congress Control Number : 2008943124
    Summary : A suspenseful story of two brothers who go camping with their dad and get lost in the woods.
    Orca Book Publishers gratefully acknowledges the support for its publishing programs provided by the following agencies: the Government of Canada through the Book Publishing Industry Development Program and the Canada Council for the Arts, and the Province of British Columbia through the BC Arts Council and the Book Publishing Tax Credit.
    Typesetting by Bruce Collins
Cover artwork and interior illustrations by Kasia Charko
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Printed and bound in Canada.
12  11  10  09  •  4  3  2  1

For my mom, who loved the woods.

Chapter One
EXPLORING
    Jake crouched under the giant tree. It felt rough and scratchy on his hand. The smell of the bark made his nose sting. He’d never been in the woods before. There were hundreds and thousands of trees, and no one around but him. He could be anything he wanted to be in these woods.
    I’m a panther, thought Jake. Sleek, black and dangerous. I slink through the grass. My paws are silent on the jungle floor. My eyes dart through the trees. I hear the crack of a twig, see movement in the shadows. I spot my prey.
    â€œJake? Jake?” It was Jake’s brother Tommy, making as much noise as a T. rex. The racket would scare offprey for miles. Jake spun around.
A hunter!
he thought.
I won’t let him capture me.
He crouched lower and crept behind a tree trunk.
    â€œJake, come out!” called Tommy. “This isn’t funny.” His voice wobbled.
    Jake tilted his head up and sniffed.
I smell fear
, he thought.
    Tommy’s stumbling footsteps moved closer. “Dad won’t like this,” he said to the forest around him. “We’re supposed to stay near the tent.”
    Jake scowled. Tommy was such a spoilsport. Jake had wanted to leave him at home. This was Jake’s first camping trip, and he’d wanted it to be special. He was nine now, and he had wanted to spend some time alone with Dad. But Tommy had whined and complained, and Dad had let him come.
    Marsh Island was no place for Tommy. Tommy was only seven. He didn’t like bugs, he didn’t like tents and he didn’t like noises in the night. There wereplenty of noises on Marsh Island. Even Jake had lain awake the first couple of nights, listening to the strange sounds of the forest.
    I wait,
thought Jake. He comes closer. A few more steps...wait for