by Julie Weston
“Neither. It is a separate, iced area in a meatpacking location.”
Nellie turned to him. She didn’t know about the “morgue,” even though she had known someone who had stolen a body from it. She wrinkled her nose.
“Anyway, the man who called said it looked like the body had been beaten pretty badly, maybe with a rock or some hard instrument. He said it was hard to tell because of the animal chewing . . .” Tom looked at Nellie. “Sorry, uh, Miss Burns.”
“I am a crime photographer,” she said. “I have seen worse.” Although she hadn’t.
Tom continued, “. . . because of the animal chewing off his face. There were marks on his body, too, but he thought the man died from blunt trauma, he said.” He waited a space. “Sure looked like that to me. I figured either a coyote or a bear might’a done the chewing.” Again, he glanced at Nellie. “Sorry.”
Nellie packed up her camera gear. “Let’s go. Where are we going?”
“There’s more lava tubes not far from here—caves like we seen already. The lava cooled on top, but the hot stuff kept going underneath and left those tubes. Some caved in, but not all of ’em did.” He loosened the horse’s reins and walked south. “Follow me.”
Mayor Tom led, followed by the sheriff, with Nellie and Moonshine in the rear. Because the horse tended to pick its way, their cavalcade moved slowly, but Nellie didn’t care. That gave her time to pick her own way and also to take in the scenery. To the west she saw what looked like miniature volcanoes, but no fire or smoke emitted from them. Everywhere she saw globular shaped rocks on the ground in various sizes. Tom identified those as lava bombs—lava that had blown out of the spatter cones, the forms that were volcano shaped, but smaller.
“Just imagine what it looks like in Hawaii, where the lava still flows. You’ve seen pictures from there, haven’t you?”
“I suppose I have, but a long time ago. I never would have thought there would be anything like this in Idaho. As we motored this way, we saw huge ridges of black lava that looked impossible to walk on.”
“No one else thought that neither. The maps used to mark this area as ‘unexplored’ and ‘barren.’ ” Tom pointed to one of the cinder type formations. “Now that’s a’a.” After they crossed another slick black rock formation, he stopped and once more tied horse reins, this time to a dead, twisted tree. “Here’s some more caves. These here are lava tubes, and they can be dangerous to climb into ’cause they might ‘cave in,’ ” he said and chuckled again. “I been down these ones several times. They’re kind of spooky but seem okay. We don’t want the horse to cross on top, and probably keep the dog out for now. Follow me.” The entrance to this cave was a dark hole at the bottom of a rock slide.
The sheriff motioned for Nell to stay on top. She wanted to ignore him but decided she would rather wait where she was. Sliding into that hole didn’t appeal to her at all. She couldn’t take many photos inside anyway. She had not brought enough flash materials to waste any, and she had not liked the feeling the day before when they found the body. This one looked like a tight squeeze. Instead, she wandered on to where she could see a dark, flat plain of cinders, dotted by low, dead clumps of leaves, almost as if they had been planted in neat rows. How desolate! Why would those people come this way? Indians had been through here, but Tom had mentioned they didn’t spend a lot of time on the lava. They thought it was sacred, he said. Still, the Indian trails were noticeable, especially when the sun was overhead. They looked like white stripes along the black ground.
No sound escaped from the lava tube. As she tracked back to where both the horse and Moonie were, Moonie barked twice. She glanced around and saw two deer in a green area some distance away. Could he see that? One of them peered around to watch her but apparently decided she wasn’t a danger and lowered its head again to graze. Moonshine lost interest, too. Large birds flew overhead in a long V aimed south. As the V drew closer she could hear squawks and what sounded like voices. Geese, she surmised. Even in Chicago, she had seen skeins of geese migrating in the fall and spring. Their familiar sight and sound comforted her.
CHAPTER 4
Rosy bounced off the train. He looked as grizzled and unkempt as when he had left Ketchum in May. The spring to his gait belied the first impression. When he turned and two young boys appeared on the top step, Mrs. Bock understood. Behind them, a bony woman appeared, dressed as if she came from the last century with a face-framing bonnet, a long hemmed gray dress, and gloves, a small purse in one hand and a weighted satchel in the other. She looked like a cloudy day.
