Ruffling Society

by Kay Moser

Bert laughed heartily. “I hope you feel as exuberant by supper time when we return with our aching muscles and sore feet.”

  ***

  After breakfast, the enthusiastic teachers piled into open carriages and wagons that awaited them in front of the dining hall, their laughter filling the bright, sunny air.

  A distinctive voice called from the top of the stairs, “One moment! I shall be with you in just a moment.”

  “He’s not coming, is he?” Bert demanded of Sarah.

  “You did invite the faculty,” Sarah reminded her.

  “I’m glad Professor Wickham is coming,” Ella said. “I think he adds a bit of class to our group, Bert.”

  “Class? Is that what you call it? I call it annoying arrogance.”

  “Sh-h-h!” Sarah shushed them. “Here he comes.”

  “Please accept my most sincere apologies, ladies,” Dr. Wickham said as he climbed into Sarah’s carriage. “I was so caught up in a discussion of The Tempest with Professor Morton I forgot the time. I tell you, that man has no understanding of Prospero at all. How he can teach Shakespeare is beyond me.”

  “No Shakespeare today, Professor Wickham,” Bert decreed.

  “Quite right, Miss Caine. This is a day for the Romantics. Ah … Wordsworth would have loved—”

  The drivers snuffed out Dr. Wickham’s comment with a shout at the horses and a snap of their whips. The teachers waved at every passerby as they clipped through Boulder. When they turned into the canyon, however, the steady climb began, and the vehicles slowed as the horses strained. A rushing creek crashed against huge boulders, sending wild sprays of crystal drops into the air. When the flying water returned to the creek, it foamed and eddied in swirling snakes of currents, flashing silver in the shadows and golden in the sunlight. Sarah had never seen a body of water so full of life, nor heard anything like the deafening noise it produced as it plummeted down the canyon.

  Frequent shouts of awe replaced the laughter of the teachers.

  “Look at that!”

  “Good heavens! Look at that tree; it’s growing out of a rock.”

  “The cliffs go straight up!”

  Sarah’s studies of geology had taught her that the might of this creek tumbling across the rock for thousands of years had created the canyon. By patiently wearing the rock down, forming the narrow path they traveled on, the water had literally divided an ancient mountain, bringing light into a place of darkness and giving the wind a channel to blow through and transport the seeds of new growth.

  The voices of the teachers grew distant as Sarah’s thoughts gained supremacy. Water, light, soil—only seed was needed, and the wind carried that in. She focused on the edges of the creek and found plant life in every form. Short, stunted, dark-green conifer trees tried to approach the creek but were undermined by the swirling water. Half their roots hung, bare of soil, in the water, while the other half buried themselves in crevices of giant rocks. Theirs was a battle against a mighty force. The water that had made their existence possible would someday sweep them downstream.

  Fern-like foliage offered less resistance to the mighty flow, swirling and eddying with the water. Perhaps it will survive longer than the tough-looking trees. It knows when to relax, when to relent. Sarah examined the rocks and found mottled surfaces, colored by mosses and even tiny clumps of tenacious flowers. How I wish Victoria could see all this! What paintings she would make.

  The carriages climbed higher, winding with the creek, traveling in and out of the sunshine. How chill and moist the air grows in the shade; has this rock alcove ever seen light? Sarah drew her shawl tight around her shoulders and shivered. Minutes later, when they rolled into the sunshine, she flung the shawl off and basked in the welcome heat and brightness. For several hours they repeated the exercise, swinging in and out of light, steadily climbing.

  When the land leveled, the space between the rock walls widened into a spring-green valley that sported large, deciduous trees. The creek stopped its noisy jostling with boulders and wound through woods of white-barked trees. The carriages and wagons halted in front of wooden tables that had been built for the pleasure of summer tourists, and the teachers piled out, exclaiming joyfully when their feet hit the ground. Sarah remained in the carriage by herself and looked far up to the end of the valley, where snow-topped mountains stacked against each other, backing away until the horizon swallowed them up.

  “Aren’t you going to get down, Sarah?” Bert called up to her.

  Sarah pointed to the distant peaks. “Look, Bert. The glaciers. Aren’t they magnificent? All that gleaming white against the blue sky.”

