Authors: Karl Kofoed
“But the question is, would Costerson return to Yale?” said Johnny, stretching both hands out to the fire beside Swan’s.
“That’s unlikely,” replied Swan.
But Johnny was not so sure. He looked at Jack who had been sitting quietly, listening while they talked. Looking into Jack’s eyes always had a calming effect on Johnny. That was still true, but he now realized that something in that gaze had changed. Gone was the wildness of a bewildered animal.
Now, when Johnny peered into those eyes, he saw Jack, his new brother.
Jack was staring into the fire. Its snaps, sparks and flickering dazzled him like a child at a fireworks show. Fire was new to him. His eyes danced with the light, not missing a single nuance of its luminous performance.
“How do you like the fire, Jack?” Johnny asked out of the blue.
Jack looked at Johnny. “How?”
“Do you like the fire?” asked Johnny.
“Fire like water,” said Jack. “Full of light.”
“You’re not afraid of the fire, Jack?” asked Swan.
The sasquatch looked at Swan, then his gaze returned to the fire. He watched it for a while. The damp wood snapped loudly, and sparks shot into the wind and out over the canal.
“Not to touch,” said Jack, squinting at the light.
By morning the storm had moved inland and the sky to the west began to clear. With the promise of fair weather Swan suggested that they eat and continue their travels.
Their coffee supply was dwindling and he was getting eager to get to Port Townsend.
Jack ate little of the food Swan prepared. He seemed content with fiddlehead ferns and roots. Swan had mixed feelings about Jack’s foraging. Every time he came back from the forest he was covered with dirt. Swan wanted Jack to abandon his more ‘beastly skills,’ and said as much to Johnny as they continued their paddling tour of the Hood Canal.
“I don’t know if Jack will ever put aside that part of himself,” said Johnny. “He’s come a long way towards looking human but he is, after all, a sasquatch!”
They continued for some time in silence; the two men paddling and watching the shore while Jack continued his meditative pose with his hands gripping the sides of the dugout and with an ear cocked toward the open water.
Since his first time in the dugout, Jack had grown fond of the experience, and ha was very curious about the sounds that came to him from the sea. Now, as they approached the widest sections of the Hood Canal, Jack overheard killer whales as they organized themselves to hunt for seal. He could hear the yelps of the seal as they cavorted on the place known to man as Seal Rock
.
Johnny was looking at Jack and pondering what the sasquatch must be feeling, when Jack suddenly looked off to their right and pointed. As if on cue, perhaps fifty yards away from the canoe, a seal suddenly leapt into the air barking loudly. A moment later a great dorsal fin broke the surface, then disappeared. “Did you see that, Swan?” yelled Johnny.
“Jack knew it was going to happen.”
“How could I miss it?” replied Swan.
Johnny watched Jack’s eyes follow the invisible chase.
Suddenly, a hundred feet off the prow of their canoe, the whale breached again with the hapless seal clutched in its teeth. A spray of pink foam exploded in the air, and the whale and its victim vanished below the waves. But Jack’s eyes still seemed to be following the underwater action.
“Swan, hard left toward the shore!” yelled Johnny as he realized from Jack’s expression that the whale was coming toward them. “Hard left, Swan,” he called, scooping his own paddle deeply into the water. Swan responded quickly, his own paddle keeping apace with Johnny’s.
As the two men worked feverishly, Johnny watched Jack’s eyes. Suddenly Jack looked wide-eyed at the water beside the dugout and gritted his teeth.
A moment later, only a few yards away, a great black hump of water rose from the sea, followed by a massive dorsal fin that towered over them. It dipped forward as the whale slipped smoothly back into the deep. Johnny saw the beast eye the canoe and noticed the seal was gone from its mouth. He shouted to Swan, “It saw us!”
“I know,” Swan gasped, paddling hard toward shore, but the whale did not reappear. Johnny and Swan soon stopped paddling and sat wordlessly watching the sea.
“Orca,” said Swan watching the water.
“What a Orca?” said Jack.
Johnny grinned. “A question! Jack just asked a question!”
“I heard.” Swan looked over his shoulder at Jack and smiled. “An Orca is a sea creature,” he explained. “It’s what we call a whale.”
“Orca big,” said Jack, looking out to sea.
