Alaska Adventure

by Cynthia Baxter

  As he took the book from her, his expression changed quickly from one of confusion to one of horror. “Oh, no! Laurel, where did you find this?”

  “Right here on Ben Seeger’s desk. As a matter of fact, his name is written on the front cover. Not only is the handwriting familiar, it was also written with a Rapidograph.”

  Quickly Russ turned to the front of the book. After glancing at the name scrawled there, he looked up at Laurel.

  Before either of them had a chance to speak, Dina came sailing in.

  “I found him!” she declared brightly.

  Ben Seeger was standing right behind her, a friendly smile on his face.

  He was wearing a jacket made of red-plaid wool.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “And in the live traps, we’ve caught red fox, raccoon, snowshoe hare, ground squirrel, red squirrel, red-backed vole, meadow vole, and meadow-jumping mouse.” Mariah glanced up from the list she’d been reading as she lay stretched across the plaid couch. Her foot was elevated, balanced on a tower of pillows. “Is that it for the survey of mammals living around the lake?”

  Cassie glanced up from the table, where she sat opposite Trip. “Don’t forget the porcupine Laurel and I spotted the day we went to the supermarket,” she added.

  Thinking back to that day saddened her. She and Laurel, whom, at that point, she’d thought of as her best friend, had had such fun, jumping into the Jeep and heading into town.... Now, that day seemed light-years away. She glanced over at Trip, who was sitting with his hiking boots propped up on the edge of the table, his chair leaning back so far it threatened to topple over at any minute. She hoped to catch his eye. But he was absorbed in thumbing through the marble notebook in which he kept notes.

  “I’ve spotted a few animals that we haven’t gotten in the traps,” Trip said. “I’ve been keeping a list.” Having found the page he’d been looking for, he folded over his notebook. “Let’s see. Coyote, northern flying squirrel ... and here’s the prizewinner, a marten.”

  “What’s a marten?” Cassie asked.

  “Martes americana,” Trip replied. He sounded as if he were giving a lecture. “They’re members of the weasel family, the Mustelidae. Martens are fairly small, about two feet long and low to the ground. They’re bushy and brown, with rounded ears. But what’s most distinctive about them is their face. They have pointed noses that make them look like foxes. A lot of native Alaskans go their whole lives without ever seeing one,” he added boastfully. “Guess I’ve just got a particularly good eye.”

  “What else have you spotted, Oh Great One?” asked Mariah.

  A knock outside the cabin door kept him from answering. Danny Torvold popped his head in, his bright eyes darting around the cabin.

  “Is Russ here?” the boy asked hopefully.

  “Nope,” Trip replied, barely glancing over. “Sorry, kid.”

  “He’s in Anchorage,” Cassie explained. She went over to him, peering at the stack of wooden boxes he was holding. “Hey, what have you get there?”

  “It’s my insect collection. I wanted to show it to Russ.”

  “I’m sure he’ll be disappointed that he missed it,” Man ah commented dryly,

  “When’s he getting back?”

  “Not until later tonight,” said Cassie. “We’ll be sure to tell him you stopped by.” She stood by the door, expecting the little boy to leave.

  Instead, he remained in the middle of the cabin, still clutching his collection tightly against his chest. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “So what are you guys doing?”

  “Just trying to pull some of our notes together,” Trip answered. “At least, we were before we were interrupted.” His growing impatience was reflected in his tone.

  “Maybe I could help.” Danny set his collection down on the table. “I know this lake better than anybody.”

  “This is pretty technical stuff,” Trip insisted. “What we do is a little more demanding than riding around in a canoe, looking at the pretty wildflowers.”

  “Oh, let him stay.” Mariah leaned forward to fuss with the pillows under her foot. “Or are you afraid a nine-year-old kid’s going to make you look bad?”

  Trip cast her a dirty took, then turned back to his notes. “Okay. Where were we?”

  “You were telling us how lucky you were to have spotted a wild marten.”

  “Oh, that’s right. I was lucky. It’s really hard to spot one—”

  “What did he look like?” Danny asked enthusiastically.

