by Ison, S. A.
“Wow, they sure grow their fish big here.” I said, impressed. The fish was almost three feet long. It was a big thing.
“Yeah, I cleaned it at the river, I figure we can put it over a spit and have roasted fish. There are plates over by the woodpile. I’ll set this fish over the low part of the fire, then I’m going to go get our forks and put the gig up there.”
I watched as he clambered back up and into the cave. He came back down with the forks sticking out of his back pocket. He handed me the forks and I handed him the comb. We sat quietly watching the flames and the sizzle and pop of the fish. It was redolent of fried fish and my mouth watered. I pulled rocks out from the fire and carefully placed them into the bowl of river water.
“I was thinking. Maybe little by little, we start drinking the water at the river. We need to start getting the local microbes into our bodies. Maybe only take a sip once a day. I took a sip. Tomorrow we’ll see if I get sick.” He said, pulling at his hair, his eyes crinkling in pain.
“Come over and let me comb that before you bald yourself. Do you want me to braid it like mine?”
He looked and nodded his head and sat with his back to me. I got up on my knees and started with the bottom of his hair and worked the tangles out from there. As his hair dried, it was thick and heavy. Mine wasn’t thin, but it wasn’t as thick as his. Leave it to a guy to have nice hair.
“Okay, if you don’t get sick, I’ll go and take a sip tomorrow.” I said.
“I’m hoping that with such a small amount, that my body will start to acclimate to the water. By us eating the fish, that helps. I’m pretty sure whatever we eat has the local microbes and whatever else we need to acclimate our bodies to this place.”
The early evening exhortation of frogs began. I had to smile, they seemed enthusiastic in their songs. Spring, it seemed affected even the lowliest creatures. The steam from the boiling water reached me. We sipped from the bottled water, knowing hydration was important with all the work and activity we’d been doing today. Later, we’d refill the bottles with the freshly cooled water.
Since we had bathed, there was no need to take a bird bath. The haunting call of a wolf in the distance reached us and the vibration of a shiver traveled through me. It is a weird and terrifying sensation, possessing the knowledge that you are at the rock bottom of the food chain. I wondered once more about how Baily Pascha had died.
“I was thinking about those people; whose names are on that boulder. I wonder what happened to Baily?”
“There’s no telling until we find them. Not sure if it was a man or woman, but maybe they ate something they shouldn’t have, or got bit by a big ass snake. Or, maybe fell and got hurt and couldn’t recover. I suspect they crossed that rock around the second or third day like us.”
“Yeah, it’s weird to think that maybe in a couple days we will find them. It has been seven years. Do you think they could be alive still?”
He shrugged, his hand going to the back of his head, patting the tight braid.
“If they found a safe place like we did, maybe. And because there were more of them, they may well have survived. Though not knowing their ages, we can only speculate.” He said.
He took out his knife to test the fish and left it alone for a while. He pulled a handful of leaves from his pocket, they were the broadleaf plantains. The sky was a deep cerulean blue that drew in deep purples like a lover. I chewed on one of the broadleaf plantains while I waited for the fish. He brought the fish down and laid it on the plate, though the tail was siting in the dirt. He used his fork to peel back the skin, and we ate the fish, which was wonderful.
It was a big fish, but we did manage to eat the whole thing between us. After dinner, Harper took the fish carcass down to the stream and dumped the remains into the river. He washed the plate and then walked back, his head swiveling around, his eyes seeking. It was twilight now and would soon be dark. We filled the bottles with the water and drank the rest from the wood bowl.
I excused myself and made my way about twenty feet from the fire. I found a likely bush and relieved myself. Getting used to outdoor bathroom habits was painful. I would have killed for a nice toilet. Going up into the cave, I knew I needed an empty bladder, there wasn’t going to be any nocturnal potty calls. I didn’t want to end up as bear poop. Going down like that would be dangerous. I walked back quickly to the fire after a detour to the water’s edge.
