by Janette Oke
We didn’t dare build a fire. The stubble grass around us was too flammable. Besides, we had no wood anyway, so we just sliced off some more bread and ate it with Aunt Lou’s cold beans. It was some kind of drink we missed the most. Aunt Lou had tried to talk us into bringing milk, but we insisted that it would mean more to carry and our loads were heavy enough as it was. We’d have the cold, sweet spring water, we assured her. Well, we would’ve too if it hadn’t been for that old red bull.
We wrapped up our packs the best we could, shivering while we did so, and started out for our campsite before the sun had even crawled over the eastern horizon.
CHAPTER 5
The Campsite
I GUESS ALL THREE OF US were pretty anxious to wend our way up the crik. None of us had ever been there before, but we had all heard from folks who had seen the spot where the spring water bubbled out from the hillside on its way to the farmlands below. They all said what a swell spot it was with the water as clear and cold as ice crystals. The green trees leaned over the small pond “like they was tryin’ to reach their fingers down to the water,” said Grandpa.
With a long ways still to hike, we hurried as best we could— some of the hike was fairly easy, some a little harder, and some of it was downright tough. We fought our way through bush and swampy areas, always hanging close to the crik bank. There were a couple of times when we could have left the crik and taken an easier route, ’cause we knew right well which way to head and all and when we would be joining up with the crik again. But I guess we all three were pretending we were in a brand-new country, one we’d never seen before, and if we didn’t hang in tight to that crik, we’d get us lost for sure.
We stopped for some bread and cheese and a couple big juicy apples (they’d been in Willie’s pack) about noon. When we started off again, Willie wasn’t talking much and I could see him studying everything around us with a sort of contented smile on his face. He sure was enjoying this hike all right, even though he did have the heaviest pack. He had stuffed some of Avery’s broken load in his already overflowing sack. I knew he had more than his share to carry but he didn’t complain.
Avery more than made up for Willie’s quiet though—and all of it was complaining. I began to wish it’d been Avery ’stead of Jack who’d stayed home, even if the trip had been his idea. Willie didn’t take no notice of Avery. He seemed to be totally taken with the woods, the crik, and the birds that were staying for the winter.
It was afternoon and we were all sure we must be getting near the mouth of our stream. We came around a bend in the crik right smack into a steep cliff in the hillside. We had traveled the whole time on the north side of the crik, and now it cut into the hill so there was no room to walk. We’d have to cross the crik and follow on the south side for at least the present.
The crik was not deep, nor was it wide, but there was no way we could jump across it. There were no steppingstones either, and that meant getting wet. I was preparing to take off my shoes and socks and roll up my pant legs for wading when Willie spoke up.
“ ’Member that fallen log, just back a piece?”
Avery and I both looked at him. I hadn’t seen any fallen log, but then I hadn’t been watching as closely as Willie. I had likely been distracted by Avery’s grumping. Since Willie paid him no mind, Avery had stuck with me.
“I didn’t see no log,” said Avery shortly.
“Just a couple hundred yards back or so,” insisted Willie. “I’m sure it was put there for a crossing. It stretched right from the one bank to the other. If we go back, it’ll save us gettin’ our feet wet. Even though it feels hot enough, that water’ll be cold, and we won’t have much chance to warm up none—with night comin’ so early and cool.”
It made sense to me. I wasn’t too anxious to have another miserable night with cold, damp feet to boot.
“Sure,” I said, “iffen you saw a log to cross over on, let’s go back to it. I’m not hankerin’ for cold feet all night either.”
“We should’ve crossed in the first place,” groused Avery, “an’ saved ourselves all this extra travelin’. This pack is heavy enough without totin’ it fore and back.”
I gave Avery a disgusted look. His pack, thanks to his throwing things to the bull and getting them all broke up and then palming his leavings off on Willie, was the lightest of the three. I didn’t say so though, just turned and followed Willie back down the path.
