7 November 2012

Einar did not want the root and he didn’t want Juni’s berberine water, either, such seeming a concession he wasn’t entirely willing to make, but with both of them insisting so and he once again beginning to grow dizzy and uncertain with fever, he figured he’d have little choice.  Might as well go along with their suggestions, while he was still conscious and aware enough to be making choices.  Maybe the stuff would really help, and if it would, taking it did seem the only really right thing to do, despite his reluctance.  Couldn’t afford to go on losing touch with things as he had been since the start of the fever, not down by the river where danger was never far away and a confrontation with other humans a distinct if distant possibility.  Liz being by far the more insistent of the two and her opinions holding a good deal more weight with him, he started on the root, washing down its acrid bitterness with an only slightly less bitter swig from Juni’s bottle.  Good.  Nausea replacing dizziness, his notice of the fever put on hold if not its actual course altered while he struggled to keep the searing liquid in his stomach, succeeded, struggling to his feet with a grin.

“You two sure can cook.  Whew!  Don’t remember when I’ve ever had a tastier meal.  Got any willow bark for dessert?”

“Willow bark.  That’s not a bad idea at all.  It ought to help the fever come down even more, and I can stir in some honey to make it more like dessert, if you like…  But we’ll have to wait until tonight when we have a fire so I can simmer the water for a bit.  This will just have to do, for right now.”

“This is plenty.  Don’t know if it’s…done anything for the fever yet, probably take a while to start doing that, but it sure did get my attention!  Done with all that nonsense now.  Ready to get back to work.”

Which he was, most sincerely and thoroughly, mind perhaps a bit more ready than body, though, and he swayed some with his first step, went to his knees on the second and then was back on his feet, making for the tree on which they had hung their drying hides.  Time to start the tanning process, and though it might have been easier to do the job later up at the cabin, life was a very uncertain thing and he figured Liz and little Will might as well at least have warm new hats to wear on their long walk into exile, if it came to that.  Bear fat.  Would have been useful when it came to tanning, saved him the trouble of retrieving all the beaver and muskrat brains for the project, but they hadn’t thought to bring a stock of bear fat, so he  went to the carcass pile and began his work.  Muninn took particular interest in Einar’s project, hovering close overhead, balancing on a nearby boulder and finally hopping down and generally making a pest out of himself in the hopes of handouts.

“You want snacks, do you?  Well, you big old vulture, how about this: I’ll feed you as much as you want, just so long as you’re willing to help me tan and stretch these furs.  Deal?  No?  Well, probably for the best.  You start stretching things, and we’re likely as not to end up with fur all over the ground and not very much left on the hides.  That what you want?  Bunch of fur on the ground so you can build yourself a big, cozy nest where you can hunker down for the rest of the winter?  Probably not, come to think of it.  You’ve already got the cabin…”

Juni, who had been watching the conversation with a good deal of interest, hoping to see how Einar went about tanning the hides of small animals but in the end finding the exchange fascinating for another reason entirely, turned to Liz.

“He finds it a lot easier to talk to the raven than he does to people, doesn’t he?”

“Sometimes.  A lot of times.  Muninn is good company for him.”

“Maybe you need to get a dog!”

“Dog?  More like a fox, out here.  Or a coyote, I guess.  If we could find a den, take a pup and tame it.  I guess they’d probably get along just fine, Einar and the coyote…except that they’d end up arguing half the time over who got which meat scraps and bits of liver and lung and sinew, and such.  It might make for some pretty spectacular arguments, but otherwise, they’d be pretty well suited to one another.  A wolverine would probably work, too.  Some vicious arguments at first, but then they’d probably realize the extent of their common ground, and things would settle down some.”

“Hey, I can hear you,” Einar growled from his work area over beneath a dense cluster of spruces, where he had begun working to extract as many brains as possible from the skulls of their catches.  “What’s all this about me being half coyote, half wolverine and twice as ugly as either?”

“I never said a thing about your actually being related to the critters,” Liz retorted, “nor about your being ugly.  It was all about the personality…”

“Oh.  Well in that case…hey, that’s even worse!  Isn’t it?  Maybe not.  Maybe I should learn to take a compliment where I can get it, huh?”

“Yeah, you’d better!  Now how about some more of this berberine stuff, while you’re taking a break from your tanning?  Just a swallow or two, to keep things moving in the right direction.”

