Coming Home

[icefire]

Roasted ants...wouldn't be bad, although I (Spoiled, civilized creasture that I am) prefer mine to be covered in chocolate. Hm....they still have some Nutella, don't they? Nutella covered ants!

Thanks for keeping us entertained, Chris!

[FOTH]

Hmm...Nutella-covered ants! Doesn't sound bad at all.


No chapter for tonight, but I will have one ready for tomorrow.

Thank you all for your patience!

[felicia]

Thanks for the new chapter.

[FOTH]

Fueled by frequent snacks of roasted ants—little Will liked the things every bit as well as his father, and kept sneaking in to snatch a fistful from the roasting rock, until Liz realized what was happening and put them up—Einar and Liz stacked the roof timbers, creating a solid foundation for the mat of spruce duff and branches which would eventually provide insulation and waterproofing to the structure. Einar did not want to stop there, emptying everything out of the drop bag and going from evergreen to evergreen and digging down the snow in search of the piles of dry needles with which he hoped to thatch the roof. Some of the trees were too packed in with windblown snow to offer much in the way of needles, but beneath those with wider, denser canopies he found spots where little snow at all had accumulated, and here he worked to fill the bag with needles, hauling it out when full and dumping it at the bottom of the slanted roof timbers.

Liz prodded the pile with the toe of her boot, impressed that he had been able to retrieve so much nearly-dry material from beneath the snow. “Want me to start stacking the stuff while you go for another load?”

“Sure! Start at the bottom of the roof if you don’t mind, at the ground level, then when you get to the top overlap some of it onto the wall. That’ll help shed water when things thaw, and especially later when it starts raining.”

“Raining! It’ll be a while, but I hope we’re still here then. It would be nice to settle down for a while.”

“Hard to say where we’ll be by the time rain comes, but might as well be ready for it. Haven’t really been here long enough to get a good sense of what this place will be like, trapping and hunting-wise, but it sure is well concealed and off the beaten path. Don’t mind traveling some for game, if everything else is favorable.”

“No, I don’t mind that either. Maybe best not to be in a spot that has it all, because that might attract other people, even if just at hunting season. The less of that we have to worry about, the better!”

With a nod of agreement Einar was off to fill the drop bag with a second load of spruce needles, Liz starting at the bottom as she began thatching the roof, working her way up and trying her best to overlap rows of needles, picturing how water would flow and aiming to get it to flow to the ground and away, instead of seeping into the shelter. She wasn’t sure how well it would work, wished they had some aspen or cottonwood bark shingles to put over the improvised thatch, but supposed that could come later. For the moment it was far too cold and snowy for moisture intrusion to be an immediate concern. They just needed to get a sturdy roof over their heads, and one which would satisfy Einar as far as keeping the light and heat from their nighttime fires inside, and away from the prying eyes of anyone who might be passing in the sky. Already she had sensed his unease at having fires in the place on non-stormy nights, and she wanted to avoid, if at all possible, a decision on his part that they would have to do without except during rough weather. Though starting to eat more and looking like he really might keep at it, this time, she knew he would need all the energy he could consume simply to hold his ground and to hopefully begin rebuilding his body a bit. Wouldn’t do to have him spending it without fire for any significant length of time. The insulated roof, she hoped, would prevent any such need, and greatly reduce the amount of wood it would take to heat the little shelter, too.

Roof all thatched after four trips on Einar’s part and a good deal of work by Liz, the two of them stood inspecting their work, Einar nodding in satisfaction. “Ought to shed some water, looks like. Real nice job.”

“Do you think it’ll stay in place though, with nothing to hold it, or will it just slowly slide to the ground?”

“Oh, it’ll move some, especially if we get a big wind when there’s no snow on top to hold it down. A network of branches, even some live spruce boughs set over everything would really help secure it in place. What do you say we go cut some?”

They went, choosing trees some distance from the shelter and taking only one bough from each, not wanting to do anything to decimate the natural cover and protection afforded by the tangle of evergreens which surrounded them. Branches in place and the sun near to setting, they retreated into the shelter to enjoy the results of their day’s work. A good, solid roof overhead, stout wall behind them, and Liz began unpacking their things as Einar prepared the evening’s fire.

“Guess we can start putting up walls tomorrow, to fill in the sides?” Liz speculated.

“Yep. Will be a lot like the cabin up in the basin, when we get it done. Can do upright aspens, just like we did there. What do you say, should we leave a little window, this time?”

“Oh, I’d like that! Something with a closeable shutter so we can let light in during the day, but secure it against…oh, bears and bobcats and things, at night and when we’re away.”

Einar smiled. “Yeah, good idea. Though no bear or bobcat in its right mind would face off against a determined mountain woman and her rabbit stick, would he? No, sure don’t think so!”

