Bats and Bones (The Frannie Shoemaker Campground Mysteries) Read Online Free Page B

over rocks in others. Trees and shrubs of all sizes,
improbably growing out of the rocks, combined with the steep walls to create a
welcoming shady retreat from the overheated promise of the day.
    As the
group proceeded single file down the steps to begin the trail on the north
branch, they noticed a definite drop in the temperature.
    “Wow, it’s
lovely here! Hard to believe we’re in Iowa,” Donna said.
    “Isn’t it
amazing?” Jane Ann said. “The biggest cave is over there on the left—the
Colossus. The entrance is down those steps.”
    “I know we
can’t go in but we can go down to it, can’t we?” Donna asked.
    “Why not?
The ranger didn’t mention any restrictions on the trails,” Rob said. They
followed the steps down to the entrance of Colossus, stopping to snap photos of
the contorted rocks and varied plants along the way.
    Frannie
examined each of plants around the entrance to the cave looking for wildflowers
that she could identify. She stepped gingerly over the rocks off the path to
avoid any debilitating accidents. She had learned the hard way that the older
she got, the less reliable her balance. Jane Ann photographed Rob and Donna
sitting on a boulder by the yawning entrance.
    “I’m
surprised they don’t have any ropes or tape across the entrance,” Rob said.
“The ranger said they don’t think the bats here have this white-nose syndrome
yet but they are afraid people will carry it here.”
    “I guess
they are counting on an honor system and don’t want to junk up the place,”
Larry said.
    Dragging
Bugger and Cuba from tantalizing olfactory possibilities in nooks and crannies,
they continued along the path, peeking in small, shallow caves with names like
The Closet, Cubbyhole, and Suitcase, and bigger caves named the Maze, the
Saloon and Budge. The warmth of the sun at the bottom of this ravine was welcome,
not oppressive like in the upper world. The little stream tumbled merrily along
magnifying the varied stones at its bottom. The bobbing and twirling leaves of
the shrubs and trees provided the capping idyllic element.
    While the
rest explored the area around one of the small caves, Frannie sat down on a
rock by the stream, stripped off her shoes and socks and dangled her feet in
the water. The stream was spring-fed and the icy cold took a few minutes of
cringing adjustment. Then she leaned back and watched the bugs and dust motes
dancing in the sunlight. The peace of the moment made the ruckus of the night
before seem like a corny B movie. She dried her feet on an old bandana in her
pocket and put her shoes and socks back on. As she got up and dusted off the
back of her shorts, the rest started to move on and she stepped in behind the
parade.
    One of the
last caves was farther up the side of the ravine and approached by a
combination of graduated stones and short wooden walkways. It appeared to be
one of the medium sized caves with a couple of large boulders covering about a
third of the entrance.
    “What’s the
name of this one?” Donna asked.
    “The sign
was back there before we started the climb. Bogg’s Retreat,” Mickey said.
    As they
peered inside trying to spot interesting formations in the gloom, Bugger
strained at the leash. Rob pulled him back, but he began barking at the mouth
of the cave. The noise piqued Cuba’s interest and she too pulled toward the
cave. Bugger managed to reach the boulders and rutted at a small pile of rocks,
causing several to tumble and roll down the sloping entrance.
    Donna
gasped, echoed by several others. Protruding from the pile of rocks appeared to
be a human toe.

 
    ********************
    Happy
Camper Tip #3

 
    This
suggestion came in one of those forwarded e-mails of household hints but is
especially true when camping. Always have WD40 and duct tape. If something is
supposed to move and doesn’t, use WD40. If it’s not supposed to move and does,
use duct tape.

Chapter Four
    Mid-Saturday Morning

 
    They all
began to talk at