Читать книгу The Magic Aquifer: Treating the Political Stress Syndrome A Novel - John R. Krismer - Страница 9

Chapter 1

The north shore of Lake Superior, from Duluth to Thunder Bay forms the beginning of a very large wilderness area that’s commonly referred to as the Boundary Waters, from which hundreds of tributaries empty into Lake Superior, some from as far away as James Bay in Ontario to Lake Winnipeg in Manitoba. One of the larger tributaries is the Rainy River, which flows from the southeastern tip of Lake of the Woods, which is located in north-central Minnesota, and Canada. This Rainy River also serves as a natural border between Canada and the United States, cutting its way southeast for more than two hundred miles before it finally reaches Lake Superior, some fifty miles southwest of Thunder Bay. From the southeastern tip of the Lake of the Woods this intercontinental border cuts across this lake to its mid-western shoreline, splitting the lake between these two countries. Between the Rainy River and Lake Superior’s northern shoreline is a beautiful wilderness area that is shaped like the head of an arrow called the Arrowhead Country.

Although several mining companies had previously found vast deposits of high grade iron ore throughout much of northern Minnesota, this large Minnesota Iron Range soon became seriously depleted and depressed because of the world’s huge demand for high quality iron ore. And although vast reserves of taconite, a flint-like rock containing thirty to fifty percent low-grade iron ore had been discovered in the Arrowhead Country back in 1870, it was initially considered worthless because extracting pure iron from the granite was found to be far too difficult and costly. Then in the 1940s, the process of extracting and upgrading taconite by “pelletizing” the iron into briquette-like pellets was discovered, causing the Reserve Mining Company to build a taconite processing plant at Silver Bay, on Lake Superior. As a result, by the late 1950s, they were producing and shipping up to 10 million tons of pellets a year, while irresponsibly disposing of the remaining powdered rock called tailings into Lake Superior.

The Ojibwe Annishinaabe or the Chippewa Indians, which is a white man’s term, own reservations in both the United State’s Arrowhead Country and the Canadian Boundary waters. Ojibwe means to heat or to pucker-up, which was derived from a description of the puckered seams on the Ojibwe moccasins. In the United States, the Ojibwe Indians call these boundary waters the Noopiming Boundary Waters while Canadians refer to this lake filled area as the Quetico Boundary Waters. For many years the Indian tribes had previously mined and processed this low grade iron ore to make their knives and hatchets, but with this new processing plant they soon found employment processing taconite at Silver Bay. They’d also made hatchets from copper, which was very plentiful in this area. Copper was obtained from a mineral called Malaxite, which the Indian’s heated to 1,100 degrees Fahrenheit by forcing air into the flame and then pouring the melted copper into hatchet or knife molds. In doing this, they were totally unaware of the inevitable arsenic poisoning that occurred, and in doing this, many tribe members became ill from this arsenic poison. In processing iron ore, they also became ill from the dangerous taconite dust like particles that inevitably found their way into their lungs, often causing cancer.

Although the Indians in this area were mostly Ojibwe, there were several other tribes such as the Algonquin, the Ottawa, and the Cree Indians who were all friendly and spoke the same Alogonquian language. The Blackfeet Indians of Montana and Manitoba also spoke Alogonquian, but they were located farther to the west. The Dakota Tribes, commonly referred to as the nomadic Sioux, were scattered throughout this entire general area as well as the Upper Mississippi Valley, North and South Dakota and Ontario. They only spoke the Siouan language, and to make things worse, these Sioux were fierce warriors and a constant threat to the Ojibwe Annishinaabe. Sometimes these nomadic Sioux war parties could be found as far north as the Sioux Narrows on Lake of the Woods and they always presented a problem to the other tribes. Historically, there had been many skirmishes between the Sioux and these many other tribes that were often lumped together as the Ojibwe Annishinaabe. And although iron and copper were important natural resources to all these tribes, gold was seldom if ever found in this area, and therefore had never become an issue to fight over; however, this novel does focus on an unusual source of gold and how its location was secretly protected by three young men, one of which had accidentally claimed the first shiny gold nugget near the eastern shore of The Lake of the Woods.

