Читать книгу The Horse of the River - Sari Cooper - Страница 9

The counsellors had all the girls line up in their cabin groups at the door to the dining hall. Carmen went down the line, tapping each girl on the head and assigning her a colour as she went inside. This mixed the cabin groups among the brightly painted tables. Gillian found the orange table. Jordan sat across from her, but everyone else was from a different cabin. Table assignments would change weekly, allowing all the campers to get to know each other.

After a wonderful dinner of roasted chicken, potatoes and candied carrots, the girls went out to the end of the Range by the riverbank. They sat on logs arranged in a three-quarter circle around the fire pit. The fire was crackling and warm as the evening sky cooled to a burnt orange. The drop in temperature was remarkable when the sun dipped behind the tops of the hills. Gillian was grateful for her fuzzy sweatpants and fleece-lined windbreaker. But she kept the jacket open as the warmth of the fire went deeper than the chill in the air. She sat again between Jordan and Emiko as they chatted about the horses. A few other girls joined the discussion, and everyone seemed to want to be paired with a horse named Beauty. One girl said she was silver and her coat sparkled in the sunlight. Another said her mane and tail were long and flowing and she looked like a princess. The campers who’d been to Canyon Falls before all adored her. But she was best friends in the paddock with a high-strung and difficult paint horse named the General who had a long jagged scar down the side of his nose. Because of his personality and his looks, and because he hung out with Beauty, he was nicknamed the Beast.

“Oh man, I hope I don’t wind up riding the Beast,” groaned Mira.

“You mean ‘General Ugly Face?’ I heard he ate a kid one year,” said a girl from cabin one.

“Shut up! He did not,” laughed Emiko. “Horses are vegetarians.”

The conversation among the girls faded to whispers and eventually stopped as Carmen walked to the fire and pulled out a long, thick branch that was flaming at the end. She turned around, torch in hand, to face the campers. “It’s tradition on the first night of camp to tell the story of the Horse of the River. Canyon Falls is an old camp with a strong history. There have been horses stabled here for seventy-two years.” Gillian already knew this. Her gaze drifted over to the camp’s owner. Libby had purchased the property seventeen years ago and had been running the camp ever since. Carmen kept speaking and Gillian’s attention was drawn back to the story. The firelight from the torch threw flickering shadows across the head counsellor’s face.

“There used to be a boys’ camp a few kilometres up the river. They spent their time on different parts of the river canoeing and rafting rather than on horseback. On a warm moonlit night in 1973, a fifteen-year-old boy named Ben snuck out of his cabin. He slipped into a canoe, planning to paddle to Canyon Falls to meet his girlfriend.”

A suggestive “Woooooo!” came up from the girls.

“Yes,” agreed Carmen. “Very romantic. But dangerous. The rocks hidden under the water were difficult to spot during the day. At night, they couldn’t be seen at all. Ben’s canoe tipped as he approached the girls’ camp. He’d put his life jacket on the bottom of the canoe to use as a cushion instead of wearing it, which we all know is a no-no!”

An older girl yelled out, “Yeah, but stealing a canoe and sneaking out to see your girlfriend, that’s fine!” Gillian joined in the laughter that rippled through the group.

Carmen continued, unfazed. “As he fell into the water, his head struck a rock and he was dazed. He couldn’t get himself to the shore. He had no life jacket and all he could do was struggle to stay afloat. The current pushed him farther and farther downstream. He was able to call out once for help. Then he was sucked under the water.”

Emiko squeaked and grabbed Gillian’s arm tightly.

Robin spun around. “Emiko, you’ve heard this story before.”

Emiko put a hand on her chest. “I know. It’s just so intense!”

Again, giggles rippled through the group as Emiko squished herself closer to Gillian. Gillian, also feeling tense, welcomed the squish.

Carmen waited until it was quiet and then she said, “Ben woke up a little while later on the riverbank and somehow managed to hike his way back to Canyon Falls by morning. He said he had been fighting to get back to the surface, almost completely out of breath, when a sudden thrashing next to him made him go still. There were legs and a long dark face and a mane black as the water in the night. Through his panic Ben recognized Hunter, a stallion from Canyon Falls. Hunter had been his girlfriend’s horse that summer. Ben grabbed on to the mane and pulled himself up, gasping for air. The two of them were dragged helplessly farther down the river. Finally, the big horse dragged Ben to a rock near the bank. Ben was able to pull himself up onto the rock but Hunter was swept away, unable to free himself from the rushing water. The horse was fighting and shrieking as he disappeared downstream toward the waterfall. He was never seen again. Hunter had saved Ben’s life and given his own.”

Gillian let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding.

“Poor Hunter!” said Emiko. Jaida had her face hidden in Naomi’s shoulder. Katrina rolled her eyes and looked bored. The rest of the girls were huddling closer together as the breeze picked up.

“Some days when the river is high,” said Carmen, “unpredictable currents develop. Small eddies and whirlpools appear and disappear with no rhyme or reason. A little wave will appear at the shore when there is no wind or boat to create it. Some people believe that Hunter’s spirit haunts this river and is trying to warn people of the dangers within it.”

A ghost horse? Nope, nope, nope. Stella was not impressed.

Carmen went on. “The river needs to be treated with caution and respect. Remember you can’t see below the surface.” She turned away from the girls and tossed her torch back onto the waning campfire. “All right,” she said. “Tomorrow’s a big day. Now back to your bunks and get a good night’s sleep.”

Ha! Stella’s voice startled Gillian, causing her to jump slightly, jostling Emiko, who was still squished in tight. If she wanted us to get a good night’s sleep, maybe she shouldn’t have told us a terrifying ghost story! I hate ghosts!

Gillian shivered. Emiko stood and stared at her. “You okay? You’re kind of vibrating.”

Gillian looked up at her new friend, embarrassed. “Yeah, I’m not the biggest fan of ghosts.”

Emiko turned her palms up and said, “What? Hunter? He’s amazing! He totally saved Ben, and he lives in the river and he’s a horse and he warns us about currents and rocks...”

Gillian tried to be comforted by Emiko, who happily waved a dismissive hand and said, “Every camp needs a ghost. Hunter’s the best.”

Hunter died. He can’t have been happy about that. Maybe he’s not as friendly as she thinks, said Stella. This camp is off to a great start. Bears, a horse named Beast and a haunted river of death!

Gillian tried to brush off Stella’s worries. But she trembled with more than the cold on the walk back to cabin three, homesickness no longer her greatest fear.