And now:Ish <[EMAIL PROTECTED]> writes: >X-Originating-IP: [24.92.0.22] >From: "Karen Mitchell" <[EMAIL PROTECTED]> >To: [EMAIL PROTECTED] >Subject: Back to Nature: Uninvited Guest-Part 2 >Date: Wed, 23 Dec 1998 14:40:12 PST > >Remember this one hasn't come back to me from the editors yet, so >overlook any errors, please. >Karen >****************************************************************** >Back to Nature: >Univited Guest Part 2 >Uninvited Guest II > >The night sky was clear through to the vaulted heavens above where stars >pinholed into the darkness as the Milkyway ribboned across the galaxy, >like gauze on dark, blue velvet. The temperature had dropped to a >bitter cold of - 40 degrees Celsius. I stood at the living room window >for a long time looking out over the frozen landscape. Icicles hung >like daggers from the eaves of the small, log cabin. At this time of >the year in the Rockies the weather could be very unpredictable, one >minute calm and serene like a picture on a Christmas card, but in the >next minute turning violent, dangerous with deadly cold. I felt thankful >for the large fireplace that served partially as my stove and oven, >supplemented by a small, relatively useless, one burner, hot plate and >an old, electric heater that took the chill off the solitary bedroom. >Our water was pumped from the stream that ran a few hundred feet from >the front porch. I was never sure why or how this cabin came to be built >way out here alone in the wood but it was both affordable and adequate >for my three year old daughter, Jennifer, our one year old >Husky-malamute pup, Grishka and me. The thick, log walls were ample >insulation against a normal cold but the biting cold outside seemed to >seep through them now. I shuddered and thought I�d warm myself with a >hot cup of tea, but when I turned on the tap nothing came out. It�s been >necessary, on occasion, to loosen the ice from around the intake pipe >that laid on the bottom of the stream, but I�d been fortunate so far >that I�d been able to catch the problem during the day. Since we�d been >out all day I hadn�t noticed that the tap had stopped dripping until >now. This wasn�t a job that could wait, for the longer it was left the >tougher and more solidly frozen the pipe would become. I�d have to go. > >Dressed like a mummy, I took Grishka, my ax and a bucket and set out for >the stream. The cold met me like a brick wall as I stepped out the door, >taking my breath away. I trudged on. As the ax struck the ice it >shattered like glass flying in jagged pieces upon my arms and legs and >stinging my face like pin-needles. I smashed the ax repeatedly through >the thick ice then dragged the bucket to lift out the shards. My gloves >became soaked, but I could see the pipe where frozen debris covered the >opening. I had no choice but to plunge my hands into the icy cold water >to remove it. After several attempts my hands became numb and my gloves >frozen stiff, but I was able to clear it. As I made my way back to the >cabin, all of a sudden my ankle turned underneath me and bent sideways. >I heard it crack. For a moment I wasn�t sure what had happened then I >remembered the holes that playful Grishka had dug in the front yard. >The pain was searing as I tried to stand and fell back to the hard, >frozen earth. I called to Grishka but his puppy mind thought I was >playing with him so he proceeded to leap over me, pulling and tugging at >my jacket, knocking me to a further disadvantage. I yelled at him to >stop. He froze in fear. Head lowered, he cautiously approached me. >Softly I spoke to him and pulled him near me. Bracing my arm over his >body I pulled myself up on my knees. The cabin seemed a long ways away >now and my hands were becoming useless and stiff but I managed to sink >one into Grishka�s thick fur. "Let�s go home," I said sternly. At first >he tried to leap then he stopped and look at me in a heap and I saw the >look change in his face. His master was in trouble. Step by step he >slowly walked toward the cabin as I crawled on my knees holding onto >him. > >The pained ankle was soon overwhelmed as the warmth of the cabin set >upon my frozen hands and face in aching throbs. Miserably I sat in >front of the fire, then remembered the cup of tea that had started all >this. I hobbled over