“Beth, we should spoon.”
Her eyes went wide. “I’m not kissing you!”
“I mean lay with your back against my chest. Like two matching spoons.”
She didn’t move.
“This is not romance. This is survival. It’s cold enough to be the death of us. My father’s a doctor and I’ve seen what happens to frozen body parts. We need to combine our body heat.”
She hesitantly turned on her side. He positioned his body against hers. After thirty minutes she still shivered. Jonah opened his coat, wrapped as much of it as he could around her and pulled her tight against him. Beth reached for his arm and pulled it around her. Over the next half-hour, her shivering subsided and she slept.
* * *
The following morning, Beth woke realizing her hands no longer hurt but her feet throbbed. She heard the sound of chewing. Looking over her shoulder at Jonah, he held out a piece of pemmican.
“Grandpa’s recipe. Venison, nuts and blueberries. I never met him but Grandma taught me how to make this.”
“Chewy.”
“Yes, but not bad when it’s boiled into stew.”
“I’m thirsty. I should eat some snow.”
“Eat snow and your body cools off. You’ll be shivering in no time. Here.” He pulled a whiskey bottle out of his coat. “I found this near the caboose.”
“Whiskey?”
“I poured out the whisky, continually stuffed it with snow and kept it inside my jacket. The heat leaving my body melted the snow.”
She pulled out the cork and drank some.
“Still tastes a little whiskey-ish.”
“Take a good drink. We’ll need it climbing this mountain.”
“Think the weather’s cleared?”
“An hour ago it wasn’t snowing but still mostly cloudy and windy. Sun, what there is of it, came up an hour ago. We should try to head for the cabin.”
They strapped on the backboards and climbed the mountain toward the cabin.
“This is like continually climbing stairs,” she complained. “And my feet are killing me.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine: The Cabin
They stopped four times to rest before they arrived at the cabin. A pile of neatly stacked logs placed against the outside of the cabin were sheltered by the little building’s extended eve.
“The door’s nailed shut,” Beth yelled to Jonah while he examined the wood pile..
“That’s to keep bears out. Look for a hammer or nail puller around the entrance.”
She brushed snow off an area next to the door and found a twelve-inch-nail-puller. Beth worked the nails loose and entered the cabin whose wood floor was roughly ten-by-twelve. A small pot-bellied stove sat in one corner with a box of kindling next to it. A table with a bench and two chairs occupied the other. A feather mattress was rolled up at the far end of the table. Jonah entered after removing the shutter from a small window. He walked to the stove and opened it.
“Ready for a fire. I better make sure the chimney’s clear.”
“Someone left it like that?” Beth asked.
“When we leave, we’ll do the same. First thing when anyone arrives at a cabin is starting a fire. I’ll do that now. Why don’t you take this pot and fill it with snow? Soon as the stove’s warm we’ll have water. Don’t go far from the cabin. There’s likely wolves around.”
She took the pot from his hand and stared at him.
“What?”
“I’m a city girl. Never lived anywhere else.” She gave him a warm smile. “Good thing I got stranded with a country boy.”
“It was your idea to use the boards to cross the trestle. I didn’t think of that…and you dug me out or I’d have died.” His brow furrowed as he turned back to the stove. “We’re not out of this yet.”
By the time she returned, he was replacing a burner plate. Beth placed the snow filled pot on the stove. He reached for an oil lamp, checked to see that it contained fuel and used the end of a burning stick to light it. Jonah hung it from a wall hook. “I’m going to chop more wood. We’ll need more then this pile to get us through the night.” He stopped to stare at the front corner of the cabin. Jonah pointed at three sets of snowshoes. “We’ll use those to get back down the mountain.”
Beth walked a few steps and grimaced. “Country Boy, my feet hurt like hell.”
“Maybe they’re wet. Dry them, get them warm and let me know if they still hurt.”
Sharp pains shot up Beth’s legs as she gingerly removed her shoes and socks. She sucked in her breath. Three toes on her right foot and four on the left were black. Walking on her heels, she pulled the quilt out of Jonah’s bag, then moved both chairs near the stove; wrapped herself in the quilt, sat on one chair and placed her exposed feet on the other close to the rapidly warming stove.
