Dinosaur Hideout (14 page)

Crawling back onto his chair-bed, Daniel lay looking at the wavering patterns of light on the ceiling. Suddenly, he bounded back up again. He’d forgotten to turn down the stove vent and blow out the candles. Back in his sleeping bag, he listened to Pederson’s feverish mumbling and worried about his parents. He’d been pretty hard on Dad in the barn just before he took off. He should have gone in for supper. If only he could let them know he was all right. He reached down and patted Dactyl’s head. His dog gave an answering whimper.

The flickerings on the ceiling made him think of blinking lights on Christmas trees. Christmas was only a month away. He didn’t want it to be the last one they ever spent on the farm. He’d have to come up with a plan. Something definite. As he drifted off into a fitful sleep, he hoped his parents were home safe with Cheryl, not out looking for him.

~

H
e awoke stiff and sore in the morning.
At least he thought it was morning. It was hard to tell what time it was in the shadowy gloom of the shack, and he’d been up and down all night. He peeked over at Pederson. His breathing was laboured and raspy, but he lay still. Good, he was sleeping. Daniel felt a flush of satisfaction over his successful doctoring. He’d been up several times giving the old guy tea.

Suddenly, his grin disappeared. Oh no, what if Pederson were unconscious instead? He sprang up and raced over to check. The old man’s face was almost as white as the enamel dipper hanging on the wall. His fever was gone. In fact, he felt almost cool to the touch. And his gurgling breaths scared Daniel. He had to do something. He could still hear the wind howling outside, so going anywhere was out of the question. If only he could remember what his grandmother did when his grandfather had bad chest colds. Of course, a mustard plaster.

He searched the shelves, then rummaged through the cupboard until he found dry mustard and a small bag of flour. He had no idea what proportions to use, but he mixed the dry ingredients with water until they felt pasty, like papier mâché, and spread it over a handkerchief that he found in a drawer. Then he set it on Pederson’s bare chest and kept checking to make sure the skin wasn’t getting too red, just like he remembered his grandmother doing. Once he removed the hankie a few minutes later, he found another quilt in the cupboard and tucked it tight up around Pederson’s neck.

Both dogs were whining at the door by then, so he pried it open to let them out. As he did, a huge mound of snow that had been packed against the door fell into the room. The blizzard was still gusting, throwing ice crystals into his face. There was no way in the world he could go home in that. Even the dogs hesitated before creeping out. He swept out the snow and slammed the door shut after them, before going to look for some breakfast for himself.

He was just spreading some Saskatoon berry jam that he’d found onto a thick slice of bread, when the whining and scratchings of the dogs drew him back to the door. They were covered in snow, their coats matted with ice. Both settled down beside the stove to dry off. Pederson continued to sleep.

Once Daniel finished eating he began to inspect the contents of the cabin a little more closely. His attention was caught by the set of texts on the top of the bookshelf. They were scientific books on geology, paleontology, and archaeology. He drew one down. It was more technical and harder to read than his own books. He pulled a few more down, and then he noticed a stack of magazines. He grabbed several and sat down at the table to look through them. Most had no pictures, just articles. As hard to read as the text books. On one back cover, he noticed the address label: Dr. O. I. B. Pederson.

The old man was a doctor of some kind – probably paleontology. That’s what Daniel wanted to be – an expert! But why would a little disagreement at one museum make him want to live here like a hermit? Weren’t there other museums? Or was he really just retired? The thought puzzled him as he flipped through more of the magazines, but he found no answers. While searching the shelves, he did find a dog-eared herbal remedy book that Mr. Pederson obviously used in conjunction with his collection of dried flowers and plants.

Throughout the morning, the blizzard still raged outside. Whenever Daniel opened the door to peer into the hazy bleakness he was met with buffeting winds and blowing snow. The windows had long since been covered in hoarfrost and the drifts reached more than halfway up the side of the cabin walls. Daniel, Pederson, and the dogs were snug enough inside. The wood box was full, and although the power was still out there were plenty of candles, a couple of flashlights, and a kerosene lamp.

