Chapter Nine
Hours later, Whit had finished building what she called a smoker.
It was an ingenious structure, framed by a tripod of timber and filled in with a vast collection of river rock and clay from the shore of the creek.
The finished product looked like a tall cone and at the very top, the rock and clay were substituted with heavy branches to form the peak.
Whit straightened from adding some finishing touches. “That ought to do it,” she said, wiping her hands. “Now it’s time to catch some more fish.”
“How long will it take to smoke them?” Abby asked, truly bewildered by all that Whit could do. She was extremely knowledgeable and Abby was once again so thankful that she was with her on this junket.
“All day and night.”
“That long?”
“Smoking is a lengthy process.” She stabbed the dull end of the spear into the ground as if she were a farmer proudly holding a corn rake. “Coming with?”
Abby ambled to a stand and hobbled over to her. “Wouldn’t miss it.”
“How are your feet?” Whit asked.
“They’re still sore, but the blisters are a little better.”
“Maybe you should soak them while I fish.”
They walked across the river rock to the creek and Abby sat on the same stone she had before and untied her boots and carefully peeled off her socks. What she wouldn’t give for a shower. She felt dirty and crusty and could only imagine how brown the water would be swirling down the shower drain.
“Guess this creek water will have to do.” She bent and gathered the crisp water in her hands to splash upon her face. She gasped at the cold and scrubbed her skin as best she could, then rinsed again. Whit called to her from down the shoreline.
“Hey, don’t scare the fish away.”
Abby waved, feeling sheepish. “Sorry.” She eased back onto the rock, gently placed her feet in the water, and dried her face with the inside collar of her sweater.
She sat like that for a good while, watching as Whit pulled three fish from the creek.
Whit had made a little side pool with the rocks to keep the caught fish in as she continued to try to catch more.
Abby wondered how many she’d try to catch.
She also wondered how many days Whit thought it would take before they reached some sort of help.
How far can I go on this knee? Abby stretched and bent her leg.
It was less sore, but it stiffened up a lot when she sat.
Hopefully, it wouldn’t be so bad when they left again.
She glanced back over at Whit and studied her as she stood braced to attack with her spear.
She resembled a warrior, all astute and strong, ready for battle.
Her black mane glistened in the sun and looked incredibly striking against the burnt orange of her thick, cable-knit sweater.
Her snug-fitting black jeans showed off the lean muscles in her legs as she balanced, rocking a bit from her heels to the balls of her feet.
She was definitely a sight to behold, and Abby wished she had her phone so she could photograph her.
She wanted a picture of her just like that so she could look at it at her leisure.
Never before had she been so entranced by someone.
Sure, she’d seen some beautiful women before, even been with a few, but none of them compared to Whit.
With her lithe, agile build, dark raven hair, and deep, amber eyes that seemed to rival the creek, she was truly someone to write home about.
Abby smiled as Whit speared the stick into the water and forked another fish. Whit laughed as she hauled it out and whooped at the size. She held it up flailing for Abby to see.
“It’s huge!” Abby said. The fish was twice the size of the others.
“Whitefish!” Whit called.
Abby gave her a thumbs up. Whit grinned and removed the fish.
Abby looked back at her submerged feet, still uncomfortable in seeing Whit finish off the fish.
It was bad enough that she had to eat them and watch her spear them, but what could she do?
She was stranded in the middle of the Alaskan wilderness and she had to survive.
So what sense did it make to complain or to refuse the food?
I have to do, what I have to do. But eating animals did go against her beliefs and in fact, that had been a note of contention with her magazine when they’d first asked her to come on this trip.
They’d wanted someone to try the array of food, and when she’d told them she was vegan, they’d originally turned their nose up at her.
But she’d explained her beliefs and the health benefits of eating plant-based and eventually they’d conceded.
She’d also, begrudgingly, agreed to try some of the seafood.
It wasn’t something she’d normally do, but she’d really wanted this opportunity and the chance to write for this magazine full-time.
Little had she known just how much fish she’d be eating. Heck, she’d even had Spam.
Ugh, I can’t believe I ate Spam. She had to admit though, it wasn’t half bad. Only if one’s life was in peril that is. She was sure it would taste different under normal circumstances.
Feet now well beyond numb, she lifted them and shifted her legs over to the rocky shore where she patted them dry with her jacket.
Then she tucked them back into her socks and boots and sat staring off into the wilderness.
Whit was right, the beauty of this place was awe-inspiring, and if she weren’t so worried about escaping back to civilization, she’d be more moved.
But as it was, she could only seem to enjoy her surroundings in short bursts, the rest of the time, too concerned about danger and getting back to safety.
