Lost in Bermooda

By Mike Litwin

Bermooda is a tropical island that is undiscovered by the outside world and is primarily populated by walking, talking cows of human intelligence. The cows came to the island hundreds of years ago by a ship carrying livestock that wrecked upon the shoals around the southern tip of the island. They have since formed their own quaint, mootpian tropical island society. Life is good on Bermooda, and the residents are mostly content to be unknowing of and unknown to the world beyond their horizons. Bermooda has no "outsiders," and most prefer to keep it that way. That is, until Chuck ventures into the boneyard alone and discovers a young human boy who has been washed up unconscious on the sandbar! The young boy's name is Dakota and doesn’t seem as scary as Chuck thought humans should be. Chuck decides to “cow-mouflage” Dakota to pass as a bovine in town. Dakota and Chuck become fast friends, but trouble is brewing and Dakota’s true identity is at risk of being discovered. In the end, Chuck's family adopts Dakota as their own calf.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Albert Whitman & Company
• Release date: Mar 1, 2015
• ISBN: 9780807587218

Mike Litwin

Mike Litwin is an award-winning illustrator who combines a variety of media to create scenes that serve the imagination and education of children. In other words, he's a big kid who gets paid to make pictures all day. It pretty much rocks. He is best known for his work on the New York Times best-selling picture books My Name is Not Isabella, My Name is Not Alexander, and Isabella: Girl on the Go.

Book preview

chapter 1

It was another perfect afternoon on the island of Bermooda. The sun was perfectly bright, the breeze was perfectly warm, and the waves sounded perfectly lovely as they rolled upon the soft, sandy beach. It was all perfect, just like every other day. It was the kind of perfection that made it seem like nothing in this tropical paradise could ever change. But life was about to change, and it would all start with a shout.

Chuck! Come back! You’re not supposed to go down there!

Patty Porter chased after her brother, who was quickly making his way down the cliff to the Boneyard. That was the one place on the whole island where their mother had told the two calves not to go. Come back here or I’m telling Mama! Do you hear me? Patty yelled.

Chuck heard her just fine, but he didn’t stop. Come on, don’t be such a scaredycow! he yelled back. Besides, it’s the middle of the day. What could happen? I’m going, with or without you.

"Fine! You can go without me!" Patty huffed. Off she trotted, until she and her pink flowered dress disappeared into the palm trees. Chuck didn’t care. Patty was always getting him in trouble anyway. Today he had bigger things on his mind. Today he was going to find a trinket.

Now Chuck would never admit this, but the Boneyard was a spooky place, even in the daytime. Chuck could almost feel ghostly things watching him as he tiptoed around the ancient shipwreck resting quietly in the sand. The cows of Bermooda called this shipwreck the Boneyard because its massive timbers jutted out of the ground like some giant, creepy skeleton.

Most of the wreck had been moved up to the island’s museum, but sometimes—if you were lucky—you could still find a little something buried in the sand. Something interesting. Something mysterious. Something left over from those legendary creatures called hu’mans. A trinket. That’s what he was looking for today.

The little cow poked a boat paddle around in the sand searching for stuff that he thought might be from the old shipwreck. After an hour or so, he stretched out his blanket and carefully placed all of the items he found on top. He wrinkled his nose and frowned as he surveyed his collection. All he had was a chunk of driftwood, a broken clamshell, three blunt whale teeth, and a sea sponge that looked a lot like a snout.

Rats! he mumbled. Last month, his whole class had been so impressed when Muster Cloverhoof brought in the old hu’man spoon he found in the Boneyard. After all daring thing for a calf to venture down into this haunted place. How could Chuck go back with nothing to show for it?

He had hoped to find something that would impress everyone and win a few friends. Chuck didn’t have many friends. He liked to think it was because he was such a daring loner, but it was really because he spent much of his time daydreaming and talking about places that didn’t exist. He imagined fantastic worlds over the horizon, far beyond the quiet shores of Bermooda.

This old shipwreck made him think of the amazing world the hu’mans must have come from. He had hoped that coming to the Boneyard would lead to something exciting, but so far he had found nothing but junk on an empty beach.

There’s no adventure here, he grumbled to himself. Not in the Boneyard or anywhere else on this boring island.

Then he saw something odd. Way out across the shallow pool inside the shoals, the waves were breaking funny. Something—or someone—was lying on one of the sandbars! Chuck hadn’t found anything on the beach and he did not want to go home empty-hooved. Should he dare go out there and see what it was? A warm breeze tickled his snout. He twitched his tail as he wondered.

Chuck pulled a plank from the shipwreck and dragged it to the shore. He bunched up his blanket full of junk and put it on the plank. He sat on the plank behind the blanket bundle and paddled the board like a canoe across the calm water. As he floated closer to the sandbar, he started to worry about what he would find there. Was it just a piece of a boat? An injured cow? A hungry shark playing dead? By the time Chuck reached the sand, he was terrified.

Chuck slowly inched closer to the lumpy blob lying in the surf. It wasn’t very big. In fact, it was