Comments from 10 March

Nancy1340 said…

A very ...pleasant... chapter. Thank you.

I do realize that most of them probably aren’t so pleasant…glad you enjoyed this one!

Russell H Whyte said…

I do believe that was the single most beautiful scene in the entire saga.

Thank you for sharing this with us - very moving chapter. :-)

Russell

Thanks for reading! I’m glad you liked that last scene.

11 March 2012

Today I have no chapter, but will again tomorrow.

Thanks to all of you who are reading!

~FOTH

10 March 2012

When Einar woke the cabin was empty, quiet, a golden ray of late afternoon sunlight slanting in through the slightly cracked front door to illuminate the stove-stones, floating, blinking bits of dust hanging in the brightness of the sunbeam and leaving it to appear almost a solid object, a thing with clearly defined, geometric sides, a path, perhaps, upon which one could have almost walked, if greatest care was taken not to tread too heavily. Which he was certain he would not have done, just then. Might have almost been able to make it from bottom side to top of that golden road.

Watching the lazy wanderings of the buoyant and multitudinous dust particles, floating orbs, planets and stars, perhaps, in a cosmos infinitely smaller yet no less fascinating than his own, Einar was held transfixed at the wonder of it, the magnificence which could be contained in such tiny things and nearly fell asleep again, dreaming of other worlds, before the thought occurred to him--wandering, slippery thing, directionless as the drifting dust and he had to grab hold of it and hang on with all his might before he could pin it down, make any sense of its meaning--that perhaps something was wrong, almost certainly something must have happened to cause everyone to take leave of the cabin. Especially Kilgore with his injured leg. And Liz with…yes, the baby was gone, too, bed empty where he had slept beside Einar, even the rabbitskin blanket missing, and for a brief moment of near-panic Einar wondered if perhaps the visiting couple had somehow prevailed upon Liz to come away with them, abandon the place and seek a new life down in the more civilized and certain confines of Bud Kilgore’s Arizona mountain house. It would not have been the first time they had attempted to make such an argument, though previously--when spoken within his hearing, at least--the offer had always included both he and Liz, and with their leaving-time rapidly approaching, it seemed very possible that they might have seen his untimely slumber as their best and perhaps final opportunity to carry out a plan which must have been solidified between them well in advance of their ever landing in the basin.

Or perhaps, unable to talk Liz into such action as he seriously doubted they would have proven able to do, they had taken it upon themselves to force the matter, taking Liz and the little one against her will and marching her up to the spot where they were to meet that plane in a day’s time, in which case the only hope was for him to hurry after them, catch up and mount a rescue before the deed could be accomplished…a difficult proposal, no doubt, as Kilgore surely would have taken, hidden or otherwise removed from the premises all of his weapons…but one in whose pursuit he would expend every last ounce of the strength that remained in him, succeed or die trying. Better succeed. No other option. Can’t leave them to a life they didn’t choose, no matter how well-intentioned their abductors. You can die afterwards if that’s what you’ve really got to do, but first you must free your family.

Ready to spring from the bed and take action, waiting only on his scattered mind to come together a bit and provide him something of a plan of execution before he moved, Einar found himself suddenly less certain about the entire thing, questioning it, doubting. Kilgore had not been play-acting about that leg, was in no shape to be taking any part in the forcible abduction of a strong, agile mama wolverine of a mountain woman such as his Lizzie, even had he wanted to do so. And Susan, he was pretty sure, would never go along with such a plan in the first place. Though that last one was questionable, she being Kilgore’s new bride and thus at least somewhat trusting in his judgment…

In any event, there surely would have been a monumental struggle before they ever got Liz unwillingly out of the cabin, and there was little chance he would have been able to sleep through such a racket, even in his present state of…well, of not doing so great. If Liz had gone anywhere with them, it had been of her own free will, and if she wanted of her own free will to abandon the place and their life there and seek shelter down in civilization, well, who was he to prevent her taking that path? Did wish she might have found it in her to say good bye, though, give him a chance to see his son one more time and…what are you thinking, man? She’s not going anywhere, and you ought to be ashamed of yourself for thinking it of her. What would she think, if she knew these thoughts were in your head? And besides, hear that? Those are voices. The lot of ’em are sitting out there in the sun, no doubt, enjoying the warmth of the afternoon and probably talking over old times, or new ones, or for all you know just discussing what to have for supper. Mighty suspicious critter you are, that’s for sure. Suspicious indeed, and not in the least inclined to change anytime soon, but he was happy to have the current dilemma resolved, at least to some extent, relaxed back into the warmth of the bed and closed his eyes.

