RUNAWAY TWINS and RUNAWAY TWINS IN ALASKA: BOXED SET (26 page)

He suggested they sharpen their southern direction somewhat as they descended toward the upper Yuktapah River. "It'll take longer to get back, but it'll also increase our margin of safety—can't be too careful."

After hiking for over an hour on their new tack, they once again approached a thick wooded area.

"Can't we go around?" asked Janie.

"We're just spooked," said Justin. "We're not going to start another fire. We'll quick march and be on the other side in no time."

Rachel peered into the trees. "Something's moving in there."

"Something's always moving…everywhere," said Justin. "This is Alaska—elk, deer, skunks, squirrels—"

"Muskrats," said Janie.

Rachel made a face at the memory of the carcass in the pond.

But the movement in the trees proved to be nothing so innocuous as the animals mentioned, for out of the woods waddled a nemesis that Justin recognized immediately, a brown cannibal from Umbriago's valley: Bruno the boar. His distinctive markings and silver-tipped fur were unmistakable.

The brown giant growled deeply when he saw Justin, as if to say, "I recognize you, young man. You're the boy who squirted me in the face with bear repellant, the boy who blew the air horn to frighten me into running."

Bruno raised up on his hind legs and began to examine Justin more closely.

Rachel and Janie were already in slow retreat, and Justin called to them. "Wait! Don't try to escape. We can't outrun him."

"What then?" asked Janie.

He backed up to join them. "No sudden moves. He might charge….There's a tall pine at the edge of the forest. The branches are low enough for us to reach."

"Grizzlies can climb trees," said Rachel.

"Yes, but not well," said Justin, "not like black bears. And if we can get high enough, the smaller limbs won't support Bruno's weight."

"So it
is
Bruno," said Rachel. "Thought it was—not that it matters much."

"It matters," said Justin. "Bruno hates me."

"What do you mean by that?" Janie whispered.

He held up his hand. "Tell you later."

They continued to back away from the violent boar on an angle that would reduce the distance when the time came to dart toward the pine tree.

Bruno didn't cooperate with the plan, and he came down off his hind legs into a charging position. Justin knew this meant trouble—trouble in the form of a thousand-pound boar racing thirty miles an hour toward their position.

"When I give the signal," he said, "you girls run for the pine tree….I'll be right behind you."

"No, you don't, Justin," said Rachel. "You're not going to sacrifice yourself for us."

"He can kill three of us as easily as one," Justin said. "We don't all have to die."

"Then I'll distract him," said Rachel, stepping in front of Justin. "You and Janie run for the tree."

Janie started to speak, but Bruno began to charge and all the young people gasped in terror.

But after barreling twenty or thirty feet in their direction, Bruno put on the brakes and skidded to a halt, causing the blubber on his bottom to shake vigorously. Something had caught his attention, had caused him to change his mind, to turn his head, to look back at the woods. It soon became clear what had stopped his progress. Out of the forest strolled a huge bull moose—easily fifteen hundred, maybe sixteen hundred pounds…holding his head high, wearing his massive rack like a crown.

Bruno lost interest in the young people, and Justin cried, "To the pine—now! Before Bruno changes his mind again."

When they were in the tree and still climbing, Justin shouted, "Higher, higher. Let's get so high Bruno's weight will break the limbs…if he's able to follow."

"Will he?" asked Janie.

"If our new friend lets him. They're eyeing each other like fighters waiting for the bell to ring."

The combatants moaned, groaned, huffed, barked, roared, grunted, sneezed, and screeched, each apparently trying to scare away the other to preclude a bloody battle. But neither seemed inclined to back down.

"Who will win?" Janie asked, when they'd reached an appropriate height in the pine tree.

"Bruno should win," said Justin, "especially if he can get on the moose's back. But don't underestimate a moose of that size. He can attack with his hooves, his horns, and most of all his weight. If Bruno isn't careful the moose can flatten him. Best for us if the moose wins. He doesn't want us—Bruno does...Odds are always in favor of the grizzly."