She shifted her gaze from the distant area of the vast tree line to the other, closer area.
And that’s when she saw something. Movement, behind some brush.
Her heart jumped to her throat, and she was poised to move, convinced it was a bear.
But upon closer inspection, she realized it was a moose.
She smiled as she watched it maneuver through the brush to feed.
She turned to wave at Whit but found her already looking in the same direction.
Whit smiled at her in return and raised her finger to her mouth to signal quiet.
“It’s a buck,” she said. “And they can be aggressive.”
Abby turned back to the moose, a little nervous, and was relieved to see it walk off in the other direction.
The animal was huge, much bigger than she’d ever imagined a moose to be.
But it was magnificent with its wide velvety antlers shimmering in the sun, along with its beautiful hide and impossibly long legs carrying it about. She wished again for her camera.
“He’s something, isn’t he?” Whit said, having come to stand next to her.
“He sure is.”
“Have you not seen one before?”
“Not yet I hadn’t. Not in person.”
Abby felt Whit’s hand rest on her shoulder and her skin tingled from the touch.
“Well, now you have. You can check that off your list.”
“Along with a few other choice things.”
Whit chuckled. “Come on. I need to get the fire going in that smoker.”
“Hey, Whit? How are we going to carry all the fish?”
She shrugged. “I’ll make a basket.”
“Oh. Right.” She’d momentarily forgotten just how creative and deft she was with her hands. “Silly me.”
They walked back to camp and Abby saw just how many fish Whit had caught already. She had six, which appeared to be trout, plus the massive whitefish. It looked as though they would be eating good for a while so far. And who knew how many more Whit would catch.
“How many are you hoping to smoke?”
“A few more.”
“And we can carry that?”
“I can.”
Abby settled down to watch her make the fire. “Is there anything you can’t do?”
Whit laughed. “Take me to the Lower Forty-eight if you want to see me out of my element.”
“Really? Hm. I might just have to do that.” Thoughts of being with Whit back in Phoenix swirled through her mind, and she felt herself flushing at the possibilities.
“Good luck.” Whit slid her fire starting kit out of her pocket and struck up a quick flame. Then she leaned in and blew on it through the small opening of the rock-and-clay structure. Abby noticed that she was only using some specific wood she’d gathered into the fire.
“Is that special wood or something?” she asked.
“Birch,” Whit said. “Good smoking wood.”
“Ah. I wish I could write all this down. I’m learning so much.” She cocked her head. “You know, this whole adventure would make quite an article.”
“You think?” She fanned the flames until a nice, thick smoke began to rise and then she backed away to collect the fish.
She placed the fillets carefully inside, having to kneel on her knees and lean inside the hole to do so.
Abby assumed she was setting them on the lower tier makeshift shelf she’d made with the sticks.
Abby glanced away from checking out her backside, which, she had to admit, was very nice, and focused instead on stoking the other fire.
She did that for a few moments until she saw Whit emerge and began building the rocks up to close off the opening.
“There,” she said, standing. She’d left two smaller fillets on the log, and she quickly laid them on the flat rock to cook before she settled down on the log herself. “Don’t know about you, but I’m ready for some lunch.”
“Sounds good to me.”
“You doing okay in eating all this fish?” Whit asked as she retrieved her knife to play with the fillets as they began to sizzle.
“What do you mean?” She hadn’t complained, or told Whit she was vegan.
“I figured you weren’t used to eating such cuisine seeing as how you couldn’t watch me kill and clean it.”
“Oh. Well, you’re right. I’m not. I’m vegan. At least, I usually am.”
Whit laughed. “I thought as much.”
“But I’m not complaining.”
“No, you’re not. You’ve been quite the trouper. With your knee and the fish and everything.”
“I can’t be choosy, can I? This is about survival. And I have to eat and I have to walk. Otherwise, I’d never get out of here.”
“True. But I still think you’re being a real fighter. I can’t tell you how many tourists I’ve come across who complain about everything.”
“Oh?”
“They don’t like the cold, they don’t like the rain, they don’t like all the hiking, or walking or what have you. And if they get injured? Forget it. It’s over.”
“Even though they came to Alaska to explore the outdoors?”
“Yep. Even so. Even when they came to go on long hiking tours, bringing all their fancy gear and everything. You’d think they came to climb Everest. But no, they’d still end up complaining.”
“You took people on tours?”
Whit swallowed. “Uh, yeah. Used to.”
“Well, no wonder why you’re so at ease. You’re pretty much used to this.”
“Close.”
“Why did you stop doing that? I can’t imagine you got tired of the outdoors.”
Whit stood suddenly and handed over her knife. “Excuse me. Call of nature.” She walked off into the woods and left Abby staring after her.