"Do you see those caves
down there?" Bonnie asked, flying up the coastline of eastern Scotland.
"Yes and I think maybe we
should go in there. It looks like a big storm on its way and where could
we be safer than in a cave," Bruce suggested.
Bonnie looked up at the
sky. "You donít have to convince me. Iíll follow you."
They landed on the sand
outside one of the caves. The waves rolled in and splashed on the shore
behind them. "Letís go inside this one," Bruce said, walking in.
"Wow. This is cool," Bonnie
said. "This is huge. What are these feathers doing all over? Do you think
there are seagulls in here?"
"I donít think theyíre
seagull feathers. They look like pigeon feathers to me," Bruce said,
"It looks like the cave
collapsed. I noticed several other caves that collapsed too. One of them
had shiny bits of glass lying in the sand and among the rocks. Did you see
that?" Bonnie asked. "Maybe weíd better find one that is still a cave and
not a pile or stones," Bonnie suggested. They flew out and walked down the
"There are so many caves.
Letís go in this one," Bruce said. "Wow. There are cave paintings. Come
Bonnie followed him inside.
"Thereís a picture of a boat, and some people. I wonder who drew these?"
"Probably Vikings, or early
Picts," Bruce said. "Where are we anyway?"
"I saw a sign back there
that said we were in Wemyss. I have no idea how to pronounce that though,"
"Ah. The Wemyss caves. Iíve
heard of these caves." Just then water started pouring into the cave. "The
tideís coming in."
"Weíd better get out of
here," Bonnie said, but before she could move and inch, hundreds of gray
crabs came crawling out of the rocks, heading towards the rising water.
"Yikes! Look at the crabs!"
"Do crabs eat butterflies?"
Bruce asked, quite concerned.
"I think they eat anything.
Iím gone," Bonnie said and flew into the air and out of the cave just as
another wave rolled in. Fluttering in the air, she added, "Look, Bruce.
The water has swept up all the crabs. The wave is filled with them. Letís
get out of here."
They flew outside. It was
storming. The gray clouds were now black and rain was falling all around.
"Which is worse, rain or crabs?" Bruce sighed. "Letís head inland. Itís
probably not raining in the country."
"Good idea," Bonnie said,
flapping her wings up and down. They flew off towards the green forests,
leaving the caves of Wemyss, the rain, the waves and the crabs behind