Worthy of Riches

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Worthy of Riches Page 8

by Bonnie Leon


  “Jed! Jed!” Ray called. “Come on, boy!” He waited, but the dog didn't return.

  “Was that him?” one of the men asked. “Was that the devil?”

  Ray grabbed the unlit end of a burning branch, and holding it up, headed toward the woods. Peering into the darkness beyond the light of his makeshift torch, he hollered, “Jed. Get back here! Jed!” Barking, the dog continued his pursuit. Then they heard a yelp and another yelp. Suddenly the forest turned quiet. “Jed!” The cracking of underbrush carried through the night air as the bear retreated.

  Ray stood for a long time, torch above his head. Finally he returned to the campfire. “It was him. He doubled back on us. He's a devil, all right. We're lucky to be alive.” He tossed his torch into the flames. “Fool dog.” He sat on a log. “I'll keep watch,” he said, his voice sad.

  Will slept fitfully, his dreams filled with images of a dead calf, a bloodied sow, and Jean standing in the doorway of their house. Her face was etched with worry, and tears wet her cheeks. Will wanted to tell her that everything would be all right, but in his gut he wasn't sure. He was afraid. The bear was hiding, waiting for him. He knew it. He had to stay alert and watchful, but all he could see was blackness! He could hear footfalls!

  Will startled awake and for a moment lay perfectly still, trying to drag himself away from the nightmare. The sky was alight, but the men were sleeping, all except Ray. He stood at the edge of the clearing with a scruffy-looking Jed sitting beside him. The bear hadn't gotten the best of him, although it was clear he'd tangled with the monster.

  Will sat up and scrubbed his face with his hands. His eyes rested on Ray, who stared out into the forest, his expression resolute. Will knew he was thinking about the grizzly and that he was more determined than ever to get him.

  The hunting party was up and moving early and on the bear's trail. Jed limped but managed to keep up. They were closing in. The tracks were fresh. Only now, the animal had circled around the men and they had become the prey.

  “It's time to turn the tables on him,” Ray said. “Time to get that devil.” He climbed off his horse and tied him to a tree. Everyone else dismounted. “I want you to divide into twos,” he said. “We'll round him up.”

  “You think we ought to go into that thick underbrush?” Joe asked, his face white.

  “We've no choice. We can't wait for him. He's not going to show himself, and after what happened last night, we can't wait.” He pointed south. “There's a ridge that runs along there. Frank and I will head west and circle around. You two, Mike and Jim, you come around the other way. We'll get this bear in a pickle and flush him out.” Without even looking at Will, he headed into the woods.

  Will was left on his own. He hesitated, not knowing which way to go. He felt anxiety well up, then told himself, I know a thing or two about hunting. He headed into heavy foliage, following Ray's path. The musty smell of earth and vegetation assailed him. He couldn't see well, but still he moved on, stopping frequently to listen. The buzz of insects, chirping birds, and squawking of squirrels were the only sounds he could hear.

  Keeping his rifle at his hip, the safety off, and his finger on the trigger, he pushed through the brush, hoping the bear would be between him and Ray Townsend. He knew the bear was close. He could sense it. More than once he thought he heard the grunt or pant of an animal. Although he couldn't see, he continued, driven by a sense of urgency. He had to get that bear.

  Chapter 8

  EVERY NERVE BRISTLING, WILL MOVED THROUGH HEAVY BRUSH. HE COULDN'T shake the sense that he was being tracked. He stopped and listened. Nothing stirred. Even the raucous cries of cranky jays had ceased. Will smelled the air but detected only the scent of evergreen and earth.

  He pushed on, his feet catching in a tangle of ferns, dead leaves, and cranberry bushes as he moved through aspens and willows wrangling with spruce for ground. Skirting a large devil's club, he nearly plunged down a steep embankment. Regaining his balance, he studied a ravine veiled by the heavy greenery. His eyes took in the upper ridge, searching for man or beast. He saw neither.

  Suddenly the crackle of underbrush fractured the air. Off to his right, something crashed through the foliage. Rocks and dirt spilled down the gorge wall, followed by a tumbling body. Cries of pain and cursing accompanied the man. It was Ray Townsend. He didn't stop until he reached the bottom, then lay still, looking like a pile of limbs, boots, and clothing.