The wood cracked and popped. Jonah entered with an armload of kindling. He took one look at her feet and cursed.
“What?” Beth asked.
“Black means dead tissue.”
“My toes won’t recover?”
“They have to be amputated.”
Her eyes widened and the color left her face as she spat out, “No. You’re crazy! Not going to happen!”
“If we don’t, the black tissue can poison your whole body and kill you.”
She slowly shook her head then wrapped the quilt tight around her. “I won’t let…you won’t. I saved your life and this is how I’m repaid?”
“Blood poisoning is a painful way to die.”
She began trembling.
“You want to die here?”
Again, she slowly shook her head. A tear rolled down her cheek.
“Then they have to come off.”
“How?”
“Quickest way would be the ax.”
“What if you miss? You could chop my whole foot off.”
“I’ll hold the ax near its head. It won’t take much motion.”
More tears rolled down her cheeks. “Is there nothing else you can do?”
He shook his head. “It’s going to hurt like hell and I’ve nothing to deaden your pain.”
Beth looked at the ceiling. “Why?” she pleaded. “Am I being punished for living a life of thievery? What else could I have done?” She put her hands on her face and wept.
He put an arm around her. Beth composed herself then pushed his arm away. “If you’re sure there’s no alternative…”
“I’m the son of a doctor. I’ve seen this before and there’s nothing else.”
“Then do what you need to.”
He went to his bag and removed the emergency medical pack William had provisioned for him. Jonah dropped it in her lap and walked outside to get the ax. Returning, he kneeled at her side. He cleaned the ax and the front of Beth’s feet. “Put your feet flat on the floor. Keep your jaw closed so you don’t bite your tongue.”
She wiped a tear away. “Get it over with.”
“Close your eyes and keep them closed. I’ll tell you when to open them.”
Beth screamed when the ax dropped. Jonah did some things which seemed to painfully poke at her foot. She screamed anew when the ax dropped a second time. The poking pain followed as well.
“You can open your eyes now.”
Beth saw her feet neatly wrapped in bandages.
Jonah wiped tears out of his eyes.
She asked, “You in pain?”
“I know how much pain I just caused you.”
She opened her arms. He held her firmly. Beth kissed his cheek.
“I’ll open the mattress. You should rest.” He unrolled it. “Sheepskin and an elk hide inside. You’ll be warm with this over you. Still wrapped in the quilt, Beth tried to stand but moaned when putting weight on her feet. Jonah scooped her up and gently placed her on the now cushioned table. He pulled the sheep skin over her.
A few hours later Beth opened her eyes.
Jonah stood at the stove, stirring the contents of a pot. “I made us a little stew.”
After they ate he told her, “I’m going to sharpen my knife and fashion some arrows. If you need anything…”
She pulled him close and kissed his cheek. “I’ll be fine.”
* * *
When Beth awoke the next day, sunlight streamed through the small window. Jonah stood at the stove, breaking pemmican into a small pan of steaming water. She sat up and greeted him.
“It’s clear and sunny out but cold as can be,” he said. “Way below zero I figure.”
“How can you tell?”
“I spit outside. It froze with a cracking sound. That means at least twenty below.”
“I don’t think I can walk.”
“I’ll help you into a chair.”
“How will we get out of here?”
“You need a couple days rest to let your feet begin healing. There’s huge drifts over the train tracks. No one’s coming up here anytime soon.”
“We’ll need more to eat.”
“I spotted deer not too far from here.”
* * *
“Jonah, when we hike out of here, I don’t want to damage my feet any further. Do you think we can make boots and mittens out of the elk hide?”
“Good thinking.” He began witling an elk horn. “Needle for sewing,” he said, answering Beth’s inquisitive look. Jonah scratched the outline of her foot onto a piece of the hide, then measured and cut pieces for the sides.
“I’ll do the rest,” Beth said. Jonah cut one thin strip of the hide for lacing and she assembled her new boots.
