Chapter 6: Going Camping_The Three Adventurers

Chapter 6: Going Camping

The next day they traveled toward the north, stopping off at a small town called Red Bluff at some point in the early afternoon. There they bought tacos for lunch and sat in the car eating them while making their plans for crossing the mountains eastwards.

“We don’t have much money left, altogether,” Eugene commented, taking his own bills from his pocket and counting them over, “staying in that hotel was expensive.”

“So was the dinner,” Leaflow added, flicking most of the lettuce out of his tacos with a fingertip onto their open wrappers, “I think we need to live more simply from here on out, at least until we find another job or reach Yad.”

Maniac crammed a taco whole into his mouth, crunching it loudly before putting in, “say, I have an idea. Why don’t we spend the rest of our money on camping supplies? Then we can just live out of the car for as long as we want.”

“We can hunt, fish and stay out there a long, long time?” Leaflow suggested wryly.

“Exactly!” Maniac pointed down the street to where Main street connected to it, “I think we even passed a sporting goods store back there a little ways. It’s sure to have everything we need. My father used to keep a place like that when I was young. I always loved to go to work with him and fondle the weapons.”

Eugene nodded his agreement slowly, “sounds like a good idea. Though we’ll still have to earn money along the way to buy things sometimes. I’m not going to eat dead animals the whole way to this Yad fellow.”

“You just ate one,” Leaflow pointed out, indicating the crumbles of hamburger on his lap.

“You know what I mean,” Eugene rolled his eyes like a teenager. But as the all agreed on the plan, so Leaflow drove them over to the sporting goods store as soon as he was done with lunch. They went in on a fine raid, picking out a tent, sleeping bags and cooler to fit their needs.

Maniac also insisted on outfitting himself with a huge hunting knife to strap on to his side, though the fancy rifle he wanted to go with it was far beyond their means. In fact, they had to give up the idea of any long-range weapon at all, as guns and ammo were just too expensive for them to afford.

“But the whole point was for us to feed ourselves!” Maniac protested when the other two broke the news to him, “put back the tent if you need to, but we should get a rifle.”

“We’ll buy one later, at the next town maybe,” Eugene waved him off, “we don’t need it right away. We still have enough money to buy some simple food supplies. If we’re careful they should last us a week. Besides, do we really want the forest rangers after us as well as the police?”

Maniac wasn’t happy with this arrangement, but he had his knife to console himself with as they went out and loaded their items into the trunk of the car. Driving to the nearest food store, they bought bread rolls, sausages, bacon, cheese (to please their neighborhood cloaked one) and a few other lasting edibles. The meat went into the cooler with ice, the rest was tossed into the trunk along with the other supplies and they were ready to go.

Maniac took the passenger seat, claiming that it was his turn to ride up front. Eugene had to sprawl in the back, which had more room to each side though it was rather cramped front to back.

His thoughts wandered down private avenues for a time as they drove, before his attention was caught by the changing scenery around them. The hills were becoming steeper and the rocks more craggy. Many of the stones lay about on the fields or stuck up through the grass, pocked and gnarled. It was volcano territory, the fiery mountains having long ago shaped the land with their spills of cooling magma. Wild flowers and oats grew beside the road and around the rocks now, waving brightly in the breeze. Tall oaks grew in the creek bottoms, while majestic pines capped the heights. In between trees mingled in every shade of green foliage.

As the land grew more ridged and sheer it also became covered in clumps of various brush. Some types of bushes flowered in yellow or purple, while others stood like hedgehogs of prickly gray. Eugene recognized the maroon skinned manzanita among them, though most plants passed by too quickly for him to make out.

Blue peaks had been resting on the horizon all morning. Now as they neared the hills seemed to fade to lush green, the color of the conifers which covered them from head to heel where patches of cut wood or outcroppings of stone did not intrude. Gradually they found themselves driving through the tall forests, which were shaded and streaked beautifully with late sunlight. The brush had become sparser and the rocks were less frequent, though larger when they were seen. It was long after they had crossed a summit and were heading down the other side when Leaflow began to glance anxiously at his gauges. Eugene watched him peek toward them frequently, then tap one with a finger, before the thief asked, “what’s up, Leaflow?”

“Hmm,” for a few minutes the cloaked man did not answer, as they went around a long blind curve. When they were back out on a comparative straight again he answered, “do you know, there is one thing which we forgot to buy in town.”

“What?” Eugene was clutched by that vague fear of something important left behind, which is often the bane of motorists.

“Gasoline,” Leaflow returned, just before the engine gave a strange little gasp in its running. It went on smoothly for a minute before chugging again.

