It was a warm night. The sky, a deep crimson colour, was ablaze with millions of tiny twinkling stars. They seemed to be smiling down on the world as it lay, as though asleep, under a soft canopy of reddish moonlight. It was a night ordained, reflected Katrin, later. A night which would change the course of her life forever.
Katrin sat with her back to the hills and her face to the fire. The flames leapt and danced with vivacity, now shooting into the sky as though to lay hold of the stars, now retreating into the ground, but only to shoot back up again with even more vigour and determination. Katrin’s older sister, Meredith, who sat next to her on the low, flattish log which they had adopted as a bench, appeared to be in a trance as she watched a delicate ribbon of smoke wind its way into the night sky and disappear entirely from view. Her large, brown eyes stared unblinkingly into a land that only she could see; a land far, far away and yet drawing nearer every day, a land where she was finally able to lead the comfortable, normal life which she had so longed for. With a contented sigh she pulled herself back into reality and cast a loving glance at the shiny gold-plated ring on her ring-finger. The tiny diamonds looked even more beautiful in such a light, and they seemed to reflect every warm shade the night was graciously bestowing over shrouded creation.
“Just think,” said Meredith, combing her long, glossy curls with her fingers, “in less than a month I’ll have a real chair, and a real bed, and a real house...”
“I know- a real life. I hear you say it so often now.” Katrin’s voice betrayed her emotion.
“Aw, c’mon Katrin,” said Meredith, putting an arm around her sister’s shoulders. “You know this type of life just isn’t for me. All those nights lying on the ground in sub-zero temperatures; it doesn’t do anything for me anymore.”
“I think you’re lying,” said Katrin, resolutely. “I think you really do enjoy life in the wilderness. Remember last week, when you said how wonderful you felt after climbing that mountain which was higher than any we’d ever tackled before? You said there was nothing like the feeling of pushing past your own limits. I heard you say it, I even wrote it in my diary. I think you’re lying to yourself. I think you want Simon to think that you’re like every other girl, that you want to cook and sew and be a housewife all your life and run about picking up his dirty socks and starching his ties- whatever starching is. I can see through you, you know. After all, I am your sister.”
Meredith’s face showed signs of amusement, although she was trying desperately hard to suppress the smile which sought to break out over her face and gain full lordship over her expression.
“You just don’t want me to go, because then you’ll be lumped with mum and dad again,” she ejected.
“It’s not that,” said Katrin, staring glumly at the toe of her boot. “It’s just... well, maybe it’s partly to do with that, but... “
“It won’t be all that bad,” Meredith tried. “It’ll be nice to be back in the caravan for a bit- you’ll be able to have nice hot showers again.”
“That’s the only bit I’m looking forward to,” said Katrin, dismally.
“Oh, you’ll be fine,” said Meredith, faking a grin that even the Cheshire Cat would have been proud of. “Don’t look so disconsolate. Remember, only two more months and you’ll be back at Gran’s, and then you’ll get to see all your friends again.”
“If they’ve not all moved away by then,” said Katrin with a sigh. “Why can’t you and Simon just get married over here, and then he could explore with us, you know, join our team?”
“Because,” said Meredith with a laugh, “Simon would rather thrown away his football collection than become an explorer. I’m going back to Scotland in a fortnight, Katrin, and that’s final.”
Katrin continued to stare glumly at the toe of her boot. The night was growing peculiarly still and quiet; even the birds had hushed their singing. The flames were beginning to diminish a little in height, but certainly not in vigour. The fire seemed more alive than ever as it crackled and hissed and leapt and danced as though it had a mind of its own.
Then, all of a sudden, the stillness was shattered by a shriek. A shrill, ear-piercing shriek that sent shivers up and down Katrin’s spine.
“What was that?” she whispered, clutching Meredith’s arm.
“I... I don’t know,” said Meredith, her face seized with alarm. “Maybe it was a... a cougar...”
“Oh, Meredith, it sounded so near...” cried Katrin, in a bare whisper. “But it... can’t... it won’t... come near the fire?”
“No, I don’t think so,” said Meredith, slowly. “Katrin, take my hand. There. Now all we can do is wait...”
The two girls sat close together, their wide eyes peering desperately into the darkness for any sign of their predator. A minute passed, two minutes. The tall pine trees in the distance swayed deceptively in a gentle breeze, and Katrin thought she could make out the outline of something crouching among them. The girls’ hands became icy with fright, and the pounding of their hearts seemed to resound in the night air like a thousand steel drums in concerto. Five minutes passed, and yet the silhouette between the trees remained motionless.
At last, Katrin spoke up.
“Meredith, what do you think it is? I don’t think it’s big enough to be a cougar. Do you see it, that shape between the trees?”
“I see it, and I don’t think it’s big enough to be a cougar, either. But whatever it is, it lies so still, almost as if it were...”
“Dead?” Katrin let go of her sister’s hand. “Do you think so? But what about that scream?”
“Perhaps it was shot?” suggested Meredith.
“Shot? But there wasn’t a gunshot- we would have heard it. What if it isn’t dead, Meredith? Shouldn’t we page Dad? I know they’re on the other side of the mountain, but...
“Katrin, listen!” said Meredith, putting a finger to her lips. “Do you hear that?”
“Hear what?”
“That, that noise. It’s like... it’s like... like a baby crying.”
Katrin’s eyes widened with astonishment as she, too, became recipient to the very quiet and yet unmistakable sound of the feeble cries of a tiny infant. Where it came from she was uncertain, but it was certainly no figment of her sister’s imagination.
“Oh, Meredith, I hear it! It’s... it’s awful! But surely you don’t think... it wasn’t the scream of a child that we heard! I don’t like this, Meredith. Not one bit. We really ought to page Dad.”
“Sssshhh,” whispered Meredith, laying a hand on Katrin’s shoulder. “I’m going to go and investigate. You can stay here if you like, but I must find out where this child is. I so hope it’s not hurt.”
“You’re crazy!” cried Katrin, catching Meredith’s arm as the older girl bravely stood to her feet. “What if it’s a trap? What if that thing between the trees really is a cougar, and it’s just waiting for one of us to make a move before... before it... Please, Meredith, don’t be so stupid!”
“I’m going over there,” said Meredith defiantly, and pulled her arm free. “Stay here, watch out for me.”
“Meredith...”
But it was too late. Meredith’s tall frame disappeared into the darkness, armed only with a broken-off piece of log which she had lit for a torch in the now-faltering fire. Any respect for her sister’s courage was swallowed up in the raging whirlpool of fear and despair which had seized Katrin’s entire body with the most violent force, thrusting her into a place where she felt all alone, defenceless and at the mercy of a vicious wild beast who was plotting his attack with more skilfulness than that of a surgeon. But she followed her sister with her eyes, never allowing them- even for a moment- to roam from the stately, silhouetted figure, and that small, helpless, flickering light. She could watch. She could do nothing else, but she could watch.
Wednesday, 7 April 2010
Chapter Two
After what seemed like an eternity, Meredith’s voice came ringing through the night air with a peculiar tone; whether it was fear or relief, Katrin couldn’t quite tell.
“Katrin, Katrin, come quick! And bring my jumper.”
