The River of Bones--An Archie Hunter Adventure

by E C Hunter

  “Eat” answered Milly looking across at the perfectly cooked hare. Archie grinned and reached for the spit. He tore off a back leg, handed it to Milly and tore the other off for himself. They munched companionably for a while, grease running down their chins. “This is really good” Milly said though a mouthful of the rich meat. Archie nodded, not willing to lose a morsel by opening his mouth. Twenty minutes later all that was left was clean bones and a satisfied feeling.

  “OK, we’ve done that, now what do we do?” Archie tried again.

  “We’ve got to stay with our original vision” Milly said, “we’ve no choice but to rescue Mister Stinky and we need to do it quickly. We’ve spent too long going backwards and forwards, now my dad has him, he’ll want to start making money from him as soon as he can.”

  “OK, I guess we should. I know I should be looking for my dad but you’ve proved, he’s fine with the Sasquatches. I’ll try not to worry. Did you know - there was a guy called Albert Ostman who reckons he was kidnapped by Sasquatches back in the 1920’s. They kept him for about a week and said they treated him well. Said he escaped by giving the male his tobacco or snuff, anyway, something that made him ill I think. Seems to me that if the Sasquatches had wanted to make life difficult for people they’d have done it before now. They just want to stay out of the way and do their own thing.”

  “They treated me like I was one of their own” said Milly “I felt cherished and respected, I think the human race has a lot to learn from them. They’re precious Archie, I mean, really important.” Milly was talking animatedly, her eyes sparkling. “Come on, we’ve got a proto-human to rescue.”

  *

  They made an early camp and were able to catch another snowshoe hare which Archie was careful to dress away from Milly’s sight. Cooking and camp chores done the pair fell into easy conversation while they munched on the hare, or rabbit as Milly insisted they call it.

  “It’s what everyone here calls them, you might as well go along with it. Those grouse too, we call them partridge. Anyway, I’d sooner have a Honey Cruller from Timmies.” Archie assumed a Honey Cruller was some kind of sweet thing but had no clue about Timmies.

  “What’s Timmies?”

  “You don’t have Timmies in Scotland? No way!” Milly was aghast. “I thought it was like MacDonalds, you know, everywhere.”

  “Nope.”

  “Tim Hortons” Milly explained “is everywhere in Canada, I mean , absolutely everywhere. You can get every kind of doughnut on the planet, blueberry fritter, Canadian maple, vanilla dip.” Milly went on to list almost every type of doughnut, fritter and muffin on Tim Hortons menu. Archie had been vaguely aware that doughnuts might come in more flavours than industrial, none-specific fruit jam but had never actually tried one. The thought of this panoply of doughnuts caused saliva to spurt painfully from under his tongue. His stomach rumbled. Archie had always been lean but was now starting to look somewhat undernourished.

  “So is there a Tim Horton in Ingonish?” Archie enquired casually.

  “Nooo, we have to go to Cheticamp or Baddeck for our nearest, there’s not much in Ingonish really, nice beach I suppose and we can ski Cape Smokey in the winter.”

  “Pah, I was heading to Cheticamp originally. Typical. I really need some calories.” Archie glanced round hopefully. Something made him stop. As they had moved towards Ingonish the landscape had altered subtly. There was now much more water, small pounds, lakes and flowages. What had caught Archie’s attention were cattails. Something in the back of his mind told him there was food to be had. “Look cattails, he shouted excitedly.”

  “And…?” Milly clearly did not share his enthusiasm.

  “I’ve read about them, they’re like a back-woods super market. You can eat the roots and the flower spikes, the dried heads you can use as tinder, there’s even a sticky stuff you can use as an antiseptic.” He glanced at his bandaged arm. “Come on.” He shot off for the nearest pond. By the time Milly caught up with him he had pulled up half a dozen of the tall water grasses, and was busy breaking off the tips of the root corms. He popped one into his mouth. The taste and sensation of a fresh, sweet vegetable was irresistible after so many days without fresh food. He popped another and another. Milly appeared at his side.

