Sydney and the Wisconsin Whispering Woods by Jean Fischer Page A

forget the pepper spray in case we run into a bear,” Alexis reminded her. “I got it,” said Sydney.
    The girls entered the forest following the same route they’d taken the day before. After they’d walked about ten minutes, they noticed the shovel on the ground.
    “Hey look,” said Sydney. “Someone’s been digging again.”
    The earth near the shovel was freshly turned over, and the tip of the shovel was caked with mud.
    “Do you think that’s where Mr. Miller buried the coyote?” Alexis asked.
    “I don’t think so,” said Sydney. “We’re too far from the resort. And look at how the ground is dug up. Whoever dug here didn’t dig one big hole. The person dug a bunch of little ones.”
    Alexis gave the earth a closer look. “It looks like clumps are missing out of the soil.”
    Sydney picked up the shovel.
    “What are you doing?” Alexis asked.
    “I’m going to dig and see what’s here,” Sydney said. “Maybe I’ll find the lost treasure of Jacques Chouteau.” She grinned.
    “Don’t,” said Alexis. “At least not now. Whoever dug here will probably come back. We’d better not mess things up. Otherwise, whoever it is will know for sure that we’re watching them.”
    “You’re right,” said Sydney. She put the shovel back on the ground, careful to place it exactly as she’d found it.
    “What are those things over there?” Alexis asked. She pointed to a brownish white mass on the forest floor a few yards away.
    “Mushrooms!” said Sydney. “Gigandimundo mushrooms.”
    She took a closer look and snapped a picture with the mini-microcam. “I don’t know what kind they are, but there’s a ton of them all over the place. I didn’t notice them when we were here before.”
    “Neither did I,” said Alexis.
    Dozens of mushrooms popped out of the rotted leaves and pine needles on the forest floor. Their umbrella-shaped caps were rough and bumpy like the wool on a sheep, and their edges were ragged. The black-and-white caps sat atop thick little trunks that were scaly and peeling.
    “Do you think they’re edible?” Alexis wondered.
    “I don’t know,” said Sydney. “Some mushrooms you can eat, but others are poisonous. I think we should leave them alone. Definitely, though, we need to check out this spot and find out who’s digging here.”
    “Maybe it’s one of the visitors at the resort,” said Alex. “These things are probably edible, and someone is digging them up for cooking.”
    The girls walked farther into the woods searching for clues as they went. After a while, they found a narrow path going east and decided to follow it.
    “I think we’re walking toward the lake,” said Alexis. “I hear a motorboat.”
    “Me, too,” said Sydney. “A bunch of boats were on the lake when we left. Shhhh! Listen.”
    Alexis heard it, too. Someone whistled a quick and lively tune. It came from the south—in the woods—and with each happy note it got closer.
    “Hide!” said Alexis. “Over there in those bushes.”
    The girls scrambled behind a thick cluster of honeysuckle. They stood silently watching the path through the dense leaves. Sydney took the mirrored sunglasses out of her waist pack and put them on.
    “I don’t want anyone sneaking up on us,” she whispered.
    The whistling stopped. The girls heard a rustling. Something was trying to force its way through the brush on the other side of the path. Twigs snapped, and the tops of small saplings swayed.
    “Doggone it!” a man grumbled. More twigs snapped. The brush on the other side of the path trembled. “Come on….
Ugh! Ooof! Umph!”
    Suddenly, a bright orange object thrust through the bushes and fell onto the path. It was nine feet long, and it looked like a giant kazoo. The middle part was hollowed out to form a little place with a seat. A long pole was strapped to the side of the thing with a rounded paddle on either end.
    “It’s a kayak.” Sydney whispered so softly that Alexis could barely hear.
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