We went to bed. Beforehand, I had made sure to gather enough sticks and logs to last the night. The intense growling of my stomach jostled me awake. I looked over at the cage that I had made for Seymour–a bunch of sticks stuck in the dirt in a medium sized circle with a heavy flat rock on top. I made it a little too sound for Seymour, so I’d be sure he wouldn’t be able to get out. At first, Seymour was figeting so much, I thought he would break the cage! But he finally fell asleep and was fine.

I got up from the leaves I was laying on in our house, and went outside. Birds were chirping, and bugs buzzed around. I was so hungry, I could have grabbed one of those flies and eaten it. In fact, that gave me an idea. I went out and found some flowers. I was going to gather some bees. I sat outside with my wilting flowers for an hour. One bee came and when I caught it, it stung me. I’m not allergic, but that hurt.

I decided to take Seymour out of his cage so he could look around. I ate some seaweed and felt ok. Seymour ate the dead bee that had stung me. We sat on the beach for another hour, and I occasionally went back in the house to put more logs on the fire. Seymour paced around, fell in the swampy water, and was altogether silly.

Seymour waddled into the hut. I heard a “SQUACK!” and billows of smoke came out of the opening of our house. I jumped up to see what had happened. Seymour streaked out, his back end smoking. Apparently, he had gotten too close to the fire and caught his whole rear end on fire!

After I had dunked Seymour’s bottom in the swamp and put him back in his cage, I heard a noise. It was the whirring of a helicopter! I looked up and saw it coming closer and closer!

I thought it was too good to be true. Finally someone had come for us! I stood up and started jumping and screaming. I ran into the house and lit a large stick on fire, brought it outside, and started waving it around.

The helicopter stopped right above the island. A man on a megaphone said, “Stand by! We’re here to help you! Are you Clay Veenstraw?” I was screaming at the TOP OF MY LUNGS. “YES I AM! YES!!”

A ladder came down out the door of the helipcopter and I ran to it, praising God all the way. “Is that your chicken?” asked the assistant pilot. I looked back and saw Seymour running out of the hut. I said, “Yes, but I think he’ll be better off staying here. He can make it on his own.” The assistant looked once more at the chicken and said, “Ok, we’re ready to clear out.” I looked back and saw my little house getting smaller and smaller, but I was ok. I only had one problem.

“Hey, do you guys have any food in here?”

THE END