*****
You've hiked through Snake Canyon once before while visiting your Uncle Howard at Red Creek Ranch, but you never noticed any cave entrance.  It looks as though a recent rock slide has uncovered it.

Though the late afternoon sun is striking the opening of the cave, the interior remains in total darkness.  You step inside a few feet, trying to get an idea of how big it is.  As your eyes become used to the dark, you see what looks like a tunnel ahead, dimly lit by some kind of phosphorescent material on its walls.  The tunnel walls are smooth, as if they were shaped by running water.  After twenty feet or so, the tunnel curves.  You wonder where it leads.  You venture in a bit further, but you feel nervous being alone in such a strange place.  You turn and hurry out.

A thunderstorm may be coming, judging by how dark it looks outside.  Suddenly you realize the sun has long since set, and the landscape is lit only by the pale light of the full moon.  You must have fallen asleep and woken up hours later.  But then you remember something even more strange.  Just last evening, the moon was only a slim crescent in the sky.

You wonder how long you've been in the cave.  You are not hungry.  You don't feel you have been sleeping.  you wonder whether to try to walk back home by moonlight or whether to wait for dawn, rather than risk losing your footing on the steep and rocky trail.

[If you decide to wait, turn to page 5.]

You wait until morning, but, as the rosy wisps of dawn begin to light the eastern sky, a chill and forbidding wind begins to blow.

[If you seek shelter, turn to page 6.]

You step into a niche in the rocks to escape the merciless blast of wind and lean back against the rock wall.  Suddenly it crumbles under your weight, causing you to fall backward down a muddy slope and into a pond.

The sun shines brightly down on you as you pick yourself up, dripping wet, and wade to the grassy shore.  You look back at the rock, rising out of the pond, but you can't see where you fell through.

While you are collecting your senses, a horse comes prancing up, its rider dressed in tin armor -- a knight out of the history books -- enough to make you laugh.  The horseman lifts off his helmet and laughs himself.

"What a place for a bath!" he calls out.  "Well, it was worth it -- you're cleaner than a pig!"  He almost falls off his horse, he is laughing so hard.  "But climb on and I'll take you back to the castle," he says.  "We'll see if we can't make a human out of you yet."

[If you accept the ride back to the castle, turn to page 22.]

The laughing knight helps you up on his horse and you sit uncomfortably as it canters over the countryside.  After traveling a mile or so, you come to a great, stone castle.  The horse trots across the drawbridge and into the stable.

"Jump," the knight calls to you, and you slide off the rear of the horse.  The knight escorts you into the grand chamber of the castle.  All about you are stewards, attendants, and knights.  A few minutes later you find yourself bowing before the King himself.

After hearing your story, the King looks gravely at his advisors and knights and stewards.  "Does anyone believe this tale?" he asks.

Everyone cries back, "No, Your Majesty," or "Certainly not, Your Majesty."

"Then tell us the truth!" the King roars at you.

[If you try to make up a plausible story, turn to page 37.]

"I'm sorry to have intruded upon your royal domain, Your Majesty." you say humbly, trying to think up a good story as fast as you can.  "It is true, sire, I have been badly mistreated by my wicked stepfather, with whom I live, and I place myself under your wise and just protection."

"Who is this wicked stepfather and where does he live?" the King asks.  "If he is wicked enough, we may want him t be one of our knights," he adds, laughing, as do all the courtiers.

"He lives beyond that hill," you say, pointing toward a high wooded ridge, "and his name is Smith."

The King laughs once again.  "Then your stepfather must be a fish," he says, "for beyond yonder hill is Loch Ness."

[Turn to page 11.]

"Off to the tower," the King shouts.  Two knights leap forward, drag you out of the chamber, and, with spears at your back, force you to climb forty-eight stone steps to the tower prison -- a tiny cylindrical room with one small window looking out over the moat and pasture land beyond.  The only furniture is a bed of straw.

You realize you are back in the early days of feudal Europe, where the only laws are the King's whims.  You have no idea how long he intends to keep you in the tower.  There is one possibility of escape.  The water in the moat, about twenty-five feet almost directly below your window, is quite deep.  If you jump out far enough, you should land in the deep water and not be hurt.