Katrin picked up Meredith’s jumper and tentatively stood up. She could barely make out the flickering light coming from between the trees; nevertheless, one foot in front of the other braved she, until she was standing by her sister’s side.
She let out a sharp cry when she saw what her sister was beholding. Meredith had an expression on her face that Katrin had never seen before. Lying sprawled out by her feet was not a wild cat, as Katrin had suspected, but the body of a young woman. Her long, dark hair lay spread out like a mantle around her small, white face, and while one arm was stretched above her head, the other rested close to her chest where the tail feathers of an arrow protruded, betraying her cause of death.
“Oh, Meredith,” whispered Katrin, clapping a hand to her mouth. “How awful!”
“But look,” said Meredith, and drew Katrin’s attention to something she was holding. At first it was simply a bundle of cloth, peculiar and yellowish, but on closer inspection Katrin became aware of two tiny, pink hands sticking out from amongst the cloth, and a tiny pink head, adorned with a spattering of fine, dark, down-like hair.
“A baby!” gasped Katrin.
“Yes... it was a baby after all. It was lying on the ground next to the woman, crying something awful. I suppose she must... have been... its mother.”
Katrin looked from the bundle of cloth to the woman and back again, and slowly shook her head.
“My jumper,” said Meredith, with an air of responsibility that immediately put Katrin at ease, or at least, as much at ease as she could be, given the circumstances. She handed her the jumper and Meredith gently wrapped it around the baby as a second layer.
“The child’s cold,” said Meredith, wistfully. “The cloth she’s wrapped in is so thin. Have you noticed the woman’s clothing, Katrin? It’s so peculiar.”
“It isn’t half,” said Katrin, taking a mental note of the thin, muslin dress and apron which looked as though it were made of sackcloth.
“Indians,” muttered Meredith, gently stroking the baby’s tiny hand.
“You’ve just confirmed my suspicion, too,” said Katrin. “Oh, Meredith. I really don’t like this.”
“I don’t either, Katrin, but I’ve got something else to worry about now!” Meredith gently rocked the thick bundle containing the baby as it began to whimper. “It looks like we’re landed with him- or her- and yet I don’t know the first thing about babies!”
“Why don’t we take it back over to the fire?” suggested Katrin, quietly.
“Good idea. It’ll be warmer over there. Here, take the torch for me.”
Katrin duly relieved Meredith of the torch, and the two slowly made their way back over to the fire, the bundle of baby safely cradled in Meredith’s arms. When at last they reached the girls’ small camp, Meredith sat down on the log while Katrin disappeared into the tent. She re-emerged a second later with panic written all over her face.
“Meredith, oh Meredith, it’s gone! The pager- someone’s stolen the pager!”
“Are you quite sure?” Meredith stood to her feet, baby and all. “Try your pockets, your bags. It’s got to be around somewhere.”
“But I left it on top of the map; I put it there just before you called me to dinner. And now it’s gone. Someone’s stolen it, Meredith.”
Both girls’ hearts were racing as stories of Indian lootings raced through their minds. It had happened to Dad once when he had been a young boy. And to a friend of their mum’s. In that instance, the Indians had cleared them of everything they’d owned, and then they came back the night after and kidnapped her sister. Never to be seen again.
“Just look in your pockets,” said Meredith, coolly. She was trying desperately hard to disguise her true feelings at that moment. The baby’s heart-wrenching cries were not helping to calm her inner turmoil, which sought to express itself in the undignified form of a scream. She knew that the sooner they got away from here, the better.
“If you find it, give me a shout.”
“Katrin, Katrin, come quick! And bring my jumper.”
Katrin picked up Meredith’s jumper and tentatively stood up. She could barely make out the flickering light coming from between the trees; nevertheless, one foot in front of the other braved she, until she was standing by her sister’s side.
She let out a sharp cry when she saw what her sister was beholding. Meredith had an expression on her face that Katrin had never seen before. Lying sprawled out by her feet was not a wild cat, as Katrin had suspected, but the body of a young woman. Her long, dark hair lay spread out like a mantle around her small, white face, and while one arm was stretched above her head, the other rested close to her chest where the tail feathers of an arrow protruded, betraying her cause of death.
“Oh, Meredith,” whispered Katrin, clapping a hand to her mouth. “How awful!”
“But look,” said Meredith, and drew Katrin’s attention to something she was holding. At first it was simply a bundle of cloth, peculiar and yellowish, but on closer inspection Katrin became aware of two tiny, pink hands sticking out from amongst the cloth, and a tiny pink head, adorned with a spattering of fine, dark, down-like hair.
“A baby!” gasped Katrin.
“Yes... it was a baby after all. It was lying on the ground next to the woman, crying something awful. I suppose she must... have been... its mother.”
Katrin looked from the bundle of cloth to the woman and back again, and slowly shook her head.
“My jumper,” said Meredith, with an air of responsibility that immediately put Katrin at ease, or at least, as much at ease as she could be, given the circumstances. She handed her the jumper and Meredith gently wrapped it around the baby as a second layer.
“The child’s cold,” said Meredith, wistfully. “The cloth she’s wrapped in is so thin. Have you noticed the woman’s clothing, Katrin? It’s so peculiar.”
“It isn’t half,” said Katrin, taking a mental note of the thin, muslin dress and apron which looked as though it were made of sackcloth.
“Indians,” muttered Meredith, gently stroking the baby’s tiny hand.
“You’ve just confirmed my suspicion, too,” said Katrin. “Oh, Meredith. I really don’t like this.”
“I don’t either, Katrin, but I’ve got something else to worry about now!” Meredith gently rocked the thick bundle containing the baby as it began to whimper. “It looks like we’re landed with him- or her- and yet I don’t know the first thing about babies!”
“Why don’t we take it back over to the fire?” suggested Katrin, quietly.
“Good idea. It’ll be warmer over there. Here, take the torch for me.”
Katrin duly relieved Meredith of the torch, and the two slowly made their way back over to the fire, the bundle of baby safely cradled in Meredith’s arms. When at last they reached the girls’ small camp, Meredith sat down on the log while Katrin disappeared into the tent. She re-emerged a second later with panic written all over her face.
“Meredith, oh Meredith, it’s gone! The pager- someone’s stolen the pager!”
“Are you quite sure?” Meredith stood to her feet, baby and all. “Try your pockets, your bags. It’s got to be around somewhere.”
“But I left it on top of the map; I put it there just before you called me to dinner. And now it’s gone. Someone’s stolen it, Meredith.”
Both girls’ hearts were racing as stories of Indian lootings raced through their minds. It had happened to Dad once when he had been a young boy. And to a friend of their mum’s. In that instance, the Indians had cleared them of everything they’d owned, and then they came back the night after and kidnapped her sister. Never to be seen again.
“Just look in your pockets,” said Meredith, coolly. She was trying desperately hard to disguise her true feelings at that moment. The baby’s heart-wrenching cries were not helping to calm her inner turmoil, which sought to express itself in the undignified form of a scream. She knew that the sooner they got away from here, the better.
“If you find it, give me a shout.”