Willie was right. The log was right there where he’d said it would be, from one side to the other. I daydreamed about other shoe prints on it, feet other than ours that had crossed over before us—maybe even Indians! Maybe they were the ones who’d put the log there. It was sort of like being an explorer or pioneer or something.
Willie went first. He crossed that log slick as you please. You woulda thought he’d been practicing all his life. But, then, Willie was never one to be scared of things. He’d always been the first one to take a dare—walking a high board fence, or climbing the pasture spruce trees, or most anything. I’d noticed that since he’d invited God into his life, he wasn’t so apt to do crazy things that were actually dangerous just for the fun of it.
I was next over. I wasn’t quite as sure of myself as Willie had been. I tried not to let it show, but every step I took I thought I’d be feeling that cold water washing over me.
Avery hollered after me, “Hey, wait for me, Josh! My shoes ain’t made for scalin’ slippery-barked trees. I’ll never make it with this heavy pack an’ all.”
I couldn’t turn around to look at Avery and I sure couldn’t stop in the middle of that log with nothing to hang on to.
“You can make it iffen we can,” I called back over my shoulder.
Avery didn’t say any more and I could feel him step up onto the log and start working his way across. I still couldn’t turn to look. It took all my concentration just making it myself.
I was just stepping onto the bank and heaving an inward sigh when I heard this awful screeching sound behind me. I turned around just in time to see—you’ve guessed right—Avery teetering back and forth, trying hard to regain his balance. But you could see he was losing out. Finally, with a shout for help he slipped off the log, still grabbing for a hold that wasn’t there, and fell with a big splash right into the crik.
For a moment I thought I heard the crik giggling—but I guess it was just a gurgle as Avery slipped under and then came up again.
The water was only past his knees when he finally struggled to a standing position, but deep or not, it had thoroughly soaked Avery. He stood there with the water running off him, sputtering and wiping his face. His eyes looked scared—or angry; I couldn’t tell which—and the clothes stuck close like the feathers on a rooster that has been chosen for dinner and dipped in water for plucking. Boy, did I want to laugh. I didn’t dare even exchange looks with Willie. I knew what would happen if I did, and Avery already looked upset enough.
And then I noticed Avery’s pack. It was still sitting there in the water, and in it was a good portion of what was left of our food supply. Boy, if we ever went camping again, Avery would be the one carrying the pots and pans, I decided right then. He probably couldn’t do much harm to iron skillets and enamel pots.
Willie must’ve thought of that food at the same time I did, for he swished past me, throwing off his own backpack as he ran, and was in that there crik and scooping out the soaking pack. Willie hadn’t stopped even to take off his shoes or socks and roll up his pant legs.
Most of the damage had already been done. Willie and I groaned as we sorted out soggy bread, cookies, and dripping bacon. The crik-washed vegetables and fruit were okay. A few things were still protected in the tins Aunt Lou had packed and the bull had dented. Still, we for sure had lost a fair amount of our provisions for the days ahead. Made me feel a little sick inside.
Avery’s blankets were all wet, too, and so were his extra clothes. Wouldn’t help none for him to slip behind a bush and change. What he already had on was
just as dry as anything we pulled out of his pack.
Surprisingly, Avery hadn’t said one word since he dragged himself out of the crik and stood shivering on the shore. Willie reached in his own pack and came up with some dry clothes.
“You’d better get outta your wet things before you catch a chill,” he said, and without comment Avery took the dry clothes and headed behind a nearby scrub bush.
“What’re we gonna do now?” I whispered to Willie when I thought Avery was out of earshot.
“Not many choices,” Willie whispered back. “We’ve got to set up camp as soon as possible and try to get Avery’s stuff dried out.”
I nodded, but I sure did hate to stop when we must be so close to the spring.
I slowly pulled myself to my feet. “I’ll get some wood for a fire,” I sighed.