  “He was a perfect specimen,” Trip replied. “Foxlike face, rounded ears.... What do you think he looked like? He looked like the martens I’ve seen in books.”

  Danny frowned. “Gee, Trip. I don’t think that was a marten.”

  “What are you talking about?” Trip asked crossly. “Of course it was. Are you calling me a liar?”

  “No, I’m just saying that it’s really hard to spot one. I’ve only seen martens twice in my whole life.”

  “That’s why it was so cool.”

  “Did it have a long bushy tail?”

  “Huh?”

  “Martens are different from other weasels because they have long, bushy tails.”

  Trip squirmed in his chair. “Uh, I don’t remember seeing a long tail.”

  “So much for your National Geographic article,” Mariah said, laughing. “Why don’t you tell your fans how it feels to be outsmarted by a kid half your age?”

  “I was just trying to be helpful,” Danny protested. “I wasn’t trying to show off!”

  “We know that,” Mariah said, still laughing. “It’s Trip who’s the show-off.”

  She stopped laughing as a peculiar sound suddenly cut through the cabin. It was low and irregular, like a growl.

  Cassie looked up, blinking. “What was that?”

  “Probably just the wind,” said Trip.

  “There’s no wind tonight.”

  Nervously Cassie looked out the window. “Maybe it was a wild animal.”

  “Right.” Trip made a face. “Something really scary ... like a raccoon.”

  “Or a marten,” Mariah muttered.

  “You’re probably right. It was probably just a—”

  A loud crash right outside the cabin sent Danny rushing toward the doorway. He poked his head out through the thick curtain of mosquito netting. “It sounds like that raccoon’s going through the garbage.”

  “There’s no garbage out there,” said Trip. “Just a pile of fish traps that Dr. Wells and I are going to clean when he gets back from Seward.”

  “That raccoon’s going to be disappointed when he figures out there are no fish to go with the fish smell,” Danny commented.

  “Maybe we should close the door,” Cassie suggested. “In case he comes running in here.”

  “Not likely,” said Trip. “Besides, we’ll suffocate. Leave it open.”

  “Maybe we can open the windows a little wider. The problem with them is that they’re so darned small.” Cassie went over to the nearest window, pretending she was checking it. In reality, she was peering out, anxious to see what was making that terrible racket.

  Immediately her heart began to pound. Outside, in the dense brush, she saw something moving. A large shadowy shape, hovering just beyond the trees....

  “Something’s out there!” she gasped. “Something big!”

  Mariah rolled her eyes. “Maybe it’s Jim Whitehorse, wanting to party.”

  Cassie remained glued to the window. “I don’t think Jim Whitehorse would knock over fish traps.”

  “We should really get back to our list,” Mariah said impatiently. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but there are other things I’d like to do tonight besides play Animal

  Lotto—”

  All of a sudden something crashed against the front of the cabin, so forcefully that the entire building shook. Mariah and Cassie exchanged terrified glances. Trip jerked his head up so abruptly that he toppled his chair over. He fell
to the floor with a loud crash. Danny ran over to the window.

  “What’s going on?” Mariah shrieked. “An earthquake?”

  “This is no earthquake,” Danny replied, his voice a hoarse whisper. “It’s a bear!”

  “A bear!” Mariah could barely get the word out.

  The pounding continued, each thrust of the bear’s gigantic body growing stronger as with great determination he crashed against the cabin.

  “Be quiet!” Trip instructed, scrambling to his feet, not bothering to set the chair right. “Maybe he’ll go away if he thinks there’s no one here—”

  “No,” Danny insisted. “My dad always tells me to make a lot of noise. Yell, scream, hit pots and pans—”

  “That’s right,” said Cassie, her voice shrill. “I remember that from the day we got here.”

  Mariah just stared at them from the couch, where she remained frozen to the spot. Cassie followed Danny as he raced toward the kitchen. She was gripped by a fear more terrible than any she’d ever known. It was almost impossible for her to breathe, and her heart was beating so furiously she felt nauseous. With trembling hands she took the frying pan and metal lid Danny gave her as he crouched in front of the cabinet.

