Argos and the Lost Keepsake

Read aloud, slowly and warmly. Stop often to let the children answer. There are no wrong answers here, only brave new ideas to try.

Read aloud, or let an older child read it themselves. Pause at each question so the heroes can decide together. There are no wrong answers here, only braver ideas to try.

The ships are nearly ready to sail home across the sea. There is happy bustle all along the Ship Camp, with sails being mended and figs being packed. But near one tent sits your friend Lykos, and he is crying.

"I have lost my keepsake," he says. "A little token, carved from olive wood, that my grandmother gave me. I carried it all this long way, and now it is gone, somewhere out on the windswept shore. We sail at sunset. I cannot leave it behind."

Odysseus the Bright kneels beside you. "A friend is sad, and a treasure is lost," he says. "That is a job for bright ideas and faithful hearts. Will you go and find it before the ships sail?"

He gives you three gifts: the Conch Horn, the Basket of Honey and Figs, and Penelope's Thread. Then he whistles, and up trots a loyal old dog with a grey muzzle and a wagging tail.

"This is Argos the Faithful Hound," says Odysseus. "He never forgets a friend or a scent. Follow his nose, follow each other, and leave no one behind."

What is your hero name? Will you be a hero of Imagination, of Courage, or of Loyalty?

After all the long years on these shores, the ships were nearly ready at last. The whole Ship Camp hummed with happy work: sails were being patched, baskets of figs lashed down, and everyone talking of home across the wine-dark sea. The hardest day was nearly over, and a soft, glad feeling drifted along the beach with the smoke of the cook-fires.

But by one tent sat your friend Lykos, with his head in his hands. He was not hurt, and nobody had been unkind to him. He had simply lost something, and his heart was heavy with it.

"My keepsake is gone," he said when you knelt beside him. "A little token, carved from olive wood, that my grandmother pressed into my hand the morning we set sail. I have carried it all this long way, and now I have dropped it somewhere out on the windswept shore. We sail at sunset. I cannot go home and leave it behind. I just cannot."

Odysseus the Bright, captain of the seafarers, came and crouched down with you. He was the sort of man who would rather solve a problem than shout about it. "So," he said gently, "a friend is sad, and a small treasure is lost on a very long beach. That is no job for spears. That is a job for bright ideas and a faithful heart. Will you go and find it before the tide and the wind hide it for good?"

Into your hands he gave three gifts: the Conch Horn, a great spiral shell that sounds a warm calling note across the water; the Basket of Honey and Figs, in case the search grew long; and Penelope's Thread, a ball of strong weaving thread to mark your way so you could never lose it. Then he put two fingers to his lips and whistled, and up the beach, at a stiff old trot, came a grey-muzzled hound with bright, kind eyes and a tail that would not stop.

"This is Argos the Faithful Hound," said Odysseus, scratching the dog's ears. "He never forgets a friend, and he never forgets a scent. Follow his nose. Follow one another. And whatever you do, leave no one behind."

What is your hero name? Which quality will you carry: Imagination, Courage, or Loyalty?

Argos puts his nose to the sand and sets off along the beach. He stops at a little mark in the sand, then at another, then he looks back at you and waits.

There are tracks here, and small clues too: a dropped fig, a footprint, a scuff where someone sat down to rest.

What could you do? Could you look closely at the tracks with Argos and read which way your friend walked? Which clues point one way, and which point the other?

When you follow the right trail, Argos gives a happy little bark and trots on. You are on the scent now.

Argos lowered his nose to the sand and set off, and you went after him along the shining edge of the sea. He did not hurry. Every few steps he stopped at some small mark, breathed it in, and glanced back to see that you were watching too.

The beach was written all over with clues, if you only looked. Here was a footprint pressing deep where someone had stood thinking. Here was a fig, dropped and forgotten. Here was a wide scuff in the sand where a tired traveller had sat down to rest, and beyond it the footprints carried on in one clear direction.

Which way did your friend walk? Will you crouch with Argos and read the tracks together, telling the marks that lead onward from the marks that lead nowhere? Argos will tell you if you are warm.

When you chose the trail the clues pointed to, Argos gave a single bright bark, as if to say yes, that is it, and trotted on with his tail high. The scent was yours now, and the search had truly begun.

The trail leads you in among the sunlit rock pools, where the sea has left little ponds full of shells and crabs. The keepsake brushed past one of these pools, but which one?

