As Jim and his younger brother Jake floated a river, it began to rain again.
"Damn sure lucky you brought that poncho the way it's been poring like this." Jim said, as he paddled. "Them plastic bags you been using just don't cut it out here."
"But I never got wet using them". Jake said, slipping into the hooded camo sheet. "And neither did Grampa."
"Gramps never lived near a store that sold ponchos either, young man."
Jake remained silent for a spell. "Think we'll ever find him out here?"
He thought for a moment, then spoke. "I've been down this river plenty of times, and haven't seen anything that resembles Gramps camp, or anyplace he'd been buried. No one's seen him in years."
"Yeah, but Dad..."
"Dad was a drunk!" Jim interupted. "He didn't even look for Grampa! Like he wanted it to happen or something."
Jake turned. "Don't say that about Dad! He can't help it the way he is! Not his fault."
"Dad and gramps had a fight looking for gold, sure. Gramps up and goes, never to be seen again. Dad gets drunk all these years wasting the money like it was toilet paper, and its not his fault?"
"well, maybe if you'd stayed home on occasion and hear Dad talk in his sleep, you'd know he still thinks about grampa."
"Talk in his sleep? Thats re-assuring."
Jake began to paddle hard, eating his respose.
"There." Jim said, pointing with his paddle. "That looks like a nice place to land."
Less then a minute they were on shore. Jake jumped out, splashing his boots in the knee-deep edge, pulling on the anchor rope.
Jim set the paddles inside the gunwales, then jumped out, pulling on another rope, yanking the Zodiak up on the shore.
"Look." Jim said, as he moved to Jake's side. "I'm not about to argue. we came out to do this together. For us. Lets not ruin the day, okay?"
Jake took Jim in his arms, apologizing.
"You think this a good place?" asked Jake, turning about.
"Well, lots of fresh water, high bank so we don't flood out come spring, trees every where. Plenty of game, too. Gramps would choose this place, I bet."
Jake took a swig of his canteen as Jim pulled out his pipe. They stood for a moment, then Jake spoke. "Thanks for letting me come along. I never got a chance to do this like you did."
"Of course not. You're only a kid compared to me. Dad told me 'no' every time I wanted to take you along. Got to save you from yourself, I guess."
"From myself?" Jake sang his words. "I can do that Davey Crockett stuff like the best of them!"
"we'll see." Jim said, as he tossed himself back in the raft.
"You can use this 30-06." He said as he grabbed a rifle.
Jake reached out, taking the thunderstick in his grasp. "What else you got?"
"My 45-70, and I'm holding on to it, thank you."
"But I want the levergun. Grampa had one."
"You can toss rocks at bears if you like."
"Why is it that the younger ones get cheated all the time."
Jim jumped back to the beach. "Because you're just that, younger. Lets head up."
The duo climbed the five foot embankment, and stood for a moment, gathering the scene deeply. They smiled. Both marched single file in to the forest, with Jim leading. In moments they stopped, noticing movement. Something crossed their path, smothering into the thickets, some twenty yards ahead.
"You see that?" Jake said aloud, his exitement level rising. "A moose!"
"Caribou." Jim corrected. "Keep your voice down, you'll scare all the game away."
"Sorry, but I never..."
"What the heck is that?" Jim pointed, as he moved his head to get a better look, his baby blues piercing like bullets through the branches.
"Where?"
"There. By that large tree. See?"
"Damn! Is that..." Jake stopped, exasperation slitting his throat, his jaw dropping.
they walked closer, then began to run, hollaring sounds of joy! A cabin stood before them, almost swallowed by the trees!
Vegetation grew all about, young trees pock marked the yard as if the earth had been trying to claim the forgotten cabin.
They walked up to it. The logs were grey from the weather, the front window was broken out, a large tree stood leaning on the left side where the roof had caved in from the weight. "Looks like no one's home."
The door wouldn't open when Jake tried it. Each rushed around the back, going oposite directions, meeting at the back.
"Up over the top" said Jim. "The hole in the roof." He set his rifle against the wall, and helped Jake jump to the gable, boosting him up. As Jake acro-batted the damage, he slid into the cabin. He stopped, kneeling, looking about.
A table in one corner, wood stove in another, bed in yet another... bed, a bed, he thought. Looks like something is there. He stared for a moment, Jim's request to have the door opened unheard. He moved slowly, inching to the bed. He reached out a hand, and pulled on the rotting cover... He jerked, gasping a mouth full of dusty air, turning, shaking his head in disbelief!
