First of my Kind

by Stevens, Marc

  It was starting to get dark, so I went to bed to try to get some sleep. I was anxious and agonized over my decision to leave but finally dozed off.

  I woke early and expected to see wolves out front of the cabin but they were no shows. I would take all the acorns I could get. I quickly ate the rest of the beans and drank a bottle of water. I was pleasantly surprised to feel full after eating so little for a week, a half a can of beans was a stomach full. I put on all my hunting gear and then the pistol holster over the top of my coat. I gave the wood stove shovel a glance and thought what the hell. Taking my knife back out, I cut a couple of slits in the vest behind my right shoulder and slid it in. I slipped the bear vest on, it was a little heavy but I would manage. I took the canoe ropes, tied them together, and looped it around my vest bandolier style. I put my belt and knife around my waist and managed to get it cinched it the last hole in the belt. I made a little rope loop and tied one of the tin pots I had been cooking with to my belt. I filled my water bottle, took one last look around, and headed out the door for the last time. I turned the little latch on the outside of the door and put the shutter down on the window and started walking west in knee-deep snow. I turned around once to look back. It wasn’t to look at the cabin, but to look at the outline of the rising sun through the cloudy morning sky. Turning 180 degrees, I picked a landmark on the other side of several rolling hills. It was about a mile or so away and seemed like a reasonable waypoint. I took off at a brisk walk kicking up small clouds of snow with each step.

  By the time I reached the far end of the frozen lake I was huffing and puffing. The pace I was attempting to set trying to put as much distance between me and the cabin as possible was not going to be sustainable. The knee-deep snow and a lack of food and daily exercise were not going to be a recipe for endurance. I slowed the hectic pace and just concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other and keeping my landmark in sight. The clouds were still overhead and the wind blowing at what I guessed to be twenty miles an hour out of the north, northwest. The outline of the sun was just behind me.

  The sun was moving overhead faster than I was making distance to my first landmark. I was at the base of the hill with the patch of dead timber that was my first waypoint. As I slowly climbed the thirty plus degree grade, I realized the journey was going to take much longer than I envisioned. Taking the last few steps to my landmark, I felt like I was carrying someone else on my back as fatigue made me plop down at the base of the old dead tree. I cleared the top off the snow next to me and put some in my mouth. As I slowly sucked on several mouths full of snow, I looked at the distant horizon until I picked out the cabin. I was just starting to think if I started back now I could make it back by dark. Then I noticed what looked like a dot by the cabin. As I stared harder, the dot slowly moved away from the cabin and disappeared in the direction I was taking. My heartbeat jumped to more than a fast idle as I picked myself up and wondered how fast I could make it down the other side of this hill. The next landmark was two hills over and I hoped the valleys did not have any surprises waiting on me.

  By the time I reached the rocky outcropping of my second landmark the hazy disk of the sun had beat me there and was sinking behind the tree line. I had spent a lot of time looking over my shoulder and wondering if I was just seeing things back at the cabin. The last thing I needed was one of the wolves sniffing around my back trail. I was dead tired, and I needed to find a sheltered spot for the night. The small valley to the west of my vantage point would give me an easier hike tomorrow. It looked to be about two miles wide with a creek etching a narrow line down through the middle of it. The rocky outcropping I was standing on had a natural ridge that ran up from the north. Looking directly west to the setting sun it took an abrupt drop of about six feet to a narrow ledge. Below the ledge was another drop that had to be twenty feet or more to the slope taking you down to the valley.

  Other than being a great vantage point there was no overhead protection from the weather or protection from predators. It would be dark soon and I needed to make some quick decisions, do I push on and hope for better cover or do I try to stay here? My growling stomach outvoted me and the decision to stay was final. The more I looked at the ledge the more I decided I could probably sleep on it if I cleared the snow off. For safety I would rig a line to keep me from rolling off in my sleep. The best I could do is tie one end of my rope to a dead tree on the ledge and tie the other end around my waist. It would not keep me from rolling off, but it would keep me from falling the twenty odd feet to the slope. I grabbed my fireplace shovel and cleared the snow from the ledge. With a little work I could remove enough loose dirt and rock to give myself an extra foot to park my butt on.

