The Complete Screech Owls, Volume 1

by Roy MacGregor

  He felt someone grab his own legs. He looked back. It was Rachel, and behind her Liz was down with her arms around Rachel’s legs.

  “Go on!” Rachel shouted ahead to Jesse. “We can hold you!”

  Jesse wiggled forward. Travis wriggled. The girls wriggled. They moved ahead like a slow snake, the blade of the farthest stick coming ever closer to Nish.

  “Grab it and hold!” Jesse shouted to Nish. “Don’t pull! We’ll do all the pulling! You just hold on and try to slide out, okay?”

  Nish was no longer screaming. He was scared. He was placing all his hope in Jesse.

  “O-k-kay!” Nish said. He was crying openly. Travis couldn’t blame him. He was crying too.

  Jesse wiggled ahead one more time. Nish reached out with one mitt and took hold of the blade. He had a good grip.

  “Let go of the ice!” Jesse called.

  “I CAN’T!” Nish shouted. There was pure terror in his voice.

  “You have to!”

  “I’M AFRAID TO LET GO!”

  Suddenly, from behind Travis, Rachel shouted, “LET GO, NISH! YOU’LL BE ALL RIGHT!”

  There was a brief pause, and then Nish let go of the ice and took the blade with both hands.

  “Hang on!” Jesse shouted. Then, to Travis and the others, “Slowly, now. Pull back slowly!”

  They began to inch backwards.

  Nish pushed at the ice. It cracked loudly and gave under him, sending him back down.

  “JUST RIDE RIGHT OVER THE ICE!” JESSE YELLED. “DON’T DO A THING BUT HANG ON AND SLIDE!”

  They pulled again, and Nish came out part way. The ice gave a mighty crack and Travis closed his eyes–but nothing happened. It was holding.

  They pulled again. Nish came up a bit more. His upper body was out and resting on the ice. His face was twisted into a scream, but no sound was coming out.

  “ONE MORE!” Jesse called. “ONE MORE AND HE’S OUT!”

  Travis felt a tremendous yank on his legs. He couldn’t believe the strength of the two girls behind him. He pulled as hard as he could. He could feel Jesse pulling.

  “HE’S OUT!”

  Jesse turned over on his back, gasping for air. Nish was fully out of the water and on the ice. He was wiggling toward them, still holding the stick.

  They worked Nish back. As soon as he was able, Jesse reached out, grabbed Nish’s hands, and pulled him quickly to them.

  “Spread out again!” Jesse ordered. “We don’t want to break through!”

  Travis moved away quickly. Nish tried to get to his feet. He was gasping, choking, and shaking violently. Jesse stayed with him, got him standing, and slowly they all began retreating from the hole.

  Nish was bawling. He couldn’t stop. He was sobbing and blubbering and couldn’t seem to get his breath. But he was alive!

  Though how long could he last before he froze to death? Travis wondered.

  Travis had never felt so helpless. If he had been in charge, Nish and he would have turned to ice on the banks of James Bay, their frozen tears proof that they had been bawling like newborn babies right to the bitter end.

  Fortunately, Travis wasn’t in charge–Jesse and Rachel Highboy were. Jesse opened up the lead toboggan and removed one of the sleeping bags, which he quickly unrolled and wrapped around the shaking, whimpering Nish.

  “We’ve got to get out of the wind,” Jesse said. There was no panic in his voice, just grim determination.

  Jesse wasted no time. He got Nish onto the lead Ski-Doo with him, Rachel and Liz took the other one, and Travis straddled the toboggan. Jesse quickly found a trail up from the shore, and as Rachel followed, Travis took one last look behind him. The bay was quickly vanishing from view, but above it he could see a huge, threatening cloud the colour of a bad bruise. He hoped it was going away from them.

  The two machines entered a thick stand of spruce, and Travis could see Jesse standing up as he drove, his helmeted head turning this way and that, until finally he came to a clearing surrounded by trees. He stopped his machine, and Rachel pulled hers up directly behind.

  “Keep Nish warm!” Jesse shouted to Travis as he began opening up the two toboggans.

  Travis could see his friend was shaking right through the sleeping bag. What was he supposed to do? Turn up the thermostat?

