by Mez Blume
“Here, Katie Fire-Hair,” Wattie held out the vial. “You keep it, just in case.”
I tucked the little bottle into the pouch hanging from my belt. “Hopefully I’ll never have to use it,” I said, patting the pouch.
Wattie nodded, then cupped his hand over his eyes and looked up at the sun’s position in the sky. “We’d better get going. It’d be terribly easy to lose the trail if you try coming down in the dark.” He slung the strap of his rifle over his shoulder.
I gulped, but tried to sound upbeat as we said goodbye to a grumpy Imogen and started up the trail.
The path wound its way up the mountain through dense, evergreen forest, trickling streams and soaring, lichen-covered boulders. Crows cawed overhead and we crossed paths with a few deer, but, thankfully, we didn’t encounter another living soul all the long hike up.
“Nearly to the lookout now,” Wattie announced as the path turned suddenly very steep, and we were forced to climb with hands and feet over boulders to reach the flat rock surface jutting out above. At the lookout, Wattie used a bandana to mop the curly hair off his sweaty brow, then took a great gulp from his water gourd.
When I finally got to the place he was standing at the edge of a jutting out rock, gazing out at the fast setting sun, he handed me the gourd. I eagerly accepted it, letting several long gulps flow over my parched throat.
“Can you go on, Katie Fire-Hair? We haven’t much time before the sun sets.”
I would have given my biggest riding trophy to sit down and rest at that moment, but I took one more swig of water and answered, “Yea, let’s go.”
It took my full effort to keep up with Wattie to the top of the mountain. He hardly seemed to break a sweat, but my legs ached and my chest was on fire before he finally stopped at the bottom of a stone stairway carved into the mountainside.
“Old Grizzly’s lodge is just at the top of these stairs. I’ll take you to the door. Remember, you’ve only got about an hour to get back before sunset. With these clouds moving in, I wouldn’t put too much store in making it down by moonlight.”
“An hour should do it,” I said, doing my best to sound confident, but feeling my heart skip a beat at the thought of being alone with the mountain man.
With my last ounce of strength, I pushed myself up to the top step and stopped in my tracks, my breath catching in my chest. I could never have imagined the scene in front of me. It was almost like something from a fairy tale. The mountain top clearing, though not particularly big, was a world all of its own, all the more magical for its loneliness. The setting sun lit up the leafy yellow and orange canopy so that it felt like being inside a golden, glowing lantern. A stone path had been laid from the stone stair to a little log cabin which sat on a rock outcrop right at the mountain’s edge with a sweeping view of the valley below. From a distance back, it looked as if it had been built on the very edge of the world.
Wattie led me up the path and onto the porch where, besides the usual baskets and drying herbs, there were hung rustic pipes and wind chimes made of river cane. As the breeze passed through them, some jangled together, making a woody, tinkling melody, while others, like pan flutes, whispered soft, breathy notes. I was so mesmerised by the dreamlike feeling of the place, I forgot for a moment to feel frightened … until Wattie knocked on the door. The sound made my stomach jump and start dancing to the jangling chimes.
What felt like a long moment later, soft footsteps approached the other side of the door. It opened just a crack, just enough for two enormous, long-lashed dark eyes to peer out. They landed on Wattie and sparkled. The next instant, the door was swung wide open and a girl with silk black hair down to her waist had thrown her arms around Wattie’s neck. He hugged her back like a long lost friend, and I knew this was Ka-Ti.
I don’t know what I had expected a girl raised by a mountain man to look like, but it certainly wasn’t anything close to reality. She must have been only a couple of years older than I was, but Ka-Ti was as beautiful a girl as I’d ever seen, even in books or films. If the mountain top was a scene from a fairy tale, she was the perfect fairy princess. She made even her simple white cotton dress look like a princess’s gown.
Wattie spoke to her in Cherokee, and I heard him speak my name. Suddenly both sets of eyes turned towards me, and I realised I’d been gawking. Ka-Ti didn’t seem to notice. Her whole face lit up in a smile that matched the golden sunset, as if she’d been longing to see me. She reached out and grabbed my hand, the way Sophia had done when we first met, as if we were old friends.
