by Hodder, Beth; Ore, Florence; Zoellner, Guy; Vekkos, Maria
The wranglers, who this time happened to be Mandy, Cody, and Jed, got the horses and mules fed and saddled so they’d be ready when the trail crew left for their work project. I didn’t want anyone to leave. It would be a lot quieter at Schafer without them. It would also be way spookier with fewer people around if the ghost came back for another visit.
On my way to the cookhouse for breakfast, I heard a loud “vroom” as a plane engine came to life. Hank Cooter’s plane began to move, first slowly and then faster and faster, lifting off the ground just before the end of the runway. Goodbye and good riddance, I thought.
In the cookhouse, the trail crew finished eating.
“Hey,” I said. “Someone shouted ‘Come boys!’ this morning to the horses. Aren’t there any mares?”
Cody took his plate to the sink to wash. “Not normally, Jessie. They’d distract the geldings—males—and there might be fights. It’s too much trouble.”
I bolted down my food so I could say goodbye to everyone. Mandy and Jed had tied the horses and mules to the hitch rail at the back of the cookhouse and were putting the manty packs on the mules. Mandy hoisted one heavy manty that must have weighed close to 100 pounds, set it against a mule’s saddle, and wrapped a rope tightly around it, securing it to a ring on top of the saddle. Jed put another manty on the mule’s other side. They loaded the manties so the weight on each side was even, making it easier and safer for the mule to carry its heavy cargo. The animal just stood there like it was no big deal, even closing its eyes as if ready for a nap.
Dad gave last minute instructions to the crew and told them he’d be out to visit soon. Celie, Cody, and Mandy looked like construction workers in hard hats, gloves, high-topped leather boots, long pants, and long-sleeved shirts. They hiked in the lead, carrying only their backpacks.
Jed rode behind them on Rocky, guiding the pack string, his cowboy hat shading his face. He held a rope in one hand that was attached to the first mule’s halter. Another rope tied to a loop on the back of the mule’s saddle was then secured to the next mule’s halter and so on. All the animals were attached together. They walked single-file as they carried their heavy loads down the trail. Pete rode in the rear so he could watch the mules in case their packs slipped and needed an adjustment.
“See ya,” I said to the crew, waving as they walked away.
“Be safe,” Dad said, also waving. Then to me he said, “How’d you like to take a plane ride this morning with Jim?”
“Would I! I’d love to. Where are we going? How long will we be gone?”
“Whoa. Hold on a second,” Dad said to stop me from asking any more questions. “Before he left Kalispell yesterday Jim found out he had some important business papers to sign. They weren’t ready yet, but a friend of his plans to camp near Spotted Bear tonight and said he’d bring them today and meet Jim at the Spotted Bear airstrip. Jim plans to make a short stop at the ranger station after that and return to Schafer this afternoon.”
“That’d be incredible, Dad. I’ll go talk to Jim now.”
Dad smiled. “I think I heard him in the cookhouse talking with Charlie and your mother.”
With Oriole at my heels, I burst through the cookhouse door, full of questions for Jim, but he caught me off guard.
“Would you like to take Oriole?”
“You’re kidding!”
“No, I’m not. She’d have to ride in the back seat, and I’d want to circle the station a couple of times first just in case she gets scared and doesn’t want to fly. If that happens, we can land again and let her out.”
“When can we go?” I asked, practically dancing with joy.
“How soon can you be ready?”
“I’m ready!”
******
Jim asked me to pack us a lunch while he got the plane ready to go. Dad and Mom reminded me of the safety training I’d had about flying in the mountains. I had flown in small planes many times when we lived in New Mexico, but the Forest Service requires a review of all safety precautions before every trip. When Oriole and I got to the plane, Jim showed me the emergency beacon switch and survival gear, how to position my body in case we had “an unscheduled landing,” how to speak to him through the microphone in my helmet, and lots of other safety messages about flying.