  “Here, Cassie,” he commanded. “Bang these together. Trip, take these.”

  She felt as if she were in a nightmare, scarcely able to move. The muscles of her arms were paralyzed. But somehow, she found the strength to hit the lid against the back of the frying pan.

  Trip was hitting a metal spoon against a saucepan, his face colorless. The clatter was deafening, but the bear continued pounding against the wall of the cabin.

  “Close the front door, Mariah!” Cassie screeched.

  “That won’t help!” Trip shot back.

  “Do something!” she cried. Tears were streaming down her face.

  Moving like a robot, Mariah got up off the couch. Her eyes were wide with terror.

  “Close the door!” Cassie yelled again. “Lock it!”

  Mariah stood in the center of the cabin. She was only a few feet away from the door, yet she seemed unable to cross the short distance.

  “Mariah!” Cassie’s voice was shrill. “Close the door!”

  Mariah let out a low, fearful moan.

  In a small voice, Trip asked, “Can’t we get somebody to help us? Isn’t there a radio or something?”

  “There’s one at my house,” Danny suggested. “Maybe I should run out and tell my mom and dad—”

  “No!” Cassie instructed. “Stay right where you are, Danny! Don’t you dare go outside. All we need is for the bear to see you. He’ll be after you in no time.”

  “I can run fast,” Danny insisted. “Maybe if I can outsmart him—”

  “Danny, no!” Cassie cried.

  Trip broke in, his voice shaky. “Why not? If the kid can get to a radio and get us some help—”

  “You can’t send him out there!” Cassie exclaimed.

  “Well ... what else are we going to do?” Trip demanded.

  Mariah stood in the middle of the room, her entire body shaking. “Maybe—maybe he’ll give up and just go away.”

  The four of them stood staring at the doorway. Through the mosquito netting, they could see the dark hulking frame of the bear as he banged against the building.

  And then, as suddenly as the terrible noise had begun, it stopped.

  For a few seconds there was silence. They all stood very still, barely breathing.

  And then, in a flash, a monstrous paw came through the doorway, cutting the mosquito netting. A loud ripping sound accompanied the swift motion of the bear tearing with his sharp claws.

  Cassie screamed. “He’s coming in! He’s after us!”

  “Quick, up the ladder,” Danny instructed. “We can get out through the window in the loft!”

  Trip was already rushing toward the ladder. He ran up it without once glancing back. The girls sent Danny up next. Mariah followed, letting out a yelp of pain as she put her weight on her sprained ankle. Cassie was right behind her.

  “Come on, Mariah,” she muttered. “Come on!”

  “I don’t know if I can!”

  “You’ve got to!”

  When the four had safely made it to the top, Cassie and Mariah pushed the ladder away. As it was falling to the floor, the bear crashed through, splintering the door frame with his massive body. The wooden ladder fell on top of him, and he let out a loud bellow.

  “Okay, Trip. Open the window,” Cassie instructed as calmly as she could. She kept her eyes glued to the bear. The grizzly was huge, his shoulders looming above the table, his body so long he nearly filled the front room. He moved his tremendous head from side to side as he surveyed the cabin, making an ominous growling sound. “Open the window!”

  “It’s stuck,” Trip returned. “This screen is so rusty it won’t budge!”

  Cassie watched in horror as the bear moved about the cabin. Almost immediately he lumbered toward the kitchen. With one powerful paw he reached up and swatted at the collection of cans and boxes that lined the counter. They fell to the floor with a loud crash. He remained undaunted, sticking his nose into the mess as he searched for food.

  “He’s so big,” Mariah whispered, her voice edged with panic.

  “Please, Trip. Get that window open!” Cassie begged.

  “It’s stuck. I can’t—”

  “Trip, please!”

  “Got it!” he finally shouted.

  The sound of his voice caused the bear to look up at the loft. Standing frozen to the spot, he stared blankly at the four people hovering high above him. Slowly Cassie backed away from the edge, moving closer to the window.

  “We’ve got to get out—now!” she commanded.