  “You’re doing it again.”

  “What?”

  “Water, un-purified, asking for gastric incidents are we?”

  “Hell, I didn’t think.”

  “Uh huh. Tell me something new. Let’s just collect some and take it back and cook it eh? Don’t think we’ve got any wet wipes left.”

  “Oh ha ha. Look, just pull a few more and we’ll take them back to the fire.” With an armful of the long rushes each they went back to the fire. Archie showed Milly how to remove the immature flower spike. “It’s like opening a corn cob, see.” He told her with confidence, although he had only ever read about it. They baked the flower spikes on the edge of the fire and boiled the root tips in the mess tin. Whether it was just their lack of food or that the cattail was a very tasty plant but they wolfed the results of their foraging until, for the first time in some days, felt satisfied and replete.

  They slept and when they woke the world was a very different place.

  Chapter 37

  It was raining and it was raining hard. Water dripped off the branches into the dead fire, the ashes had formed an unattractive slurry and were starting to run out of the fire pit. Archie was wrapped in his tarp and was dry apart from the top of his head. Milly however was lying shivering in her bargain basement sleeping bag. It had been a hasty purchase from Canadian Tire on the way to a sleep over with a girlfriend. It was rectangular, pink and had an improbably jolly pony printed on the front.

  “It was the only thing I could find, OK?” Milly said crossly when she saw Archie eyeing her sleeping arrangements with an amused expression.

  “It’s very, er, pink,” said Archie.

  “Yes, I know, thank you for pointing that out.”

  “Shall I rig my tarp up so that we can both get under it?”

  That would seem like the decent thing to do old bean, if you would be so kind.” Milly put on an English accent.

  With a piece of cord and a few quick knots Archie had the tarp suspended between two maples, angled down at the back, towards the wind and open at the front, facing the fire, well, where the fire had been.

  “Milly wriggled out of her sodden bag and scuttled across the camp, hurling herself under the tarp. She cuddled up to Archie.

  “Awww, you’re soaking, get away.” She ignored him and snuggled in tighter. Archie sighed, pulled his spare fleece from his pack and handed it to her. She tugged off her sweat shirt and shrugged the dry garment on. Archie turned and rooted in his rucksack to cover his embarrassment.

  “Don’t suppose you’ve got any spare trousers have you?” Milly asked hopefully.

  “’Fraid not, sorry.” Even if he had, the thought of Milly removing her trousers would have made him say he hadn’t. It was all a bit much for Archie whose experience of partially clothed girls was limited to quick changes behind the scenes at school drama productions.

  Milly seemed oblivious to his discomfort.

  “Never lasts long at this time of year.” Milly assured him “and at least it’s not too cold. Let’s make a plan.”

  “OK, how far away are we from the storage place?”

  “About 3 hours walk I’d say. Might be a bit more. Any of the cattail left?”

  “No, all gone, I’m starving too. We’re just going to have to do it on an empty stomach.” Archie sounded resigned. “Are we going to wait until the rain stops or just go for it” he asked.

  “I don’t fancy it much, much prefer to stay here snuggled up together.” Archie felt himself redden at Milly’s words and looked away.

  “You’re a bit shy aren’t you Archie Hunter?” Milly murmured. If Archie heard her, he ignored the comment.

  “OK, we’ll wait and see if lets up. But we need to be at
the place before nightfall, we need to watch it for a while, y’know, just to make sure he’s still there.” The pair sat morosely watching the rain fall, desperate to do something yet fearful of the consequences. When midday had come and gone and the rain had not eased Archie gave Milly a meaningful glance and started to pack away their sparse camp. Milly showed a level of enthusiasm usually reserved for visits to the dentist, she suddenly seemed listless and tired. It triggered a memory of something George had taught him.

