The Forest, by Ben Greenfield - Chapter 3: "The Trail"

The Forest Chapter 3 the Trail the first day was the most difficult. Upon feeling his way up and down River's leg, Terran had indeed found a spot where the lower leg bone could be felt, pressing up against the skin, along with plenty of obvious swelling. When Terran pressed down on the spot, river would howl with pain. The bone hadn't come through the skin and there was no blood, but both boys knew that this was not an easy injury to do. With precious nerves and blood vessels surrounding, a fracture can become compressed and even severed. Even though he couldn't see, Terran knew from River's description that the leg was purplish red around the broken bone. He had already slipped River's shoe off and felt all his brother's toes. They weren't numb and they weren't icy cold either. Both would have been signs that River's break had severed a major vessel. Hampered by Terran's complete inability to see and River's broken leg, the boys cooperated to fashion a splint. River described their surroundings to Terran. We're at the bottom of some kind of cliff. I've never seen it before on our land, Terran. It's just rocks straight up higher than our house. Probably twice as high. Terran nodded, quickly painting a picture in his mind as river continued, all the other sides of us are just trees and bushes. I don't see any trails or anything. I recognize some of the stuff, though. There's a ton of really thick gooseberry bushes. There's a big clump of some big leaves that look like cabbage. I'm pretty sure most of the trees are some kind of a cedar. That and mostly fur. Taran interrupted. Anything for splinting or something we could use for crushes? River's voice sped up. This always happened when he was excited. Yeah, yeah, definitely. There's one tree maybe 15ft to the right of that has some good low hanging branches if you can get them off. It's a bigger tree, I think oak. You could maybe get some kind of a walking stick too, from that one. Terran nodded. Where's that cabbage stuff? I could maybe use that as a wrap over your leg where it's bruised. Between a week long wilderness camp, a hunter's education class, and the inordinate amount of time he'd spent with his nose stuffed into science and nature books, Taryn was suddenly feeling a surge of confidence. Despite not being able to see, he was already feeling as though his mind was thinking more quickly without the sensation of sight. River continued, it's right behind you on both sides of a big tree. And it looks like maybe some kind of pineapple weed too. A bunch of little ones sprouting up. Terran made a mental note. He knew that sweet and mint scented weeds like this would be good at keeping biting insects away. He moved on, wondering if darkness would be setting in soon. What time do you think it is, River? Um. Where's the sun? I can't see it. The only sky that I can see through the trees has dark gray clouds everywhere. Terran nodded and at the same time felt a stinging sensation of disappointment in his chest. He had still silently been hoping that it was already nighttime and that his eyes were merely having trouble adjusting. The next several hours were very busy. After shouting for help until their voices were hoarse, the boys realized that nobody at all seemed to be around. They couldn't hear a vehicle. No planes, no helicopters, no distant sounds of train whistles or rumbling semi trucks. Nothing. So they began tending to themselves. First, while river called out directions, Terran felt his way to the clumps of skunk cabbage sprouting below the trees. He gathered several large leaves and brought them back. Then he took off his hoodie to remove his T shirt and with River's help, crushed and mashed the leaves inside the shirt to make a poultice. They wrapped this cabbage poultice around the swollen sections of River's leg. Next came the splint. While river called out directions again, Terran felt his way to the oak tree. First, he snapped off one thin and straight limb that he could use as a cane to both support his body and to feel his way through the rest of his undertakings. After that, he was able to snap off two forked branches, one about as long as River's body and one the length of River's leg. Using a thin flat rock for cutting into the end of the wood, he notched the forkless ends of the bigger branches and lashed a smaller branch between them, tying the smaller branch between the two larger branches with strips from the fibrous cords of the cedar tree. Using more cords of cedar, he tied the splint around the upper part of River's body and then down the length of River's broken leg with the smaller branch ending under River's foot, he wrapped the stick ends around the ankle with several more cedar strips, then wrapped River's T shirt around the entire foot. When he was done, with the addition of one extra thick stick from the oak tree to use as a walking stick, River's body could now help support his broken leg. Enough for him to stand and slowly hobble.

By this time, at least two hours had passed. And although the air was crisp and slightly warm, the same as it might be in the shade on an afternoon summer day, both boys knew that night would eventually be setting in. Terran's face was dripping with sweat and River's throat was parched. They'd need water as night approached. They would need shelter. They would eventually need food. This was known as the rule of threes. Three minutes without air, three days without water, and three weeks without food. Both boys knew that in harsh environments, three hours without shelter should also be added to this list. Above all, shelter and water would be crucial. Not a sign of life had stirred during all their activities. Not the cry of a bird, not the chattering of a chipmunk, not the snapping twigs underfoot from a forest animal. And so two brothers, one lame and one blind, both with ripped hoodies, tousled hair and dirty faces, now stood facing one another in a small clearing, barely prepared to survive a night in what appeared to be a lonely, lonely wilderness.

