"Come back here, seagull," Mackenzie
Sinclair called out as the white and gray bird flew towards the sea.
"Come back," he cried again. He ran as fast as he could, through the
heather and sea grasses until the came to the beach. Mackenzie watched
sadly as the bird flew off towards the horizon.
Mackenzie looked down at
the beach. It wasn’t a sandy beach. Instead it was covered with small
pebbles, shiny and wave beaten. The rough sea pounded against the stones
and roared in Mackenzie’s ears. He walked onto the beach and started
looking for seashells, driftwood, and bits of flotsam that had washed
up.
At first he found a
bright orange plastic buoy that had been torn from a fishing net. He was
going to carry it home but it was too big. It was tossed back into the
water and it bobbed up and down on the waves. A few pieces of smoothed
and polished glass, bits of shells and even some seaweed were placed in
his pocket. One piece of driftwood was lying against a large rock, so
Mackenzie picked it up and carried. He turned and looked back and hadn’t
realized he’d walked so far. He was lost.
Mackenzie didn’t know
which way to go. Should he walk back along the beach? If he did, would
he remember where he came onto it in the first place? Confused and a
little afraid, he started running away from the pebbly beach up into the
grasses again. He ran for a long time. "Why did I follow that seagull?"
he pouted.
Up ahead was a castle. It
was ancient, crumbling and time worn. Mackenzie had never seen it before
so he didn’t dare go exploring it. Besides, he just wanted to get home.
Soon he came upon a river. It ran into the sea. Mackenzie stood on its
banks and looked into it. He saw some salmon and trout swimming
upstream. Not sure of what else to do, he followed the river.
A few deer went prancing
by. Mackenzie was excited. They were red deer and one had huge antlers.
His grandfather had a rack of deer horns just like that on his wall. He
passed by a flock of wooly sheep. Their wool was all different colors of
browns, grays and creamy whites. Mackenzie looked down at the jumper he
was wearing. It was made from wool and looked the same color as one of
the sheep. They went baa and ran away from him as he walked by.
Further up the river
three highland cattle were grazing. Mackenzie loved to watch highland
cattle. They had long horns that stuck out from the side. Their hair was
rusty colored and shaggy. One had hair so long that it hung to the
ground and Mackenzie couldn’t even see its eyes. They were friendly
cattle and allowed him to pet their rope-like hair.
Mackenzie noticed that
the sun was starting to go down. The air was getting colder and his
fingers were getting stiff. He still didn’t know where he was. All he
knew was that he was horribly lost. There was a fallen tree lying off to
the side of the river. Mackenzie walked over to it. He sat down and
began to cry. "Where’s my home?" he wailed. "I don’t want to be lost
anymore. I want to go home." He sobbed out loud.
A wren flew down and
landed on the tree next to him. It tipped its head back and forth,
wondering what all the noise was. Mackenzie looked at the bird, rubbing
the tears from his face with his sleeve. Suddenly it took off. "I’m not
following you," Mackenzie called to it. "I got lost following a
seagull." The bird flew away.
As he walked aimlessly
through the heather-covered hills, he came to a waterfall. It was loud
and splashed into a deep river. Mackenzie knew it must be the same river
he’d walked beside earlier. Just then he heard, "Mackenzie. Where are
you? Mackenzie Sinclair. Where are you?"
It was his father. "I’m
here, father. I’m here," he screamed, waving his arms about. He saw his
father coming on a big brown horse and ran towards him, crying and
relieved.
"There you are,
Mackenzie. Your mum and I have been worried about you," his father said,
happy to have found his son. "Climb on the back of old Bessie here and
we’ll go home."
Mackenzie got up on
Bessie’s back and climbed up on his father’s shoulders. He didn’t say a
word. He was so happy to see him and so happy to be going home. Bessie
carried them back down the river a ways, where it wasn’t so deep. They
started walking across it. Mackenzie saw several men and boys sitting
along the banks, fishing poles dangling in the flowing water. "Oy. You
found Mackenzie," one called to his father. "Lad, you had your father
worried sick. You ought not be wandering about alone in the highlands,"
he added.
Mackenzie whispered, "I
won’t anymore," and squeezed his father tighter. The horse trudged out
the opposite side of the river. The men all waved so long to Mackenzie
and his father and they headed for home. |