Chapter 4

With an early morning sunrise, I dozed in and out of a light sleep after a small flock of Sharp-tailed sparrows started picking at insects and pebbles down stream. The bird song filled the air. My eyes opening and my mind willing them closed again. I wanted to try and capture some of the images from my dream. I saw clouds wafting over both walled and unprotected port cities, strange wooden sailing ships moving out to sea on the morning tide, surrounded by fragile fishing boats rowed by one or two men. I saw an imposing granite wall and gatehouses nested between high cliff walls in a tight mountain pass. Another flash was a majestic woodland forest at the end of a spectacular gorge with a rapid river flowing south through it. A series of thatch roof village images ended as I reached consciousness. The rest of the dream escaped me.

The morning air was cool and a bit of fog was burning off the other side of the stream. The fire was out so after stretching for a little while I started a new one, putting a pot of fresh stream water to boil. I collected a small bundle of young green pine needles, removing any of the brown, papery sheaths that remained at the base of the needles. With my knife I chopped the needles into small bits, putting them into my only tin cup. After about 20 minutes I poured the boiling water into the small cup and let it steep. When the majority of the clipped needles settled in the bottom I drank my tasty tea full of vitamin C. My energy bar wrappers feed the fire as the flames entertained my eyes and the food flavors satisfying my taste buds. I realized my muscles didn't ache nor did I feel any irritating bites from yesterday. I moved fingertips back and forth along the surface of my face expecting to find angry mosquito bites but only found scruffy stubble. "Fast healing," my thoughts leaked, still carrying only yesterday's memories. Also, my head felt clear, the last vestige of the deep laceration on my forehead gone.

Feeling confident now that I slept well and no nocturnal animals had taken an unhealthy interest in me, I planned out my day. The immediate terrain around me was flat and up to an arms length higher than the water level. This stream was swift, waist deep, with a sandy bottom. The other embankment was steeper with numerous scrub bushes nested near the evergreen trees. The rushing stream was broad enough that a man could not jump it. This fits the image from my vivid dream. This spring feed stream joined a much broader stream in the wetlands that led to the village by the sea. My plan is to make it to the village.

A stunted log raft with a slender width took part of the morning to make. I would take leisurely breaks to make and drink more pine needle tea to comfort me. A few more meager energy bars became a mid-morning snack. The craft was only made from small pine logs, a little longer than I was tall, and only as wide as my arms could reach on each side while kneeling on it. The lengths of the logs were more or less dictated by the weight I could manage when rolling and dragging them to the water. The clan knife had excelled in chopping the soft wood. The strong NanoLine wire from my G.O. survival bag was long enough to secure the logs and the wooden support members that provided a more rigid design. While I had the crude spear for guiding the drifting raft away from obstacles, a much longer pole would push the raft when I navigate the deeper water later in the day.

The raft lacked comfort and was insufficient to keep me dry as water washed over it as I knelt. The windy nature of the stream precludes a more worthy conveyance. "This is neither shipbuilding nor carpentry. I have to live with being cold and wet today." The frank thought leaked out as I pushed into the stream wearing my full gear.

Instantly, the raft shot down the stream with me holding the pole like a lance at a jousting tournament. The course of the stream shifted south at a tight bend and the water flared out to a broader stream that shallowed out. By kneeling on the raft my center of gravity was low and the initial rush of the rapid water while challenging didn't throw me. I shifted to poling in the slower water keeping to the deepest portion of the stream for a few hours.

The embankment gradient changed and dry land disappeared giving way to more wetland grasses. Every so often, I ground the raft to stretch my legs and back and eat an energy bar. As time went on, the current slowed and poling from my knees became hard on my back. There were times the stream would branch and take me into a field of cord-grass with no observable path; at times like that I would jump out and push the raft back to the last branch. This blind navigation went on for hours during the late afternoon. Thus far luck had kept me from any big mistakes in navigating the numerous stream branches. Exhausted, the enormity of the trip fractured my emotions. "I want to talk to someone," I protested.