What concerned Daniel most was the thought of his parents worrying about him, but there was nothing he could do to let them know he was safe. It would be foolish to venture out. He sure didn’t want to be lost in the storm again. He’d just have to wait it out!

Every once in a while, he wondered what Jed was doing. Had Daniel’s parents called Jed’s family to join in the search? Jed would sure think he was dumb to get caught in a blizzard.

Later, he wrestled with Dactyl and Bear. The two dogs play-growled at one another from time to time, but otherwise seemed to be getting along fine.

When he got tired of looking through the books and magazines, Daniel ventured over to the table full of bones. Some of them were labelled. Taking a peek to see that Pederson’s eyes were closed, he gently picked a relic up and examined it. As he set it down carefully again, he noticed a large fragment of rock with the rippled fossilized remains of an eggshell. He quivered with excitement at what he held in his hand, and at what lay in the ground only a few yards away. Now all he had to do was make sure Pederson got better, then convince him to speak up. He didn’t know which was the bigger challenge.

He tended Pederson throughout the day, laying damp cloths on his brow, brewing various teas and helping him to the jerry can whenever necessary. As time progressed, his colour looked more normal and he seemed to rest easier, although he still had the hacking cough. By mid-afternoon he felt well enough to sit up when Daniel brought him some scrambled eggs and bread to eat.

“Where did you learn to cook?”

“I’ve known how to cook for ages – ever since I was young. My mom believes it’s important for a guy to learn, too. It’s not just up to the women these days you know.”

“That’s good advice, young fella, and these are mighty good eggs,” said Pederson in a hoarse whisper. Once he had finished eating, he handed Daniel the almost empty plate. “That’s all I can manage.”

Daniel fed the leftovers to the dogs, and returned the plate to the table. Pederson settled back onto his pillow and drew the blankets up around his chin. “Tell me again about your problem with your farm. And don’t leave anything out.”

So Daniel explained the circumstances as best as he could, including his dad’s meetings with the bank, and Pederson listened with closed eyes, nodding once in awhile.

“I really want to stay here,” Daniel concluded. “And that’s why I came over the other day. I really need to be able to prove that there are dinosaurs here to convince my dad that he has to keep this land.”

“Ah, I understand, lad. And I’m sorry, I can’t help you. Now is just not the right time to announce the discovery.”

“I see.” Daniel sat with his head hung for a few moments, disappointed with Pederson’s response, trying to respect his need for privacy. But it didn’t seem fair. He got up and walked over to the stove, where he stoked the fire and threw in another log.

A few moments elapsed. “Ah, sir?” he asked hesitantly.

“Yes.”

“I know you want to keep your discovery quiet for awhile, but I just don’t understand exactly why.”

“Well for starters, I’d like to finish the dig myself. I
don’t want any outside interference,” said Pederson,
coughing into his handkerchief. “There’d be swarms of people hovering around.”

“Maybe we could stop that happening by just not letting anyone on your land,” Daniel suggested.

“No, there’s always somebody who wants special access or sneaks in,” Pederson rasped.

Daniel nodded in defeat. Suddenly he noticed the stack of magazines on the table. “Sir,” he asked, feeling a little guilty that he hadn’t put them away. “I, ah, was looking in those magazines, and I saw your name on the label. What does O. I. B. stand for?”

“My parents named me Olaf Ingmar Borje Pederson,” he answered with a grimace, “After both
my
grandfathers.”

“That’s quite a mouthful,” said Daniel, and they both laughed.

“So, you’re a doctor?”

“Yes, of paleontology,” Pederson admitted. He blew his nose before continuing. “I’ve worked for various museums, but I was fed up with all the red tape and the runaround. I wanted to spend time on this area of research and the directors wanted to spend the museum’s money on other things. We just didn’t see eye to eye,” he explained. Then he went into a coughing fit, and Daniel rushed to get him some water.

