Chapter 395

The Prison Planet

As he ate breakfast, Morales sat looking at the beginning of his wall, currently three logs high, but the first one was in the trench he had dug for it, which left its upper surface at ground level. Shaving two sides of each eight-inch in diameter log flat, left five to six inches of height gained each time he added a log to his wall.

“Lobo, it’s time to sink the next log into the cave wall,” he told the wolf. Morales had decided to add to the strength of the wall he was building by burying the end of every third log into the left wall as deeply as he could dig with his posthole digger. That would give a lot of extra support to that end, but he needed to plan for additional support where the door would be on the entrance end, too.

“I’ll dig a slot into the right wall (entrance side) for an end post that’s door height, burying the bottom end as deeply as I can, then brace it with another post angled at forty-five degrees with its bottom end also deeply embedded into the ground. That way, nothing should be able to push that end over, either. Of course, I’ll have to make a slot in the wall for the end brace, too, but that will just make it stronger.

“I keep remembering that painting of the giant bear tearing a log cabin apart, so I’m going to make the wall as strong as I can. The door will be a little taller than I am, then I’ll bury the next log across the top of the door (again, entrance side) deep into the wall for extra support just like I’m going to do every third one in the other end. I’ll also put in more angle braces with the bottom ends buried and the top ends notched into the wall. That will keep the whole wall from being pushed or pulled over. I’ll add brackets for at least three bars to drop into place across the door to lock it closed at night. When I’m done, it would take a bulldozer to break down the wall and door – I hope.”

Then with a sigh, “A lot of work,” he told Lobo, “but I have to do it to make our cave safe from the likes of those tigers, let alone the cave bears. I have a bad feeling about those things. Knowing my luck, that bear will be back, and might even bring company. If he does come, I damn sure want to be ready for his big ass.” Then with a grin, “Besides, that has to be one humongous hide he’s carrying around. From the pictures those scientists made, just one hide would probably cover half my wall – maybe more, and I’ll bet the hide is really thick. A couple of them would go a long way toward insulating the entrance end of the cave, not to say anything about making me a super-thick coat.

“Hmmm, that reminds me. When I was a kid, Mom always harped about me wearing a cap on really cold days. She said that keeping my head warm went a long way toward keeping my whole body warm in really cold weather. If it worked for me on Earth, it will work here. If I manage to kill one of those things, I’m gonna use part of its hide to make a thick cap with ear flaps.”

He took the last sip of coffee from his cup and grinned over at the wolf. “Of course, there is the minor detail of killing the big bastard before it kills me. And all that is assuming one of those fuckers comes back and tries to dig us out of here.” Then with a sigh, “If we meet one out in the open, chances are you and I will both be dead.” With that sobering thought in mind, he decided to go for another log before it got too hot.

He had cut the first log long enough to go completely across the cave and deep into the wall opposite the door, although, the log was buried level with the ground. The second was cut to fit from that side to the inside edge of the door that would open into the narrow passage to the outside.

Digging the holes in the wall was a bitch, and in addition, he had to take down several of the poles he had put up for the original barrier in order to have room to work.

Finally, the log’s sides were dressed level and it was mounted and pinned to the log below it. “Four,” he sighed as he sat to take a long drink of spring water. “But with the first log level with the ground, the wall is really only three logs high,” he said with a sigh. “Shit, this is slow.”

He hadn’t even had time to start on the bean and pea shelling, but rationalized that it was better to get them into the cave while he could. He could shell them on rainy days, or even later in the year when it got cold. My cave goes on practically forever, so room to store things isn’t a problem. Hmmm, that brings up a thought. Now that I have a good light, I need to continue my exploration. There’s a draft through here, so the cave must open to the outside somewhere on the other end. Hopefully, the opening isn’t large enough to allow something big to enter. That thought brought on a bit of tension, but he reasoned that whatever managed to come in would have a very long trek of darkness to negotiate before it could get to him.

The fish had been slowly drying all night, and he had gotten up several times to feed the low fire that was helping to dry it. A test piece now broke in his fingers, indicating that the jerky was dry enough to last for a long time – at least according to the articles he had been reading. Taking a bite, he grinned at the intenseness of the taste. “Damn. I think I like the taste of dried fish better than fresh.” Then, “Oh, well, maybe not. But it does taste good, anyway,” he told Lobo as he offered the wolf a piece.

Lobo seemed to approve, his eyes shifting to the dried fish on the racks. “Okay, you deserve it,” Morales said with a laugh as he gave Lobo several of the larger pieces, then stuffed his own mouth full.

Although he hated to take the time to do it, he sawed out two more long boards, dug out and placed them along a wall near his other jerky. The fish doesn’t take up much room on my new shelves, but I’ll fill them with jerky as soon as I make another kill. Then again, maybe I’ll just quarter the kill and freeze most of it. It would be nice to have fresh meat to thaw when I want a steak.