“Oh no!” Eugene slapped his forehead, leaning over to look at the fuel gauge. It read empty, though there was obviously a little bit left that the car was running on. “You forgot to fill up the tank! How could you forget something like that? And I was beginning to think that you were smarter than you looked.”

He collapsed back in the chair, groaning and shaking his head. Leaflow shot him a reproving glance.

“I wasn’t the only one who spent all of our money before leaving town. Someone get out the map and let’s see how far the next town is.”

“Where is the map?” Maniac began to search the center console, while Eugene reached over him and opened the glove compartment, “here it is. I’ll look at it.”

He pulled out the top piece of paper and unfolded it, showing a map of California. After a brief search he found the town of Red Bluff near the base of the mountains. It was further south on the paper than he had expected, but as it had a highway leading east he did not question it. Following the highway with his finger, he came to a point past a summit where the road took a sharp bend. Beyond was a straight, then another, longer bend toward the south.

“Here, the town of Ambrose,” He said, tapping it with his finger, “it’s south-east of us, that way.” He pointed off into the trees, adding, “by road it’s about forty miles.”

“We won’t make it on this tank of gas,” Leaflow eased the chugging vehicle over on to the side, where a dirt road led off into the trees. He pulled down the road a short distance before parking on the side and shutting his car off. With an affectionate pat on the hood, he promised, “we’ll come back with fuel for you as soon as possible. For now I suppose we hitchhike?”

“I have a better idea,” Eugene stood up on the back seat, gazing off into the trees, “because of the bend in the road, it would be a lot quicker to go cross-country in that direction. Make a straight line. The ground will be rougher, but the trip shorter. We should be able to get there by tomorrow, around late morning, camping at night in the woods.”

“Are you sure?” Leaflow held out his hand, “let me see that map.”

“What, you don’t trust me?” Eugene folded it and put it in his pocket, “you’ve already messed up, forgetting the gas. I’ll be in charge of navigating, I think.”

“Well,” Maniac dusted his hands together, pulling the cooler from the back of the car, “I think it’s a wonderful idea to hike across camping in the woods. All that driving was starting to get me down.”

With that it was decided. Leaflow put up the hood and locked the car, pocketing the keys. Packing the sleeping bags, tent and cooler between them, they all three set out into the trees.

The going was easy at first, ground fairly level and carpeted in a thick layer of dry needles. Despite yet another setback, Eugene felt his spirits rise at the beautiful land around them. Little meadows glowed in the sun here and there, with lilies and daisies around the edges. In the forest chipmunks hopped about looking for seeds or ravens flew by cawing loudly. And it did feel good to stretch his legs after all of the driving they had been doing the last few days.

The conifer trees made it cool and shady underneath them, allowing them to stride along at a good pace without getting too hot.

But soon the going got rougher, the land springing up into a tall ridge bulging with gray boulders. They toiled up through low, prickly gooseberries and matted brush until they reached the top. A break in the trees allowed a view back at the highway behind them, until they plunged off into the forest on the other side.

By evening time they had reached the bottom of the ridge, where a clear creek flowed chattering through a shallow stream. It was bedded in gravel and had willows growing along it most places, either that or heaps of thorny blackberries. But at one spot they found an open meadow beside it and decided to settle down there for the night. Maniac began pitch the tent, Leaflow cleared an area for a campfire and Eugene went to see how clean the water was for drinking.

Before anything else he found that it was delightfully cold on his feet. Secondly he learned that it felt wonderful on his face, when he splashed in it. It was not until then that he tried drinking a handful and found it just as good to the taste as it was to the skin. Glancing up the stream, he saw that it sprang out of the ridge not far off in a tangle of boulders and blackberries. He drank a few large mouthfuls before calling back to his companions, “the water is good!”

“Fetch some in the pot then,” Maniac called back, swinging an improvised hammer over his shoulders to give a tent stake a blow. But the hammer was only made of a stone lashed to a forked stick and it came apart at this motion. The top piece went flying through the air behind Maniac.

It landed near Leaflow on the ground, bounced once and came to a stop. Leaflow picked it up, remarking, “some people around here lose their head far too easily.”

Eugene tramped over in his bare feet to pick up the one cooking pot, smirking, “and others have to keep it for them. Make sure that fire’s pretty well smokeless, Leafy, we don’t want to have it put out by a bomber with a thousand gallons of water in its belly.”

He sloshed the pot in the stream to get rid of any dust from the store, before filling it with the clear spring water. Putting his boots back on his damp feet he trudged back to the fire ring.