After he’d had a drink, Daniel helped him back to his bed, where he dozed off again with a disturbing rattle in his chest with each breath he took. Daniel hovered over him anxiously for a while, and then resumed his study of the bones and fossils.

By late afternoon the ferocity of the storm seemed to have let up and Daniel peered out. There was still light snow eddying around, but he decided it should be safe for him to go home. The only thing was, he couldn’t leave Pederson behind. He was still too sick. He went to wake him.

“You have to come with me,” Daniel insisted. “I can’t leave you here.”

But looking the frail man over, Daniel wondered how they could make it.

“I can’t walk that far, lad,” Pederson said weakly from the bed. “I’d just be a burden to you.”

“We’ll figure out something. Let me look around.” Daniel debated about the best way as he donned his outside gear. If only he had Gypsy. Or the snowmobile.

The dogs got excited and started barking and bouncing around when they realized Daniel was heading out. They almost knocked him over in the commotion. Trying to restrain them, the answer struck him.

“Do you have a toboggan of some sort?” he quizzed Pederson.

The old man thought for a moment. “Yes, I do,” he replied. “An old one. It should be leaning against the side of the cabin.” He gasped for breath. “But you’ll have to dig for it.”

“Not a problem,” said Daniel, going to the door.

“Wait, young man. You can’t possibly pull me that whole distance,” Pederson croaked out.

Daniel grinned. “I don’t have to.” He pointed to the dogs.

Pederson smiled back, as he tried to catch his breath. “I’ve used Bear for that kind of thing in the past, but I don’t know how the two of them will be together.”

“We’ll find out!”

Daniel stepped outside and staggered through the deep bank to the side of the cabin. He found a stick and began knocking the snow away from a pile of old boards. With a little effort and a few hard tugs, he managed to drag the toboggan from the bottom of the pile and over to the door. Then he searched for ropes or anything else he figured would work as a harness for the dogs.

When he went back inside, Pederson was sitting up pulling on a second pair of socks. The effort made him breathe heavily. Daniel grabbed the blankets, the sleeping bag, and a pillow. Then taking an old cloth off the fossil table, he wrapped a flashlight, a candle, and some matches, and hauled everything outside. He spread one blanket out on the toboggan, then the sleeping bag and the pillow. He placed the other wrapped package at the bottom of the sleeping bag.

Then he went back for Pederson, pulling him up gently from the bed and helping him bundle into his parka and mitts. He made sure he had his heart pills. Then together they staggered outside, but the exertion caused Pederson to go into a bout of coughing.

Daniel helped him onto the toboggan, then zipped him into the sleeping bag. He realized he also needed to secure him, because he was seriously weakened and not able to hold on. He ran back into the cabin and found another rope. He tied it around the old man’s middle to hold him in place, then laid the second blanket over him.

“Wait, just a minute,” Pederson sputtered. “A compass. We’ll need that. There’s one on the corner of the table with the fossils.”

Daniel nodded and ran back into the shack to get it. He stuffed it into his jacket pocket, turned down the stove, and closed the door securely behind him. By now, it had started to snow again and the wind had picked up. They’d have to hurry.

Quickly, Daniel hooked up Dactyl, and then, after a bit of persuasion, Bear. He led them forward, dropping back to check on Pederson as they jolted ahead. The two dogs seemed eager to get on with their venture, and although they collided a few times at the beginning, they managed to drag the weight of their cargo. Pederson lay quietly with his hat pulled down around his eyes, as they bumped along the rough snow-covered terrain.

As they travelled, the sky darkened, and the wind blew stronger. Daniel encouraged the dogs to keep moving.

“We’ll have to hurry, the storm is getting strong again,” Daniel yelled back to Pederson, who nodded wearily without opening his eyes.

Daniel continued to lead the dogs over the hills towards his farm, but darkness was falling and the snow was really coming down now. He stopped at what he thought was the crest of a hill, and pulled out the compass. He tapped it.