But someone forgot to tell the giant moose, for soon after the conflict began he had reduced the boar to a silvery, brown, bloody pulp. He'd kicked the hapless Bruno, gored him repeatedly, and then smashed him into the hard earth with the weight of a small bulldozer. When it was over, Bruno struggled to his feet and limped toward the woods.

The bull moose watched him scornfully and then departed as well.

Justin said, "Bruno's creeping off to die."

Janie said, "Oh, the poor thing."

Rachel laughed. "Janie, that bear was about to eat us."

"I know, but I still feel sorry for him."

The float plane landed on
Glacier Lake and taxied to within a few hundred yards of the location where the lake now disappeared underground.

"Good Lord," the pilot said, "the entire southern end of the canyon is gone—lake and all. I don't want to get any closer. I'm going to let you off here. You can work your way over to the Yuktapah…maybe three or four hours."

There were five passengers, all fully equipped for a land and air-based rescue operation. Three of the team members were Alaska State Troopers, and two were volunteers, experienced outdoorsmen, who had flown in from Whitehorse in the Yukon. The troopers were glad to have them.

23
Survival

Because of the southern extension
of their trek, the three interns were still a considerable distance from the upper reaches of the Yuktapah when it came time to look for a place to spend the night.

At a promising area, they split up (though Janie insisted that one of them remain within sight). Rachel took it upon herself to select the exact spot to pitch camp and to begin constructing the shelter; Janie set out to gather wood, twigs, and tinder for the fire; and with his hardwood throwstick Justin went to find an arctic squirrel or a snowshoe hare for dinner.

Rachel had learned shelter-building skills from Justin when they were running from the Prophet and his minions in Montana's Bitterroot Mountains; and she felt confident she could perform her task competently. She knew she had to pay particular attention to insulation because there was a strong suggestion of rain in the air. It wouldn't be possible to make the shelter completely dry, but she could plug most of the holes.

She thought of the forest fire they'd left behind and how the rain, if it came, and if it was heavy enough, would snuff out the flames. But at the same time, the rain would subject her and Janie and Justin to hypothermia if they weren't able to stay relatively dry when the cold night arrived. Justin had taught her it was a mistake to build a shelter too large because shared body heat is lost in such a situation. Make it just big enough to accommodate the three of them and depend on each other to stay warm.

She decided on a tiny wigwam, primarily because there were scores of short spruce branches (perhaps from the earthquake and eruption) lying close by. First she lined the floor with pine boughs, moss, and leaves, and then she set about fashioning their temporary home. She poked a dozen branches into the soft ground and then tilted them toward the middle, securing them at the top with strong vines. It was already starting to look like a wigwam. Next she tied bark, ferns, sticks and pine boughs to the sides, being careful not to leave gaps—except for the entranceway. When the latticework was completed, she took large globs of mud from a nearby bog and slapped it on the sides and on the top. She repeated this process endlessly, until she was satisfied that when the mud dried, the wigwam would be snug as she could make it.

Now if only the rain wouldn't come too soon and spoil everything.

Janie built her fire close to the entrance of Rachel's shelter, but not so close the smoke would cause problems. She used Justin's cigarette lighter to start the tinder, and then watched as the flames leapt to the twigs and later to the crisscrossed logs.

Rachel put her hand on her sister's shoulder. "A bit easier than all those fires we started with Justin's woodsy contraptions in the Bitterroots. I think I'm going to start carrying a cigarette lighter myself."

"Just don't start smoking," said Janie.

"You don't think it would make me look cool and sophisticated?"

"Stupid and ignorant," said Janie.

The smoke from the campfire was now mixing with the south wind to blow against the mud walls of the wigwam to hasten the drying process. Rachel watched with satisfaction. "Not a bad little house, eh?"

Janie nodded. "It'll rain tonight. Looks dry in there."

"Hope so."

Justin returned with a yellowish-brown fawn slung over his shoulder.

"Oh, no!" Janie exclaimed. "He's a baby. How could you?"

"He was stuck in a thicket. I didn't even have to throw my stick. Just walked up and whacked him over the head. He didn't suffer."

Janie winced; but Rachel said, "I'll gut him—want to help, Janie?"