“I’m going to leave the fire to burn down, we can start a fire up in the cave at the mouth.” He said.
“Sounds good, it has been a long day but I think a good one. It’ll be nice to sleep and not worry about bears.”
“Yeah, last night was rough.”
We made our way into the cave. It was dark and so the light from the small fire Harper made was welcoming. We both sat at the edge of the cave opening and looked out into the valley. It was growing darker and increasingly difficult to see. Our legs dangled over the edge, mine swinging to and fro. Without warning, Harper belted out a song, Down in the Valley. He had a sweet tenor voice, and though he was off key here and there, it was wonderful. I wiped at the tear that slid down my face. I let out a low and long sigh.
After putting a few thick branches into the fire, we both made our way into the cave. We had found a low soft area in the main room of the cave, near the entrance of the cave. The ground wasn’t hard, the dirt was sand-like and was fairly comfortable, no rocks. The air inside was warmer now with the fire at the front. I took my backpack and fluffed it up. The food and shoes were now out of it, so it made a good pillow. As was his custom now, Harper laid down beside me. With our combined body heat, we were able to sleep warmly. I grew drowsy and for the first time in three days, I slept soundly.
When we crawled from our cave the next morning, we went to the fire below. The air was chilled and filled with early morning damp. The sky was pink and blue, fluffy clouds drifting across. The fire was out, but the ground was warm beneath. We looked around and saw no bear tracks. I was relieved, believe me.
“What’s on the agenda today?” I asked, stretching the kinks out.
“I say we go upstream and see what we can see. Look for more food sources. Also, more rocks. We can take your backpack and fill it with whatever we find. I guess we look for anything useful, whatever that might be.”
“Will we look for those people?” I asked, my hand digging into the warm dirt. It suffused my body with warmth.
“I’d like to say yes, but if it is more than five hours, I’d have to say no. Honestly, I don’t want to spend the night outside that cave. That was the first real night’s sleep that I’ve had since we came here.”
I had to laugh, “Yeah, me too. There’s something about being safe that lets your body relax enough to sleep deeply.”
I went to the bush and did my business; my eyes were floating. Then I took the bark bowl and filled it with water. Harper built up a fire and we nibbled on the last of the raisins and dried snake steak. We sipped the hot water and that went a long way to warming us up. Harper banked the fire and we headed out. I took my spear and Harper had his and the gig. My empty backpack hung from my back. We took our time, looking around and looked at many varieties of the plants. Getting to know our new home was important.
To our joy, we actually found more of the small wild strawberries. We sat for a delicious hour eating and gathering them. I was glad they were near our cave. I filled the sandwich bags. We had left the dried meat in the back of the cave on wooden plates. I was thrilled by the find, I’d not expected it.
The fruit was sweet and so delectable. The strawberry patch stretched out quite a bit. I was happy to see such an abundant amount. Putting this knowledge in the back of my mind for next March and April, it would be the place to go and gather. I was glad. After gorging, we went to the river and I took my sip for the day. I washed the sticky sweetness from my hands. Harper took his sip as well, and he was showing no ill effects so far. We had all four bottles of water with us. The bluffs disa
ppeared behind us and in front was a vast open lowland. In the distant we saw large deer, and what looked like, small horses, it was a small herd.
We kept our heads on a swivel, looking for any kind of predator, or threat. We saw a giant sloth within the tree line. “Do you think you might try to kill that? That is a lot of meat. Not to mention the hide.”
“Maybe, those claws would make good tools of some kind I’m sure.”
“Yeah, I think we are going to need pelts for the winter. I don’t think our jackets are going to cut it.” I said and shivered at the thought.
“We’ll have something by then. Even if I have to get a bunch of small game, we’ll have furs.” He said with confidence.
