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The ducklings were heading out for their first swim.
“I want to come too!” quacked Dora.
“Hurry up!” called her brother. “You’re always so slow!” And with that, he slipped under the gate with the other ducks.
“Where’s my brother?” Dora cried.
“Can’t you find your brother?” asked the frog, perking up. “I heard something! Ducks were quacking just a moment ago. And look! Aren’t those duck tracks?”
Dora and the frog followed the trail all the way to a large nest of straw. “Here he is!” the frog exclaimed.
“That’s not my brother!” Dora quacked. “It’s a hen!”
The hen smiled. “Lost your brother? Maybe those tracks over there will lead you better luck!”
“This way!” shouted the frog, pointing toward a muddy path.
“Are you sure?” asked Dora. “It looks messy.”
Suddenly, they heard a splashing sound behind a tree. “That sounds like your brother!” said the frog.
“That’s not my brother!” Dora quacked. “It’s a pig!”
The pig looked up from its mud puddle. “Looking for your brother? Try following those fresh tracks over there!”
They followed the prints through a clover field where the grass was so tall they could barely see. “I don’t think these are duck tracks,” said Dora, just as a deep voice called out—”MOO!”
“That’s not my brother!” Dora quacked. “It’s a cow!”
The cow chewed its dinner lazily. “Try those little tracks where the grass is thinner.”
At the barn, the frog thought they’d found him. “He sneaked through the gate—probably to steal some wheat!”
“That’s not my brother!” Dora quacked. “It’s a mouse!”
The mouse squeaked, “Our tracks are here, but who made those prints by the flowers?”
In the garden, they stopped at a rosebed. “Look, his feet! Your brother’s hiding behind those pink petals!” the frog shouted.
“That’s not my brother!” Dora quacked. “It’s a goat!”
The goat munched on a sweater. “Follow the tracks to that trough over there.”
By the trough, the frog yelled, “Who’s splashing around over there?”
“It must be him!” Dora cheered—then sighed. “That’s not my brother! It’s a puppy!”
The puppy barked, “Try the pond! Maybe he’s there!”
At the pond, no ducks were in sight… until Dora spotted clear webbed footprints. “The puppy was right! These are definitely his tracks… and all my brothers’ too!”
And so, Dora was finally reunited with her brother and the whole duckling flock.
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