While the other two weren’t watching he made himself comfortable under the shade of a nearby tree and lay back to observe them. Maniac had given up on the hammer idea, simply using a larger stone to strike the stakes into the ground. He missed once and hit his thumb, dropping the stone to clutch at the damaged appendage with a curse. Glancing around afterwards, he waited for someone to comment, but when they didn’t he went wrathfully back to knocking the stakes in. Eugene noted that Maniac had made a lot more fuss over that one pinch on the thumb than he had over any of the blows received in the restaurant a few days before.

Meanwhile Leaflow had laid out a crumpled piece of paper with thin slivers of a split, dry branch leaned around it. After adding to this a few dry, prickly branches of brush, he arose to go find larger wood in the trees. Walking quickly and quietly, he was soon off of Eugene’s radar.

The thief fell to dozing then, eyes closed lightly and head resting against the rough bark behind him. It was the sound of a faint crackle in the pine needles directly beside him which first warned that someone was near. Before he could get his eyes open or react a miniature waterfall had been splashed down into his face.

Eugene struggled to a sitting position, sputtering and wiping at his eyes. Looking up, he saw Leaflow holding the now-empty cooking pot and gazing back.

“Having a nice nap, once again?”

“What was that for?” Jumping up, the young man tried to wipe the water off of his clothes, but it had already soaked in. Without a reply Leaflow moved back over to the camp fire ring, dropping a few branches on it from his free hand. Then, still without an explanation, he went to refill the pot at the stream.

“What was that for!” Eugene repeated, enraged at his coolness, “I wasn’t doing anything wrong.”

“Or anything at all, for that matter,” Leaflow came back to light the fire with a strange, glittering lighter from his pocket, “why don’t you go find more wood, if you have nothing better to do?”

“Humph. And what will you be doing? Recharging your glowing eyes on the flames?” The thief challenged.

“Looking for wood as well. In that direction,” the cloaked one indicated a direction opposite of Eugene before strolling off that way.

“I’ll fix him,” Eugene muttered, stomping off into the woods. It was not long before he found a cedar tree which had died and fallen over, but still had some dry branches sticking up into the air. He broke them off with loud snaps, which sounded like the shots of a gun echoing through the trees. Once he had collected an armful of them he returned to dump the load with a clatter beside the rocks around the fire.

Maniac had finished putting up the tent by now and was chucking the sleeping bag rolls inside of it. It was a brightly-colored dome of thin plastic, set like a bubble on the side of the clearing. Eugene said, “I wonder if we should disguise it with branches a little? We probably aren’t supposed to be camping here.”

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

“Oh, no one is around to see it,” Maniac shrugged, gesturing at the expanses of unmarked trees around them, “besides, we’ll be gone tomorrow.”

With a shrug, Eugene went back to get some more branches. The log still had some to give, though many of the ones left were thicker and harder to break off.

As he was bending over to pick up a shattered stick from the ground he heard a grunt beside him and looked up right into the little, squinty eyes of a wild boar. It’s yellowed fangs opened in a panting snort as it looked back at him, eyes widening in anger at the contact. The hair on the back of its neck began to bristle.

With a shout Eugene dropped his load and dashed for the campsite, the hog charging behind him.

“Maniac!” he cried, bursting into the meadow with the creature still hot on his heels. It was just a step behind him as he flung himself at a tree, scrambling up it to the safety of the high branches. Looking down, he saw his friend drop a skewer he had been making from a stick as he glanced up. A wild look came into Maniac’s eyes as he gripped the big knife tighter and dashed toward the heavy pig.

“Yahhh!”

It was the tiger all over again, but this time neither side was playing. Eugene hung on the branch, put an arm up to his eyes to block out the sight, “oh, this is terrible.”

When he looked again the pine needles were stained red with blood and the battle had fragmented into carnage.

---

Later that night the fire crackled and spat, devouring the grease which dripped into it. Over the flames a huge ham was suspended, skin turning a crispy brown. Ribs were propped up beside it, fat oozing as they blackened. A knife tip sliced down between them, peeling a pair off.

“Just like old times, eh, Leaflow?” Maniac said as he handed the roast ribs over to the cloaked man.

“Yes, but this will be far better than whatever that road-killed beast was,” Leaflow took the hot bones in his gloved hands without a flinch. Eugene had to juggle his when they were handed over, speaking between exclamations at the heat, “I still can’t believe you got out of that alive, Maniac.”

“Ah, there’s a method to it,” Maniac took the last three of the set for himself, “you just go in screaming and don’t give ‘em a chance to fight back.”

“That sounds like a lunatic way to fight, to me,” Eugene retorted, “especially as he had plenty of time to fight back. You two were rolling on the ground for at least thirty seconds.”

