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Post by FOTH on Jan 23, 2014 16:01:32 GMT -6
Einar and Will did not get far in their exploring, Einar brought up short under a cluster of closely-growing firs when a faint and indefinable sense of unease that had been growing in him since leaving the shelter finally revealed its source. The plane was a small single engine, moving slowly and so low down between the canyon walls that it had approached much more nearly than otherwise would have been possible before being heard. Though reason told him that the plane’s presence was most likely unrelated to their own, long habit and the instincts of a hunted man sent him to the ground at the base of one of the stoutest of the little trees, Will sheltered beneath him.
Coming straight at them now, and as Einar lay face down in the icy fir needles with Will sheltered beneath his body, he prayed that Liz’s fire would have died down sufficiently by then as to not be putting out any smoke, not too much heat, should the plane be part of some search and equipped with infrared… Twisting, turning himself on the ground he craned his neck in an attempt to get a look back at the area of the shelter, scanning for smoke but seeing nothing. Good, but not terribly reassuring, as the density of the timber around him was almost certain to prevent his catching a glimpse, even should a pillar of smoke stand black and betraying above the place.
Will was squirming, wanting to be free, but Einar kept hold of him, met his eyes and was somewhat surprised when the little one responded to something in his gaze by falling still, eyes suddenly big, silent, afraid, so that for a fleeting moment Einar hated that he had to grow up this way, always running, always with something to fear. The thought passed very quickly, swallowed up by the reality of the plane’s presence and the fact that it was even then circling back, passing no more than three hundred feet above his head before dropping down once more between the canyon walls.
Plane gone for the moment Einar lost no time getting to his feet, Will pressed to his chest as he scrambled out from beneath the firs that had sheltered them, scanning the great, silent arc of the sky for any hint of that plane’s return, but hearing nothing. Saw no smoke, either when after several minutes he’d worked his way up to the little rise overlooking the shelter, and found the lack of visible sign encouraging, if not entirely reassuring. Were plenty of other signs for the to see, had they been looking, unusual track patterns left in the snow, the residual heat which would undoubtedly be emanating from the area of the shelter, even if the fire itself had been out, and he just hoped the people in that plane hadn’t seen, because they had not been looking. Had to hope.
The thought of running, of really covering ground the way they would have to do if they had been discovered, was rather daunting to Einar just then, all that downed, snow-covered timber surrounding them and his leg still far from normal after the way he’d twisted it landing that jump. Thing would more or less support his weight when he really gritted his teeth and ignored the pain, as he had been doing during the construction of the shelter, but its capacity for speed remained somewhat limited, to put it lightly. Frustrated with the fact, he shifted all his weight to the injured limb by way of test, stumbling and nearly losing his hold on Will when the leg folded beneath him. Tried again, with the same result.
Yeah. Looks like I’m not doing a lot of running anytime soon. Nothing wrong with my ability to lead folks into an ambush and shoot straight and true once they fall for it, though. So looks like that’ll be my part of this, if they end up coming. Create one heck of a distraction while Liz and you, little one, disappear into the timber…
Through the timber, then, Einar traveled, taking longer than he strictly would have done in returning to the shelter, in the interest of leaving fewer tracks and making certain he was never far from terrain and vegetation which would offer cover should the plane return, and when finally he reached the shelter, it was to find it empty, Liz nowhere in sight. Softly he called for her, hoping she was hiding nearby, dismissing the thought—very real in the moment—that perhaps he was misunderstanding the entire thing, missing the fact that men were already on the ground and had taken Liz, that the child’s only chance was for him to turn and seek safety in the timber, to flee…
Liz coming, he heard her—or someone with a very similar gait to hers—moving cautiously over the snow, crouched low with Will until he could get confirmation, get a good look. There she was, stepping out of the timber—boots in some of their old tracks, and he could not help but admire her instincts her efforts to avoid leaving new sign—and heading right for him. He went to her.
“Fire out?”
“Yes, it’s been out. I let it go a while ago, so there shouldn’t have been any smoke. You don’t think they were…?”