As if on cue the whale surfaced where Jack was staring. It seemed to hang out of the water for a moment as if it was looking back at them. Then with a great splash it was gone.
“That was close,” remarked Johnny.
“I’ve never known an orca to attack people,” said Swan.
“Unless they interfere with its feeding.”
“Really?” said Johnny with surprise. “He could’ve eaten us all in one gulp.”
Swan started paddling again and Johnny followed his lead.
“I really don’t know why these whales don’t eat people.
Maybe we taste bad?” laughed Swan. “More probably they have plenty of their ordinary diet, seals and fish, to keep them happy.”
Johnny looked out to sea but could see no sign of the whale. “That’s the first whale you’ve ever seen. Isn’t it, Jack?” he said. “It’s my first whale, too.”
“First whale,” said the sasquatch.
Jack didn’t understand much of what the two men were discussing. Only a few words made sense to him. Their meaning came largely from tone and context. But by now Jack’s keen sense of observation had taught him a great deal about Johnny and Swan, or, at least the creatures they represented. Jack had decided long ago that every creature is really two creatures. One is how the creature sees himself and the other is how the world sees the creature. Since each is blind to the other’s viewpoint, Jack reasoned, the true goal must be to learn to see both.
Johnny had the impression that Jack understood most of what was being said. “What did you think of your first whale, Jack?”
The sasquatch looked at him blankly.
Swan pointed toward open water. “Out there somewhere is Seal Rock. Maybe a couple of miles away. I’m considering going on to Port Townsend by water, but it will be deep water all the way and Jack is still inexperienced with canoes. So I have reservations.”
Johnny nodded that he understood, and Swan continued.
“West of Seal rock, when we get to Admiralty Inlet, the water can get rougher. I think we ought to head up to the end of this arm of the canal and then continue overland.”
“What about the canoe? What will we do with it?” asked Johnny.
“There’s a Nootkah village where I plan to make landfall.
With any luck we can trade the canoe for a mule. Then it will be a just long day’s hike to Port Townsend.”
Johnny had wanted to see Seal Rock, but the incident with the whale gave him reservations. He imagined their little canoe caught in the middle of an Orca feeding frenzy. “That’s okay with me.”
Johnny’s mouth was dry and his knuckles were white from clutching the paddle. He reached under a pack and pulled out a large canteen. He took a few swallows and handed it to Jack. The sasquatch took it and unscrewed the cap carefully.
In a perfect imitation of Johnny, he drank from the canteen, then handed it to Swan.
“Next stop, civilization, Jack,” said Johnny, slapping the sasquatch on the shoulder.
Swan took the canteen from Jack and thanked him. He took a few thoughtful sips and recapped it. “Well, John,” he said with a wry smile, “I guess that depends on what you call civilization.”
The trio headed into the arm of the Hood Canal known to the locals as Dabob Bay. Soon the large swells reduced substantially in size and Swan’s mood improved as the paddling became easier. Soon they began to see signs of habitation. Occasionally visible through the trees, trails of smoke betrayed the location of encampments, but except for an occasional rock outcropping, the dense forest pressed close to the water’s edge.
A party of canoes came into sight and passed at a respectable distance. Swan guessed they were Nootkah whalers. They continued for a few hours and decided to camp for the night. Swan said he wanted to gather his wits before he traded with the Nootkahs, but Johnny guessed the man was exhausted from a full day’s paddling. The shoreline now offered more opportunities for campsites, and soon a white stretch of sand promised an easy landing. By nightfall they had set up camp, eaten and were asleep.
The next morning they were up at dawn, eager to join civilization. As they stood by the dugout preparing to disembark, Jack squatted at the water’s edge, holding part of a shell and examining its contours.
Johnny was standing downwind of Jack. “Maybe they won’t smell a sasquatch,” he said looking at Jack.
Swan sniffed the air. “Hmmmm,” he said squinting at the sun through the trees. “It’s still early. Maybe we should give Jack a bath before we head out.”
“Easily done,” said Johnny, turning impulsively. With a gentle shove of his boot he pushed the sasquatch head first into the water. The cold water made Jack shriek with rage while Swan roared with laughter.
“Oh John, now that wasn’t …” coughed the man.
Jack splashed and spat, then stood up hip deep in the water looking puzzled. His hat bobbed about six feet farther out into the bay.
“Oooops, sorry!” said Johnny with a big grin on his face.