Chapter Three
Katrin literally turned the tent inside-out in searching for the pager, but her efforts proved to be futile, for the pager was not to be found. Finally, choking back the tears, Katrin sat down next to her sister and eyed the wailing child in her arms with mock curiosity. It wouldn’t do to have an outburst now, she thought. Not when Meredith was obviously so distressed over the child’s predicament.
“Maybe we should try feeding it,” suggested Katrin, absent-mindedly.
“So we’ve lost the pager, then?” asked Meredith, staring hopelessly at her sister’s timorous expression.
“Um, yeah,” said Katrin, twiddling a strand of her long, blondish hair around her finger. The tears were beginning to smart her eyes; she wasn’t sure if she could hold them in for much longer.
At last, the baby stopped crying. Both girls sat quietly for a few minutes, each lost in their own thoughts. There was very little that one could say in such circumstances. The fire was beginning to die, the night was encroaching, and there was a peculiar coldness in the air which made Katrin shiver. A solitary tear slipped unbidden from her eye and rolled down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away with the back of her hand.
“To bed with you, Katrin,” said Meredith, none-too-harshly.
“To bed?” Katrin cast a side-ways glance at her older sister.
“You heard me. I’m not trying to boss you about, but you’ll feel much better in the morning if you manage to get some sleep. Sitting up and worrying ourselves silly won’t do a blind bit of good.”
“You’re right,” agreed Katrin, standing to her feet. “Things always seem better in the morning, somehow. But what are you going to do with the baby?”
“I’ll take her... I think it’s a her... into the tent with me after a bit, and see if she’ll settle down beside me.”
Katrin reached over and gently patted the bundle. The baby looked up at her with unblinking eyes.
“Poor wee thing,” said Katrin, shaking her head.
Two pairs of eyes followed her as she quietly slipped into the tent. As she took of her shoes, pulled on a sweatshirt and wriggled into her sleeping-bag, she wondered if life would ever be the same again. The shadow of death had drawn nearer to her than it ever had before, and it had left something- something in the shape of a small, helpless baby- for her and her sister to contend with. She hardly slept a wink that night, and when she did perchance happen to drift off, the face of the young woman, cold with death, and her chilling scream, thrust her out of dream-land and caused her to wake up with a start. Sometimes she wondered if she could actually hear something in the distance, something like the beat of a tom-tom drum. But perhaps she was letting her imagination run too far away with her.
“Maybe we should try feeding it,” suggested Katrin, absent-mindedly.
“So we’ve lost the pager, then?” asked Meredith, staring hopelessly at her sister’s timorous expression.
“Um, yeah,” said Katrin, twiddling a strand of her long, blondish hair around her finger. The tears were beginning to smart her eyes; she wasn’t sure if she could hold them in for much longer.
At last, the baby stopped crying. Both girls sat quietly for a few minutes, each lost in their own thoughts. There was very little that one could say in such circumstances. The fire was beginning to die, the night was encroaching, and there was a peculiar coldness in the air which made Katrin shiver. A solitary tear slipped unbidden from her eye and rolled down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away with the back of her hand.
“To bed with you, Katrin,” said Meredith, none-too-harshly.
“To bed?” Katrin cast a side-ways glance at her older sister.
“You heard me. I’m not trying to boss you about, but you’ll feel much better in the morning if you manage to get some sleep. Sitting up and worrying ourselves silly won’t do a blind bit of good.”
“You’re right,” agreed Katrin, standing to her feet. “Things always seem better in the morning, somehow. But what are you going to do with the baby?”
“I’ll take her... I think it’s a her... into the tent with me after a bit, and see if she’ll settle down beside me.”
Katrin reached over and gently patted the bundle. The baby looked up at her with unblinking eyes.
“Poor wee thing,” said Katrin, shaking her head.
Two pairs of eyes followed her as she quietly slipped into the tent. As she took of her shoes, pulled on a sweatshirt and wriggled into her sleeping-bag, she wondered if life would ever be the same again. The shadow of death had drawn nearer to her than it ever had before, and it had left something- something in the shape of a small, helpless baby- for her and her sister to contend with. She hardly slept a wink that night, and when she did perchance happen to drift off, the face of the young woman, cold with death, and her chilling scream, thrust her out of dream-land and caused her to wake up with a start. Sometimes she wondered if she could actually hear something in the distance, something like the beat of a tom-tom drum. But perhaps she was letting her imagination run too far away with her.
Chapter Four
Both girls were very glad that the morning was a cheery one. The snow-topped mountain peaks in the distance were dazzling-white against a cloudless, brilliant-blue sky as Katrin stepped out of the tent, stretched and yawned. She had almost forgotten the events of the previous night until she noticed Meredith sitting on the log with the baby on her lap, attempting to give it some milk from a flask. She was obviously having much difficulty, as the milk was running everywhere.
Although Meredith had removed the cloth wrap from the baby and she was now, rather ridiculously, clad in a flannel night-shirt of Meredith’s, Katrin’s gaze was quickly averted to something else. It was the expression on her sister’s face. It made her feel a little uneasy, seeing that look in her sister’s eyes. It was a look which she had never seen before, a look of peculiar tenderness and almost... but she could hardly bring herself to acknowledge it. It seemed to foreshadow something of Meredith’s life-to-come; a life which would separate them, forever. But there, she wouldn’t think about it. There were far more pressing matters to worry about at the moment.
“Did you sleep OK?” asked Meredith, glancing only long enough at her sister to acknowledge her presence, then quickly redirecting her attention to the pain-staking process of feeding the baby.
“Not really,” said Katrin, perhaps a little more coolly than she had intended.
“Thankfully the baby slept last night,” said Meredith, wiping its small mouth with a tissue.
“What about you?” asked Katrin, sitting down on the log beside her.
“Oh, I slept on and off,” came Meredith’s reply, with a yawn. “But I couldn’t really, worrying about the baby and everything.”
“But she’s not your responsibility,” snapped Katrin, the tone of her voice betraying her emotion.
Meredith looked up. She looked surprised, even injured by Meredith’s ejection.
“What do you mean, she’s not my responsibility? Who else’s responsibility is she then?”
“Well, I...”
“I think we’re both aware that this child no longer has a mother, and since we found her and there’s no-one else within a radius of at least ten miles from here, it makes her our responsibility. You’re in this as well, you know.”
“I didn’t mean...”
“Katrin, could you please get me a banana. I’m not getting very far with this milk.”
Katrin sighed, stood up and went to look for the container with the fruit. She hadn’t meant to be so... straightforward. And Meredith was looking so run-down. But it was no wonder; after all, they had both had a big fright.
Meredith wondered what was keeping Katrin so long as the minutes ticked by and yet she did not appear with the banana. The baby was beginning to fret again. Meredith put down the flask and tenderly cuddled her close. The child’s hands, which were no bigger than fifty pence coins, tightly clasped around her fingers. “I wonder what your name is,” whispered Meredith, dreamily.
But the magic of the moment was promptly broken by an anxious cry which came from the door of the tent. Katrin came running out presently, wringing her hands, with an expression which could only have been contrived by the considerable contortion of her facial muscles.
“Oh Katrin, our food’s gone! Almost all of it! First the pager, and now this!”
“What do you mean, it’s... gone? Are you sure?”