* * * * *

This is a big mistake, Bill Warner thought as he motored out from Nestor Falls into the open water of Lake of the Woods. At this speed, It will take us all day to get to Split Rock, he was thinking to himself as he repeatedly tried to get the boat to rise above the water line, and move at a normal speed. Finally he shouted over the straining motor, “This isn’t going to work!” With the water pushing against the bow of his seventeen foot tri hull it looked more like a barge than a sleek inboard, and after several more fruitless attempts, Bill cursed in frustration. “We’re way too heavy!”

Although the hull of his boat was some thirty inches deep, the heavier waves were hitting within only a few inches of the top edge of the boat, and as he glared back at the large rolled up tent, several boxes of food, three or four tanks of water and gas, a metal cook stove, and a variety of gold mining equipment he whispered so the others could hear. If we get into some rough water, we’ll really have our hands full with all this gear weighing us down. And three two hundred pound passengers aren’t exactly helping us any.

Finally he just sat back letting the motor idle, while trying to figure out what to do next. Biting at the corner of his mouth he scowled at Dave and Ed before taking off his hat and scratching his head. “I should have known better,” he snarled just as the wind valiantly slapped a huge wave over the side of the boat, forcing him to drop his hat on the floor and grab hold of the windshield with both hands.

Yes, Bill Warner had agreed with his two close friends to take the summer off from college so they could hunt gold, and his jaw tightened and his blue eyes became even more intense as another gust of wind swirled his blond sun-bleached hair in every direction. Turning to face both Dave and Ed, his right hand automatically grabbed for the back of his chair for support while the other rubbed the short stubble of a beard on his tan face. Still kind of biting on the inside of his cheek he stood silent, trying to decide if they should turn back or not.

Dave Olson’s round face seemed frozen in a grin as he chuckled out loud. “What the hell - maybe we ought to pull Nelson behind the boat,” he laughed, trying to ease the tension.

With that, Ed Nelson shook his head. “Oh sure - you’re twice as big as I am, and you’d float a hell of a lot better, you smart ass.”

Dave was as wide as he was tall, but all muscle, and he responded with a huge laugh. “All right, let’s not get into a fight before we even get started.

During the last few summers Dave had worked for a U.S. Canadian mining firm that required he survive alone in the north woods in search of copper. His face was usually very tan but permanently scared from his childhood pox marks, and with his crew cut it gave him the undeserved appearance of a Chicago bouncer in an all night bar on Clark Street.

Ed Nelson was taller than Dave and almost frail by comparison, and to make things worse he wore heavy horned rimmed glasses and his long straight brown hair was swirling in every direction, making him look like a wimp while he struggled to put his baseball hat on backwards so the next gust of wind wouldn’t whisk it into the lake again.

“Look, we’ve only got a couple of options.” Bill growled. “We can go back and unload half of this stuff, and make two trips, or we can rent a second boat to help us get there in a reasonable length of time. And since we can’t afford to rent a second boat for the entire summer, we should probably make a couple of trips, don’t you think?”

“Wait a minute,” Dave shouted over the wind, raising one arm high in the air to get their attention.

Dave was always quick with a solution to almost any dilemma, because of his north woods experience, where he’d often made quick decisions without any warning.

“Aren’t we trying to sneak out there without being noticed, so we won’t have any trouble with the Indians?”

“Alright,” Bill agreed. “So what do you suggest we do?”

“I suggest we get out our fishing poles and troll our way out there, just as fast as this old barge will go. Haven’t we got all the time in the world? That way we’ll look more like fisherman than prospectors, and we won’t be threatening those Indians who believe this is their sacred turf. Isn’t that why we’re sneaking out here by boat this time, so they won’t chase us off what they think is their domain? When I went in there before, I hiked in from Caliper Lake, and I made those Indians so nervous they followed me every step of the way without my ever knowing it. In fact, I thought they were going to kill me when they woke me up that morning, and I couldn’t get out of there fast enough, even with all my written authorizations they completely ignored.”

“God all Friday, it’ll take us ten hours to get out there at this speed,” Bill snarled, still trying to figure out another solution.

“So what’s wrong with that?” Dave once again chuckled. “We’re in no big hurry. Don’t you think it would be better if we quietly motor in at dusk anyway? That way we do it all in one trip, and we probably won’t even be noticed.”

“All right, if that’s what you want - we’ll do it your way,” Bill said, flopping back down in his seat, obviously disturbed as he reached out and moved the throttle to a more relaxed trolling speed.

