Wilder Boys (18 page)

“These look pretty fresh,” Jake muttered. The edges of the prints were still sharp.

Cody looked back at Jake impatiently, and the two continued, climbing over mountain ridges and down into rugged valleys.

Where was Taylor going?
Jake wondered. He guessed his brother had gotten turned around or lost, but he also thought maybe Taylor had something else in mind that he hadn't told Jake about. Every once in a while Jake thought he and Cody had lost the trail, but the terrier rarely waivered, and sure enough Jake would soon find new tracks.

When the sun had climbed halfway up into the sky, Jake and Cody found a makeshift lean-to with a fresh bed of pine needles under it. They paused to examine it, and Jake felt sure it was Taylor's work. Jake sat down only long enough for a drink of water and to give Cody a piece of Skeet's elk jerky, before carrying on their search.

Soon Jake and Cody were on a kind of game trail going farther into the mountains. Jake made his way across the rocky land when suddenly both he and Cody froze. Up ahead, they heard a terrible whining cry like a banshee. The cry continued, rising and falling in pitch, and then it was followed by a deep growl.

Jake shivered. “Stay!” he ordered Cody, and for one of the only times in his life, Cody looked happy to stop.

Jake quickly unslung his bow and nocked an arrow. Then he walked past Cody and moved carefully forward.

The cry continued, and then Jake heard a terrified human voice call: “Get back!”

“Taylor!” Jake yelled, and ran forward, the bow still in his hands. Cody followed him, barking furiously.

They came upon a scene out of a bad dream. Thirty feet away, Taylor sat trapped halfway back into a ten-foot-deep cave. At the far end of the cave cowered a bobcat kitten about the size of a housecat, but at the mouth of the cave snarled a full-grown mama bobcat.

Jake immediately sized up the situation.

Taylor's trapped between the mother and her kitten!

“Taylor, get out of there!” Jake shouted.

“I can't, Jake. My leg!”

Jake saw blood oozing from Taylor's ripped-open pant leg and realized that his brother couldn't move. Cody growled and barked but stayed well away from the snarling cat.

“Go away!” Taylor shouted at the mother bobcat, this time throwing a rock from the cave floor at the snarling animal. The bobcat barely flinched.

Jake drew his bow and took aim. The mother cat turned her head and snarled at him, but she didn't give up her position. Jake lowered his bow, realizing that with his poor aim, he'd probably shoot his brother instead of the bobcat.

“Jake, do something!” Taylor shouted.

Quickly dropping his pack, Jake pulled out his homemade slingshot. He selected a white piece of quartzite, drew back the surgical cord, and aimed. The rock flew with a hiss, striking the bobcat's flank. Crying out, the cat leaped and spun to face Jake and Cody directly. For an instant Jake thought the cat would attack, but Cody seemed to have found his courage and now stood barking fiercely between Jake and the cat.

Jake picked up another rock and fired. This time he hit the bobcat squarely on the nose. The cat shrieked, and in the turmoil, the bobcat kitten streaked past Taylor, out of the cave, and up the rocky slope. The mother saw her kitten make its getaway, screamed at Jake one last time, and then turned to follow her young.

Jake rushed to his brother.

“Taylor, what happened? How badly are you hurt?”

With his brother there, Taylor burst into sobs. “Jake, I'm sorry! I was such an idiot for leaving!”

Jake hugged him. “No, it was my fault,” he said. “I shouldn't have yelled at you. You were right to try to find out about Mom.”

He pulled himself away from Taylor's arms to examine the wound on his leg. “Did the bobcat do this?”

“Yeah,” Taylor said, snot running from his nose. “I . . . I crawled into the cave and didn't see the baby in the back. I was trying to chase it out of the cave when the mother came back and attacked me. I held her off with rocks for a while, but she was about to attack again when you and Cody came.”

Jake studied the wound. The bobcat had clawed Taylor's calf, and the blood flowed freely. The wound looked angry, and the leg had already swollen, showing signs of infection. Taylor's face was as pale as the quartzite that littered the cave floor.