Einar was warm, finally and for the first time in what seemed like many days, the result, no doubt, of Liz’s work with the hot rocks, and he found himself ashamed for having mentioned his difficulty to her in the first place, knew she had remained with him even after he’d drifted off into an exhausted sleep and continued to exchange the stones for fresh, hot ones as they began to cool, and wished he’d kept the matter to himself as he was used to doing. Didn’t know what had got into him, what moment of weakness had allowed him to confide such a thing in her, and in such a way that she took it as a plea for assistance. Which he never would have intended. Well. He’d do better in the future, that was for sure. For the moment though he found himself almost comfortable despite a catch and burn in his breathing where his bruised ribs had been further aggravated in the long haul up from the basin, an incessant ache in the shoulder on the same side and a hungry, hollow hurt in his middle that left him feeling as though he hadn’t eaten in days, despite a rather distinct memory of consuming far too much pemmican, soup and broth over the past twenty four hours.

Not wanting to disturb the rather unaccustomed feeling of repose he remained for some time unmoving, wondering vaguely what everyone was doing outside and what chores he was himself neglecting by remaining so immobile as the day drew to a close, but weighed down too heavily by his own weariness to rise and find an answer. The wind, which had been whispering through the spruces outside and carrying the conversation away into the timber shifted then, slacked off and nearly died, allowing the words of the small party outside to reach him loud and clear, and it seemed Kilgore was doing most of the talking.

“Be an interesting life, that’s for sure, just the three of you and this high, wide-open country up here, mighty interesting as the little one gets older and starts wandering around a little more but a good life too, I would think. Good place to raise a kid. He’ll grow up strong and stubborn as a mule no doubt, just like that bull-headed father of his…yeah, just look at that little guy. All small and cute and harmless right now, but how long do you figure that’ll last? Six, maybe seven months before he’s crawling all over this place wreaking havoc and knocking choppers and small planes down out of the air with rocks and a sling…yeah, probably a good thing that you have to raise him up here, because he’d be a holy terror down there in town, no doubt. I can’t for the life of me figure how Asmundson ever made it through his childhood years in civilization, not seeing the sort of fellow he is, now.”

“Oh,” Liz laughed pleasantly, opening the blanket that covered little Will, letting some of the sun’s rays reach him, “the way he tells it, he spent as much of his time as possible in the woods, even then. He’s told me stories of how by the age of six he was spending most of his spare time out on his own exploring the woods around his house, hiding from his brothers and sister if they came looking for him and sitting motionless so long under the willows that the chickadees would come and perch on his mittens, in the winter…so I think he’s always been a little different, and I have little doubt his son will be similar. There are times when I think I can already see it in him, in his eyes and in the way he holds his body, though I may be mistaken…but like you said, this is a good place to raise a little one, and especially good for one who may end up being as unique as our little Snorri! Up here he can get to know the mountains, the world his father loves so much, spend most of his time out wandering the hills and you know what? It really won’t matter if he isn’t so much like everyone else his age, because he won’t really have any of those pressures around him. I don’t know why I’d want him to be like everyone else, anyway! Because then he wouldn’t be Einar’s son, and that’s exactly who I want him to be, and no one else.”

Susan nodded approvingly. Lucky kid. Blessed, more like. He’s blessed to have them, and them to have him, and if Einar can just pull through this rough patch that’s got hold of him right now and they can keep off the feds’ radar, life is going to be a grand thing for this little family, indeed. Liz, she could see, would do just fine as a mother, was already doing better than fine at not only meeting the little one’s physical needs but in perceiving the future needs and challenges which would mark their life together in the high, remote fastness of their little mountain kingdom, the difficulties of that life proving at least as much blessing as burden.

Sun nearing the tops of the trees and the air beginning to cool, even there in the sheltered and nearly wind-free cove between woodshed and front wall, Einar came hobbling out into the sunlight to join the little group for the last few minutes of the day.

Wild Edible Plants Quiz

I've put together a quiz on some of the wild edible plants mentioned in these stories, if anyone wants to give it a try.

It will allow you not only to identify the plants, but to specify which portions of each plant is or is not edible.

Hope everyone has fun, and learns something in the process!

Wild Edible Plants Quiz

9 March 2012

Susan didn’t have to resort to waking Liz; she was already awake, on her feet and searching with clouded concern on her face for Einar when she saw that his bed of bear hide and blankets was unoccupied, Bud not doing much to reassure her when he sent her out to “go look under a tree.” Which proved entirely unnecessary, Liz meeting Susan as she opened the door from the tunnel and hurrying out with her to the place where Einar lay stretched out on the ground, half in the tunnel and half out. While Susan had been fairly anxious to get him back into the warmth of the cabin she had hesitated to do the task herself, at least not without Liz present, not knowing exactly how Einar might be expected to react should he wake during the process. Hadn’t wanted to find out the hard way.

