Suddenly, his grin disappeared. Oh no, what if Pederson were unconscious instead? He sprang up and raced over to check. The old man’s face was almost as white as the enamel dipper hanging on the wall. His fever was gone. In fact, he felt almost cool to the touch. And his gurgling breaths scared Daniel. He had to do something. He could still hear the wind howling outside, so going anywhere was out of the question. If only he could remember what his grandmother did when his grandfather had bad chest colds. Of course, a mustard plaster.
He searched the shelves, then rummaged through the cupboard until he found dry mustard and a small bag of flour. He had no idea what proportions to use, but he mixed the dry ingredients with water until they felt pasty, like papier mâché, and spread it over a handkerchief that he found in a drawer. Then he set it on Pederson’s bare chest and kept checking to make sure the skin wasn’t getting too red, just like he remembered his grandmother doing. Once he removed the hankie a few minutes later, he found another quilt in the cupboard and tucked it tight up around Pederson’s neck.
Both dogs were whining at the door by then, so he pried it open to let them out. As he did, a huge mound of snow that had been packed against the door fell into the room. The blizzard was still gusting, throwing ice crystals into his face. There was no way in the world he could go home in that. Even the dogs hesitated before creeping out. He swept out the snow and slammed the door shut after them, before going to look for some breakfast for himself.
He was just spreading some Saskatoon berry jam that he’d found onto a thick slice of bread, when the whining and scratchings of the dogs drew him back to the door. They were covered in snow, their coats matted with ice. Both settled down beside the stove to dry off. Pederson continued to sleep.
Once Daniel finished eating he began to inspect the contents of the cabin a little more closely. His attention was caught by the set of texts on the top of the bookshelf. They were scientific books on geology, paleontology, and archaeology. He drew one down. It was more technical and harder to read than his own books. He pulled a few more down, and then he noticed a stack of magazines. He grabbed several and sat down at the table to look through them. Most had no pictures, just articles. As hard to read as the text books. On one back cover, he noticed the address label: Dr. O. I. B. Pederson.
The old man was a doctor of some kind – probably paleontology. That’s what Daniel wanted to be – an expert! But why would a little disagreement at one museum make him want to live here like a hermit? Weren’t there other museums? Or was he really just retired? The thought puzzled him as he flipped through more of the magazines, but he found no answers. While searching the shelves, he did find a dog-eared herbal remedy book that Mr. Pederson obviously used in conjunction with his collection of dried flowers and plants.
Throughout the morning, the blizzard still raged outside. Whenever Daniel opened the door to peer into the hazy bleakness he was met with buffeting winds and blowing snow. The windows had long since been covered in hoarfrost and the drifts reached more than halfway up the side of the cabin walls. Daniel, Pederson, and the dogs were snug enough inside. The wood box was full, and although the power was still out there were plenty of candles, a couple of flashlights, and a kerosene lamp.
What concerned Daniel most was the thought of his parents worrying about him, but there was nothing he could do to let them know he was safe. It would be foolish to venture out. He sure didn’t want to be lost in the storm again. He’d just have to wait it out!
Every once in a while, he wondered what Jed was doing. Had Daniel’s parents called Jed’s family to join in the search? Jed would sure think he was dumb to get caught in a blizzard.
Later, he wrestled with Dactyl and Bear. The two dogs play-growled at one another from time to time, but otherwise seemed to be getting along fine.
When he got tired of looking through the books and magazines, Daniel ventured over to the table full of bones. Some of them were labelled. Taking a peek to see that Pederson’s eyes were closed, he gently picked a relic up and examined it. As he set it down carefully again, he noticed a large fragment of rock with the rippled fossilized remains of an eggshell. He quivered with excitement at what he held in his hand, and at what lay in the ground only a few yards away. Now all he had to do was make sure Pederson got better, then convince him to speak up. He didn’t know which was the bigger challenge.