He left the cabin briefly, then returned with a four-foot- by-three-inch branch. Jonah sat on one of the chairs and worked the ends.
Beth slipped into a just completed boot which came just below her knees and secured the lacing. “These will be warm.” She watched Jonah.
He held up his work. “Going to be a bow.”
“Why not use the pistol?”
“I’m afraid a shot will attract wolves. I’ll take it with me for protection.”
A number of hours later and after braiding a bow string, he said, “I’m heading out to find us something to eat.”
“Don’t get lost,” she said, as he strapped on the pistol and a pair of snowshoes.
* * *
“Match your surroundings if you want to sneak up on an animal.” Grandma Kimimela’s voice echoed in his head.
Jonah smiled at the memory. His tan leather pants and jacket were taking on the whiteness of his surroundings as blowing snow stuck to them. He wondered what she’d think of his current predicament.
The snowshoes weren’t fast but were much less tiring than sinking into the deep snow. Trying to avoid a brutal climb back to the mountain, he tried to stay at the same level as the cabin. He took the whisky bottle out of his jacket and took a long drink then refilled it with snow. After three grueling hours he spotted a few deer. They were about-a-mile-distant and halfway down the mountain. Their front feet pawed at the ground trying to clear the snow to find vegetation
Jonah moved to put a small wooded area between himself and his prey. An hour later he proceeded to the edge of the wood and surveyed the area. The deer were gone.
“Animals like to find water at the same time every day,” Grandma said. “But they’re quite weary when they drink.” He thought, “The waterfall. It might have moving water above it, but I only have a few more hours of light. Do I try again tomorrow?” He gazed at his surroundings. “What if I can’t find them?”
Taking a deep breath, he headed for the stream above the waterfall.
Jonah bent low as he approached the area. Two deer slowly hopped through the deep snow and stopped. One looked in his direction. He froze for what seemed an interminable time. The deer looked away. He continued to edge closer at a snail’s pace. A slight snowfall began. At twenty-five-yards, Jonah put his first arrow in the bow. He slowly pulled back, took careful aim then loosed the arrow. It sailed just over the back of one deer and silently embedded itself in a snow drift. One of the deer noticed the motion of the arrow as it flew by. It lifted its head. A small bird flew from a low branch near where the arrow disappeared. The deer watched it fly away then returned to pawing the ground.
Jonah loosed a second arrow. It struck the nearest deer. It took two hops. He felt joy but the emotion turned dark as he saw his kill tumble down the mountainside. It came to rest a few hundred feet below him. Jonah walked and slid to its location. He was horrified to discover it was still alive. The hunter pulled out his pistol and put one round in the deer’s head. He hesitated before butchering it only long enough to apologize for not killing it humanely and thanked the deer for giving up its life so he and Beth could eat.
There was little light left as he strapped the deer meat to his backboard. The snowfall stopped and the night sky revealed a canopy of stars and a full moon. After two hours of climbing, his thighs and calves ached. He stopped to rest and observed his surroundings. In the pale moonlight, shadows distorted the shapes of the rocky outcroppings. He couldn’t recognize any of the landmarks he’d tried to commit to memory as he trekked away from the cabin. When a wolf call shattered the silence, the thought of staying outside until it was light didn’t seem like a good idea. He shivered remembering the stories of men being ripped apart by wolf packs. If he wandered too far in the wrong direction, he might not find the cabin. He stood and surveyed the mountain ridge above him, still thinking the cabin must be above his level. Jonah sighed and slid the straps of the backboard over his shoulders.
Chapter Forty: Survival and Rescue
Back at the cabin, Beth heard the wolf call as well. Startled, she realized she’d been sleeping most of the day.
“What if he doesn’t return?” She ran her fingers through her hair. “He has the skills to survive out here. I can barely walk.”
With pain in her feet shooting into her calves, Beth pulled on her new boots. Walking on her heels and grimacing with each step, she slowly moved to the small window. Peering out into the full-moon-illuminated-night, she shivered; mostly from fright. When Beth exhaled, her breath froze on the window pane.