  I carefully sat down with my back to the rock wall behind me. Slipping my arm into the vest I pulled the tin out of its pouch and cut a quarter off one of my energy bars. I took small nibbles of it until it was gone. I was going to have part of a sugar cube but decided to save it for tomorrow morning. I reached around the back of my vest and pulled out the blanket giving me a little more room to put my back against the rock wall. The bearskin over my coat was surprisingly warm, but the wind blowing against my skin the balaclava didn’t cover was an unwelcome distraction. I solved the problem by wrapping the blanket around my face.

  The fear of falling off the ledge gave way to a fitful sleep. I woke to dirt and rock falling off the ledge above me and landing on my gloved hand. It made me think something in the darkness was reaching up from below and screwing with me. The darkness wasn’t pitch black but was close enough I couldn’t see above or below me to figure out what the hell was going on. The warmth I thought I was enjoying earlier was a byproduct of my activities and had long since left me. My hands and feet were not quite ice cubes, but I was uncomfortable enough I had to very carefully stand up. It was difficult trying to restore circulation to my chilled extremities on a ledge no more than thirty-six inches wide. By the time I got settled back in I began wondering again what woke me. The vision of the big wolf tearing apart one of his own deprived me of anymore sleep I might have accidentally gained.

  I decided it would be smart to stop next time before it got dark and start a fire to help maintain my body heat. Hopefully it would keep any interlopers from waking me during the night. It would not solve my food problem but any extra rest I got I’m sure would be a bonus to the distance I traveled. The sky was starting to get light but I could tell it was going to be another overcast day. The wind was picking up and I could see small flurries blowing around in it. I quickly downed another small portion of my energy bar and topped it off with a whole sugar cube. Trying to make my empty stomach feel a little fuller I drank the last of my bottled water. I got my gear put away and pulled myself back up onto the outcropping. As I turned around to face the valley, I saw movement down by the creek. I could just make out a moose herd moving through the brush heading south along the bank of the creek. The possibility of getting some meat to eat got my heart beating a little faster. The urge to move sent me jogging down the ridge to the north until I finally turned back west for the valley floor.

  I made good time downhill, managed to get to the valley floor, and started towards the creek. The snow was not as deep here in the valley and after about an hour, I came to a river not a creek. It was frozen over, but I vividly remember one of the native guides tell me about someone walking on river ice and falling through and never being found. I already knew about falling through ice and the thought of doing it again was terrifying. The thick snow would give no warning to thin ice and the thought of losing all the time I gained moving over level terrain was maddening. I had no choice but to skirt the river south until I found a safe crossing or a heavily used animal crossing. I headed south and soon found the fresh moose tracks from the small herd I had seen earlier this morning. I picked up the pace as best I could and used the animal trail to my advantage to make better time in the well trampled snow. After what seemed like a half a mile, the river narrowed. The wildl
ife trail crossed at a point where several boulders made a partial chain across the river. About halfway across the river I could hear water gurgling among the daisy chain of boulders. I found where one of the animals managed to bust through the ice in a shallow spot. Reaching in my vest I pulled out my bottle and filled it with water and then lay down and drank my fill of the fresh cold water. I popped a sugar cube in my mouth and took off west chasing the pale disk of the sun.

  I made it out of the valley and back into the rolling hills. My landmark was north of me but the sun kept me heading in the right direction. My next hurdle was the small mountain obscuring my distant landmark until I crested its summit. I made it to the base of the steep incline and started up knowing it was going to cost me an enormous amount of energy I did not have. I desperately needed a meal and a full night’s sleep. I was over half way up the small mountain and literally crawling over the edge of a ravine. I could see it ran to a small snow covered plateau.