Mom handed me some CDs, an envelope to put them in, and postage. She also gave me an armload of rechargeable laptop batteries and asked me to exchange them for other batteries in our house at Spotted Bear.
Oriole jumped into the back seat. Dad and Mom gave me a hug and I swung into the front seat on the passenger’s side. Then Jim got in and we were ready to go.
“Got your camera?” Jim asked. Mainly he wanted to know if I could hear him through my helmet and if I could push the button on my microphone to respond.
“Camera’s ready. I can’t wait to take some photos from the air. It’ll be awesome.”
“Well, let’s get to it then,” Jim said.
He started the engine. The plane came to life. I looked in the back seat. Oriole’s eyes were huge.
Jim saw her, too. “I read that dogs hear far better than humans. The noise must be deafening for her.”
“It’s too bad there’s not a headset for dogs to wear. Maybe that’ll be my big invention.”
Jim checked all the switches and gauges he needed to test before takeoff. Then he slowly taxied the plane. We bumped our way out onto the grassy runway. Jim stopped the plane and contacted Kalispell City Airport with a flight plan. A pilot always has a plan and someone knows where the plane is at all times and when it’s expected to arrive at its destination.
We were ready to go. The engine got louder and louder, and the plane shook like it would lift off the ground before we even began to taxi. Oriole had moved. She had her back legs on the seat, her front paws on the floor, and her head on my arm. She didn’t look too sure about flying.
We taxied down the runway, picking up speed, staying on the ground for what seemed like forever. Then suddenly we were airborne, and the plane climbed and climbed.
Jim looked straight ahead. “How’s Oriole doing?”
She still sat in her takeoff position, her head reaching farther up my arm. She tried to get as close to me as possible. “I think she’s okay, but let’s do the two circles you suggested.”
While Jim circled I talked to Oriole and stroked her head. “It’s okay, Oriole. You know I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. Just take it easy.”
Oriole sat stiffly for a while and then slowly began to relax. By the time we started into the second circle she looked like she thought maybe all would be okay. I gave Jim a thumbs-up and he banked the plane in the direction of Spotted Bear.
We flew above the same trail that our family had ridden into Schafer. Everywhere we looked we saw mountains, mountains, and more mountains. Even the biggest ones appeared tiny from the air. Snow still covered most of them. The highest ones were rocky and treeless on top. The lowest mountains had thick trees that blended together so it looked like a dark green sea. Some had trails that zigzagged up and up from far below before they disappeared into the snow.
I wondered if the crew would have to clear the trails of snow. That would be a lot of shoveling. I bet they probably just waited for it to melt.
The sun shone brightly on the mountains. The cloudless sky and crisp clean air brought everything into sharp focus. I snapped pictures left and right as we flew, hoping my new digital camera took good photos. I couldn’t wait to send some to the Two J’s in New Mexico to make them jealous of me.
Jim glanced into the backseat. “Looks like Oriole’s a seasoned flyer now.” I turned around to see her sitting on the seat behind me, staring out the window and wagging her tail.
I beamed. “Oriole’s pretty amazing. I should have named her ‘No Fear.’ She may be afraid for a while but when she figures out that something’s not dangerous she gets into it and has fun.”
The flight was short. What took us most of a day on horseback took
only about a half hour by plane. Before I knew it we were flying next to the South Fork River and then landing on Spotted Bear’s grassy airstrip. Touching down didn’t seem any more bumpy than if we’d been in a big plane at a large airport.
Jim got out of the plane and waved to a man standing next to a truck. He walked toward him.
“Hey, Jim, is it okay with you if Oriole and I join you in a couple of minutes?” I said. “I want to take a few pictures here.”
“No problem. We’ll wait for you ’til you’re done.”
Oriole and I walked toward the edge of the trees closest to the river. A horse trailer was parked nearby, and a small white plane was just down the runway from the trailer.
“Oriole, look how pretty the plane and trailer look against the mountains. This’d be a great picture to show the Two J’s back home.”
I snapped a couple of photos before a familiar but unwelcome form walked out of the woods towards us.
