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    Star in the Storm
    Star in the Storm
    Star in the Storm
    Ebook106 pages1 hour

    Star in the Storm

    By Joan Hiatt Harlow

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    About this ebook

    All non-sheepherding dogs have been outlawed from the rocky coastal village where Maggie lives. Unwilling to give up her beloved Newfoundland, Sirius, Maggie defies the law and hides Sirius away.

    But when a steamer crashes into the rocks during a violent storm and starts to sink with a hundred passengers on board, Maggie faces a difficult choice. She knows Sirius can help rescue the people trapped on the ship, but bringing him out of hiding would put his own life in jeopardy. Is Maggie’s brave dog a big enough hero to save the desperate passengers—and himself?

    This heartwarming story of a lovable dog and his feisty mistress is based on true stories about Newfoundland dogs and filled with drama, tension, and exciting rescues.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherMargaret K. McElderry Books
    Release dateJul 30, 2013
    ISBN9781442444188
    Star in the Storm
    Author

    Joan Hiatt Harlow

    Joan Hiatt Harlow is the author of several popular historical novels including Secret of the Night Ponies, Shadows on the Sea, Midnight Rider, Star in the Storm, Joshua’s Song, Thunder from the Sea, and Breaker Boy. Ms. Harlow lives in Venice, Florida. For more information, visit her at JoanHiattHarlow.com.

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    • 5/5
      One of the best dog stories ever!

    Book preview

    Star in the Storm - Joan Hiatt Harlow

    title

    CONTENTS

    star

    ELEVEN BLACK BIRDS

    ANGRY ENCOUNTER

    SICKNESS

    DANGER AT THE ICEBERG

    NIGHTMARE

    THE LOST TREASURE

    SECRET AT THE QUIDNUNC

    SIRIUS IS MISSING

    THE HIDDEN SPRING

    SIX RAVENS

    THE GALE

    SHIPWRECK!

    A STAR IN THE STORM

    FIVE BLACK BIRDS

    AFTERWORD

    In loving memory of my mother, Maggie Wells Small Hiatt, R.N., a Newfoundlander who sang me the songs and told me the tales.

    J. H. H.

    map

    ELEVEN BLACK BIRDS

    A FLOCK OF HUGE BLACK birds soared, gathered, then landed one after another in the trees near Maggie. She paused in her walk up the hill, blocked her eyes against the spring sun, and counted.

    ‘One for sadness, two for mirth,’ Maggie quoted the old rhyme about crows and ravens her mother had taught her. " ‘Three for marriage, four for birth; five for laughing, six for crying; seven for sickness, eight for dying; nine for silver, ten for gold; eleven for a secret that will never be told.’

    A secret, she whispered to the black Newfoundland dog by her side. She smiled as she thought of her father’s warnings about pishogues—superstitious foolishness. Everyone in Bonnie Bay has a secret, I’ll wager.

    The cliff behind Maggie’s house rose sharply. At the top it took on the shape of a face peering down into the harbor. Everyone in the little fishing outport called the cliff the quidnunc. Like a quidnunc, or busybody, the rock jutted its chin over the tops of the trees as if straining to see the folk of Bonnie Bay in the British Colony of Newfoundland.

    Maggie Wells and her dog, Sirius, were climbing to the top of the quidnunc. Sirius lingered for a moment on Witch’s Rock, a ledge on the hillside that overlooked the harbor.

    C’mon, Sirius, Maggie coaxed. I know you’d love to plunge right into the ocean, but that water is too cold. And now there’s a big iceberg in the harbor.

    Sirius turned and trudged behind Maggie as she headed up the steep path. From the time he was a pup, Sirius had loved swimming and diving from the wharves along the waterfront. He was always happy to fetch things from the boat for Pa, or to work around the stages—the long wharves of rough-hewn tree limbs where freshly caught fish were laid out to dry.