No such hesitation on Liz’s part--she already knew how he would react, and was ready for it--as she rolled him over, took him under the arms and with Susan’s help got him back into the cabin. By that time he was beginning to come around, twisting and fighting and generally making a dangerous nuisance of himself until Liz took firm hold of his shoulders, crouching beside him and speaking quiet, forceful words. After that he was still, blinking in confusion as he scanned the interior of the cabin and accepting the drink Liz offered him, water with honey, a bit of broth and a secret ingredient or two stirred in. Easier to maintain his grip on things after that, world less shadowy and topsy-turvy around him and he sat up, took the pot and had another long sip of the wonderful solution prepared by Liz. Stuff seemed to be unusually easy to swallow, somehow, and he wondered just how she had made it.

“Sorry for blocking the tunnel. Looks like I created quite the traffic jam, everybody trying to get in and out at once and me right in the path. I’ll try to keep more out of the way, next time.”

Liz laughed--the least of my concerns, you goofy guy!--retrieved Will from the bed and began feeding him, the little one having noticed her absence and begun to wail most insistently for a remedy to the situation. “Out of the way? Oh, no you don’t! I know what you mean by ‘out of the way,’ and I hardly want to come looking sometime only to find you curled up under a tree, well out of the way and frozen nearly to death in the snow! You just go ahead and get in the way, if that’s what you need to do. What happened, anyway? Just ran out of steam?”

“Something like. It’ll pass.”

“Only if you keep eating,” Susan insisted. “Let’s have some lunch, but first, you try this tea I’ve made for you. Nettles and rose hips. It can only help.”

Einar nodded, sat up a bit straighter, propped himself against the wall and took the baby from Liz, nestling the little fellow close against his chest and rocking back and forth in an attempt to keep him sleeping. “Eating’s my whole problem, near as I can tell. Had a bunch of pemmican last night, about half of what you sent along with us, and it’s all caught up with me now. Kind of wearing me out.”

“Well, I’m glad you ate something, at least, but let’s try and stick to things like broth and soup for a while, Ok, when they’re available? That pemmican can be hard on a person’s stomach at the best of times, so I can only imagine…”

Einar just shrugged, accepted the soup she was pressing upon him. Doubted it would do anything other than send him scrambling for the trees once again, but as hollow and shaky as he felt inside, figured he’d better give it a try, anyway. Didn’t want to wake Will with his trembling, which only seemed to be growing worse as the warmth of the stove reached him. The chill seemed, as it had done so often in recent times, to be coming from inside him instead of from without, leaving him quite powerless to resist its advances and for some reason the fact was bothering him a good deal more than it normally would have, seeming something that needed a remedy rather than simply a fact of life to be accepted, lived with and perhaps even appreciated for the challenge it provided. He wanted to live, wanted it so badly as he sat there with his nose nestled gently against the soft down on his son’s tiny head, child’s steady breathing seeming somehow to regulate his own just a bit, steady it out, easing slightly the insidious, numbing cold that gripped his middle and was trying its best to advance, seize him, take him. He closed his eyes, soup pot forgotten beside him as the two breathed in concert, father and son dreaming together in the stillness of the morning.

Kilgore broke the silence, grumbling to his feet and taking a tentative step on his injured leg, letting everyone know in no uncertain terms when Susan’s improvised split did not quite do an adequate job protecting the injury from the weight he was attempting to put on it. “Doggone thing won’t hold me up! Gonna be a long walk through the snow with this thing. Have to see if Roger can commandeer a chopper and lift us right up out of here…how about it?”

That got Einar’s attention, left him wide awake and staring at the tracker with a murderous look in his eyes for a moment before he realized the man had been joking. “How about you get used to the idea that you’ll be spending the rest of the winter here, in that case? If you can’t walk out to wherever you were planning to meet him, I guess that’s what you’re gonna have to do. No chopper comes anywhere near this place, not if the pilot, crew or anyone unfortunate enough to have hitched a ride on said vehicle care about living through the incident!”

“Knowing your kill ratio on them things--and all with an atlatl and improvised bows of one sort or another, if I’m remembering correctly--I have no doubt you’re right about that one, Asmundson! Roger’s not up for liberating any choppers most likely, anyway. Not for a simple retrieval like this. Would have to be a little more at stake to make it worth his while. Not a whole lot, maybe…but that’s another story. Nope, I’ll walk out. Just have to come up with a better way to secure this doggone leg, protect it…”

“Got a little experience with that one, myself. I’ll see what we can come up with. Need to leave it alone until some of that swelling goes down, though. Hey, if we can’t get anything else to work, I can just have you lie down in the snow, tie a rope around your feet and haul you up there to the meeting place, myself.”

