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Author: Susan Evans McCloud
I passed old haystacks, bent and twisted in shadow. I ran on till I reached the riverbed. Here there were stumps and half-fallen trees to hide me. I worked my way back into the shadowy stillness. A dark shape burst past me, blotting out my light. I heard a short whistle, the signal for Lie Low. I crouched down on my haunches. I could smell the rich river mud. I could hear the water as it lapped in a sing-song rhythm against the shore. I stayed low till my muscles ached, then· I raised myself slowly. It seemed as if I had been hiding here for hours. Where were the others? What if the game was over? I held my breath, wanting to hear the shrill signal from Almonzo: Run, Sheep, Run. That would release me. I could run for the goal, run with all my might. As I turned, a hand closed over my mouth, hard and bruising, cutting off my breath. I screamed, but no sound came out. ...