“I’m positive. I’ve been through all the containers. All that’s left is a packet of crackers, some blueberries and one of your silly low-fat yoghurts. At least whoever stole the rest of the stuff was considerate enough to leave that.”
“I can’t believe this, Katrin. As if we haven’t got enough problems. Well, there’s only one thing for it now.”
“What?”
“We have to find our way back to the caravan.”
“You’re crazy!” cried Katrin. “How on earth could we? It could take days, and there’s the mountain to get round somehow. And we’ve got the baby.”
“I know all this, Katrin, but what else do you suggest we do? Mum and Dad said that unless they hear from us they’ll assume everything’s OK, and come and get us on Tuesday- which is five days away yet. Since we’ve lost the pager there’s no way of contacting them, so we’ll just have to find our way back to the caravan. Otherwise we’ll starve to death- or at least get very sick- before Mum and Dad ever realise something’s gone wrong. Maybe if we hurry, we could reach the caravan before tomorrow night. Dad did say it was a day and a half’s journey, didn’t he?”
“He said at least,” sighed Katrin. “But I think I’d rather stay here and starve to death than get lost on the mountain somewhere and be eaten alive by wild animals.”
“But we’ve got the baby to think about, too,” said Meredith, with an exasperated roll of her eyes. “If there’s any hope at all of getting her to safety, we’ve just go to take any of the consequent risks in our stride. Besides, it appears that it’s going to be too risky now to remain here. If there are Indians nearby...”
“There are Indians nearby,” stated Katrin, matter-of-factly.
“Did you hear those drums last night?” asked Meredith, raising an eyebrow.
“Yes... I heard something. I thought I was imagining things. It was an awful sound; it made my hair stand on end.”
“To think that they’re back... just wait till Dad finds out. I’m sure he’ll be climbing the walls to get some footage of them.”
“I don’t want anything to do with Indians. Except, of course... well, we’ve been landed with the baby, so there’s not much we can do about her. But speaking of Dad, don’t you think we better get our things together if we want to leave soon?”
“So you agree with my plan now, then?” asked Meredith, ignoring her sister’s comment about the baby.
“As you say, there’s no other option,” lamented Katrin.
“Then let’s get a move on before you change your mind. You can be as fickle as the weather sometimes.”
Katrin glowered at her sister, even though Meredith’s almost light-hearted tone made her feel a little more at ease. They both hope that, even for just a few days, the weather would renounce its foresaid fickle-headedness and show them a little kindness as they endeavoured to climb the mountain. The weather certainly looked fairly promising; the sky remained perfectly clear, and there was a hardly a wind to ruffle the daintiest of leaves. They quickly set to work packing up all their belongings, or at least, what was left of them. Once Meredith had succeeded in feeding the baby a small handful of blueberries, they were ready to set off.
As they finally left the clearing, armed and rigged with more equipment than would generally have been thought of as healthy for two young girls to carry on their own, they were very glad to leave it behind, all nostalgic notions having been purged from them by the overshadowing gloom of death which still lurked in the atmosphere. Even the baby seemed glad to leave; she ceased her incessant sobbing and nestled, quite to Meredith’s delight, on her shoulder with a contented sigh.
Although Meredith had removed the cloth wrap from the baby and she was now, rather ridiculously, clad in a flannel night-shirt of Meredith’s, Katrin’s gaze was quickly averted to something else. It was the expression on her sister’s face. It made her feel a little uneasy, seeing that look in her sister’s eyes. It was a look which she had never seen before, a look of peculiar tenderness and almost... but she could hardly bring herself to acknowledge it. It seemed to foreshadow something of Meredith’s life-to-come; a life which would separate them, forever. But there, she wouldn’t think about it. There were far more pressing matters to worry about at the moment.
“Did you sleep OK?” asked Meredith, glancing only long enough at her sister to acknowledge her presence, then quickly redirecting her attention to the pain-staking process of feeding the baby.
“Not really,” said Katrin, perhaps a little more coolly than she had intended.
“Thankfully the baby slept last night,” said Meredith, wiping its small mouth with a tissue.
“What about you?” asked Katrin, sitting down on the log beside her.
“Oh, I slept on and off,” came Meredith’s reply, with a yawn. “But I couldn’t really, worrying about the baby and everything.”
“But she’s not your responsibility,” snapped Katrin, the tone of her voice betraying her emotion.
Meredith looked up. She looked surprised, even injured by Meredith’s ejection.
“What do you mean, she’s not my responsibility? Who else’s responsibility is she then?”
“Well, I...”
“I think we’re both aware that this child no longer has a mother, and since we found her and there’s no-one else within a radius of at least ten miles from here, it makes her our responsibility. You’re in this as well, you know.”
“I didn’t mean...”
“Katrin, could you please get me a banana. I’m not getting very far with this milk.”
Katrin sighed, stood up and went to look for the container with the fruit. She hadn’t meant to be so... straightforward. And Meredith was looking so run-down. But it was no wonder; after all, they had both had a big fright.
Meredith wondered what was keeping Katrin so long as the minutes ticked by and yet she did not appear with the banana. The baby was beginning to fret again. Meredith put down the flask and tenderly cuddled her close. The child’s hands, which were no bigger than fifty pence coins, tightly clasped around her fingers. “I wonder what your name is,” whispered Meredith, dreamily.
But the magic of the moment was promptly broken by an anxious cry which came from the door of the tent. Katrin came running out presently, wringing her hands, with an expression which could only have been contrived by the considerable contortion of her facial muscles.
“Oh Katrin, our food’s gone! Almost all of it! First the pager, and now this!”
“What do you mean, it’s... gone? Are you sure?”
“I’m positive. I’ve been through all the containers. All that’s left is a packet of crackers, some blueberries and one of your silly low-fat yoghurts. At least whoever stole the rest of the stuff was considerate enough to leave that.”
“I can’t believe this, Katrin. As if we haven’t got enough problems. Well, there’s only one thing for it now.”
“What?”
“We have to find our way back to the caravan.”
“You’re crazy!” cried Katrin. “How on earth could we? It could take days, and there’s the mountain to get round somehow. And we’ve got the baby.”
“I know all this, Katrin, but what else do you suggest we do? Mum and Dad said that unless they hear from us they’ll assume everything’s OK, and come and get us on Tuesday- which is five days away yet. Since we’ve lost the pager there’s no way of contacting them, so we’ll just have to find our way back to the caravan. Otherwise we’ll starve to death- or at least get very sick- before Mum and Dad ever realise something’s gone wrong. Maybe if we hurry, we could reach the caravan before tomorrow night. Dad did say it was a day and a half’s journey, didn’t he?”
“He said at least,” sighed Katrin. “But I think I’d rather stay here and starve to death than get lost on the mountain somewhere and be eaten alive by wild animals.”
“But we’ve got the baby to think about, too,” said Meredith, with an exasperated roll of her eyes. “If there’s any hope at all of getting her to safety, we’ve just go to take any of the consequent risks in our stride. Besides, it appears that it’s going to be too risky now to remain here. If there are Indians nearby...”
“There are Indians nearby,” stated Katrin, matter-of-factly.
“Did you hear those drums last night?” asked Meredith, raising an eyebrow.
“Yes... I heard something. I thought I was imagining things. It was an awful sound; it made my hair stand on end.”