  Forgetting about the grizzly for the moment, Will started down. Ray lay too still, too quiet. Keeping his body parallel to the hill, Will moved as quickly as he could, planting his feet in loose dirt and rocks and using vines and branches for handholds.

  By the time he reached the bottom, he was out of breath and his thighs ached, but he sprinted to Ray. He felt for a heartbeat. It was strong and steady. Will carefully disentangled the man's limbs and rolled him to his back. Ray moaned. Brushing away dirt and leaves, Will quickly scanned his body. He didn't see any obvious injuries. “Ray? You all right?”

  The big man opened his eyes and blinked, then spit dirt. “I think so.” He pushed up on one arm and bent his leg. “Ahh,” he hollered, grabbing his knee. “I think it's broke.”

  “Let me take a look.” Will pulled out his hunting knife and cut open the pant leg. The knee was already swollen, and the leg above and below had begun to turn dark blue. He resheathed his knife. “You might be right. It doesn't look good.” He leaned back slightly. “Can you stand?”

  Grimacing, Ray pushed himself into a sitting position, then tried to rise. Letting out a cry, he crumpled back to the ground. Beads of sweat dotting his face, he closed his eyes. “I can't walk.”

  Will studied the landscape. Steep walls reached up on two sides, and a narrow gorge stretched ahead and behind. “Getting you out of here isn't going to be easy.”

  The sounds of splintering underbrush came from the ridge, and rocks and dirt skittered down the bank. Both men's eyes went to the crest and moved along the rim. Ray whispered, “I'd like to know where that bear is.”

  A surge of alarm swept through Will. He'd forgotten about the grizzly. “It's probably one of the men.” He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, “Hey, anyone up there?” He received no reply. A branch cracked and bushes moved. “Who's up there?” No answer. Fear moved in. “We better get you out of here. I'll have to haul you up.”

  “And how do you propose to do that? It's a steep climb, and I ain't no sack of potatoes.”

  “Where's Frank? You started off together.”

  “He headed toward the other ridge.” Ray searched the ground around him, then scanned the slope where he'd fallen. “You seen my rifle?”

  Will made a quick search but didn't find the gun. “No telling where it is,” he said. “We'll just have to go without it.”

  “I paid good money for it, and I'm not leaving without it.” He made another visual search.

  Concealing his frustration, Will looked again. When he didn't find it, he said as calmly as he could, “It could have ended up in a lot of places, and we don't have time to look. We've got to get you out of here. You need a doctor.”

  “Just hightail it. Find someone to help.”

  “Good idea, except you don't have a rifle, and I'm not about to leave without mine.”

  “You have a point.” Again Ray scanned the hillside. “So, how do we get out?”

  “Looks like it might be easier going along there.” Will pointed toward a slope with a gentler grade. He handed his rifle to Ray. “I'll have to carry you. You can hang on to the gun.” He thought for a moment. “This is going to take teamwork, and it's gonna' hurt—”

  “Pain ain't new to me. Just tell me what you want me to do,” Ray snapped.

  Will silently prayed for patience. With half a smile, he said, “Like you said, you're not a small man. I need you to push yourself up with your good leg so I can get my shoulder under your gut.”

  “You're literally going to carry me?” Ray asked incredulously.


  Will grinned. “You have another idea?”

  Ray didn't answer.

  “You'd be surprised what farming can do for a man's strength,” Will said, grabbing hold of Ray's arm. “Come on, let's get to it. I don't much like the idea of becoming bear fodder.”

  To a tirade of cussing and groans, Will slung Ray over his shoulders. Bent beneath the weight, he started up the embankment. “Feels like you ought to lay off those extra flapjacks and syrup.”

  “Maybe you should keep your mouth shut and walk.”

  Tempted to dump his load, Will kept moving. “Just hang on to my gun and keep quiet.” Will thought he heard a chuckle from Ray.

  A low snarl accompanied by the sound of splintering twigs and cracking brush resonated from above. “He's up there,” Ray said. “Just waitin' for us.”

  Will stopped. “Maybe it's something else.”

  “It's not.” Ray swung the rifle around. “He could come out of there at any moment, and I can't shoot from this position. You better set me down.”

