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“Look yonder, Jeb,” Clint cried as a slow mist rose heavenward, revealing an island not far away from where they sat totally terrified. “It’s like the good Lord above placed it there for us to find safety from what might happen next. It seems unto
uched by the earthquake.”
“Let’s go,” Jeb said, already paddling toward it. Reluctantly, Clint began helping him. He recalled having seen this strange mist before and wondering what might be hiding beneath it.
Now that he saw the island, a chill rode his spine. He had the strangest feeling that there was something mystical about how the mist had just suddenly opened up to him and Jeb, revealing an island that they’d had no idea was there.
“Why now?” he whispered to himself.
Then he shrugged.
Surely the earthquake had caused the mist to lift away from the ground. What else could it truly be?
But there was one thing that still troubled him.
He knew that this mist he had seen before was not far from the Winnebago village.
“I don’t think we should go there,” Clint suddenly said, lifting his paddle from the water. “Come on, Jeb. Let’s get the boat turned around and hightail it outta here while we have the chance. I don’t trust what’s happened here today. None of it. Maybe those Winnebago Injuns have strange mystical powers white people don’t.”
“Clint, stop your whinin’ and remember what we just went through,” Jeb grumbled. “If the earthquake happens again and we’re still in the river, we’re doomed. Do you hear? Doomed.”
“I just don’t know,” Clint said.
“Put that damn paddle back in the water and row, damn it,” Jeb snarled. He gave Clint a look that went right through him. “Let’s get on dry land. I’ll feel way safer there than on the water. Another earthquake could capsize our boat quicker than you can blink your eyes.”
“Oh, alright,” Clint said, sliding his paddle back into the water and taking up the same rhythm as Jeb.
“Everything is too quiet,” Jeb said, looking cautiously at the island as they got closer to it. “I hear no birds singing. Nothin’. It’s like everything is dead.”
“Just like we’ll be if we stay in this water for much longer,” Jeb said.
He leapt from the boat when he realized that he could stand on the bottom of the river, and grunted as he began dragging the boat closer to shore.
“Get outta there and lend me a hand, Clint,” Jeb snapped. “Now. Do you hear? Now!”
Clint looked guardedly past Jeb, at the thick vegetation of the island. He recognized a clump of wolf willows, which he had never known existed until they had come to this part of Minnesota.
Yep, he knew for certain that he and Jeb were much too close to Injun territory, for he had seen wolf willows before when they were trying to escape through the forest. He now associated those trees with the Winnebago, and…trouble!
Finally onshore, both Jeb and Clint hauled the boat up on a rock that would keep it from floating away.
“This certainly ain’t what I figured we’d be doin’ about now,” Clint growled out as he stood with Jeb, gazing with troubled eyes toward the thickness of the trees that lay before them.
“Bein’ here is askin’ for trouble.” Clint grumbled. “ We’re the same as givin’ the Injuns an invite to come and take us back to their village. I’ve heard it said that they tie their prisoners to stakes, even light fires and let their captives die slowly in the flames.”
“Just shut up, Clint,” Jeb said. “We have no choice but to seek shelter here for a while. Once we know the river is safe to travel on, we’ll leave. Then we’ll find a good place to hide. The Injuns won’t know the difference.”
“We should’ve hid the boat,” Clint said, looking over his shoulder toward where they had left the boat beached. “That’s all we need…Injuns seein’ the boat. They’ll find us. For sure they’ll find us.”
Jeb stopped dead in his tracks. “You’re right,” he suddenly said. “It seems there is no more threat of an earthquake.” He looked slowly around him. “See how things seem to have calmed? Even the birds are singing again.”
“Then let’s get the hell outta here,” Clint said. “I don’t know what we were thinkin’. Even before we beached the canoe, the water had become calm. Hurry. Let’s get back to the boat, go to the fort, and get the hell away from this spooky place.”
They broke into a mad run and soon reached the boat. Panting hard, they shoved it back in the water.
They boarded it, grabbed up the paddles, and huffing and puffing hard, they rowed as quickly as possible toward the pile of rocks that marked the fort.
They could almost feel the plushness of the furs against their fingers.