“Hey, that reminds me…you’d better be finishing up this leftover moose stew, so I can have the pot to make some supper in. Unless you do want to find yourself on the wrong end of my rabbit stick, that is!”

“Hey, that’s not your rabbit stick, it’s my rabbit stick! Found it while I was out looking for that rabbit.”

“Well, looks like I’ve appropriated it for the moment! So, which will it be? Pre-dinner snack, or Wrath of the Rabbit Stick?”

“Oh, good as your stew is, rabbit stick sounds like more of an adventure, so guess I’ll just have to go with that…” And he laughed, keeping quite still when Liz swung at him instead of dodging as she had anticipated, which meant that he took a rather solid hit to the shoulder before she could interrupt her swing.

Einar was still laughing as Liz helped him up, brushed the snow from his clothes and tried to make sure he was alright, shaking his head and saying something about how he never had known her to miss anything she aimed at with rabbit stick, atlatl or bow, and probably never would see the day. “And now guess I’m going to have to help out with the stew anyway, aren’t I? Since you’re still needing that pot emptied for supper…”

To which she answered only with a bit of an exaggerated scowl and a playful shake of the rabbit stick, as she handed him the stewpot and settled beside him with Will on her lap.

[icefire]

Well, at least Einar is eating a bit more now. Maybe he'll finally be able to start rebuilding his body. He definitely needs it.

THanks for the new installment of the story.

[FOTH]

I don't have a chapter for today, but will tomorrow.

Have been processing and freezing mountain lion meat all afternoon, from a big 150lb male cat that was shot not too far above the place, here.

Here you can see the size of his paw, in relation to a human hand:



Thank you all for reading!

[FOTH]

Work on the shelter walls went fairly quickly the following morning, Einar going out before breakfast to collect a load of the timbers they would need, Liz helping him shorten and place some of them while the stew simmered. Already the place was feeling more enclosed, warmth of the fire lingering longer than it had done while held in by the parachute alone and force of the wind—when it managed to gust or draft thinly down into the protected little mountainside basin which held the shelter—greatly reduced. The spot was really showing some promise, and Liz was excited to see the shelter finished. But not before breakfast, for the stew, carefully assembled from the few bits of remaining moose meat, a few dried rosehips she’d found clinging to brambles on the basin’s edge and the bones of Einar’s rabbit, cracked for their marrow, was ready.

Einar, somewhat predictably, did not want to stop work to eat, would have happily gone on placing and securing upright timbers until the job was finished, but Liz—only half-joking about resorting to the rabbit stick if he didn’t listen—insisted they take a break, and Einar sat down with her to eat. Was feeling a bit ornery that morning, out of sorts after a night of rather vivid dreams and wanting very much to assert himself by refusing food for a day or two, but he knew he’d simply have to find some other way to get through the difficulty, that time. Had to eat, and not just because Liz wanted him to do it. Could feel, even after several days of better and more consistent nutrition, that his body was rather closer to the edge than it had been for some time, a deep chill in his bones and a heaviness in his limbs which left hands, feet and legs seizing up at the most inconvenient of moments and seemed at times certain to stop him in his tracks, and he knew that not only had he better keep on eating if he wanted to stay around, but had better be careful how he did it. Could hardly afford another bout, just then, of the sort of difficulties that had in the past left him struggling even to breathe, after a while, as his body had a hard time adjusting to the availability of more food after an extended period without. Could feel himself right on the edge of it there lately, even eating the way he had been. But the soup—all protein and fat, just what he needed—ought to be just fine, and with Liz being quietly insistent, he dug in.

Slowly enjoying his soup, Einar stared at the ceiling, setting aside his spoon and remaining motionless for so long that Liz began wondering what could have caught his attention. “Soon as we get the walls finished, what do you say we hang the parachute on the inside like a sort of tapestry, the way we discussed? Sure would brighten things up for you, reflect a lot of light from the fire and make it easier to work in there after dark.”

“Sure! It’ll be good for insulation, too, and really cut down on the drafts that come in.”

“Yep. Nothing wrong with making things more efficient, firewood wise. Though the occasional draft isn’t gonna do the little guy any harm, either. Help make him tough.”

“Oh, I don’t think there’s too much danger of him coming out any way but tough, living this life!” And I wasn’t so much thinking of Will’s benefit when it comes to preventing drafts as I was yours, anyway…though I’d better not be telling you that, had I? Or you’ll just have to go out and sleep on a snowy boulder every night for a week or something, just to prove me wrong!

Still not done with his soup—looking for any excuse to finish, aren’t you, Liz silently speculated—Einar rose and measured with his arms the distance from one end of the ceiling to the other, figuring how best to stretch and attach the parachute for maximum coverage and working out a means by which the material could even be doubled up in some places to provide better wind stoppage and insulation where wall joined roof and drafts were most likely to originate. Liz was impressed, but still wouldn’t go help him finish the stacking of uprights for the wall until he’d finished his soup. So, he did.