“Right…seems to me you done more than enough hauling of that sort, for the time. I’ll get myself up there. We can work on the leg tomorrow. Swelling’s already seeming a little better. Maybe the darn thing ain’t actually fractured. Not much chance, but maybe. We can hope.”

With which Bud got himself to his feet once again, taking a few careful steps with Susan’s help before returning to his seat. A good start, and things were really beginning to look up as far as his ability to get around. Weren’t going so well for Einar, it seemed, who had sunk once more into a stupor of sorts, head sagging towards his knees and body slumping towards the ground. Liz hurried to take the baby, helped Einar up and onto the bed. Under other circumstances he might have objected--it was, after all, still light outside, the afternoon still quite young--but found himself too weary and numbed even to contemplate such resistance. Was too numb to do much of anything, in fact, couldn’t seem to begin to get warm even tucked in beneath the hides and he mentioned the fact to Liz, voice sounding to her all strained and strange.

“What do you mean? That’s not like you. I thought you didn’t even care about being warm, most of the time. Usually it’s me who has to remind you to try and keep from turning into an icicle overnight, and usually you don’t even want to hear it.”

“This is…different. Got such a grip on me. Need to go…climb something or…run in the snow until I…”

“No you don’t. That’s not what you need, at all. You’re just worn out from last night. You stay right here with me and I’ll get you some rocks from the stove. That’ll help. That, and some honey so your body can produce some quick energy to warm you up.”

Bustling about the cabin as she rounded up the things she hoped would help Einar through the difficult patch that seemed to have seized hold of him that day Liz could not help but think that the very thing which she had so been hoping to see in him and which he so desperately needed before he could begin to head in the right direction again--the recognition of just how serious his condition had become and a willingness to do something about it--might end up doing him in, if she didn’t watch out. His immensely powerful and all consuming need to resist, to fight had, she knew, been the only thing keeping body and soul together for him at times--many times--over the past months, and she recognized the very real danger that existed if ever his mind or body should get the idea that he no longer needed to fight, that he could ease off. He’d be gone, just like that, if such happened in his current condition. She had little doubt. Didn’t know how to communicate these things to him, though, without sounding as though she was speaking against the change she saw in him, the willingness on his part to finally begin doing the things he’d been needing to do for so long and allowing himself to eat, heal, which of course she was not.

Too complicated. So she simply mixed a strong solution of honey, warm water and a bit of milk she’d earlier set aside, fetched three hot stones from beside the stove, and returned to the bed.

8 March 2011

No chapter today, but I'll have another for tomorrow.

Thank you all for reading!

7 March 2012

Waking with a grumble and a groan shortly after Einar retrieved his third bowl of stew, Kilgore squinted around the cabin, looked down at his leg and quickly pieced everything back together. Some mighty strange dreams he’d been having, between being dragged through the dark, snowy woods with his head clamped between two snowshoes and bounced over fallen trees that lay in his path, but now that he looked around and saw where he was, he realized the entire thing was not only possible, but entirely plausible. Especially when he made a brief visual inspection of Einar. Fella definitely looked as though he’d been through the wringer, and Bud didn’t at all like the way he was holding himself, all twisted up and drawn in as if something might be injured inside. Not that he felt too great, himself.

Flexing legs, arms as he tried to work some of the kinks out of things he was beginning to feel the full effects of being dragged all those miles through the rather…lumpy…timber, bumps and bruises all over but that stuff would heal, and here they both were alive, warm or at least getting there and more or less well back in the cabin. And in need of some serious planning and thought if they were to make their rendezvous with Roger in two days’ time, too. Seemed they’d better be leaving pretty soon for their arranged meeting place if they wanted to make it in time, because he had a feeling that he was going to be mighty doggone slow out there in that deep snow with his leg all twisted up and swollen the way it was. Thing was starting to hurt pretty good again, throbbing and aching something fierce, demanding his attention so that he shifted position in an attempt to alleviate it a bit, knocking over the pot of tea Susan had recently left beside him, in the process. Pot clattering away across the floor Einar--who had very nearly been asleep again, himself, since the end of his conversation with Susan--jumped to his feet and stood staring wide-eyed and ready for action with spear in hand, breaking into a grin and allowing himself to lean heavily on the wall in the hopes of preventing a fall when he realized the source of the disturbance.