Most children who have spent much time in the forest have experimented with the basic construction of a lean to shelter. It goes something like find a large tree to lean a center beam on. Then find a downed tree or very large branch to use as a center beam. Once the center beam is leaning against the large tree, support sticks or ribs go on either side of the center beam, which can then be covered with bark, pine needles, ferns, small branches, leaves and other debris from the forest ground. But river and Terran knew better than to build a simple lean to shelter. With no idea about how cold the temperature could get in their new strange surroundings. They would need to instead survive the night in a debris hut, which is somewhat like a giant human sized squirrel's nest.

Similar to a lean to, a debris hut can be built with a center support structure like a large rock stump or fallen tree with branches on on either side of that center support. But unlike a lean to, it must be built very, very close to the ground and both filled and covered with many inches of warm, insulating debris to keep human bodies warm while curled up inside. Layers of leafy material on the outside can shed rain and block wind, providing a bubble of air inside that is warmed by body heat. For this reason, debris shelters should be built as small as possible so that the body or bodies inside are heating only the minimal space required to keep warm. Their plan was to use river's eyes to hunt down a good fallen support tree or a big stump or a boulder. Along with lots of fallen branches, piles of debris and large fern like plants or bark to keep out any rain, Terran could rely on rivers directions to grab and drag materials back to the support back home in the forest. With able bodies, they could easily build a debris hut in just a couple easy afternoon hours. Here, in a strange place with very little sight or mobility, they'd be lucky to have a proper shelter built in half a dozen hours and it already seems to be growing dark. River slumped against their chosen support, a giant fallen cedar tree, his splinted leg outstretched in front of him, and shouted out directions to Terran. Two big straight branches there. Brother. No, to your left. I mean my left. Your right. Too far. Too far. Step backwards. Terran quietly tried to focus and feel his way through the forest, swallowing his growing sense of frustration and trying to ignore his parched throat and dry mouth. Riv. Where? Where? I can't see. Oomph. Down he went on a sharp stick protruding from the thick debris and leaves. He felt the stick bite painfully against his hip, just dull enough to leave more of a bruise than a wound. Turin bit his lip in discomfort, the same lip that had just stopped bleeding. He immediately winced and tasted the warm, salty blood begin to collect once again in his mouth. He slowly sat up and looked in the direction of river, defeated tears beginning to swell and roll with white streaks down his dirty face. Oh, man. Come here, brother. Terran stumbled towards river, half whimpering and half crying from the pain, the darkness, and the impending threat of a night exposed in a strange forest. He felt his way to his brother's body and laid his head on River's lap. Riv, we can't do this. It's impossible. It's gonna take forever. We just don't have time, Riv. And we haven't even found water yet. River grunted. Not a cold, unfeeling grunt, but rather a curious, distracted grunt. Huh? Terran, there's a trail. Terran sat up, wishing even harder that he could see. Wha? Where? River began, struggling to his feet, barely wincing in pain from the excitement of seeing a sign of life. Help me up, brother. I'll bring you. I'm not sure, but I think it's a trail. Terran grabbed his brother's armpit and pulled him up, supporting River's hobbling body. As they moved deeper into the forest, river spoke in hushed, excited tones. Yes, here the ground is just a little bit trampled. And here there's an opening through these thicker bushes. The ground stays trampled down between these two trees. Here, Terran could feel the flora brush against his skin and face. It felt just like the thick gooseberry bushes that grew around their home in the forest. But there was definitely a smoother area of the ground with no stalks and underbrush to stumble upon. They were beginning to move through the brush with relative ease. River with his splint and walking stick, and Terran with his oak cane. Yes, this was definitely a game trail. And where there was life, there could be water. A silent onlooker from above would have witnessed two brothers quietly following this trail for nearly an hour. Stumbling, losing the path, recovering, catching sight of the path again, whispering to each other, limping, dodging and weaving through the underbrush, completely forgetting the shelter, the impending night, and their seemingly dire predicament. The boys continued to follow the trail as it sloped downward, both silently hoping to find another human or an animal, or even more importantly, water. The trees began to grow more thin. Terran felt fewer bushes scraping against his skin. Normally, this is how things would feel when coming upon a meadow after traversing through a thick forest. But this was no meadow they were approaching. River began to slow as he called out smooth rocks in their path, rocks