“Well, if it isn’t Tweedle Dumb and Tweedle Dumber,” said Hank Cooter.
N I N E
Break-In at the Food Cache
Hank Cooter was the last person I wanted to see right then. Apparently Oriole felt the same way, because she began her low growl.
“Keep that mutt away from me,” Hank snarled. He kicked out in her direction.
“Oh, don’t worry. This dog has more sense than you do. She doesn’t want to be anywhere near you. Why can’t you come around us without saying something nasty?”
I was about to say more when I felt a firm hand land on my shoulder.
“Look, Hank,” said Jim, who seemed to appear out of nowhere. “We didn’t come here for a confrontation. Why don’t you just mind your own business and be on your way.”
Hank Cooter stood like he was itching for a fight, staring at Jim with those cold watery eyes, but all he said was, “Fine. You go your way and I’ll go mine. But keep that kid and her dog away from my plane.”
“I wasn’t interested in your lousy plane. All I wanted to do was take some scenery pictures.”
Jim’s hand squeezed harder on my shoulder.
“Come on, Oriole,” I said, turning away. “Let’s go find some better air to breathe.”
Oriole hadn’t budged the whole time we stood there. I was relieved, hoping that meant she wouldn’t attack someone even if they provoked her. It might be another story if someone came after me, though.
As Jim and I walked back to the waiting truck and his friend, he started to laugh.
“What’s so funny?” I didn’t see any humor in the situation.
“Nothing really.” He coughed to suppress another laugh. “I’m just amazed at how you took him on. He would have scared away a lot of people, including most adults.”
“Yeah, well, nobody treats me like that. And nobody treats my dog like that, either.”
“Just be careful not to get too out of hand. You can’t win with someone like him, no matter how right you are.”
We reached the truck, and Jim introduced me to his friend. “George Halloway, meet Jessie Scott and Oriole.”
George shook my hand firmly and reached down to pat Oriole. “I’ve never seen a yellow dog with markings like that.”
“That’s why I named her Oriole. She reminded me of one. And you should hear her sing.”
Jim had retrieved our lunches from the plane and handed me mine as we loaded into the truck. Oriole settled down with her head on my lap and her body stretched out, taking up most of the back seat. “Where are we going?” I asked.
“To the ranger station. I’ll sign the papers George brought for me and then we’ll get your mom’s CDs in the mail and exchange the batteries for her laptop, if that’s okay with you.”
“Sure. Oriole and I can visit everyone. And I brought my phone card with me to call my friends back in New Mexico. Wait ’til they hear what’s been happening.”
******
Spotted Bear was a lot quieter than before. The trail crews were all in the wilderness, so the only people there worked right at the station. Remembering Will, the boy I met the day we got to Spotted Bear, I banged on the door to his gingerbread house hoping he’d be home, but no one answered. Oriole and I went across the swinging bridge and down to the beach where she had nearly drowned. The river had dropped a lot, and there were no more rapids. It was safe to throw sticks for her in the water. She swam while I ate my lunch.
After lunch we went to our house. I replaced the used batteries for Mom’s laptop with new ones and got some more CDs for her. Then we went to the office.
“Hi Cindy,” I said, sticking my head in the door of the lobby. “How goes it?”
Cindy stood up from her desk behind the counter. “Hey, Jessie. Good to see you. And how’s my favorite wilderness dog?” Oriole whined as she waited for Cindy to come outside to greet her. “Seeing Oriole makes my day. I get my dog fix from her.”
Oriole seemed content to be pampered by Cindy while I called the Two J’s in New Mexico from the phone outside the office door. June and Julie shrieked into the phone when they heard it was me. It was so much fun hearing their voices.
“It’s been raining for days and days,” June said.
“And we’re sick of it,” Julie added. “It’s supposed to be desert here. Now we have to worry about flash floods.”
“The mountains around Silver City have turned a beautiful green after all the rains.”
“But what about you, Jessie? Are you having fun? Do you miss us?”