  “Come on, you need to move, you’ll chill down and then things will get nasty.” Milly knew he was right and nodded. “This is going to seem silly but I want you to run around in a circle with your hands up clenching and unclenching your fists.” He knew that hypothermia could set in quickly, even in the middle of summer. They were undernourished, tired and stressed. Add cold and wet into the mixture and the will to survive starts to flag quickly. He needed to get Milly warmed up and thinking. She was standing, arms hanging limply. “Come on, like this.” Archie started a high-leg-lifting-prancing run, arms raised, fists clenching and unclenching. He completed a circuit of Milly. She looked up at him and gave a thin smile. He did another circuit, increasing the idiocy of his actions. This time Milly grinned.

  “Come on, follow me.” This time she joined in, slowly, stiffly at first, gradually warming up until they were both doing the idiotic dance and laughing uncontrollably. “OK, that’ll do, let’s get going before you chill down again.”

  “Lead on oh great one.” Milly was clearly feeling much better. ‘Just in time’ thought Archie with great relief. When they re-joined the track, signs of recent human activity became more apparent with almost every step. The odd plastic bottle began to appear, there was dog mess and cigarette butts. After an hours walking Archie was getting cross. He sighed. At home visitors rubbish was the thing that most annoyed him. Why would you come to visit a beautiful place and mess it up? Along the roadside around the gate to Strathnuin was a beautiful beech hedge. The sight of it always brought joy to Archie when he returned home from school but recently this joy had been marred by the peculiar habit of holiday makers of wrapping up dog muck in plastic bags and then tossing it into the hedge bottom. These hideous decorations would adorn the hedge until Archie and his wheel barrow went to move them. A vile job. If only they’d take it away with them. It would even be preferable just to leave the dog muck, it breaks down, after all. But not if it’s encapsulated in a plastic bag. Seeing even the small amount of rubbish now made him inordinately angry.

  With each step towards ‘civilisation’ he found himself growing angrier. Milly glanced across at him and saw the look in his eye.

  “What’s up?” She asked.

  “People, why can’t they just leave their mess at home, just leave things as they found them.”

  “It sounds to me like you’re projecting.”

  “What?”

  The anger you’re feeling, it’s no really towards the trash droppers, it’s at this situation.”

  “Maybe, but it still makes me cross.”

  “The human race doesn’t have a very good record of leaving things as they found them. But what can you do? How can you change it? My dad is the worst, there’s nothing he wouldn’t do to make a buck.” Archie wasn’t sure how he was supposed to respond to that. He didn’t try and before he could think of anything else to say Milly pointed to a small path leading from the main trail.

  “We need to go down here, it’ll bring us out on a bluff overlooking the depot. Come on, there’s a place we can camp on top of the bluff, I go up there when it all gets too much.” Archie turned into the path Milly had indicated. The vegetation was dense with brambles and dense shrubs growing tight to the path, the trees beyond were dense too, young spruce regeneration, the lower branches interlaced and spikey. Through the spruces was darkness, the woodland so thick it would be impossible to move in.

  The path was interminable, dark and damp, even though the rain had now stopped. Insects in their millions buzzed around their heads. Not as bad as midges at home thought Archie, but pretty grim none-the-less. Unlike the forest roads the path twisted and writhed through the trees, seemingly aimless and endless. It could only add to the sense of foreboding they were both feeling. Through the gloom Archie could see a patch of deeper darkness, seemingly in the path. He held up a hand to stop Milly.

  “What is it?” she whispered

  “Can’t make it out, let’s get a bit closer.” Slowly they went forward another twenty metres or so. Milly saw Archie’s shoulders sag with relief. “It’s just a moose, wow, they’re big. It’s a horse and a half with two kitchen chairs on its head.”

  “Shhhh, keep it down” hissed Milly.

  “It’s just a big deer, it’ll turn tail and run.”

  “Archie, it can’t turn around, the path is too narrow.” Milly’s voice was a narrow sound in the silence. “We need to back away, slowly and quietly; we need to do it now.” Archie wasn’t listening; he was too fascinated by the moose. “Archie Hunter, back up now.” Milly’s voice rose slightly. The moose looked up from the willow it was browsing. Immediately it’s ears flattened. It’s enormous head moved from side to side. The comical nose did not seem quite to amusing now. With no further warning the moose put its head down and came.