We headed into the forest, but just along the edge. We were looking at the plants scattered amongst the trees. Farther into the forest would be too dense and plants didn’t grow well with too little filtered sunlight. I didn’t recognize any of them. We dug around the bottom of each of the plants we found. I was beginning to think that we were wasting our time, twenty different species of plants later, we found a plant that had a tuberous root. We dug it up and Harley peeled it with his knife. He sliced off a thin piece and took a small bite. He chewed, moving the tiny bite around in his mouth and smacked his lips. He grinned and waggled his dark eye brows.
“It tastes like potatoes. Let’s dig up some, looks like there is a lot of this plant around here. We can name it potato plant.” He cut me off a bigger piece and another for himself.
“Oh, you’re right. Man, if we had some fat, I could fry these up. Now, I’m going to dream of fried potatoes.” I laughed.
He was right, it tasted almost exactly like a potato. It would be good if we could bake it. We gathered about a dozen of them. They weren’t huge, but long and narrow. I planned to plant a few near the cave. I wanted to cultivate food near us. Hunting for food in this place was dangerous. The tubers were heavy, two would make a good meal along with meat and green leaves.
We placed them in my backpack and walked on. The sun followed us, the sky brilliant, the clouds had burned off. I tilted my head up, there were several birds gliding in wide lazy circles. I didn’t think they were vultures, they weren’t that large. In the background, cicadas, yes, cicadas even here, buzzed sleepily. Their droning was comforting. We saw some kind of whitish ball in the woods. As we got closer, we realized it was a huge mushroom.
“I think that is a puffball mushroom, and I think you can eat it. You know, cut it into steaks and cook.” He said excitedly.
“Really? I’m not much of a mushroom eater.” I said, making a face. I don’t know why, because I’d have eaten worms if I were hungry enough. I watched as he squatted down, it was as big as a basketball. He took his knife out and cut beneath it. He lifted it and handed it to me. It wasn’t heavy, and it felt like a mushroom. He cut a small piece from the bottom of the mushroom and popped it in his mouth.
“Tastes good. If I don’t die, we can have it and the tubers for dinner if you like.” He laughed, I guess my face was a little doubtful. We looked around there were quite a few in the forest. We would have to find a way to dry this for future use.
We placed the mushroom in my bag, which was becoming full, though not really heavy. I also took note of several trees with a type of mushroom I did know. It was called hen of the woods. I pointed it out.
“Well, our diet is starting to expand. I’ll take some of this and we can dry it and maybe make a nice mushroom and snake steak stew.” I said.
“That actually sounds delicious.” Harper said rubbing his stomach in exaggeration, his head rocking back and forth. I sniggered and then heard my stomach rumble. We left the forest and went back out to the flatland. It was getting near mid-day. We decided to turn around and head back to the cave, only we figured we would walk by the river now. On the far bank was a family of large otters. Their long sleek bodies stretched along the bank. They watched us with curiosity and no fear. They began chittering between them, running back and forth along the bank on the far side. It seemed they were excited about us. They didn’t go back into the water until we were well past them. I’d seen their sharp teeth, I’d not want to tangle with one of those. They always looked so sweet on TV, but these creatures were nearly seven feet long.
“It would be nice if we could find a beaver’s den. They’re good meat, though I’ve never eaten them. Any beavers in or around Virginia are rare and with the pollution, I was always afraid that the animal might hold poisons in its meat.”
“Maybe tomorrow, we can go a little farther upstream. At least here we know the animals have no poisons, least ways from humans.” I suggested. He nodded and grinned.
As we walked home, I pulled water plants from the edge of the river and checked them. I found watercress, which has a peppery spicy zest to it. I put a few of those plants into my bag. I would look around our river near the cave, I’m sure they would be growing there. My eyes scanned the ground, checking out every green thing. I saw some young chive. And I gathered them. They smelled like green onions. Like I said, I don’t much care for mushrooms, but I figure if I put these plants on them, it would make it taste better.
A little more of the hard knot of fear was melting down a little by little. Checking fear of starvation, at least for the present, off the list of things to be afraid of. Fear is a powerful motivator, and here, fear ruled supreme. I was motivated like nobody’s business, I kid you not.
