Parktails. Douglas G. Campbell
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Wearily Skeezer and Spritzer ascended the slope of Zornova’s back. Some of the other skunks grumbled, mumbling that they were tired too. But they all hurried on as best they could as the smoke moved across the sky to block out the sun. It was another two miles to Big Sky Lake, and then another half mile beyond that to Beaver Island. I made a mental note to cross skunk herding off my list of possible career alternatives.
Beaver Island
When we reached the lakeshore, Zornova stopped and crouched down so that Spritzer, and Skeezer could dismount. Then she said, “We can rest when we reach the island. Right now all of you must forage and fill your stomachs for there will not be much to eat on Beaver Island.”
Nobody argued, for it had been a long and difficult day with no time for eating. The skunks set about devouring seedpods and berries while Zornova cropped the tall grass near the water’s edge. I dug up some edible tubers and waded out into the lake to wash them. One by one, as each belly was filled the skunks returned to the water’s edge and rested. Spritzer, the least accomplished forager, was the last to return.
As Spritzer ambled back towards our small group of refugees, Zornova spoke again “I can take five of you at a time. Blinkers you stay here with the four that remain.
It was almost a hundred yards from the shore to Beaver Island. Most of the distance was shallow water. The skunks had to be coaxed up onto Zornova’s back, for they all feared the lake that seemed deep to them, even the shallow part that they would ford. Zornova waded slowly into the dark waters and then worked her way carefully between boulders and sunken logs. About two thirds of the way across, there was a shrill squeal from Skeezer; he became unsettled as Zornova began to swim through water too deep for wading. Soon they were on the island and Zornova struggled up out of the lake and unloaded her passengers.
Zornova returned quickly to collect the remaining skunks for her second trip to the island. Rutorina had to be awakened before she could climb aboard.
“Blinkers you climb on up too,” Zornova said, “there’s enough room on my back for you as well.”
Though I could swim across, I was glad for a bison-back ride right now, for I was simply exhausted. It seemed like several days, rather than just part of one day, since we left the Geyser District Ranger Station to rescue this skaggle of nine very stubborn but timid skunks.
Zornova was approaching the deeper water, where she would need to swim, when she stumbled over an unseen log hidden within the darkness of the lake. Rutorina tumbled into the water squeaking madly. Without thinking I jumped in after her.
“You go on Zornova,” I cried from the water, “I can bring Rutorina by myself.”
Soon I regretted my confidence, for Rutorina, even though she was exhausted, thrashed and struggled so that I thought I would never get hold of her. Finally she began to tire and sink. I grabbed the thick fur of her neck with my jaws just before her nose sank below the surface. Rutorina, now totally wearied, was more cooperative. Even though my heart was pounding rapidly and my forelegs ached from paddling towards the shore, we soon reached the shallows surrounding Beaver Island. Rutorina, once released from my jaws, shambled ashore rapidly. Once ashore she climbed up onto a flat rock ledge and shook herself until she was no longer waterlogged.
“Oh, thank you Blinkers!” she gushed, as she gave me a skunk-stinky kiss on my cheek.
“Just think nothing of it, Rutorina,” I answered, “it’s all in the line of duty you know. It’s nothing to get worked up about. You go on now and find a comfortable place to rest.”
Zornova limped over to the shore. She had cut her right foreleg badly and there was a steady flow of blood from several nasty looking wounds.
“Thank you, Blinkers,” she said wearily. “You have been a great help to me today.”
“Oh Zornova,” I responded, “you have saved the day for us! Without your resolve and calm head none of us would have made it this far. We are now safe at least. You stay here while I look for some lichen and spiders’ webs to staunch your wound. You need to rest more than any of us; you are the one who has worked so hard to get us to this haven of safety.”
I hurried off to hunt for medicinal herbs and other first aid materials among the large boulders on the island. It is called Beaver Island, because the southwest end has two white and gleaming tooth-shaped boulders. Moving from the boulders towards the northeast the island widens outward, forming a shape similar to a beaver’s body; then, both sides taper inward towards what would be the base of the beaver’s tail. From there, a flat and treeless tail-shaped extension stretches out into the lake. We had come ashore near the base of the tail. Soon I found the lichen and spiders’ webs I needed and headed back towards Zornova. Once the lichen and spiders’ webs were applied the bleeding slowed and then stopped completely. Fortunately, I had been able to find several herbs that would ease the pain caused by Zornova’s wounds. I remember her chewing them slowly, but I do not know what happened next, for exhaustion overcame me and I slept.
Flapping wings awakened me from sleep. It must have been morning, but the dawn, smoke-filled and murky, was difficult to differentiate from night. Gondzor circled as he slowed to land. Almost as soon as he touched down on the flat rocky surface he and Zornova were in a deep discussion about what faced us all. It was clear from their gestures and their facial expressions that they were both deeply concerned about the district and all who lived there. As they discussed the situation Zornova and Gondzor had walked out part way onto the treeless tail of Beaver Island. Gondzor did most of the talking. Zornova listened intently, nodding her head occasionally to acknowledge important facets of Gondzor’s report. Soon Gondzor motioned for me to come to them. Oh how my legs ached, and how hungry I was.
“Blinkers,” said Zornova, “the situation is not good. I cannot stay here any longer, for there are many who are in danger and many more who will soon need food and medical attention. You are to stay here until you are sent for. Gondzor tells me that the fire has not yet crossed the highway. It will soon be under control in this sector, but in the southwest part of Geyser District it is still burning out of control. I must go there immediately. Gondzor will help direct me from above. Assemble the skaggle of skunks for me and I will tell them what they need to know before I leave.”
“Yes Zornova,” I answered, before walking back stiffly, because my legs still ached, to find the skunks resting under some trees not far from the base of the tail.
“Come along all of you,” I announced, “Zornova must go now and she wishes to speak with you before she leaves.”
Moaning softly they padded out onto the beaver’s tail where Zornova and Gondzor awaited them. They arranged themselves according to rank and authority, and then waited quietly for Zornova to begin.
“All of you have been very brave,” she began. “You have followed my instructions and persevered under pressure. I must go now to take care of the many other refugees and those who have been injured. Blinkers will stay with you. If you have any needs Blinker’s will do his best to help you. I will send you information as often as I have couriers available. Though you are weary you must keep up hope. Farewell for now.”
Skeezer, since he was the eldest skunk present, replied. “All of us thank you for rescuing us. We would certainly be dead by now if you and Blinkers had not come to save us. We know that you are responsible for all who live in the Geyser District, so we do not need to detain you here. You have brought