There are three pools. Beside the first lies a white shell. Beside the second lies a striped shell. Beside the third lies a smooth grey pebble.

Argos sniffs and tells you two things. The scent went past a striped shell, not a white one. And the scent did not stop where the pebble was.

Can you remember the clues? Which pool had the striped shell and no pebble? That is where your friend rested, and dropped a thread from his cloak.

When you work out the second pool, you find the thread caught on a rock, pointing the way on. Argos wags his tail. Well thought!

The trail led you in among the tide pools, those sunlit little ponds the sea leaves behind on the rocks, each one bright with shells and darting crabs. Somewhere here your friend had stopped, and the keepsake had brushed past the lip of one pool. But there were three of them, and they all glittered the same in the sun.

Beside the first pool lay a single white shell. Beside the second lay a striped shell, brown and cream. Beside the third lay a smooth grey pebble, round as an egg.

Argos snuffled carefully all along the rocks, then sat and looked at you, and you understood that he had found two clues for you to hold in your heads. The scent, he seemed to say, had passed a striped shell, and not a white one. And the scent had not lingered where the grey pebble lay.

Can you keep both clues in mind at once? Not the white-shell pool, because the scent passed a striped shell. Not the pebble pool, because the scent did not stop there. So which pool is left? That is where your friend sat down to rest, and where a loose thread slipped from the hem of his cloak.

When you pointed to the second pool, the one with the striped shell and no pebble, there it was: a thread of wool snagged on a rock, lying like a little arrow that pointed on along the shore. Argos thumped his tail against the sand. Well thought, his bright eyes said. Well remembered.

The trail ends at a lonely dune, far along the shore, where the wind has been piling the sand all day. Somewhere here the keepsake fell, and the wind has half buried it.

Argos sniffs in big circles, then stops at one spot and looks at you, ears up.

What could you do? Could you watch where Argos points his nose and dig there, very gently, together? Look for a corner of olive wood in the sand.

When you brush the sand away, there it is: the little carved token, warm from the sun. Argos digs the last of it free with one careful paw and drops it into your hands.

On and on the trail went, until the ships were small behind you, and it ended at a lonely dune where the wind had been busy all the long afternoon, lifting the pale sand and letting it fall. If the keepsake had dropped here, the wind had spent hours tucking it out of sight.

Argos cast about in slow, careful circles, his nose low, until all at once he stopped quite still, one paw lifted, his ears pricked up, and stared down at a single patch of sand as if he could see straight through it.

Will you trust his faithful nose? Will you kneel where he points and dig, gently and together, brushing the loose sand aside a handful at a time, watching for one warm corner of olive wood?

You swept the sand away, and there it was, a glint of carved wood waking in the sunlight. Argos finished the job himself, scooping the last of the sand free with one soft, careful paw, and then he lifted the little token up in his mouth as proud as anything and laid it, warm and whole, into your waiting hands.

You hurry back along the shore to the Ship Camp, the keepsake held safe. When Lykos sees it, his face lights up like the sunrise.

"You found it! You came back for it!" he cries, and he hugs the little token, and then he hugs Argos, who wags so hard he nearly falls over.

Odysseus the Bright smiles and says, "You did not leave a friend behind. That is the best idea there ever was." Out on the bright waves, Thetis the Sea-Mother lifts her gentle face and smiles upon you.

The ships can sail home now, every friend and every treasure safe aboard. Well done, heroes. Well done, Argos. Nobody was left behind.

You ran back along the shore with the keepsake held close and safe, the ships growing tall again ahead, Argos bounding beside you with his ears flying. And when Lykos looked up and saw what you carried, his whole face opened like the morning.

"You found it," he whispered, and then he was laughing and crying at once. "You came all that way back for it. You came back for me." He cradled the little olive-wood token, and then he threw his arms around Argos, who wagged so mightily he nearly toppled them both into the sand.

Odysseus the Bright watched, and there was something soft in his bright face. "A strong arm could not have done this," he said. "Only faithful hearts that would not leave a friend behind. That is the best idea there ever was, and you have it." And far out where the bright waves rolled, Thetis the Sea-Mother lifted her gentle face from the water and smiled upon you, and the sea lay calm and kind for the voyage ahead.

So the ships sailed home at sunset with every friend aboard and every treasure safe, and not one single thing, and not one single soul, was left behind on the windswept shore. Well done, heroes. Well done, good Argos. You kept faith, and you came home together.