With that Ed reached for his fishing pole, and settled back for what was now going to be a much slower trip.

“Okay, I’m going to catch us some dinner on the way, in fact I can already taste those fresh Walleye” he smiled, throwing out his line behind the boat.

With that Bill laughed, turning his attention back to the direction he’d been heading as he once again sat tall behind the wheel, finally resigning himself to a much slower trip to Split Rock near Bay Lodge. And even though he wasn’t sure this was the smartest solution, they at least were moving even though they were pushing a huge wall of water ahead of them. As they slowly moved from one island to another, Bill’s thoughts drifted back to when Dave first shared his remarkable experience with them.

Dave had spent much of his time prospecting for copper mines during his vacation from college over the last few years, and during his assignment last year, he’d been asked to search out a very remote and new area just east of Lake of the Woods. While he was collecting his usual mineral samples, he focused his search primarily on locations around Log Creek and Caliper Lake. Then towards the end of the summer, he moved further west along the Grassy River, which was next to a small Canadian Indian Reservation, eventually finding his way to what he’d identified as the Split Rock River. In that he’d initially entered the forest near Caliper Lake, he’d probably hiked some ten miles or more before reaching this remote location, which was about five to ten miles south of Lake of the Woods. Previously, Dave had always worked in the Arrowhead Boundary Waters of Minnesota, where he was familiar with the wilderness and the local Indians who all knew him very well, but for some reason he felt very uneasy in this strange new Canadian forest. He wasn’t as worried about the animals as he was about an unruly tribe of Indians he’d heard about when he stayed overnight in Nestor Falls. Then one day when he was gathering his copper samples, he was startled to find what appeared to be lava like silt along the Split Rock riverbank.

Could it be possible that there was once some kind of volcanic action here, he thought. Then later that same day, while he was bathing in this cold refreshing stream he noticed several shiny rocks reflecting the sun’s rays. After he gathered up several of them he stuck them under the canvas floor of his tent for safe keeping. And although he felt it was highly unlikely they were gold, they sure looked like gold, he’d thought. In any event, he’d decided that he’d have them checked out when he got back home, even though he’d never heard of gold ever being found in this part of the country. Then the following morning, Dave awoke to a terrible noise outside the tent and after he hurriedly crawled out of his sleeping bag, he found four defiant Indians methodically trashing his campsite. When they were finished, he was told in no uncertain terms to leave immediately, or risk not leaving at all. After he awkwardly tried to explain that he was doing government work, and showing them his papers, he realized that made no difference at all and they only became more irritated with him. Needless to say, he took their advice, but later he found out that those shiny rocks were not only gold nuggets, but the purity of the gold was extremely high. In fact, these few nuggets netted him close to one thousand dollars, which paid for his college tuition and much more that year. After telling Bill and Ed of his unusual find, they’d all agreed to take the next summer off, and go look for gold in the Split Rock River. But this time, Dave recommended they hike into the area from the mouth of that river on Lake of the Woods, acting as fishermen rather than surveying the land for copper. This way, they’d hopefully not attract all the attention he’d previously received with that unruly tribe while he was searching for copper the previous year.

Yes, it was important they sneak in quietly, Bill was thinking to himself as Ed suddenly screamed,

“Get the net! I’ve got our dinner on the end of this line.”

After Ed landed a beautiful five pound Walleye, all three laughed and once again seemed excited by what lay ahead. After Dave placed their dinner in the live tank, they all sat back to once again enjoy the tranquility of the huge pine trees and solid granite cliffs that made up the many islands in this huge lake. “This section of the lake is nothing like the open water to the west,” Bill explained. In fact this is one of the most beautiful Lakes in Canada, he thought to himself, as he turned his attention to his map to confirm their location, trying to determine how much further they had to go. Then later that afternoon, they finally reached Split Rock Bay, and it was now only a short distance before they’d reach their campsite next to the waterfall at the mouth of the river. Since Bill had previously fished the falls by the mouth of the river, he remembered there was a huge reed bed that covered the shoreline. This would provide ideal cover for them, he thought, but they’d also have to push there way through all those mosquito infested reeds to find a good spot where they could hide the boat.

“All right, you better get covered with mosquito repellent,” Bill explained, as they approached the waterfall and that dense reed bed that covered the entire backwater area.

