The Search Continues & Ends

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By the third day.  Gus, Douglas’ partially helpful seagull was getting tired of carrying his pudgy trainer and he was showing his lack of enthusiasm by diving for a kelp greenling fish a careless eagle had dropped.  Doug hung onto the harness for dear life while Gus careened down, skimmed the water and deftly picked up the stunned fish in his beak.  The eagle, not taking too kindly to having his dinner stolen cried his staccato scratchy screech and took off after Gus; which of course included Doug as well.  Now an eagle is a raptor and has claws that could quite easily enclose even the fattest of Bog Folk, so this was not good news for Douglas.  But, with quick efficiency, Gus gobbled the greenling into his mouth, cheeks and gullet as fast as Viola had ever done it, and, having made his point to a the now soaking wet Doug, took off as his master squeezed his knees together on the happy birds’ back.  The eagle, no longer seeing the fish, went back to its perch at the top of a large Cedar and began its search for another dinner.

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Gus; and Doug, of course were finishing off searching the sandbars down the top of the Skeena and so were leaving the Ocean and heading to the river, now that Gus, who had the brains of a jellyfish, had his lunch packed in his cheeks.  They had reached as far as the Skeena Village and had still not found any sign of a camp.  Just a few more sandbars to go, Doug hoped.

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Meanwhile, the ground searchers were having a tough time of it trying not to lose sight of the tidal river at high tide when they had to struggle and bash their way through the bush.  At low tide, they were slipping and sliding on algae and seaweed, or sinking into wet sand as they walked on below the river bank.  Crusta, the tracker who led was followed by a now rumpled, hurting and thoroughly pathetic Perri. He had a bandage of deerskin and sphagnum moss around his head.  His red blisters that he had contracted from the buttercup plants his wife had so kindly rubbed on him, may have been healed by now had he not been constantly scratching at them, so that most had burst.  The salve Fern had given him was concocted into an eulachon grease base, so that, not only did he stink, but he attracted flies and so was constantly batting away at the air in front of his face.  His wrapped ankle, swollen from the fall he had taken into a rocky tide pool was bothering him. Time was crawling on it’s hand and knees for Perri. To add insult to injury, Crusta was healthy, happy and singing a merry tune as he set a pace just a little too fast for Perri. Time crawled by on it’s hands and knees.  So far, they had found no sign of the traders, so on they trudged.

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Raven had left the Limpet village on Blacky’s back early as well.  His job today was to do an overall flight of the whole search area to see if, higher up, he may be able to see something the others would miss.  He let his raven coast for a while before he began his commands. Whitecaps dotted the ocean surface like a sprinkle of snowflakes. These were a series of leg and arm pressures and pats, and a body weight shift to totally change direction.  His training had been strict as discipline was the order of the day in anything Raven took on.  And so it was no surprise that Raven was making very good time.  As they flew over the mouth of the Skeena during a high flood tide, he saw what looked like floating debris.  The reason he honed on it was that this ‘debris’ was not acting like a normal log or stick would.  This debris was floating against the current.  It had to be them.  With excitement mounting, which no doubt was being subtly passed down to Blacky, Raven guided his bird to circle his discovery and as he got closer he saw that it was indeed the traders!

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  They were struggling. One of them was rowing, the other poling in an attempt to reach the northern shore.  He circled in as close as he could and tried calling to Cranberry.  The lost trader looked up and smiled a smile so big it looked like his teeth were going to fall out. Raven! They’d never been so happy to see him. Of course, Blacky could not alight on the small craft, the raven being bigger than the two skiffs which were tied together with a plank, so Raven had to rely on staying aloft and yelling.  “There’s a ground party of two following the shore.  I’ll go find them and tell them where you’re hoping to land.  Razor is out searching too.  We’ll send his boat upriver to get you on the next daylight rising tide.  So make camp ashore and a ship will come to get you tomorrow.  Keep going!  Good Luck” and with that, Raven and Blacky flew off to find Crusta and Perri.

