starts to make you feel sick,’ he added, ‘swallow charcoal from the fire. That’ll bring it back up in an instant.’
‘Oh, how I love living rough . . .’ Tikaani murmured.
Now that they had a reasonable idea of what was safe to eat and what wasn’t, they used the last half-hour of sunlight to search for more food – enough to get them over the mountains the next day and down into the trees on the other side.
And finally they could sleep. They lay back-to-back for warmth with their heads pillowed on the rucksacks and hats pulled down over their eyes. Judging by the sound of his breathing, Tikaani was asleep almost at once. The shelter was snug, as Beck had promised. The wind knocked against it from the other side, but none of it got through. The air inside the shelter was still, retaining its warmth, and the fire radiated heat. Beck lay on his side and listened to the wood crackling gently.
And then he thought of Uncle Al, alone in a shelter not much bigger than this. Had he kept his fire going? Did he still have any strength? How was he?
Suddenly Beck sat bolt upright. Two eyes twinkled back at him from the dark. Beck’s heart was pounding.
The eyes had gone but he could have sworn . . .
They had been close together, reflecting green in the light, the way dogs’ eyes did. Or wolves’.
Were there wolves up here? He had been half asleep: maybe he was imagining it . . .
Beck lay cautiously back down and thought. There was no question of moving on now – if there were wolves out there, they would just follow them. And it had only been one pair of eyes; wolves hunted in packs, so there should have been many more.
Another predator? Maybe a wolverine? What colour were their eyes? He didn’t know.
But wolves rarely attacked humans . . .
And the fire should keep any animals away . . .
And . . .
Beck fell asleep while he was still thinking through options.
CHAPTER 18
‘What are you looking for?’ asked Tikaani.
Beck started; he hadn’t realized Tikaani was awake.
It was the second day of their journey. He had woken with the sun, which he tended to do whenever he was sleeping out of doors. Then he had got up to check their little camp for signs of animal intrusion during the night. There were none – no scratches, no paw prints – and he had decided he’d just imagined the eyes last night. He had only seen them for a moment anyway.
‘Just . . . checking,’ he said.
Tikaani was sitting up in the shelter, rubbing his eyes sleepily. ‘So does the maid bring us breakfast or do we have to get it ourselves?’ he asked. Itlooked like his earlier question was already forgotten so Beck didn’t pursue it.
‘The maid’s taken the day off. We have to get it ourselves,’ he said with a smile. Then he looked up at the mountains above them and thought about what else they had to do that day. Cross the mountains; get across some thick, deep snow fields and down the other side.
‘And if she isn’t back by the time we‘ve eaten,’ he added, ‘I’ll have to ask you to give me a hand.’
‘You know,’ Tikaani said later, ‘a pair of these from the store in Anakat would set you back, like, a hundred dollars.’
He was holding the two ends of a thin branch that Beck had broken off a tree. It was supple and evergreen, which meant it bent easily. Beck had forced the two ends round towards each other so that now it was shaped like the head of a tennis racket. He looked up from his work and grinned.
‘I bet they wouldn’t be tailor-made for the individual,’ he pointed out.
‘Well, no,’ Tikaani agreed with a straight face. ‘Craftsmanship of this quality can’t be bought.’
Beck was making them each a pair of snowshoes. They were going to be walking through snow later on. He knew there was nothing more tiring, and nothing more likely to give you frostbite. Tikaani knew all about frostbite. It was something else that you couldn’t grow up in an Anak community and not be aware of. The body
‘Oh, how I love living rough . . .’ Tikaani murmured.
Now that they had a reasonable idea of what was safe to eat and what wasn’t, they used the last half-hour of sunlight to search for more food – enough to get them over the mountains the next day and down into the trees on the other side.
And finally they could sleep. They lay back-to-back for warmth with their heads pillowed on the rucksacks and hats pulled down over their eyes. Judging by the sound of his breathing, Tikaani was asleep almost at once. The shelter was snug, as Beck had promised. The wind knocked against it from the other side, but none of it got through. The air inside the shelter was still, retaining its warmth, and the fire radiated heat. Beck lay on his side and listened to the wood crackling gently.
And then he thought of Uncle Al, alone in a shelter not much bigger than this. Had he kept his fire going? Did he still have any strength? How was he?
Suddenly Beck sat bolt upright. Two eyes twinkled back at him from the dark. Beck’s heart was pounding.
The eyes had gone but he could have sworn . . .
They had been close together, reflecting green in the light, the way dogs’ eyes did. Or wolves’.
Were there wolves up here? He had been half asleep: maybe he was imagining it . . .
Beck lay cautiously back down and thought. There was no question of moving on now – if there were wolves out there, they would just follow them. And it had only been one pair of eyes; wolves hunted in packs, so there should have been many more.
Another predator? Maybe a wolverine? What colour were their eyes? He didn’t know.
But wolves rarely attacked humans . . .
And the fire should keep any animals away . . .
And . . .
Beck fell asleep while he was still thinking through options.
CHAPTER 18
‘What are you looking for?’ asked Tikaani.
Beck started; he hadn’t realized Tikaani was awake.
It was the second day of their journey. He had woken with the sun, which he tended to do whenever he was sleeping out of doors. Then he had got up to check their little camp for signs of animal intrusion during the night. There were none – no scratches, no paw prints – and he had decided he’d just imagined the eyes last night. He had only seen them for a moment anyway.
‘Just . . . checking,’ he said.
Tikaani was sitting up in the shelter, rubbing his eyes sleepily. ‘So does the maid bring us breakfast or do we have to get it ourselves?’ he asked. Itlooked like his earlier question was already forgotten so Beck didn’t pursue it.
‘The maid’s taken the day off. We have to get it ourselves,’ he said with a smile. Then he looked up at the mountains above them and thought about what else they had to do that day. Cross the mountains; get across some thick, deep snow fields and down the other side.
‘And if she isn’t back by the time we‘ve eaten,’ he added, ‘I’ll have to ask you to give me a hand.’
‘You know,’ Tikaani said later, ‘a pair of these from the store in Anakat would set you back, like, a hundred dollars.’
He was holding the two ends of a thin branch that Beck had broken off a tree. It was supple and evergreen, which meant it bent easily. Beck had forced the two ends round towards each other so that now it was shaped like the head of a tennis racket. He looked up from his work and grinned.
‘I bet they wouldn’t be tailor-made for the individual,’ he pointed out.
‘Well, no,’ Tikaani agreed with a straight face. ‘Craftsmanship of this quality can’t be bought.’
Beck was making them each a pair of snowshoes. They were going to be walking through snow later on. He knew there was nothing more tiring, and nothing more likely to give you frostbite. Tikaani knew all about frostbite. It was something else that you couldn’t grow up in an Anak community and not be aware of. The body
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