  “Rub him!” Jesse shouted. He already had an axe out, and was throwing other things onto the ground. Out came a big orange plastic sheet, another axe, a shovel. Rachel took the shovel and began to make a bank of snow around a small area within the clearing.

  Travis and Liz felt stupid and useless. Travis shrugged at Liz, wrapped his arms around Nish, and began rubbing him through the covers. He could feel his best friend shaking–no, rattling–like a machine that was about to burst apart. Travis was scared. Liz moved in to wrap her arms around Nish, too.

  “LEMME BREATHE!” Nish shouted. It was like music to Travis’s ears. At least Nish was still Nish. Frozen, maybe, but still Nish.

  While Liz and Travis rubbed the freezing Nish, Rachel continued banking up the snow. Then she snapped off dead branches from the spruce trees and set about making a fire. She carefully laid down the dry wood, crisscrossing the branches, then returned to the spruce for some live boughs with needles still on them.

  With what seemed like a dozen quick chops with the axe, Jesse had felled one of the spruce trees. He lopped off some of the branches, then pulled a small Swedesaw from the toboggan and quickly set to work cutting up the trunk. Travis could see the sweat pouring off Jesse’s forehead.

  When he had cut three good-sized pieces, Jesse knelt down in the snow and chopped at each one until he had dozens of long, curling chips that were only half cut away from the logs. Travis had no idea what he was doing.

  Rachel started the fire. The dry branches caught easily, and then the needles ignited, the fire roaring and snapping almost as if she had poured gasoline on it. As soon as it was really going, Jesse piled on his three logs, and Travis saw now why he had cut them the way he had. The long, curling chips sticking out from the logs caught fire easily, and not only did they help the fire grow stronger, they kept the logs apart so the flames could lick up in between. Jesse had no time to admire his work: he was right back sawing more logs from the downed spruce.

  Rachel had the other axe and was cutting down smaller trees. The axe was so sharp, some fell with one or two blows, until Rachel had nearly a dozen down and was busy hacking off the branches. It looked to Travis as if she was making fishing poles.

  “I-I-I th-th-th-ink I-I’m dyyy-inggg!” Nish suddenly howled. He sounded like a sick dog.

  “Don’t be ridiculous!” Liz snapped at him.

  She, too, seemed suddenly in control. In fact, everyone appeared to know what to do but Nish, who thought he was dying, and Travis, who thought he was useless.

  Rachel was working the poles into the snow to one side of the fire. “Travis!” she called. “Can you help me for a minute?”

  Travis had hold of Nish and was afraid to let go. But Liz pushed him off and hugged Nish closer. Travis hurried over.

  “Help me get these up!” Rachel told him. “They’ll have to hold against the wind.”

  Travis followed Rachel’s instructions exactly. They pounded the poles down like fenceposts in a semi-circle, and then built up more snow around them. Rachel had planned her structure so it included three live spruce, their roots holding them far more solid than anything Travis and Rachel could manage by pounding. She cleared off their branches with the axe so that the standing spruce fit perfectly in line, one on each end and one in the middle.

  Travis still had no idea what she was doing.

  “Help us with the tarp!” she called. She and Jesse were already unrolling the big orange plastic sheet. The three of them hoisted the tarp up and, using bungee cords, carefully attached it flat against the spruce posts. Rachel and Jesse took special care to secure it to the three spruce trees that still had their roots. When they were done, they had built a wall that
curved in a semi-circle, which not only cut off the wind but also caught the heat of the fire. Travis could feel the heat blasting at him. It felt wonderful.

  Neither Rachel nor Jesse had spoken a word to each other during the whole procedure. They had called out instructions to Travis and Liz, but nothing whatsoever to each other. Had they practised this in case some idiot fell through the ice? Travis wondered.

  But there was no time for foolish questions.

  Jesse remained in control, though he still looked concerned. “Get that sleeping bag off Nish!” he commanded, coming over to help. Nish whimpered and held tight to his covers.

  Jesse was almost angry. “You will die if we don’t get you dried out!” he said in a very firm voice. “Now let go!”

  Once Nish was out of the sleeping bags, Travis could see how much his friend was shaking–and it scared him. His jacket, his pants, everything was absolutely soaking.

