Chapter Five
By Jim Farrell
A new day bringing rain and a new life dawned for Brother Bill. His first need was to get something to wear, so off he went into the forest in search of appropriate apparel. Being 2 feet 12 inches tall, one wouldn’t have much trouble finding something to wear, but if you really think about it, winter was coming on; it would be rainy and cold with a bit of snow. So there was Brother Bill’s dilemma. He could take the bark of a cedar tree and weave it into something to cover himself, but that wouldn’t due for the bitter cold of the winter, so he decided to first make himself a cedar outfit, cause that would only take a little while, in order to cover his stature of 2 feet 12 inches, it wouldn’t take that many strips of cedar bark.
Once under a huge cedar tree, he found him a dry, comfortable bed of old cedar needles and all the bark he needed to weave his new clothes. It didn’t take too long to finish that little project. For he had learned from She-Who-Hits-Head-On-Branches, the best way to make an outfit with a tight weave to keep the rain out. After he finished a long shirt that went to his knees to cover himself, he fashioned a conical hat that he knew would keep the rain and snow off him.
Now to finish this outfit he knew that he would need a coat to keep him warm and that may present him with a slight problem. To find something that would keep him that warm could only come some animal that had its winter fur coat. He also had to find something that wasn’t too big, like a bear, because the only bear whose coat would fit him was a bear cub. And anyone knows that the problem with a cub would not be the cub, but her mother. If there was one lesson that anyone 2 feet 12 inches tall should have known is that you don’t mess with anyone’s mother.
But that day Brother Bill was a little excited when he saw a brown colored bear cub lumber over to the huckleberry patch across a little stream that meandered through the small clearing. Not paying too much attention to what was going around him; he began to slink up on the grizzly bear cub until he was about ten feet away. He began to fix his gaze on the eyes of that little cub, when all of a sudden like, he felt something grab him by the part he sits on and quickly pulled him away from that cub!
Frantically he squirmed around to see that the old she bear had a hold of him in a most uncompromising manner. He wriggled and squirmed until he could get a quick gaze at her and was able to yell at her in a way that surprised that old grizzly, and she opened her month to protest, causing her to drop him hard into the creek. When Brother Bill climbed out of the cold water, with water dripping off his new cedar duds, he looked for the brown grizzly and saw her and her cub, lumbering away up into a forest trail with a look of total disdain on that old sows face.
Well, that left Brother Bill with still the problem of where to find a new coat. He did learn that he won’t be trying to talk to bears anytime soon, in fact, he decided to steer clear of them entirely, especially the ones that might have a mother lurking about. Now, as he was walking up another trail (of course he choose one that the bears weren’t using) and as the trail twisted and turned around another huge spruce tree, when a strange musky odor assailed his nose and in the sprinting down the middle of that path was a huge feisty wolverine.
Not only did the wolverine surprise Brother Bill, but he surprised the near sighted irritable wolverine also. One would wonder what a forty pound wolverine was doing out of the Alaska arctic, but that big valley had many strange animals in it that had gotten caught up in the big wind and managed to somehow get off its tremendous currents . A quick thought came to Brother Bill and quick as a wink, for a wolverine is known far and wide for its swiftness, Brother Bill fixed his gaze upon that weasel. Now, not many wolverines have ever seen a man 2 foot 12 inches tall with square glasses gazing at them like Brother Bill was doing and it scared that wolverine so much that he stopped and took off so fast in the other direction that he left his skin behind him lying on the trail where Brother Bill could just pick it up and put it on. Which he did without any hesitation.
Now was the time for Brother Bill try and find his way out of that huge valley with the steep walls. He had clothes, a coat and a full belly. What more could he ever need, except a way to get out of that long forgotten valley. Those cliffs presented what seemed an insurmountable challenge to Brother Bill. What chance would a young man of his stature have when men ten feet tall haven’t figured a way to climb out?