“Looking for us? Don’t see how, really. We’re so far from our last known location. But if somebody let something slip, or if those towers really did have something to do with us, and they saw something interesting as we made our way up the canyon…”
“It’s probably just some hunters, you know. Or the Division of Wildlife. Scouting for moose. We know there are moose down there, and they probably know, too. Maybe they’re trying to keep track of them, ahead of calving season, something like that.”
“Well, it is about that time of year, isn’t it? Just a month or so from now.”
The conversation ended there, plane suddenly making a reappearance over the trees, its approach masked until the last minute by the canyon walls and timber so that it was almost upon the before they had any inkling of its presence. Together they dived beneath the nearest tree, Einar hugging its trunk as he reflexively sheltered Will with his body, Liz pressed close beside him. The plane did not circle, banking instead against the high ridge above them and angling off away from the canyon and disappearing into the distance, this time gone, Einar was pretty sure, for good. Or at least for the time. He rose, handing Will to his mother and only then realizing that he was shaking, one hand on his knife and eyes scanning the surrounding timber in a repeating loop, far horizon and then closer woods, searching out anywhere an enemy could be hiding and half surprised when he spotted none. Liz was watching him, seeming more concerned about his reaction to the plane than to the aircraft, itself.
“Think it’s gone?”
He looked startled at the question, almost as if he’d forgotten she was there with him. “Sure. For now. Left pretty high, heading over the ridge. Don’t think it’s coming back anytime real soon.”
“So we can stay here?”
Einar sighed, shook his head. “Don’t have a real solid reason to leave. Better just lay low for a while, keep an eye on things and hope they don’t make a regular habit of this. Meantime, better hold off on having any more fires, just in case they should end up coming back over in the night when there’s even more contrast, temperature-wise.”
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Post by 2medicine woman on Jan 23, 2014 18:14:04 GMT -6
Darn it.. another plane coming up on them. I think Will is learning the same as the little new animals do. He is a very alert little guy, that's for sure.
Thanks for the update Chris. Really enjoying this story!
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Post by icefire on Jan 23, 2014 20:16:04 GMT -6
If that plane DOES have anything to do with Einar and Liz, let's hope it was Roger dropping Muninn off in the vicinity.
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Post by 2medicine woman on Jan 25, 2014 15:57:41 GMT -6
Where have you gone Mr. Author? Hoping and praying you are ok.
tok'sa ake my friend.
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Post by FOTH on Jan 27, 2014 16:45:50 GMT -6
Darn it.. another plane coming up on them. I think Will is learning the same as the little new animals do. He is a very alert little guy, that's for sure. Thanks for the update Chris. Really enjoying this story! Yes, he is growing up as something of a wild critter out there, and I'm sure will learn much as they learn--especially when it comes to recognizing and responding to danger. If that plane DOES have anything to do with Einar and Liz, let's hope it was Roger dropping Muninn off in the vicinity. Now that would be one interesting jump...uh...flight, for the raven! Where have you gone Mr. Author? Hoping and praying you are ok. tok'sa ake my friend. Thanks. I'm just fine. Sometimes I go away for a few days, but I always come back.  Thank you all for reading. Please let me know if this forum update (not my choice, done by the company which provides the forum) causes problems for any of you, and I will work to remedy them. |
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Post by FOTH on Jan 27, 2014 16:46:21 GMT -6
The remaining daylight hours passed in a blur of activity for Einar and Liz, Will crawling excitedly about the shelter as they worked to stuff spruce needles between upright wall timbers, chinking them against the wind and adding some insulation to the place. Einar would stop frequently as they did this work, head tilted to one side and eyes raised skyward as if to help himself hear more effectively any distant hum of a plane engine, and then he would crouch, palms against the frozen soil that lay beneath their flooring of fir branches, feeling. No distant rumble, no vibration in the ground, and every time upon rising he breathed a tempered sigh of relief, prayed that the situation might continue thus.