Checking the sun, he decided that he had enough time to get more vegetables from the valley if he didn’t stop to put out his trotlines. Buckling on his equipment, he called Lobo, and the two hurried to the valley.

Again checking the height of the sun over the mountains, he told his partner, “We still haven’t been all the way to the other end on this side. Let’s check it out, then come back and pick some more peas and beans.”

Without any further instructions, the wolf ranged on ahead, heading toward the area Morales had just spoken about. He seems to be understanding me better every day. How can that be? I’ve even started joking with him, and be damned if he doesn’t seem to understand jokes and sarcasm. I just forget and talk to him like I would a person, but, dammit, there’s no way he can learn language like that. Then after a hesitation, Whether it’s possible or not, he responds appropriately to almost everything I tell him to do, and he listens attentively to whatever I say. Hell, let’s face it. He’s fast becoming the best friend I’ve ever had. Then after a pause, he added with a grin, And, truth be told, he’s probably the smartest one I’ve ever had, too.

Lobo came out of the brambles, tilted his head and looked back at Morales as if to say, “The day is getting on. You coming?”

Morales picked up his pace.

A little later, he stopped as they passed a section a couple of hundred yards square. As he watched the wind ripple the golden stalks in waves, he assumed it was a field of wheat – at least it looked like the pictures he had seen on TV. I saw this from a distance before, but up close, it’s daunting. One hell of a lot of work if I want to have bread, though, he thought. Then as he continued to watch the swaying stalks, Most everything except the smaller vegetables is mixed in with weeds, but this wheat field is almost clear of the weeds and brambles. Did the scientists do something different here? Then the thought hit him, I have a scythe, and I can make a handle for it, but what am I going to do with the wheat once I have it cut down? Grabbing a couple of the seedpods, he stared at them. My grinder, though small, will make what little flour I need for bread, but how do I separate the stalk from the seedpod, or whatever they call it?

After standing and watching the wind sway the wheat in waves, he shrugged and hurried to catch up with Lobo while muttering about being too dumb to figure out anything for himself. Shit, I didn’t learn things like this in the city. Oh, well, I’ll dig into the computer when I have time, maybe while I’m shelling peas. There’s bound to be a “How to” section in there somewhere that tells how to harvest wheat by hand.

He had been staring at the wheat and hadn’t paid a lot of attention to what was growing near the stream toward this side of the valley. Abruptly, it dawned on him and he stopped to stare.

“Lobo, come back, Boy,” he called out as he turned to his left, still pulling the empty rolling case. At this point, the bank of the stream was roughly six feet down to the water, and along the edge was a long row of bushes that were heavily-laden with large, deep-blue, almost black, berries.

“Hot damn,” he said as he turned the case loose to hurry over. Grabbing a bunch, he looked closely at the berries, at first, thinking they were blueberries, but if they were, they were larger than any he had ever seen, and after tasting them, found that they were even sweeter. Later, he saw a picture on the computer, but was never certain whether the berries he had picked were 2214’s version of blueberries, or huckleberries. They didn’t seem to be exactly either one. Whatever they were, they were even sweeter than the blueberries he loved on Earth, and there was a truly enormous amount of them.

Then something he had read struck him. Bears love berries, and I think I remember reading that they especially love huckleberries. “Oh, shit,” he said aloud, then feeling chill bumps crawling up his neck, he anxiously looked around. There was movement in the wheat, making his heart thud in his chest before the wolf came loping out, a grin on his face.

“Shit! You scared the fuck out of me,” he squeaked out.

Lobo sat, his tongue hanging out of his mouth, as he panted in the heat, tilted his head to the side and stared at Morales as if to say, “What’s wrong with you?”

With another glance around, Morales hung one of his buckets on his arm and began grabbing clusters of berries, from time to time putting a couple in his mouth.

“Check these out and see if you like them,” he told the wolf as he held his hand out with a number of the berries in the palm.

Lobo’s tongue flicked out and one of the berries disappeared. The wolf had been sitting, but now came to his feet. A second later, Morales’ hand was empty. “Good, huh?”

Lobo grinned at him before going to the nearest bush. Rising up on his back legs, he locked his mouth onto a cluster and pulled it free. Lying down with the bunch between his front paws, he began eating the berries.

The berries hung in bunches much like grapes, and the greater percentage of them were fully ripe. Now was the time, and Morales set to picking them with a vengeance. He soon found that he could snip the stem that held the bunch with his knife while holding the bucket underneath. The bucket was soon full, emptied into the case, and another and another bucket-full followed.

I’m almost positive I can dry these because the article I was reading on drying fruits and vegetables mentioned blueberries. If these aren’t blueberries or huckleberries, they’re a close cousin, and I’m damn sure not going to leave them out here to ruin.

By the time the sun began to set, he had the case half full of berries and he still had half the bushes to go. “I have no fucking idea how I’m going to dry all these, but I’ll get it done somehow. No way am I going to let all this go to waste,” he told the wolf.