The Georgia Series Collection

Chapter 10

My eyes popped open. I bolted up, unsure of my surroundings. It was morning and my lengthy sleep surprised me. A chilled cabin greeted me, and I scurried out of bed to refill the box. My warm, dry jeans were a joy to put on. A ring of keys hung on a coat hook and I went outside to remove the padlock off the front door, which gave me easy access to the creek for water. Four inches of snow covered the ground and snowflakes still fell. Trembling with cold, I unlocked the window shutters to let in the morning light, and hurried back to the warmth of the cabin. Thoughts of the kidnappers filled my thoughts as my eyes scanned the meadow through the picture window.

Where are you, you bastards? Are you out there? Are you coming?

Where are you, you bastards? Are you out there? Are you coming?I shuddered and turned away. The stream beside the cabin was the obvious source of water, and armed with two pails from under the counter, I trudged out once again. A thin film of ice had formed over the stream, but one easy bang with the bucket broke through. I stared at a cup of water that I raised half- way to my lips. Was the water safe to drink? How could I tell? Better boil it first.

Was the water safe to drink? How could I tell? Better boil it first.Cooking on a wood stove proved to be more difficult. The heat couldn"t be turned up or down with an instant flick of a switch. Within minutes, the porridge boiled over and burned on the bottom. I ate the sticky mess anyway. It was wonderful to have access to this food but the supplies would only last so long. The longer I stayed, the more likely the weather conditions would prevent me from leaving.

I stood by the window watching the continued snowfall and one thought came to mind. I escaped one hostage only to be trapped by another—Mother Nature. The irony of this filled me with despair. My eyes searched the sanctity of the cabin. It would be hard to leave but I must. Or maybe the owner is a hunter and will be back soon. Certainly, the well- stocked woodpile and food supplies indicated the cabin was being used. Girl, you can"t be sure anyone will return to the cabin until spring or summer.

I escaped one hostage only to be trapped by another—Mother Nature.Or maybe the owner is a hunter and will be back soon.Girl, you can"t be sure anyone will return to the cabin until spring or summer.The battle of whether to go or stay was decided by logic. I was a long way from civilization, but I needed to leave. If I could find my way back to the dirt road, I could make it out.

“That"s it, sweet pea. Once the snow stops, we"re leaving.”

A couple of out buildings stood behind the cabin, as well as an outhouse. The smaller of the two structures contained tools, an axe, more pails, a knapsack, fishing rod, an awl, some shovels, a tarp and various fishing gear. The larger one was a workshop equipped with small hand tools. They were old but well maintained. A late model Honda 3000 Series Inverter Gas Generator stood in one corner. Nosing around, I could see it had an electric start. Looks easy. I checked the gas tank and saw it was full. How long would a tank last? Newer generators were quieter than the old ones, but fear stopped me from trying to start it. What if my abductors were still around and heard it? There were some five-gallon kerosene cans stored in the shed for the kerosene lamp, but I didn"t see any more fuel for the generator. The generator seemed to be overkill for two light switches and two electrical outlets, especially since I didn"t see any electric kitchen appliances to plug into them. I decided to be cautious and forget the generator.

Looks easy.How long would a tank last?What if my abductors were still around and heard it?I found some paper and a pen back in the cabin and made a supply list of what I should take. On a duplicate copy, my name and telephone number were added to leave for the cabin owner. A sudden thought hit me. What if my kidnappers found this cabin and my note advertising my name and phone number? The second list was thrown into the stove. If I found my way back to civilization, there were other ways to find the owners.

What if my kidnappers found this cabin and my note advertising my name and phone number?I spent the afternoon gathering items and added a sleeping bag from the bed. That night I fried some bannock, a heavy bread and a diet staple to Indigenous people. It didn"t resemble any bread I knew, but at least it wasn"t burnt. I, also, cooked up some rice and placed it in a plastic storage container mixed with canned baked beans. Preparing some plastic bags of dried fruits, nuts, and raisins was a simpler task. I decided against taking any of the fish products in case I came across a bear. Don"t want to smell like dinner.