Einar didn’t particularly want the stuff, stomach still tied in knots from the first dose, but Liz was, as usual, proving quite insistent and somehow the fact that the stuff was so scaldingly hard to swallow seemed to be making it a bit easier for him to want to do it, seemed to make up, in some small way, for the concession he was making in allowing himself to have the stuff, and he drank.

6 November 2012

Einar still wanted to visit the river, wanted it so badly that Liz was having a difficult time talking him out of it and she knew that there must be something more than the typical stubbornness behind the strength of his desire, the almost pleading look in his overly bright eyes as he tried unsuccessfully to convince her it was the only way.  The fever had returned in full force and was clearly scaring him some, despite his efforts to conceal the fact, and this realization frightened Liz, as she knew it took an awful lot, especially of the physical variety, to scare Einar.  She wanted him to lie down but h would not, would not sit, even, insisted on remaining upright though it was taking all his strength and the assistance of two nearby trees to keep him that way, and it seemed to Liz he must be doing so out of concern that he might find himself entirely unable to regain his feet if he allowed himself to go down, just then.  A legitimate worry, she had to admit, and after a bit of initial coaxing she gave up the effort, focused on bringing the fever down by some means short of full submersion in the icy river.  The ultimate solution had to involve cleaning and bandaging the wounds on his back and hopefully also getting some strong berberine solution into him, but for the moment nothing could be more urgent than simply bringing down his temperature.  A hurried trip to the river, hoping almost desperately that he wouldn’t follow, and she returned with two bottles full of water, pouring them one by one over his head and down his back, Einar clinging to his swaying spruce tree braces, closing his eyes and smiling in apparent delight as the steam rose from him, better, but he needed more.

“Water’s good.  Doing the job.  Time for the river now.  Need to stick my head in there under the ice and watch the fish for a while…”

“No.  Stay.  I’ll get you more water, as much as you want, but you need to stay here with us.  Can I go get another bottle of water for you, and we’ll do this again?”

He had already found another solution though, releasing his hold on the trees and rolling to his knees in the snow, where he stretched out full length in a section which had been protected by the overhanging timber from too much exposure to the sun, and remained somewhat powdery.  Sinking deep in the snow, which stuck quite readily as he was wet from the applications of river water, he lay there sweeping his arms in a most deliberate manner until he was quite thoroughly covered in snow.  Liz left him for a good two or three minutes as the steam stopped rising and his eyes began looking a bit more normal, teeth rattling and lips going purple in clear evidence that his strategy was working, at which point, unable to stand seeing him that way anymore, she raised him up out of the snow and into a sitting position.

“Better?”

He grinned.  “Yeah, better.”

“Ok, that’s a good thing.  Now let’s work on fixing the problem so this can stop happening.  I’ve got a bunch more Oregon grape root back up at the cabin, but between what you were carrying and what I had in my pack, we’ve got a good start here.  I need you to chew this piece here…I know it’s bitter, but you can handle it…and while you do that I’m going to work on getting some water warm enough to make up a little of the solution to put on your back.  And we need to get you out of this snow, too.  I know it probably feels good, but it just doesn’t take long at all for you to start freezing right now, and I don’t want you to lose any fingers or toes over this.  Here, on your feet and onto the bear hide, and I’ll help with your parka…”

Einar went, took the bit of root she was handing him and held it between numbed fingers, turning, studying it and generally doing everything but chew it as Liz had suggested, so that she had to stop and remind him, easing it from clenched fingers and holding it up for him to see.

“Better get started chewing this.”

“Don’t know that it’s right.”

“Oh, it’s bound to be better than nothing.  You’re feeling a little better now, but you can’t just spend all your time lying in the snow to keep the fever down.  This is part of the solution, we can hope.”

“I know.  Meant…don’t know if it’s right to do anything about it.  Infection.  Could be I’ve just got to get through it, or not, best I’m able.  Kinda earned it, you know?”

“No, I don’t.  That doesn’t make sense.  How did you earn it?”

Didn’t want to talk about it, knew she would surely be disappointed to discover his mind still on such things but he could feel the fever nudging its way in again, making his head swim and knew any explanation he might give later would have to make even less logical sense; might as well give it a go.

“Earned it because I wasn’t able to get him out of there.  Should have been able to do it.  Can see that now.”

“Weren’t able to…you mean Andy?”

A nod.

She really didn’t have any answer for that, not without a bit of thought and there was no time for thought just then; it was time for action, and she pressed the bit of root into his hand, her tone firm and insistent.  “Chew this, and I’ll take care of your back in a minute.”

