Pack Trip (11 page)

That, naturally, led to races for the Frisbee, more than a few dunkings, and finally to an all-out splash battle. When everybody was clean, soaking wet, and nicely exhausted, they pulled themselves out of the lake, spread out their towels, and lay down in the warm sunshine.

The last one out of the lake was Mel. She stood near everybody’s towels and shook herself dry. Then she barked.

“What’s up, girl?” Eli asked. Mel barked some more in answer.

Everybody sat up and looked around. They’d learned the night before, if they hadn’t known it already, that Mel knew when something was going on. If there was danger around, she’d know it first, so they couldn’t afford to ignore her.

Stevie sniffed the air. There was no smell of smoke.

Carole scanned the countryside. She didn’t see any
smoke or flames, nor were there any dangerous animals in sight.

And then they all heard the sound of an airplane. Soon a small plane appeared through a pass in the mountains that surrounded the valley, flying low, as if it were searching for something.

“It’s looking for us!” Jeannie declared.

“Oh, of course,” Eli said, realizing what was going on. “My friends with the ranch, where we started out, must have called the authorities to tell them what our plans were. They want to be sure we weren’t caught in the fire. Too bad we don’t have a radio, or we could let them know we’re okay.”

“Who needs a radio when we’ve got a whole lake?” Stevie asked.

Stevie was in action before anybody had a chance to ask what she was doing. There were times, Lisa knew, when you just did what Stevie asked and didn’t make trouble. It always seemed to work out. This, she suspected, was one of those times, so when Stevie shooed everybody back into the water, everybody obeyed willingly.

“Two teams of four!” she declared. “You four, make a circle. Hold hands.” Carole, Christine, John, and Jeannie did as they were told. “Now, this part is a little trickier.
Eli, you and I are the upright of the K. Kate and Lisa, you each have to be the lines that go from the center.…”

That was when Lisa figured it out. They were spelling OK for the pilot of the plane, and they were doing it in the water because the bottom of the lake was dark, and the shape of the letters would stand out better there.

“Eli, make a straight line with me, or they’ll think we’re asking for an ox!”

“Aye, aye, Stevie,” Eli joked, saluting with his free hand.

All eight of the swimmers watched the plane, waiting for some kind of signal that the pilot understood. The plane soared through the sky, zooming along the valley toward the campsite, and then it got to the lake. It seemed to Lisa that the plane was almost suspended above them, though of course it was really moving quite fast. Then, as they all watched, the pilot made a traditional salute, acknowledging receipt of their message by dipping each of his wings in turn. Then he banked and switched directions, leaving the valley the same way he’d come.

“We did it!” Stevie shrieked joyously, swimming back to shore and the comfort of her towel.

“Boy, it’s a good thing we weren’t in trouble,” Kate
remarked as she dried herself. “There aren’t enough of us to spell SOS.”

“Even with Amy and Seth,” Lisa added.

“No problem there,” Stevie said. “Those two spell SOS all by themselves!”

O
NE ADVANTAGE THEY
’
D
gained by their night journey away from the forest fire was that they had traveled a full day’s distance in the dark of night and, ironically, that put them one full day ahead of schedule. In practical terms that meant that they could stay in this campsite all day long, since they didn’t need to leave it until the next morning. From there it was just a few hours’ ride back along the valley to Eli’s friend’s ranch. They could relax and play all day long, so when John announced that he had brought a couple of kites with him, they immediately formed informal teams for a kite-flying contest. They were involved in a heated, if friendly, argument about whether duration or height was more important by the time they reached the campsite. In fact, it was getting so heated, if friendly, that they almost missed hearing the approaching sounds of a helicopter. It was, as usual, Mel who brought it to their attention.

Immediately the eight swimmers ran to an open grassy area to re-form their well-practiced “OK.” It didn’t stop
the helicopter from landing, scattering the horses away from the aircraft’s loud, flapping propeller.

A distinguished-looking middle-aged man hopped out of the door of the helicopter.

“Where are my children?” the man demanded, running up to the now disassociated “OK.”

There was only one person in the world it could be, only one person who would be so demanding, so insensitive to the animals he’d frightened or to the people he was being rude to.

“Amy and Seth are at the campsite,” Stevie told him. Eli pointed the way. Without another word the man strode off in the direction Eli had pointed.

Seth and Amy appeared with their father just moments later, walking directly toward the helicopter. They didn’t hesitate or stop to say good-bye. They just climbed aboard.

Their father, on the other hand, stopped in front of Eli and put his hands on his hips. “What kind of trip leader are you?” he demanded. “You take this group of children out into the wilderness and let them get trapped by a killer forest fire? You’ll be sorry you treated my children this way, I tell you. You’ll be hearing from my lawyer!”

Without waiting for a response, and everybody there was sure that Eli had one, Seth and Amy’s father spun on
his heels and aimed directly for the helicopter. His foot slipped on the steps, and his dignity slipped with it. Nobody laughed—at least not until after the door was closed and the helicopter began to rise from the ground.

For a fraction of a second, the thought crossed Stevie’s mind that Amy and Seth should come back because their leaving meant that everybody else was going to have to do their work and take care of their horses. The thought passed quickly though, and then all Stevie felt was tremendous relief.

“Hip, hip hooray!” Lisa shouted at the top of her lungs. Everybody else joined in. Even Mel barked.

“N
OW ABOUT THAT
kite-flying contest …” John brought everybody’s attention away from the disappearing helicopter and back to the important issue of the day.

Although there was plenty of work to be done around the campsite, like airing out wet and smoky clothes and bedding, and sorting items that had been mashed into packs so they could be loaded quickly, to say nothing about figuring out what food was left for them to eat for the last day of the trip, there were also a lot of fun things to be done, and everybody wanted to see to it that they got done—all of them.

