Chapter 2

Thinking back on it, he probably shouldn’t have threatened them, but he didn’t care any more. He would make them sincerely regret it if they caught him before he’d truly gotten away. He knew that after he got across the highway and into the wilds that the chances of finding him were remote at best. But he had many miles of careful travel between here and there.

Skirting around the most populated areas of town, he made it to his stores at almost sunset. He hurriedly grabbed everything he had down there, and stuffed his unneeded school bag under the bridge, wedging it between two of the wooden beams above his head. Pausing to change his shoes from the loafers his parents made him wear everyday to a rather nice pair of leather boots, he was on his way within 10 minutes. He followed his originally planned route for almost 3 hours, walking along the bank of the river, stopping only when he thought that he was far enough away to risk a campsite for the night. Finding a deep valley choked with spruce trees, Jonathan made his way away from the river. He wanted to be deep in the valley, and out of sight from overhead before he stopped for the night. He pitched a meager camp that night, just his bedroll laid on the ground. He didn’t feel safe lighting a fire this close to civilization, so he went without. He also wanted to get an early start in the morning, so he didn’t pitch his small tent. Pulling out some cheese and store bought beef jerky, he munched on his meager dinner thinking about his journey.

It was forty-five miles from Boise to Placerville as the crow flew, and that would be more or less the way Jonathan would go. He figured that it would take him about 5 days to walk that, since he would be walking over fairly rough terrain, and would have to be avoiding people as he went. From there, fifteen miles to the highway crossing, then he would be fairly safe. Figuring ten miles a day, he would be deep in the park by the time he had to stop for winter.

A month. He realized that he needed to be relatively settled somewhere by the middle of June, which would give him about five weeks to travel about 200 miles and find a good, sheltered place for a winter camp. Idaho winters being what they were, he thought that a good cave would be the best bet. The only problem would be if there was an avalanche that buried the entrance, but he figured that if he could find one that had more than one entrance it would be fine. Water wouldn’t be a problem over the winter, but a stream nearby would let him fish and get water until it froze over. He would also need to hunt some fur bearing animals, and maybe even an elk or bear for the pelt.

A bear. He thought about it, and that was one of the most perfect animals for wilderness survival that there was. The fat could be dried and eaten for the vitamins that you could only get from fat, as well as the meat. The hide was warm and tough, and would make a good coat and pair of pants. There were other parts of a bear that would be useful as well. The stomach would make a very large water skin, and the tendons and ligaments would make a great bowstring once they were dried. He also remembered something from one of the books he read about elk. Elk would have a lot of the same things that the bear would, and its hide was one of the best materials to make moccasins. Jonathan knew that his current clothes wouldn’t last him through the winter, and the material for clothes would be only what he could find or kill in the wilds.

He would also need a good supply of firewood, tinder, and kindling for fires. He didn’t think that it would be a great problem, just a lot of work. Between food, clothes, water, and a good shelter, he should be able to live out the winter relatively comfortably. But he had a long way to go before then, and plenty of time to worry about those things later.

He put his brick of cheese and bag of beef jerky into his pack, and curled up in his sleeping bag. As he looked through the overhanging boughs, he was surprised to see the Northern Lights flashing in the northern sky. It was somewhat odd to see them so early in the summer, and he took it to be a good omen for things to come. He had eaten his first meal as a free man, and he liked it. There was no nagging, no yelling, and none of his parents’ usual lectures about him not doing what they wanted in school. For Jonathan, it was the best night of his entire life. He sighed in contentment, and drifted off to sleep under the pale light of the Aurora Borealis.

Rising before dawn, Jonathan quickly broke down his camp and crept back toward the river. Making his way to the northeast, he silently moved along in the predawn light back toward town. The river was too deep to cross here, so he had to risk using a bridge to get across. After about an hour, he finally came upon a bridge, and made his way across the river. He moved down off the road and turned back the way he had come to follow the river back out of town. Just as he was getting near the riverbank, he heard a car screech to a stop behind him.