I glanced at Wattie, who looked bemused by Ka-Ti’s familiar behaviour towards me. “Well, I’ll be going. If you’re not back in an hour, I’ll know to come looking for you, Katie Fire-Hair.” His eyes quickly moved back to Ka-Ti, and he dipped his head in a gentlemanly bow before turning to go.
Ka-Ti closed the door behind us and walked—though it looked more like dancing—across the room on bare feet to a hearth where a kettle hung over a small, crackling fire. Bending over the hearth, she looked back and gestured to a thick, woolly rug on the floor in the shape of a bearskin.
I made my way to the rug slowly, taking in the cabin’s interior as I went. It was just one room with a rough wooden table near the hearth, one low, lumpy bed in the back corner and a ladder leading up to a loft. All sorts of tools, weapons and rope hung from pegs on the walls, and a long-barrelled gun hung over the fireplace mantel. It was dark and warm, and the room had an earthy, smoky smell.
But there was magic within the walls of this cabin as well as outside of it. Every surface had been painted in deep, vibrant colours—the chair legs, the wood-slat walls and support beams, even parts of the floor. There were vines, flowers, birds, a river of colourful fish… I looked up. There was even a blue sky with swirling clouds painted on the ceiling. A shaft of sunlight spilled through an open window and brought to life a pair of deer painted on the opposite wall above the table.
I sat on the hairy rug, unable to stop staring at the painted world all around me, until Ka-Ti handed me a mug of hot, sweet-smelling tea.
She folded her legs beneath her on the rug beside me and took a sip of her own cup.
“Blueberry?” I asked, inhaling a breath of fruity, sweet steam.
She nodded.
I waved a finger around the room and asked, “Who painted all of these?” Then, remembering Wattie had said to ask only “yes” or “no” questions, quickly said, “I mean, your mother was a painter, right?”
She smiled and nodded, but I thought her smile seemed a little sad.
Not wanting to upset her, I changed the subject. “I’m Katie, by the way. Our names are almost the same.”
She nodded again and pointed to a painting on the wall above the fireplace where a blue and orange bird sat on a tree branch with a pointy beak.
“Is that a Kingfisher?” I asked. “Oh, is that what your name means? Ka-Ti means Kingfisher?”
She looked pleased that I’d understood. I glanced again at the bird, and something caught my eye on the mantelpiece just below it—a small picture frame with a brownish-tinted photograph inside—but I couldn’t quite make out who the subject was.
Ka-Ti must’ve noticed me squinting at the little frame because she got up and went to the mantel for it. Kneeling down once again, she held it out for me to see.
With a sharp breath, I took the frame from Ka-Ti’s hand. One look had sent a shiver travelling up my whole body, making the hair stand up on my arms and scalp. And for the first time, the thought flashed across my mind: this must be a dream. How else could I know so well the faces looking back at me of a beautiful Cherokee woman with a plump, black-haired baby in her arms.
“Ramona?” I asked in a whisper. My voice had all but disappeared.
Ka-Ti was watching me with a look of intense interest. How I wished she could speak! I had so many questions for her, I didn’t know where to start. I opened my mouth, waiting for my voice to return. But before a single word was out, the door wa
s flung open. I swung around and my eyes met a bear-sized man filling the doorway. He was dressed head to toe in deerskin and wore a rifle slung over his shoulder, a long knife on his belt and in his fist, he held a rope from which dangled two dead rabbits.
His face was shaded by his broad hat brim, but I could just make out the claw-mark scar down the left side of his face and see the firelight reflected in his deep-set eyes. With a gulp, I realised those eyes were fixed like a predator’s on me. He didn’t so much as blink as he took two heavy steps nearer. “Kingfisher, hadn’t you best be gittin’ down to that spring ‘n fetch some water fer supper?”
Without a moment’s hesitation, Ka-Ti stood up, took a bucket from the hearth and disappeared through the open door, leaving me alone and shivering, face-to-face with Old Grizzly.
18
The Grizzly and the Gift
Was it the floor shaking under his treetrunk-like legs as he stepped closer, or was it me? Whichever it was, I didn’t dare move at first, not until he was so close that he hulked over me and I was looking right up into his face. His eyes frowned at me down his long, crooked nose.
