Pyro Watson and the Hidden Treasure Read Online Free PDF

the man at the shop said. It’s shallow. And, guess what?’
    Mr Stig and Pyro didn’t dare. They were both looking at the rubber and glass that were all there’d be between them and the ocean floor and all who lived down there.
    â€˜There’s an actual wobbegong living there. And under the ledge, the man said, there’s an octopus.’
    Pyro felt his face tingle. His mother would have quickly sat him down and made him put his headbetween his knees but Auntie Mor didn’t seem to notice.
    She noticed Mr Stig though. ‘Gosh,’ she said. ‘You’ve gone all white, Stig! You should see yourself.’
    â€˜I know what an octopus is but … what’s a wobbegong?’
    Pyro was holding his goggles between two fingers. ‘It’s a shark,’ he said.
    â€˜It’s not, really.’ Auntie Mor had slipped her goggles on which was making her talk funny. ‘Well, maybe … but it won’t hurt. It just sits around on the bottom pretending to be seaweed.’
    Mor pushed her snorkel into her mouth. It flopped down and nearly pulled her lips off her face.
    â€˜Put yours on,’ she said as soon as she’d patted her mouth better. ‘Put it through that loop at the top first.’
    Mr Stig took a long time to get his snorkel right. Pyro took even longer. He’d rather hoped that if he went slowly enough the clouds that lurked about on the horizon might hurry across and dump some rain on them.
    â€˜I think it’s going to rain,’ he said hopefully, glancing towards the fluffy smoke-sized puffs out over the sea.
    â€˜I think so, too,’ said Stig. He put his snorkel on the table. ‘Can’t do it in the rain.’
    Auntie Mor looked from Mr Stig to Pyro and back again. ‘You’re scared, aren’t you?’
    Stig looked at Pyro. ‘I’ve never been in a shark pond before,’ he said.
    Pyro hadn’t either. ‘And Mr Stig can’t swim properly yet.’
    He might have said that Mr Stig couldn’t really swim at all. And he, Pyro Watson, was really only good at dog-paddle for a short distance.
    Auntie Mor looked out at the ocean. The ocean winked back at her. ‘You’ll be fine,’ she said. ‘Honestly. Would I put you two in danger?’
    Mr Stig didn’t look too sure but Pyro was reasonably certain his mother wouldn’t be too thrilled if Mor let him be eaten by a wobbegong.
    â€˜We’ll sink,’ he said.
    â€˜Course you won’t.’ She held up the foam things. They were yellow and bright enough to dazzle the sun. ‘Use your noodles! Come on, you lot! Let’s get to it.’

The reef lay on the outer edge of a rock platform. It was shaped like a Roman bath. Pyro didn’t know what a Roman bath was but Auntie Mor explained all about them as they clambered down the steep cliff face which overlooked this part of the coast.
    â€˜It’s perfectly safe,’ she said when they’d finally crossed the crazy crisscrossed paving of the wide rock ledge. ‘See …’ She pointed to the edge of the rocky platform where the sea lapped away, trying with each new wave to leap high enough to peer over. ‘There’s a rock ledge between this pool and the sea. Nothing can swim in here …’
    Mr Stig and Pyro looked at her.
    â€˜â€¦ well, almost nothing ever does. That wobbegong has lived here for years, the man said. Look.’
    They had reached a low ledge where white sand had formed a gently sloping crescent-shaped beach. They stepped down. The ledge reached only to Pyro’s thighsand the water, even at the centre, didn’t have the dark, sneaky look of deep water. It had a dappled dark bottom though, as if the sand had been pushed aside by rocks. The edges of the pool had lots of shadowy places as well.
    â€˜I’ll just paddle here,’ Pyro said. ‘You two can go out there. I’ll be fine.’
    Auntie Mor