By Gary Paulsen
Mark's solo tenting journey within the wilderness becomes a terrifying and exciting odyssey while a mysterious beam of sunshine transports him to a different time on what seems to be one other planet. As Mark searches for a pathway again to his personal time on the earth, he needs to make a brand new existence in a brand new global. His encounters with primitive tribes carry the enjoyment of human bonds, yet violence and struggle as well--and, ultimately, a competition during which he discovers his personal startling powers.
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Additional resources for The Transall Saga
Example text
Dream ... or whatever it is, I need to find water. Careful to skirt the quicksand, Mark made his way through a wall of brush to a large red meadow of tall wavy grass where he could actually see patches of sky. But instead of the bright blue color that had been there yesterday the sky was a hazy yellow. A rabbitlike creature with long, curly hair hopped across the clearing on its hind legs like a kangaroo. When it saw him the fuzzy thing bounced away. Mark watched the animal disappear. I feel like Alice in Wonderland.
At the first limb he came to, he stopped. He sat for a long time just clinging to the vine and trying not to look down. Willie had climbed past him and was clicking at him from the top branches. Mark looked up and saw him swinging back and forth from one limb to another. Above Willie, Mark spotted a cluster of tree rocks dangling from the end of a long branch and half hidden under the wide leaves. He tied the vine around his waist and worked his way up to the next limb. Once he made it to the end of the long narrow branch, the tree rocks were easy to pick.
Mark darted from one tree to the next, trying to remain hidden. Soon a vaguely familiar sound reached his ears. Water. They walked to a small creek that wound its way through the sand and trees. Mark crept as close as he dared and watched. The girls had dark, olive-colored skin and small eyes with an extra fold of skin on the lids. They spoke a strange clicking language. One walked with a limp and didn’t carry a pot. She knelt to drink from the trickling creek and Mark could see the soles of her feet.