Uh-oh, Mrs. Bock thought. What has Rosy done now? Surely, he didn’t get married again.
“Well now, Goldie. Here we are!” He helped the young ones down as she walked up.
“Matt and Campbell, do you remember me?” She knelt. “No, Campbell, you were too young, weren’t you?”
Matt, the older boy, whispered, “I do, Auntie Bock.”
“Why so you do, Matt, even to naming me.” She opened her arms, but he didn’t come closer. Instead, he glanced back at the gray woman.
“This here’s Esther, my sister, from Chicago. She took care of the boys while I was . . . gone.”
Mrs. Bock stood and gave a slight curtsy. “How do you do, Mrs.—”
“I’m not a Mrs.,” the woman said. “My last name is Kipling like my brother here.” She lunged off the last step. “Shake hands with Mrs. Bock, boys. You know to be polite to your elders. Just don’t talk to strangers.”
Each boy stuck out his hand. Mrs. Bock wanted to grab them up in her arms and hold them but did not. She could see the resemblance between brother and sister and decided brother was much the handsomer of the two, even with his bad eye, the result of a mine accident. Her hand made up two of one of the boy’s hands. They both looked as if they needed hugs with their uncertainty evident in their hesitant steps and almost unwillingness to leave the other woman’s side.
Rosy gave Mrs. Bock a huge hug, and she felt vindicated. “We all missed you, Goldie. Sorry I didn’t give you much warning, but we had to sell my sister’s house before we came West again.”
That meant the tall woman would be staying. Mrs. Bock tried to smile. “Welcome, Miss Kipling. I’m sure you will love the West.”
“I doubt it. But what choice did I have? Those boys need a woman to look after them, and we all know Ross’s weaknesses.”
Mrs. Bock straightened her shoulders. “Come, boys, I made a peach pie for you.” She grabbed one hand each and began to walk away.
“They don’t get sweets except after church on Sunday.”
“Well, they get a piece of pie today because it is as special as a Sunday is,” Mrs. Bock said. “Rosy, you, too. If Miss Kipling doesn’t want pie, she can have . . . coffee.”
“Boys, you go with Goldie. Esther and I’ll get our luggage. Goldie’s pies are the best in the valley—and lots better than any in Chicago.” Rosy waved after them.
Miss Kipling huffed. “Don’t you let her undermine everything I taught them, Brother. Or I’ll go back to Chicago.”
Mrs. Bock heard the last statement and smiled.
CHAPTER 5
Nellie carried her camera and tripod and walked, gazing at the scenery, studying possible photos, either up close or far away. The sky was blue and cloudless, which did not make for interesting photography. On the other hand, she would not wish for clouds. Being stuck out in rain, or possibly even snow, held no attraction. She came to a round, deep depression in a rocky area. It was open to the air but looked as if it might lead to a cave or “tube” of some sort. She set up the tripod with the camera and then pulled Moonie over to the lip of the depression. It wasn’t all that deep, so she sat on the edge and jumped in, stumbling forward as she landed. It was deeper than it looked. Moonshine had no choice but to jump down, too. The leather shields on his feet protected them from the rocky surface.
Along the floor of the depression, she found dried grasses and wildflower seed heads. As she neared what had
appeared to be the opening of a cave, she almost stumbled over a skeleton with half the bones scattered in the amber colored grass. “Oh!” Moonshine nosed a few of the bones but did not pick up any. “I think it’s an animal of some sort,” Nellie said. “These bones are so dried, they must have been here a long time.” Her habit of talking to Moonshine suited them both, she thought. The dog looked at her. “Look, horns.” Nellie knelt in the grass to touch the thick, almost rock-like curls. “This must be a big horn sheep. I’ve never seen one before.” She glanced around. “I wonder why it’s here.”
Moonie pulled on the leash, moving toward the opening. He growled low but kept moving, and, this time, Nellie followed him. “Maybe it’s a bear’s cave,” Nellie whispered to him. “I don’t think we should go in.”