    When they reached the top of the quidnunc, Maggie sat on the edge of the smooth-faced rock and carefully slid down to a wide, rocky ledge that was carpeted with soft moss. Sirius followed her cautiously. A thicket of sweet-smelling spruce concealed a small cave in the rocks. Sirius waited outside while Maggie crawled into the cave. She found an old baby blanket she had hidden there last fall and some shards of dishes she had used last year for a make-believe kitchen. The blanket was damp and musty, so she brought it out and hung it on a limb to air. I suppose twelve is too old to play copy house, Maggie thought. She set the dishes on a rock next to where Sirius was lying in the sun. It’s kind of sad to grow up, though, she whispered as she scratched her dog’s ears.

    Suddenly, an unripe berry plopped on her shoulder. Then another berry caught in her long brown braid.

    I know you’re there, Vera, Maggie called, looking around.

    A curly, blond head poked out from behind a rock on the ledge above. I followed you and Sirius all the way up here, and you never even saw me. Vera made her way down to Maggie. Her impish grin hardly matched the prim dress and starched white pinafore she wore. It always amazed Maggie that anyone as mischievous as her cousin, Vera, could stay so spotless and neat.

    It’s neither ladylike nor Christian to spy on people. Maggie often pretended to scold her cousin as if she were several years younger instead of only a year. Have you seen the iceberg off Killock Rock Island? It looks just like a church with two steeples.

    Vera scrambled back up to the top of the quidnunc and looked to the north, where the iceberg towered high above the cliffs, blocking the narrows where Bonnie Bay opened into the sea.

    It’s like a fairy castle, Vera whispered, with turrets and towers.

    No, it’s a church, insisted Maggie, climbing up after Vera. "I wonder if the iceberg that sank the Titanic was as big as that."

    Probably bigger, said Vera. It had only been a couple of months since the sinking of the famous ocean liner off the coast of Newfoundland. It was the biggest news during the spring of 1912, and the girls couldn’t stop thinking about the tragedy.

    "I’ll never go near an iceberg, said Maggie. It’s way too dangerous."

    Look down there on Witch’s Rock. Vera pointed. There’s Tamar Rand looking exactly like a witch herself, with her hair all mops and brooms.

    Can she see us?

    She’s looking back at the meadow. I think she’s watching her sheep. Vera backed away slightly as if to hide herself from the girl below.

    Oh, Lord, whispered Maggie. I don’t want her to see us when we go back, especially when we have Sirius with us. You know how the Rands hate dogs. Pa says they’re trying to make a law that will ban dogs from this whole bay.

    What will you do with Sirius if the law is passed? asked Vera.

    Pa says we’ll have to send him off somewhere, but I have something planned, all right, said Maggie, nodding. I won’t let them take Sirius away from me.

    Sirius, who had been dozing on the soft bed of spruce needles, looked up and wagged his tail.

    Maggie wound her long braid until it sat like a knot on the top of her head, then let it tumble back down to her waist. She peered below to Witch’s Rock. Tamar stood looking out at the sea, her long dress fluttering around her ankles.

    When we go back, we’ll walk right by her, said Vera, drawing herself up tall. "Those Rands do not own the quidnunc."

    But they do own most everything else around here, Maggie said. Our dads fish for old Howard, so it would be best not to cause any trouble.

    Howard Rand was the richest man in Bonnie Bay. He had a large herd of sheep, and owned more boats than any of his neighbors. Maggie’s father and Vera’s father, Maggie’s Uncle Norm, worked as fishermen on one of Howard Rand’s boats. It was the custom for the owner of a boat to divide the catch of fish with his men. Then the owner would take back some fish from each shareman to help pay toward the costs of running the boat. But old Rand was known to charge unfair costs to his men. That and his sour disposition made him the most disagreeable skipper in Bonnie Bay. However, he had the best boats and fishing gear, and most folks considered it a privilege to work for him.

    Maggie climbed back down to the mossy ledge, with Vera and Sirius close behind. She folded her blanket, gathered her china, and crawled into the little cave. Maggie thought about the eleven black birds. A secret that’ll never be told. "Remember, you must never, never tell anyone about this cave, she warned Vera, who had followed her inside. This is our secret. Do you swear?"

    Vera held up her right hand. I swear, she said solemnly.

    Maggie hid her blanket and dishes on a stone ledge inside

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