Walls chinked and insulated as well as could be done with spruce needles alone—could have done a more thorough job with several large buckets full of mud, but the season was all wrong for such endeavors—Einar set about trying to hang the parachute from the inside of the structure by way of a further wind barrier. It would, he explained to Liz, trap a layer of still air between its upper surface and the ceiling of the place, would do the same for the walls, and this would go a long way towards insulating the shelter and making their fires, when they could have fire again, far more efficient.
There was to be no fire that day, though, Einar far too concerned about the return of the aircraft of the appearance of others to want to risk smoke or heat, and though Liz and Will were doing just fine in the absence of flame, Einar began struggling a bit as the sun went down and all the meager warmth of the day dissipated into the high, clear sky.
Returning from yet another sojourn outside to listen for aircraft, Einar sat with arms crossed and knees pressed together, cold and trembling but trying not to let Liz know about it, weary but resigned, mind on the possible return of that plane and what it would mean, rather than on his current situation. Liz, though also concerned about the plane, was more urgently worried about Einar, and how she was to get him into that sleeping bag. Even if she couldn’t see him in the inky darkness that had eased its way into the shelter with the coming of dusk, she could certainly hear him, his lack of words and the whistling and puffing of his breaths in the cold, and she did not like it.
“Don’t you want to join me in here? Will’s all cozy and taking a nap in the other bag so there’s plenty of room…”
He smiled. “Later. Don’t want to…fall asleep now and if I get all warm and…” he shrugged, words not coming very easily, hoping she would get the idea.
“Doesn’t it hurt though, to just sit there shaking like that with everything rattling together? I mean, with your bones so near the surface, and all. You’re going to end up all bruised and sore, I would think.”
“Guess that could be one way to describe it.”
“How do you describe it?”
“It’s…interesting.”
“Interesting. Well. I just wish there was some way for you to be warmer.”
“Oh, you know I’ve never minded being cold. Sometimes…prefer it, really.”
“Yes, I know that’s true. But would like you to be able to stay a little warmer than this, just because when you’re like this, your body uses so much energy trying to warm itself up, and that’s all energy it can’t put towards other things. Like fueling your brain and muscles so you stay alive. And starting to add a little weight, here and there.”
Einar supposed she had a point, of sorts, but knew also that the temperature inside the shelter was to be the least of their problems, as time went on. While he had hoped to locate a spring or seep once the snow melted—should they find themselves able to stay so long—the fact remained that they presently had no water source up there in the tiny basin save the snow itself, which of course required heat in some form if they wanted it in liquid form. Several candles that had come with the supplies in the drop bag seemed to provide the only real option short of taking bottles of snow to bed with the and hoping they might see some melting by morning—didn’t sound like such a bad idea to Einar, but he figured Liz would object—and as if hearing his thoughts, Liz began searching for them.
“We need to be working on melting snow, don’t we?”
“Yep. One way or another. Gonna be without fire or a couple days at least, until we can be pretty sure the plane’s not coming back…or bringing friends…and probably not the best plan to go without water for that long.”
“No! We’ve used a candle before. And bearfat lamps…remember that?”
“Sure, I remember that. Good times, those were. Except for the doggone air search that was hounding us all the time, anyway. That wasn’t so good. Real glad to be out from under that. Hope we can keep it that way.”
“There’s no reason they should suspect we’re anywhere near this area, really. None that I can think of. That plane was probably just some sightseers or hunters looking at the canyon, or the wildlife folks trying to find and inventory a moose or two.”
“Hope they don’t find and inventory our moose! That’d mean trouble, for sure…”
“No way they can spot it from the air, and it sure wasn’t wearing a radio collar or anything, so I don’t think we need to worry!”
“Hope not. Really want to go back for that meat someday. If we get to stay in the area. Would feed us for an awful long time, and if we leave it as things start warming up, we’re gonna lose it all to the flies, real fast.”
“That would be a terrible waste.”
“Yep. We can talk about going back, maybe come up with a plan that makes sense, but we’ve got to wait out these planes first, make sure they’re not gonna make a regular habit of buzzing the canyon.”
