Worthy of Riches (10 page)

His hunger satisfied, he sat facing the fire and discreetly studied each man. They had all come to Alaska looking for a new and better life. They were more like him than they wanted to admit. His eyes rested on Ray Townsend, who stood in the shadows smoking a cigarette and staring into the forest. His long, curly hair nearly hid his face.
What does he want from life? And why is he so angry?
Will wondered.

Will knew very little about the man's background. He'd heard that at one time Ray had been considered generous and kindly, but that had been before his wife died. Will tried to imagine how he'd feel if something happened to Jean. A mantle of grief fell over him. Life would be empty. A rush of sympathy and compassion for Ray touched Will.

Lord, what will it take to reach him? Show me if I can help.
The morning would come all too soon, so he said good night and climbed beneath his blankets and quickly fell asleep.

The next day was much the same as the first—long hours astride with Ray Townsend taking jabs at Will. The other men were different, however. They were friendlier; some even occasionally rode alongside the outsider and talked with him about their families and previous hunting excursions. Mike, who had seemed most distant, even asked
Will about his farm and his life in Wisconsin. Will smiled inwardly, knowing God was at work.

There was a drawback to the friendly conversation, however. It seemed to intensify Ray's ire. His temper flared, and now Will wasn't its only target. Ray hurried the pace, as if wanting to put an end to the trip.

Ray stopped and stared up at a spruce while his horse fidgeted. “Take a look at that.” He nodded at deep slashes high in the tree. “That's him. He's letting us know this is his territory.” Ray kicked his horse in the flanks and moved on. “We're getting closer.” He glanced over his shoulder. Eyes alight, he said, “Watch your back there, farmer. Never know when he might sneak up on ya.”

“I'll do that,” Will said evenly.

The men saw many signs of the bear that day, but no bear. When they camped, it was understood that Will would cook. The men wolfed down the meal, and another chink came down. Ray kept to himself. When Will put out his bedroll that night, Ray was still up, sitting by the fire and staring at the flames. His hand rested on Jed's head, who now seemed to be his only companion.

Exhausted, Will fell asleep almost immediately. He woke to Jed's deep growl. Remaining motionless, he barely breathed. He scanned the encampment. As he stared into the darkness, his eyes caught the outline of a hulking shape. His flesh prickled. Something was there!

Jed's growl intensified; then barking ferociously, he hurled himself at the shadow. Everyone in camp was awake now. Will grabbed his rifle and backed away from a blur of gray and white dog and the snapping roar of a large animal. Heavy footfalls moved away from camp with Jed pursuing. The sound of splintering limbs and cracking underbrush carried from the surrounding woods. Jed's yapping and snarling continued as he lay into the interloper.

The camp resonated with shouting and cursing as men grabbed guns and stumbled out of their bedding. Someone tossed wood on the fire. It flared to life, but whatever had invaded the camp was gone. Jed's barking attested to that, moving further and further into the forest.

“Jed! Jed!” Ray called. “Come on, boy!” He waited, but the dog didn't return.

“Was that him?” one of the men asked. “Was that the devil?”

Ray grabbed the unlit end of a burning branch, and holding it up, headed toward the woods. Peering into the darkness beyond the light of his makeshift torch, he hollered, “Jed. Get back here! Jed!” Barking, the dog continued his pursuit. Then they heard a yelp and another yelp. Suddenly the forest turned quiet. “Jed!” The cracking of underbrush carried through the night air as the bear retreated.

Ray stood for a long time, torch above his head. Finally he returned to the campfire. “It was him. He doubled back on us. He's a devil, all right. We're lucky to be alive.” He tossed his torch into the flames. “Fool dog.” He sat on a log. “I'll keep watch,” he said, his voice sad.

Will slept fitfully, his dreams filled with images of a dead calf, a bloodied sow, and Jean standing in the doorway of their house. Her face was etched with worry, and tears wet her cheeks. Will wanted to tell her that everything would be all right, but in his gut he wasn't sure. He was afraid. The bear was hiding, waiting for him. He knew it. He had to stay alert and watchful, but all he could see was blackness! He could hear footfalls!

Will startled awake and for a moment lay perfectly still, trying to drag himself away from the nightmare. The sky was alight, but the men were sleeping, all except Ray. He stood at the edge of the clearing with a scruffy-looking Jed sitting beside him. The bear hadn't gotten the best of him, although it was clear he'd tangled with the monster.