  I was getting ready to stand and not forty yards in front of me a deer climbs up across from me and stops. I fall flat to the side of the ravine only to have my cooking pot clatter on the rocky ground. Stifling a curse I tried to relax and slow my runaway heart. I pulled Bill’s .44 out and slowly tried to take a look to see if I scared the first real chance at a meal since I was stranded. My heart was beating so loudly I could hear it in my ears. I peeked back over the edge and saw the deer circling the top of the ravine and coming back towards me. The wind is blowing in my face and I’m sure it can’t smell me. If it keeps coming in my direction it’s going to go down the hill very close to me. I pulled back the hammer on the pistol and started to stand up. As I look up the deer’s head comes over the top of the hill in front of me. The pistol fired without me thinking I pulled the trigger. The recoil makes me stumble and slide back down the hill a couple of feet losing sight of my prey. I scrambled back up the hill and looked to see if my hasty shot brought down the animal. My first glimpse over the crest revealed two deer in full retreat across the small plateau. The sinking feeling it gave me almost had me in tears at the sight of their rear ends disappearing over the distant hillside. I was trying to shake the feeling of total despair when I notice a blood splatter on the snow. I took a few steps more and to my quickly fading anguish, found the small doe lying dead in the deep snow. Tears return to the corners of my eyes as I fall to my knees beside the fresh carcass. I look up into the overcast sky and scream as loud as I can, “Thank you!”

  Holstering the pistol I pull my knife and have the deer field dressed and skinned in no time at all, not forgetting lessons learned from countless past hunts. It will be dark in a couple of hours and I needed to find a decent spot for shelter and to get a fire going. I looked uphill and noticed a thick stand of pine trees that had intertwined branches. It looked like a great place to have overhead shelter but probably was not the best place for a fire. The small plateau stretched for about a hundred fifty yards and disappeared around the hillside to the south. The victory lap my stomach was doing made me decide dragging the deer carcass all over hell and back wasn’t going to happen. I took off for the tree line closest to me with dead timber on its fringe.

  The base of the hill had little in the way of shelter but the dead timber would make it easy to get a fire going. The thought of warmth and a meal pushed aside any concern for a protected sleeping area. I was busy chopping away the branches on a fallen treetop with my borrowed ax. I started getting the feeling I usually get when I start hearing my Grandparent’s simple philosophies on life. I took a quick look around and froze open mouthed and wide eyed. In the slowly fading afternoon sunlight, I saw a good size wolf busily trying to clean up my discarded gut pile. I had heard that sometimes a gunshot was considered a dinner bell to the less indoctrinated predators. The wild partying my stomach had been doing came to a screeching halt. It moved aside to let the small shot of shit from my nearly empty bowels hit me right in the heart. I yanked the offending dinner bell from its holster and was just starting to take careful aim when another wolf joined the big one doing most of the eating. After a couple minutes of yipping, biting and ass grabbing, they both settled in and quickly polished off their snack. I yelled out in frustration at the pair, “This is mine!” Just to reinforce the statement I pulled my knife, cut a strip from the back of the freshly skinned deer. I made a show of shoving it into my mouth not caring about the generous helping of hair still clinging to the sticky raw meat.

  Apparently, my lack of etiquette got their attention because the larger of the two started in my direction with its nose up and sniffing at the wind. The other wolf decided that licking the bloody snow and the pile of hairy hide must be as stupid as it looked. In a few quick strides it caught up with its partner. They both moved in my direction with a slow purposeful gait that I was sure would end in a private meeting with me. The Lord giveth, and the wolf taketh away.

  I remember promising Granddad that I would never point a gun at anything I did not plan on eating. Back at the cabin, it was my intention to eat wolf, now it was a matter of surviving the encounter. I knew they were after my kill and would be happy to take it away from our eminent meeting. However, the fact I had a considerable amount of fresh deer blood on my coat and pants might blur the facts as to what exactly is on the menu. I pulled the pistol up again and gave the big boy my undivided bet your life on it aim. I was going to let him know the error of his ways when he got about fifty yards away from me. As I decide to just go ahead and give him the facts, out of the ravine come four more wolves and three much smaller versions yipping and yapping. Just when I think it can’t get any better, off to my right two more adults and two pups come over the side of the hill. The pups all took a keen interest in the bloody snow and pieces of hair covered hide and decided to have a free for all. Every one of the adults locked eyes on me. I do not know who called the public meeting but if asked, I would gladly inform them I was never a fan of large gatherings no matter what the occasion.

