GoldenEars

by Jane H Wood

  ‘Wait here. I will scout ahead, see if the bear has gone… then we’ll move.’

  Leaving his family, Joel stood at the top of the hill, scenting the air. The bear was nowhere in sight, and he couldn’t hear it either. Deciding it was safe he hurried back to collect them.

  The family had made it to the brow of the hill and, with cautious paws, began the descent. Kegg glanced sideways at his brothers, worry etched on his young face as his focus rested on Glyth struggling through the damp vegetation, his face taut in stern concentration.

  The injured young brothers plodded on bravely, they knew their family had to keep moving, but the unexpected jolts and slips were causing them extreme discomfort, and finally the pair began to whimper.

  It was mid-afternoon when they finally arrived at the site of the fallen tree.

  ‘Right, I’ll go first,’ Joel said confidently. ‘Then Skeena, Tuke next, then Glyth, followed by little Kegg, with Mother bringing up the rear. How does that sound?’ he asked.

  Mira answered with a nod, though looked uncertain, her eyes taking in the swollen river and the length of trunk they would all have to traverse to get to the other side.

  ‘Now, everyone,’ continued Joel, ‘walk steadily along the centre of the trunk, and when you arrive at the end there’s a short jump onto the bank, as the topmost branches don’t quite reach. Okay, you can do this; keep calm. I’ll be there to help you.’

  He jumped onto the trunk and, with slow careful paws, walked steadily along it, then leapt onto the bank, turned and waited for them to follow.

  With a deep breath to steady herself, Skeena leapt onto the fallen tree and began the slow measured walk along its length. Reaching the halfway mark, she felt Tuke climb on, and the tree shuddered very slightly. However, it unnerved her and she stopped to regain her balance, her gaze automatically turning to the rushing waters beneath her. Then it was Glyth’s turn. He climbed on uncertainly and edged towards his brother. Suddenly, the whole tree trembled as Kegg jumped on jubilantly and quickly caught up with Glyth and Tuke who were dithering a few feet behind their sister.

  Skeena had confidently progressed to the far end when she noticed the thinner branches had dipped dangerously low and were being caught by the buffeting water. In that instant the tree twitched and began to move. Skeena made a frantic dash and took a wild leap, landing successfully on the bank next to her father.

  Mira was watching her pups’ faltering progress along the trunk, dread mounting with each passing moment. The injured brothers had stopped, seemingly unable to move. Young Kegg was being held up by his brothers and stood beside them, paws pressed into the bark, trying to gain purchase as the tree trembled. The single root was still attached but an ominous creaking and groaning was emanating from the depths of the disturbed earth around its base.

  Mira let out a howl of panic. ‘Run. All of you!’

  On the opposite bank, Joel and Skeena watched transfixed, powerless to help as the catastrophe unfolded.

  An urgent howl from Joel made Mira look up. Coming out of the gloom behind her was the bear. In a bellow of recognition, it charged straight for her.

  With no time to prepare, she leapt onto the fallen tree and bounded along its trunk. Almost immediately a high-pitched crack penetrated the air as the root succumbed and broke free. Its anchor torn, the tree splashed into the water, rolling slowly back and forth as the current caught hold. Mira and the three pups had no option but to crouch low in desperation, trying to hang on.

  Joel watched Mira trying to save herself and her pups. The floating tree was gaining momentum, caught in the fast-flowing current, and it bobbed relentlessly downriver.

  Their terrifying ordeal continued as wave after wave drenched their bodies. Mira realised just in time that they were going to fall in and grabbed her youngest pup in her jaws. With grim determination she clung on to Kegg’s scruff as she and her pups toppled into the river.

  Joel was frantic, yelping, telling them to swim, swim hard. He lost sight of their little heads as they disappeared under the tumbling waters, only to pop up again like small corks, swirling and buffeted, at the mercy of the river’s current. He was running now, running fast, weaving past trees and leaping scattered rocks at the water’s edge, while trying to maintain visual contact with the small shapes being carried faster than he could negotiate the obstacles in his path.