that first peppered the trail here and there, but became more frequent as they continued to move downwards, eventually forming a quilted patchwork of obstacles. The path grew more steep. The bushes continued to thin. Both brothers were now forced into a cycle of stepping forward, dropping down onto their butts to slide downhill over rocks, then struggling back up to their feet. They came to the very edge of the woods, where the trees stopped in a neat line, replaced by row after row of rocks. The air was suddenly moist and cold. Terran heard the strange sound first, his ears sharpened by the absence of sight. It was some kind of a low, quiet roar. A highway, perhaps. It was something he'd heard before, but couldn't quite remember where. A rumble. A low hum. A crash. A crash. At nearly the same time, the boy spoke aloud for the first time in the past hour. River. Those are waves crashing, Terran. I can see water. And there, several steep football field lengths of rocks. Ahead of them, shimmering in the light of dusk, was an endless expanse of dark, dark blue water and foamy ocean waves colliding against the rocks. Large boulders, steep, rugged cliffs and craggy peaks were strewn across the landscape leading to the water. There was no beach, no sand, just a hard, gray landscape of sharp stones. This was not the refreshing oasis they had been hoping for, of course. Terran could see none of this. He could simply taste salty Moist air. Feel the tiny flecks of humidified microscopic water droplets against his skin. And hear the repetitive rumble, hum and crash as each wave of water slammed into the rocks. Do you see boats? River? Is there a way to get down to the water? Are there people? River was quiet. Terran immediately knew his brother was hiding unpleasant news. There was no sharp hurried breath of excitation, no whoops of joy and no laughter. Just a sigh. We can't get to the water. It'd be impossible. It's a giant field of steep sharp rocks going down to the water. Anyways, nobody is there. Taran heard river shuffling, turning, scanning the landscape, looking forwards, looking backwards, he could nearly hear rivers brain humming in desperation, searching for a solution. Finally river spoke, his voice dry and hoarse. All the way to our right is just rocks and water. As far as I can see to the left same thing, just rocks going down to the water. I think it might be an ocean because I can't see any land out there at all. Terran finished River's sentence. And it smells just like the coast. He painted a mental picture from his brother's description. Trees ending, rocks beginning steep treacherous hike down to an expanse of never ending water that they probably couldn't drink anyways. River kept going. Yeah, definitely smells like the ocean. If only. Only what brother? Well back behind us, all the way back where we came, there's a really high peak I can see. I can see it above the tree line behind us. So it's way up there. If we could somehow get to that, we'd be able to see where we are. We could maybe even see an airplane or a helicopter or a house or something. But there's no way we're gonna make it down to that water. Terran tried to swallow. At this point he could barely make any saliva. We can't go back now. It has to be getting close to dark and there's still no water for us to drink. Both boys stood for a moment, completely silent. Terran's thoughts shifted back to the last book he had read on surviving in nature. With his lack of sight, his mind seemed to more vividly recall the words. Fresh drinking water can often be right under your feet in the mountains, the forests, the desert, or even the salty ocean. Yet you may never know it's there. You can die just feet or inches from hidden sources of water. If you're stranded near the ocean on an island or traveling near the coast on the mainland, then the ocean itself can provide fresh drinking water. If you can condense salt water by Boiling it to produce vapor that you collect in a towel or cloth. You can then drink the vapor. Terran sighed. Vapor was not going to happen. Even if they could get down to the water, they had no means to make fire. Not a flint, not a knife, not a rock. He sat down and hugged his knees to his chest, listening to the ocean and staring into the intense blackness of his own eyes. He never imagined that this was how he and his brother would die. Broken and blind, stranded in some strange forest and never knowing how they got there. Chicka chicka dee dee dee dee Possible. The sound was nearly on top of him. Terran stumbled to his feet immediately dizzy from the lack of water and the sharp drop in his blood pressure. Chick a tee dee. River, is that. River interrupted that bird. That stupid chickadee. He's back. Where, Riv? Where? Taran heard rocks clacking together as river fumbled with the ground, gathering a handful of small stones in his hands while mumbling quietly. It's in the trees above us. Same bird, Terran. Same bird. I know it's the same bird. It's his fault. The bird called again and Terran heard shuffling. He could see in his mind's eye. River standing up, probably holding a handful of stones. His brother screamed. It's your fault. Terran knew what would happen next. He knew the only life they'd seen, perhaps their only hope for direction or help was about to get driven away or worse yet, killed by his brother. River, no. Terran