"Never."

"Will you at least help us eat him?"

Janie sighed. "Suppose so."

The rain held off long enough for the mud walls of the wigwam to harden and for the young people to prepare and cook their meal. When they'd eaten their full, they crawled into the shelter just as the heavens opened.

The rain fell heavily for about thirty minutes and then changed to a light drizzle for an extended period. The teenagers didn't stay perfectly dry, but they felt warm and content.

Janie smiled sheepishly as she removed an object from her jacket pocket.

"What have you got there?" asked Rachel.

"After dinner snack."

"Berries?"

Janie shook her head. "Roast fawn."

Justin said, "That must be the sour smell in here."

"No—the meat smells sweet," said Janie. "It's something else. I noticed it, too."

Rachel got to her knees and put her nose against the packed walls. "I think I know," she said. "My fault. The bog mud I used for sealing smells like a dinosaur urinated in it."

"Yuck," said Janie.

"Won't hurt us," Justin said. "Wish the smell was our biggest problem in life."

The return route over the
hills to the bend in the Yuktapah was much shorter than the circuitous path of the teenagers, so Idaho Joe and Montana Mike didn't find it necessary to spend the night on the trail. They arrived back at the Bilboa and Barnes campsite well before dark.

After looking around carefully Joe said, "No one's been here—good. Rescue operations are probably concentrating on the Glacier Lake area."

Mike entered the primary tent and came out again with a frown on his face. "Wait a minute. Something's wrong."

"Wrong? How?"

"On the table in there—it's missing."

Joe was growing impatient. "What's missing? What're you talking about?"

"The Smith and Wesson fifty caliber double-action revolver. It was on the table when we left. I didn't carry it because I've got the rifle and the forty-five, and the double-action weighs a ton. But I know it was there. It couldn't just disappear."

"You're crazy. No one's been here. You're mixed up."

"It was there, and I know one thing. A bear didn't go into that tent and steal it."

Joe shrugged.

Shortly before the return of
Mike and Joe to the outfitters' camp, Rex and Martha Carlson buzzed the area several times.

"No one here either," said Martha. "Maybe the hunters joined up with the four fishermen to try to hike out. The river was clogged for a long time. They might have rejected a canoe escape."

"Maybe," said Rex.

Rex and Martha hadn't been surprised to see that the fishermen's campsite on the Yuktapah sandspit was wiped out, with no visible signs it had even existed. "Think they took our advice and moved?" asked Rex.

"They weren't that smart."

He nodded.

And now, looking down at the Barnes and Bilboa site, Martha said, "We could put down, explore the area on foot."

"Low on gas—got to get back. And rescue teams are already in the area or close to it. We'll stay alert for signs of the kids on our way home."

"If any fourteen-year-olds can survive down there, ours can," Martha said.

"The best and the brightest," said Rex.

24
Downriver

There was no need for
Justin to search for food the following morning, since there was plenty of leftover roast fawn and the hillsides were alive with edible berries. As for inedible varieties, Justin was knowledgeable enough to warn off the twins.

With their jacket pockets stuffed with food, the trio headed for the upper Yuktapah.

At midmorning Rachel noticed what appeared to be a large multicolored boulder thirty or forty feet south of the animal path. But the closer she looked, the less the object resembled a rock. It was permeated with red and silver streaks that gleamed in the sunlight. What kind of a rock shone red and silver? She stopped and walked closer, asking the others to wait a minute. When she got close enough to realize what she was looking at, she gulped and stumbled back toward Justin and Janie.

Janie said, "What, Rachel? What is it?"

"Bruno," said Rachel. "Dead Bruno. At least I think he's dead."

"Is he moving?" asked Justin.

"No."

"Then he's dead. Bears don't play possum. They're up front about their intentions. They don't lie in wait, trying to trick us."

They went to examine Bruno's carcass.

"Can't have been dead too long," said Justin, "—maybe an hour…flies, but no buzzards yet. The bull moose tore him up."

"You were right, Justin, about him creeping off to die," said Janie, "but I still feel sorry for him."