When I got back with the wood, Willie had spread all of Avery’s clothes and blankets on the nearby bushes to dry, and he was trying to make some kind of sense out of our food supply. I could tell he was thinking of supper. He likely was as hungry as I.
I scraped away dry leaves until I reached the ground beneath. When I thought I had a safe base for the fire, I scooped handfuls of sand from the crik bank onto the spot and then went to work arranging dry leaves and grass and small chunks of wood. The fire started as soon as I put a match to it, and I think all of us greeted that cheery glow with thanks. Avery crowded in close, a mournful look on his face, almost before I had time to get myself out of the way.
As soon as the fire was going good enough, we whipped out a frying pan and put some bacon to sizzling. Boy, did it smell good. We still had some of Aunt Lou’s beans, so we warmed them in a pot. We weren’t sure if the crik water was pure enough to drink here, so we dipped out a can of it and put that on to boil. It was hard to get all three things to stay upright over the flame, and it took Willie and I our full time and attention to sort of keep moving things around and shoving sticks under and all. Avery just sat there and shivered.
“We’ll have to plan on beddin’ down here for tonight,” Willie informed us. “We can put up a shelter in the trees in no time and keep a fire goin’ all night iffen we have to.”
I knew that meant a lot more wood, so I picked up the hatchet and went off to get some stacked up. Willie stayed near enough to the fire so he could rescue anything that started to burn; then he started piling up some tree branches against a leaned-over tree so a shelter would be formed.
Avery was the one to call us for supper. Guess he had just been sitting there near to the fire and smelling the food till he couldn’t stand it anymore. We got our plates and dished up the beans and bacon, Willie making sure the portions were divided evenly. Then I stirred cocoa mixture into the bubbling water and poured out the hot liquid into our three tin cups. It sure would help to warm up our cold bodies. Willie and Avery were without shoes, them both having waded in the crik water. I had shared my extra socks with Willie, but none of us had brought extra shoes along.
The food sure tasted good. We could hardly wait till Willie had said a short grace. Then we tore into it like it was a fancy banquet or something. They say the outdoors makes things taste even better. Maybe. All I know is that supper sure did taste good. The only fault with it was that there wasn’t enough. And we sure did miss bread. Guess all of us were still hungry when our plates were cleaned up.
We each had a fall pear and felt sorrowful about not having some of Aunt Lou’s man-sized sugar cookies to go with it, but not one of us found the soggy mess that had been cookies too appealing.
The sun was already dipping around to the west. We knew it wasn’t really late, but it was beginning to get cool. Without none of us saying so, I guess we decided the day had been long enough.
I was the only one with shoes, so I kept on hauling in the wood supply. I was sure I had far more than we would ever need, but it did seem to be important to have enough to keep us warm, so I just kept piling it higher and higher.
Willie and Avery kept putting branches up against the leanto shelter. Then they put some more branches on the ground until they had a nice, thick mattress of sorts. Willie got out our blanket supply then. When I came in with a load of wood, he was busy making up one bed. I must have frowned or something because Willie seemed to think he owed me some kind of explanation.
“Only hope we have of stayin’ warm with just two sets of blankets is to all three sleep together.”
I supposed he was right, but I wasn’t used to sharing a bed with anybody. I didn’t think it would bother Willie much. He’d been sleeping with two brothers for about as long as he could remember.
We fed the fire, washed up our dishes and put away the remaining food supply. I wondered just how many meals it would make. I was glad I’d brought my fishing gear.
None of us undressed. I slipped off my shoes and set them under the shelter in case it should decide to rain in the night. Willie and Avery both put their shoes as close to the fire as they dared, hoping they would be dry enough to wear come morning.
Then we all crawled into the shelter and settled ourselves in our bed. It was decided that since Avery was the most chilled, he would sleep closest to the fire. And it would be his job to keep it stoked during the night.
Willie was the most used to sleeping with someone else, so he elected to sleep in the middle. I had the spot at the back— away from the fire and toward the stacked tree limbs that made our shelter.
