But she wasn't a horse and she could think of no practical way to make herself into one. Cindy went to their last night's camp, and when her eye was attracted by something bright among the foliage, she picked up the coil of fine wire that Cal Macklin thought he was putting into his pocket last night. Instead, he must have dropped it. Cindy slipped the coil into her own pocket. Kicking idly among last year's withered leaves, she uncovered a brown-shelled acorn. She picked it up, cracked it with her teeth, and immediately puckered her lips. Cindy spat the acorn out. It was better to be hungry than to feel as though she had a mouth full of flannel. [Illustration] She returned to the camp, looked at the skillet and knife Pete had used, and conjured up fond memories of the glorious feast they'd enjoyed last night. Suddenly inspired by the thought that more water might help, she returned to the creek, and chance alone brought her opposite the pool on the far bank. The big fish were still there, lying sluggishly in the bottom of the pool until such time as they fared forth to catch more minnows. Near them was a pile of driftwood, and Cindy's fertile mind produced a wonderful idea. Looking all around, she saw nobody. It followed, therefore, that nobody could see her; the creek had four-foot banks, and grass grew on top of those. Stripping to her underwear, Cindy took her clothing in her arms and waded into the creek. The water was cold at first, and she shrank from it. But it felt warmer after a second, and she began to enjoy it. As she waded, she located a chunk of log among the driftwood. And as soon as she was in shallow water on the other side of the creek, she acted swiftly. Throwing her clothes down on the bank, she picked up the log and dropped it across the narrow entrance to the pool. Seeing her, the big fish swam frantically toward the creek. But they couldn't pass the log, and they did not like to stay in such shallow water. They swam back into the pool, dashed here and there, and finally came to rest almost where they had been before. Cindy proceeded with the next part of her plan. She took the coil of wire from her jeans, picked up a long, dead branch, and tied the wire to its end. In the other end of the wire she made a sliding loop. Careful to ruffle the water no more than was necessary, she let her loop sink. [Illustration] The first fish she touched on the nose, and that sent all of them into another panic. But they all came back again, and on Cindy's second try, the loop settled nicely over a fish. Cindy jerked the pole, tightened the loop, and yanked out a wriggling bass. One was not enough; she thought she herself could eat all fifteen of the big fish if only she had them--but after she caught one more, hunger triumphed.