Just then Juni walked into camp, the bottle of water she’d been warming beneath her coat beginning to show a faint yellow color as the freshly broken roots started releasing their medicinal qualities, and stirring up its contents with a good shake, she handed it to Liz.

5 November 2012

“Look at his back,” Juni interjected.  “It was dark last night. You may have missed something.”

Liz gave her a skeptical sideways glance, not sure what should prompt her to say such a thing, but wanting very badly to discover and remedy whatever was happening with Einar, she did check.  He did need dry clothes anyway after having all that water poured over him, and as she helped him into a dry shirt, the source of his trouble became obvious.  The entire lower portion of his spine was raw, red, skin rubbed away so that he was nearly bleeding in some places and definitely inflamed to a degree which might be expected to bring on a fever.  Liz wanted to get after him for it--for not telling her, at least--but refrained, knowing that likely as not, he wasn’t even fully aware of the problem, himself.  He seemed to have adapted to a pretty high level of discomfort over the past months, seldom even acknowledging things which fell inside its somewhat flexible and apparently ever-expanding parameters.  Which surely made daily life somewhat easier for him, but also tended to lead to troubles which might otherwise have otherwise been preventable.

“What happened here?  You do this last night?”

“What?”

“Your back.  Backbone is practically sticking through in a few places.  That’s not normal, you know…”

“For me it can be.  Happened before.  Not that unusual.”

“Oh, I know.  I’ve seen.  But it’s still not normal, and I do think it’s the cause of your trouble right now, and I’d like to try and fix it for you.  Ok?”

“Yeah.  Need berberine.  Boil up some Oregon grape roots and get a good strong yellow batch of berberine.  Should have a little root section here in the pouch I carry…”  with which he struggled to loosen the small leather pouch which was always around his neck, fumbling unsuccessfully with hands grown strange and clumsy, and when finally he managed, it was only to drop the precious root section into the spruce needles where it might have been lost, had not Liz seen, and hurried to retrieve it.

“Yes, this is a good start, and I’ve got some more in my pack.  It’s been so useful to us that I try to always have some along, especially when there’s any chance that someone might end up with frostbit…  But it’s so good for all sorts of injuries.  I’d better get a fire going, and we’ll simmer some up.”

Einar shook his head.  “Back’s not so bad.  Fire can wait.  Don’t want to risk having us seen.”

“Yes, it is ‘so bad,’ I’m afraid, and I don’t like to think what may happen if we wait until dark to start doing something about it.  Your body is trying as hard as it’s able to fight this thing, but what if the fever isn’t enough?  Sometimes, it isn’t enough, and I don’t want you getting any sicker.  You’ve got hides to stretch, remember?  Work to do.”

A faint smile from Einar, “work will get done either way, don’t worry.”

“I’m trying not to worry, but your attitude about this is scaring me some.”  Scaring her quit a bit, actually.  Though glad to see the apparent change in him wrought by the events of the past night, shadow lifted significantly, eating no longer such a difficult proposition and his outlook on life generally a good deal more hopeful-seeming, she could not help but be concerned by the fact that he seemed not in the least aware of the precariousness of his current physical situation.  Had to try and let him know, somehow.  “This is serious.  You know how serious infections can be, and as worn out as you’ve been lately…  Well, we need to take care of it.”

He was indeed tired, fever making another stand and the world shrinking around him, receding, darkness rising in great billows and bulges.  No way he could match her logic, mount a successful argument; all he could really do was to stand his ground.  “Sure.  When it gets dark.  No fire until it gets dark.”

“Alright, we’ll wait on the fire, but I don’t think we have to wait quite that long on the berberine.  Didn’t you show me once how to make the solution without need of a fire, by just breaking up the roots and setting them in water in the sun?”

“Berberine sun tea…yeah, works, we’ve done it a time or two but…probably gonna be awful slow to work unless the water is at least warm.  Which it won’t be on a day like this, even in the sun.  I’m fine.  Just need some time in the river to clean things up and let the…you know, if I can get myself cold enough it ought to kill off…whatever bacteria and all are in there causing this thing.  Those critters can only live within a few degrees’ tolerance, and if conditions stop being favorable…  So the river’s the same principle as the fever, only using cold instead of hot.  Just got to get yourself cold enough.”

“Get yourself that cold and your heart will stop, you big goof!  I think the berberine is a much better idea.”