“To think that they’re back... just wait till Dad finds out. I’m sure he’ll be climbing the walls to get some footage of them.”
“I don’t want anything to do with Indians. Except, of course... well, we’ve been landed with the baby, so there’s not much we can do about her. But speaking of Dad, don’t you think we better get our things together if we want to leave soon?”
“So you agree with my plan now, then?” asked Meredith, ignoring her sister’s comment about the baby.
“As you say, there’s no other option,” lamented Katrin.
“Then let’s get a move on before you change your mind. You can be as fickle as the weather sometimes.”
Katrin glowered at her sister, even though Meredith’s almost light-hearted tone made her feel a little more at ease. They both hope that, even for just a few days, the weather would renounce its foresaid fickle-headedness and show them a little kindness as they endeavoured to climb the mountain. The weather certainly looked fairly promising; the sky remained perfectly clear, and there was a hardly a wind to ruffle the daintiest of leaves. They quickly set to work packing up all their belongings, or at least, what was left of them. Once Meredith had succeeded in feeding the baby a small handful of blueberries, they were ready to set off.
As they finally left the clearing, armed and rigged with more equipment than would generally have been thought of as healthy for two young girls to carry on their own, they were very glad to leave it behind, all nostalgic notions having been purged from them by the overshadowing gloom of death which still lurked in the atmosphere. Even the baby seemed glad to leave; she ceased her incessant sobbing and nestled, quite to Meredith’s delight, on her shoulder with a contented sigh.
Chapter Five
The track to the mountain was a long, winding one which wove its way through the heart of the forest, skirted around the edge of the lake and meandered its way through a deep, uninhabited valley with tall grass which was renowned for its beauty but generally thought of as a dangerous place. The girls had consulted their map and were quite certain that there was no other route- or at least, no other route that wouldn’t take them at least a week to traverse- so they had resolved that they would just have to brave whatever came their way. However, they were quite taken aback by the sudden revelation of their first difficulty. They had reached a river- a wide, deep river with a strong current- and, as far as they were aware, they had no means of crossing it.
“Just great!” exclaimed Katrin, throwing up her hands in desperation. “Obstacle number one already, and we’re not even an hour into the journey.”
“Have you never heard the expression, ‘where there’s a will, there’s a way’?” Meredith smiled, a little too patronisingly for Katrin’s liking. “First thing’s first, we need to stop for a break. The baby’s getting fretful. I bet she’s hungry.”
Meredith, whilst carefully holding the baby in one arm, slipped the massive rucksack from off her shoulder with the other. Katrin put down the coil of rope she was holding and went to assist her.
“You know, Katrin,” said Meredith, managing a smile, “I’m so glad you’re here. Even if we were to never get across this river...”
“Now who’s not looking on the bright side?” retorted Katrin, setting down Meredith’s rucksack on the grass.
“Even if we never were get across...” continued Meredith, “I know we’d survive much longer just because you’re here. You’re far more practical than I am. I could never have survived out in the wilderness on my own… you seem to have the knack of an explorer.”
Katrin sat down cross-legged and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Well, maybe I’m more practical, but you’ve got more common sense and... I suppose you might call it... life experience. Even though you’re not that old.”
“You’re just trying desperately hard to find something to compliment me about,” laughed Meredith. “And what d’you mean, ‘not that old’! I’m only a three-and-a-bit years older than you, you know.”
Katrin smiled. But her smile was only skin deep. A twinge of pain had shot through her as she realised how much she would miss her sister when she went back to Scotland. Or was that now if she went back to Scotland? The two- or three- of them would have to survive the journey back to the caravan first. There seemed to be so much going against them already...
“Oh, I guess you’re pretty young from like... Mum and Dad’s point of view,” Katrin admitted, trying to put all the troublesome thoughts away. “Besides, what would I know? I’m ‘barely out of my childhood’, according to you!” She stuck out her tongue.
“Well, so you are!” Meredith shook her long, glossy curls with the air of someone who really did have much ‘life experience’.
The baby’s sudden cries put an abrupt end to their attempt at joviality. Meredith quickly gathered up the sobbing child and went to rummage about in her rucksack for the flask. Once she had found it, she brought it out and sat down on a nearby boulder, supporting the baby with one hand and offering the flask to her with the other. The baby stopped crying, gave a loud hiccup and proceeded to hungrily gulp down the milk like a famished wolf cub.
“Just how much milk do we have left?” asked Katrin, a little anxiously.
Meredith didn’t answer at first, but she arched an eyebrow and instinctively drew the child closer.
“There’s... um... perhaps enough to last till tomorrow morning,” she said, slowly.
“Perhaps?” Katrin picked up the tone of uncertainty in her sister’s voice. “When it runs out, then what?”
Again, Meredith didn’t answer. She gently wiped the baby’s mouth and looked past her, past Katrin and up, up over the snow-topped mountain where the sun rested like a great mass of burning yellow, casting shafts of gold through the slender trees where shadows lurked, shrank and grew, where hosts of brightly-coloured flowers swayed to the tune of the gentle breeze, and tiny birds flitted from flower to flower in exultant chorus. There was something about the scene which made her feel peculiarly quiet inside, peculiarly safe and sheltered, even when there seemed to be so much danger at hand. A flicker of hope was kindled inside her at that moment.
Katrin felt that she ought not to press the matter. Surely all they could do was to try and deal with the more imminent matters, such as the fast-flowing, deep-bottomed river before them.
“Why don’t I try walking along the river a bit, and see if there isn’t a more suitable place to cross?” suggested Katrin.
“You can try, but I very much doubt there will be,” said Meredith, setting down the flask as the baby swallowed her last mouthful. “It looks pretty much the same right the way along, for as far as I can see.”
But Katrin had already turned on her heel and was jogging along steadily by the edge of the water. Her keen eyes took in every slight meander, every small rise in the embankment and every dip; she even attempted to judge the depth of the water by its colour, and noticed when there appeared to be more of an abundance of rocks, or less. Her heart began to sink as she realised that there was really very little change, or at least, not enough change to be worth relating back to her sister. Apparently the river was not going to oblige them by making it easier to cross at another point.
But then, all of a sudden, she came across something. A kind of smallish plateau in the water, wider than the rest of the river, with the banks on either side sloping at a much gentler gradient. It was round a slight bend, making it quite hidden from view to anyone standing farther up river. Jutting out from the bank nearest to Katrin was a tiny jetty, and attached to the jetty by a length of thick rope was a small, flat plank of wood which looked as though it could have been a raft, or at least, could have served the purpose of a raft.
Feeling as though she had been endued with a new lease of life, she sped back to the place where Meredith- and the baby- were waiting for her. The look on Katrin’s face told Meredith what she wanted to know long before any words were even exchanged.
“Good... news,” Katrin confirmed Meredith’s speculation between gasps for air. “I’ve... found... a plank... at the jetty...”
“Jetty? Where?”
“Down... river... a bit. We... could use... the plank... as... a raft.”
“How big is the plank?”
“Not very... big,” came Katrin’s breathless reply.
“But big enough?”
“Think so.”
“Good, then maybe you could take the baby while I get my rucksack back on.”
