By Mary Pope Osborne
Jack and Annie are prepared for his or her subsequent fable event within the bestselling middle-grade series—the Magic Tree House!
Vampire bats and killer ants?
That's what Jack and Annie are approximately to run into whilst the Magic Tree condominium whisks them away to the Amazon River. It's no longer lengthy ahead of they get hopelessly misplaced. Will they manage to locate their as far back as the tree apartment? Or are Jack and Annie caught perpetually within the rain forest?
stopover at the Magic Tree apartment website!
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Additional resources for Afternoon on the Amazon (Magic Tree House, Book 6)
It was a gallant gesture on his part, since the passengers were on their way home to Haiti when their ship was captured. As soon as I heard that the Dauphine was to be sent to Port-au-Prince, I was determined to go with her. My brother had told me about the barracoon my father and his partner owned in that city, the warehouse in which they kept the men, women, and children the slave catchers caught in the surrounding hills. Getting up my nerve, I forthwith went to see Lieutenant Kell. I located him in his cabin, smoking an unlit pipe and reading a ten-day-old copy of the Shipping Gazette, which we had found on the Dauphine.
The 290 had arrived at the islands with its decks grimed with rubbish. But within a week they were sweet and clean, awnings snugly spread, yards squared to the inch, the rigging hauled tight, all brass ashine. And the men themselves were no longer a gang of derelicts but a crew smartly dressed and anxious to fight. This was the work of Captain Semmes. At first glance, as I have said, he might have been a Frenchman, with his trim shape, his huge mustache with pointed ends that he carefully waxed every morning and evening and wore a little net over at night—a man you might see at a Parisian cafe sipping cognac.
The five of us could not agree, so after some debate Carroll made up the list, sending me ashore with two companions, one of them being Lem Wilson. Far to the west, as I stood at the rail, the sea darkened and disappeared above the blue sea of the orange groves. At the foot of the mountain the lights of the city began to pick out fluttering shapes in the dusk. A light wind that smelled of orange trees was moving about. It was no random shape the lamps and the flambeaux slowly built up there below me, but a long, curved saber with its point resting in the jungle, its handle a half-mile away on the shore.
Afternoon on the Amazon (Magic Tree House, Book 6) by Mary Pope Osborne