Conclusion to Chapter 8

The following is the conclusion of Chapter 8 from Flight from Big Tangle, by Sault Ste. Marie's Anita Daher.

An Orca Young Reader, the paperback costs $6.95 and is available at Dunns Authors and the Bushplane Museum.

It's also expected to be available soon at Coles.

This material is copyright and appears on SooToday.com by permission of the author.

****************************************************************** The pain in her ankle had almost worked itself out, and she quickened her pace. Around a twist in the path, she stopped to push aside a few willow shoots, and stepped into a small clearing. Poplar branches had woven themselves into a leafy roof, making a green cave. A few stumps in the centre surrounded what was left of a small circle of stones. She coughed, the air heavy with old dust. The stones had been kicked around a bit, and inside what must have been a fire pit, runners of Creeping Charlie wound around each other, over and under, tiny purple flowers peeking from heart shaped leaves.

She had never been in this clearing before.

"This is not good," she said, her voice hoarse, her throat dry and scratchy.

Better backtrack to where she had found the fireweed. As she retraced her path, she listened carefully to the distant vibration of aircraft. Occasionally, a gust of wind above the treetops would bring the engine noise much closer. She watched her feet, placing one sneaker in front of the other, bouncing her worries backward and forward, hoping the fire was almost out, anxious that it might not be.

When she got to the old pop can, she paused again. She hadn’t noticed before, but another path lead from this spot – one that looked like it went slightly up hill.

"Yes!" she cried, relief washing over her. This had to be the right path!

Watching for stray roots, she jogged up the trail. She would be back on her hill in no time. Better hurry. Mom would be worried, and Jack would be searching for her. Around a corner she came to another fork. One path disappeared into the tangled brush to her right, and another one continued up the slope.

"Just keep climbing, Kaylee," she breathed. The opening of the new path was plush with moss, and gated with ferns. As she barreled her way past, she chided herself for running helter-skelter through the woods. That was a number one way to get lost!

A grade niner had gone missing in the woods a few years back. She didn’t know him, but heard that he used to go hunting all the time. One day he was out with his dad and cousins pushing bush, trying to drive out deer, only he didn’t come out where he was supposed to. They never found him. He must have panicked, she thought. The RCMP started their "Hug a Tree" program right after that.

Kaylee came to another off-shoot in the path – one with a fallen over jack pine not too far ahead.

"Almost there," she puffed, and began running along the mostly clay offshoot. Where the path was blocked she stopped, and climbed carefully over the prickly branches of the dead tree. Her shirt was sticky with sweat, and blackflies buzzed all around her neck. On the other side she stopped, confused. The path ended at a wide, open area. This wasn’t her hill, she realized with growing dread. She walked into the clearing, eyes glued to the sky, mouth sour. The smoke cloud looked about twice as big as before and was mostly brown and black. She thought she could see orange in it too. It was close.

The wind whipped around the clearing, bending treetops at its edge. Ashes fluttered past, some sticking to the damp of her shirt.

"Wildfire!"