Chapter One: Lost

We did not know how fast the mist was moving. When we left High Hut the cloud was covering Matawai above us. But the sun was slanting in from the east, just clearing the Pukemanu Ranges on the other side of the wide valley that was home to our farm and a dozen others like it.

It was in the May holidays. We had been home for a week already. School holidays at our place were always a madhouse. That’s what Dad said, anyway. We lived a fair way out of town, so we all went to boarding schools. Nearly all of us, that is. I was a weekly boarder at District High. It was all right, except that this year was School Cert., and the teachers never let up. Matt, my older brother, was not there any more. He got into trouble last year. He dyed the Hostel Manager’s cat red. He said he didn’t know why. So Mum and Dad sent him to board at a Catholic school in the city. Dad said they’d sort him out. Matt said it wasn’t too bad.

So there we were, me and Matt, on Razorback with the cloud boiling around Matawai and the sun rising on the other side of the valley. But we weren’t alone. There was Slick.

Slick is my little brother. He’s thirteen. He’s a real pain. He’s called Slick because – well, you’ll see. His name is Steven. Only Mum calls him that. And Dad, when he’s looking to give him a tanning. Slick is in the Third Form, but he’s not at District High. He does Correspondence School at home. Dad says it’s so High School can get over Matt. Mum doesn’t say anything – see what I mean? Everyone calls him Slick. So there we were, the three of us. Galloping along Razorback with the sun in our eyes and the wind at our back.

“Wait up!” hollered Slick.

“What now?” said Matt.

Matt is into responsibility. He’s polite to Slick. Sometimes.

“The dog’s found something.” Slick dumped his pack. Slick is always dumping his pack. Either he’s got a sore foot, or the dog’s got a sore foot, or the dog’s found something, or Slick’s found something. Hiking with Slick and the dog is like a bus ride in town – a sort of butterfly marathon.

“Leave it. Leave it, get-in-behind,” Matt screamed. Matt has been studying Sandy, the shepherd who comes in to help Dad at shearing. Dad talks to his dogs. Sandy bellows. Matt is learning to scream.