(COLD/Posting #9)
The first full-out wolf attack. More excerpts from my book COLD: <https://www.amazon.com/dp/B076VBJB62>
COLD gets TOP-100 rating (during free promotion), #20 in “War Fiction”/amazon. Thanks to you substackers/fb & tweeters, for enjoying the narrative flow of chapters I’m supplying! <https://www.amazon.com/dp/B076VBJB62>.
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While Ewald is busy foraging for food while depleting his dumpling supply, and after his family reminiscing from early childhood in Stuttgart, the wolves again find his tent.
(COLD/Posting #9)
When else in my life had I felt such happiness? A relief equal to this morning’s magnitude? Another childhood memory jumped to mind. Once, around thirteen, I had heard a funny commotion in the living room. It was my father and mother, both smiling broadly. They were listening to a record by Straus and enthusiastically commenting on its various aspects. It seemed that the composer had raised quite a stir and my parents had prided themselves on understanding and appreciating its attributes My brothers, younger sister and I were unused to seeing our parents acting so giddy. We took the lead and danced about, acting like drunken sailors a bit, until they finally hushed us. That was about as emotional a moment as our family had ever experienced together, and for some reason their deliriousness, and the Straus Salomé music, had surprisingly replicated the delight I felt that morning in the forest. So I used the memory of that rare happy mood to make a speedy departure.
I admit I was more prone to skip along.
How many kilometers did I have to go to reach home in Germany?
Still 5000?
Suddenly a Nanra-warning jumped to the forefront of my mind, interrupted my jaunty cadence: If terribly happy, be cautious. If strangely energized, watch out for doing too many kilometers. If tired, cut back, do less, until normal energy returns. So I slowed down, walked more carefully as I passed the wide- eyed knots of birches. Many eyes watching me. Nanra's eyes too. She might be scrutinizing my motion, analyzing how well I was remaining in control, with her super sensory powers. I didn’t doubt her psychic reach.
No wolves in sight.
The flurry of footprints that I had seen all around my campsite that morning made me acknowledge that soon I would actually have to fight wolves. And there were instructions for battling such animals in the open. Nanra had been very specific as usual. So I ran those rules back to myself while they were on my mind:
1. Back up to a wall or thick tree, if available. That cuts off one direction of attack.
2. Wrap wax-soaked rags (she had give me some) around my walking stick and quickly light it as a torch. Fend off animals that way.
Mulling over this last rule, I quickly gave it a try. I extracted the waxy rags from my coat pocket and tied them to my walking stick. When I saw that they could easily slip off – knocking at wolves would definitely throw them off – I notched a groove about five inches from the end for better attachment. And I made sure my flint and fire-starter materials (the thin strands of dry-grass) were handy for a fast burn. Only after this short test did I continue with the list.
Protect your neck and throat. Wolves will try to bite you there first.
Protect your legs. They will bite low to bring you down.
Use sticks to fight. You will need to hit wolves hard in the head or neck.
Use the eyes in the back of your head. There will always be a wolf trying to attack from behind.
Kill every wolf. Don’t trust the wounded ones.
I think she added number seven just so I would visualize actually killing all the wolves in an attack. Thank you Wife, for your attempt to deceive your husband. I would certainly try to kill them all, before they killed the father of your unborn child.
By mid-day I had defrosted my eighth dumpling and devoured it. Never had food tasted so good. I could feel the extra strength coursing through my veins. That rush of energy reminded me that I must try extra hard to drill for food. Each hour or so after that (an approximation in time-counting, of course) I drilled a new hole, hoping for a turnip root. Finally, sometime in the afternoon, I struck something that looked promising. When I extracted the drill bit from the frozen ground there was a core of dark-banded root stuck on the bit. Because Nanra hadn't listed something fitting that particular description as ‘edible’ I decided not to risk my life with a unidentified vegetation. I kept walking on and continued to drill every so often.
As the day progressed, my mind wandered back to wolves. Nanra had explained how smart they were. So I imagined the entire attack through their eyes. They had discovered a foreign object – my tent – erected in their territory. What had they thought? Did they suspect that it was a man-made structure? Did they detect food inside? Could they smell my human scent before I opened up the stink-bottle? How long had they surveyed the strange pyramid-shaped tent with the stinking smoke? Did they have the faculties to re-examine an experience?
Maybe later they wondered why they didn't just dive at the tent, disrupt things, to make sure no human meal existed there. That's how they could have grown a thought. Nanra said that as a species they did learn fast from experiences. That might mean that next time I met them, if they were the same wolves, the old ‘stink’ trick wouldn't be effective anymore. The only trouble was, I had no other tricks....only bullets and clubs.
