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.