“Jonathan, stop right there!”

Turning and looking over his shoulder, he saw his father starting to run toward him from the middle of the bridge. Forgetting all pretense of stealth, Jonathan broke into a sprint, desperate to reach the trees before his father could catch him. His only hope was to get to the trees and find someplace to hide. Ducking and dodging in the surprisingly thick cover, he desperately searched for a place to hide. Jumping over an old log, he saw a fir tree that would be perfect. Almost 10 feet across, its branches dropped all the way to the ground and were surprisingly thick. He scrambled under the low branches, and got as close to the trunk of the tree that he could.

It would seem that his haste was well warranted, for only a few seconds after he got under the tree, his father came over the same log Jonathan had jumped over seconds before. Jonathan froze, not even breathing, in an effort for his father to miss his hiding place. His father slowed to a stop, and slowly looked around. “I know you’re here,” his father suddenly said, “I can hear that you’ve stopped running. Come out now, and I promise that I won’t kill you.”

Yeah, right. Jonathan thought. He knew better than to say anything that would give his position away. As his father walked a step or two closer to his hiding spot, Jonathan realized that he might have to fight his way free. He inched his hand to his knife—his wonderful, beautiful knife that Mrs. Phillips had given him that last day in the library. He had almost gotten it free of the sheath on his belt when he heard a sound coming from the bushes to his left.

“There you are you little bastard,” he heard his father say as he started walking quickly toward the sound.

What’s over there? Jonathan thought as he watched his father walking away from his tree. It sounded like something was running through the brush, and from the amount of noise that it was making, it sounded like it was big. I don’t care what it is, as long as it drives him away.

What it was became quite apparent, as his father got closer to the edge of the bushes. His father stopped in his tracks, staring at a grizzly bear that must have been 5 feet tall at its front shoulders. Rising up on its back legs, the 12 foot tall monster let loose a blood curdling roar, then dropped back down and charged Jonathan’s father. His father panicked and started to run away from the rampaging bear back to his truck still parked on the bridge. Jonathan had read some about bears, and the grizzly bear in general, and knew it was fruitless to run. A grizzly bear could run almost 45 miles per hour on open ground, and even in the forest it would have no trouble running his father down. But his father didn’t know that little fact.

Within seconds, the bear was upon his father. Rearing a massive paw back, the bear struck his father across the back, sending four trails of blood arcing away from him. Shouting in pain, his father still tried to run away, and the bear kept beating him across the back. Though, as Jonathan watched, he noticed that there was no more blood. It was like the bear was pushing his father, and not mauling him any more. That was odd.

Why would the bear do that? It’s almost like he’s just trying to drive him away from this area, not kill him.

Regardless of the why of the event, the bear kept driving his father away from the thicket. Jonathan realized that by some miracle, he had his chance to escape. As soon as the bear and his father were out of sight, Jonathan crawled out from under his tree and started running the other way. Stumbling and tripping over roots and fallen leaves, Jonathan ran through the woods for many hours. His only thought was to put as much distance between him and his father as possible before he couldn’t go any farther. Finally succumbing to exhaustion, he fell over one last time and couldn’t rise again. He had run for miles without stopping, exhausting himself to the point that he could hardly move. He was scratched and bruised, but he had no permanent injuries that he could tell. Bleary-eyed, he managed to get his sleeping bag out of his backpack, and wrapped it around him to keep him warm during the night. Just as the sun was setting behind the western horizon, Jonathan fell into a deep, weary sleep.

Birds were chirping and the sun was already well above the tree line when Jonathan awoke the next morning. He had completely exhausted himself the day before, covering nearly 20 miles of uninhabited land before collapsing. Groaning, he opened his eyes and started to sit up. He was still tired, despite sleeping in the same position all night long, and it took him a few moments to get his bearings.