“Not nearly as much fun, though…”

“I ought to take the rabbit stick to you head!  You are absolutely impossible!”

“Thanks.”

All the while the two of them had been conversing Juni had been busy, herself, filling her water bottle and tucking it inside her coat to begin warming, hoping the degrees added to the water might be enough to make a difference.  Oregon grape.  That was the plant the bright yellow roots were taken from, and though she had never experimented with its roots for medicinal purposes, she did know the plant and had eaten its tart purple berries in the fall.  Not so easy to find beneath the snow, she supposed, being a low, creeping thing at that elevation, but taking quiet leave of the camp where Einar and Liz went on discussing cold water, bacteria and the wisdom of using one in an attempt to do away with the other, she began her search.  Kicking through the crusty layer of snow at the base of one spruce after another she hunted for the familiar, holly-shaped leaves, finding nothing at first but then, up near the cliffs where conditions were apparently more favorable, she spotted a few spiky reddish leaves through the snow.  Wrong color, but she was pretty sure there was only one plant with such leaves in the area, and when after much digging and scraping at the frozen soil she was able to free a short section of bright yellow, bitter-scented root, she was certain.  The red color, she supposed, must be a function of the lack of daylight down there beneath the snow.  Though an evergreen, the plant still reacted to the cold and dark, and now that she was sure she had the right thing Juni redoubled her efforts, chipping and hacking at the cold earth with a pointy chunk of granite until she’d freed nearly eight inches of root and stowed it in her pocket.  Enough, surely, and she returned to camp, where Liz and Einar appeared engaged in a serious discussion of some sort or another.

4 November 2012

Their skinning work done for the day everyone took a break before fleshing and stretching the hides to partake of the freshly sliced liver Liz prepared, she herself still a bit reluctant to indulge in such fare with thoughts of Giardia--and its potential, if temporary consequences for her ability to adequately feed Will--fresh on her mind, but Juni had no such reservations, and enjoyed several slices of the stuff along with Einar.  He, of course, body still being somewhat unused to food and wanting to shut down and work to repair itself whenever encountering the stuff, became immediately and immensely sleepy after the snack, eyes drifting closed and head drooping as he crouched against a spruce, fighting hard to stay awake but half inclined to give up and curl himself into a little heat-conserving ball in the spruce needles, instead.

Liz, knowing how badly he must still need to catch up on rest after his long night fleeing across the river and up the hill, was all for the idea, prepared to drape the bear hide over him and let him lie, but things never quite got to that point.  Somewhere there in the shadows between sleep and wakefulness Einar heard through the silence that was stealing up around him the muted gurgle of water under ice, voice of the winter-locked river, and in hearing it he was reminded somehow of the previous night, his desperate journey across that water and the disaster which had awaited him beyond its icy grip, bitterness, loss, and the irreversible sorrow of being unable to go back and right a wrong once done.  Finished.  No way back.  Only, he had reversed it, they had escaped together and he’d carried Andy on his back through the swamp and up the hill beyond, desperate flight with the enemy close behind, had done it, would do it again and though he knew now, eyes wide open and sleep far from him, that it had been unreality, all of it, the doing of the thing had seemed to loosen, at least for a time, the grip those memories had on him.

Well.  A good thing he supposed, that distance, for he had a lot of work to do and could hardly afford to be losing too many more hours, days to the remembering of the thing.  Not just then.  Had to finish with the trapping, decide what to do about Juni and, in all likelihood, move his family and all his earthly possessions out of the cabin and to some new, safer location, all within the next week or so.  Busy time, but he was ready for it, shook himself free of the sleep which had been trying to claim him and scrambled to his feet, arms spread wide and braced against opposing trees to prevent a sudden bout of dizziness from laying claim to him.  What’s this?  Never mind what it is.  Doesn’t matter.  Can’t have me.  Got a job to finish.

But it wouldn’t leave him alone and then Liz was beside him, steadying hand on his shoulder as the world went wobbly around him--goofy world, why can’t you hold still for a while?  Pretty rough for a fella to get his balance with you flowing and shimmering and distorting all around him like this, don’t you think?--and then, lowering him to the ground against his silent protests, cool hands on his face, which seemed suddenly to have gone all hot and dry and strange.  Didn’t make too much sense, any of it, and though he was as usual of late shaking with cold, all he could think about was the river, and his need to submerge himself in the chortling, gurgling iciness of its black waters.  Seemed his only hope.