Old Grizzly bent down so his face was right beside mine. My heart thumped loudly. I could smell tobacco on his bushy, greying beard. I wanted to close my eyes. Holding his gaze felt threatening, like looking an angry bear in the eye; somehow not looking felt more dangerous.
Without a word, he reached out a big, rough hand and took the picture frame I didn’t even realise I was still clutching. Standing up, he thudded over to the hearth and set the frame gently back on the mantelpiece.
“Wattie knows I don’t like visitors,” he mumbled under his breath. Then, with his leather-covered back still turned towards me, he asked, “Who are ya, anyway?”
“I’m—” My mouth had gone dry. I gulped and tried again. “I’m Katie. Katie Watson. I’m a friend of Wattie’s. He thought you might be able to help me.”
Old Grizzly turned to face me, his bushy eyebrows furrowed. His jaw twitched from side to side, as if he were chewing something. “Help you with what?”
I got to my feet, feeling I’d rather look those stern eyes straight on than from down on the floor. “I just wanted to ask… I thought you might …” I searched desperately for words. Now face to face with Old Grizzly, I couldn’t bring myself to mention the stone or Ramona. Wattie had warned me to avoid those topics, and I was beginning to see his point. Desperate for something to say, I made a wild leap. “I’m looking for my uncle, Tom Tippery. He’s a painter, and I thought you might—”
“Never heard of him,” he growled before I could even finish. Then stomping to the door, he jerked it open. “Now you can tell Wattie we don’t need no more company. Not even little girls.”
I stayed frozen where I stood, shocked. I’d hardly gotten a word in, and I was being chucked out! I swallowed, trying to think of something, anything I could say. Deciding this might be my one and only chance, I took a deep breath and spoke. “I wanted to ask you about the stone.”
The look on his face told me I had made a terrible mistake.
When he next spoke, his voice had a low, dangerous growl. “Get outta my house.” There was nothing to do but obey. Stiffly, I hurried out the open door and felt it slam behind me. I didn’t stop until I’d reached the top of the stone stairs.
Ka-Ti was just coming up them with her pail of water propped on one shoulder. Our eyes met for just a moment. I tried very hard to smile, but I couldn’t hide the terror on my face. She looked truly sorry, perhaps because of her father’s unkindness; but I wondered if partly she was sorry to see me go because she would be left all alone again with nobody but her grumbling old grizzly of a father for company.
“Kingfisher!” came the growling voice from the cabin. Ka-Ti dropped her eyes, walking quickly past me to the house without another glance. Old Grizzly didn’t spare another glance either. He ducked inside and shut the door again, leaving me standing there alone in the shadows.
The mountain top had lost its magic now that the sun had dipped below the distant hills. It was cold, dark and lonely. An owl hooted somewhere off in the trees, and a bat narrowly missed my head as it dived after an insect. And I just stood there, too bewildered to move at first and fighting the lump that had grown in my throat. I bit my lip, determined not to let the mountain man’s rudeness get the better of me.
I wished Wattie were there to guide me back down the now shadowy mountain path. But I would work out the way on my own. Taking my chances was better than risking Old Grizzly coming out to find me standing there crying. I could just picture him raising his rifle and giving me the count of ten to get off his property.
My tired legs smarting, I took the first three steps down and froze, listening. Had I heard another pair of footsteps, or had I imagined it?
Those were footsteps without a doubt. I scrambled back up the stairs and found Ka-Ti waiting at the top of them. Her eyes kept darting over her shoulder towards the cabin as if she was afraid her father might be watching.
“I’m sorry I caused you trouble,” I said, not sure what else to say.
Ka-Ti shook her head vigorously as if to say it wasn’t my fault. She spared one more glance at the cabin, then took a rectangular package bundled up in cloth from behind her back and offered it to me.
“For me?” I asked, and she smiled. “Thank you.” I took the package and held it tight to my chest. “I hope to see you again, Ka-Ti.”
She reached out her hand and squeezed my arm, smiled the saddest smile I’d ever seen, then turned and ran back to the cabin.