Muninn was not so forgiving, scolding and chortling from his perch behind the water barrel and generally making known his displeasure with the noisy intruder who had dared to disturb the peace of the morning. Not wanting to see Liz and Will disturbed Einar hobbled over to the bird, made a quick motion by way of summons and braced himself as Muninn landed heavily on his shoulder. Gritting his teeth against the hurt of the raven’s claws on his shoulder where the hauling-straps had left numerous bruises and abrasions. Nothing to worry about, you old vulture. Got me for a minute there too, but we can both relax now. Can…huh. Looks like we can do our relaxing right here on the floor, because my legs just aren’t doing what I want from them, right now. Neither, come to think of it, was the rest of him, and Einar quickly lowered his head, curling up against the water barrel in a hasty attempt to retain consciousness, and it worked, leaving him to watch in somewhat of a daze as Susan righted the pot of tea, refilled and set it once again to heat on the stove.

“You’re awake!” She addressed Bud. “How’s the leg?”

“Still attached. Stuff you gave me seems to be wearing off now and it hurts some, but I’ll live. Gonna be a slow climb up to the ridge where we’re supposed to meet Roger, though. Not too worried. We had backup plans, and backup plans for those, he and I did. If we don’t show up at the appointed time, he’ll be back exactly two days later, and then a week after that.’

“And if we happen to be overdue by more than a week?”

“Aw, then he’ll just assume we’ve fallen victim to some addle-brained but still extremely agile and dangerous mountain man critter who’s rumored to inhabit these snowbound heights--kinda like the Yeti, you know; the rumors are rampant--and he’ll stop looking for us.” Eyes dead serious as he stared at Susan, but she wasn’t buying it, and they both broke into laughter at the same time.

“Nah, at that point we’ve got the radio. Couldn’t use it right here, too risky even with all the precautions we took, but one of us could take a day hike to a safe spot, and get in touch with him.”

“Yes, if it comes to that. For right now though, I hear your tea starting to boil, and it looks like the ‘addle-brained but still extremely agile and dangerous mountain man critter’ over there could probably use some, himself, so let me go finish making it.”

“Got anything to put in that tea? Willow or something? Surely Asmundson has some around here somewhere…hey, Asmundson! Mind if I eat your snowshoes? Shred ’em up and put ’em in my tea?”

Einar, addle-brained mountain critter that he was--had to admit he was none too sure about the “extremely agile and dangerous” bit just then, but would have tried to live up to it, if necessary--had been listening rather intently to the conversation, chuckling silently and shaking his head at Kilgore’s antics even as he hoped very much they wouldn’t find any cause to use a radio while anywhere near his basin.

“Yeah, I mind if you eat my snowshoes. Don’t touch my snowshoes. But I’ve got an old willow stick around here somewhere that you can have, if you really want it. Things all full of tooth marks from when I’d have to change the dressings on my foot, but it kept me from losing a few teeth at the time, that’s for sure. Leg’s pretty bad, it looks like?”

“You can keep your old willow stick, man. I’ve got Sue with the medical kit, and that’ll beat an old chewed up willow stick, any day! I may be every bit as tough as you, but thankfully I don’t have your insane, unquenchable need to seek out more hurt than life’s already dealt you, just to see if you can take it. Rather take a pill or two, in this case. Yeah, leg’s kind of a mess. All swelled up. What’d you do to me, anyway?”

Einar just laughed, shook his head again and curled back up into the heat-conserving ball that had been allowing him to continue slowly returning to something near a normal body temperature--long, long process after that past night--weary and feeling once again as though he might be dangerously near losing consciousness.

Dipping back into the medical kit, Susan retrieved more medication to help Bud with the pain and swelling in his leg, wanting to give some of the same to Einar. She could see that he was obviously in a good bit of pain with his side where he’d fallen, favoring his shoulder and ribs, legs cramping up on him every time he tried to move after the incredible exertion of the long haul up from the basin and the open wounds on hips and collarbone not appearing terribly comfortable either, but he refused, and she did not want to push the matter lest he get the idea she was trying to force him into things. Especially not after the understanding they had seemed to reach, earlier. He was almost asleep again, anyway. Best simply to let him sleep, if he could. Which, unfortunately, he was not to be able to do for too long at all.

Beginning in the late morning hours to suffer the effects of the reasonably large quantity of pemmican he’d gobbled in his desperate quest for the energy needed to complete his night-long haul up from the basin, Einar found himself with increasing frequency having to dive for the tunnel and hurry out beneath the trees, his body rather unfamiliar with the intake of such quantities of food and not reacting particularly well. On the fifth or sixth such trip he was a long time in returning, too long, Susan thought, and going to check she found him passed out in the tunnel, badly dehydrated and in worse trouble than she’d realized… Time to wake Liz.