[It's January 1752, and thirteen-year-old Hans has just left his family farm to work for an innkeeper in Rhinebeck, on the Post Road between New York and Albany. Hans took the little stone owl with him to remind him of home.]

Hans was almost asleep in the stable behind the inn, wrapped in two blankets and buried under a heap of fresh hay for extra warmth. The horses quietly whickered in their stalls.
Hans didn't mind the company of the animals. Every night there were different horses belonging to the travelers, and Hans imagined that they were sharing bits of news from the horses' point of view, just as their masters shared their own over tankards of cider in the tavern.
One of the horses, a big chestnut stallion, was a real beauty. He stood so high that Hans had a hard time lifting the handsome saddle from his back, but the horse waited patiently. In the kitchen, while Hans was eating his supper, the new cook had told him that the horse alone was worth more than a farmer earned in a year and that its owner was in fact a famous pirate traveling in disguise.
"How do you know that?" asked Hans, his eyes wide.
"I have my ways," replied the cook, rubbing his thumb and forefinger together as if holding a coin.
Hans sensed an unpleasantness behind the man's smile.
"Now don't you be telling what ain't your business," the man said gruffly. He ladled another spoonful of greasy stew into Hans's bowl. It certainly wasn't as good as Mama's, but Hans was awfully hungry.
Thinking about the pirate kept Hans from drifting off to sleep. He parted his woolen jacket to make sure that the little stone owl was still safely in his pocket. It kept him company when he felt lonely.
Then he heard muffled sounds from outside the stable door.
Two men entered the stable, their boots scuffing on the dirt floor. One held a lantern covered with a dark cloth to dim its glow.
"First the horse, then quick up the back way to his room. I'll wager all his gold won't save his life!" said a rough voice.
"I won't mind being the man that cuts the pigtail off Bold Ned!" boasted the other.
Hans realized three things at the same instant. The pirate guest was none other than Bold Ned, known as one of the fiercest pirates on the Caribbean! And the two men were going to rob and kill him and steal his horse! And one of those men was the greasy new cook!
Barely daring to breathe, Hans tried to think of what he could do to stop them. Because he was covered by hat in the corner of the stable, he hadn't been seen-which meant that he had the element of surprise on his side. He swallowed hard and tried to think fast.
What strength would a thirteen-year-old boy have against two cutthroats?
He heard the men saddling the big chestnut stallion and another strong black horse. They led them toward the stable door, talking in hushed voices.
How could he stop them? Pirate or not, an innkeeper couldn't let a guest be murdered in his bed. But if the robbers discovered him in the stable, they would finish him off first.
"I have to chance it," whispered Hans to himself. He thought he could get a clear view of the men as they neared the open door.
Stealthily he withdrew the stone owl from his pocket. Jumping from the hay, he hurled the stone with all his might at the cook's head. It struck him smack on the forehead and sent him reeling against his partner in surprise.
The other man recovered first and turned toward Hans. He was pointing the largest pistol that Hans had ever seen. The pistol roared, a smoky red explosion. The man shot again, a little wildly. The horses screamed in fear.
"Idiot!" shouted the cook. "You'll wake them all!" He lurched toward Hans with a shiny long knife in his hand.
"Stay where you are," commanded a tall figure in the doorway. It was the pirate Bold Ned, fully dressed, with a pistol in each hand.
Behind him stood the innkeeper, awakened by the gunshots.
"Are you all right, lad?" called the pirate.
"I'm fine, sir," replied Hans, his voice cracking.
The two thieves were speedily tied up and held for the sheriff. The horses were quieted and the household began to settle down.
"Just how did you stop them, Hans?" asked Bold Ned, leaning against the inn's railing, as cool as could be. His dark suit and white ruffled shirt weren't the least rumpled after the tussle with the robbers. His leather boots were polished to a shine.
"I threw my stone owl at the cook," said Hans. "My charm against feeling homesick, sir," he explained.
The pirate looked puzzled until Hans showed him the owl. He had crawled around in the dirt near the stable door until he had found it again, none the worse for wear.
"Now why would you be homesick, lad?" asked Bold Ned. "Don't you live here at the inn with your family?"
"No, sir." So Hans told him all about his plans to learn innkeeping and buy a place of his own someday. The pirate listened thoughtfully.
When Hans fell silent, suddenly afraid that he had blabbered on too long, the man reached into his waistcoat and pulled out a small drawstring purse.
"You saved my life, Hans," he said, "and I am in your debt. To show my gratitude, here's a bit of change to put toward buying that inn when you're older." He handed the purse to Hans with a wink.
"Oh, thank you, sir!" said Hans, unable to believe his good fortune.
"I had best be on my way now, before daylight," said the traveler, picking up his heavy saddlebags.
"Tell me, sir," said Hans, unable to resist the temptation. "Are you truly the pirate they call Bold Ned?"
"What's your guess?" The man laughed as he swung up into the saddle of the beautiful chestnut stallion. He trotted past the gate and headed north on the road to Albany.
Hans watched him go, almost too excited to peek into the drawstring purse. Was it really stuffed with Spanish gold doubloons?
Wait until he showed them to Jacob, stuck at home on the farm.

To find out where the owl travels next, get a copy of Owl's Journey!