As he walked out of the tall spruce forest he found another clearing and low and behold across the green meadow covered in salal-brush, moss and a few scrawny huckleberry bushes, was a golden cougar cleaning his posterior as only a cat can clean. Even though that cougar just looked like a house cat cleaning himself, fear immediately seized Brother Bills heart because no one in that valley had ever challenged or talked to a cougar before let alone anyone 2 feet 12 inches tall who would only make an appetizer at best. Brother Bill began to turn and quietly slink away, but then as he was turning, he happened to glance one more time at that feline, huge tears were rolling down its fuzzy cheeks, and dropping silently from his long graying whiskers forming a small lake beside him.
As Brother Bill gazed at that old cougar that elderly cougar raised his tear wet eyes and met Brother Bills. In that fleeting second Brother Bill felt the pain that was flowing through that aged cougar. That second was all that was needed for the two of them to start to communicate in the way that only friends who have known each other for years normally can. All fear evaporated from Brother Bill and he felt himself drawn to that old-timer. Brother Bill walked over to that suffering creature and they began to talk.
As it turned out the cougar had just lost his mate of many years and all their kittens had grown found their own mates and left home and moved away so far that they couldn’t even come to visit, so he had no one around him to love, leaving him feeling lonely. As he was cleaning himself, he had begun to feel sorry for himself and that was when Brother Bill had chanced upon him in that compromising posture of cleaning his furry behind. That ageing cougar had reached a point that he just couldn’t figure out what to do with himself and was missing his family. He knew that he must have grand kittens by now, but he had never seen them.
It was then that Brother Bill came upon a grand idea! Why didn’t Clyde (he decided to call the old cat, Clyde) climb out of that canyon and go visit his grown kittens and any kittens that they may have by now? Everyone knows that cats are the most surefooted creatures in the whole wide world, so what would be the problem of climbing out of that forlorn canyon and going for a little visit with his kittens? Ya might think that Brother Bill was just thinking of that big feline, but there was a glimmer of hope that he may if the huge cat was willing, he might let Brother Bill ride on his back and get out of that canyon and go visit Mother and let her know that he was doing well in life (we always called her Mother).
Brother Bill didn’t see any problem with that because he was only 2 feet 12 inches tall and didn’t weigh that much even when he was soaking wet, which he often was because the glasses that he had been given that Ben Franklin lost would get dirty and he couldn’t see well out of them and there were a lot of creeks to fall into. Well, he proposed his wild idea to Clyde and lo and behold, Clyde readily agreed, thankful that he had found a friend. That Cougar’s tears dried up leaving lake behind for the (name of tribe here) and misfortunate critters who had come by that forlorn canyon to use.
So up those steep canyon walls, went Clyde with Brother Bill hanging on to the matted fur around Clyde’s neck for all he was worth. The climb up those walls taxed every muscle that Clyde possessed and a few he had forgotten he had. Up those walls they went to the very top where they broke over to see a vast forest of Spruce, Douglas fir and the brightly colored leaves of Maple and Alder trees with fog shrouding the outline of what he later learned was called the Strait of Georgia.
As Brother Bill got off Clyde they found an old deer path meandering down the mountain side. With joy and a commitment to their new lives they took off down that trail and came to a pond made by the beavers as they dammed up a little stream. A busy family of beavers in the middle of that pond was working putting the last touches to their home before winter sat in. All it took was one of them to see Ol’ Clyde and tails allover that pond began to slap the water to tell each other of the danger that they felt from the presence of Clyde. But Brother Bill wanted to talk to someone about where Clyde’s family may have gone, so quick as a blink of his eyes through those glasses of Ben Franklin’s Brother Bill tried to catch the eyes of the oldest beaver there and freeze him before he could escape. But to no avail. That old beaver slapped his tail and dove into that pool of water leaving Brother Bill with no choice but to dive after him into that cool, cold water or not get the information that he so wanted for Clyde.