Part of the opening was in shadows, but sunlight lit the upper portion. Nellie tried to climb one side, but it was too steep and the lava rock there was slick with no foothold. Even Moonshine couldn’t get a purchase. Then it hit her. Maybe the sheep was in this depression because it couldn’t get out. This time, she looked around and studied the sides of what might have been a crater in times past. If a big horn sheep couldn’t climb out, neither could she. No one knew where she was.
“Charlie,” she called. “Tom.” Silence as overpowering as the white sun above met her efforts. Her voice probably didn’t extend up and was crushed by the walls around her. She had even left her canteen next to her camera. Ah! Surely, someone would see that and wonder where she was. She moved over to the shady side of the opening and sat on a boulder almost as big as she was. Maybe she could push it to the edge and climb out on it. No, too far. And way too heavy. The lack of water made her aware of her dire thirst. Moonshine nosed into the cave opening, sniffing. He growled again and the hackles on the back of his head rose.
Necessity is the mother of something, Nellie thought. She pulled on Moonshine’s leash and hurried back to where they had jumped down. “Let’s pile up rocks. We can get out that way.” She looked around to find rocks she could lift. “Stay,” she ordered Moonie, unclipping his leash. Back and forth, she hurried, each time carrying a heavy rock and keeping an eye on the cave opening. If a wild animal came out, she could try to protect herself with the rock in her arms.
Before long, she had built up a scramble of stones. “Okay, Moonie, you go up.” He climbed but stopped to look back at her. “I’m coming,” she said and began making the climb, using her hands to hold herself steady. “I think.” All the rocks shifted. She stopped and held herself still until they steadied. She could reach the top but couldn’t quite get the leverage to pull herself up. Slowly, she stepped backwards until she reached the floor of the crater. More rocks. Moonshine barked, and his muzzle pointed toward her. “I can’t, Moonie. I need more rocks!”
This time, she not only carried one rock at a time but had to climb her pyramid-like structure to place it on top of the others. If one slid, the others would tumble down, probably with her in the middle. Moonshine jumped up over the edge and lay down with his nose toward her. One, two, three, four. The last didn’t look stable, so she decided to try again before adding another. This time, she came up to her chest on the edge. To pull herself out, she had to bounce the bulk of her weight up and over. As she did just that, she felt the rocks give way, but, this time, her arms held her, and she swung one leg over the top. Grunting, Nell managed to swing her whole body up. She lay prostrate, breathing hard and sweating. Moonshine licked her face. She crawled to her knees and looked down. Most of the rocks had tumbled back to the bottom.
Her camera was where she left it, of course. Now, which way back? Perspiration still dripped on her face and down her back. She opened the canteen, which was lighter than she remembered, and then she noticed a puddle of water. Oh no! It leaked. “Here, Moonie. You drink.”
Only piles of sharp cinders offered a place to sit down, so she sat on the ground. A breeze blew, chilling her as her sweat—no, horses sweat, men perspire, and women glow, her mother had often reminded her—evaporated. The sun was so high, she couldn’t tell which direction might be north. And, Charlie had the compass. As Nellie looked around, trying to see which direction she might have come from, looking for a familiar boulder, dead tree, or pile of rocks, a movement in the corner of her eye drew her glance back to the depression. Two small critters, about as big as rats in Chicago, but furry and light brown with large ears, crept out of the opening. They squeaked to each other. Moonshine barked, and they skidded back to the dark.
Nellie laughed. “You saved me, Moonshine!” She hugged her dog. “Here, sit by me, and let’s just wait a while. Maybe the two explorers will show up.” Moonshine curled around and put his head on her lap. His nose showed less of the effects of the quills. He slept. Nell was aware of a few bird chirps but saw none. They must nest in a sagebrush patch nearby. Something skittered on the ground but disappeared before she could find the source—maybe a lizard. The silence enveloped her. She wished she had binoculars, so she could see farther than just her surroundings. A drink of water would be nice. So would an apple. Or a slab of ham on one of Goldie’s bread slices. Her mouth watered. A few late fall insects buzzed, and she felt her eyes close.
In a dream, Nell heard bird songs. Moonie’s head lifted under her hand.
“Nell!”
“Miss Burns!”