  Chapter 38

  He came and he came fast. This was a huge, fully mature bull, he’d met people before and he wasn’t going to waste time on a false charge. He was out to get the job done.

  “Oh crap.” Said Archie succinctly.

  “Run you idiot” cried Milly over her shoulder “NOW!” Archie glanced over his shoulder at Milly, whose back was rapidly retreating into the gloom and then back at the rapidly growing moose. He took another moment or two to glance around for a hole in the vegetation. There was simply no way in through the thorns and prickles. He ran. His pack joggled and upset his balance, slowing him down. Within moments he could hear the hoof beats of the bull and the sound of his gigantic antlers ripping through the vegetation on either side of the track. Archie reached for the buckle of the waist belt of his pack and pressed the release points. The belt fell away and he was able to shrug the shoulder straps off and let the pack fall.

  Instantly Archie felt he could run like Bolt and hared off along the path. Perhaps the moose would stop to savage the pack Archie thought. He glanced over his shoulder. Sure enough, the moose slowed and stopped. It hooked at the pack with a massive antler, decided it was of no interest and carried on. Unfortunately for the moose the pack had hooked itself firmly over the antler by one of the shoulder straps. The creature thrashed it’s head from side to side. This served not to dislodge the pack but to further tangle it in the multiple points of the antler. The pack weighed around 30 kilograms. Heavy even for this giant to have hanging from one side of its head. It gave a half-hearted attempt at a gallop, thrashed some more and then simply stood in confusion. Archie stopped, and looked back at the animal. Instantly his fear of being mashed by the moose turned to sorrow and pity. He hated to see any animal suffer, but what on earth could he do.

  “Archie, what’s happened”, he heard a voice calling him from away down the path.

  “You’d better come and see.” He called back. Milly was at his shoulder in less than a minute.

  “Oh, I see.”

  “I couldn’t run fast enough, I just let it fall off, I need to get it back, everything is in there”.

  “OK, you stroll up to Mr Moose there and ask him for it. I’m sure he’ll be happy to let you unhook it.”

  “Thanks for that. Wait a minute, look, above the moose.” Growing over the path at that point was a stout maple branch, coming from a tree further from the path.

  “How the hell are you going to get to it, there’s no way through”. Milly was dismissive. Archie looked around for some time, eventually he spied what he was looking for, a small rounded opening at ground level. A badger run. “You’ll never fit through there.”

  “Watch me.” Archie dropped t
o the ground, put his head into the hole in the brush and started to wriggle. Milly watched with astonishment as his shoulder, hips and finally feet disappeared into the thorns. A disembodied voice rose from the shrubbery “keep an eye on Mr Moose, make sure he stays where he is, after this I won’t be able to talk, I don’t want him to suss me.” Archie wriggled deeper, the brambles pierced and raked at every movement.

  “Yeah right, I’ll just keep half a tonne of irate moose standing on exactly the right spot so you can play Tarzan.” Milly muttered under her breath. “If you’d just backed up when I’d told you none of this would have happened, numpty.” There was no reply from the brush. The moose made a half-hearted attempt at dislodging the rucksack but held its position. Milly decided to retire a pace or two; she didn’t want to provoke it into another charge.

  Archie was beginning to find navigation his way to the maple was trickier than he had expected. Raising his head was impossible, he had to make do with keeping to a heading, almost impossible but the only way. After a few more agonising metres the brush began to thin, at last Archie could get up onto his knees and then stand. He could now see the maple in front of him, it was still an agonising wade through the brambles but easier with every step. By the time he reached the base of the tree he was shattered and bleeding. He took a few minutes to gather his strength for the climb. And then looked across to where the moose stood, barely visible through the trees, he realised then that perspective had fooled him and the branch was far too high above the moose. There was no way he could reach down that far.