Will sat up and scrubbed his face with his hands. His eyes rested on Ray, who stared out into the forest, his expression resolute. Will knew he was thinking about the grizzly and that he was more determined than ever to get him.

The hunting party was up and moving early and on the bear's trail. Jed limped but managed to keep up. They were closing in. The tracks were fresh. Only now, the animal had circled around the men and they had become the prey.

“It's time to turn the tables on him,” Ray said. “Time to get that devil.” He climbed off his horse and tied him to a tree. Everyone else dismounted. “I want you to divide into twos,” he said. “We'll round him up.”

“You think we ought to go into that thick underbrush?” Joe asked, his face white.

“
We've
no choice. We can't wait for him. He's not going to show himself, and after what happened last night, we can't wait.” He pointed south. “There's a ridge that runs along there. Frank and I will head west and circle around. You two, Mike and Jim, you come around the other way. We'll get this bear in a pickle and flush him out.” Without even looking at Will, he headed into the woods.

Will was left on his own. He hesitated, not knowing which way to go. He felt anxiety well up, then told himself,
I know a thing or two about hunting.
He headed into heavy foliage, following Ray's path. The musty smell of earth and vegetation assailed him. He couldn't see well, but still he moved on, stopping frequently to listen. The buzz of insects, chirping birds, and squawking of squirrels were the only sounds he could hear.

Keeping his rifle at his hip, the safety off, and his finger on the trigger, he pushed through the brush, hoping the bear would be between him and Ray Townsend. He knew the bear was close. He could sense it. More than once he thought he heard the grunt or pant of an animal. Although he couldn't see, he continued, driven by a sense of urgency. He had to get that bear.

EVERY NERVE BRISTLING, WILL MOVED THROUGH HEAVY BRUSH. HE COULDN'T shake the sense that he was being tracked. He stopped and listened. Nothing stirred. Even the raucous cries of cranky jays had ceased. Will smelled the air but detected only the scent of evergreen and earth.

He pushed on, his feet catching in a tangle of ferns, dead leaves, and cranberry bushes as he moved through aspens and willows wrangling with spruce for ground. Skirting a large devil's club, he nearly plunged down a steep embankment. Regaining his balance, he studied a ravine veiled by the heavy greenery. His eyes took in the upper ridge, searching for man or beast. He saw neither.

Suddenly the crackle of underbrush fractured the air. Off to his right, something crashed through the foliage. Rocks and dirt spilled down the gorge wall, followed by a tumbling body. Cries of pain and cursing accompanied the man. It was Ray Townsend. He didn't stop until he reached the bottom, then lay still, looking like a pile of limbs, boots, and clothing.

Forgetting about the grizzly for the moment, Will started down. Ray lay too still, too quiet. Keeping his body parallel to the hill, Will moved as quickly as he could, planting his feet in loose dirt and rocks and using vines and branches for handholds.

By the time he reached the bottom, he was out of breath and his thighs ached, but he sprinted to Ray. He felt for a heartbeat. It was strong and steady. Will carefully disentangled the man's limbs and rolled him to his back. Ray moaned. Brushing away dirt and leaves, Will quickly scanned his body. He didn't see any obvious injuries. “Ray? You all right?”

The big man opened his eyes and blinked, then spit dirt. “I think so.” He pushed up on one arm and bent his leg. “Ahh,” he hollered, grabbing his knee. “I think it's broke.”

“Let me take a look.” Will pulled out his hunting knife and cut open the pant leg. The knee was already swollen, and the leg above and below had begun to turn dark blue. He resheathed his knife. “You might be right. It doesn't look good.” He leaned back slightly. “Can you stand?”

Grimacing, Ray pushed himself into a sitting position, then tried to rise. Letting out a cry, he crumpled back to the ground. Beads of sweat dotting his face, he closed his eyes. “I can't walk.”

Will studied the landscape. Steep walls reached up on two sides, and a narrow gorge stretched ahead and behind. “Getting you out of here isn't going to be easy.”

The sounds of splintering underbrush came from the ridge, and rocks and dirt skittered down the bank. Both men's eyes went to the crest and moved along the rim. Ray whispered, “I'd like to know where that bear is.”

A surge of alarm swept through Will. He'd forgotten about the grizzly. “It's probably one of the men.” He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, “Hey, anyone up there?” He received no reply. A branch cracked and bushes moved. “Who's up there?” No answer. Fear moved in. “We better get you out of here. I'll have to haul you up.”