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Post by ladylola on Jan 27, 2014 19:46:02 GMT -6
Durn plane. Thanks for writing this tale. Just letting you know we APPRECIATE all your work.
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Post by FOTH on Jan 30, 2014 16:44:50 GMT -6
Durn plane. Thanks for writing this tale. Just letting you know we APPRECIATE all your work. Thank you, ladylola. I really appreciate hearing that. And thank you all for reading. ______________________ Darkness heavy over the little basin but no one ready yet for sleep, Liz worked to coax snow into its liquid form over the flame of a single candle, the upper limit, Einar supposed, of what was safe as far as light and heat inside the shelter, with the possibility of that plane’s return. Slow and painstaking was the process, Liz frequently stirring the icy slurry with a stick in the hopes of getting a bit more liquid on the bottom of the pot, knowing this would speed the melting process. As it was, appeared they might each enjoy the benefit of a single small swallow of water before bed, hardly enough to go with the supper of jerky and dried fruit she had planned for them, let alone to help Einar, who always appeared to her to be a bit dehydrated, to stave off the creeping encroachment of hypothermia in the night. It was Einar who solved the problem for them, leaving the shelter and searching about in the night until he’d found, by feel more than by sight, a rocky area just below the ridge behind which their tiny basin was tucked. Here, where wind and steepness had kept sections of granite exposed and free of snow, he found places where on wamner days water had seeped down the rock and frozen, leaving behind weird, twisted forms of solid ice. Using his knife to break and free several of these small ice masses, Einar wrapped them in a cloth he had brought for the purpose, slung it over his back and returned to the shelter. Approaching, he was glad to see that almost no light leaked out from between the wall chinking, only a faint glow emanating from beneath the improvised door they had rigged of leftover aspen lengths, lashed together. Nothing, he was reasonably confident, that would give away their position from the air. Brushing the snow from his clothes and ducking inside, Einar slid the door back in place, tucking the parachute down under it in order to better seal out drafts. Crouching over the candle, he opened the cloth and showed Liz the ice chunks, taking a minute to steady his breathing and do his best to stop shaking before attempting speech. “Brought us some ice. Won’t melt quite as fast as the snow, but it’ll give a lot more water. Most water for the same amount of fuel, I mean. Was gonna take forever to get much, melting snow over that candle.” “I know. Just didn’t realize there was any ice around. This will help a lot!” “You can have the first batch here, as soon as it’s done. You got to have plenty to drink, or Will might end up short on food. Don’t want to let yourself get behind.” “You either.” “Hey, I’m not producing food for a little guy…” “You’re procuring food for all of us, though! Like that rabbit yesterday. And that moose meat you’re going to go retrieve for us, as soon as the planes stop coming… So we’re going to split this water equally, ok? I’ll make it into spruce needle tea, and we’ll split it. It’ll be good to have a little something warm before bed.” “Well, as long as you get enough that way.” “I’ll get plenty. Maybe we can melt snow on some black plastic tomorrow too, if it’s sunny. Just to help keep our supply up.” “Good idea. Bud wrapped some of the stuff in the drop bag in heavy black plastic bags, and it doesn’t even take a very warm day to melt snow on one of those, so long as you sprinkle it on there pretty thin, and find a place where there’s full sunshine. Might get a pint or so that way during the sunny part of the day, if we really keep after it.” “Well, that’s a start. Too bad there aren’t any creeks around here that we can use for water.” “I’ll walk down to the canyon floor, if you’d like!” “I don’t like! Don’t like it at all. That would be an awful lot of energy expended, just to get water…” “Was mostly joking about that one, anyway. Don’t want to be leaving tracks down into the canyon right now, not knowing what that plane was doing. Better give it some time, and keep melting snow for our water for a little while.” “Show me where the ice is tomorrow, and we can take turns getting it. Was there much, or did you already get most of it?” “Not sure. It was too dark to tell just now, and I wasn’t paying it a lot of attention when I saw it earlier. Just passed it while hauling trees, and kind of took note of it. Have to go take a look when there’s more light.” “Yes, it’s about time to turn in for the night, don’t you