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established tunnel under the winding roots of the stump. Without a second thought, Darrell flopped to the ground and, with her stomach on the sand, wriggled into the tunnel after Delaney.
    She found it a tight fit only for a moment and then the tunnel widened to allow her plenty of room to move. She could feel air circulating above her head andslowly stood upright. Delaney barked again and nuzzled her sandy hand.
    Darrell found, to her surprise, that she could stand up inside without stooping. She looked up and could see the jagged top of the trunk high above, pointing to the sky. From inside the ancient log, the pounding of the surf grew distant. She stretched out a hand to find the inner wood was smooth, soft, and damp to the touch. There was a smell that she couldn’t place; a whiff of old fires left burning to cinders, of smoke, of peace. Instinctively, Darrell pulled back her hand to look for the telltale mark of charcoal, but her skin was clean. She replaced her hand on the inner wall of the log, noticing for the first time the warmth of the wood, in spite of the fact that the sun no longer shone outside. The texture drew her, and she closed her eyes and laid one cheek against the smooth surface.
    The sensation was startling. With her hand and face against the wood, she felt as though she could see, taste, and smell the history of the old tree. The sound of the surf beating the ocean rocks into sand on the shore gave an undertone, and with her ear against the inside of the old log she marvelled at the deep, dull beat of drums. The smell of wood smoke, the tang of salt on her tongue, and the steady, solid rhythm filled her senses.
    Delaney settled on the soft sand as pictures rose unbidden behind her closed eyelids. Darkness, figuresdancing, wisps of smoke, and licks of flame. She could smell the water more strongly now, or was it the scent of crab being boiled in pots over open fires? She felt the passage of time course from the ancient driftwood tree into her fingertips. She stood rapt, in the grey light within the ancient tree, lost in a world that existed long ago. She opened her eyes and smiled at Delaney, who thumped his tail gently. She wished she had brought her sketchbook to note down the mesmerizing images that filled her mind.
    â€œWe’ll come back here again, Delaney,” she whispered. She dropped to her knees to pat him and saw that he was curled up on a scrap of tattered towel. She looked around and saw what she had not noticed before, shreds of old bone and a few scraps of well-gnawed wood. A thought dawned, and she grinned.
    â€œDelaney!” she whispered. “This is where you live, isn’t it?”
    Delaney smiled with his mouth open and thumped his tail on the sand. Turning his head, he sniffed at the tunnel and gave a gentle woof.
    â€œDarrell? Are you in there? What are you doing?” A voice, filled with concern, echoed in through the tunnel. Darrell was startled, then suddenly angry. She had found a special place, and it was already being invaded. She recognized Kate’s voice but did not want to share her discovery with anyone. She thought about not answering, and she stood very still.

    Kate’s voice took on a frantic note.
    â€œDarrell, please answer me, if you can. Are you in there? Are you hurt?” Darrell stayed still and silent.
    â€œI can’t believe this!” Darrell could hear Kate talking to herself outside the tunnel. “I’ve got to go in there. Brodie said he saw her go in, but what if I get stuck, too? What good is it if we both die on this stupid beach?” And then, more loudly, “Darrell! Answer me!”
    Darrell closed her eyes and crossed her fingers that Kate would just go away and give her a chance to hang on to her secret. Her heart dropped as she heard a scrabbling sound at the entrance to Delaney’s tunnel. Frowning, she sat down and watched as Kate wriggled her way into the hollow tree.
    Kate sat up and brushed