  Skeena ran as fast as she could, desperately trying to keep up with her father. But Joel didn’t wait, unaware she was falling behind. His mind was lost, distraught for the safety of his beloved Mira and his three young sons. With a yelp of frustration he came to a halt beside a steep bank of rocks that jutted out into the river. His enforced respite gave Skeena the chance to catch up, and she came to a sliding stop next to her father. They were both panting hard, losing precious seconds as they reassessed the situation.

  ‘We go round,’ yelped Joel, setting off again.

  A few minutes later the pair reappeared through the trees and joined the river again in time to witness the tree float past, tumbling and bouncing in the swirling waters as it continued its journey downriver.

  Joel could no longer see their bobbing heads, so he climbed onto a rocky ledge for a better view over the river. Skeena hurried after her father. In desperation they searched for any sign of their little dark heads amid the churning white water.

  ‘Where is Mother? My brothers… Oh, Father, where are they?’ howled Skeena, scouring the river for her family.

  Nothing… not a sign. They had lost them!

  Panting in distress, Joel stared, not believing what was clearly obvious – they had drowned.

  ‘Come, Father, let’s search!’ Skeena yelped above the noise of the water.

  Father and daughter ran along the riverbank, searching and calling for their family. Tirelessly they searched, until the day finally gave way to dusk. Joel was completely consumed with grief and howled into the night sky. A desperate heart-wrenching cry of loss pierced the air, thrust from deep within his chest.

  Skeena howled too, for the loss of her family hurt deeply. But instinct told her it wasn’t safe here, exposed as they were. She could see her father was incapable of rational thought; his only interest was to stay, with the hope that his beloved Mira and sons would return to him. She watched him hunched there, his downcast face distraught with sorrow.

  It was up to her; she had to take over. With gentle cajoling, she persuaded her father to move away from the river, find shelter and take refuge in the forest. Skeena found an area of densely growing shrubs and ferns, and decided it would afford good shelter for the night. Their mood was sombre as they settled down beneath the leafy twigs, their bodies hidden in the shadows.

  The night closed in around them and darkness descended. The air was still. Then an owl hooted from somewhere nearby as a gust of wind blew out of nowhere, disturbing the trees and ruffling the fur on their backs.

  Skeena angled her body away in alarm, sensing the drop in temperature. In the distance a gentle rumble of thunder rolled on the air, ominously growing louder and heading their way. It sounded deep and sorrowful, vibrating mournfully through the wilderness. A herd of animals moved in the distance, as a low humming hung on the air, before fading into silence.

  Later that night another storm erupted, though their chosen shelter was keeping them relatively dry.

  It was early next morning when Skeena crept away in an attempt to hunt. Her heart wasn’t in it, but for the sake of her father she persevered, knowing food was essential and that it would help him. Just then, as if on cue, a mouse scurried through the grass. With good reactions the young wolf pounced, but missed, then, rebalancing her weight, pounced again. With the mouse held firmly in her jaws Skeena returned to her father and proudly dropped the tiny body in front of him. He rallied a smile, acknowledging his daughter had gone hunting for him and she had been successful.

 
He nodded, feeling a surge of pride.

  ‘You have done well, my daughter. The kill is yours – eat,’ he said, slowly getting to his paws. He made a half-hearted attempt to stretch his back before moving from the safety of the bushes.

  Skeena watched her father momentarily, then gulped down the dead mouse and trotted after him. Standing side by side, the pair gazed down into the swirling waters once again.

  Here to say one last goodbye.

  Joel had wrestled all night with his conscience, accepting that he was to blame for the loss of his family. Distraught with both sorrow and guilt, he lifted his muzzle skywards and howled a long ululating melody of a lost love.

  The young female pup joined her father in their sad lament. Their family had gone… and lost in the depths of despair, they howled.

  A long mournful, heart-breaking howl.

  5

  Sam Rainer turned his old Chevy off the main road and followed the narrow dirt trail as it meandered through the forest. He was driving deeper into the wilderness, passing through the shadows cast by the tall leafy trees that towered over them. Underneath their canopies were areas of dense shrubbery, their shapes indefinable in the gloom.

