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they could turn off to reach the section that was good for swimming.
    Agnes stayed ahead of her sister, even though they could have ridden side by side. The traffic on this road was practically nonexistent, even at the height of the summer. Agnes always wanted to be slightly ahead. She had plucked a blade of grass from the roadside and was sucking on it; she liked the taste of the fresh sap.
    The dirt road first wound its way through the woods, and then the landscape opened before them. Fields and pastures stretched out side by side down toward the water, which was visible almost the whole time. Several farms were located along the road, with horses, cows, and sheep grazing. At the last whitewashed farm building on the road, they biked past a large pasture before they turned off to go down to the beach. The horses—three Gotland ponies and a Norwegian fjording— were outside day and night at this time of year, along with the shaggy Gotland sheep. The rams were splendid with their twisting horns like pretzels on each side of their head. Sometimes the farmer allowed the girls to ride the ponies. He had a daughter who was a few years older, and if she felt like it she would let them come along for a ride. Agnes and Sofie visited their grandmother and grandfather often. They spent large parts of their summer vacation here in Petesviken in southwestern Gotland while their parents stayed home in Visby to work.
    "Wait a minute. Let's say hi to the horses," Agnes suggested as she stopped at the fence.
    She clicked her tongue and whistled, which had an immediate effect. The animals stopped grazing, raised their heads, and came trotting over to the girls.
    The biggest ram started bleating. Then another and another, until they all joined in. The animals crowded around the gate, hoping for a treat. The girls patted all of them as best they could. They didn't dare venture inside the fence when they were alone.
    "Where's Pontus?"
    Agnes surveyed the pasture. There were only three horses. Their favorite pony, a black-and-white dappled gelding, was missing.
    "Maybe he's over in the trees."
    Sofie pointed to the narrow grove of trees that stretched like a dark green ribbon down the middle of the pasture.
    The girls shouted and then waited a few minutes, but the pony didn't appear.
    "Forget about it," said Sofie. "Let's go swimming."
    "How strange that he doesn't come." Agnes frowned, looking worried. He was always so affectionate. Her eyes swept over the hillside, past the water trough, the salt licks, and the trees farther down the slope.
    "Oh well, never mind about him. He's probably lying down somewhere asleep." Sofie poked her sister in the side. "You're the one who wanted to go swimming. Come on." She got on her bike.
    "There's something wrong. We should at least be able to see where Pontus is."
    "They've probably taken him inside. Maybe Veronica is planning to go out riding."
    "But what if he's lying down somewhere and he's sick and can't get up! He could have broken his leg or something. We have to go and see."
    "Don't be silly. We'll say hi to him on our way back."
    Even though the ponies were gentle and small in size, Sofie had respect for them and wasn't eager to go into the pasture. The fjording was big and powerful and didn't seem trustworthy; he had kicked her once. The sheep were also a little scary with those big horns of theirs.
    Agnes paid no attention to her sister's protests. She opened the gate and went into the pasture.
    "Well, I, at least, have no intention of forgetting about Pontus," she snapped angrily.
    Sofie groaned loudly, to show her disapproval. Reluctantly she hopped off her bike and followed.
    "You'll have to go first," she muttered.
    Agnes clapped her hands and yelled to shoo off the animals, and they bounded off in all directions. Sofie kept close to her big sister and looked around uneasily. The tall grass tickled and scratched at their legs. They didn't say a word to each other. The pony was nowhere in