At first Bill tried to motor through the reeds that were blocking their path, but that was impossible, so Dave and Ed both climbed up on the bow and physically pushed and pulled their way forward. After what seemed like an eternity, they eventually found a good landing spot fairly close to where they’d planned to camp near the rushing waterfall, and although the mosquitoes repellent had helped some, they all had more than enough bites from the huge swarms of mosquitoes. As they pulled the boat onto the sandy beach, they hurriedly unloaded their equipment by passing things up to the higher ground, where there were far fewer mosquitoes to fight. Then after a quick search of the area, Ed shouted, “this looks like a good campsite over here by the stream,” swinging his ax as if clearing a space for their tent. Since they’d all brought guns for their protection this time, they paused just long enough to strap them on before setting up camp. While Ed gathered firewood, Dave and Bill struggled to raise the large canvas tent, which had taken up so much room in the boat. Then after they were finished, Bill worked his way back through the swarms of mosquitoes to secure the boat by zipping on the boat’s canvas top and raising the motor just as the last splinter of sunlight faded behind the tall dense pines. Bill’s huge tent was a real luxury, some twelve by sixteen feet in size with screened openings and waterproof flooring, and the green color blended well with the trees so that it was hardly noticeable in spite of its size. But getting settled in the dark was no picnic, and by the time they set up their table, and raised their ice chests on pulleys so they wouldn’t be trashed by bear, it was pitch dark. Finally after they all settled down around a warm campfire, the steady noise of the stream quickly put them at peace with Mother Nature, and since Ed had caught the fish, Dave was unanimously elected to cook dinner. While Bill and Ed watched Dave work by the fire they all sipped on a cold beer, visiting about the days ahead.

“Boy, there’s nothing better than fresh Walleye cooked over a campfire,” Dave grinned, scrapping the last bit of food from his plate. “I’m going to sleep like a baby,” he mumbled after dowsing the flames and zipping up the tent screen, where they all collapsed on their sleeping bags.

The next morning, as Bill awoke, he looked around the tent and could see that Ed was already up, so he dressed and went out to see what their campsite looked like in the daylight. Ed had started a campfire, but he was nowhere to be found. In fact, the morning fog was so dense, Bill could barely see the stream, and since the grass was covered with due it wasn’t difficult to follow Ed’s tracks to where he found him crouching behind a tree, staring at the swirling backwater.

“Hush,” Ed whispered, raising his hand to point at the backwater area that was completely covered by this thick eerie haze of morning fog. “I’m watching some beavers,” he whispered.

Quietly Bill crouched down beside him, and it took only a moment before a beaver glided smoothly through the water, only stopping to slap its tail before diving beneath the surface. As the beaver reappeared on the shore, he quickly waddled into the woods to find a branch, which he then carefully added to their already large beaver dam. As Bill and Ed watched, fascinated by his work, the sun began to slowly eat through the heavy fog and then suddenly a large section of blue sky appeared. Ed must have been up since the crack of dawn, Bill thought, as he noticed an outdoor biffy he’d quietly built with some logs while he and Dave were sleeping.

When they finally returned to camp, they found Dave was already busy cooking breakfast. “I think we found a pretty good camp site, don’t you?” Dave garbled in a voice that was still half asleep.

“It looks great,” Bill smiled.

Dave had been boiling coffee in a coffee can, and he hurriedly grabbed it off the fire with a pot holder as the grounds boiled over and sizzled in the flames. Setting his makeshift coffee pot on a rock, he let the remaining coffee grounds settle before pouring their coffee.

“The bacon and eggs are almost done,” he yelled. “You better get a plate and eat while things are good and hot.”

After breakfast, Dave spread out his map, and pointed out the location where he’d found gold the previous summer.

“It should be right about here,” he said, authoritatively tapping his finger on the map. “Do you think you’re up to looking for some gold today?” He grinned.

As he looked for a response, they both smiled and nodded enthusiastically. “I’d guess it’s about a six mile hike from here,” Dave continued. “Why don’t we pack a lunch and some tools and head out,” he said, wiping the remaining grease from the frying pan with a paper towel, which flared up when he threw it on the hot coals.

“I’m ready,” Bill said, “but we better be sure we put out that fire before we leave.”

“My God, it’s almost nine o’clock,” Dave yelled, looking at his watch.