Bones On Black Spruce Mountain Page 5

  "Seth, look, pretend just for a minute, pretend he got all ready to spend the winter up here and then he took off, to Canada, say, where he could start life over again. He found a family . . . "

  "You already said that."

  "I know, I know. But just pretend that's what happened. They took him in and he grew up like any other kid."

  "But how could he just find a family?"

  "I don't know! He just could, that's all!"

  "Okay," Seth said, "I'll admit it looks like the kid did get away, but that stuff about his finding a family is ridiculous. Why do you like it? It's crazy."

  "Not to me. It's not crazy to me. I can't explain it. I just like thinking about it that way."

  "Well, I still don't get it."

  Daniel put on the backpack. "There's no point in talking about this anymore. Come on, let's go."

  Chapter 6

  Seth leveled the compass in the palm of his hand and waited for the needle to stop rotating. "What's that bearing we're supposed to take?" he asked.

  "South 5 degrees east."

  "Yeah.Looks good. It should take us up over the side of the basin. If we go due west when we get up there, we ought to hit the summit pretty close."

  They moved up out of the basin and headed toward the back side of the mountain. The fear and apprehension the boys had felt earlier that day were gone. The discovery of the barrow, the old tools and jars, the pieces of blanket, had answered the nagging, anxious questions that had hovered in the backs of their minds. But what made them feel good, especially Daniel, was their failure to find the bones. It took the terror out of the story, bled it of its horror. The boys could relax and enjoy the rest of the hike. It was a beautiful day, and as they headed for the top of the mountain, they were in high spirits.

  "You know, Seth, that place must be the one Mr. Bateau's father found. Probably there's not even a cave up on the mountain. Nobody could live up there anyway; it's too exposed to the weather. The story must have gotten all mixed up over the years."

  "I think you're right, Daniel. Yes, I think that's right. Maybe we should go back and go fishing or something."

  "Nah. We're up this far, let's keep going. always wanted to see the view from up there anyway."

  Ever since the boys had reached the top of Eagle Ledge, ravens had been fussing in the air above them, croaking worriedly over the two intruders into their domain. It was raven country, high and far away, and the big black birds were not used to humans. All morning the boys had been too nervous about what they might find to notice the birds, but now, with their questions answered, they watched the birds circle above them, listened to the enormous variety of croaks and caws of raven talk.

  "Hey, look at this!" Seth reached down and plucked an enormous black feather off the ground, a primary raven feather from a wing, almost twelve inches long, the biggest feather either boy had ever seen.

  "Neat!" Daniel exclaimed.

  The boys heard a pair of ravens talking to one another nearby. "Here's another trick for you," Daniel said, and as he had done with the owl, he cupped his hands around his mouth and began talking back. First some deep raspy caws that sounded like a crow with laryngitis. Then a blonk, blonkblonk, blonkblonk that sounded for all the world like some-one hammering on a metal pipe. Then the caws again.

  Suddenly two enormous ravens appeared overhead and, seeing the boys, frantically beat their wings to brake themselves; then, in a hiss, a rush of wings, they wheeled and soared away.

  The boys could hear the ravens chattering to each other as they flapped out of sight, discussing what they must have thought was their narrow escape.

  "Did you see that, Daniel! One of them had a feather missing from a wing." Seth stood staring at the feather in his hand, his eyes wide with wonder.

  Seth and Daniel moved up the gently sloping back of the mountain toward the summit. The higher they got, the more stunted the trees became and the less ground cover there was. Now they were surrounded by spruce and fir less than ten feet high, but ancient nonetheless. In this windswept, rocky place growth was slow.

  Then there were no trees at all and the soil gradually thinned out until the boys walked on rock covered only by prehistoric green and gray lichen that clung tenaciously to the enormous outcroppings of granite ledge. Slowly, gingerly, the boys clambered over one enormous rock after another. At last they found themselves standing on a huge, flat-topped boulder, balanced there by a glacier ten thousand years before. There was nowhere else to go; the whole world lay beneath them.