Katrin had no time to refuse; the baby was hastily passed into her arms as Meredith stood up and attempted to hoist the heavy rucksack back onto her shoulders. Katrin gazed down at the heavy, wriggling bundle in her arms with something like trepidation in her expression.
At first she had felt almost wary of this little smiling creature, and more than that; she could even have gone as far as to say that she felt jealous of her; jealous of the attention that her sister was showing her. But now she felt herself warming to its tiny, round, dimpled face and hands, and its curious coal-black eyes, as round as saucers, gazed intently into hers.
When they reached the jetty, Meredith held out her arms for the baby. Was it with something like reluctance that Katrin passed her back? Evidently, the child was not prone to favouritism, as the change of arms did nothing to upset her; she simply stretched out a hand to pat Meredith’s nose, as though attempting to get better acquainted with the layout of her face. Meanwhile, Katrin carefully walked to the middle of the jetty and bent down to examine the raft more carefully.
“It’s in pretty good condition, even if it is a bit small,” was her conclusion, as she straightened up to face her sister. “And there’s an oar- or something like an oar- fastened onto the side.”
“I think we ought to make several journeys on it,” decided Meredith. “I don’t mind going first with the bags, then I could come back for you and the baby.”
“I’ll go first,” said Katrin, in a tone which made it impossible for Meredith to even think about trying to persuade her otherwise. She reluctantly consented with a nod of her head, the raft was loaded up with all the bags, and at last Katrin took her position. She sat down with her knees tucked up and the oar held tightly in both hands, smiling only for Meredith’s reassurance.
“Are you sure you’re OK about this?” asked Meredith for the last time, as she clutched the baby with one hand and held the end of the rope that had secured the raft to the jetty with the other.
“I’m sure,” said Katrin, with a stubborn shake of her ponytail.
Then Meredith- with moist, trembling fingers, and all the time staring into Katrin’s face with a mournful expression, as though she were about to witness the execution of a martyr- let go of the rope. Slowly and gently, the raft began to float out onto the water.
Katrin studied the opposite embankment with the art of someone who knew all there was to know about rivers, and judged the distance from where she was to the embankment to be about fourteen metres. Not a great distance, but great enough when your heart was thumping, your hands trembling and your teeth chattering. Katrin would never have admitted it to anyone, but she had, what you might have called, a very strong dislike of the water. Even a fear.
Meredith, experiencing the very same physical symptoms of anxiety as her sister, tried to keep her voice from wavering as she called out, “How deep d’you think the water is, Katrin?”
Katrin, who was now at about the middle of the river, shrugged her shoulders and replied, more coldly than she had intended, “How am I supposed to know?”
“Use your oar,” suggested Meredith. “Stick it into the water; see if you can touch the bottom with it.”
Katrin did as her sister suggested. When she pulled the oar back out, after having touched (what she thought had been) the riverbed with it, she realised that it had touched much more than that; in fact, something had most definitely touched it. Something had taken a chunk out of the end of the oar, as well as leaving half-a-dozen teeth marks.
“Meredith, Meredith!” shrieked Katrin, pulling herself further away from the edge of the raft. “There’s something down there!”
“What do you mean, ‘something’?” Meredith’s panic was evident in the tone of her voice.
“Something’s bitten the oar, look!” She extended the oar for Meredith to see and quickly drew it back in again, afraid that she might lose balance.
“Then hurry, please!” cried Meredith, as the danger of their situation became more evident. “And whatever you do, be careful.”
“I will,” promised Katrin. She felt sick to the pit of her stomach.
“Just great!” exclaimed Katrin, throwing up her hands in desperation. “Obstacle number one already, and we’re not even an hour into the journey.”
“Have you never heard the expression, ‘where there’s a will, there’s a way’?” Meredith smiled, a little too patronisingly for Katrin’s liking. “First thing’s first, we need to stop for a break. The baby’s getting fretful. I bet she’s hungry.”
Meredith, whilst carefully holding the baby in one arm, slipped the massive rucksack from off her shoulder with the other. Katrin put down the coil of rope she was holding and went to assist her.
“You know, Katrin,” said Meredith, managing a smile, “I’m so glad you’re here. Even if we were to never get across this river...”
“Now who’s not looking on the bright side?” retorted Katrin, setting down Meredith’s rucksack on the grass.
“Even if we never were get across...” continued Meredith, “I know we’d survive much longer just because you’re here. You’re far more practical than I am. I could never have survived out in the wilderness on my own… you seem to have the knack of an explorer.”
Katrin sat down cross-legged and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Well, maybe I’m more practical, but you’ve got more common sense and... I suppose you might call it... life experience. Even though you’re not that old.”
“You’re just trying desperately hard to find something to compliment me about,” laughed Meredith. “And what d’you mean, ‘not that old’! I’m only a three-and-a-bit years older than you, you know.”
Katrin smiled. But her smile was only skin deep. A twinge of pain had shot through her as she realised how much she would miss her sister when she went back to Scotland. Or was that now if she went back to Scotland? The two- or three- of them would have to survive the journey back to the caravan first. There seemed to be so much going against them already...
“Oh, I guess you’re pretty young from like... Mum and Dad’s point of view,” Katrin admitted, trying to put all the troublesome thoughts away. “Besides, what would I know? I’m ‘barely out of my childhood’, according to you!” She stuck out her tongue.
“Well, so you are!” Meredith shook her long, glossy curls with the air of someone who really did have much ‘life experience’.
The baby’s sudden cries put an abrupt end to their attempt at joviality. Meredith quickly gathered up the sobbing child and went to rummage about in her rucksack for the flask. Once she had found it, she brought it out and sat down on a nearby boulder, supporting the baby with one hand and offering the flask to her with the other. The baby stopped crying, gave a loud hiccup and proceeded to hungrily gulp down the milk like a famished wolf cub.
“Just how much milk do we have left?” asked Katrin, a little anxiously.
Meredith didn’t answer at first, but she arched an eyebrow and instinctively drew the child closer.
“There’s... um... perhaps enough to last till tomorrow morning,” she said, slowly.
“Perhaps?” Katrin picked up the tone of uncertainty in her sister’s voice. “When it runs out, then what?”
Again, Meredith didn’t answer. She gently wiped the baby’s mouth and looked past her, past Katrin and up, up over the snow-topped mountain where the sun rested like a great mass of burning yellow, casting shafts of gold through the slender trees where shadows lurked, shrank and grew, where hosts of brightly-coloured flowers swayed to the tune of the gentle breeze, and tiny birds flitted from flower to flower in exultant chorus. There was something about the scene which made her feel peculiarly quiet inside, peculiarly safe and sheltered, even when there seemed to be so much danger at hand. A flicker of hope was kindled inside her at that moment.
Katrin felt that she ought not to press the matter. Surely all they could do was to try and deal with the more imminent matters, such as the fast-flowing, deep-bottomed river before them.
“Why don’t I try walking along the river a bit, and see if there isn’t a more suitable place to cross?” suggested Katrin.
“You can try, but I very much doubt there will be,” said Meredith, setting down the flask as the baby swallowed her last mouthful. “It looks pretty much the same right the way along, for as far as I can see.”