It wasn’t the best night I have ever spent, I can tell you that. The prickly little spikes of spruce needles poking up through the blankets scratched you in places where you didn’t need or want to be scratched. The branches on the tree limbs, at the back of the shelter kept swiping at my face every time I moved or even breathed. Avery hogged the blankets, even if he was the closest to the fire. He seemed to roll himself in them, and I hardly had enough at the back to reach around myself.
I slept fitfully. Willie wasn’t as good about sleeping in the middle as I had thought he would be. He kept twisting this way and that, and in our cramped quarters there just wasn’t room for twisting. Avery slept. In fact, he slept so well he never did replenish the fire, and it was stone cold before it could do us much good. Come morning we were all shivering, the shoes were still soupy wet, and the stack of wood was just as high as it had been the night before.
We woke up grumpy and stiff before the sun was even in the sky. I fought my way out from the tree branches at the back and over Willie and Avery, pulled on my cold shoes and started to work on another fire, my fingers feeling stiff and icy as I tried to hold the matches steady.
I found the beat-up tin that Aunt Lou had filled with pancake fixings, added some crik water to the dry ingredients and poured some of the dough into the frying pan even before it was heated enough to sizzle. They didn’t turn out too well—least not those first ones. They were still pale and soggy and wouldn’t flip worth nothing, but we ate them anyway. They weren’t too bad with maple syrup poured over them. By the time I got to the end of the batch, the pan was too hot and they were burning even before they got a chance to cook.
In spite of all that, they tasted so good I whipped up another batch and we ate them, too. That finished off our pancake fixings. What Aunt Lou had thought would feed us for three breakfasts, we had managed to polish off in one. But then, we reasoned, we hadn’t eaten too well the day before.
The crik-drowned shoes were still wet, and the clothes and blankets in need of more drying time, so we knew it would be foolish to break up camp yet. We decided to stay right where we were.
“We have to stay here and get dried out,” said Willie. “We only have one more night to stay. There is just no way we can get up in the mornin’, walk the rest of the way to the spring and then get all the way back home again in one day.”
“You mean we have to turn around from here and go on home without even seein’ the spring we came all this way to see?” moaned Avery.
“Well, I’m sure not tryin’ to walk on to that spring in
my bare feet,” said Willie. “You wantin’ to?”
Now I knew Avery had never gone barefoot in the summer months like I had done for many summers. But I knew right well if it came down to seeing or missing that spring, I sure wouldn’t have hesitated to go shoeless, even if it was the fall and even if there wasn’t a decent path through the bush, but I didn’t say anything.
“Doesn’t seem fair,” grumbled Avery. “Here we were tellin’ all the fellas how we were gonna hike to the spring, and now we hafta go home and say we didn’t see the spring at all.”
I was feeling pretty low myself.
“Josh can still go—he’s got shoes,” Willie suddenly cut in.
Now I hadn’t even thought of going on all alone. But when Willie seemed so excited and Avery’s eyes lit up, I suddenly felt great relief. I would get to see the spring after all.
I knew this wasn’t the way we had planned it, but it did seem better than nothing. At least one of us would be able to report to the other fellas what the spring looked like in the fall of the year.
We decided I would venture up the crik on my own while the fellas dried out their clothes at our camp. I knew Willie and Avery hated to miss the adventure and I felt real sorry for them, but there didn’t seem to be much point in my just sitting with them by the fire.
I carried more wood before I left, and they snuggled back under the blankets. I knew that with nothing better to do, they would catch up on the sleep they had missed the night before. It was all I could do to keep my eyes open. I guessed I had missed more sleep than either of them.
Still I felt excitement urging me on. I was anxious to see the place where our crik was born. Was it really as pretty as folks said? Was the water as pure and cold? I decided to take a pail along with me so that when I found it, I could bring some of that famed water back to the fellas.
