Читать книгу Dutch Clarke - The Early Years - Brian Ratty - Страница 6

By mid-morning, I reached the forest line, where the logged landscape gave way to a rich and dense rain forest. The narrow game trail we’d ridden down eventually disappeared. From time to time, I’d find small creek beds that would lead my little party in the general direction I wanted to go. Other times, I’d dismount and use my hatchet and hunting knife to forge a trail. The forest was thick, and it made my work difficult and slow-going. The canopy of trees was so dense that at times I lost sight of the sun and seemed to be moving in a shroud of emerald-green twilight.

Most of the forest floor was littered with old trees and toppled snags, downed in many storms over the centuries. All trees—dead or growing—were covered with thick layers of green moss. The smell of damp and rotting vegetation permeated the forest floor. Growing through and around the downed trees was a crowd of green underbrush, and moving my horse and pack mules through these obstacles was taking much more time than I’d expected.

Every now and then, we’d come upon a small clearing where I could stop and fix my general position with compass and map. But these opportunities were few, as thick vegetation pushed through every nook and cranny in an attempt to reach an occasional ray of sun.

The animals and I strained through a patch of underbrush but soon broke through to a dry, rocky creek bed. The warm sun splashed my face. I looked up and over the large green sentinels and saw some patches of brilliant blue sky shining through. Many of these towering trees were hundreds, if not thousands, of years old, and at times made me feel like I was riding through a large cathedral, with the only light filtered by an immense green window from above.

Stopping every few hours, I’d give the mules and Blaze a rest and water. The mules each carried a heavy load of supplies. Blaze carried my 175-pound body, with an additional 100 pounds in my saddlebags, bedroll and backpack. Each time we stopped, I could see signs of the wildlife that inhabited the forest. There were tracks of deer, elk, raccoons, and cougar, but most of the tracks were from timber wolves, the most vocal citizens of this forest. Gus was having the time of his life, following all those smells.

At noon, I let my animals rest and drink while I ate a sandwich and an apple from my saddlebag. Having been in the saddle for almost six hours, I could tell by the feeling in my backside that it would be a long journey.

The weather had steadily improved throughout the day. Gus, who had been leading and exploring some few hundred yards ahead, now rejoined my little party and was soon asleep on some ferns in a sunlit area. He had been running, up and down, left and right, for almost six straight hours, and was exhausted. After eating, I stretched out under a large fir tree and dozed off.

Not long into my snooze, I was jolted awake by Gus’s menacing bark and snarl. As I leapt to my feet, I saw the backside of a large mountain lion some fifty yards away, running fast through the forest with Gus in hot pursuit. Fumbling for my pistol, I called out for Gus to return, fearing that he would be no match for such a creature. I wanted to run after him, but I knew I couldn’t leave Blaze and the mules unguarded in this environment.

For the next few minutes, I strained to hear the distant sound of a fight or a yelp, but my heart pounded in my ears so loudly that I heard nothing but that. Moments later, I saw the nearby brush quiver and then part. The hair was up on the back of my neck, and my pistol was cocked and ready. As I tightened my grip and dug my feet into the moss, Gus crashed through the underbrush and into our little clearing. His ears were up and he had what I swear was a broad grin on his face. I knew the lion had outdistanced him, but he was still very proud of his attempt. This was my first face-to-face contact with a wild animal, and thanks to Gus there had been no deadly confrontation. The encounter reminded me, however, that my animals were the keys to my survival. I would always have to be alert to protect them from the many wild predators of the forest.

Sobered, I packed up and we started our ascent of the trail again, with Gus at the point as always.