  They looked down a hundred feet to the tops of trees. They saw a hawk soaring below them and for the first time in their lives they could see its back, the top of its wings. They watched the hawk tilt this way and that as it searched the ground far below.

  Both boys suddenly experienced a wild and giddy desire to dive off the rock, spread their arms, and soar like the hawk below. It was a compelling urge, and both felt a kind of lightheadedness they'd known before. They stepped back a little.

  They turned to the south and looked down the side of the mountain to the valley below. They saw the village of Hardwick, the place the boy had rim' • away from, tucked in its valley like a toy town surrounded by trees that, from where the boys were, looked like soft green smoke.

  They looked east up the jagged spine of mountains toward Canada and the larger, more ominous mountains that dwarfed the rock they stood on.

  North, out across Lost Boy Brook ravine, was Seth's farm, a small, smooth place with house and barn, carved out of the jungle of trees.

  They looked west down over the treacherous crag, the western face of the mountain, to the fields and meadows surrounding Daniel's farm. They could see Mr. Bateau's house farther down the road. And deep in the heart of Bear Swamp they saw the beaver pond where they had fished last summer glittering in the sun.

  Then their eyes rose and soared over hills and plains, sixty miles west to the blurred, crooked ribbon of Lake Champlain.

  Seth and Daniel stood awestruck. The world looked so big! Everything human looked so small. They had always thought of their farms as tiny, open places in a vast sea of trees. But what they now understood was how small they themselves were, how insignificant and meaningless their tiny bodies seemed in this end-less landscape. They were ants, mere mites, scuttling across the face of the earth.

  After a long time they eased themselves down off the boulder and inched toward the edge of the cliff.

  "Well, are we going over the side?" Daniel asked.

  "Jeez, I don't know," Seth answered. "It's scarier up here than I thought."

  "I know, but since we're up here, we might as well give it a try."

  The top of the mountain was not as steep as it seemed from lower down. As the boys peeked over the edge, they could see a ledge six or eight feet wide about twenty feet below them. Below the ledge, how-ever, the rock face dropped sheer and straight for a hundred feet. The trip from the ledge on down was only for a bird.

  "What do you think?" Daniel asked.

  "Let's do it. But let's use the rope. We can hitch it up here someplace and throw it over the side. I don't think we'll need it, but if we do, it'll be there."

  The boys tied a jagged rock to one end of the rope, and wedged the rock and rope into a small crevice in the mountain. They tested it to make sure it was secure, then tossed the coil into the air and watched it open, writhing like a snake as it fell to the ledge below.

  Now, as the boys stood trying to screw up their courage, they noticed far to the west, over the big lake, banks of black thunder clouds building in the sky.

  "Looks like rain," Seth said.

  "Yeah, but it's a long way off. Probably a couple of hours. Let's get going. We can get down and back before it hits."

  The boys inched their way down the rock face, never getting more than an arm's length away from each other. It was tricky but not really very danger-ous. There were lots of footholds and handholds all the way down, and although the going was slow, they f
elt secure—until Seth happened to turn away from the rock and look out across the plateau far below. Suddenly the giddy urge to fly that Seth had felt at the top turned to a paralytic fear.

  "Daniel, I can't move!"

  "What?" "I can't move."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I mean I just can't! I looked down. I'm scared."

  "Okay. Take it easy. We'll go back up."

  "I can't. I can't go up or down."

  "Let's rest a minute. Look straight at the rock. Don't look around. Take it easy."

  Daniel talked to Seth in reassuring tones and slowly Seth felt the stiffness ease out of his body. He began relax.

  They were stuck there a long time however, and the dark clouds had moved steadily eastward. The wind began to blow a little.

  They began their descent again, and finally, after what seemed like hours but was in fact only a matter of minutes, they found themselves standing on the flat ledge twenty feet below the summit.