Deeper into the forest, I watched the sunlight filter through branches. The dark eyes of birch continued to follow my progress, haunting my journey. A few hours later, when I felt myself losing concentration, I ate half of dumpling number nine. Food was going fast. I had to find some new sources. I drilled maybe five holes in the next hours before darkness, but found nothing. Now it was a contest between me and the wolves. Which of us would starve to death first? By evening I had covered some good distance, but was tired. Certainly the wolf attack had taken energy away from my next few days of traveling. I needed to catch up on my sleep. So I pulled to a halt a little early (Nanra would have supported this decision...), and set up camp. My last drill-hole, the one for my tent-pole, suddenly hit some turnip root. Success! I would eat a little bit and save the rest for the next day. That root and my 4 1/2 dumplings were now my entire food supply. But how positive I felt! I would hopefully keep on finding good roots.
Light faded out fast that night. Only nine days since I’d left the warmth of Nanra’s cabin. Hard to believe. Already so much had happened! Strangely though, while she still seemed like a fresh memory she also seemed like a distant part of my life. Like someone I used to know. It must have been all the frigid fresh air I was sucking in...that was freezing out normal thoughts. It wasn’t even a week and a half that I’d been out on the tundra and already my memories were on the wane. I was losing the freshness of my marriage. And while it wasn't a marriage conducted by a normal minister, Nanra had administered it in enough of a believable fashion that I had no doubt as to its validity. We had both signed our names together on a piece of parchment that she had decorated herself, painting in lovely flowers and vines to encircle our words of commitment. That hand-made document, with the date ‘February 10, 1918,’ had cemented our lives together just as completely as any church service could have ever done. We had then watched the flames as the parchment burnt to a crisp in the fireplace. That kind of evidence – proof of a German man and Russian woman’s cohabitation – would have gotten everyone killed.
Still hurrying with my tent setup, always trying to better the 90-second minimum, I enjoyed a head start. I could use my already-drilled turnip hole for the walking-stick tent placement. So I timed myself as usual, making sure that I could assemble my night protection in a speedy-enough way to beat any wolf attack. As I threw over the tarp and quickly pounded in tent pegs I looked around in all directions for potential animals roaming between the trees. Nothing. I realized that from then on I would need to adjust my completion- time while in the forest. I barely had enough light to survey the landscape for wolves before I got inside and started my fire.
10.
Day ten began with falling snow. Winter wasn't ready to give up. I cut my tenth notch in the stick while still inside the tent, and peered out to monitor the extent of the new snowpack. It was a beautiful sight as the snow gathered along the many verticals of birch trees. White trees everywhere. I packed up, crawled outside after viewing the landscape front and rear, pulled up the pegs, wrapped my tarp so it would drag, and ate the 1/2 dumpling that I had defrosted earlier.
Four left. My energy was flagging and I worried that I was starving myself. Nanra would have suggested I eat more. It's your tenth day, so good job. You must celebrate this milestone!
My mind, operating as hers, continued. To celebrate, and to improve your thinking as well as your energy for walking, I want you to eat better. So put two dumplings near your skin today and have a good lunch. And work harder to find your own food source.
What I was telling myself, as Nanra, was that I needed to shift myself into another gear, just as if I was a gas automobile. I was using up too much fuel now and would soon feel the depletion. My thinking would become faulty. And my body would start to weaken. God knows, I was used to the cold through the years in the camp. And, in fact, I had never been so well clothed as I was now, protected against the elements by Nanra's well-supplied coat and gloves. I even had a furry hood soft against my head, instead of something stiff and hard. I was in luxury. But my memory was playing tricks on me. I strained to remember how she looked. What color was her hair (brown...). What color eyes...(blue. Definitely blue). Of course I could still see her outline in my mind. But things were getting foggy. Although thoughts of her and the cabin made time move better as I walked along, I realized I must snap myself back to the present and do my various jobs, such as finding food and watching for wolves. So I did.
About two hours later, walking through trees in the late afternoon (the snow had stopped), I saw some movement far up ahead. It was animals, some kind of four-legged creatures that jumped through the gaps in trees. Maybe deer, or elk? They disappeared and I wondered if I had really seen anything at all. I spun around to check for wolves. If there was one animal around I figured that maybe wolves were also nearby. I primed myself for performing a quick tent setup. And I ate my first of two dumplings. I made a mental note to drill more turnip holes after chewing. It was just after a surge of dumpling energy, maybe a half-hour later, that I needed all my strength to race a pack of wolves suddenly heading in my direction.
Oh God!
Those were the words that jumped out of my mouth as I sprung into action.
Yes, I saw them, and that startled me.