With a roar, Jack rushed for Johnny. “Joooonnneeee!”
Johnny put up his hand. “No, Jack … Jack, look.” Johnny pointed at Jack’s hat. “Your hat’s floating away!” Jack stopped his lunge and looked where Johnny was pointing. Jack loved his hat. He would often play with it, trying it on in various ways. Now it was caught in the current and beginning to move away from shore. He looked back at Johnny, who was grinning broadly.
“Johnny get hat!” said Jack. He exploded from the water, picked up Johnny bodily and slung him like a sack of grain over his shoulder. Johnny protested loudly but to no avail.
Resolutely Jack marched back toward the water.
“Now, Jack, be careful,” admonished Swan, keeping himself clear of the skirmish.
Seconds later Johnny found himself airborne, headed straight for Jack’s hat. With a gigantic splash he and the hat disappeared into Dabob Bay.
“Jaaaaaack!” Exploding from the frigid water, Johnny’s shriek was distorted by gasps and chattering teeth.
Johnny was holding Jack’s hat. He filled it with water and held it out, smiling at Jack. Then a sinister look crossed his face, and he reached his free hand into the water. A moment later he produced a stone the size of a small melon, dripping with mud and muck. He placed the rock ceremoniously into Jack’s hat and let it sink to the bottom. Then he waded ashore. His water filled boots made loud squishing sounds as he marched to where Jack was standing. “You get yer danged
hat
yer danged
self!
” he said, turning to walk away.
Jack pondered the situation and a smile crossed his face.
“Johnny find hat,” pronounced Jack as he nabbed Johnny once again. This time he tucked the boy under one arm.
Johnny kicked and punched helplessly as Jack walked calmly back into the water. Johnny howled and sputtered with rage as Jack dunked him, head first, into the spot where he’d sunk Jack’s hat.
“Johnny get hat,” repeated Jack each time he dunked the boy.
After several dunkings Johnny finally retrieved the hat.
Jack immediately released him and snatched his hat from Johnny’s hands, placing it firmly on his head. “My hat!” said Jack as water and mud ran down his face.
Swan laughed so hard he had to sit down.
Several hours later they had dried off and peace had somehow been restored to the trio. Swan had taken the time to catch up with his diaries.
“Well,” he said finally, putting his writing diary into his pack, “We’ve had our bath. Can we now continue our travels?” He paused for a moment and smiled. “I dare say, you two are a hoot. I will surely miss you when you leave for Yale.”
Johnny smiled. “Maybe you’d feel differently if Jack had thrown
you
into the drink. That water’s cold!”
Swan shuddered. “Ah, yes. That’s why I would have asked the sasquatch to take a bath.”
“We got rid of the stink,” grumped Johnny.
Swan sniffed the air. “Well, he smells a bit more of seaweed. In fact, you both do. That much is certain.”
As soon the trio resumed their trip they rounded a bend and saw a plume of smoke over the trees. “Nootkahs, I think,” offered Swan. “They’ll be keeping an eye on us. I’ve been to this village only once, so they may not recognize me.”
“Friendlies?” asked Johnny.
“Of course they are, Johnny. Nootkahs, like all the natives around here, prefer trade to war. But they have their ways, and you have to respect that. Visitors bring news, and you know everyone enjoys gossip. I suspect they’ll be seeking information of earthquake damage.”
It wasn’t long before they rounded another spit of land and saw the village. Their first sight was of a group of women near the shore laying fish on long poles to dry, while children played in the warm sun. A few of the women noticed the canoe and pointed, but it caused no great commotion.
Swan waved and so did Johnny.
Jack raised his hand as well. He was thinking of himself as human, a companion among the humans called Johnny and Swan. To the sasquatch, life is travel, either alone or with family. And that life was lived, day to day. After a winter with the two humans Jack felt linked to them.
Watching the natives on shore, Jack had his damp hat pulled low over his eyes. But he held his head up somewhat to show as human a profile as possible. Jack noticed a long time ago that unlike himself, humans had long necks. So he did his best to look like one by stretching his head as high as possible, even though it made him feel vulnerable. He wondered why humans didn’t break their necks in falls.
As they neared the village Swan saw two men step out of a lodge perhaps a hundred yards from shore. They were dressed in brown leathers, and each wore a long range coat.