They reached the ridge just after noon.

Sophie took off her pack and lay flat on the warm stone. Wind sat beside her. They were both very tired.

After a while, Sophie sat up and opened the map.

“Here.”

She pointed to the ridge on the map, then to a thin blue line starting just below where they had crossed.

“A stream. Look where it goes.”

Wind leaned over her shoulder.

The line wound into a valley. Beside it, in small faded letters, someone had written Butterfly Valley.

There was a little mark for a campsite.

“It's so close! I can't wait to see the butterflies and swim in the stream,” Sophie said.

Wind looked down the far side of the ridge. He could see the first few turns of the stream before the trees hid it.