As they headed off on the trail leading away from the point, I turned to Eric and asked, “What gives?”
“I want to go check out your favourite beach.”
“You’ve got to be kidding. What’s there to see other than deadfall and sand?”
“Never can tell. Might be something.”
“Count me out, I’m not going back.”
“Why not?”
“You have to ask?” I searched his face for some hint that he was a joking and realized he really didn’t appreciate how frightened I’d been yesterday. “Forget it, I’m going with John-Joe.”
Before he had a chance to answer, I was running along the path the guys had taken. I stopped when I reached the same clearing as yesterday, with the three diverging trails. John-Joe and friends were nowhere in sight.
Unsure of their direction, I shouted, “John-Joe, wait up.” But the wind overruled any answer.
Close behind me, Eric said, “They’re too far ahead to hear you. If you want, you can try that trail.” He indicated the middle path, which disappeared into a tangle of dense forest. “Or you can come with me.”
I looked into the gloom of the endless trees and quickly decided. “Okay, you win.” I turned to walk back to the point.
“Where’re you going?” Eric asked.
“To your boat. Only way we can get in and out of that place.”
“No need. We can climb out.”
I looked at him in disbelief.
“Trust me,” he said. “If I remember correctly, there’s an old hunter’s track at one end of the beach.”
“And what happens if there’s not?”
“Then we’ll be stuck. Might have to come up with something to pass the time until we’re rescued, eh?” His dimples erupted.
“You can go on the beach. I’m staying on top.” I headed towards the trail I’d taken yesterday. Eric’s chuckles followed behind.
We reached the drop-off in considerably less time than it had taken me the day before. Maybe Eric was no longer a physically fit hockey player, but his walking pace was equivalent to my running. I arrived panting. Eric was barely breathing. Below our feet stretched the narrow beach, split in two by the giant pine. Except for the addition of the dead spruce, the beach looked as desolate and forgotten as it had the day before when I’d stood on this same spot.
“That the tree?” Eric asked.
“Yeah.”
From this height, the spear-like branches that bristled the length of the shattered trunk from the roots to the tip made the tree look even more life-threatening.
“Christ, you were lucky, Meg. That could’ve done serious damage.”
I shivered in response. For a heartbeat, he gripped my shoulder, then he turned and started walking along the top of the cliff. I stood, unable to move. My shoulder tingled.
“Come on, let’s find the spot where the tree fell,” he said.
I shoved back the feeling that was rising unbidden and ran to catch up.
It wasn’t difficult to discover where the tree had clung to the edge of the cliff. But it was impossible to tell whether the dead roots had been forced to release their hold in the thin soil or whether they’d surrendered to the laws of nature.
A search of the adjacent ground revealed no footprints or other clues that would suggest someone had stood there, only the day before, and watched me below.
We retraced our steps to where I’d jumped yesterday. Without another thought, Eric dropped the ten feet to the beach and turned around, hands raised to help me down.
“I told you, I’m not going down there.”
“Meg, trust me, we can climb out at the far end of this beach.”
“How do you know?”
“We used to do it as kids. Considered it one of the tests for becoming a warrior.”
“It’s straight up. I can’t climb that.”
“Meg, you can. Quit the whining and jump down.”
And I jumped, but away from Eric’s waiting arms. The memory of his first touch was too unsettling. I glanced to where I’d seen the footprints yesterday, but they’d merged with the other indentations in the sand.
“Whew, what a smell,” he said as he walked towards the giant pine.
“Yeah, I noticed it yesterday. It’s worse today, coming from that cave over there.” I pointed to the dark opening in the rock wall behind the pine’s tangled root ball.
“Could be an animal den? Bear, maybe wolf?”
“Lover’s cave is more like it,” I replied.
But as if to prove his point, we saw animal tracks spreading out from the cave opening, none clear enough to identify. “Wolf, coyote, possibly lynx” was his calm observation, accompanied by a broad smirk.
With a sudden desire to get this over with, I clambered over the pine and ran to the spruce tree. Eric chuckled. He seemed to be doing a lot of that lately.
I peered through the web of branches bleached smooth by years of harsh weather. Many were broken, but a few were still as pointed and sharp as yesterday.
A strange fluttering object dangling from a branch caught my eye. I bent down to investigate. At that moment, something burst from the tangle. I jumped back and thrust out my arms to ward off another attack. Eric laughed. I looked up in time to see a raven land where I’d seen one yesterday on the twisted crown of the pine. He let out a hoarse guttural croak and ruffled his feathers as if settling in for a long vigil.
“Afraid he might peck your nose?” Eric grinned.
I ignored him and turned back to the object I’d seen.
“Curious,” Eric continued. “I wonder what he’s doing here.”
“Using the facilities.” I pointed to the bird droppings smeared over several branches.
“Don’t joke. The raven is special. My people call him the trickster. Usually, he just causes trouble, but sometimes he can be a messenger from the spirits.” The raven emitted several loud crackles. “What do you think he’s trying to tell us?”
“Maybe he just wants this back.” Though I doubted it belonged to the raven, unless he’d fallen into some bleach. I reached down to pick up a large black and white feather.
“Don’t!” Eric yelled.
My fingers stopped inches from the feather.
“Sorry, but you can’t touch it.”
“Why ever not?” I stared at him in amazement.
“It’s an eagle feather, one of our people’s most sacred objects. I didn’t mean to yell at you like that, but no one can touch it but the owner.”
“The bird?” I was confused.
He glared at me in disgust. “The elder or honoured person it belongs to, who else? You’ll anger the spirits if you touch it.”
“What? Just because I’m white?”
“Meg, you should know better than to say that.”
He placed his hands on the feather, closed his eyes and mumbled. Then he gently picked it up and held it by the tip with the vane pointing skyward.
“Kije manido, the Creator, chose the eagle as the leader because it, of all creatures,