  “Off with the clothes!” Jesse commanded.

  “I-I-I’ll freeeeze!”

  “You’ll freeze if you don’t. C’mon. This is no time for modesty. Get ’em off.”

  With Jesse’s help, Nish began taking off his stuff. As each item was removed, Rachel gathered the wet clothing up and carefully hung it to dry on spruce branches she had arranged around the fire.

  Travis was shocked at the sight of his friend. They were in the middle of nowhere, in freezing cold, with an Arctic wind, and Nish stood there naked like a beached whale, almost a blur he shook so badly. Jesse got a dry sleeping bag from the toboggan and gave it to Nish to wrap around himself.

  “Travis,” Jesse called, “break into his pack. Get us some dry clothes.”

  Travis was thankful he finally had something to do. He hurried to the second toboggan and pulled out Nish’s pack. He quickly undid the straps and untied the cord. Then he stopped, blinking in astonishment.

  The pack was filled with candy! Mars bars and Caramilk and Snickers and licorice and bubble gum and Gummi bears and Reeses and Smarties and a six-pack of Coke. All Travis could find for Nish to wear was a fresh pair of boxer shorts and a sweatshirt.

  Travis took the clothes back, holding them out as if he had failed. “This is all he brought.”

  “I-I thought w-we were st-staying only th-the one night!” said Nish.

  Then why bring enough candy for a month? Travis wanted to say, but bit his tongue.

  Jesse shook his head in disgust. “Okay, put ’em on!”

  “P-put what on?”

  “Put ’em on!” Jesse ordered again. There was no mistaking what he meant; he was holding out the boxer shorts. He wasn’t taking no for an answer.

  Whimpering, Nish started to change. He pulled the dry sleeping bag tight and stepped out of his wet shorts, kicking them aside with an alarmingly white foot. Was it frozen?

  “Travis ’n’ me are too small,” Jesse said. “Have you got anything he can wear, Liz?”

  “I’ll check,” Liz said, and hurried to her own pack.

  Nish howled like a dog who’d just had his tail run over. He was halfway up with his dry underwear and the sleeping bag slipped off.

  “I can’t wear girls’ clothes!”

  “Right,” Jesse said. “Then they can all say, ‘Good ol’ Nish–he froze to death like a real man.’”

  “How’s this?” Liz said. She was holding a thick pink sweater, a pair of black tights, some thick socks, and a pair of blue jeans with some beadwork on the back pockets.

  “T-t-tights!” Nish wailed.

  “Put them on,” Rachel said. Even she was losing her patience. “Put them on or freeze your buns off.”

  Nish accepted the bundle. He began to dress, whimpering still; but whether it was because he thought he was going to die from freezing or from embarrassment, Travis could not say.

  Jesse returned to the job of cutting up wood, and Travis went to help him. They cut more logs and stacked them, and Travis gathered more dry branches. The fire was going well.

  “You look lovely!” Rachel said as Nish emerged from his sleeping bag.

  Liz’s clothes didn’t fit quite perfectly, but at least Nish could wear them. The pink sweater was okay, but the pants he couldn’t quite do up, and they could see the tights through the zipper. The beads sparkled in the firelight as Nish warmed his behind.

  Jesse and Rachel still weren’t finished. They pulled another plastic tarp out of the toboggan and used it to make a partial roof over the shelter. On the enclosed side it was now so warm Travis could hardly believe it. Rachel cut down some soft spruce boughs and spread them around so they could sit and not get wet or cold from the snow.

  Nish was no longer shaking. His clothes were steaming beside the fire. The wind was higher now, and rippling loudly along the outside of the plastic tarp.

  “We’re in for a storm,” said Jesse, very quietly.

  “I think so,” answered Rachel.

  Travis didn’t like their near-whispers. It was almost as if they were warning each other, but didn’t want the rest to know. He stared toward the bay. He could see nothing but a blur. It was snowing, hard–and coming their way.

  Jesse shook his head, seemingly angry with himself. “If only I’d packed some food.”

  “There’s nothing?” Rachel asked.

  Jesse shook his head. “I figured we’d get there easily before dark. They’d already have geese.”

  “We’ve got something,” Travis said.