  The pistol had five rounds left in it and I had three more on the holster. The standoff was over and I blinked first. It was starting to get dark, and I needed to find some place safe to hole up for the night. My final act of defiance was to turn back and take aim at the big Alfa male and what would turn out to be too hasty of a shot. I pulled the trigger missing the big wolf by inches but killing its companion walking just to the side of him. Sorry Granddad, I broke my promise. The deafening report temporarily adjourned the meeting and scattered the gathering. I quickly carved off another piece of meat from the deer carcass then picked up my ax and took off uphill as fast as I could.

  My frenzied uphill run was fueled by adrenalin that quickly tanked after about two hundred yards leaving me panting for breath and my legs shaking to the point of collapse. The shadows on the east side of the small mountain were deep and dark enough to limit visibility to about fifty feet or so. I was running out of time and could barely fend off the panic that felt like a belt squeezing tighter around my chest. I broke out of the tree line and staggered up a steep rock covered hill. I stopped to catch my breath, which bordered on a ragged wheezing. Looking back, the way I had come, I saw no signs of the wolves. Turning back uphill I looked to the summit thinking it was my only choice. Off to my right was a dead fall of old pine. The trees may have been the victim of a lightning strike some time in the past judging by the fire blackened tops lying parallel to the slope. I ran to the dead fall and decided this was my only hope for a safe overnight camp. The dead fall was wrapped around the trunk of a larger dead pine and only had access on the downhill side. Along the side of the larger pine that held the dead fall was a small branch covered hollow. At this time of the evening the small hollow looked like Fort Knox to me.

  I took the fireplace shovel and scooped as much snow from under the dead fall as I could. Then added to the small pile with the snow from what would be my fire pit. I was attempting to make a barricade out of snow but only managed to make it about two feet tall on the open end of the dead fall
. It was almost completely dark, and I took my ax and started chopping all the branches I could see hanging down into the small hollow under the fallen branches. It was really cold on the slope but the wind wasn’t blowing so strongly I would freeze if I didn’t get a fire going. I stacked my branches in the muddy hole that was to be my fire pit and took out my tin and my bottle of lamp oil. I needed to do something quick because I could hardly see my hand in front of my face. I had not seen a sunny clear sky or the moon in all the time I had been stranded. I wondered if I should just add that to the long list of penalty shots you get for purposely stranding yourself.

  I opened my tin and pulled out the pages I cut out of the cookbook for my mirror. I wadded up each one, placed them strategically in my stick pile, and added a little lamp oil. I opened my overstuffed matchboxes and relieved each of enough matches that the covers finally closed properly and added them to my fire pit saving one for the grand finally. I took a couple of steps back up hill and struck a match and threw it on the pile only to have it bounce off and go out in the snow. Letting out an oath I grabbed my box of matches and extracted another one. Leaning down, I lit the match and gently applied it to the bottom of the pile. The lamp oil caught and then the matches took off in a pyrotechnical display that singed my eyebrows and the fuzz off my sock hat. Slapping at my face and hat to assure myself I was not a candle, I ran through a considerable list of expletives. I finally got my flash burned corneas to recognize the ax leaning against the prominent ridge pole of my soon to be shelter. I chopped off any branches not necessary to my surrounding enclosure. Putting the ax aside I collected and stacked them tee pee style around my small fire. The resulting heat gave me the feeling of security I had lost when I left the cabin.

  Reaching into my bearskin vest, I pulled out the small strip of deer meat. I cleaned it as well as possible with the melting snow from around the blazing fire pit. I dug out the salt and pepper shaker and gave it several liberal doses of both. Thinking what the hell, I poured the loose sugar out of the little sugar tin onto the meat as well. I took a few branches, made a small platform alongside my roaring fire, and put the seasoned meat on it to cook. The meat was barely cooked before I took my knife and sliced off a piece and popped it in my mouth. It wasn’t quite hot and not even close to the flavor my mind led me to believe it would taste like. It was still worlds away from bloody hair covered mess I had eaten earlier. My meal lasted maybe five minutes and for the first time in over a week, I no longer felt the gnawing pang of hunger. The overwhelming feel of fatigue from the day’s excursion and my lack of sleep from the previous night, was taking its toll on my need to chop more wood for the fire. I hastily cut several good size branches and put them on my small bonfire. Pulling my blanket out of my vest I lay back on the snowy ground, slid my torso up under the branches of the dead fall, placed the blanket over my face, and quickly fell asleep.