Jake gave Taylor a drink of water and then had him lie back on his pack. Taylor winced as Jake rinsed out the wound with fresh water and, using gauze from the first aid kit, tied a pressure band over the wound. He considered tying a tourniquet, but remembered that they should only be used to stop extreme bleeding.

“I don't feel so good, Jake.”

Besides being pale, Taylor had started sweating profusely.

That wound's infected for sure,
Jake thought to himself.

“Do you think you can walk?”

“I . . . I don't think so.”

Jake pondered his options. He rechecked the first aid
kit, and though it held bandages, gauze, and a small tube of antibiotic, he didn't see anything that would help Taylor right now. Next he turned to their father's journal. Abe had reserved a whole section of it for notes on useful medicinal plants, and Jake had read it over many times. Skimming quickly through the pages, he spotted several plants that might help his brother.

He gripped Taylor's hand again. “Listen,” he said. “I'll get you settled, but then I have to go find us a couple of things. I promise I'll be back quickly, though, okay?”

Taylor nodded weakly, unable to argue.

Jake unrolled the sleeping bag he'd brought. He unzipped it and spread it wide like a blanket, then helped Taylor scoot over on top of it.

He told Cody, “You stay with Taylor,” but the terrier had already curled up protectively next to Taylor on the sleeping bag.

Jake emptied Taylor's day pack and stuffed their father's journal and the trenching tool inside. Then he set out toward a pine-covered hilltop a quarter of a mile away.

Jake wasn't sure what he would find, but along the trail he spotted several yarrow plants, with wispy grayish leaves and constellations of tightly spaced white flowers. He flipped through his dad's journal to make sure he was remembering correctly, and then he tore out several of the plants and stuffed them into Taylor's day pack.

Reaching the pine-covered hilltop, he again pulled out
the journal, looking for other plants that might help. At first he didn't see much. Then he stopped and examined a low-growing prickly leaved plant with green berries on it. He was pretty sure he remembered it, but he checked the journal again to make sure.

“Oregon grape,” he said. “Bingo.”

Pulling out the trenching tool, he began digging up several of the plants, cutting off and saving their yellow roots. When he had collected about a pound of them, he hurried back to the cave.

When he got there, Taylor looked even worse. The bleeding on his leg wound had stopped, but had begun to crust over, and the flesh around it looked red and inflamed. Taylor moaned softly, but he didn't seem fully conscious.

Jake built a small fire at the entrance to the cave, filled the small pot with the last of the water he'd brought, and set the pot at the edge of the flames. He pulled out the yarrow plants and began crushing them into a paste that he placed on some gauze from the first aid kit. When the water had almost boiled, he poured some of it over the gauze to form a kind of warm poultice that he placed directly onto Taylor's wound.

Taylor sat up and yelled with pain.

“It's okay! It's okay!” Jake soothed. “I'm just putting some medicine on your wound. Lie back down.”

When he and Cody had gotten Taylor settled again, Jake crushed up the Oregon grape roots and added them to the rest of the hot water in the pot. He let the mixture
steep and then strained the tealike mixture into the metal cup Skeet had given him.

When it had cooled, Jake tried a little of the drink himself. The tea tasted bitter, but medicinal somehow, and he took it over to Taylor. Jake put his arm under his brother's back and helped him into a sitting position.

“Here, Taylor, drink this.”

Taylor didn't seem to know where he was, but his lips parted when Jake pressed the cup against them. His father's journal had said to use the mixture sparingly, so Jake gave his brother only three or four sips and saved the rest for later. Then he lay Taylor back down and zipped him up in the sleeping bag.

Jake wasn't sure what the medicines would do—if they would do anything at all.

I should still probably go back and get Skeet,
he thought—but he didn't dare leave his brother right now. This wasn't what was supposed to happen when they left Pittsburgh to find their father. Jake was supposed to be making them safer, not putting them in even more danger. Exhausted from being up for more than twenty-four hours straight, Jake used his backpack as a pillow and lay down next to Taylor and Cody.

Please let Taylor be all right. Please!
he prayed as he drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

22
The next morning Jake woke to Taylor's moans. While the light was just beginning to creep over the horizon, he decided he'd better refill their empty water bottles and the cooking pot. He rebuilt the small fire outside of the cave and then turned to Cody.