He tended Pederson throughout the day, laying damp cloths on his brow, brewing various teas and helping him to the jerry can whenever necessary. As time progressed, his colour looked more normal and he seemed to rest easier, although he still had the hacking cough. By mid-afternoon he felt well enough to sit up when Daniel brought him some scrambled eggs and bread to eat.
“Where did you learn to cook?”
“I’ve known how to cook for ages – ever since I was young. My mom believes it’s important for a guy to learn, too. It’s not just up to the women these days you know.”
“That’s good advice, young fella, and these are mighty good eggs,” said Pederson in a hoarse whisper. Once he had finished eating, he handed Daniel the almost empty plate. “That’s all I can manage.”
Daniel fed the leftovers to the dogs, and returned the plate to the table. Pederson settled back onto his pillow and drew the blankets up around his chin. “Tell me again about your problem with your farm. And don’t leave anything out.”
So Daniel explained the circumstances as best as he could, including his dad’s meetings with the bank, and Pederson listened with closed eyes, nodding once in awhile.
“I really want to stay here,” Daniel concluded. “And that’s why I came over the other day. I really need to be able to prove that there are dinosaurs here to convince my dad that he has to keep this land.”
“Ah, I understand, lad. And I’m sorry, I can’t help you. Now is just not the right time to announce the discovery.”
“I see.” Daniel sat with his head hung for a few moments, disappointed with Pederson’s response, trying to respect his need for privacy. But it didn’t seem fair. He got up and walked over to the stove, where he stoked the fire and threw in another log.
A few moments elapsed. “Ah, sir?” he asked hesitantly.
“Yes.”
“I know you want to keep your discovery quiet for awhile, but I just don’t understand exactly why.”
“Well for starters, I’d like to finish the dig myself. I don’t want any outside interference,” said Pederson, coughing into his handkerchief. “There’d be swarms of people hovering around.”
“Maybe we could stop that happening by just not letting anyone on your land,” Daniel suggested.
“No, there’s always somebody who wants special access or sneaks in,” Pederson rasped.
Daniel nodded in defeat. Suddenly he noticed the stack of magazines on the table. “Sir,” he asked, feeling a little guilty that he hadn’t put them away. “I, ah, was looking in those magazines, and I saw your name on the label. What does O. I. B. stand for?”
“My parents named me Olaf Ingmar Borje Pederson,” he answered with a grimace, “After both my grandfathers.”
“That’s quite a mouthful,” said Daniel, and they both laughed.
“So, you’re a doctor?”
“Yes, of paleontology,” Pederson admitted. He blew his nose before continuing. “I’ve worked for various museums, but I was fed up with all the red tape and the runaround. I wanted to spend time on this area of research and the directors wanted to spend the museum’s money on other things. We just didn’t see eye to eye,” he explained. Then he went into a coughing fit, and Daniel rushed to get him some water.
After he’d had a drink, Daniel helped him back to his bed, where he dozed off again with a disturbing rattle in his chest with each breath he took. Daniel hovered over him anxiously for a while, and then resumed his study of the bones and fossils.
By late afternoon the ferocity of the storm seemed to have let up and Daniel peered out. There was still light snow ed
dying around, but he decided it should be safe for him to go home. The only thing was, he couldn’t leave Pederson behind. He was still too sick. He went to wake him.
“You have to come with me,” Daniel insisted. “I can’t leave you here.”
But looking the frail man over, Daniel wondered how they could make it.
“I can’t walk that far, lad,” Pederson said weakly from the bed. “I’d just be a burden to you.”
“We’ll figure out something. Let me look around.” Daniel debated about the best way as he donned his outside gear. If only he had Gypsy. Or the snowmobile.
The dogs got excited and started barking and bouncing around when they realized Daniel was heading out. They almost knocked him over in the commotion. Trying to restrain them, the answer struck him.
“Do you have a toboggan of some sort?” he quizzed Pederson.
The old man thought for a moment. “Yes, I do,” he replied. “An old one. It should be leaning against the side of the cabin.” He gasped for breath. “But you’ll have to dig for it.”
“Not a problem,” said Daniel, going to the door.