reached towards his brother's voice and grabbed him in a bear hug. No, no, no. Maybe he's trying to show us something again. Yeah, again. Just like the first time. It's his fault. It's your fault, bird. River struggled to break free as the chickadee kept chirping back. Terran couldn't tell if the bird was taunting or perhaps trying to signal something important. Despite his broken leg and splint, river was putting up a tremendous fight. Terran, he's moving. Let go of me. Let go of me. Terran. Already Terran could hear the bird's chickadee call begin to grow slightly more faint. River, please. Please don't hurt him. River, he might be able to help us. We need to follow him. Hesitation. Again the bird called again, more faint. It was slipping away. River, please. Terran felt his brother's grip loosen. He heard the stands clacking against the ground as river released his ammunition and softened his tense muscles. Terran let go of his bear hug. Hold. You go in front. River. Follow him. River mumbled quietly. This better not be like last time. The bird seemed to skirt along a path between where the trees ended and where the rocks began, leading the boys parallel to the water and the forest. Every once in a while it would stop, look back, cock its head directly at them, chirp, flitter to another tree, and then look back again. For 10 minutes this pattern continued as the boy slowly followed river limping and leading the way with the support of his walking stick, and Terran listening and feeling his way forward with his oak cane as his brother called out rocks, shallow ditches and fallen logs in the path. As dusk finally seemed to be approaching and the trees and the rocks began to transform into dark shadows, the boys were moving more and more slowly. And then, just as before, the birds chirping stopped. Terran immediately spoke in hushed tones. River, do you see him? Did he disappear again? No, he's right in front of us. He dropped down out of a tree and he's sitting on a big rock. He's looking right at us, maybe 30ft away. It's getting dark, but I can barely see him. River slowly stepped forward as Terran followed, this time with one hand on his brother's shoulder and one hand feeling the ground with his cane. Terran heard more clacking as river picked up another handful of rocks and whispered through clenched teeth, if he can't help us, we can at least eat him. Terran briefly puzzled at the actual odds that his brother could somehow hit a tiny, fast chickadee with a small handful of rocks. In the past half dozen hours since their storm, strange journey had begun, this was the first time he'd actually thought much of food and eating. For a quick second, his mind wandered to how they would actually cook a bird. Then river spoke sharply. There's a cave. Cave? The big rock that the bird's sitting on. It's got a crevice right in the middle of it. Some kind of a hole. It's a cave, brother. I think he led us to a cave. Terran's mind lit up as he heard the rocks again drop from River's hand. Cave. Shelter. Warmth, possibly pools of dripping water filtered by stone and earth. He knew his brother was thinking the same thing. His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the whisper of tiny wings and a faint swoosh. Without river saying anything, Terran knew the bird was moving again. River? Where's he going? I think he's gone. Hard to say. It's getting a lot darker now. Terran silently deliberated. Should they follow the bird? Should they go into the cave? But river had already made up his mind and was moving ahead of him. I'm going in, Riv. What if it's like the shed? What if something bad happens? Terran stumbled behind river, following the sound of River's walking stick and trying to navigate over the rocks with his cane. Worse than this, Terran. Maybe it will get us back home. I don't know. But I'm going in. Stay there. Terran heard his brother scrambling onto his belly to crawl into the shallow crevice. Just wait there, Terran. I have to check this out already. River's voice slightly echoed, then grew more faint, then silence. Terran stood there alone. He felt a slight chill. The breeze from the ocean was wet and cold and seemed to easily move through his ripped and mangled hoodie. He felt goosebumps on his arms and the back of his neck. There was no sound but the rumble, hum, and crash of the waves as they slammed against the cliffs and rocks. River, not again. This couldn't happen again. He'd been alone already once before in this strange place, and the familiar feeling of panic began to slowly pour over Terran's cold, shivering body. River, come back. No brother. No bird. Just wind and cold and crashing of ocean waves. Terran's shivering turned to shaking. He desperately felt his way with his cane towards the last place he'd heard his brother at the entrance of the cave. R. River. And then he stood there, clenching and unclenching his fists. Bruised hip no sight. Torn lips shivering body defeated and broken. Was this it? Was he left here blind to die on a rocky beach after what seemed like an eternity. There was a faint scrape, a shuffling, a voice. Terran, come in here. Terran heard his brother river crawling out of the cave, wincing in pain as he wiggled on his belly and maneuvered his body half out of the cave entrance, dragging his broken leg behind. Terran, you have to see this.