Don"t want to smell like dinner.The next morning, the sky was overcast. The distant horizon promised a clear day.

“This is it! We"re leaving!”

My knapsack was soon filled with the previous day"s gathering of food supplies, some matches and a first aid kit. On the outside of the pack, I tied the axe, a small shovel, the sleeping bag, a bottle of water and the tarp. By eight o"clock the fire was down to coals, the cabin relocked and the key replaced on the hook.

I took one last glance at the cabin, then walked across the clearing and headed back down the trail that brought me here.

The snow changed the appearance of the terrain, making the woods unfamiliar. I plodded along on what appeared to be a main trail. The morning wore on and I knew I"d never find the way I came in. The old game trails were no longer visible. Sometimes fresh animal tracks led me for a time until they disappeared into thick brush. I stopped to look around. Lost again. Dease Lake had to be south-east. But when the sun disappeared behind the clouds and the trail veered off, my directions were turned around. I tried to follow the creek, knowing water usually led to civilization. This wasn"t always easy to do. Tripping over hidden debris in the snow was dangerous and could lead to injury. So in the end, I chose to follow the fresh, untouched ribbons of snow that filled the trails. Keep moving.

Lost againKeep moving.I stopped at noon to rest and eat, and then pushed forward, singing a hearty rendition of Michael Buble"s, "Home", to create noise for any animal life nearby. But I promptly stopped, fearful that Bobby and Gary were searching for me. I shuddered. It was highly unlikely they were still in the area, but my fear became stronger than my reasoning.

Dusk came, prompting me to make camp for the night. A hollow between two fallen trees caught my eye. Half of the tarp covered the hole nicely on the ground, with the rest pulled over the edges of the two trees and tied down. My sleeping bag lay over a bed of evergreen branches inside the tarp. I dug around in the snow to retrieve some twigs and debris for a small fire. Some dry sphagnum moss scrounged from the woodpile helped to get it started.

I was proud of my little camp set-up. Pat yourself on the back, girl. You did well.

Pat yourself on the back, girl. You did well.A dinner of rice and beans, followed by some dried fruit, quelled my hunger. By now it was dark. I pulled some branches across the opening of the tarp to protect me from the wind and hopefully from the dangers of the forest at night. In spite of my apprehension about sleeping outdoors again, I fell asleep quickly from exhaustion, warm and cozy in my little nest.

The sound of snapping twigs woke me. Something or someone was out there. I listened and held my breath as the noise moved closer. My throat constricted. Oh God, here we go. A large shadow loomed on the trail. A smaller shadow passed on the outside. A partial moon illuminated the snow enough for me to make out a doe and a yearling. I breathed a sigh of relief and let my muscles relax. They stopped to feed on the bushes beside the path. I silently watched them, feeling privileged to be so close to two of nature"s majestic creatures. They eventually moved on, oblivious to my presence.

Oh God, here we goThis time, sleep evaded me.

Every noise kept me on edge. I managed to doze off shortly before dawn. The call of nature, finally, forced me up.

“Today willl be the day, sweet baby. Today we"ll find our way out.”

I kept moving from path to path throughout the morning, never once seeing the creek. What I did see sent chills throughout my body. Bear scat. Fresh bear scat. My bones ached at the thought. The fall was a bad time to run into bears. My grandfather was a hunter and told me stories as a kid about the dangers of bears when they were in hyperphasia. Bears need to reach a certain body weight to trigger an enzyme that leads them into hibernation. Females were especially dangerous because they can be pregnant and give birth during the hibernation phase. With trepidation, I moved on, pushing the thought of bears from my mind.

Fresh bear scatAgain, the sun hid behind cloud cover, hindering my judgment. All the paths and trees looked alike. Faced with yet another fork in the trail, a lunch break seemed appropriate. My final decision took me to the left. Thirty minutes later, rounding a bend, I came within twenty feet of a grizzly bear. We both stopped short. He looked as startled as me.

