Chapter Nine

It soon became apparent that the track was gradually leading them uphill. Although both girls felt as though they could hardly take another step, neither wanted to admit it, even to themselves. They pressed on almost mechanically, hoping that it wouldn’t be too long before they reached the base of the mountain.

As the night began to settle around them, changing the leaves on the trees from vibrant-green to dazzling-silver, Katrin felt the weariness in her body begin to overwhelm her. She wondered how many more steps she could take before her legs gave in altogether. They must have covered well over nine miles since they had last stopped, she reckoned. Just how many more would they have to cover tonight? Could she, would she survive it?

The track took a turn and led them to the base of a steep hill. The hill was overgrown with tall grass and the soil was soft and uneven, protruding in several places as large mounds, rather like mole hills. Tall, thin trees grew at various points on the hill and their long, winding roots would serve conveniently as handles and footholds. Since Katrin was the more agile of the two, the baby was passed to her to allow Meredith the use of both her hands for this slightly awkward ascension.

Although Katrin felt that she could easily have passed out right there and then from sheer exhaustion, she felt compelled to go on for the sake of her sister, and even for the sake of this small, helpless bundle of humanity which she cradled in her arm, and which looked up at her with eyes that spoke neither of fear nor of despair, but of trust, dependence and naivety.

“You go first, Katrin,” said Meredith, the tremor in her voice portraying how weak and tired she was feeling.

Katrin nodded. It took every last ounce of strength she could muster, both physical and emotional, to take hold of the nearest root and to pull herself up, heavy rucksack, baby and all. She could only allow herself the use of one hand; with the other she carefully supported the baby. Her foot found another root to balance on. Her weak arm stretched for the next available leverage- a tree trunk, slightly peeling, a little crooked. Had she been less tired, her better judgement might have warned her to look for something stronger and more stable, but since most of her faculties were numbed by her lack of energy, she used the tree anyway. It proved to be more stable than it appeared, as it merely bent a little under the weight it was forced to bear for a second or two, until Katrin found a new foothold.

The latter was a large boulder which jutted out from the hill like a small platform. It was wide enough, Katrin reckoned, to set her rucksack down on momentarily, so that she could catch her breath. But just as she was about to do so, Meredith’s voice came ringing, loud and clear:

“Katrin Anna Spencer! Don’t you dare stop now!”

Katrin glared fiercely at her sister. “Meredith, I need a break! Can’t you see I’ve got no energy left, and you expect me to get myself, my rucksack and the baby to the top of this hill!”

“If you stop now,” said Meredith, reaching for a nearby tree trunk, “you won’t be able to go on anymore. You’ll give in; you’ll have no more strength to get yourself to the top of this hill, let alone to the caravan, before... before it’s too late. Please, Katrin. You’ve just got to keep going.”

Katrin sighed and looked doubtfully towards the top of the hill, which seemed forever away. Her sister was right. They had come too far to stop now. It seemed impossible, but if there really were such things as miracles, then she might be able to do it. She could at least try. After all, it wasn’t for herself anymore. She really was doing this for Meredith and the baby.