The humming drone of bees reached us and we saw them flying around some of the flowers near the edge of the river. “You think at some point we can look for a beehive? Maybe steal some honey and comb?” I’m not sure why I was asking him, but I figured we were joined at the hip. I’d never been really assertive in my life and I’d been trying to change that about myself. Old habits die hard.
“Sure, though I have no clue how to do that.” He said, his gray eyes following the small bodies.
“Maybe we can follow them.” I shrugged.
“We can try.” He laughed.
I spotted a large cluster of beautiful orange daylilies. I walked over and sniffed them. They are bigger than our modern-day lilies.
“You know you can eat the flowers and roots of those.” Harper said, squatting down to dig up the tuberous roots.
“How do you know?”
“My grandmother said so, she had a huge patch of them in the back of her garden. She would fry them up like potato chips. They were actually pretty good. I didn’t care for the flower part. She also used the new shoots that came up.”
“Well, dig some up, we can try it tonight for dinner with the giant mushroom ball like thingy.”
He looked up and laughed at me, his eyes crinkling at the sides. I grinned back. I was feeling pretty good, knowing we had food, and not just lean meat. We had calorie packed starches, which our bodies need. I also picked a large cluster of cattails. I wanted them for their starchy roots, but also for the fluff in the brown heads. I knew that Native Americans used the fluff for hygienic needs, for baby’s diapers and for feminine needs. Yeah ladies, you know what I’m talking about.
My period was due in a week, I know, too much information. But there was no drugstore near our location and there was no way I could use leaves. I had Harper carry some as well. Our arms were full and I wanted to laugh. It was as though we’d gone to the grocery store. Well, we had.
We made it back to the cave without incident and I snapped off the cattail heads and took most of our food up into the back of the cave. It had become our unofficial larder back in the back. I was hoping that we wouldn’t have to worry about mice. I held a small hemlock branch, it smoldered, but gave enough light to see this far back in the cave. I was sure after enough visits back here, I wouldn’t need a light.
I emptied my backpack of the tubers and laid everything out as well as the hen mushrooms. I was going to dry them out tomorrow. Today, I’d dry out the strawberries. There was sandy soil back in this area of the cave and I smoothed it over the tubers. I figured
that the sand would keep them from going bad. I sat back and smiled. It was a start. Little by little, we would gather what we could find. I kept the watercress, chives, some of the hen of the woods mushroom and that big ball looking mushroom in my pack. I picked up some strips of dried snake steak and went back down.
Harper was gathering more firewood. We were starting to get quite a large pile. There was deadfall along the bluff from trees both above and below the bluff. There was also driftwood. He had already started the fire and I saw the stones in place. I walked to the river and put water into the bowl. I was going to make a stew or soup. I placed some of the hen mushrooms, chives, watercress and the snake steak into the bowl. Once the stones got hot enough, I began to drop them in.
It wasn’t long before there was a wonderful aroma from the soup. I cut up one of the smaller tubers and chopped it up and put it into the soup. I was hoping it would thicken it up. I then shoved several tubers into the hot coals with a stick. Every now and then, I fished out a rock from the bowl and replaced it with another. Harper came to sit down beside me, he sighed happily.
“I know it sucks being here, but this is nice. I’ve always enjoyed camping. I never thought I would live out the rest of my life doing it.”
I grunted and gave him a look. He grinned back and shrugged.
“I know this isn’t your cup of tea, but I do hope you can get used to it enough to enjoy it.”
“I’m enjoying it now…ish. I think that feeling safe is a huge factor. I can enjoy it if I feel safe. At least for now, I feel safe. Also, knowing we have food to eat, helps a lot.” I said, a smile playing across my face. I reached over and picked up a few fronds while we waited for the soup to cook and thicken.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m trying my hand at weaving. I figure we’ll need baskets for storage and carrying food and whatever else.” I was trying to weave the palm fronds from the squat palmetto trees that abound here. I’d never done it before, but I figure it was kind of close to braiding.