  Bending at the knees, Will lowered Ray to the ground. He took the gun and pulled on the lever. It was jammed. He tried again. “It's stuck.”

  “Should have known,” Ray growled. “Give me that thing.” Will handed him the gun. “You farmers don't know the first thing about what really matters. Don't you know you gotta keep your rifle in good shape? You gotta be able to count on it.” He struggled to release the bolt. “Looks like the workings are rusted.”

  “It's old. It belonged to my father.”

  “Why didn't you get another one?”

  “I have a newer one at home, but I left it for Luke. That gun's been fine for years.”

  Hands trembling, Ray worked on the rifle. He pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. Shaking his head, he said, “We're dead.” More snapping of twigs and brush rose from the ridge. He followed the sounds with his eyes. “He's checking us out. Wants to make sure we're easy pickings.” He glowered at Will. “Which we are.”

  Will's pulse climbed. He grabbed the gun, pulled on the lever again, then the trigger, then lever. It was still jammed. Finally he handed it to Ray. “S'pose you could use it as a club.” He searched for a heavy branch. When he found one, he picked it up and swung it several times. “This will have to do.”

  “You think that's going to stop a grizzly?” Ray asked derisively. “You're more of a fool than I thought.”

  “David brought down Goliath with a sling and a rock.”

  Ray scowled.

  Rocks tumbled down from straight above them, then the sounds of stirring brush and cracking limbs moved along the ridge. Will's pulse raced, and his stomach felt tight. He knew they were in trouble. “Father, we need your help. Do what needs to be done.”

  “If I were you, I'd be on my way,” Ray said nonchalantly. “Leave me. At least that way one of us has a chance.”

  Will ignored him. “Let's keep moving. Sounds like whatever's making that racket is heading away. Maybe he'll leave us be.” Still gripping the heavy branch, Will hoisted Ray onto his shoulders. Ray held the useless gun. One agonizing step at a time, they made their way up the slope, keeping their eyes trained on the place where the rocks and debris had come from.

  The forest was silent, as if holding its breath.

  His face and body saturated with sweat and every muscle screaming under the strain, Will scrambled over the top and gently lowered Ray to the ground at the foot of a spruce. “Do you think you could climb if you had to?”

  Searching the forest, Ray said, “If I could have, I would have, and you wouldn't have had to carry me up that hill.” His eyes continued to move over the brush. His voice low, he added, “He's close. I can feel him.”

  Will stood with his back to Ray and faced the brush. A moment later the big cinnamon-colored bear broke through a clump of willows and charged. Will swung the club at the animal and hollered. “Hah! Get out of here! Go on bear!”

  The animal veered off, then stopped and studied the two men, his nose twitching. He stood on hind legs, then with a huff, dropped to all fours.

  Will's heart beat hard and fast. This was a big animal, probably close to eight hundred pounds. His eyes rested on its huge paws and five-inch claws, then traveled to the animal's vicious-looking teeth. The branch would be no defense. He could climb a tree, maybe save himself. He looked at Ray and knew he couldn't do it. How could he abandon any man, even one as vile as Ray Townsend?

  “You want to go, so go. Save yourself,” Ray said. “There's not much time, and I'm not worth dying for.”

  “I'm not leaving you.” Will raised the club and waved it at the animal. “Hah! Go on! Get out of here!”

  Swinging its head from side to side, the bear paced back and forth and moved closer. “Go on! Get!” Will took a few steps toward the grizzly.

  The animal didn't back away, and his small dark eyes watched Will. With a snarl, he charged. Will and Ray both shouted, raising their feeble weapons. Unbelievably, the bear veered off again. Will began to hope they had a chance. Maybe the brute was more bark than bite. He glared at the animal, hoping he looked intimidating. “What do you think he's going to do?”

  “He's gonna come at us again.” Ray held a knife in his hand. He looked at it and smirked. “Probably won't do much good, but I'll be hanged if I'm going to just let him make a carcass out of me.”

  “Where are Mike and Joe? They can't be far off.”

  “Hard to tell. There's a lot of ways they could have headed.” He shrugged. “Holler for them.”

  Will cupped his hands around his mouth. “Frank! Mike! Joe! Where are you?” He listened, keeping an eye on the bear pacing a few yards away.

