It all started two weeks ago. William, my dad and I were out for a walk along the River Dee. Our dogs, Tigger and Widgeon, were with us. We were having a great time, walking on the rocks, playing fetch with the dogs, and spending some good quality time with each other. I picked up a good-sized stone and threw it into the woods. Widgeon barked excitedly and ran after it, his tail wagging furiously. Will, Papa and I were having a good giggle together, when Widgeon started barking. At first, we thought it was his regular bark, but then I sensed the urgency in it.
Will and I glanced at each other curiously, then we tore into the woods as fast as we could go. When we found Widge, he was digging mercilessly into the soft ground. Will ran up to him and held him back from his digging. While he struggled to hold Widge back, I decided to investigate where the dog had been digging. My eyes must've gotten wide, because Will became concerned.
"What's wrong? What is it, Harry?" he asked me.
"Oh, my gosh, Will! Look at this! Old Widge found a burial site of some sort," I replied.
Will bent to take a closer look. He squinted at a thing that looked like a white stick. He whistled low. "Wow, a bone."
"Is it human?" I asked.
"I can't tell ya, buddy," he said, looking up at me. "Maybe we should get Papa..."
At that moment, my dad came around a nearby oak tree."William, Harry, is something wrong? I was wondering what was keeping you two."
"Papa, have a look at this! Widge found a human bone!" I exclaimed.
"Now, hold on one second, little bro. We don't know if it's human or not," Will said.
"It sure looks like it, doesn't it?" Papa commented. "Hmm, maybe someone back at the castle would know. Come on; let's head back. Leave the bone where it is and we'll come back tomorrow morning."
Yeah, right. Tomorrow was when the press would be coming for the photo shoot. We had one two years ago, right before Mummy died, and that was bad enough. There'll probably be thousands of them this time. Yeesh, they're so bossy, too.
"William, look over here!"
"Come on, Will, give us a smile! All your admirers want another picture!"
"That's it, Harry. Look this way!"
I really dislike the press. Oh, well. A few hundred pictures, and then they're gone, right? That's what I thought.
The next day started out normal. A quick walk along the river before breakfast, and a big breakfast with Grandma. Everything went along smoothly. Will and I decided to just forget about the bone. We were going to wait until the photographers left, then go study it again.
The morning flew by, and two o'clock in the afternoon soon rolled around. It was time for the shoot. Papa, dressed in his kilt and sweater, led the way. William and I followed, both wearing khakis and blue dress shirts. Will was complaining about how his head was hot; his blond hair attracted the sun. My red hair felt warm, too, but I didn't complain.
Just as we thought, hundreds of photographers were standing on the grass, waiting for us. Papa casually strolled towards the river with his walking stick, Tigger and Widgeon right on his heels. William walked stiffly past the press, showing his obvious hatred towards them. I, on the other hand, smiled and walked happily towards my dad and brother. Even though I didn't like them either, I knew what they wanted. I knew from experience that if you gave them what they wanted, they'd finish sooner; therefore leaving sooner.
Papa stood on the rocks next to the River Dee. Will stood to his left, and I to his right. Papa and I looked at the cameras and smiled, but William put his hands on his hips and looked at the ground.
"Come on, William, look up for us," the photographers called out. Finally he looked up, smiling, long enough to please them.
"Thank you, sir," they called.
After a few more pictures, they told us to walk around and pretend they weren't there. Papa strolled along, looking content, while I happily scampered over the rocks. Will was throwing rocks into the river, and Widge joyfully ran in after them. At one point, a photographer walked up to me and told me he was from some animal magazine. Apparently, he was on a mission to get pictures of the "Royal Dogs." He was wondering if I could get Tigger and Widge to do some exciting things in front of the camera.
I think the stupidest thing I did that day was to do what that man said. I agreed and picked up a rock. Not knowing what would happen, I hurled the rock into to woods with all my might. Widge barked and ran after it. It was then that I realized what I had done.
"No!" Will cried.
"Widgeon!" I shouted. "Come, boy! Get back here!"
Widge didn't listen, and before I knew it, he was back up to the place where he had found the bone. His rambunctious barking made the man from the animal magazine curious. Before I could stop him, he was walking into the woods as if he owned them. He followed the sound of Widge's bark, and was soon calling for everyone to come. By the time I made it through the millions of photographers, they had already begun snapping away at the bone. That was the beginning of the end of my vacation.
Before nightfall, important magazine editors and archaeologists were swarming in and out of the woods. Will and I were trapped inside the castle for two reasons. One, they said we'd be in the way. Two, if we did go outside, they'd take a million more pictures of us. Our calm, secluded home in Scotland had been turned into a huge archaeological site.
After a week of this, we finally found out what the skeleton was. It wasn't a human, as we thought. It seemed to be a creature unknown to modern science. Anyway, in about a week, I'll be returning to Eton for another year. I usually wish I could stay here at Balmoral for another year, but this time, I'll be glad to get away from it. All because of one lousy bone, my vacation was ruined!