“You keep standing guard,” Jake said. The terrier seemed to understand, and he didn't budge from Taylor's side.

Jake had to hike more than a mile back to a stream he'd crossed earlier. Along the way he stayed alert for signs of the bobcat, but he saw only a small group of elk a quarter mile off the sheep trail. After refilling their water bottles and the cooking pot, he returned to Taylor's side.

His heart pounding, he laid his hand on Taylor's forehead. To his relief, the skin felt cool from the morning
mountain air, and no longer burned with fever. Jake bent over to listen to his brother's now regular breathing.

Thank you! Thank you!
he prayed, though not sure exactly to whom. He also thanked the world for his dad's journal—without it, the situation could have been deadly.

Jake set about building a new fire and was feeding a dead pine bough onto it when he heard Taylor weakly call, “Jake?”

He turned to his brother. “Taylor, how are you feeling?”

“Hungry.”

Jake laughed.

“Is it morning?” Taylor asked. “Did the bobcat come back?”

“Yes—and no. You had a fever most of the night, but you look better now. Let me help you sit up.”

Jake helped Taylor into a sitting position.

“I feel woozy. What's this on my leg?” he asked, reaching down to the poultice.

“Some medicine—from yarrow plants.”

“You did this?”

“Yeah. Now just relax while I make us some food.”

Jake made Taylor drink more of the cold Oregon grape concoction, then boiled more water and stirred in a seven-grain cereal mixture Skeet had given him. Jake watched with relief as Taylor bolted down the meal, and afterward Jake helped his brother stand up.

“Do you think you can walk?”

Taylor took a couple of shaky steps.

“Just about,” Taylor said, grabbing on to Jake's arm.

“Awesome,” Jake said. “In that case, we should get back to Skeet before he sends out a search party!”

Jake cleaned up their camp, and the boys slowly set out back along the sheep trail. They reached the cabin just before noon, and they were surprised to find Skeet missing. Fifteen minutes later, though, they heard the Green Monster rumble up the mountain track. Jake and Cody went out to greet him.

“Did you find Taylor?” Skeet asked, leaping out of the truck.

“Yeah. He's inside resting on your bunk,” Jake said, explaining what had happened.

Skeet clapped him on the back. “I think you've got the makings of a first-class mountain man, Jake—or medicine man, at least. Let's go take a look at him.”

Skeet and Taylor went inside, where Skeet carefully removed the poultice from Taylor's leg to take a look. “You did a nice job with this, Jake. Still, I think we ought to run Taylor down to the clinic in town, maybe get him some antibiotics and have them clean out the wound properly.”

Jake and Taylor nodded.

“Also, I may have some good news for you,” Skeet added.

“What's that?” Taylor asked, sitting up on Skeet's bed.

“Well, I ran into town this morning for a few supplies, and also wanted to see if anyone might be looking for you boys. Stopped by a friend of mine at the park ranger office.”

“You didn't tell him about us, did you?” Jake asked, alarmed.

“Now, calm down. No, I didn't. I just told him I was there to say hello and asked if he'd been busy lately. However, it wasn't two minutes before he told me they were looking for two boys and a dog, and that apparently, someone had dropped by saying there was some news about their mother.”

“Mom!” Taylor shouted, his eyes darting to Jake.

Despite his brother's enthusiasm, Jake saw red flags. “How did he know that?”

“I don't really know,” Skeet answered. “I imagine he got some kinda alert through a social services agency, or maybe it came through the police.”

“What does it matter, Jake?” Taylor said, lowering his feet to the floor. “Maybe Mom's okay. Maybe we can get her to come out and join us once we find Dad!”

“I don't know. . . .”

Cody jumped up next to Taylor and did a little dance, sensing excitement in the room.

“What's not to know?” Taylor pressed. “Maybe Mom's looking for us.”

“Taylor,” Jake said. “It could be a trap. What if they just want to catch us and send us back to Pennsylvania?”

Taylor turned to Skeet. “Do you think it's a trap?”

Skeet stroked his beard. “This isn't my area of expertise,” he answered. “But I think it might be worth checking
out. I could drive you into town for a look around. If things seem sketchy, we can skedaddle on outta there.”