  But Sam wasn’t lost; he knew exactly where he was going. He took a sideways glance at his friend Bert Mullens, whose obvious delight in being there was evident on his face. They had known each other since their schooldays, and as the years passed and middle age crept up on them they’d found a common interest, in nature.

  ‘Not long now,’ exclaimed Sam cheerfully, and glanced in his rear-view mirror at his son slouched on the back seat.

  ‘All right, Edmund? Just a few minutes more.’ His son gave a weary nod in reply.

  They had set off at first light, leaving Edmonton before the sun had barely cleared the horizon. And now, after several hours travelling northwards, they were almost there. Sam had been keeping a fatherly eye on his son, noting his pale complexion becoming more pronounced as the miles passed.

  He reduced their speed as the terrain dictated, doing his best to keep the ride as smooth as possible, avoiding any uncertain dips and bumps in the trail ahead. Then finally they entered a clearing where the trail ended abruptly.

  Turning the wheel, Sam drew the truck to a standstill and switched off the engine. With a sigh of contentment he leaned back in his seat, studying the beautiful scenery all around them.

  ‘Hear that?’ he asked.

  ‘Yeah, great, isn’t it? Perfect, just perfect,’ answered Bert with a sigh. He copied his friend and leaned comfortably in his seat.

  The motion of the vehicle had stopped at last and Edmund stirred on the back seat and leaned forward to tap his dad on the shoulder.

  ‘Hear what? And what’s perfect?’

  Sam turned his head, noting his son’s disinterested expression.

  ‘The forest, Edmund. Look!’ he replied simply, indicating the forest surrounding them. Sam shook his head. ‘Come on, sleepy. We’ve got a short walk to do. But when we get there, you’ll love it. I promise.’

  ‘This is going to be great! Let’s get our gear,’ began Bert. ‘The sooner we get going the sooner our vacation can start,’ he said, unable to hide his excitement.

  The two men strode towards the rear of the truck, unlatched the tailgate and retrieved their backpacks. Edmund climbed out of the Chevy, his hand clasped over his mouth.

  ‘Take some deep breaths, son. You’ll be all right in a minute,’ assured Sam, handing Edmund his rucksack. He observed his son fighting the urge to be sick.

  ‘I’m okay, Dad,’ Edmund managed to say as he slung his bag casually over his shoulders.

  Sam nodded approvingly but kept a wary eye on him all the same, while he continued to adjust the load high on his own back. He exhaled noisily, feeling the weight settle on his shoulders.

  Edmund studied the large backpacks that his dad and Bert were preparing to carry. Sam grinned reassuringly, noting his son’s concern.

  ‘Yeah. Ours are pretty heavy. They contain the bare essentials for survival in the wilderness. We’ll need every item we’ve brought, but the majority of our food will be provided by the forest or the river… Okay, are you ready?’ he asked, relieved to see the colour returning to his son’s cheeks.

  ‘Yeah. Think so,’ replied Edmund with a slight shrug.

  ‘Great, let’s get moving,’ said Sam, securing his rifle over his right shoulder.

  The two men led the way, walking briskly, side by side.

  Within a few minutes Bert was happily pointing out the different tree specimens and marvelling at each one’s individual beauty, their mass of branches heavy with foliage displaying the vivid greens of summer, while on the ground beneath their canopies a wide variety of shrubs and wild flowers grew in abundance.

  The two men continued to chat quietly to each other, appearing at ease in the forest. Edmund was dawdling behind them, eavesdropping on their conversation, but infuriatingly he couldn’t hear precisely what they said, only managing to catch the odd word that didn’t make sense. Perhaps he was imagining it, but were they deliberately ignoring him? Minutes passed. Maybe they’ve forgotten I’m here, he thought resentfully, having to increase his stride. A disgruntled mood settled over him, worrying if he was going to enjoy this experience.

  Suddenly his dad slowed and spun round.