Discovering that they did not have enough small trees, even when cut to length, to fully enclose both walls, the two of them went after more, Einar doing most of the finding and Liz helping to carry. She would have done more of the searching and choosing, herself, had Will not decided with a seemingly unshakable certainty that he’d already spent more than enough time on her back for one morning, and absolutely must be free to crawl and totter about the ground without further delay. She tried talking to him, singing, narrating for him every step she took and pointing out interesting objects in the timber, but none of it worked, and before long he was wailing and struggling so that she could barely keep her balance.

“Will! What is it? I know you can’t be hungry, because you just ate fifteen minutes ago. Are you really in such a hurry to go somewhere? What’s going on?”

Silent for a moment at the vehemence of her questions, the child arched his back and strained to be free of the hood-carrier, resuming his vocal protests when it became clear that his mother had no immediate plans to set him down in the snow as he wished.

Meanwhile Einar heard the ruckus and hurried her direction with two aspen poles on one shoulder and another tucked beneath his arm. “What’s the matter with him? Got his clothes wet, or something?”

“No, that’s not it. He’s your son, Einar, and probably wouldn’t mind being cold and wet nearly as much as he minds being confined. He wants down, that’s what he wants! Wants to explore, and for some reason it’s become an emergency all of a sudden.”

“Well, why not let him out and explore?”

“Because I’m trying to help you finish brining in these wall timbers…”

“Didn’t say you needed to go explore. Just let him do it. You can keep working on timbers.”

“He’s eight months old! I’m not going to leave him all by himself while we get timbers!”

“Oh.”

“You know, it’s too bad Muninn wasn’t able to come with us. He’s probably be a proficient baby-sitter by now, would keep an eye on Will and alert us if he started getting into any trouble.”

Einar was quiet for a minute. “Yeah, kind of miss that bird. Wonder what he’s up to, anyway? Maybe watching Bud and Susan’s place for them, serving as living, breathing backup to Bud’s driveway alarm…”

“Probably. I imagine he’s happy, but do wish he was still here with us. He and Will seemed to get along pretty well, and I know the two of you had a special understanding.”

“Yep. Always did tend to have more of an understanding with the less-human sorts of critters in this world…”

“Hey now, what does that make me? Want me to get that rabbit stick, or what?”

Laughing, Einar loosened the wide buckskin strap that secured Will in his hood-pouch, lifted the child out and balanced him on his hip. “I wasn’t talking about you, and you know it! Now, how about Will and I go explore for a while, get it out of his system, and then we can finish that wall?”

[2medicine woman]

I am back on page 2, I think.. but, I will catch up. Nice to see Einar and his family again.

Thanks for sharing yet another road for this family to travel.

2medicine woman

[FOTH]

2medicine woman, glad you're catching up. Thanks for reading.


Folks, once again I must apologize for not having a chapter ready. Going to have to have a little more discipline, here, and get back to the regular posting schedule.

Thanks very much for your patience...

[2medicine woman]

post #92 - Incredibly intense.

"and the young man was smiling, urging him on, light in his eyes and a strange, transfiguring joy easing away the hard lines of suffering that had been etched in his face, raising a hand in farewell before sinking out of sight, resting, at peace… "

I hope Einar can finally recognize what he just saw in his dream state.

Very moving post. Very.

Thank you for sharing this creation with us.

[2medicine woman]

So, Einar's leg is healed already? Did they ever decide what he had done to it on the jump?

Thanks for more story. Einar keeps me thinking I have to analyze him. He is a great subject for a thesis.

In the middle of another storm here. -54F windchill earlier today. Oh the life of prairie living.

[FOTH]

Jan 22, 2014 20:31:36 GMT -6 2medicine woman said:

I hope Einar can finally recognize what he just saw in his dream state.

Very moving post. Very.

Thank you for sharing this creation with us.

He just doesn't know what is real, sometimes. All he knows for sure is that he did in fact leave that young man behind to die in a bamboo cage--and that he cannot forgive himself for that, no matter the extenuating circumstances

Jan 23, 2014 1:50:13 GMT -6 2medicine woman said:

So, Einar's leg is healed already? Did they ever decide what he had done to it on the jump?

Thanks for more story. Einar keeps me thinking I have to analyze him. He is a great subject for a thesis.

In the middle of another storm here. -54F windchill earlier today. Oh the life of prairie living.

Sounds windy! We don't often get that kind of wind out here, except up on the peaks.

No, Einar's leg is really not healed. He's just pretty quick adapting and learning to live with things. They don't know exactly what happened to it, other than the fact that he twisted it pretty good in landing, and now can't bear his full weight on it.

Thank you all for reading!