She stood up and saw two figures approaching from a direction she had not even considered following. Before long, Mayor Tom and Sheriff Azgo met up with her. “Are you all right?” the sheriff asked. He looked into the depression, the crater, as Nell had decided to call it.
“Yes.” No reason to go into her lame-brain adventure.
“We thought you were lost,” Tom said. “Guess you were!”
“I wasn’t sure which way to go back to the cave,” Nell admitted. “I’m glad you came this way. What did you see in the lava tube?”
“Looked like someone stayed there for a bit,” Tom said. “We couldn’t tell if it was an animal’s den or there were people. Could we?” He turned to the sheriff, who had wandered around the side of the crater.
“How did you get in there?”
“We jumped. Moonshine came with me. It looked as if there was a cave down that way.” She pointed to the other end. “There was, and Moonshine growled, so it seemed better not to explore on our own. Turns out, it was two little furry animals. They looked like small rabbits, but not quite.”
“Pikas.” Mayor Tom shrugged his shoulders. “They’s all over the place. About the size of a packrat.”
“How did you get out?” The sheriff persisted.
“Climbed.” Nell busied herself with packing up her camera. “I’m thirsty. Do you have any water left? My canteen leaked.”
The sheriff shook his head but offered his canteen. “Please do not explore on your own again. We cannot spend time searching for you as well as for what might be lost tourers.” He turned to the mayor. “Are there any more lava tubes in this area? We could search another hour or so, and then I need to return to Hailey. First, I want to stop in Arco and see if we could round up a group who knows the area to look again and in places we have not.”
“I could stay and search with a crew,” Nell said. “I don’t have anything pressing in Ketchum.” Then she remembered Rosy. “Or else I can come back with you. There are some people I would like to see.”
Mayor Tom led them to another cave area, not far removed from where Nellie had dropped down into the crater and explored on her own. This one had a rock slide leading down to the entrance, too. The sheriff motioned Nellie to join them and suggested she leave her camera outside. Moonie kept pace with her, as they stepped on and over the rock pile. At the bottom, they discovered there were two tunnels, one going to the right and the second to the left. The right one looked more accessible.
“That left one is pretty much plugged in a ways, is my memory,” Mayor Tom said. “This one keeps goin’ for a long ways. Both of ’em have ice inside, leastways part of the
year.” As they moved toward the overhanging lava edge of the right one, they slowed. This tube area also appeared plugged with falling rocks and slabs, as if a giant had shaken it all up in a tumbler. Some of the jumble grabbed at her boots, and others were slick rock. Here and there bright yellow lichen shone against the black background. Even a few wisps of faded tall grasses waved in the afternoon breeze.
Once again, Nellie stirred herself to be brave and follow the men into the dark. Their flashlights looked like small spotlights. This time, the sheriff stayed in the lead and also scrambled along one edge. Nellie felt the roof of the tube pressing on them, worried that the giant might try another shake or two. She slipped and fell to one knee. The sheriff stopped until she pulled herself upright. “I’m all right.” They moved deeper into the maw, which opened into a larger tunnel.
Even Mayor Tom stopped chattering. He stayed right behind the sheriff. Nell wondered if he felt a little nervous, too. Nell couldn’t remember when she had been in such a spooky, black place. A ghost could fly out, and she would expire from fright. Moonie, beside her, was as invisible as the way ahead. “Who would go in here voluntarily?” she asked. No one answered.
The sheriff paused, turned, and placed a finger on his lips. He turned off his flashlight. Tom did the same. A Stygian black surrounded them, and Nellie felt as if she might suffocate as the darkness wrapped around her like a veil being pulled tighter. Then she heard what Charlie must have heard—a steady drip, drip, drip. It was such a strange sound in this driest of all deserts, that she almost exclaimed. She felt rather than saw Moonshine leave her side. She heard his progress along the slick rock toward where she thought the sheriff stood. But when he said, “Stay,” in a low voice, the sound came from yards farther in. Again, drip, drip, drip.
“That’s just a stalag . . . static . . . you know, one of them icicles.” Tom’s voice jumped at her like a carnival barker. He stood right next to her, much closer than when they had all stopped. He turned on his flashlight. It felt as if the sun had risen in the cave, it was so bright.