“But I still had the advantage of surprise, which is the important thing,” the great hunter tapped him on the head with one of the rib bones, “just like the time I tracked down the great Pu’lit tiger in India.”

“Sounds like you have a campfire story there. Care to share it?”

“Only if each of you entertains us with something afterwards.”

“Deal.”

Maniac nibbled reflectively on the meat for a few moments, before beginning:

THE PU’LIT TIGER

“I’m not much of a story teller, I’m afraid, but I’ll give it a shot anyway. It’s not on a wager.”

“I was once invited to the hunting grounds of a maharajah in the Banhavgarh park in India, as I mentioned once before. Well, anyway, he was a good fellow with a lot of stout men at his command, but none of them could catch the Pu’lit tiger. It was a great beast, bigger than any tiger seen for three thousand years on the face of the earth, and it was making a nuisance of itself raiding chicken coops in nearby villages. It would just walk up, break the wooden cages to pieces and gobble down as many chickens as it felt inclined to. Which was usually all of them.”

“As soon as I heard of it, I volunteered myself to hunt the beast down. Not only did it sound like good sport, but the maharajah was offering a feast and a reward to whoever killed it. So I packed up his favorite hunting rifle (which he lent me), a week’s worth of supplies, two servants to keep camp, three hunting spears, eight knives, three cooking pots--"

(Here the other two interrupted him with a warning to leave the supplies out and get on with the story...)

“Yes, well, a lot of good things were packed onto an elephant and sent with us, including an army surplus jeep to get around on. Then we started in to the deep, dark jungles, where pythons the length of a school bus and cobras more deadly than a woman’s scorn hid in every rock pile.”

“I ate two of them on the way out, in fact, and they were quite good since the natives took all of the venom out. But you don’t care about that, I see.”

“Yes, ah, the tiger. Well, after two and a half days we camped beside a dark and murky river where wild elephants often came to drink. Unfortunately, our pack beast got friendly with them and ran off with almost all of my supplies, including the servants.” “Luckily, I had already unloaded the jeep, one knife and the rifle, so I was set. All I had to do now was hunt down the Pu’lit tiger himself.”

“Driving about on disused logging roads, it was not long before I ran into his tracks in the dust. They were huge, each toe sunk deeply into the earth. By this, and the fact that he had crossed the road without a show of stealth, I gathered that he had just eaten a large meal and was on his way to his lair. Now was the time to strike. Leaving the army jeep behind I set out on foot, tracking him through the jungle, deep into a thicket. Here a huge old tree had once fallen over and become hung up on a boulder, making a passable den. His tracks led into there, not only from his last trip, but from the many before as well.”

“Cocking my rifle and unsheathing my knife, I stalked up to the den. Every hair on my body was quivering with tension. Step after step I took, tiny and soft to avoid his attention. Sticks and grass I avoided. Leaves had to be gone over softly. Each footstep was another moment of tension going by. Step...step...step... It seemed like hours and hours until I reached the mouth of his lair--"

(Here the other two commented that it had seemed like hours to them, as well.)

“Be quiet, we’re almost to the good part. I’ll knock your heads together if you break in again. Anyway, I was strung up tight by the time I got to the mouth of the cavern.”

“Slowly I bent down to look inside, making sure to point my gun ahead of me. There I saw in the back of the cavern between tree and rock--nothing! Just the empty nest of leaves where the tiger was accustomed to sleep. At that moment I heard a soft growl behind me.”

“It was an ambush! Whipping around I came face-to-face with the monster, standing there in all his glory of orange and black stripes. His claws were unsheathed, mouth open to show blood-stained teeth four inches long. I didn’t have a moment to spare. He would spring any second, having got the element of surprise on me instead of the other way around. But in that split second of time a brilliant plan came to my mind. I would surprise him yet!”

“Dropping my rifle I rolled to the ground, screaming and calling out like a Swiss mountaineer the whole time. This startled him and before he could recover I had rolled up under his throat and found my mark with a stab of the knife. But tigers are hard to kill with a single blow. He had so much vitality to him that he still managed to rip my shoulder open with his five-inch claws while I struggled with him and blood dripped down into my face.”

“Finally the fight was over and he lay dead. I was pretty stove up as well, but luckily the servants managed to get control of the elephant around then and came back to find me. So I was carried back to the mahrajah’s palace in glory, all because of my surprising tactics.”

---

“They surprise even me,” Leaflow put in when the story was over.

“Yeah,” Eugene agreed, “I can’t believe you’ve survived so long, if you throw yourself at every problem that way.”