But Katrin had already turned on her heel and was jogging along steadily by the edge of the water. Her keen eyes took in every slight meander, every small rise in the embankment and every dip; she even attempted to judge the depth of the water by its colour, and noticed when there appeared to be more of an abundance of rocks, or less. Her heart began to sink as she realised that there was really very little change, or at least, not enough change to be worth relating back to her sister. Apparently the river was not going to oblige them by making it easier to cross at another point.
But then, all of a sudden, she came across something. A kind of smallish plateau in the water, wider than the rest of the river, with the banks on either side sloping at a much gentler gradient. It was round a slight bend, making it quite hidden from view to anyone standing farther up river. Jutting out from the bank nearest to Katrin was a tiny jetty, and attached to the jetty by a length of thick rope was a small, flat plank of wood which looked as though it could have been a raft, or at least, could have served the purpose of a raft.
Feeling as though she had been endued with a new lease of life, she sped back to the place where Meredith- and the baby- were waiting for her. The look on Katrin’s face told Meredith what she wanted to know long before any words were even exchanged.
“Good... news,” Katrin confirmed Meredith’s speculation between gasps for air. “I’ve... found... a plank... at the jetty...”
“Jetty? Where?”
“Down... river... a bit. We... could use... the plank... as... a raft.”
“How big is the plank?”
“Not very... big,” came Katrin’s breathless reply.
“But big enough?”
“Think so.”
“Good, then maybe you could take the baby while I get my rucksack back on.”
Katrin had no time to refuse; the baby was hastily passed into her arms as Meredith stood up and attempted to hoist the heavy rucksack back onto her shoulders. Katrin gazed down at the heavy, wriggling bundle in her arms with something like trepidation in her expression.
At first she had felt almost wary of this little smiling creature, and more than that; she could even have gone as far as to say that she felt jealous of her; jealous of the attention that her sister was showing her. But now she felt herself warming to its tiny, round, dimpled face and hands, and its curious coal-black eyes, as round as saucers, gazed intently into hers.
When they reached the jetty, Meredith held out her arms for the baby. Was it with something like reluctance that Katrin passed her back? Evidently, the child was not prone to favouritism, as the change of arms did nothing to upset her; she simply stretched out a hand to pat Meredith’s nose, as though attempting to get better acquainted with the layout of her face. Meanwhile, Katrin carefully walked to the middle of the jetty and bent down to examine the raft more carefully.
“It’s in pretty good condition, even if it is a bit small,” was her conclusion, as she straightened up to face her sister. “And there’s an oar- or something like an oar- fastened onto the side.”
“I think we ought to make several journeys on it,” decided Meredith. “I don’t mind going first with the bags, then I could come back for you and the baby.”
“I’ll go first,” said Katrin, in a tone which made it impossible for Meredith to even think about trying to persuade her otherwise. She reluctantly consented with a nod of her head, the raft was loaded up with all the bags, and at last Katrin took her position. She sat down with her knees tucked up and the oar held tightly in both hands, smiling only for Meredith’s reassurance.
“Are you sure you’re OK about this?” asked Meredith for the last time, as she clutched the baby with one hand and held the end of the rope that had secured the raft to the jetty with the other.
“I’m sure,” said Katrin, with a stubborn shake of her ponytail.
Then Meredith- with moist, trembling fingers, and all the time staring into Katrin’s face with a mournful expression, as though she were about to witness the execution of a martyr- let go of the rope. Slowly and gently, the raft began to float out onto the water.
Katrin studied the opposite embankment with the art of someone who knew all there was to know about rivers, and judged the distance from where she was to the embankment to be about fourteen metres. Not a great distance, but great enough when your heart was thumping, your hands trembling and your teeth chattering. Katrin would never have admitted it to anyone, but she had, what you might have called, a very strong dislike of the water. Even a fear.
Meredith, experiencing the very same physical symptoms of anxiety as her sister, tried to keep her voice from wavering as she called out, “How deep d’you think the water is, Katrin?”
Katrin, who was now at about the middle of the river, shrugged her shoulders and replied, more coldly than she had intended, “How am I supposed to know?”
“Use your oar,” suggested Meredith. “Stick it into the water; see if you can touch the bottom with it.”
Katrin did as her sister suggested. When she pulled the oar back out, after having touched (what she thought had been) the riverbed with it, she realised that it had touched much more than that; in fact, something had most definitely touched it. Something had taken a chunk out of the end of the oar, as well as leaving half-a-dozen teeth marks.
“Meredith, Meredith!” shrieked Katrin, pulling herself further away from the edge of the raft. “There’s something down there!”
“What do you mean, ‘something’?” Meredith’s panic was evident in the tone of her voice.
“Something’s bitten the oar, look!” She extended the oar for Meredith to see and quickly drew it back in again, afraid that she might lose balance.
“Then hurry, please!” cried Meredith, as the danger of their situation became more evident. “And whatever you do, be careful.”
“I will,” promised Katrin. She felt sick to the pit of her stomach.
Chapter Six
Crossing the next seven metres was Katrin’s idea of her worst nightmare. She seemed to be moving painfully slowly, her eyes kept darting from the slightly-fraying rope which tied the planks of wood together to make the raft, to a substantial-sized gap between two of the planks which surely hadn’t been there before? But at last she reached the opposite embankment and wasted no time in springing up onto it, clutching the rope tightly in her hands. Once she had it safely secured around a tree trunk, she proceeded to unload the raft’s contents onto a spot of ground at a safe distance from the edge of the river. She worked quickly and tried to keep her mind focused; she wouldn’t let herself think about the return journey, just yet. But in no time at all, the raft was unloaded. It was time to face the inevitable journey back to the other side.
Meanwhile, Meredith waited with baited breath. There was something in Katrin’s expression she had never seen before, and it was disconcerting to see her look so... so... But fear was never a word one associated with Katrin.
The second journey went without any major, or minor for that matter, catastrophes. As Meredith carefully took her seat and was endowed, once again, with baby, of whom Katrin had been given charge whilst Meredith clambered on board, she studied the fraying rope and the widening gap between two of the planks rather dubiously. Most likely just her imagination. Or was it...?
Katrin found this journey the most difficult. Perhaps it was because she was so determined that nothing would go wrong. The oar felt like lead; the raft seemed barely to be moving at all; the baby began to whimper. Katrin felt her forehead growing moist and her grip on the oar tightening. She kept her gaze fixed straight ahead, her lips pursed. The silence was deafening. Even the birds had ceased their chorus as they regarded the raft and its passengers with much interest. Did they have some kind of sixth sense which warned them that disaster was about to strike? The air was growing thick with tension. It grew so thick that Katrin could hardly breathe.
And then, at last, they reached the embankment. Katrin used the oar to carefully draw them in along beside it. Meredith wasted no time in giving Katrin charge of the baby and springing up onto the safety of the bank. Her heart was still beating wildly. She had never really felt as terrified as she had done on the raft. Stepping onto the grass was like waking up from a nightmare. But little did she know that the nightmare was only just about to begin.
She leaned over to take the baby from Katrin. It was then that she noticed it, or rather, noticed the lack of it: a piece of rope was floating on the surface of the water, and it was only too apparent where it had come from. Several of the planks which had made up the raft were beginning to float away also, one after the other, like a procession of soldiers, with no intent in returning from whence they had come. Her heart sunk to her boots and she let out an ear-piercing scream.