Water.  Liz was offering him water, and he drank, spilling most of it but not caring, for its frigid shock felt good against his skin, and then he was crawling, his only really reliable means of transport, it seemed, and he absolutely had to reach that river.

Liz.  She has hold of him, wouldn’t let go.  “Hold on there, where do you think you’re going?  Remember, we have hides to stretch.”  Which they certainly did, knew she was telling the truth so he stopped struggling and allowed her to pour the entire contents of her water bottle over his head and face, giving her a grateful smile at the relief this brought him even as his trembling increased so that he could barely seem to get his breath.  “Thanks.  Water’s…real good but the river’d be even …”

“Well, you’ve got a fever.  Pretty bad one I’d say, but you sure didn’t have it in the night, because I was the one having to keep you warm all night, as I remember.  Not the other way around.   Is that where you were headed?  The river?”

“Yeah, need to…”

“No, you don’t.  You’ll be fine right here.  I’ll bring you more water if you need more, but the last thing you need right now is to be fully submerged in that ice water and likely as not losing your footing and getting dragged down under the ice, too.  Now, what’s going on with you?  When did this trouble start?”

“Don’t…not the liver.  Can’t blame the liver.  Doesn’t happen that fast.”

“Oh, I know it’s not from the liver, whatever it is.  It’s not Giardia, at all, I wouldn’t say.  So what’s happened?  Do you have some sort of infection I don’t know about, something that could be causing this?  Or did you finally just end up so worn out that your body is looking around for ways to make you slow down, and settled on this one?  That wouldn’t really surprise me…”

He laughed, the sound a bit wild and strange, but definitely his own laugh.  “Not slowing down for anything.  Got hides to stretch, said so…yourself.  Just need…more water, wet clothes so they can freeze on me for a while and…be just fine.”

“You certainly have a strange definition of ‘just fine,’ but we already knew that!  Now hold still and let me take a look at you.  What all did you tear up last night trying to get out of those cliffs and then across the river?  Your hands, I know, but they really don’t look infected.  Come on, we’ve got to figure this out because you’re not going to be any good at stretching the hides until we can get the fever to come down.”

“Sit in river.  I’ll just…sit in the water and do it…no problem!”

“Big problem!  Not going to happen that way at all.  And besides, the stretching hoops would probably float away under the ice and be lost.”

True.  He couldn’t deny that, and certainly they didn’t need to be losing those hoops, so he supposed working in the river wasn’t actually a very good option at all, and besides, Liz seemed intent on solving the problem, figuring out its source and doing something about it.  Wise, probably, but quite honestly he had no idea what the trouble might be, or where might lie its cause.  Figured it’d all go away soon enough, given time and cold water.  Liz, though, had other ideas, and Juni, agreeing with her on this particular matter, had a theory of her own.

3 November 2012

No chapter tonight, back with another tomorrow.

Thank you all for reading, and hope you're having a productive weekend.  :)

2 November 2012

Quiet in the camp as Einar very deliberately finished case skinning the beaver he had been working on, carefully turning the hide inside out as he worked and taking special precautions around the head area.  Though he would ultimately open the pelt up and lash it down flat on the round willow stretchers they had been using, he found it a good bit easier to flesh the hide if left intact during skinning, as this allowed him to slip it over the fleshing board like a sock.  Good, thick fur still, and the stuff ought to make some fine warm clothes for Liz and the little one for that coming winter.  Wherever they would be, then.  Wandering, likely, driven from their home by circumstance and traveling the hills in search of another place where they might be safe, settle down, spend a winter; it never ended.  Which brought him to the matter of Juni.  Why she had to bring up the question of her fate just then when everything was for once going so smoothly between the three of them he did not know for sure, but figured her natural curiosity simply wouldn’t let her rest with such a question unanswered, yet to be settled.  Was not himself entirely sure of the answer.  They would let her live, leave; he and Liz had settled that much between them, but they had not discussed a timeline.  Had brought her up to the cabin and given her leave to remain with them for a time in the hopes of buying a bit of time with which to get themselves better situated for leaving the basin, remaining meat dried, possessions cached and some of the high snow beginning to melt, and then--nothing particularly to do with Juni’s presence; it had simply been time--things had got awfully weird for him, and he’d lost his focus on most everything other than simply making it through one day and to the next.

