Chapter 3: Rescue

He was awakened several times during the evening to the soft pitiful whimpers of the injured cub. He kept the fire burning brightly and tried to sleep lightly until the tide had fully returned. He almost slept through it, but the pup startled him with another yip, and he struggled from his pallet. He didn’t bother to dress, simply wrapping the robe around his body as he limped down to the shore. The moon was bright, and he could tell that the closer hull was once again submerged. He swam out and clambered onto the deck to inspect his progress. He was pleased to see the crate had mere inches remaining to clear the hatch. Using his sturdy staff, he levered the bottom of the crate over the lip of the hatch and began pulling it gradually across the deck. It was clear that the tide had begun ebbing when he was suddenly unable to budge the crate any further.

Unconcerned, he waited patiently until he could loosen the heavy rope and free the log. A disturbance atop the crate startled him and he saw a slick shape thrashing about inside the net. It was a very nice-sized fish and it had trapped itself within the net. He tried to grab it, but his efforts were fruitless. Instead, he forced it into a corner and stabbed it through the head with his knife. Once it ceased to struggle, he captured it with one of his hammock bags and tied it to his harness. He pulled the heavy driftwood back over the hold entrance and tied it securely to begin the process anew.

He wrapped the fish tightly in a small piece of sailcloth and placed it in the pool next to his fire, weighed down by several rocks. He could feel the pup’s eyes upon him as he worked. He knew it was hungry again, but he intentionally withheld any more food offerings until morning.

As he dressed himself in the early dawn light, Marcus could just make out the rope as it rose straight above the net, to the overhead branch. The other end lay beside the pool near his feet. Working quickly with his knife, he removed the fish from its wrapper and gutted it next to his fire. He removed the head and tail and carried all of the entrails across the pool, setting them in the center of the trap. The pup rose to its haunches alert but remained still as it watched him intently. Returning to his seat, he rewrapped the fish and then washed his hands off in the pool. The previous evening, he gathered what he thought he would need to treat the injured pup. He made up several dressings, bandages, and splints; and stripped a piece of cord to its smaller threads, which he boiled in his pot with a sail repair needle. He similarly sterilized several rags to clean the wound. Anticipating an angry animal, he fashioned a basic muzzle from a piece of rope. He made a collar from his old belt and fashioned a soft bed from several of his unwashed garments piled near the fire beside his pallet.

He left his fire smoldering to preserve his night vision and was immediately alert when the pup rose to its feet and made its way gingerly to the strong-smelling fish entrails. In its weakened, famished state, it abandoned all caution and made straight for the food that it consumed ravenously. Marcus slowly reached over to the rope and grabbed it, rising softly to his feet. The wolf pup paid him no mind, focused solely on its meal. Drawing in a slow breath, he pulled in the slack until he noticed the corners of the net begin to rise from the dirt. With a sudden heave, he yanked the rope down, drawing the net up and pulling the startled creature from its feet. It was instantly snared in the web and howled pathetically. Marcus lifted the net until it was level with his chest, then tied off the lanyard to a nearby tree. He grabbed the muzzle and several dressings and cautiously approached the injured animal. Its yelps and cries were filled with pain and terror, and it snarled viciously at him as he drew near. It was fortunate that the injured limb was protruding through the webbing, and he could see the arrow pressed against the wolf’s side.

Talking softly, he tried to calm it for a few minutes before attempting to touch it. He reached for the net a safe distance from the sharp teeth and held it steady to keep it from spinning. He rotated the net until he was facing the enraged pup and tried to pet its furry head. A vicious snarl and snapping jaws pulled him up short. He bent down to grab a foot-sized chunk of wood and presented it to the snarling teeth. Predictably the wolf bit it and held on long enough for Marcus to grab it by the muzzle and force its mouth closed. Struggling to free itself, Marcus held strong and let the creature wear itself out, before tugging the makeshift muzzle into place and securing it about the head and neck.

With a sigh of relief, he cut several strands of the net away, until he freed the arrow and exposed the injured shoulder. He wasted no time, removing the arrow with a quick jerk that sent the poor dog wailing in agony. “I’m sorry lad.” He offered softly. “That was the worst part.” He quickly packed the wound with a dressing and held it firmly while he felt around, probing the shoulder joint. The wailing was deafening and wrenched his heart, but he continued his treatment. After assessing the size of the wound, he proceeded to clean it as best he could, removing pus, dirt, and hair until it rinsed clean.