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The aforementioned ground crew were not too hard to find due to the loud and disruptive crashing that was going on through the bush, it being high tide.  Raven swooped down to talk to them.  They, not seeing Raven, thought a raven was attacking them and they quickly huddled together like mice in a nest and covered themselves with a cedar tarp.  Raven alighted with Blacky nearby and laughed.  “Crusta, Perri, It’s me.” Then he took a deep breath. “Good Gawd, what’s that smell!”  He covered his rather large beaked nose with one hand.   “My bird could have found you by scent alone.  You smell like an otter’s latrine!”

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Perri, having uncovered himself looked up miserably to Raven and said “it’s my ointment.  I didn’t know it was made in an eulachon grease base” he cried, his tone rising as he spoke.  “I can’t even stand the smell myself but I can’t get away from myself.”  He truly did look miserable, batting away hordes of flies thought Raven.

Crusta looked up at Raven “Any news?” assuming that was why Raven was here.

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“Yes” said Raven, shifting his weight more comfortably on his birds back.  “I found them! Perri looked as happy as a basketful of clams. They spent the last two nights on a sandbar by the rivers’ mouth.  Look a little roughed up but they’re able to row and pole.  They’re riding the flood tide back up the river and trying to land just a quarter day or so ahead of you.  You should be able to meet them by the time the tides change.  Set up camp with them, and I’ll try to get Razor to bring his ship up the river to take the four of you home.   If he can’t, I will.  We can take the next daylight low tide out.   So you may have to camp out tonight, but you’ll be home tomorrow!”  Home tomorrow, thought Perri. He found that it hurt his face very badly to smile, but he smiled enough to make a rainbow blush, scabs braking and tight skin ripping.  He didn’t care.  They could stop soon and his brother was almost safe.

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Razor was circling yet another cottonwood island when Raven caught up with him.  As Raven got lower, Razor signalled to Raven that he’d beach the boat and they could talk there.  Raven landed Blacky, waited for Razor and crew and proceeded to outline the plans he had made.  “Do you think it’ll work Razor?”  He asked.

Razor, ruminating jaw in hand and eyes looking downward took a moment to think.  “Yes, I think we can do it.  We’ll go home tonight and I’ll come back with the flood tide and a few less crew.  You can guide us with your bird.  We’ll load up, tow the skiffs and load the folk.  May have to have a sailor or two in the skiffs so they follow straight behind us.”  He nodded his head more to himself than to Raven.  The crew looked happy they’d be heading home for the day and that their ordeal was almost over.  They were tired of rowing.

“Now” Raven said, pulling back on ravens reins. “Now I just have to find Doug and Gus.”

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“Good luck” said Razor sardonically. “Just look for a fat bird sitting on a log and wolfing down fish. He’ll have a round Douglas on his back, holding on for dear life. Soon they’ll both be too fat to fly.”  He laughed and looked back at his crew.  “Well boys, how about a short break, a snack, and its home in time for dinner!”  The crew cheered and Raven was off.

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Now, it was almost as if Razor had been able to see clearly far, far away, because Doug and Gus were indeed, on a floating log from which Gus refused to budge.  The tide was dropping and the seagull was feasting on a few clams he had picked up.  He had then risen quickly, Doug’s stomach rising up into his throat along with the rising altitude, dropped the clams onto the rocks, then flew down as swiftly as he had up, allowing Doug’s stomach to put itself back where it belonged.  He had then alighted on a rock and was currently gulping down the clam meat.  He didn’t offer any to Doug.  And Doug was starting to think Raven had a point about tougher discipline.  He was having a very, very bad day.  He decided that, as soon as he could get Gus back in the air; rather IF he could get Gus back in the air, they were was going home.

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Raven, meanwhile was doing a high altitude search for Gus to no avail, and after an hour decided that Razor had probably been right and headed back to the village to pass on the good news.