That’s got to change in a real hurry.  We need a plan, here.  Priorities as far as what we’ve got to get done before she leaves, and a strategy for parting ways, too.  Have to find someplace to leave her, Liz and the little one and I just disappear in the night one time in an area where it’d be all but impossible for her to track us, hope she doesn’t know the way back up to the cabin from wherever that ends up being, so we’ll have a couple days to clear out before we have to start worrying about her either trying to tail us again or getting back to town and telling somebody what she’s seen, and where…  Which I really don’t think she’ll be doing, but a fella can’t be too careful.  

There was another option, Einar knew, one he had not seriously considered in the past but there it was before him so he gave it a bit of thought.  She could stay.  Either of her own free will at their invitation or, if she seemed unlikely to accept such, at their insistence, on a temporary basis until the snow was gone and they were better set to take their leave of the basin or, if things worked out well, for as long as she wanted.  She would, he knew, almost certainly accept such an invitation.  Seemed in no hurry at all to return to civilization--reasonable enough, he had to admit, as she was apparently quite intent on mastering the intricacies of the various skills which had made possible life in the wilds in times past, and how better to acquire these than by living them every day?--and would likely jump at the chance to extend her learning experience.   He would not have even considered such a solution previously, had, in fact, been quite resentful of her presence and intent on parting ways as soon as safely possible until…well, until last night, that’s when.  

He shivered at the memory of the night, strangeness and distance of the scene played out amongst cliffs, river and on the hill opposite their camp seeking once more to get its claws into him but he just gave a lopsided smile, scrubbed a sleeve across his eyes and went back to his work.  No reason to look too closely at those things.  He had critters to skin.  As for Juni, the decision did not have to be made just then.  They could give it a day or two, discuss it, he and Liz, and see what they could come up with.  Allowing her to stay indefinitely would almost certainly be a big mistake.  Even though she and Liz did for some unknown reason appear to be getting on a good deal better that morning than he had seen them do in the past…well, two full grown human critters plus the little one were plenty, so far as he was concerned--too many, some days, as there were times when he was hardly fit company for himself, let alone others--and the thought of adding a third adult on a permanent basis made his head hurt.  Too much potential for trouble, and though in the long run perhaps the statistical likelihood of success for their little tribe would be increased by adding another competent adult member, he figured they’d just have to do their best with what they had.  Besides, they weren’t simply trying to make a go at living life as a primitive mountain tribe.  They had, for any chance of long-term success, to do so without being discovered by the outside world, and the more people in their group leaving footprints and tearing up the countryside with their passage the greater the chance of eventual detection--and destruction.  Juni had to go.  Too risky any other way.  The particulars he and Liz could work out at some later time.

While Einar had been musing on the future Liz had taken a brief break from skinning muskrats, cleaned her hands and eased Will onto her back for a rest from his adventures crawling about the camp.  This had freed Juni from the duty of keeping an eye on the little fellow and allowed her, also, to take part in the skinning, and with Liz’s guidance she had soon done one muskrat and started on another, the entire project all but done.  They would now have to flesh out the hides and stretch them on the rings they’d brought along and others which they could build if necessary, and that would be it for the day.  A good day’s work, and no reason to think they might not harvest an equal number of hides the following morning.  Only a few more days of that, and they’d be ready to head back to the cabin confident that they had taken full advantage of the remaining weeks of cool weather and good fur, and put aside what was for a non-commercial trapper a fair quantity of hides.  And you’re definitely a non-commercial trapper these days, aren’t you?  Just need enough for your own family, that’s it.  Not opposed to a little trading now and then and it served me well all those years up at my cabin, the first one, when I was still living down on the edge of civilization and able to visit it now and then, good to have a little cash now and then under such circumstances, but really, this is best.  Working for a living, in its most literal sense.  Keeps a fella steady, his eyes on the real important things in life.  Or ought to.

1 November 2012

On the trapline that morning Einar was pleased to find three beaver, two muskrat and in one of his deadfall sets a pine marten, confirmation that they were not wasting their time there by the river, the mission worth continuing for a few more days.  Not wanting to leave sign all along the riverbank for anyone who might happen along to see, Einar insisted that this time they carry their catch whole back to camp, and deal with it there.  Snares reset and one new deadfall cubby added near the river in the hopes of taking another marten, they returned to the sheltered spot beside the cliffs, where Liz helped him skin out the morning’s take.  Juni, carefully observing and hoping to be allowed a try at one of the muskrats, at least, kept a close eye on Will, who crawled happily from Einar to Liz as they worked, observing, Juni only narrowly preventing him from creeping right into the gut pile and snacking, as he appeared anxious to do.  Einar saw and laughed, wiped bloodied hands on his pants and scooped the little guy up in one swift movement which elicited from him a startled squawk.