  “There is a better viewing spot we can hike to,” Dr. Wickham said.

  “How do you know?” Bert demanded.

  “Oh, I am no novice to these mountains, Miss Caine. I’ve hiked them extensively, following the example of Wordsworth and Coleridge, of course.”

  Bert snorted. “Of course.”

  Ignoring her sarcasm, Dr. Wickham offered Sarah his hand. “Allow me to assist you, Miss Novak, and after we’ve had a sufficient repast, we shall hike up to the viewing spot. A great overhang of rock juts out over the valley floor and gives one an excellent view of the glaciers. Well worth the hike, I assure you.”

  “And I assure you that Sarah is not hiking anywhere alone with you,” Bert answered for Sarah.

  Dr. Wickham tightened his lips in annoyance. “You are welcome to join us, Miss Caine, but I am surprised that a woman of your age …”

  Bert’s eyes snapped wide open as her face flushed scarlet. “Allow me to assure you that I am plenty young and fit enough to complete any hike you propose, Professor!”

  “Then it’s settled.” Sarah rushed to speak before more tension mounted between them. “As soon as we eat, we’ll begin. I want to see everything.”

  “Food and then a bit of rest before such strenuous activity,” Bert decreed.

  “If your digestion is that feeble, Miss Caine, we will wait for you, of course. Christian charity demands it. Come, Miss Novak.” Dr. Wickham took Sarah’s elbow and guided her toward the picnic tables.

  “How kind,” Bert called after them.

  CHAPTER 38

  “You’re sure, Professor, you’re familiar with the path up to the overlook?” The guide, Mountain Jack, looked dubious as he asked. “Mountain paths disappear quickly during the winter, and if you ain’t been up there yet this summer—”

  “My good man, I would hardly endanger the life of Miss Novak.”

  Mountain Jack turned to Sarah. “You better take Smoky, Miss Novak.” He pointed to a large dog that looked like a wolf. “He’ll get you back.”

  “I will get her back,” Dr. Wickham insisted.

  “Take Smoky.” Mountain Jack turned his back on Dr. Wickham and spoke to Sarah. “And be sure you start back down by four o’clock. Gets mighty cold up there soon as the sun slips behind them highest peaks.”

  “We do not need a dog,” Dr. Wickham insisted. “Especially not one that’s more wolf than dog. I am perfectly capable of escorting Miss Novak without canine assistance.”

  “Come on, Smoky!” Sarah called. “Let’s go for a hike.”

  The dog bounded to her side, and Sarah reached down to rub him behind the ears. “Good boy. You’re ready for an adventure, aren’t you? Come on, let’s get my shawl and call Bert.”

  “Must I tolerate both a dog and Miss Caine?” Dr. Wickham demanded.

  “Yes, you must!” Sarah tossed the comment back over her shoulder as she walked away.

  “Then we’ll need a muzzle.”

  Mountain Jack wheeled around and scowled at him. “Smoky don’t wear no muzzle.”

  “Perhaps not, but Miss Caine needs one,” Dr. Wickham retorted.

  Sarah sighed as she reached down and ran her hand across Smoky’s thick-furred back. “We may need to distance ourselves from those two,” she whispered to the dog. When Smoky replied with a single, quick bark, Sarah burst out laughing. “I see you’ve already f
igured that out, boy.”

  “I don’t understand why no one else wants to come,” Bert grumbled as they began their climb out of the valley. “What’s the point of being in the Rocky Mountains if you don’t get out and experience them?”

  “Mediocrity and laziness go hand in hand, Miss Caine,” Dr. Wickham replied.

  “I beg your pardon, Professor! I’ll grant you that my teachers are being lazy today, but they are far from mediocre, and I’ll not have you labeling them with derogatory terminology.”

  Dr. Wickham stopped and turned to her. “I am merely describing what I see, Miss Caine. Empirical evidence is most convincing.”

  “Empirical evidence indeed.” Bert’s fists flew to her waist.

  Sarah grabbed Smoky’s thick ruff and urged him forward as she whispered, “Let’s go, boy. We don’t want to listen to this.”

  They climbed as quickly as Sarah’s shortened breath would allow. The path narrowed and became fainter, but Smoky obviously knew his way. He trotted ahead, and when Sarah paused to gasp for renewed oxygen, he hurried back to her side.

