back rebelliously, realizing the seriousness of the situation they were in. “Just bear with me. I’m gonna figure this thing out.”
With that, both Bill and Ed turned without saying a word and continued walking back toward camp, as Dave followed, muttering and cussing under his breath almost every step of the way.
The trail home was much easier as they traced their way back over the beaten path they’d forged earlier. This time it took only two hours, and they all decided to skip dinner as they fell exhausted into their sleeping bags, still sweaty and fully dressed.
The next morning they seriously discussed things again, while ravenously eating their breakfast and stretching out some of their aching muscles, finally agreeing to spend the day recovering from yesterday’s grueling ordeal. Ed even suggested it might be best if they forget the whole thing and return home, but Dave persisted, convincing them to stay and at least try to search for his magic river that he was sure was there somewhere and was filled with gold nuggets. He even suggested they might go back to Caliper Lake, and take the very same trail he’d taken last year, but that was only as a last resort and would almost certainly attract the Indians again.
“Maybe we should go back to where we were yesterday and each take a compass and walk five miles in different directions,” Bill suggested. “That’s if you think we were anywhere near the trail you walked last year.”
“I swear there’s another stream out there, and I know we had to be pretty darn close to it,” Dave frowned boldly, while placing a large log on the fire. “And you know what? It wouldn’t be the first time that I found a map to be wrong,” sensing that both Bill and Ed had become much more skeptical of what he’d been telling them all along.
“All right, I’ll go along with you one more time,” Ed shouted. “But if we don’t find something tomorrow I’m heading home, with or without you guys.” he said, demanding Dave’s agreement.
After several moments of silence, Dave looked up and stared back. “All right, but I’m going to prove to you I know what I’m talking about,” he replied, slowly forcing his aching body up and walking to his sleeping bag where he could lay down and think things over.
The following morning they packed food and water and their rolled up sleeping bags, intending to stay no more than one night away from their base camp. Dave had laid awake much of the night studying his maps over and over, tracing and retracing his markings on the very same map he’d used the previous year.
“Worst case is, we had to be within three to five miles of where I hiked last year, and we’re bound to find something if we all branch out from that spot we were at,” Dave explained, slowly lifting his backpack to his shoulders. “My gut feeling is that river has to be to the west. We could head southwest from here, but we’d be blazing a new trail, so my suggestion is we retrace our old trail and each separately head out from where we were the other day, just like Bill suggested.”
This time Dave took the lead, reaching the spring fed marsh in less than two hours, while stopping to rest only once.
“It looks like the underbrush thins out toward the west, so hopefully you won’t need to chop your way any longer, but I recommend you each mark your trail frequently,” Dave explained, as he tied a red marker to a tall branch that was clearly visible from the west end of this rather large clearing. “Remember it’s an overcast day, so you’ll really have to rely on your compass.”
Dave planned to head in a southwest direction and Bill to the northwest, while Ed would walk between them, directly toward the west, and they all agreed to return to Dave’s marker in two hours. If any one of them did not return by then, the others were to wait one hour before giving any type of gun signal, since Dave felt it important they keep their presence in the area a secret.
“And for God sake, if you feel you’re lost, don’t keep walking,” Dave explained. “Just stop and wait for us to come and find you.”
Bill had been walking at a good pace for almost an hour before he heard what sounded like rushing water off in the distance. Although he knew better, he began to run in the direction of the noise, something you should never do in the wilderness. And then suddenly, right in front of him stood a huge black bear that seemed just as startled as he was. Standing motionless, Bill tried to look as tall as he could while slowly reaching for his magnum. Once his hand contacted the handle, it was out of his holster in less time than it would take to blink your eye, and as he slowly raised both arms with no eye contact, the bear stood up on his hind legs and snarled with his hair raised on his back, poised to attack at the slightest provocation.
“Get out of here,” Bill shouted loudly, while realizing that if the bear did decide to attack he’d have time for only one shot. To Bill, the bear’s challenge seemed to last for an eternity, while he intentionally tried to avoid eye contact, which would surely cause this monster to attack, a characteristic of most wild animals when challenged in a sudden confrontation like this. While Bill held his arms up high to look as big as possible, he realized he needed to carefully lower one arm and level his gun at the bear’s head, just in case. And as he did that, the bear’s stare down finally came to an end as the animal slowly lowered his towering frame to the ground. Turning and walking away, the bear only stopping to look back as if to once more evaluate this unusual animal that’d suddenly interrupted his search for food and wild berries. Only after the bear disappeared into the forest, did Bill gradually wipe his forehead and take a deep breath, muttering to himself softly, that was way to close.
Bill’s first thought was to turn around and head back, but he felt certain that Dave’s stream was just over the next rise, so he proceeded, but far more cautiously this time.
Finally he found himself staring at Dave’s stream right before his eyes. “There it is,” he chocked, suppressing a yell for joy as he tightly clenching both fists. “I’ll be darned, Dave was right,” he whispered.
The stream looked just like Dave had described it, filled with swirling rapids and backwater currents. And as he crouched by the edge of the bank the sun suddenly broke through the clouds for only a moment, as if to celebrate his good fortune.
Meanwhile, Ed had also been hearing a peculiar noise that he couldn’t quite identify, but he trudged on rather discouraged by not having found anything during the first hour. But continuing further, he noticed the noise was becoming louder with each step.
What is that noise? Could it be the wind or maybe a train off in the distance? He thought to himself. Then as he roughly pushed aside a clump of brush, he spotted a huge granite cliff several hundred yards away. Increasing his pace, he suddenly felt both fear and excitement at what might lie ahead.
I hope that noise isn’t some Indian tribe, he thought to himself. This had been in the back of his mind much of the morning, and he’d been thinking of what he might do if any Indians confronted him, mainly now while he was all alone.
Then suddenly he found himself standing and looking up at a solid granite cliff that towered over him.
“That’s gotta be a waterfall I’m hearing.” he whispered, his excitement growing with every minute. Hurriedly he worked his way along the base of the cliff to a steep crevice he thought he might be able to climb without falling, but as he looked at his watch he realized he’d already seriously exceeded the halfway point in time, and he paused to evaluate the situation before starting any dangerous climb.
I better return for help, he thought. In fact I could fall getting up there and that would be a disaster. Pausing only to once again confirm the sound of running water, he quickly