“You want to try some of that stuff, do you?  Starting to realize there’s a wider world out there beyond those milkshakes you’re getting ten or twenty times a day, and some of it looks pretty edible?  Well, it is, and if your mama doesn’t object too strongly, I guess you could try a little taste of liver in a minute here.  What do you think?”

Will laughed and Liz shook her head.  “How about waiting?  Raw deer or elk liver is one thing, but do you really think it would be a good idea to give him raw muskrat or beaver liver, with the possibility of Giardia, and all…?  I’d rather not.”

“You don’t get Giardia by eating muskrat liver.  Just from drinking water the critters have been living in.  It’s not in the meat, it’s in the intestinal tract and then as a consequence, in the water where they live.”

“Alright, I understand about how it’s transmitted and I also know that you’ve eaten raw liver and meat and things for years without any bad consequence, but Snorri is such a little guy still, and a bout of diarrhea could have really dire consequences for him, right now.  He can try the liver, he’s old enough to start having little tastes of things like that, but I’d just feel a lot better if we could cook it first.  I mean, we’ve had our hands in that water, been handling the animals whose furs are soaked in it, and if some got on the liver and then…”

“Ok, ok.  You win this one.  Cooked liver only, when it comes from water-dwelling critters.  Far as I’m concerned though, the stuff is plenty safe to eat, and in fact I’d really like some, about now!”

“Well seeing as you’ve been drinking directly out of the river ever since we got down here--splashing around in there, too, and probably swallowing big gulps while you were at it--I don’t see how it could really do any additional harm for you to eat the raw liver, safe or not.  Probably do a lot less harm than not eating it, actually.  I’ll even slice it up for you.  How about that?”

“Sure!  Long as you’ll have some later, after we get a fire going.  Supposing you don’t want it raw…”

“There’s plenty with all the critters we snared, and yes, I’ll have some.  I’ll cook the rest of the livers, hearts, kidneys and maybe even a lung or two along with some meat into a supper soup, and you’ll eat at least half of it.  Won’t you?”

He laughed, dodged a playful swing of the rabbit stick and went back to his work.  “I certainly will.  I’ll eat all of it if you say so, but seems to me that wouldn’t leave too much for the rest of you.  So maybe we’ll try and split it a big more evenly, huh?”

“There will be plenty for everyone.  I’ll just keep adding meat until there’s enough.  Since we still have a fair amount of meat up at the cabin, I figured we might as well just go ahead and live off of this while we’re down here, roast rodent, giant rodent stew, things like that, and save the jerky we brought for another time, since its already dried.”

“‘Giant Rodent Stew!’ Now that sounds might tasty, I’ve got to say.  You could probably can big batches of that stuff up and sell it down below as a novelty in some of the little shops in town…yep, sell it to the tourists as a regional delicacy, or some such.  You’d have your own little business going in no time.”

“Yes, with the same problems that would attend any business we’d ever try to start, up here.  Two of those being that we’d be seriously risking our lives and freedom every time we made a delivery, and that even if we could successfully manage that every month or so…well, what use is money, to us?  Not too much to buy, up here!  Unless of course we could trade the batches of Giant Rodent Stew for other items we could use…boots, socks, Nutella…”

“Yeah, and giant wheels of cheese!  And you see, that’s where our friend Juniper comes in.  You’ll help us out with this, won’t you?”  He addressed a somewhat skeptical Juni, who was not yet entirely used to his concept of humor.  “Surely you’d be willing to haul the soup jars down on your back every month, make the trades and bring us back our stuff, right?”

It didn’t take her long to grasp the situation and formulate a response.  “Only one problem I see with this whole scheme, which is that it’s going to be pretty difficult for you to use all the boots and socks and Nutella I’ll bring you--and the wheel of cheese, wow, that’s going to be a hard one to drag up the mountain!--if I end up crushed under an avalanche or a rockslide every time I try to come back.  Because face it--you’ll probably never let me walk out of here in the first place, let alone back up on your home, your camp, wherever you’re staying, after I’ve gone down to civilization.  That just isn’t happening.  Not a second time.”

Which put quite a damper on the light and at times almost joyous atmosphere of the critter-skinning party, serious questions for all to consider…