“Wait, young man. You can’t possibly pull me that whole distance,” Pederson croaked out.
Daniel grinned. “I don’t have to.” He pointed to the dogs.
Pederson smiled back, as he tried to catch his breath. “I’ve used Bear for that kind of thing in the past, but I don’t know how the two of them will be together.”
“We’ll find out!”
Daniel stepped outside and staggered through the deep bank to the side of the cabin. He found a stick and began knocking the snow away from a pile of old boards. With a little effort and a few hard tugs, he managed to drag the toboggan from the bottom of the pile and over to the door. Then he searched for ropes or anything else he figured would work as a harness for the dogs.
When he went back inside, Pederson was sitting up pulling on a second pair of socks. The effort made him breathe heavily. Daniel grabbed the blankets, the sleeping bag, and a pillow. Then taking an old cloth off the fossil table, he wrapped a flashlight, a candle, and some matches, and hauled everything outside. He spread one blanket out on the toboggan, then the sleeping bag and the pillow. He placed the other wrapped package at the bottom of the sleeping bag.
Then he went back for Pederson, pulling him up gently from the bed and helping him bundle into his parka and mitts. He made sure he had his heart pills. Then together they staggered outside, but the exertion caused Pederson to go into a bout of coughing.
Daniel helped him onto the toboggan, then zipped him into the sleeping bag. He realized he also needed to secure him, because he was seriously weakened and not able to hold on. He ran back into the cabin and found another rope. He tied it around the old man’s middle to hold him in place, then laid the second blanket over him.
“Wait, just a minute,” Pederson sputtered. “A compass. We’ll need that. There’s one on the corner of the table with the fossils.”
Daniel nodded and ran back into the shack to get it. He stuffed it into his jacket pocket, turned down the stove, and closed the door securely behind him. By now, it had started to snow again and the wind had picked up. They’d have to hurry.
Quickly, Daniel hooked up Dactyl, and then, after a bit of persuasion, Bear. He led them forward, dropping back to check on Pederson as they jolted ahead. The two dogs seemed eager to get on with their venture, and although they collided a few times at the beginning, they managed to drag the weight of their cargo. Pederson lay quietly with his hat pulled down around his eyes, as they bumped along the rough snow-covered terrain.
As they travelled, the sky darkened, and the wind blew stronger. Daniel encouraged the dogs to keep moving.
“We’ll have to hurry, the storm is getting strong again,” Daniel yelled back to Pederson, who nodded wearily without opening his eyes.
Daniel continued to lead the dogs over the hills towards his farm, but darkness was falling and the snow was really coming down now. He stopped at what he thought was the crest of a hill, and pulled out the compass. He tapped it.
“What’s wrong?” Pederson coughed and sputtered.
“I can’t see where I’m going,” Daniel replied. “I don’t know where I am for sure. There’s something wrong with the compass.” He tapped it again.
Pederson tried to talk, but the wind took his breath away and brought on another coughing fit. Daniel bundled the blanket to cover Pederson’s face as best he could, and started forward again. He felt the edge of panic creeping into the pit of his stomach. It was almost totally dark. Suddenly, as the wind gusted and snow swirled about them, he knew they were lost.
“Now what’ll we do?” He looked back at Pederson, but the old man seemed unaware of what was happening.
“Oh, man. Why’d you have to go limp on me?” Daniel moaned to himself. He had to make a decision. “I’ve got to get you off here. We need shelter.”
He unhooked the dogs, and began digging into the side of a hill. He had just started to attack the snowdrift when all of a sudden he heard the roar of a distant Ski-Doo. He began to jump up and down, waving his arms.
“We’re here,” he yelled. “We’re over here. Help! We’re here.”
Light from the snowmobile shone dimly in the distance. Daniel yelled even more frantically and the dogs barked, but to no avail. The howling wind made it impossible for anyone to hear them. Abruptly, the Ski-Doo disappeared. In a few moments, even the sound was gone. Daniel sank to his knees. His eyes stung with tears of frustration.