to the sink, "Yes, the water was flowing!" I >stoked the fire and threw on another log for the long night as well I >thought I�d warm up the deer stew that I�d made earlier to revive >myself. The door bolted, the fire ablaze, warm stew in my belly and my >ankle wrapped in a hot towel I fell asleep on a chair in front of the >fire only to be awakened by a low, guttural moan from Grishka. He >moved closer to me and once again I was reminded of his squeamish >behavior earlier in the day. Then I heard something too, twigs breaking >under foot, the soft thumps of someone nearing the cabin. Grishka >jumped up staring at the door. The hair along his back shackled as he >growled fearfully. I too felt my throat tighten and my senses become >alert as I realized this was no human but something large with four >feet. What else could it be but a bear and at this time of year a >Grizzly, attracted by the scent of the meal cooking on the fire. I leapt >to my feet momentarily forgetting about my ankle, immediately falling >to the floor. Crawling to the fire I took a cloth and lifted the pot of >stew from the fire to the hearth. Grunting and panting, the bear began >running circles around the cabin. Jennifer came from the bedroom. >"What is it, Momma? What�s out there?" This was no time for long >explanations, "It�s a bear! Be absolutely quiet!" I said firmly. >Grishka growled defensively. Lord, I thought, That�s all I need. The >bear threw his weight against the wall and clawed at the timbers. I >looked around. The cabin itself was strong but what about the door and >the window? I pushed furniture against them, gritting my teeth to >disregard the pain of my ankle. Jennifer pushed too. With barred door >and window and ax in hand, we retreated to the bedroom where we pushed >the bed against the door and was thankful that in this room the tiny >window was set up high. Bashing his body against the walls, he�d snort, >then run circles again. Grishka tried to growl but Jennifer and I held >his mouth tightly shut as we huddled, terrified and silently prayed. >The bear raged for hours slashing his huge claws on the logs until the >dawn light began to filter through the curtains. Only then did he >finally give up and turn away. It took another half hour before we felt >safe enough to inspect the damage. My mind was convinced that if I >opened those curtains I�d meet the bear face to face, but it wasn�t so. >He�d left the cabin scarred, strips of wood and bark hanging in shreds >from the logs and the snow trodden into a dirt path around the cabin as >huge footprints were set in the icy snow. We were lucky. Jennifer >looked at me leaning against the cabin on one foot. Concerned she asked, >"Mom, remember what day this is?" For a moment I didn�t and then >realized, "Oh honey, it�s Christmas eve�s day!" "Yes," she said, "What >if the bear comes back and Santa�s here?" Oh boy, I thought, how will I >answer this one? I looked to the roof, "Well, I don�t see any bear >marks up there, do you?" She looked and agreed that sure enough the >claw marks were almost to the roof, but the roof was untouched. She >shook her head satisfied, then called to Grishka pointing her finger, >"But you�you�d better stay inside with me!" Grishka followed her with >no objections. > >That evening we sat around our decorated tree. The house was scented in >pine. The forest was quiet, no ravens or bears or pounding storms, just >the crackling of a warm fire and the tinkle of icicles against the >window. Safe and sound with my little family cuddled around me, I >offered thanks to the Creator for all that had been given us and fell >asleep once again in front of the warm glow of the fire. > > >with respect, >Karen RedFox >Watch the clouds, Watch the waves, Watch the flames. >They take you home. They take you to Ain-dah-ing. >http://www.geocities.com/~mystudio > > >______________________________________________________ >Get Your Private, Free Email at http://www.hotmail.com > <<<<=-=-=FREE LEONARD PELTIER=-=-=>>>> If you think you are too small to make a difference; try sleeping in a closed room with a mosquito.... African Proverb <<<<=-=http://www.tdi.net/ishgooda/ =-=>>>> IF it says: "PASS THIS TO EVERYONE YOU KNOW...." Please Check it before you send it at: http://urbanlegends.miningco.com/library/blhoax.htm