First, they flew kites. One snapped its string and sailed off into the sky. Stevie opined that that was definitely the
highest and longest flight. Everybody else was laughing too hard to argue with her. Then they exercised their horses by riding bareback. Since Christine frequently rode bareback, she was the best at it and gave them all tips.

“It’s the best way there is to feel the movement of the horse. There’s no saddle between you and him, so you can tell everything with your legs. It’s also easier to talk to him with your legs.”

At first Lisa had some trouble with the bareback riding. She hadn’t had much practice at it and found she missed the saddle for balance.

“It’s a little like riding a bicycle,” Carole told her. “Once you realize you have to go with the movement of the horse instead of trying to compensate for it, as you can in a saddle with stirrups, you’ll do fine. You’ll also do better in the saddle as a result.”

Lisa tried it. First, she slipped to the right and had to hold onto Chocolate’s mane to keep from slipping right off.

“It’s a good thing horses don’t have nerves in their manes,” Stevie remarked, looking at Lisa’s white knuckles clutching at the thick black hairs of the horse’s mane.

“And I wish I didn’t have nerves in my …” Lisa countered, straightening herself up.

“Oh yes, you do,” Carole told her. “It’s really important to feel with your seat and your legs. Just relax and let it be natural.”

“Natural, natural, natural,” Lisa told herself while Chocolate trotted easily in a large circle. She found that the tempo of her own voice began to match the pace of Chocolate’s gait, and that her own movements, slight though they were, began to match those of the horse. It was as if she were trotting along with her.

“You’re doing it!” Carole said excitedly. “I can see. You’ve got it!”

“I do!” Lisa agreed. “I think the secret is to let the horse do the work. I’m just along for the ride, right?”

“Right,” Stevie echoed. “Nice job!”

Lisa was proud of the work she’d done, even though it mostly consisted of letting the horse do the work. Using her legs to signal Chocolate, she brought her to a walk and then a stop. She leaned forward and patted her on the neck. “Good girl,” she said.

“Good girl to you,” Christine added. “Next time we’ll try that at a lope.”

Although Lisa was pleased with her bareback trotting, she thought she’d be able to wait quite a while to try bareback loping!

*  *  *

L
UNCH AT THE
campsite was more than a little odd. It seemed that most of what they’d been able to pack up before their dash from the approaching fire was potato chips and fresh fruit. Eli and Jeannie hinted that they were saving something good for dinner, so the riders weren’t too concerned about their stomachs. Besides, as the morning’s fisherwomen pointed out, they’d had a magnificent breakfast.

In the afternoon they went swimming again and then took a relaxed hike through the valley. Lisa and Christine collected wildflowers. Some, they said, they were going to dry and take home. Others were selected to adorn their dinner table that evening.

“What dinner table?” Stevie asked. “We don’t have a dinner table.”

“Since when did you get so particular about particulars?” Lisa joked. “Don’t worry, we’ll find something to adorn!”

Stevie smiled and shrugged. She and Kate were chatting about competition riding. Stevie wanted to get some ideas from her about the aspects of competition that went beyond riding skills.

“So tell me about psyching out the other riders.” Stevie said.

“There are a million theories,” Kate replied. “They range from hot speaking to any of the other riders until the competition is over, to being friendly with everybody, and everything in between. Personally, I found that the only way I could compete successfully was to be myself and to ride the best I knew how.”

That, Stevie decided, was the best way to do it.

Carole and John walked together, behind the others. They, too, talked about horses. They talked about riding them, about training them, about breeding them, about owning them, and everything else about them they could think of. Carole was always happy talking about horses, and she found herself feeling particularly happy to be talking about horses with John. She was so content to be near her friends and with John, that when he took her hand and squeezed it gently, it seemed to be the most natural thing in the world. She squeezed back and smiled to herself.

“So, now, tell me more about how you’re finishing Starlight’s training,” John said.

Carole was only too happy to do so.

*  *  *

D
INNER TURNED OUT
to be just as odd, and just as nice, as lunch had been. Jeannie and Eli had found a few cans of hash and a few cans of beans. They mixed them together and made a strange sort of stew.

“I think if my mother put this in front of me at home, I’d just throw it out,” Stevie said.

“You don’t like my cooking?” Jeannie asked, pretending to be hurt.

“No, that’s not what I meant at all,” Stevie told her. “Look at my plate—it’s empty. I’ll even have more if there is any. It tastes great to me.”

“Must be the wood fire,” Eli said. “That always gives everything a great taste.”

“What you mean is that it makes everything smoky, so that when you make a weird mixture like hash and beans, it just tastes like smoke,” Kate suggested.

“Would you like seconds, too?” Eli asked.

“You bet!” Kate told him.

When the last of the hash and beans was gone, Eli stood up in front of all his riders circling the camp fire. He began talking in his strongest, phoniest cowboy drawl.

“It’s tahm fo’ an ole cowpoke tradition,” he said, drawing out each word slowly.

“Ghost stories?” Stevie asked eagerly.

“Nah,” Eli scoffed. “It’s gonna be tall tales, and s’mores.”

“You mean we get to lie—and eat
real
food?”

“A-yep!” Eli confirmed.

“Bring on the marshmallows!”

The Saddle Club girls thought of themselves as being particularly good with tall tales. In fact, it was a tradition at Pine Hollow to make up stories about the owner Max Regnery’s grandfather. Stevie considered herself the all-time champion, so she declared that she would go first.

She told the riders the story of the discovery of Victoria Pass—the very place they were camping.