[If you jump, turn to page 12.]

You jump far out and fall faster and faster.  you enter the water feet first and hit bottom, but the soft mud receives you gently.  In a few seconds you reach the surface.  You swim to the outer banks of the moat, shaken but unharmed.  you scramble up the bank and run for the cover of the forest.

You walk along the edge of the forest until well out of sight of the castle, then head across the open countryside.  You stop a peasant to ask him where you might stay for the night.

"Walk up that hill and you'll see before you the waters of Loch Ness," he says.  "You'll find a place there."

You follow his directions and, seeing some little houses near the lake, proceed toward them.  Darkness is setting in, and you are glad when you meet a fisherman who says he will give you shelter for the night.  He and his wife are kindly people; they invite you to stay and earn your keep by helping them fish.

[If you accept, turn to page 66.]

You accept the offer, for you can hardly expect a better life at this point, and soon you begin to enjoy rowing out in the early morning mists and spreading your nets with the neighboring fishermen.

One afternoon, as the people are pulling up their boats for the night, your friend, Angus McPhee, raises a cry and points at the water. You look out and see the great head and neck of a sea monster -- a huge dragon in the lake. Nearby, splinters of wood are floating in the water.

"That was Sutherland's boat," Angus cries out. "It's been a hundred years since the monster has been seen, but now it has returned!"

The monster swims away and is soon lost from view in the mists.

"How could the monster be gone for a hundred years and then return?" you ask Angus.

"Somewhere near Beatty's Point," he replies, "there is an underwater cave where the monster stays as long as it pleases -- because it is a Cave of Time."

If only you could find your way back to the Cave of Time! But chances seem slim, and the risks seem great.

[If you try, turn to page 70.]

One day when the sun is bright and the water as warm as it's likely to get, you take an old skiff and row to Beatty's Point. You pull your boat up on the rocky shoal that marks the cave. You dive again and again along the rock wall that drops into the depths until you find the entrance. You swim a few feet inside and find you can get up to the surface inside an enormous cavern, most of it filled by an underground lake.

You reach the shore and walk along the lakeside, deeper and deeper into the cavern, which is lit by a mysterious blue light. Then, ahead, you see what you had hoped to find -- a tunnel that surely must lead to the Cave of Time. Nearby in the sand are three eggs that are as large as footballs. You pick one up and carry it into the tunnel. After walking awhile, the air becomes hard to breathe. You begin to feel dizzy and fall unconscious to the ground, still clutching the enormous egg.

You are awakened by a fresh breeze blowing toward you. You dizzily get to your feet, pick up the egg, and hurry toward the fresh air -- outdoor again in Snake Canyon! Everything is as your remember it and in a few hours you are walking up to the ranch, where your uncle says he is surprised you got back so quickly!

When you tell what has happened to you, no one at the ranch believes it, though they are fascinated by your enormous egg.

"Maybe we'll believe that egg is real -- and believe your story -- if it will hatch a monster," your uncle says, "or if you break it open to show us what's inside."

[If you decide to break the egg open, turn to page 72.]

With your aunt and uncle and some ranch hands standing by, you very gently tap the egg with an axe, hoping it will split open without fragmenting.

"Wait a minute!" Uncle Howard cries out. "I'm ready to believe you, but I think we better get a naturalist down from the University to see this first."

You are relieved that your uncle feels this way, because it seems like a terrible responsibility -- cracking open an egg like that and possibly killing a rare monster before it is born.

Uncle Howard calls the naturalist, a famous professor of paleontology, who agrees to come down the following Saturday. You place the egg in a large bowl in the middle of the dining room table.

The next day is Friday, and that evening the whole family goes out to the movies. When you return, you find the house has been broken into and the egg is missing.

Neither you, your aunt and uncle, nor any of the ranch hands, nor the police are ever able to find the egg. Most people you tell your story to just smile and say, "Sure." But Uncle Howard, even though he is a skeptical man, tells you he knows you were telling the truth.

The End