Where am… oh yeah, I remember now. Damn I’m sore… His thoughts trailed off as he took a look around his chosen campsite. It was in a very small clearing in the forest, not more than ten feet across. He laid where he’d fallen the night before, and his back and neck was sore from where his backpack had rested. He peered through the branches around him, and mentally took stock of his surroundings. The sun was above the trees, which meant that it was late morning, and the air was crisp with the slight altitude.

Checking behind him, he was immediately fully awake. Not 3 feet from him was another grizzly bear gazing at him quite calmly. Jonathan jumped away from the bear and backed away quickly. The bear, seeing his fear, simply lay there gazing at Jonathan. As Jonathan looked at the bear, he saw a familiar scar running across its snout, and realized with some consternation that it was the same bear that had attacked his father the morning before. It must have snuck up on me while I was sleeping. But, if it was going to attack me, I think it would have done it already.

As if reading his mind, the bear stood up and very slowly padded over to where Jonathan stood. Jonathan froze, knowing that if the bear was going to kill him that running wouldn’t do anything other than make the bear chase him, and he would have no chance of out running it. If I die, I will die like a man, and face my death with honor. Drawing himself up to his full height, Jonathan faced what he was sure was certain death padding toward him. However, death would not claim him that day, because as soon as the bear reached him, it lowered its head and started to nuzzle his hand. Jonathan was surprised. He had expected many things, from being growled at to a simple paw swipe to the throat, but never did he expect this. The bear seemed to want him to pet it! Jonathan tentatively reached down and stroked the top of the bear’s head. The bear lifted its head, and simply let Jonathan pet it. Suddenly, the bear lifted its head and licked Jonathan’s face, coating him from chin to forehead in slobber. Jonathan sputtered and looked at the bear, which simply nuzzled him again. It’s playing with me! Jonathan thought.

“Well, my friend, I can see you aren’t going to hurt me,” Jonathan said to the bear. “Are you going to come with me then, or are you going to go on by yourself?” Not expecting an answer, Jonathan was quite surprised when the bear merely dipped its head down and back up, looking much like a nod. “Well, in that case, would it be alright if I gave you a name?” Again, the bear gave the same nod-like movement. Looking at the bear, he noticed that unlike any bear that he’d ever seen, this one had gray eyes. Since it appeared to be a female bear as well, he said, “Well, your eyes remind me of the nurse that I had in the hospital months ago, so I think I’ll call you Hope. What do you think?” For its answer, the bear nuzzled Jonathan again, who laughed and petted it some more.

After a simple breakfast of water and a bit of bread, Jonathan set out once again to the north. His pace was easy since he was no longer running from his parents, and he figured that he would never see them again. His father was probably in the hospital from Hope’s attack the day before, and wouldn’t be coming after him for some time. Jonathan figured he was safe for the time being, and with his new friend, he thought he would make it quite easily.

He walked through the forest that day, merely enjoying the day. It was a cool day, but not overly cold, and he walked as a free man, with a pace that said he had a destination, but was not in a rush to get there. Hope would wander off at various times, but would always come back within an hour or two. Jonathan figured she was going to relieve herself, or to get some water, or something, and so he never really worried about it. About sunset, Jonathan came upon a small stream, and he could see quite a few trout running through the water. Deciding that a meal of fish would be much better than the jerky he’d been having for the last couple days, he decided to set up camp on the bank of the stream, and then fish for his dinner. He walked upstream for about five hundred yards before he found a good, flat place, and he built a small fire. Stripping down to his underwear, he waded out into the stream. Immediately, he had second thoughts about fishing for supper. This water is freezing!

Thinking back to the survival book he’d read, he tried to fish by hand like the books had showed him. Sneaking up on a fish he could see, he very slowly slipped his hands under its belly, and then tried to grab it before it could swim away. It took him several tries, but after a while he got the hang of it, and soon had several fish sitting on the riverbank. As he waded back to shore, he noticed that Hope was sitting at the edge of camp, and the bones of three trout were just in front of her. Hope had apparently had the same idea, but was a much better fisher than Jonathan.