“I’m sorry about this lad,” he lifted the tail and corrected himself, “lass rather.” He threaded one of the long sutures and grabbed the wound, pressing the edges together. “If you didn’t like me before you’re sure to hate me after this.” Quickly and steadily, he sewed up the cut, stitching it from the inside first and then closing the edges until only a small gap remained. Once the swelling subsided it should heal nicely. The poor pup wailed until exhaustion overtook her and then she surrendered with loud gasping pants. Washing the wound again, he packed it and wrapped several bandages about her chest to hold them tightly in place. Lowering the net, he lifted her gently from its confines and carried her over to her new bed. She was too spent to offer more than token resistance as he lay her with her injured side up and placed the collar about her neck. He bundled her up in the garments and tied the bundle off to prevent her from licking the dressing. As a final measure, he tied a length of rope to her collar and secured it to the nearby tree. He grabbed the arrow tip and studied the crude flint tip. He wondered about the hands that fashioned it and if he had neighbors nearby. It was unlikely that the injured pup could have traveled far from wherever it encountered the human that attacked her. He decided to proceed with caution, anticipating visitors eventually.

The sun had fully risen by the time he finished his grisly task. He turned to his fire and stirred the coals about before adding fresh tinder. He stacked more wood atop the smoldering coals and refilled his large pot with fresh water. Retrieving his catch from last night he went about skinning and filleting it, tossing the bony remains to the circling gulls. He cut the fish into long strips and wrapped them carefully around several sticks that he lay across the rocks near the coal bed, to cook.

He could see the nearest hull section protruding from the water. He patiently waited for his breakfast to cook and settled next to his furry ward. She growled at him weakly as he caressed her head softly. “It will be all right girl,” he reassured her with a gentle pat. “You rest for a bit and then we will get you up and about.” Chancing a painful nip, he loosened and removed the muzzle to make her more comfortable. He was encouraged that she chose to lick his outstretched hand rather than attack him. “Good girl.” He removed a piece of the fish from the coals and set it aside to cool for her. The smell made both their bellies rumble. After he consumed a hearty portion, he turned back to the wolf pup and fed her by hand. She greedily accepted each piece and swallowed them whole. He allowed her a drink of water from his stein and then rose to begin the day’s scavenging.

A short while later he stood naked once again, on the deck of the midsection working his prybar around the crate, removing the lid. The Crown spared no expense to expand its territory, and the colonists were well prepared to establish their new settlement. The first crate contained the bundled bulky canvas for a large pavilion shelter, including the ropes, stakes, and furnishings. He also discovered the cast iron parts of a settlement stove with interlinking pipes for diverting smoke outside. It would be a chore to get all of this relocated to his camp, but he had time on his side.

Before he considered that endeavor, he lowered himself back into the hold of the ship and secured his heavy lifting rope to another middle-sized crate. He secured it to the overhead log, taking up as much slack as he could before tying it off. Typically, the transport and setup of one of the enormous tents required many hands. That was a luxury he could not afford so he needed to come up with a means to do it alone. Ferrying the heavier and bulky items to shore would require a raft of some sort. As he considered the problem, he removed the metal stove pieces and set them aside. He found a bundle of dark wool blankets and tossed them as close to the shore as he could. The majority of the tent was one piece and it weighed far more than he could lift. He decided to leave it and concentrated on the crate itself. It was time to check on the pup, so he returned to shore with one of the heavier stove pieces and carried it to the camp along with the bundle of blankets.

The shaggy young creature stared forlornly at him as he dried himself and donned his clothes. Her head peeked out from her bundled-up papoose and her enormous ears twitched as he cluttered and clanged about the fire. He picked up her bundled form and she struggled anxiously for a minute before surrendering to him. He quickly untied her bindings and freed her, still holding her delicately so that her injured shoulder did not touch him. Whining softly, he carried her to the pool until he had reached the limits of her leash, before setting her into the water. Releasing her, she gazed back at him uncertainly, as he withdrew and made to wash his own injuries. He was relieved to find that he could open his left eye finally. The swelling in his face had lessened, and his cuts were scabbed over and healing nicely. He sat beside the pool and watched the wolf pup, and she drank thirstily before turning to her bandages to work them with her teeth. This prompted a painful yip, so she squatted and relieved herself instead.

He shook his head with a grin. “Try to do that further downstream if you would lass,” he chided her with a chuckle. She gazed at him unapologetically and began stepping gingerly about the pool, testing the limits of her rope. She jerked against it and thrashed about several times but was soon accustomed to her limitations.

Marcus retrieved the wool blankets and carefully rinsed each one in the pool before hanging them to dry. He considered the raft in his mind and inspected several nearby logs of similar size and shape. He could fasten two or three of them together with cross braces and fashion a serviceable deck from the side panels of the crate. He had the tools and nails to make it quite sturdy. After a short break, he coaxed the little wolf to his side with several pieces of cooked fish that she snatched from him greedily. He stepped on her leash to prevent her escape and carefully placed the bundle over her once more. She shivered fearfully as he wrapped her gently and secured the bundle again. He left her right leg free this time before securing the papoose with the cords. He lay her gently across his lap and patted her affectionately, crooning softly to her. Her eyes closed quickly as she surrendered to the fatigue as well as her injuries. He laid her back on her pallet and began his new project.