Chapter 6: Two Big Bears

"The nearest town was far away. Laura and Mary had never seen a town. They had never seen a store. They had never seen even two houses standing together. But they knew that in a town there were many houses, and a store full of candy and calico and other wonderful things--powder, and shot, and salt, and store sugar.

They knew that Pa would trade his furs to the storekeeper for beautiful things from town, and all day they were expecting the presents he would bring them. When the sun sank low above the treetops and no more drops fell from the tips of the icicles they began to watch eagerly for Pa."

The winter is almost over and Pa bundles his fur catch together for the long hike into town. He is carrying so much weight that he has to leave his gun behind. But he plans to walk fast, do his trading quickly, and get back before dark.

But something goes wrong and Pa doesn't return. Time for chores and Pa is still not back. Ma and Laura go out to milk the cow and find her in the barnyard instead of the barn. Ma gives Sukey a slap, only to realize the next moment that it is actually a bear in the barnyard, not Sukey. The bear is just as startled as they are, and they're able to get back to the house in safety.

The next morning Pa is home and is able to tell of his adventures. He was delayed by the wet, heavy snow and got to town late so there were many men in line ahead of him. By the time he finished his trading it was almost sundown, and the last light faded after he'd gone only a mile.

Pa walked by the light of the stars until he reached an open place and saw a big bear in the middle of the road, standing up on its hind legs. Pa tried to scare it, but the bear refused to budge and Pa finally had to attack it with a sturdy tree branch. It was then he discovered the bear was an old, burnt-out tree stub.

How Mary and Laura laugh to hear of Pa's adventures the night before, and how happy Ma and the girls are to have Pa back safely. They love the new fabric Pa has brought for each one to have a beautiful new dress.

Thoughts:
Bears are in somewhat short supply in North Dakota these days, and even if they were still here, they'd be Grizzly bears and not friendlier black bears. So bear slapping was definitely out as a possibility, even though I love that in this chapter it is Ma who has the adventure while Pa is out beating shrubbery with a club.

I was interested in the fact that Mary and Laura had never been to town--that they could remember--and the town was only 7 miles away. Granted, this was 7 miles in the thick, dark woods, not on the prairie where you can see til next Tuesday, but still... And that probably meant it had been a long, LONG time since Ma had been to town either. So in sympathy with their lack of transportation, I decided to walk from my house to town.

"Pa said that by starting before sun-up and walking very fast all day he could get home before dark."

The nearest town is only 10 miles away; I can see the town's grain elevator from my house. I've walked longer distances than that before and I wouldn't even have to wade through melting snow to get there. I planned to walk in, rest for a while, and then walk back. Since I had no furs to pack, I brought furry animals, which is almost the same thing. Laura and I left about 6:15 in the morning, not quite still dark, but the sun wasn't up yet and the whole prairie was covered with a soft mist.



I had to return to the house several times to grab items I forgot, including my cell phone---somehow I doubt Pa had that problem. Finally, it was off to Westby, Laura and I walking and the dogs running in circles around us. The sun rose shortly after we left and bathed the prairie in a beautiful light. It was a gorgeous morning and I felt lucky to be out in it. Laura felt whiny.

After about two miles, someone who shall remain anonymous became acutely interested in the physical processes of friction and what happens when you start out on a 10 mile walk in borrowed hiking boots that go past your ankle with paper-thin socks that don't go past your ankle. Mother-love was seriously strained, but I traded socks with this someone because I was wearing lower shoes.

We had walked for a very long way before I remembered one other item I forgot to bring. A roll of Sears Roebuck Catalog. And it would have been nice to have right about then. But we were passing an old, collapsed farm building, so while Laura sat on the rock pile and tried to pretend she didn't exist, I--ahem--admired the scenery on the other side of the building.

When I was finished, I walked along the building to the front where Laura was. I like to poke around in old things, so I was bending down to get a better look at the inside when something, I have no idea what, alerted my senses to a life form in the grass and debris about 8 feet away. It was black. And white. In the same instance this peculiar fact penetrated my brain, I also became aware of a particularly familiar musky smell. From here the two eye-witness accounts vary slightly, but Laura is a flighty person given to exaggeration, so I feel comfortable that my account is the one with greater accuracy.

Calmly, with a voice soft and low as gentle breeze, I told Laura, "Laura, do not be alarmed. There is a skunk. Let us move quickly and quietly to the road." At the same time, I backed in a non-threatening and orderly fashion far enough away from the skunk that I could turn and saunter up to the road.

Laura says, "Mom, I was about to tell you to look at the cat. I didn't even know it was a skunk until I heard you yelling and saw you running away. THEN I ran." A likely story, but since I had to creep down there and retrieve the glove I left in my hasty exit, I think there might be some truth to her version of events.

I'm sure God was blessing us because even though the dogs were running freely through the area and all around the building, they never saw the skunk. If they had, ALL of us would have been very sad, especially those of us engaged in activities that would have prevented hasty retreats.

Laura thought it would have been hilarious if the skunk had sprayed me, but I was at one corner of the house, she was on the large rock in the middle, and the skunk was at the other corner. The maximum effective range for skunk spray is 20 feet, so as you can see from the picture, Laura wouldn't have found it quite so funny if it had actually happened.

Not too long after this, one of my dogs, Anika, ran out of energy. Finley was still determinedly leaping through the fields, but Anika has a health problem and she was finished. I sent out an emergency call on my pioneer cell phone, and not long after my dad showed up to pick her up. Only he brought his Beautiful Border Collie Baby Jackie, so we still had two dogs. SHE had all her energy and we were almost to the main road, so I let her off her leash to get the wiggles out. And how! Afterward she came, collapsed in a small snow pile, and took a snow bath to cool off.

Westby came into full view at last and only 3 miles to go. These were by far the longest miles of the trip. One sad trick of the prairie is to make things look much closer than they are, so even though we could see the finish line so clearly, it still took forever to get there. But all good things must come to an end, and at last we reached our destination.

However, my suffering was not yet over because now I had to endure comments like, "I bet Pa didn't collapse on the couch when he got to town." And the plan to walk back home was cast off without regret. I'm sure Pa would have done the same thing if he had a Bad Knee from an Old Injury.

So in the end, Pa, Ma, and I each had our own wild animal encounters. I guess I'd rather meet a skunk than a bear, but what a choice! I'm feeling much more grateful for modern methods of transportation that allow us to make a trip, without a second's thought, that once was the event of the whole year. I think my Laura is a little more grateful now, too!

Journey's End---Almost!