  Sarah laughed at the eager, tail-wagging dog. “I’m slowing you down, Smoky. No doubt about it, but I can’t be totally sorry I have to stop. Just look at this view!”

  She glanced back at the wide, spring-green valley and traced the tumbling creek up, up, until it flowed below the precipice she stood on. Following it forward toward the snow-capped peaks, she saw it disappear around a curve. Two good companions. Smoky and that wild, happy creek dashing downward, glittering in the sun. The sound of voices behind her jerked her attention back to the path. “Let’s go, boy, before they catch up with us.”

  The dog bounded ahead, and Sarah followed as the increasingly steep path became sheer rock under her boots. She slowed, and as she watched her footing more closely, she discovered the smaller beauties she had previously missed. An alpine garden, filled with miniature flowers she had never seen, bloomed at her feet—tiny, sunny-yellow daisies, taller stems of blue-and-lavender, bell-shaped blossoms. Even the rocky path seemed to bloom as it glinted its silver-sparked hues in the sunshine.

  “Wait for us, Sarah,” Dr. Wickham shouted. “You’ll get lost without a knowledgeable guide.”

  Sarah grinned at Smoky. “I think we’re doing just fine, don’t you?”

  The dog barked, pranced a few seconds, then took off running up the path. “I’m right behind you,” she called after him. “Well, not really, but I’m coming as fast as my Texas lungs allow.” Looking back at Bert and Augustus, Sarah observed their hands gesturing in a way that convinced her they were having their customary disagreements, so she climbed faster, determined to keep out of earshot.

  About ten minutes later, she noticed that the path had disappeared, and Smoky kept darting in front of her and lying down to block her way. “What’s wrong, boy? Why won’t you let me keep going?” She looked up ahead and could see no danger, then turned and called down to Dr. Wickham. “Are you sure we’re still on the path?”

  “Of course, I’m sure.”

  “Smoky keeps trying to stop me.”

  “Don’t be silly, Miss Novak. You give the dog too much credit for being intelligent. It’s just a beast, after all.”

  Sarah reached down and petted Smoky. Something’s wrong, isn’t it? I’ll just go a little farther, and if I don’t find the overhang, I’ll turn back no matter what the professor says.

  She proceeded with caution through a narrow band of trees. Smoky stayed behind her until they broke out into the open, then he dashed ahead and lay down in Sarah’s way.

  “What’s wrong, boy?” Sarah glanced ahead at the horizon. “Oh my word. Look at that!”

  Straight ahead, she saw mountains like none she had ever seen. Dark green trees covered their lower sections but grew scanty in number near the tops. Once the trees disappeared entirely, bare rock was exposed to the bright sun. Finally the rock itself seemed to disappear under a coating of crisp white that rose in jagged points to the blue sky.

  “It’s stunning,” Sarah exclaimed as she sank to the ground next to Smoky and panted for breath. “Oh, Smoky! I’m so glad we came. It was worth every step.”

  The dog edged closer to her and beat his tail on the stone ground where Sarah sat, contentedly petting him and staring up at the peaks. “How high have we come?” she asked as she stood and started to walk closer to the edge.

  Smoky sprang to her side and grabbed a mouthful of her skirt.

  “Okay, okay,” Sarah agreed as she reached down to pet the dog. “Don’t tear my skirt. I’ll behave.” She dropped to her knees and inched forward until she could see the tumbling creek far below her. “Wow, that water really does start up here, doesn’t it?”

  “Sarah! Stop right there. Don’t go any closer to the edge,” Dr. Wickham shouted as he approached.

  “I’m being careful,” Sarah answered. “Besides, Smoky won’t let me go any farther.”

  “Magnificent!” Bert exclaimed through her gasps for air as she struggled the last few paces toward Sarah.

  Dr. Wickham whipped his head around as he examined the landscape. “This is not the overhang.”

  “You mean we’re lost?” Bert demanded.

  “Nonsense!” He laughed nervously. “Hardly. We just veered off path a bit. We can easily retrace our steps.”

  “Not yet, we’re not. Just look at those peaks!” Bert moved toward the edge.

  “Step back,” Dr. Wickham commanded her.