“Katie Fire-Hair? Is that you?”
With a rush of relief, I looked up to see Wattie looking back at me as I stumbled into the clearing at the bottom of the mountain. I had got back down the trail on my own, but the shadows were growing longer by the minute, and my legs, still shaking from my encounter with Old Grizzly, were threatening to give up on me.
“Why have you come down so soon?” It was nice to hear the concern in Wattie’s voice after being barked at by the mountain man.
“Turns out Old Grizzly has claws after all,” I said, and told him the whole story as we picked our way across the shoals toward Imogen.
As he listened, he rubbed his forehead and looked thoroughly put out. When I’d finished, he looked downright angry. “Well that’s some way to treat a friend of mine, after all I’ve done … I didn’t have to trade with him when nobody else would. And maybe I just won’t bother anymore.” He spoke upwards as if his voice would carry all the way back up to the top of the mountain.
“But what about Ka-Ti?” I reminded him. “You can’t stop trading with him. She’ll have nobody if you do. She likes you a lot. I can tell.”
Even in the dark, I could tell Wattie was blushing. Quickly changing the subject, he pointed to the package pressed under my arm and asked, “What is that?”
“Oh, I almost forgot. It’s a gift from Ka-Ti.” I stopped, about to unwrap the mystery object when Imogen shouted my name.
“I guess I’d better see what she wants,” I said, sticking the package back under my arm. Wattie shrugged and went off in search of more firewood. I took a deep breath. Imogen was not going to take the news well that my mission had failed. I felt a sneaking suspicion that when she found out we were still no closer to finding a way home, she would either blow up or melt down. Either way, I was dreading it.
“So?” Imogen’s eyes were wide and fixed on me as I sat down on the log she was using as a backrest, setting Ka-Ti’s gift down beside me. “Did you find anything out? Did they know about the painting in the cave, or who brought us here, or how we’re supposed to get back?”
I avoided her glaring, expectant eyes by looking down at the blisters on my palms earned from so many hours’ paddling and shook my head.
Just as I suspected, Imogen let out a burst of hot, angry air. I didn’t have to look. I could easily imagine the murderous look on her face. “I knew it!” She sounded almost happy to have been proven
right. “I knew this was all a waste of time. Now what are we supposed—”
“But it wasn’t all a waste of time,” I interrupted, then quickly dropped my voice as Wattie reappeared at the treeline, close enough to overhear us shouting. “I saw a photograph of Ka-Ti’s mother, Ramona, and she is the very same woman from my dream. I’m sure of it. But before I could ask any questions about her, Old Grizzly threw me out!”
Imogen glared. “Even if you did somehow see this woman in your dream, so what? Why would she want us to come here for nothing? Face it, Katie. You were wrong. It was just a dream, and it didn’t mean anything.” She made a growling sound in her throat. “I can’t believe I let you drag me out here all because of some stupid dream.”
I didn’t answer. Whatever Imogen said, I was positive it had been Ramona in my dream. It had been more than a dream. It felt so very real … the colours, the meaningful look in her eyes … and the danger had felt as real as anything.
My stomach gave a sudden jolt. I’d almost forgotten about the striking serpent. If the dream had been real, if it had been some sort of message, then the serpent must be part of that message too. Was it a warning? I’d been sure in the dream that Ramona wanted me to come nearer, but what if I’d gotten it wrong? What if she’d actually been warning me to stay away from some lurking danger? Something to do with the Uktena … the stone.
There it was again. Somehow that stone linked everything together, but if Old Grizzly refused to speak to me, would I ever be able to work out how?
I didn’t have a clue what I was supposed to do now, except to press on with our other mission to see the Governor and pray some answers came up along the way.
I woke up in the middle of the night, sure I’d heard someone call my name. Wattie lay still on the other side of the fire, one hand resting on his rifle. And there was Imogen, curled up against the log and snoring as usual. I was just about to lie back down and pull my furs up close to my chin when my eye caught sight of a large lump on the log. Ka-Ti’s gift! I had been so preoccupied with my own thoughts and Imogen’s icy attitude that I had completely forgotten about it.