  The ledge was broader than it had appeared from above, and as the boys moved easily along it, they came to a place where it deepened under an enormous rock overhang. Here the flat ledge was a good twelve or fifteen feet wide. The rock overhang jutted out and away above it, making a roof over the ledge. It was a perfect place to camp.

  From here the view was blocked in every direction but west. The boys could still see the big lake far in the distance, but what fascinated them now was the view of Daniel's farm. It seemed closer, more intimate, as if the boys were hovering in the sky directly over it.

  "Daniel, there's your dad!"

  "Where?"

  "He's plowing in the meadow behind the barn. See him?"

  "I'll be darned. He said he was going to start that sometime this week. We're going to put it to corn in the spring."

  Daniel could see his father on the tractor, moving across the meadow, the whole scene in miniature beneath him.

  "Hello!" Seth shouted.

  "He'll never hear you. That old John Deere makes so much noise, he wouldn't hear you if you were shouting in his ear."

  The boys sat for a long time watching. They could see a dark line, the damp, rich earth of the turned furrow, follow the tractor back and forth across the field.

  The rain clouds continued to build. They were moving eastward even more rapidly than before. The wind blew a little harder. Then somewhere to the west there was a vague rumble of thunder.

  Daniel gave up watching his father, left Seth at the edge, and began poking along the back of the ledge. A little farther down the flat place there was a rubble of rocks broken and fallen away from the overhang by centuries of freezing and thawing. There was a small open place in the pile of rocks. Daniel reached through. His hand grabbed air. He began clearing away the stones until he had an opening large enough to slip through. Daniel crawled in.

  "Daniel?"

  "I'm in here."

  "Where?"

  "Over here. There's a cave back in here."

  "Can you see?"

  "Some."

  "Want the flashlight?"

  "Nah."

  Daniel crawled farther into the darkness of the cave; his hands and knees shuffled through the dust. Then his hand came to rest on something smooth and round. It felt like a stone, but not exactly like a stone. He ran his fingers over it. At the top there was a smooth, broad area, then two round holes side by side below the smooth place, then another triangular hole centered below them, then two rows of something that felt . . . like teeth.

  Daniel couldn't breathe.

  Then, calmly, Daniel said, "Seth, bring the flashlight."

  Chapter 7

  Seth scurried on all fours into the dark cave. He flipped on the flashlight. “Oh, God!”

  There it was, half buried in dust, the skeleton of a boy.

  “Daniel, let’s get out of here! Oh, shit, let’s get out of here!”

  Seth dropped the flashlight and headed for the opening. Daniel, however, sat still, hunkered down in the dust and dark cave. He didn’t move; he didn’t speak; he sat there and stared at the boys bones.

  "Daniel, come on!"

  But Daniel didn't hear Seth; he didn't hear anything. He was lost, somewhere inside himself.

  "Daniel!"

  As Seth climbed onto the open ledge, an enormous bolt of lightning struck the mountaintop. The whole mountain shook. The sky was thick and black. Thunder rolled back and forth through the clouds. The trees below tossed in the wind.

  "Daniel! Come on! There's a storm coming. Come on!"

  Daniel didn't answer.

  Then the rain hit. Great sheets of rain and hail lashed the mountainside. The terrible wind and rain drove Seth back toward the opening to the cave. There, under the overhang, he was protected. He stood trembling, looking out through a wall of water pouring down off the mountain above. There was no chance now of getting back up the mountain. If they tried, the wind would pick them up like leaves and blow them away. They were trapped.

  In a daze Daniel emerged from the cave, propped himself up against the opening, and stared out into the storm without saying anything, oblivious to everything around him.

  "What's the matter with you, Daniel? Have you gone crazy?"

  "Nope," Daniel said softly.

  "What's the matter?"

  "I'll tell you later." Daniel was still somewhere else.

  After a long time Daniel reached back into the cave and pulled an object out into the light. "Look at this."

  He held a crude spear in his hands made from a stick and the knife off a cutter bar.

  "It was his weapon, his protection. Look, Seth, look at it. This wasn't for hunting bear. This was to keep him safe from the others."