Now, Brother Bill could have just left Clyde there and continued on his way, but Mother (we always called her Mother) taught him to repay your debts from friends no matter what the cost. Well, Brother Bill found a stinging nettle to strip the fibers from and make a long string to tie the glasses that Ben Franklin had lost during the lightning storm, on to his head so they wouldn’t fall off. Brother Bill then shinnied out of his cedar clothes, took a deep breath and dove into the frigid waters. Now you may think Brother Bill a little daft, but you gotta keep in mind that Brother Bill was only 2 foot 12 inches tall and following that frightened beaver family all the way into their house would pose no problem for him. And follow them he did.
Up he popped through the tunnel under their house and as quick as you could think or even blink, he surprised that furry family as they were all chatting about the close call they had with that terrible cougar. And wouldn’t you know it; Brother Bill fixed his gaze onto that old beaver’s eyes then and there. And wouldn’t you know it, after they got over the fantastic surprise of seeing Brother Bill’s head with Ben Franklin’s gasses on it, poking through the tunnel into their home, that beaver family took no time at all to make friends with Brother Bill. Well, wouldn’t you know it, Ol’ Bucky (that’s what the beavers called the old beaver) had fallen a cottonwood tree upstream from the beaver dam the year before and had seen a family of cougars slink out of the woods headed toward the beach. And wouldn’t you know it; had overheard them talking about going across the big salty pond to a place called the Olympic Mountains on the Olympic Peninsula and how sad it was to leave Grandpa behind in the valley.
Brother Bill said his goodbye’s to the beaver family and dove back into that muddy tunnel and swam back through that cold, frigid pond to where he had left Ol’ Clyde and told him of his conversation with the chatty, furry, wood eating family.
Clyde was so happy that off he ran, well, as fast as an old cougar can run, which isn’t that fast as any old cougar can tell you, with Brother Bill close behind. They followed that deer trail down to a rocky beach covered with driftwood that had been washed onto it from years of storms. Much to Brother Bill’s utter surprise, there washed up on the beach was a dugout cedar canoe that somehow had gotten away from the (Indian tribe from east coast of Vancouver Island).
It didn’t take but a few moments for Brother Bill and Clyde to run down to the beach and try to climb into the canoe. That canoe was jammed hard amongst a cluster of granite boulders and sand holding it tight and stranded high above the water line where an early fall storm had carelessly flung it. Running clumsily through the loose sand they scrambled up to the canoe, and looking into it they found a paddle, a seal skin filled with water and a woven cedar basket filled with dried salmon, oysters and dried berries. What more could they want or need to reach the mainland except to get that confounded canoe into the water.
Well, Brother Bill pushed and pushed and pushed again, but that canoe would not, could not move. Brother Bill then took the long rope of woven cedar bark that they had found in a cedar box that the (insert Indian tribe here) used for a seat and tied tired Ol’ Clyde to that ensnared boat and with Clyde pulling and Brother Bill pushing, all that forlorn vessel did was remain hopelessly unmoved. Again they tried and pulling and pushing and pushing and pulling and a lot more pushing, it would not move.
By now the fog had lifted and the sun began to warm their tired bodies and the tears began to roll down Ol’ Clyde’s face as he sat there on his haunches as cats will do and cried some more because after all the work and hoping that he would soon see his family, it didn’t look like it was going to happen. Well, that Ol’ cat cried so hard that all around him the water began to rise and rise. And it rose even higher. It rose so high that the storm stuck canoe floated up off the boulders and would have floated away if Brother Bill hadn’t jumped into it and paddled it over to where Clyde was crying his rivers of tears. In a flash, the tears dried up and Clyde jumped off the bolder he was crying on and into the canoe he went. And the two of them began to paddle out into the Strait of Georgia, each with a different purpose in mind. Brother Bill to go home to Mother (we always called her Mother) and Clyde to find his kittens and grand kittens.