Katrin whirled around but it was too late; the planks beneath her gave way, and with a desperate cry she plummeted into the murky water.
Meanwhile, Meredith waited with baited breath. There was something in Katrin’s expression she had never seen before, and it was disconcerting to see her look so... so... But fear was never a word one associated with Katrin.
The second journey went without any major, or minor for that matter, catastrophes. As Meredith carefully took her seat and was endowed, once again, with baby, of whom Katrin had been given charge whilst Meredith clambered on board, she studied the fraying rope and the widening gap between two of the planks rather dubiously. Most likely just her imagination. Or was it...?
Katrin found this journey the most difficult. Perhaps it was because she was so determined that nothing would go wrong. The oar felt like lead; the raft seemed barely to be moving at all; the baby began to whimper. Katrin felt her forehead growing moist and her grip on the oar tightening. She kept her gaze fixed straight ahead, her lips pursed. The silence was deafening. Even the birds had ceased their chorus as they regarded the raft and its passengers with much interest. Did they have some kind of sixth sense which warned them that disaster was about to strike? The air was growing thick with tension. It grew so thick that Katrin could hardly breathe.
And then, at last, they reached the embankment. Katrin used the oar to carefully draw them in along beside it. Meredith wasted no time in giving Katrin charge of the baby and springing up onto the safety of the bank. Her heart was still beating wildly. She had never really felt as terrified as she had done on the raft. Stepping onto the grass was like waking up from a nightmare. But little did she know that the nightmare was only just about to begin.
She leaned over to take the baby from Katrin. It was then that she noticed it, or rather, noticed the lack of it: a piece of rope was floating on the surface of the water, and it was only too apparent where it had come from. Several of the planks which had made up the raft were beginning to float away also, one after the other, like a procession of soldiers, with no intent in returning from whence they had come. Her heart sunk to her boots and she let out an ear-piercing scream.
Katrin whirled around but it was too late; the planks beneath her gave way, and with a desperate cry she plummeted into the murky water.
Chapter Seven
Katrin felt the water closing over her head. She tried desperately to grab hold of something, anything. Blackness enveloped her. She sank lower and lower and was utterly powerless against the swirling force of the river’s current. Then she remembered the teeth-marks on the oar...
All of a sudden, she felt a hand seize her by the arm and pull her up, up, with incredible strength and speed, so that in seconds she burst through the water’s surface with such velocity that she felt her lungs might explode. Paralysed by shock, she was helplessly at the mercy of this hand that gripped her arm so tightly, but not so tightly as to hurt her. She barely noticed as the hand became an arm around her shoulders, which half dragged, half carried her to the edge of the embankment and finally set her down on it, dripping wet and shivering, but not with the cold. And she barely noticed that her rescuer hadn’t been Meredith, that in fact it had been a peculiarly-clad boy, who now slipped away through the trees as quickly as he had come, without so much as a word.
“Oh Katrin, Katrin!” Meredith came rushing over and dropped down on her kness beside her. With tears rolling down her cheeks, she wrapped Katrin’s shivering body in her own jersey. Katrin pulled it closely around herself and buried her face in her sister’s sleeve. She couldn’t speak. She felt sick, relieved and very shaken, all at the same time. The familiar smell of her sister’s jumper was comforting to her; she breathed it in deeply and felt like a child again.
“Katrin,” said Meredith, after some time. “Don’t you ever do that again.”
Katrin lifted her head and looked into her sister’s tear-filled eyes. She managed a weak smile.
“You frightened me,” said Meredith, also managing a smile.
“You were frightened?” Katrin sat up and arched an eyebrow. “If you were frightened, how d’you think I was feeling?”
“I can’t begin to imagine,” laughed Meredith.
Katrin smiled again. She felt as though she was experiencing a new and fresh sense of her sister’s care for her, and that somehow their relationship had been strengthened. They had always been considerably close, but they had had their differences and difficulties. Maybe it was due to the almost four-year age-gap between them. But today, and even since last night, it seemed like some kind of barrier had been broken down between them. They were on level ground now. They both needed each other.
It was only once they were ready to set off again that the subject of their mysterius visitor was brought up. While Meredith helped Katrin on with her rucksack, about half-an-hour after the incident, Katrin gazed up at the cloudless sky with eyes that told she was far away and lost in her own thoughts.
“Meredith,” she said, softly. “Who was that person? Where did he come from?”
“You mean the boy who rescued you?”
Katrin nodded.
“I don’t know,” said Meredith, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Perhaps we’ll never know. But I’ll tell you one thing- this whole incident has made a believer out of me.”
“A believer?” asked Katrin, curiously. “A believer in what?”
“A believer in... miracles.”
All of a sudden, she felt a hand seize her by the arm and pull her up, up, with incredible strength and speed, so that in seconds she burst through the water’s surface with such velocity that she felt her lungs might explode. Paralysed by shock, she was helplessly at the mercy of this hand that gripped her arm so tightly, but not so tightly as to hurt her. She barely noticed as the hand became an arm around her shoulders, which half dragged, half carried her to the edge of the embankment and finally set her down on it, dripping wet and shivering, but not with the cold. And she barely noticed that her rescuer hadn’t been Meredith, that in fact it had been a peculiarly-clad boy, who now slipped away through the trees as quickly as he had come, without so much as a word.
“Oh Katrin, Katrin!” Meredith came rushing over and dropped down on her kness beside her. With tears rolling down her cheeks, she wrapped Katrin’s shivering body in her own jersey. Katrin pulled it closely around herself and buried her face in her sister’s sleeve. She couldn’t speak. She felt sick, relieved and very shaken, all at the same time. The familiar smell of her sister’s jumper was comforting to her; she breathed it in deeply and felt like a child again.
“Katrin,” said Meredith, after some time. “Don’t you ever do that again.”
Katrin lifted her head and looked into her sister’s tear-filled eyes. She managed a weak smile.
“You frightened me,” said Meredith, also managing a smile.
“You were frightened?” Katrin sat up and arched an eyebrow. “If you were frightened, how d’you think I was feeling?”
“I can’t begin to imagine,” laughed Meredith.
Katrin smiled again. She felt as though she was experiencing a new and fresh sense of her sister’s care for her, and that somehow their relationship had been strengthened. They had always been considerably close, but they had had their differences and difficulties. Maybe it was due to the almost four-year age-gap between them. But today, and even since last night, it seemed like some kind of barrier had been broken down between them. They were on level ground now. They both needed each other.
It was only once they were ready to set off again that the subject of their mysterius visitor was brought up. While Meredith helped Katrin on with her rucksack, about half-an-hour after the incident, Katrin gazed up at the cloudless sky with eyes that told she was far away and lost in her own thoughts.
“Meredith,” she said, softly. “Who was that person? Where did he come from?”
“You mean the boy who rescued you?”
Katrin nodded.
“I don’t know,” said Meredith, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Perhaps we’ll never know. But I’ll tell you one thing- this whole incident has made a believer out of me.”
“A believer?” asked Katrin, curiously. “A believer in what?”
“A believer in... miracles.”
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