“Showoff,” Jonathan growled as he put on his clothes. He then very quickly cleaned the fish, having been shown by his long dead grandfather many years ago, and had them roasting over the fire in a matter of minutes. While the fish was cooking, Jonathan cleared an area near the fire of sticks and small stones, and unrolled his sleeping bag. Taking the fish off the fire, Jonathan enjoyed his first truly wild meal, and it was a wonderful feeling. He was free, and living the way God had intended man to live.

After taking the bones and viscera a ways downstream, Jonathan lay down for the night. He thought about his journey so far, and estimated that he’d gone about 30 or 35 miles since he’d really started yesterday, and estimated that he had another ten miles left to Placerville. If he made good time tomorrow morning, he should be able to skirt the edges of town and be a good ways beyond by sundown tomorrow. All that remained after that was another day to the highway, and then nothing but wilderness and logging roads.

Free. It was such a wonderful feeling. Despite being on the run, Jonathan thought that there was nothing greater in this world than freedom. However, the thought struck him that he was still three days from true freedom—a day to Placerville, another to get past the highway, and another day to get a good foothold into the wilderness. Once he was a day in the wilderness, he thought he should be safe from his parents and anyone they might have sent after him.

Funny, he was starting to think in terms of days. Not minutes, not seconds, and certainly not what day of the year it was. Here, time has no meaning. It’s day or it’s night. Seasons only matter in that certain preparations had to be made for the cold months coming. But here in the wilderness, free from the ball and chain of the Gregorian calendar, days of the year had little importance.

Eventually, Jonathan couldn’t keep musing on the freedom of days to come, and drifted off to sleep.

____________________________________________________________________________

The next few days went by without much excitement. Jonathan made excellent time, so much so that he was able to get past Placerville and NF-24 without much trouble, deciding to cross the highway in the middle of the night to avoid any kind of traffic. Continuing on his north-easterly course, Jonathan was able to cover between twenty and twenty-five miles a day, getting farther and farther from human civilization.

The only excitement, if it could be called that, occurred when he crossed the highway. Upon reaching the cover of some bushes on the other side, Jonathan noticed that Hope hadn’t followed him. He could see her on the other side of the road, and as he watched, Hope dipped her head, then turned around and headed back into the trees. Jonathan realized with some surprise that she was saying goodbye, and he was on his own from here.

“Thank you Hope. Good luck to you,” he said as he quietly made his way away from the highway.

Several days later, Jonathan was making his way through a dense thicket, when all of a sudden he smelled smoke from a fire. Over the course of his travels thus far, he had begun to notice that his senses were getting more acute. He thought it was due to the absence of the stink of humankind, and didn’t think anything more than his body purging itself of the toxins of modern man. However, what made this fire interesting was the smell of baking bread wafting along with it, along with the smell of a stew of some sort. Jonathan picked his way silently upwind, literally following his nose to the smell of the baking bread.

After about fifteen minutes, Jonathan came upon a small clearing, at the middle of which sat a small cabin. It was well kept, with a sturdy looking front porch and a well kept front yard. A chimney on the side of the house was the source of the sweet-smelling smoke, and Jonathan realized that someone must be living out here.

Just as he was about to ease back into the trees and go around this homestead, someone came out of the house. It was a woman of average height, with long black hair and a figure out of many men’s fantasies. She stepped out on the porch, and turned to look around the yard. Jonathan froze, not wanting her to see him, yet she zeroed in on his position seemingly instantly. But all she did was smile.

“At last, I thought you would never arrive,” she called out. Jonathan still remained motionless, not wanting to give away his position. After a few seconds, she called again, “Jonathan Ashton, if I had wished you harm, I would not have let you know I was here. Come into the yard, it has been a while since I have seen you.”

Jonathan slowly rose from his position, and stepped fully into the yard. Approaching slowly, he was constantly looking for other hidden surprises.

“Calm yourself, young one, I mean you no harm. I have been waiting for three days for you to arrive.”