“Miss you? Why would I do that? And what are your names again?”
We laughed and laughed. I couldn’t stop talking about all that had happened since leaving New Mexico. I told them about Oriole almost drowning, meeting Will and Allie, Hank Cooter, my scary ghost experience, and flying. When I finally said goodbye and hung up the phone, I realized that I was having fun and really loved Schafer Meadows. As much as I didn’t want to admit it, Dad was right—everything would be okay.
With that knowledge, I walked into the office again, smiling. Rosie had come in while I was on the phone, looking very much like a district ranger and Dad’s boss. She stood talking with Jim and George.
“There doesn’t seem to be anything out of place in any of the houses,” Rosie was saying, “but someone broke the padlock off the food cache and stole some of the food ready to go into the wilderness.”
“When?” George asked.
“We’re not sure. Probably either late last night or early this morning. Packer Brad Peters was supposed to take more food and supplies into Schafer tomorrow, but when the folks who work in the food cache went to get the food for him, they found a real mess. You can come see for yourselves if you’d like.”
At the food cache I made Oriole sit just inside the door where she could see us but not get into trouble. We had to step carefully to not disturb anything. The place was trashed. It looked like someone had tossed bags of nuts, cans of vegetables, and boxes of noodles over their shoulder. Jars of jam and jelly, pickles, and mayonnaise lay broken on the floor. The cooler door stood wide open, and we gawked at squashed tomatoes, broken eggs, and ripped open cheese packages.
Rosie raised her hands in disgust. “Why would someone do such a thing? It’s bad enough that they stole food, but it’ll take a long time to clean up this mess. It puts our packing schedule back a few days, and we’ve got a full summer’s worth of work already.”
I don’t know why but I got out my camera and started taking pictures. Maybe Mom and Dad would like to see them. “Were there any clues?”
“Not much. Someone left behind a partial print from a smooth-soled boot, probably a cowboy boot. But just about everyone wears cowboy boots around here, so that’s not much help.”
I took a photo of a print in some spilled flour. Whoever wore those boots had large wide feet. There was a small circle near the tip, probably from wear and tear.
Oriole sniffed around near the door. She couldn’t reach the boot print without actually going inside the cache.
I got down and whispered to her. “Be careful. We don’t want to mess up the crime scene. Too bad we won’t be here. With your nose, I bet we could figure out who did this in a second.”
“Is there any way to trace whoever did this?” Jim asked.
“I don’t know,” Rosie said. “Law enforcement’s on the way. We’ll see what they come up with. Meanwhile, keep your eyes open for anything that looks suspicious or out of place. It’s always possible that whoever did this is still in the area. But please be careful and don’t interfere. If you see anything, just give us a call. We’ll take it from there.”
“Right. And we’ll have Tom call you from Schafer. You can fill him in on what’s happened.”
“Good, but have him call me on the satellite phone, not on the radio. We don’t want anyone listening to this conversation.”
“Okay. Well, we’d better get going if we want to get back to Schafer this afternoon. I’ll have Tom call you when we get in.”
George drove Jim, Oriole, and me back to the airstrip. Jim and George talked about the break-in at Spotted Bear. When we got to the plane, we said our goodbyes. George left to finish his camping trip, and we headed back to Schafer.
As we took off, it occurred to me that Hank Cooter’s plane was no longer there. I hoped this would be the last we saw of him.
T E N
A Trail Mess
When we landed at Schafer Jim got Mom’s CDs and batteries out of the plane and carried them to the house. He stopped abruptly just inside the door. “What’s wrong, Kate?” he asked.
I walked inside behind Jim to find Mom crying. She blew her nose and wiped her eyes. “Felicia is devastated. Matthew just died.”
I rolled my eyes. “Oh, is that all? For a minute I thought it was something really important.”
Jim looked at me like I was the scum of the earth.
“No, hold on. You don’t understand. Felicia and Matthew are characters from Mom’s newest novel. Mom often cries when she kills someone off, especially if it’s someone she really likes.”