  “I beg your pardon!” Bert glared at him with obvious irritation. “Kindly give me a little credit for some common sense. I’ll be quite cautious, I assure you, but I didn’t hike all this way to miss any aspect of the beauty.”

  “I merely intended to caution you that the rock grows unstable toward the edge.”

  “Do be careful, Bert,” Sarah pleaded as her friend sidled forward. “Smoky stopped me from going any farther than this.”

  “Well, I’ve never seen the day when I allowed a dog to—”

  The rock Bert stood on crumbled under her feet, and she screamed as she slid over the precipice.

  “Bert!” Sarah shouted as Smoky raced to the edge and started barking.

  “No! No, this can’t be happening.” Dr. Wickham wrung his hands as he advanced a few steps. “Fool woman! I told her not to—” He turned toward Sarah. “I did warn her. You heard me … I warned her!”

  “None of that matters now. We have to help Bert!”

  “Surely you don’t think I can— No! I can’t go near that edge. The only reasonable thing we can do is to go back and get help. She has, no doubt, tumbled to the bottom of the ravine.”

  “Oh, dear God, no!” Sarah dropped to her knees and crawled toward the edge as Smoky continued barking.

  “Come back here this minute,” Dr. Wickham shouted at her. “You will only fall over yourself.”

  Sarah looked at him over her shoulder. “We have to help her.”

  Dr. Wickham took several tentative steps farther, stretched out his arms, and softened his tone. “Come back from the edge, Miss Novak. Please … please, Sarah. I am sorry to have to say it, but Miss Caine is beyond help.”

  “You don’t know that!” Sarah screamed at him, then sobbed. “We have to get to her somehow. We have to, Augustus! I’m going to look over and see where she is.”

  He ran his hands through his hair as he shook his head. “I can’t allow you to do that. You must withdraw at once.”

  “And do what?”

  “The only reasonable thing we can do. We must go back and send someone—”

  “Leave Bert behind?” Sarah shouted. “You expect me to leave her behind?”

  “Sarah, think! It is irrational to risk two lives to save one.”

  “It’s unthinkable to abandon a friend when she is in trouble.”

  “I will not allow you to risk your own life, Sarah! Now, I cannot come out to you without putting further weight on that unstable ground you’re on— Will you stop that stupid dog’s ba
rking?”

  “Quiet, Smoky! Augustus, please. It is our moral duty to help her.”

  “Sarah, please slowly back away from the edge …”

  When Sarah defiantly shook her head, Augustus turned away.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Back down to the group as fast as I can. It’s obviously the only way to save you and to recover that woman’s body.”

  “She is not a body!”

  He turned back to her. “Use your brain, Sarah. She is most likely dead.”

  “No! I won’t believe that.” Sarah faced the edge and shouted, “Bert! Bert, can you hear me?”

  She heard only the rustling of the trees, so she fell to her knees and crawled to the edge. “Bert! Can you hear me? Bert!”

  Sarah heard a groan from far down the mountainside.

  “Bert!”

  A loader groan rose to her, and Smoky danced around and began to bark again. “She’s alive, Augustus! I hear her.” Sarah took her shawl off her shoulders and tied it around her waist, then sat on the edge.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m going down to Bert. You go back for help.”

  “You can’t possibly get down there without doing harm to yourself. I insist you come with me.”

  “I can scoot down on my backside.”

  “You will tumble head over heels.”

  “Not if I hold on to the shrubs.”

  “I demand you give up this idea of yours. It’s too risky for a woman.”

  Sarah glared over her shoulder at him. “There doesn’t seem to be a man present to take it on. Go get help, Augustus! You’re the only one who knows where we are. Go!” With Smoky following, she lifted herself with her arms and began to scoot down the cliff on her backside.

  “Stop that! Come back here this instant! What is wrong with you women anyway? Can’t a single one of you think straight?”

  “Go, Augustus!” Sarah shouted as she inched her way down the cliff, digging her heels into crevices and desperately grabbing onto the scruffy plants when her feet slipped out from under her.

  “This is insane!” she heard Augustus shout.

  “I see her,” Sarah called. “She’s all the way down. I think I can get to her. Augustus?” Holding herself in place, Sarah peered at the top of the hill. “Augustus?”