My heart pounded in my ears. My mind worked overtime.

Should I run? No, never ever run from a bear, black or grizzly.

Should I run? No, never ever run from a bear, black or grizzly.The animal let out a roar but stood his ground.

Okay … should I yell, appear aggressive and large? No, that"s for blacks not grizzlies.

Okay … should I yell, appear aggressive and large? No, that"s for blacks not grizzlies.He started to paw at the ground. Is it a he or a she? A pregnant she? For no logical reason or prior knowledge on the subject, other than sheer size, I decided on a male.

Is it a he or a she? A pregnant she?,The bear lowered his head and moved his shoulders from side to side. Uh-oh … this is definitely a bad sign. Maybe I should drop to the ground and play dead. But what if he drags me away and buries me?

Uh-oh … this is definitely a bad sign. Maybe I should drop to the ground and play dead. But what if he drags me away and buries me?My mind turned to mush. Too many questions, not enough answers. In truth, it didn"t matter if I did know what to do. My body felt frozen to the spot. My breathing became shallow. All time felt suspended as I stood perfectly still and watched. I knew that you should never stare a male gorilla in the eye; he would think you were challenging him. Without a clue as to whether this worked with grizzlies, I lowered my eyes to the ground and waited.

The bear let out a deafening roar and charged. I stifled a scream and closed my eyes tight. Sucking in my breath, I waited with taut muscles. Nothing happened.

I opened my eyes and watched him retreat to the same spot on the trail, but once again with lowered eyes, using peripheral vision to watch his movements.

He was only sending me a warning. Maybe, I should back away slowly.

Maybe, I should back away slowly.I placed one foot behind me slowly, then the other. He started to move his shoulders back and forth again.

Oh my God!

Oh my God!The huge animal charged again. My heart pounded so hard, I thought it would burst through my rib cage. This time my eyes stayed open, but he only came a few feet. A half-hearted attempt and once more he backed away. All feeling was gone from my body. Images flooded my mind of the bear dining on my broken, b****y body, and the bear curled up in his den amongst my ripped clothes and scattered bones, deep in winter slumber. Would I be the last meal that took him into hibernation?

Would I be the last meal that took him into hibernation?While I stood my ground trying to decide if I should attempt to back away again, the grizzly gave a short snort and turned his back on me. He lumbered off down the trail. Backing away slowly, I turned the corner behind me and sank to my knees. My breathing was raspy and my whole body shook.

Okay, girlie, this is no place to suddenly go weak. Get your a*s out of here before he decides he wants a piece of it for lunch.

Okay, girlie, this is no place to suddenly go weak. Get your a*s out of here before he decides he wants a piece of it for lunch.I tore back along the path, and when I reached the fork in the trail, I turned right and kept moving. I"d been lucky. Thank God it wasn"t spring. I wouldn"t stand a chance with a mother bear and her cub.

Mid-afternoon approached and I finally stopped for a rest. I felt a little discouraged, knowing that I should have reached the dirt road by now. After my bear encounter, I didn"t relish the idea of spending another night in the woods. I perched on a stump and stared around me, noticing that the path reached a stream. My heart pounded in my chest as I raced to the water, searching for a spot to cross, rushing through the shallows and up onto the other side. The trail took me to an incline.

Oh, no.

Oh, no.Pushing myself up the hill, I followed the path to the edge of the trees and a clearing.

“No!” I yelled, falling to my knees. “It can"t be … no … no!”

I pounded the ground with my fists until the wet snow seeped through my clothing. My body shook from hysteria and the chilling dampness. The cold finally forced me up. I dragged my weary body across the clearing with a heavy heart and circled to the back of the cabin. The key was right where it should be and once again, I let myself in. The wood stove roared to life when lit. I stripped off my wet clothes and collapsed into the bed, not allowing myself to think about what this meant, or chastise myself for my stupidity in circling back. I wouldn"t allow myself to feel! When dusk came, so did a deep sleep.