To boost my spirits I started watching the wading birds among the open portions of the tall grass wetlands. Many wading birds have long thin bills, these bills may have sharply pointed tips, they use effectively piercing fish. The herons are my favorite with the distinctive thin and agile neck, with powerful neck muscles spearing prey. At the next small sand bar I ground the raft and get in the water pushing most of the wet logs out of the gentle stream. To give myself a bit of peace of mind I put the pole vertical through a loop and grind it into the sand with all my strength to create an anchor.

"That's the best I can do," I said softly. This area has no real trees or dried out bushes so no fire for tonight. I collapsed and ate a few energy bars, wishing they were fish. "I have to be patient perhaps the marsh village will trade me real food for energy bars," I barked out.

I watched a Heron. He was a patient hunter and stood motionless for long periods of time waiting for prey to come within his reach. This heron when moving, stepped slowly and deliberately to not scare the prey. "I have to step carefully and deliberately in this world. I will be the hunter not the prey," I said with conviction. The heron freezes at my loud threatening words. "Ya, I need to freeze and observe when feeling threaten too." The sun went down with the wool blanket comforting me. I slept deeply with fish jumping and splashing all around me. The gentle breeze picked up as clouds rolled across the night sky.

I woke up refreshed and without sore feet. A set of colorful turtles on the near shore entered the water and were swept from my sight. A moment later, I was surprised to see a raccoon where the turtles left the reeds. "Good morning to you scavenger," I said and saluted. The sky was full of wispy, feathery clouds that look like horse tails in the upper atmosphere. The air was comfortable and my dry clothes hung on me with a male stink. The real smell was my less than white socks which I slipped on before the tall moccasins. My stomach demanded a feeding so I gave it what was in the wrappers, dropping the waste paper on the ground. After policing the camp and packing the blanket and garbage bags, I treated myself by wearing my black brimmed cadet hat from the academy. The wool hat had a front facing bill to protect my eyes from the sun. A gold command logo with white stitched "Commander" on it made the hat rather distinctive. I only knew it was from the institution because it said so on the logo. The fanny pack and harness went on, followed by the camel back water reservoir and rucksack. The duct tape firmly holding the stun staff on the back of the rucksack like a cross bar for a scarecrow. "What a sight I will look to the people I meet today."

Potent pushing of the raft caused a foaming wake as I guided the craft to the center of the stream. My pole deflected the short raft from snagging on a submerged rock as I drifted over a shallow rocky bottom. The water accelerated my logs as we banked off the roots of a young willow tree turning west into a faster current. I heaved a huge sigh of relief, staring down the end of the channel into a fast river constricted by low banks of mud and clumps of bushes. My practiced muscles and sinew poled the raft into the river, it almost tipped and swamped as the current caught the logs. Wild water buffalo ignored me from the far muddy bank as they chewed marsh grass and the raft shot by quickly on the near bank. Doubts clouded my thoughts as I lay face down on the raft, wondering if the river would sweep me flailing into the water. A surge of irritation hit me. I lost that crude spear into the river and both ends of the stun staff visibly dripped water.

The raft ran through a quick series of S curves and broadened out into two channels facing south. The wider river slowed the current down and I relaxed. The school cap blocked the sun as I faced east and surveyed the bank. Thick bushes blocked my view. A kink of the neck and the west view was lush green marsh grass. On my knees, the scene felt enclosed since it was rather tall grass. A look south stunned me for a moment. Ahead a long flat sand bar separated the river into two channels. At a distance it looked like a low wooden fence blocked the narrow channel. Three men sat next to a smoky fire at the back of the sand bar with a canoe tied up to the water fence and grounded. A lazy grin filled my face, "My solitude is finally interrupted." I let out a breath, and then inhaled deeply to calm myself.

I poled into the long sand bar at the furthest end away from the strangers. The natives stooped and squinted up towards the raft. I had no skill at gauging indigenous human age, but two of them looked two decades old. The other young man seemed more like a teenager. All of them had lean bodies with red brown-skin and white toothed mouths. They wore very little in this warm climate. A cream colored linen waist wrap fell above the knees as they stood completely with slender long legs. Liquid brown eyes wide with apprehension and tight thin lips greeted my approach along the dry sand. Their loose black spiral hair shook as harsh words rose out at me. I raised both hands, palm out, above my head to emphasize they were weapon free and stopped my approach. I did not want anyone hurt.

Chapter 5 »