  All heads turned toward him, including Nish, who couldn’t contain a look of alarm.

  “Nish brought his candy,” Travis said.

  Nish stared at him with a look that said: How could you betray your best friend?

  “Let’s have a look,” said Liz.

  Travis hauled out the bag and opened it. Rachel giggled when she saw the enormous cache of sweets. Jesse just shook his head.

  “Stu? like that attracts bears, you know, Nish,” he said.

  “There’s no bears around here, are there?”

  “You better hope not.”

  They had a three-course supper. Licorice as an appetizer, Mars bars and Snickers for the main course, bubble gum for dessert. And all washed down with Coke.

  “We’ll open two cans and share,” said Jesse.

  “I’m not touching it after someone else,” protested Nish.

  “Suit yourself,” said Jesse. “But we have no idea how long we’ll be here.”

  “We can eat snow,” Nish suggested.

  “People die eating snow. You have to melt it first–so save the cans.”

  Travis had never seen this side of Jesse. Usually Jesse hardly said a word; he always let others take the lead and simply followed along. But now he was in charge. Captain, sort of, of the lost team.

  They kept the fire going and talked. Travis asked about Jesse kneeling when he chopped with the axe, and Jesse explained to him that all the Cree did this. “You live in the bush, you can’t take a chance on cutting your foot,” he said. “You’d never get to help in time.”

  Nish was warm finally, and most of his clothes were dry. He wrapped himself up again in the sleeping bag, changed back into his own clothes, and sheepishly handed Liz hers back with an awkward “Thanks.”

  “Any time, cross-dresser,” said Liz.

  Nish squinted and frowned at the same time. “Not one word of this to the others, okay?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Good.”

  “How could one word describe you?”

  They all laughed, until a great burst of wind suddenly hit the shelter and snapped the plastic, bending the poles.

  “It’s really gonna blow,” said Jesse.

  “They’ll be wondering where we are,” said Liz.

  “They’ll know where we are,” said Jesse. He seemed certain.

  Later, Jesse and Rachel got up to arrange the snowmobiles and toboggans so that they gave more shelter as the kids huddled into the best corner of the wall they had built. They were fairly comfortable–out of the wind and sn
ow, each one wrapped in an Arctic sleeping bag, lying on soft boughs over the snow–but they were also miserable, and badly frightened.

  Travis had never seen such a storm. It seemed to howl and pounce like an animal, the air growing eerily quiet and then suddenly rising and punching the tarp so they felt it would rip off and come down on them. But Rachel had done a good job; the tarp held. And Jesse had cut and stacked enough wood for the fire to burn forever.

  But they were still cold. Cold and hungry, despite the chocolate bars and licorice. Travis felt ill from all the sugar. Nish was making funny gurgling noises. Travis realized he was crying, very softly, to himself.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “I lost the Ski-Doo,” Nish said.

  “It’s not important,” Jesse said.

  “It’s my fault,” Nish said.

  “That’s right,” Jesse said. Travis had the sense that this wasn’t what Nish was hoping to hear. “But it would have been my fault if we’d lost you.”

  “And mine,” Rachel added.

  “How?” Nish moaned.

  “We’re responsible for you,” said Jesse.

  “Our grandparents would say you are guests in their home,” said Rachel. “So if something does go wrong, it’s up to us to fix it.”

  “But we’re not in their home, we’re in the middle of the bush,” corrected Travis.

  “This,” she said, “is our grandparents’ home.”

  Muck and Mr. Lindsay were in the band office with Mr. Highboy and Chief Ottereyes. The storm had come up very suddenly–“It happens sometimes,” said the Chief. They had radioed the Highboy goose camp, but the grandparents had seen no sign of the five youngsters yet.

  Both the Chief and Mr. Highboy said not to worry, and didn’t seem particularly worried themselves, but Muck and Mr. Lindsay were definitely worried.

  “Jesse knows what to do,” Mr. Highboy kept saying. “Jesse and Rachel know the bush.”

  Abraham and Hilda Highboy had known the storm was on its way since shortly after noon. Abraham had heard the wind in the high trees and knew. They considered radioing the village to let them know, but it was Rachel and Jesse coming out. They’d be okay.