The ham had finished roasting by then and was set aside for breakfast, while the fire died down to an orange glow. It illuminated all of their faces with a red light, which flickered with shadows as they talked.

“It’s better than skulking in the shade like some people I could mention,” Maniac glared at him, “besides, I’m here now, so you know it must work. What sort of story are you going to tell us, Mr. Thief?”

Eugene smiled slowly, “one that is a lot more believable than yours, even though it’s just a fairy tale.”

“Go ahead,” Leaflow told him, “I enjoy old folklore as well as the comparatively new type.”

The young man settled himself with legs crossed, a particular expression settling on his features as he prepared to tell his story. His face seemed to open out and brighten, dropping the sarcastic look that it almost always wore otherwise.

“This is the story of:”

“HOW SHADOWS CAME TO BE”

“In the beginning of the world light and dark were not separate things, but were created as one. There was no sun, no moon or stars. No sunlight or shadows anywhere.”

“Earth had a beautiful daughter called Light, who was loved by a man called Dark. They lived together in the underground halls of Earth, never apart. The walls of the mansion were decorated with shining globes, one huge one of gold and many smaller ones of silver. Light and Dark were very happy there. But Old man Earth was jealous. He thought that his daughter was spending too much time with her lover and not taking care of him enough. So he turned Dark into a white bird and flung him out into the empty world, which was only covered in water and bare dirt at the time. Dark wandered in the shape of a bird, saddened and lost for many days.”

“I wish I could return to Light,” he moaned, fluttering above the waters. Then he spotted an island below him, which had a great crack in it running down underground.” “Something sparkled down there, glittering out of the hole. Flying down to investigate, Dark saw the ornaments of Earth’s halls and realized that he had found a secret way in. Flapping down to the floor, he picked all of the glowing ornaments off of the wall so that he should not be seen and hid them under one wing. He soon found Light and invited her to run away with him to the upper reaches of the world.”

“She agreed, but only if he would carry a brand of fire to warm themselves with, since it was cold up on the bare earth. Hopping in his bird shape over to a fire, he picked up the brand in his beak and began to fly away with it, Light running after. But when they got outside the heat of the fire began to burn his beak, while the smoke blackened his wings. Unable to stand any more, Dark dropped the fire to the ground, where it went into the rocks. That is why when you strike rocks with iron, you see sparks in them even to this day--"

(Here the other two broke in to ask him why the fire went into the rocks at all, instead of burning up Light, who was running below.)

“Shut up. I’m not done with the story yet. Let me see. Oh, yes; Dark was stained black by this, so Light turned herself into a black bird to match him, so that they could live together once again. They lived for a year like that in the cold rocks of the earth, raising up a brood of children which they called 'Ravens’.”

But old man Earth was angry when he found that his daughter had run away. He told the Sky what had happened and promised the Sky all of his silver and gold ornaments if Sky would help him get his revenge on the two lovers. Sky was a very powerful being and agreed to help with his magic. He tore Light away from Dark and put a barrier between them, making them into spirits who were not allowed to come in contact with one another. Then he took the ornaments away from Dark and hung them in the sky, calling the golden one 'Sun’ and setting it to watch over Light, while the biggest silver one became the 'Moon’ to watch over Dark. All the little ones he hung around the moon, to help watch Dark because he was so cunning.”

“Powerful Sky called the place he had put Light, the day, and the place he had put Dark, the night. They tried to find each other by going around the whole world searching, but no matter how far to the west they ran neither could leave their places. As you can imagine, they were very sad. Dark called out to the great creator, “Why did you make me to be so miserable that I’ll never see Light again?”

The creator had pity on him. So the creator told Dark that he could see Light, but only if he stood behind trees and rocks where she could not see him. Sometimes they even almost touch, in the patterns leaves throw on the ground, but they are still not allowed to mingle as they once did, not until the end of the Earth. That is how shadows came to be.”

---

Maniac yawned loudly, “That was a boring story. Why didn’t Dark go down and beat the snot out of crippled old Earth if he was so cunning?”

“Or Light could have poisoned her father. It’s not unheard of,” Leaflow suggested seriously.

Eugene snorted, crossing his arms angrily, “you two are just barbarians. No sense of finesse or storytelling at all. What are you going to tell about now, Leaflow, how mass murders are carried out?”

“Not exactly,” Leaflow folded his hands around one knee, “I was thinking of asking a long riddle, if that was acceptable. After both of your stories I think another one of the same would only go amiss.”

Figuratively stropping his wits for the challenge, Eugene leaned forward, “Alright, go ahead with it.”

“THE GRASS RIDDLE”

“There was a hole in the ground,