  ‘Hey, son! Come and walk with us. Look at the forest; it’s filled with the usual conifers, of lodgepole pine, spruce and fir. Beautiful, aren’t they? And over there, larch and aspen, I think.’

  He paused, hoping for a flicker of interest, but his son only mumbled a faint disinterested ‘Hmm’ in response.

  His son’s sullen tone irritated him, and Sam faced front again, shaking his head solemnly. They continued in silence after that, winding through the trees. Dappled light flickered through the branches, casting patterns over the ground-dwelling plants, where a thicket of prickly brambles grew in tangled abandonment.

  Sam was used to being outdoors; owning a small garage on the outskirts of Edmonton had kept him physically fit, and his skill as a mechanic had contributed greatly to the success of the business. He lifted his face, enjoying the warmth on his skin. It was relaxing, unknotting the tight feeling in his stomach. He caught a sly glance from his friend as he ran a hand through his thinning hair, peppered with grey, feeling the perspiration on his head.

  Bert nodded his understanding and lifted his cap, allowing the air to cool his bald head. Well, he thought ruefully, at least his friend had some hair, not like his own which had deserted him long ago. He removed his dark-rimmed spectacles and wiped the beads of sweat from his face and moustache, drying the frame with his handkerchief as he strode on.

  They had been walking for nearly fifteen minutes, heading steadily north-west.

  ‘Nearly there, son,’ said Sam, breaking the silence.

  Edmund didn’t answer. This was supposed to be a treat, he thought grumpily. He’d completed his final year of exams and left school but had no real thoughts of what he wanted to do, or what the future might hold. This vacation was to get him thinking; he had to decide – further education or find a job.

  Sam turned his head, wondering why he was so quiet. His son was at an awkward age, sixteen years old; not a child anymore, yet not a man either. And although he loved him dearly, he had a lot of growing up to do. The boy had a tendency to act impulsively, especially if something was bothering him, which often fired up his spirited side. And on those occasions, he worried him and his mom Doreen to distraction, when he would charge off without a moment’s forethought for the consequences of his actions. Sam was hoping this vacation would help in some way, enable his boy to learn how best to approach any given situation and work it through safely.

  He turned a wary eye on his son again; unmistakably, he had inherited his brown eyes and the copious brown hair of his youth. But Edmund’
s head of hair had a mind of its own, always untidy and finishing in a thick fringe that flopped near his eyes. It hadn’t escaped his notice either that his son wasn’t trying to hide his reluctance at being in the forest. He remained a few paces behind them, his downcast eyes fixed on the ground.

  Edmund wasn’t deliberately being obtuse, for he was deep in thought, wondering why he’d agreed to come in the first place. His dad had promised him a vacation to remember; the forest is beautiful with an abundance of wildlife, the experience was one not to be missed, he’d said.

  ‘How much further?’ asked Edmund, deciding to speak at last.

  ‘Not far; a few more minutes,’ Sam replied, hoping he wouldn’t regret persuading his son to join them this year and remembering the previous two summers when he and Bert had vacationed here, choosing the same months of July and August. It was a good time for both of them to get away, leaving their separate businesses in the capable hands of a fellow worker.

  His wife Doreen had been very understanding, even encouraging him to go. But nevertheless, he felt guilty contemplating leaving her again as they planned their trip for another summer. Even though Sam had tried his best to coax her to join them, she’d declined, stating camping held no attraction.

  ‘All those insects,’ she’d wailed, and shuddered shaking her head.

  He’d immediately protested that it wasn’t camping as such; they intended to stay safe and comfortable in a log cabin, well away from all the creepy-crawlies. However, Doreen remained adamant, wishing to stay at home, safe and secure and with all the comforts and excitement that city life offered.

  ‘Don’t worry about me,’ she’d repeated, ‘you two just enjoy yourselves. I’m due some time off work soon and plan to see Marion a good deal over the coming weeks.’

  He’d nodded, relieved that her forthright boss at the solicitor’s office was honouring her accrued days off, but more importantly that Marion, Bert’s wife, would be keeping Doreen company.