But after a minute, he rose and went back to his desperate burrowing. There was no door this time, though. When he’d managed to carve out a little hollow, he untied Pederson, and gently nudged him.
“Mr. Pederson. Mr. Pederson.” Daniel began shaking him, but got no response. He huddled close to the old man, with his arm around him, trying to keep them both warm. The dogs burrowed into the hole as close as they could to the two of them. A full-blown blizzard raged about them.
“Geez, we can’t just stay here. I have to get help,” Daniel gasped. “Can’t leave you. What are we going to do?”
Chapter Eleven
Daniel began piling snow around Pederson, trying to keep him warm. Again, he thought he could hear the intermittent sound of a snowmobile in the distance. When he stood up he could momentarily see faint shapes moving. Quickly, he found the flashlight and switched it on. Then he started to yell and jump up and down, as he waved the light. He ran in the direction of the sound, which seemed to be coming closer. Then he saw a flickering glimmer through the snow.
He waved the flashlight and screamed hysterically, “Help! We’re over here. Help!”
Suddenly, a snowmobile appeared, right in front of him. He had to jump out of the way. Dad! Daniel leapt into his arms as the dogs danced in frenzied circles around them.
“Thank God, I found you!” said Dad, hugging him tight. “Let’s get you home.”
“No wait, Dad. It’s Mr. Pederson. He’s sick. He’s over there.”
Dad followed as he struggled through the storm to where Pederson lay in the carved-out snowdrift. Together they lifted and half-carried him to the machine. With numb fingers, Daniel helped Dad secure Pederson on board, using a length of rope from the toboggan. Then Daniel climbed onto the seat behind him. Dad tugged his cellphone from his pocket and tried calling the other searchers.
He yelled into the crackling phone. “Doug? Doug, I’ve found him.” He waited. “I’ve got Pederson, too. Doug?” He listened again. “Yeah. He’s sick.” He nodded. “Okay. Please let Libby know. Okay, see you soon.”
Daniel’s dad squeezed on board in front of Pederson, made sure everyone was secure, then revved the motor. Slowly, they started making their way across country, but the thick snow made it difficult to see as the wind blustered around them.
All at once, Dad stopped and turned to Daniel. He shouted over the idling engine and wind, “With this load we aren’t making very good time. And visibil
ity is almost zero.” He shook his head. “We’re going to have to find shelter and wait out the storm.”
Daniel nodded, then he thought he made out the clinking of cans and bones between gusts. They must be near his hideout! Very near! He tapped Dad on the back.
“Right there! I know a place.” Daniel pointed in the direction of the sound. “Hear it?”
Dad nodded, and idled down the motor until they were barely crawling along. He stopped to listen. Moments later, they reached Daniel’s hideout.
Daniel jumped off the snowmobile and fought against the storm to clear the opening. The dogs scampered inside as Daniel and his dad struggled to help Pederson. His dad crawled in first, wrapped his arms around the old man’s chest, and pulled, while Daniel pushed from behind. At last, they all collapsed into the silent, safe darkness.
“I’ll light a candle as soon as I catch my breath,” said Daniel, flopping onto his back and stretching out onto the floor of the cavern. His body was cramped and cold.
Pederson lay still, except for the heaving of his chest and another coughing fit that overtook him. Daniel crawled over to his stash of candles and matches and before long he had a couple lit. Then he brushed out the little pile of snow that had fallen in the roof opening. The dogs explored the cave, while his dad went back out to the snowmobile.
Then Dad dragged in blankets and a thermos. When he opened the container, a waft of hot chocolate hit Daniel’s nose and his stomach rumbled. Dad offered him some, but he shook his head and pointed instead to Pederson.
“Give it to him. I’ll get some wood and we can light a fire.”
While Dad made Pederson more comfortable and gave him a cupful of the hot chocolate, Daniel crawled outside for suitable firewood. He dragged some branches into the cave, then tried breaking them into little pieces, but they were wet. He scanned his hideout, looking over his collection of antlers, coffee tins full of rocks, and other treasures, but there didn’t seem to be anything that would make good kindling.
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