“Who are you? What do you mean you have been waiting for me?”

“Your questions will be answered in time. I see that your travels have been good to you,” she said, looking him up and down. “You’re as tough as old roots now.” Indeed, the traveling had been hard on him, and he was tough with wiry muscle and had lost several pounds since starting out. “But your travels for now are over. You are safe here, and may stay as long as you like. Indeed, I believe that you will like it here, for you have much to learn, and there is much that I must teach you before you are ready.”

“Ready for what?”

“All your questions will be answered in time. For now, just have patience.”

“But what’s your name?”

“A name is a very powerful thing, Jonathan Ashton, and should not be given so freely. But you may call me Hope.”

Hope. That name gave a fleeting glimpse of a woman, many months ago. “Hope?”

“Yes, Jonathan Ashton. To you, I am called Hope. Perhaps you remember me like this?” As she said the last word, her features seemed to flow, changing into the beautiful image of the nurse Jonathan had met so many months ago. “Or perhaps like this?” Her features once again flowed into another form, but this time she was an absolutely huge grizzly bear. And just as quickly, her form changed back into the raven-haired goddess he had first seen.

“H…h…how did you do that?” Jonathan asked fearfully as he started to back away. Unfortunately for him, he didn’t see the large rock behind him, and landed unceremoniously on his rump.

“It is one of many things which I can do, and one of many things which you also will be able to do,” she stated regally, and then she laughed and offered a hand to help him up.

“I will be able to do?” Jonathan asked as he reached out to take her hand. “What do you mean I will be able to do?”

“You and I are very alike, Jonathan Ashton,” she stated cryptically, “Your powers have not yet emerged, yet will be quite powerful. Indeed, even more powerful than I.”

“But what are you?” Jonathan asked in trepidation.

“You and I are one in the same, Jonathan Ashton. We are a very rare breed, one whose roots stretch into the very mists of the dawn of time,” she started cryptically. “To you, what I will tell you will seem very outlandish, and you probably will not believe most of what I say.”

Jonathan thought about it for a moment. She obviously was a magician of some sort. He’d seen her shapeshift—Transfiguration he thought it was called from some fantasy readings he’d done for an English class years ago. He really hadn’t seen anything else she’d done, so he had no clue what she—and apparently, he—was. Just at that moment, a small bluebird landed on her shoulder. It seemed quite happy on her shoulder, chirping happily away.

Quite suddenly, her face darkened. “Poachers, you said? Where?”

Jonathan was taken aback. Was she talking to that bluebird? The only thing in his memory that could talk to an animal was…no, she couldn’t be! There was no such thing as magic! But I did just see her change her shape…that wasn’t natural. Maybe magic DOES exist. He thought about it some more, and concluded that she was a druid…which meant that he was a druid. He started feeling a little dizzy at the thought of it, and sat back down on the ground…hard.

“I see you figured it out on your own,” she chuckled at him. “Yes, I am a druid. And you are one as well. A bloody strong one at that, but you have much to learn young one. Now, please go into the cabin and get something to eat. You will find some bread on the hearth and some elk stew in a pot on the table. I have an errand that I must see to. As a druid, part of our duty is to ensure the natural world continues in balance. There is a poacher about 10 miles east of here trying to kill an elk. The legal hunting season is not for another 4 months, so I will see to this man.”

“Wh…what are you going to do?”

“Ensure that he never makes the same mistake twice,” she said ominously, then suddenly shifted into the form of a large golden eagle, and took to the sky.

Jonathan stared silently after her as she winged her way over the ridge to the north, and wondered what exactly what she meant. He couldn’t help but feel excited about her proclamation that he was a druid. It seemed to fit, he thought. He’d been living for about four weeks off the land, and he’d had an easy time of it so far. Perhaps that was part of it. He really didn’t know. All he knew was that he was hungry, and there was food waiting inside. If he had learned anything from his life, it was patience. His questions would wait.

And with that, Jonathan Ashton entered the lone cabin to find his dinner.