think? Before it gets any colder in here…” “Oh, I like it cold in here!” She heard him move in the semi-darkness of the flickering candle, but did not discern his intentions quickly enough to dodge the pair of icy hands with which he soon found her. “Hey!” she half squealed, rolling away and pouring the accumulated wax from the candle to brighten its flame. “Hands off until you’ve warmed up some. I don’t like the cold nearly so well as you do, you know!” “Well maybe you could learn to appreciate it more if you’d just…” “Oh, no! No you don’t! Do I have to get the rabbit stick, or what?” “Sure, if you must.” They were both laughing by that point, Liz trying to hush Einar, and herself, half afraid that they would wake Will, but the little one slept soundly as they quickly made a few bedtime preparations, blew out the candle and slipped into the sleeping bag. Some time later Liz could feel Einar’s restlessness, drew the bag more closely around his shoulders and tucked her own face inside for warmth. “Are you thinking about that plane?” “Yeah. Thinking and listening.” “Do you think you’ll be able to get any sleep?” “Nah, probably not. But it’s pleasant, listening to the sound of the wind in the spruces. Neat how most of it goes right over us here, isn’t it? Because of that little ridge in front of the shelter.” “Yeah, and the rest is being pretty effectively blocked out by all those spruce needles we stuffed in the cracks between logs. And by the parachute. Pretty cozy place you’ve built here.” But Einar did not answer; Liz could tell from his breathing that he was asleep. |
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Post by 2medicine woman on Jan 30, 2014 23:44:19 GMT -6
I hope Einar is starting to feel rested some. Hard to say. His measure of rest and my measure of rest are two different measures. Sounds like they made a fairly good shelter for now though.
Thanks for the new post. I finally caught up and now it is hard to wait for more story.
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Post by FOTH on Feb 3, 2014 17:04:36 GMT -6
I hope Einar is starting to feel rested some. Hard to say. His measure of rest and my measure of rest are two different measures. Sounds like they made a fairly good shelter for now though. Thanks for the new post. I finally caught up and now it is hard to wait for more story. Glad you're all caught up, but sorry that makes the waiting more difficult. Yes, Einar does have his own measure of what "rest" means, and he knows it's not good for him to get too much of it, even at that. Got to keep the body busy, as well as the mind. Thanks for reading! __________________________________ Morning, and it was not the sound of a plane that awakened Einar, but the much more nearby scuffling and scurrying of some small creature on the timbers that made up the outside of the shelter. Likely not large enough—he realized after a tense moment during which his hand closed around the pistol and he was about to bolt from the bed in challenge—to pose much threat to his still-sleeping family, and he relaxed, shivering in the morning chill as he slipped back down into the warmth of the sleeping bag. The intruder, he guessed by is sound, was something on the order of an ermine or possibly even a marten, though he doubted it would prove to be so large. Listening, drifting, Einar almost went back to sleep picturing the sleek white coat and bright, beady eyes of the ermine he believed he was hearing, but this near-repose was brought to a sudden end when the creature made its way inside and dashed most unceremoniously across his face. Though out of the sleeping bag in a fraction of second and scrambling about the floor in search of the furry invader, Einar could only be thankful that the little beast had waited until he was awake to come calling. Would not have been a good way to be awakened, at least not in such a confined space as the shelter. Liz was very much awake, herself, by that time, struggling to find the candle and light it so some sense could be made of the commotion in the place. When finally she succeeded, it was to the sight of Einar crouched against the shelter wall with wild eyes and a very startled-looking ermine clasped firmly in one hand. Liz could not help but burst out laughing. “You’ve certainly got an interesting way of coming up with breakfast! Where’d you find that little guy?” “He ran across my face, that’s where! Heard him scratching around on the roof, and then there he was, leaving tracks on my forehead.” She moved the candle closer, inspecting the ermine’s sparkly white coat, which had not yet begun to drop in anticipation of the summer months. “How’d you see to get him in the dark? Einar shrugged, loosed his grip slightly so as not to risk suffocating the little weasel. “Didn’t need to see. Just…heard, and