  "What are you talking about!"

  Then, as if he had just finished a big meal and was about to get up from the table, Daniel said, "Well, now what?"

  "Now what! Now we're getting out of here"

  "You know we're not. We're stuck. We're not going anywhere."

  "We've got to get out of here! I'm going even if you aren't!"

  "Seth, get hold of yourself. It's suicide to climb back up now and you know it. I don't want to die and I don't think you do either. Sit down. We're going to wait for a break in the storm. It can't rain this hard for long. Sit down. It's just some bones. They're not going to throw a spear at you. That kid got rid of his troubles a long time ago."

  Daniel's calm began to have its effect. Slowly Seth began to see the situation with clearer eyes. They would have to wait, and that was that.

  "This spear is amazing," Daniel said. "See how he split the end of the shaft and bound the knife in with wire? He could have killed a bear or a deer, but I bet he didn't.

  "He took it wherever he went. It was always with him. It guarded him. Like our belt knives; we don't real-ly need them, but we feel safer when we've got them."

  Daniel was so certain, so positive about his explanation, that Seth thought it must be true.

  As so often happens with summer storms, the rain stopped and the clouds began to disperse. The boys knew enough not to hope the storm was over. It would begin again, but the lull gave Seth and Daniel a chance to try their escape.

  The climb back up the cliff went quickly, and although the rocks were wet, neither boy slipped.

  When the boys reached the top, they found the bare, stony summit covered with an inch of hailstones. They were melting rapidly, but the footing was hard and slippery. Seth and Daniel inched their way through the ice and soon were moving over soil and under trees. The sky was darkening again, getting ready to let down another torrent. And now, to add to their troubles, it was growing dark. In the excitement and terror of the afternoon the boys had not noticed the day slip away. It was well past suppertime, but eating was the farthest thing from their minds. All either boy could think about was getting back to camp. They wanted more than anything just now to be in the place that had become their home.

  "Let's get out the map, Seth. We've got to find a short cut. It's al
most dark."

  According to the map if they could hold a bearing of east 10 degrees north they would be able to pass around the back side of Eagle Ledge and strike the first small beaver pond where they had been two days ago. It would be farther that way but much quicker, for there would be no climbing. The topographical rings on the map indicated fairly level going. They got their bearing and took off.

  Because of the heavy clouds, dark came sooner than it would have under a clear sky. Soon it was too dark to read the compass.

  "I can't see this thing anymore," Daniel said. "Get the flashlight."

  Seth rummaged in the backpack. "It's not here."

  "Oh, damn! I left it in the cave."

  "What are we going to do? Why did you leave it!"

  "Seth, I don't know. This is no time for an argument! We've got to get home. The only thing we can do is just feel our way along, I guess."

  The instinct that had carried them correctly to Morey's sugarhouse that first day was useless now: it was dark, and they were in new country. Luck was all they had to go on.

  The thunder began again, and the rain. Suddenly, not more than fifty feet in front of them a bolt of lightning struck a huge spruce tree and split it in half. A terrible clap of thunder followed immediately. The explosion was so deafening, the boys staggered back-ward at the noise. Again the intense white light flashed, and sparks danced the length of the tree; then the whole top of the tree burst into flame, tottered, and began to fall toward the boys.

  They dove away from the falling fire. The tree shook the earth when it hit, sending a brilliant shower of orange sparks and fiery branches blowing through the woods.

  When it was safe to look, the boys leapt up and began running through the woods. All reason was gone. Luck had deserted them and fear possessed them. They ran, panting, dripping wet; somewhere, anywhere. They were lost, and they ran.

  "Daniel!"

  Daniel wheeled. In another flash of light he saw Seth lying on his side, gripping his leg with both hands.

  "I'm hurt. I fell. I cut my leg." Seth had tripped—a sharp rock. Now a deep gash oozed blood along his shin. Daniel felt in the darkness through Seth's torn pants. His fingers met the warm, thick blood.