  “Here!” came a call. “I'm coming!”

  “That sounded like Frank,” Will said. “He'll be here.” Hurry!

  His coat glistening, the bear snapped his jaws, then swiped the air with a heavy paw. He circled the two men.

  “Hurry, Frank!” Will shouted. He remembered Jean's dream. Had it been a vision? I'm sorry, Jean, he thought, envisioning her amber eyes and warm smile. Lord if this goes bad, please watch over my family.

  Without warning, the bear ran at the two. Will raised his club. In a matter of seconds the bear was on him. He managed to hit the grizzly across the face before the animal tore into him. With a roar, he knocked the branch away like a twig.

  Blood ran into Will's eyes, but he felt no pain. He backed away. The bear kept coming at him. It took a swipe at his arm, and hot pain shot through his shoulder and across his chest. The arm hung useless.

  “Hit the ground! Play dead!” Ray yelled.

  Will did as he was told. Using his good arm, he pulled the injured limb in close to his body, then draped the arm over his head. He lay still, barely breathing. His pulse hammered through his body. Blood stained the ground. The bear batted him a few times, then sniffed him. Will remained motionless.

  All of a sudden, a stabbing pain knifed him in the side. The grizzly bit into him, lifted him, and shook. “Ahhh,” Will screamed. Then the bear let loose, and Will hit the ground. He hugged the earth, feeling it was his only refuge. Then he remembered his true refuge was in the Father, and his terror lifted.

  Will's thoughts turned to his family. They needed him. He had to fight; he had to try. The animal sniffed at his prey and took hold of the bad arm. In one swift move, Will rolled onto his back and swung his good arm at the bear's face, bringing his fist down on the animal's snout. At the same time, a boom echoed. The bear released Will, and he lay on the ground panting, his cheek resting against the cool earth. The animal ran. Another blast resounded, and the bear fell. Will closed his eyes. The bear was finally dead.

  The next thing Will heard was Frank's voice. “Will?” He felt himself being rolled over. “God almighty.”

  Ray crawled to Will and lifted him, cradling him as he would a child. “Why did you do it?” His eyes were confused and guilt-ridden. “Why?”

  “Do what?” Will asked with a wheeze.

 
“You could have saved yourself.”

  “You would … have … done the same.” Will struggled for breath. Pain burned through his middle.

  “No.” Ray shook his head. “I wouldn't have. I wouldn't have.” Tears washed into his eyes.

  Will could feel the life leaving him. He glanced down at himself. His clothing was blood-soaked. He was dying.

  “We'll get you out of here,” Frank said. “You'll be all right.”

  Will gave the man a smile. “Thanks for getting here.”

  “I came as fast as I could. I'm sorry it wasn't sooner.”

  Will's eyes found Ray's. “Look after my family.”

  “Don't even talk that way. You're going to be fine. I've seen men torn up worse than this who made it. You got to hang on.” Ray glanced at the blood oozing from Will's stomach. “Just hang on,” he repeated more quietly.

  “It's all right. I know where I'm going. I'm not afraid.”

  “You're not dying. You can't. We've got differences to mend. We're not done with our business, yet.” His voice softened, and he added, “Please live.”

  “It's not your fault… I stayed … because I wanted to.”

  “I can't figure out why. I'm not worth it. We were enemies.”

  “I never hated you.” Will closed his eyes and groaned. It was getting harder to breathe. He looked at Ray. “God … has a life … for you to live. Live it.”

  “He has one for you too.”

  “Yep—but not here.” He grimaced and swallowed. His strength was leaving him. “Jean. She's going to need help. And … Luke …”

  “Don't give up. We'll get you to the doc.”

  Will's strength was gone and so was the pain. His body went limp.

  “No!” Ray almost shouted. “You can't die!”

  “Tell Jean I love her. Tell her I'm sorry.”

  Will stopped breathing. Stunned, Ray didn't move but stared at the man who had been his enemy. “I never meant for anything like this to happen. I just wanted you out of the valley. I just wanted …” Truth spilled over him. This man wasn't his enemy. He had never been his enemy. He hadn't deserved Will's mercy. His bitterness and hatred were swept away, and shame engulfed him.

 

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