  Glancing over her shoulder, she saw that Trip was already doing just that. He climbed out the window, disappearing from sight as he dropped to the ground.

  “I can’t do it!” Mariah screamed. “My ankle hurts too much!”

  “You have no choice,” Cassie insisted. “Jump, Mariah!”

  “But what if he follows us outside?” Mariah grabbed hold of Cassie’s arm, clutching it so tightly it hurt. The two stood frozen to the spot, their eyes following the bear. He already seemed to have lost interest in them, instead turning his attention back to the food piled up on the floor.

  “Mariah’s right,” Danny said in a thin voice. “Maybe we’re better off staying up here.”

  Cassie looked first at the bear, then at the open window. She hesitated, not knowing what to do. It was so hard to think clearly when her mind was clouded by such a deep, sickening fear. The one thing she was sure about was that she had to make a decision fast—and that making the right choice could well determine whether or not she’d survive.

  * * * *

  Laurel and Russ were silent as they drove down the bumpy dirt road toward the cabin. It had been a long, tiring day. Having discovered that Ben Seeger was behind the bear poachings had been devastating. Yet, thinking about what still lay ahead—having to tell Dr. Wells the truth about his longtime friend and turning him in to the proper authorities—was almost as overwhelming.

  “I wonder if Dr. Wells will be back from town yet,” Laurel mused as the Jeep rounded the last bend in the dirt road and the roof of the cabin came into sight. “In a way, I hope he won’t be. I’m not exactly looking forward to telling him,”

  “We have to,” Russ said gently. “It’s the only way.”

  “I know.” Laurel bit her lip. Not only was she upset over how wrong she’d been about the conservation officer, it was also hard for her to accept the fact that someone in authority, whose job it was to protect, could actually be guilty of committing the very crimes he was supposed to be preventing. Her heart was heavy from the lesson she’d learned: things weren’t always as they seemed ... or as they should be.

  She’d been ruminating during the entire ride back from Anchorage. Yet as the cabin came into view, all thoughts about Ben Seeger and the bear poaching
instantly vanished. Automatically she jammed on the brakes.

  Laurel could scarcely believe what she was seeing: Trip leaping out of the loft window, falling to the ground with a thud. She watched in astonishment as a look of pain crossed his face, then faded quickly to one of absolute terror.

  From inside the cabin came a great racket. Thumps and crashes and the sound of glass breaking exploded through the walls. It almost sounded as if dishes and cans and jars were being thrown from the kitchen shelves. What was even more alarming was the low, uneven growling sound that accompanied it.

  “What’s happening?” Laurel demanded, bewildered.

  Trip was already rushing toward the car, moving so quickly over the rough terrain that he stumbled twice.

  “Bear!” he gasped, his eyes wild. “There’s a bear in the cabin!”

  “A bear?” Laurel repeated, gripping the steering wheel. “Where are the others?”

  “Inside.” He was gasping for breath.

  Russ leaped out of the passenger side. “Trip, is the pepper spray still on the shelf by the front door?”

  “What?” Trip stared at him blankly.

  “The pepper spray, Trip. Has anyone moved it?”

  “I-I don’t know. I can’t think—”

  Russ turned to Laurel, sitting paralyzed in the driver’s seat. “Laurel, I’ll get the others out. Help them into the Jeep. Once everyone’s inside, drive away from here as fast as you can.”

  Terror was rising up inside her. “What are you going to do?”

  “I’ll try to ward off the bear before he destroys the cabin, our notes, our equipment—” Russ was already darting toward the cabin.

  “You’re not going in there alone!”

  “Just do it!” He crossed the few yards that separated the Jeep from the cabin in a few long strides, yelling, “Cassie? Mariah? Get out! Get in the car!”

  Only a few seconds passed before Danny Torvold’s head emerged from the loft window. He hesitated briefly, then jumped out. He fell to the soft ground, then scrambled to his feet and raced toward the car.

  Cassie came next, moving more slowly and more awkwardly than the little boy. Her face was red, and she grimaced when she hit the ground. Instead of running toward the car, she turned her face up to the window, holding out her arms.