He went for the door like it was slow-motion, eight steps took an eternity. Suddenly he began to scream frantically! His hands fumbled \/\/ith the door, but he couldn't get it open! Jim pounded from the outside. Realizing something crossed the door, he lifted it off, letting Jim's effort to break in much easier. Jim grabbed into Jake, stuffing Jake into his chest. "Easy, young man. Everything's okay. I got you"
"Is it grampa?"
"I can't tell from here." Jim said. "Let me loose."
Jake went behind, as Jim moved to the bed. Jim said a silent prayer, as he viewed the remains.
"Skeleton, bones, nothing left." Jim said, crossing himself. Jake peeked out around Jim's side. "Thats Grampa, I just know it!"
"Give me your poncho."
"\/\/hy? You're not wet."
"To cover him up, you fool."
"No way. Not this one, I just spent good money for something I didn't need."
"If its Gramps, we got to cover him up. If it ain't we still have to, its the decent thing to do. Now give it to me."
Jake slid himself out, handing it over. "I'm going to look around." he said, as Jim blanketed the bed.
"Don't break nothing."
"Break? Everything is already broken in here."
"You know what I mean."
Jake fingered through a shelf, setting things on the table. "Look at this old coffee can. And this one. Look."
Jim came over, grabbing something. "Check this one out." he said, "They don't make cans like this anymore. Bet you can E-Bay this."
"Wow! Look, a pipe. Can I have it?"
"Since when did you smoke? Give it here."
Jim stood back, dusting off the pipe. "Put those things back."
Jake began to return the containers, re-checking them. He stopping at one, holding it the sun light, standing silent for a moment, turning the jar in circles. "Check this out, Jim-bo."
"Whats that?"
"This." He continued, "Its got a paper inside. A note maybe."
Jim took the jar. "Well I'll be damned, it does."
Jim stuck the pipe in his lips, and began to twist the top, making an ugly face as he tryed to break the years-old seal.
"Damn, this one's hard." he said, as the top came off. Setting the jar in Jake's hand, he opend the note.
He began to read...<p>"I done gits to livin enuff. The barr that bit me i done kilt, befor it kilts me. take this here gun and kill them barrs, else they gits to bitin you. bless you an lay me by my wife and kid."
"Wife and kid? Grandpa had another wife?"
"Dad did say Gramps had another wife before Gramma, but thats... I don't rightly know."
They both looked at the bed for a long moment. Jim spoke, breaking the silence. "I guess we oughta bury the poor guy, like he wanted."
"One things for sure, he killed that bear! Man thats got the be scarey!"
"That rifle!" Jim said, remembering something as he set the note in his pocket. "Look for his rifle. Gramps had a 33 Winchester."
They scattered, searching, when Jake found it behind the door. The rifle had been previously used as a locking bar across the door, before Jake removed it.
"Its a Winchester alright." Jake said, inspecting it, smiling. "We found him! We found him, Jim."
Both howled, shouting words of joy, happy as kids eating candy.
Just as quick as they celebrated they stopped, Jim's voice issuing words of defeat. "This ones chambered in 45-70. Gramps was a 33!"
"What?!?"
"Its the only rifle he had. Look." Jim said, his finger tip pointing the stamping on the barrel. "Whom ever this is, it sure ain't gramps."
"Then he's still out there somewhere, Jim."
"We'll get to looking soon enough. Lets tend to this poor guy."
Jim and Jake set the remains within the poncho, and carried him out, heading to the back yard.
After the old man had been buried, Jim and Jake stood silently. Jim crossed himself.
"Did you pray something?" asked Jake.
"Yeah. His ghost won't haunt us, we set him to rest beside his wife and kid."
As they were about to leave, Jim spoke again. "You'll have to heed the old guys warning, if you're going to keep that Winchester."
"You mean?"
"Sure! Like Gramps and I, you can be a levergun guy. Just set the 30-06 back in the boat."
"Thanks, I thought you were going to keep it."
"Besides, it's your turn to hunt a bear, I done got plenty of them already."
Shortly they returned to the boat.
"Where shall we go from here?" asked Jake, as he entered the raft.
"Up river some." Jim responded, begining to paddle. Jake began to smile. He looked skywards, winking. "Thanks." he spoke silently. "I'll take good care ot it, I promise."
Rain began to fall again. "Here." Jim said. "Take my coat."
"No thanks." Jake said, as he slithered himself into a large plastic bag, poking holes for his head and arms. Jim smiled, laughing some. "You're too much like Gramps, young man. He'd be proud of you."<p> THE END