grabbed.” “Like a bat. No need to see. Your father is a bat, Will! Did you know that?” “Huh. Not the first time I’ve been called ‘batty,’ but never knew it was meant as a compliment…” “Compliment? Ha! Well, what are you going to do with it?” “With what?” “With the weasel, of course! Is he going to be our breakfast?” “Oh.” He inspected the ermine, its eyes still round and black and scared, but not so panicked as they had been at first. “Well, protein in protein, but he’s awfully small, isn’t he? And would eat mice that might get into our other food, if we end up staying here for a while…” “Maybe a good idea to let him go and be mouse control, then. Not much fur on him, anyway. I guess it takes quite a few of those little critters to make any kind of warm clothing, doesn’t it?” “Quite a few, unless you’re just looking for ruffs on mittens or hats. There will be chances to get ahold of other ermines.” Weasel’s life thus spared, Einar held onto the wriggling creature for another minute so Will, who had been very curious from the start, could have a close look. Something about the way the creature’s pure white fur glinted in the candlelight really captured Will’s attention, the contrast between light fur and jet-black eyes enthralling him perhaps even more, and as Liz watched he leaned forward in a very slow, measured attempt to touch his nose to the ermine’s own tiny pink one. Liz stopped him before he could quite make it, concerned lest the creature feel threatened and decide to take a bite out of her son, but the ermine appeared nearly as curious as Will, himself, and more relaxed than it had been at any time since its capture. “Think they kind of take to one another,” Einar observed. “Maybe the critter will keep coming around from time to time, and they can get to know each other better.” “It looks like Will would really like that. Maybe he’s going to be like you. More quick to get along with and understand animals than humans… “Huh. You saying I’m only fit company for the wolverines and grizzlies? Tried to tell you that before, when it wasn’t too late to do something about it, but would you listen? No, you would not. And now here you are, stuck out here with a wild man and a wild child and the ermines and wolverines and bears, living in an aspen hut on the side of a mountain.” “Civilization is highly over-rated. And much too crowded. I like it here.” “It is rather nice, isn’t it? Aside from that doggone plane, and any company it may be planning to bring today.” “We can hope for quiet.” “I do hope for quiet.” Speaking of quiet, Will was far from it, howling his protest loudly enough to be heard on the far side of the ridge as Einar closed his hands around the ermine and moved to release it out the door. Einar stopped, gritting his teeth against the sound. “Hey, little guy. Any chance you could say that a different way? One that uses fewer decibels, for instance? What’s the trouble? You weren’t done studying this critter? I understand, but look. He’s squirming. Won’t hold still. Seems he’s getting pretty tired of being held onto, so how about we let him have some time outside, and finish looking him over next time he comes back? He will come back, I’m almost certain. But only if we kind of let it be on his own terms. Wild critters are like that, you know. Need to do things on their own terms, just like us humans do. Ok. That’s right. Gonna let him go now, let him slip out the door. You watching?” Will was watching, howling stilled as he stared intently at his father’s mouth, studying the words as intently as he had moments prior been studying the ermine. How much he understood there was no way for his parents to be certain—Einar believed he understood a good deal more than most people might have given him credit for, at his age, and always treated him that way—but in any event he did seem willing to let the creature go. |
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Post by 2medicine woman on Feb 3, 2014 18:32:39 GMT -6
Leave it to Einar to reach out and grab breakfast. Will is one very perceptive little guy. Children do absorb more than we adults are aware of. Movements, attitudes, emotions.. it certainly adds to the whole Einar family scenario. Of course Will will be like his Daddy. He has not had any interaction in "civilization" and I use the term losely.
Thanks for the new addition. I love this story. Your talent is amazing.
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Post by icefire on Feb 3, 2014 23:11:02 GMT -6
Young children understand MUCH more that most people realize, simply because the adults do not really pay attention, and the young child can not yet articulate their understanding. They ARE however, always learning, processing the information, and understanding it.
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