Dark-eyed knotholes and fast-moving predators! Immediately I pulled out my drill and spun the handle to cut a hole in the ground. And, strangely enough, I hit a turnip root. But there was no time to deal with it. Several blurs of short- to-the-ground creatures running about between far off trees made me speed up.
I jammed in my walking stick and ripped the tarp out of the pack, spun it out with a flurry and centered it over the stick. Then, with hatchet in hand, I quickly pounded in the pegs all around. It may have been one of the sloppiest jobs I’d done so far, but jumping inside the tent I placed my tin fire-platform out of the way while I pushed the fresh snow up into the gaps. With fast lacing, the tent was sealed.
I opened the stink-jar and plugged my nose. Then I positioned the tin and stared a fire. Suddenly there were wolves howling outside. I huddled closer to the stick, fanned the flames then cracked open the flaps a tiny bit, just enough to let the white smoke out. Now the wolves would have to wonder what was going on. The smoke carried the stink out past the laces.
I removed my gun and waited.
So this was it.
Nanra's words were on my mind. Wait, she had said. Wait until you absolutely have to use the gun!
I was intensely aware of the enemies. One of them was barking. Another wolf joined in. I continued to check behind, then in front, then staring at inside surfaces of the tarp, looking for paws or snouts against it.
Suddenly, at ground-level, I was shocked to see an actual wolf paw coming in from under the tarp to the left of the doorway. I grabbed my hammer out of the supplies and struck hard. I heard the loud yelp as the foot withdrew.
Other howls started up on all sides. What next? Had I telegraphed that a human was inside the pointed-looking structure? When the wolf- brains saw that crushed paw did it tell them that an intelligent being – something edible – lay within? Would they decide to charge? Or had that hammered foot scared them? My senses were on high alert. I waited, tensed up for a fight. But silence soon overtook the campsite.
I didn’t hear them leaving, but I still strained to listen. I peered out of my peepholes cautiously, seeing nothing but snow and trees out the back of the tent. In that little bit of afternoon light I felt only temporarily relieved. Nanra had cautioned me about how exceptionally crafty wolves can be. So I didn't immediately rush through the laced doorway and shout victory. They could be laying in wait. Nanra said they could be patient. Very patient.
I tried to imagine these wolves with human characteristics. Maybe the pack was huddled out of view and earshot, whispering among themselves, discussing their next move. They might be considering a full-out attack against the flimsy tarp materials. Or maybe they had figured that if they could kick snow over the opening in the laces where the smoke exited, they could smoke me out. But, of course, wolves (probably) didn't have the actual brain-power to go that far in their reasoning. Had it been a human enemy I would surely have been defeated by now. Thank god that wasn’t the case.
I added a little fuel to the fire, watching and checking the amount of remaining waxy grass (still had a good bunch left). I felt warmer with the added glow, but was conscious of using up that resource. After that, I heard no more barks or growls. Maybe they were now kilometers away, nursing the wounded member of the pack. But still, I did not emerge from my hiding place.
Darkness was falling. It was minutes from the blackness of a frigid night. No moon. I glanced again through the peepholes and saw no animals were next to me at least. I breathed in and out three times as Nanra had instructed, while keeping my eyes closed. And the final time that I expelled my breath I silently said, Relax, relax, relax. I then followed her advice for asking the universe for another day of life, and thanking her (or him...Nanra said I could choose), mother earth or father earth, for the gift of life.
11.
The morning light came up on my eleventh day. I had two dumplings left. It was soon time to check that the wolves had vacated. As I carefully edged out my tent door I remembered some other things Nanra had said about the creatures that stalked me. She reminded me that while I fought to keep myself alive from the carnivores, the wolf, in general, was fighting to feed his family. So are you any better than a wolf? she’d asked. For my answer I had to say, No. Value judgments aside, anyone would rather live then be eaten. I had to base my survival on outsmarting animals that had mostly their unselfish family interests at heart.
I must admit I got a little sick to my stomach when I saw all the wolf footprints in the snow around my tent. They had moved on...but how far? I packed the tarp carefully for future instant-unfurling and pegging, and kept my drill and bit handy. For a quick attack I would need to break all my past records for setting up protection.
Moving a dumpling to my front pocket for defrosting (only one left!), I re-started my journey, walking south through trees maybe one hundred feet tall, white birches with the dark eyed knotholes. The weather was clear, but I could see a front of clouds moving in fast. A big storm was imminent. As I progressed through the forest, I tried to factor in the extra energy it took to go around obstacles, ducking this way and that to avoid trunks and branches. Still, I made good progress.
(To be continues…).
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For those who like to hold an actual book in their hands: <https://www.amazon.com/1918-19-Siberian-Escape-Captain-Loeffler-ebook/dp/B076VBJB62>.
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