“And how do you propose to do that? It's a steep climb, and I ain't no sack of potatoes.”

“Where's Frank? You started off together.”

“He headed toward the other ridge.” Ray searched the ground around him, then scanned the slope where he'd fallen. “You seen my rifle?”

Will made a quick search but didn't find the gun. “No telling where it is,” he said. “We'll just have to go without it.”

“I paid good money for it, and I'm not leaving without it.” He made another visual search.

Concealing his frustration, Will looked again. When he didn't find it, he said as calmly as he could, “It could have ended up in a lot of places, and we don't have time to look. We've got to get you out of here. You need a doctor.”

“Just hightail it. Find someone to help.”

“Good idea, except you don't have a rifle, and I'm not about to leave without mine.”

“You have a point.” Again Ray scanned the hillside. “So, how do we get out?”

“Looks like it might be easier going along there.” Will pointed toward a slope with a gentler grade. He handed his rifle to Ray. “I'll have to carry you. You can hang on to the gun.” He thought for a moment. “This is going to take teamwork, and it's gonna' hurt—”

“Pain ain't new to me. Just tell me what you want me to do,” Ray snapped.

Will silently prayed for patience. With half a smile, he said, “Like you said, you're not a small man. I need you to push yourself up with your good leg so I can get my shoulder under your gut.”

“You're literally going to carry me?” Ray asked incredulously.

Will grinned. “You have another idea?”

Ray didn't answer.

“You'd be surprised what farming can do for a man's strength,” Will said, grabbing hold of Ray's arm. “Come on, let's get to it. I don't much like the idea of becoming bear fodder.”

To a tirade of cussing and groans, Will slung Ray over his shoulders. Bent beneath the weight, he started up the embankment. “Feels like you ought to lay off those extra flapjacks and syrup.”

“Maybe you should keep your mouth shut and walk.”

Tempted to dump his load, Will kept moving. “Just hang on to my gun and keep quiet.” Will thought he heard a chuckle from Ray.

A low snarl accompanied by the sound of splintering twigs and cracking brush resonated from above. “He's up there,” Ray said. “Just waitin' for us.”

Will stopped. “Maybe it's something else.”

“It's not.” Ray swung the rifle around. “He could come out of there at any moment, and I can't shoot from this position. You better set me down.”

Bending at the knees, Will lowered Ray to the ground. He took the gun and pulled on the lever. It was jammed. He tried again. “It's stuck.”

“Should have known,” Ray growled. “Give me that thing.” Will handed him the gun. “You farmers don't know the first thing about what really matters. Don't you know you gotta keep your rifle in good shape? You gotta be able to count on it.” He struggled to release the bolt. “Looks like the workings are rusted.”

“It's old. It belonged to my father.”

“Why didn't you get another one?”

“I have a newer one at home, but I left it for Luke. That gun's been fine for years.”

Hands trembling, Ray worked on the rifle. He pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. Shaking his head, he said, “We're dead.” More snapping of twigs and brush rose from the ridge. He followed the sounds with his eyes. “He's checking us out. Wants to make sure we're easy pickings.” He glowered at Will. “Which we are.”

Will's pulse climbed. He grabbed the gun, pulled on the lever again, then the trigger, then lever. It was still jammed. Finally he handed it to Ray. “S'pose you could use it as a club.” He searched for a heavy branch. When he found one, he picked it up and swung it several times. “This will have to do.”

“You think that's going to stop a grizzly?” Ray asked derisively. “You're more of a fool than I thought.”

“David brought down Goliath with a sling and a rock.”

Ray scowled.

Rocks tumbled down from straight above them, then the sounds of stirring brush and cracking limbs moved along the ridge. Will's pulse raced, and his stomach felt tight. He knew they were in trouble. “Father, we need your help. Do what needs to be done.”

“If I were you, I'd be on my way,” Ray said nonchalantly. “Leave me. At least that way one of us has a chance.”

Will ignored him. “Let's keep moving. Sounds like whatever's making that racket is heading away. Maybe he'll leave us be.” Still gripping the heavy branch, Will hoisted Ray onto his shoulders. Ray held the useless gun. One agonizing step at a time, they made their way up the slope, keeping their eyes trained on the place where the rocks and debris had come from.