Her head spun around. She stared wide-eyed at the stove. Beth treaded gingerly across the cabin, placing a hand on its side. It was stone cold. She felt her heart pounding as if it wanted to leap out of her chest.
“I’ve let the fire go out and I didn’t see how he started it.”
* * *
Jonah kept his head on a swivel, watching for danger. He glanced to his left. Out of the corner of his eye something was approaching at a rapid rate. He turned as a mountain lion lunged at the back of his neck. Jonah managed to get his left forearm up which the cat clamped on to. Jonah screamed as he felt and heard bone breaking. The force of the two-hundred-pound-cat pushed him backwards. He drew the Colt and pulled the trigger multiple times. The sounds of pistol shots echoed across the mountainside. The cat fell to the ground, unmoving. Jonah writhed in pain. He gritted his teeth, slid the backboard off his shoulders, gingerly removed his coat and examined his arm. A puncture wound bled profusely.
He shuddered as he knew there was only one way to repair the gash. Jonah sat on a felled tree and removed the medical kit from his coat pocket. Removing his gloves, he tightened a cloth bandage around his upper arm, securing a knot in the tourniquet with his teeth and good hand. He unrolled the medical kit and located the curved needle.
Jonah checked his surroundings for wolves or any other animal that might be hunting him. He thought, “Shit! How will I get a thread in this damn needle?”
His body began shivering from the cold. Jonah pinched a bit of his leather pant material over his thigh then ran the needle partially through it to keep it still. After numerous attempts to get the suture material through the needle’s eye, his frustration reached a boil. His good hand was shaking. Jonah thought, “I have to calm down or I’ll never get this done.”
He took a deep breath and tried again. Success!
Jonah pinched the skin together over the wound with the la
st three fingers of his good hand then after gritting his teeth, pushed the needle through with his thumb and forefinger. He tied off the first suture and moved to begin the second. Just as the needle pierced the skin, the fingers which held the skin together lost their grip due to the slippery blood around the wound. He backed it out and carefully put the needle through his pant leg again then wiped the wound area. Each wipe put pressure on the tissue around the broken bones and caused intense pain to radiate up his arm. His whole body shuddered and he closed his eyes until the pain subsided. Jonah secured the needle and began again…and checked his surroundings once more for predators.
He tied off the last suture then removed the tourniquet from his upper arm and used the material to wrap over the sutures. The medical kit was rolled up and stuffed in his jacket pocket. His entire body shivered not just from the pain but also from the cold.
As he slid the coat sleeve up his arm, lightning-bolts-of-pain exploded in the wounded appendage. Jonah slid his good arm into the other sleeve and buttoned the front…difficult to do with one hand let alone one hand stiffened by the cold.
He glanced at the backboard and considered leaving it behind but remembered there was nothing to eat at the cabin. Jonah thought, “Have to get back with this. Beth is depending on me.”
All the while moaning from the motion-caused-pain, he placed the backboard against the base of a tree and sat down in front of it. Slowly and carefully working his bad arm past the shoulder strap, Jonah realized this was the most pain he’d ever experienced. With his good arm in the other strap he stood. He slowly lifted the broken forearm and cradled it with his good arm.
He felt dizzy so leaned his shoulder against a tree to steady himself.
* * *
Beth carefully sifted the ashes and found two glowing embers. She shaved tiny strips of wood from a piece of kindling, placed them on the embers and gently blew air over them. Nothing. She tried again. More tiny strips and more air. Beth cursed as she noted only one ember still glowed. She remembered the sheep hide. Although pain shot up her legs with each step, Beth retrieved it and, using her Bowie knife, sliced a good handful of fleece to use as tinder. She placed it on the remaining ember and blew gently. After the second try, a tiny wisp of smoke emerged. She blew again. More smoke. Continued blowing coaxed more smoke until the fleece flamed and ignited the kindling. Beth thought, “Never thought the sound of crackling wood would be such a relief.” She glanced at the ceiling. “Thanks for watching out for me, Lord.”
The Pioneer: A Journey to the Pacific Page 23