Chapter One ~ Camp on Champion Creek

as told to Patk by Hallie Belden

Hallie Belden wiped down the inside of a large metal pan and draped a damp dish towel over the rim. She took a similar towel from her cousin Trixie and draped over the other side of the pan.

“I think that’s it, Trix. Dishes done. Thanks for helping. I’m so glad that we had this opportunity to giggle and gab—just the two of us.”

“We all share with the chores at home but I’m usually stuck alone in the kitchen doing the dishes. It took no time with you.” Trixie wiped her hands on the jeans. “And it was fun catching up, too.” Trixie laughed and hugged her cousin. “To giggle and gab.”

Hallie knew that, despite their closeness in age and their fathers being brothers, Trixie had always been a bit jealous and suspicious of her. The little time they had spent together over the years Trixie had never been welcoming. Her mother had insisted that Trixie was jealous but it was Hallie who had always been envious of the slightly older girl. She was thrilled that their days of mistrust and conflict were in the past.

Hallie couldn’t understand anyone being jealous of her, much less Trixie. While adults often commented on the exotic dark looks she had inherited from her father and her mother, she was often mistaken as Native American, which, in Idaho, created suspicion, ostracism and bullying. She didn’t understand how anyone could be envious of thick straight black hair and dark eyes that never sparkled the way Knut’s did. Tall and thin like her brothers, Hallie always had stood head and shoulders above every girl and most of the boys in her school. A sudden growth spurt during the past school year had resulted in merciless teasing.

Hallie longed to be a petite blonde, with naturally curly hair and round blue eyes, with family and friends like Trixie’s. She knew that Trixie bemoaned her short stature and freckles, but there were just enough freckles sprinkled across her cheeks to give her character and being short was far preferable to being taller than every boy you met, other than your brothers.

And Trixie had parents who cared and supported their children unconditionally. Their Hudson Valley farmhouse had belonged to Beldens for multiple generations and was the most welcoming home that Hallie had ever visited. She often imagined what life would be like if her own father, the oldest of the three Belden brothers, had remained in New York and her family lived at Crabapple Farm instead of Trixie’s. She’d heard once that, prior to much of the original farmstead being parceled off and sold years ago, her grandfather had envisioned all of his children building their own homes on that property. Hallie couldn’t imagine her mother living in Sleepyside but its proximity to New York City might have kept her home more. She spent as little time as possible at their house in Idaho.

Today, Uncle Peter and Aunt Helen were living in the updated farmhouse with neighbors and plenty of children living nearby, while she and her brothers were often left alone in a sprawling glass and stone ranch house designed by their mother and a team of famous architects and located miles from the nearest neighbors. Trixie and her brothers complained about living five miles from the town of Sleepyside, but try living that far or more from the nearest neighbor.

Aunt Helen was a full-time homemaker. While she had outside interests, her home and family were the center of her life. Peter Belden was a banker in nearby Sleepyside and, while he occasionally might travel for work, he was home for dinner with his family almost every evening.

Hallie’s father worked for an international mining company. While their headquarters was in Idaho, he traveled to sites all over the world. Obviously unhappy in Idaho, Hallie’s mother accompanied him as often as she could, leaving the children under the care of their housekeeper, Ollie, while Knut, as the oldest child, often served as a surrogate parent. Several ranch hands who resided in a bunkhouse cared for the property but Hallie rarely even saw them. Perpetually battling over something, Hallie usually preferred her mother’s absences, but she was furious when her mother chose to travel to South America with her father rather than stay and welcome their relatives from New York. Aunt Helen would never have abandoned her children and their guests that way.

Hallie’s recent visit to New York while her parents were in Switzerland had begun with the usual conflicts with Trixie, but they quickly were overcome and the two now bonded more as sisters than cousins. Hallie also had become fast friends with Trixie’s friends Honey Wheeler and Diana Lynch, and she’d been welcomed by Jim Frayne, Dan Mangan and Trixie’s brothers Mart and Brian. They’d even made her an honorary member of their club, Bob-Whites of the Glen.

“I’m so glad that you all were able to come.” Hallie waved her hand towards the group sitting around the near-by fire. “I had so much fun in Sleepyside, Cap and Knut have been jealous about our adventures together ever since I got home, and I’d love for them to cement their relationships with Brian and Mart the way we have.”

Hallie had cried when it was time to leave her friends and family in New York as well as when they’d arrived at the airport earlier than day. She was tearing up again. “I’m sure this week will be—what does Honey always say? Perfectly perfect.”

Both girls laughed heartily as they headed towards the fire.

Mart Belden was tossing a log onto the campfire. Sparks exploded upward, flashing into brief, bright life against a starry sky.

Trixie took a seat between Knut and Jim and murmured a regretful “ah-h” as the sparks descended into the ashes.

The sound was echoed by Hallie, who sat down next to Brian. Her sigh was quickly followed by their friends; by her brothers, Knut, Cap; and even by their chaperone, Miss Trask.

“Good job, Mart,” said Miss Trask. “Not that I’m an expert on bonfires, by any means.”

It doesn’t take an expert,” Mart said, to see that this is no ordinary, smoke-in-your eyes, ashes-in-your-food bonfire. It’s a fire with vitality…character. It’s—”

“What’s the difference?” Hallie asked. “I seem to remember plenty of good picnic fires in New York.”

“My cousin has a point,” said Mart. “Even on Champion Creek in northern Idaho, fire is fire. As usual, you have your heat and visible light emanating from a body during the process of its combustion. Also as usual…”

As Mart began one of his more pompous explanations, Trixie interrupted, “No Mart it’s not usual—not at all.”

Just beyond the reach of firelight, Hallie could hear the stirrings and rustlings of the forest and its familiar inhabitants. She knew that day hunters were settled into nests and burrows and night predators prowled. While never overconfident in the wilds of northern Idaho, Hallie trusted her brothers to keep her safe. She did notice that Trixie shivered and edged closer to Knut, so she did the same.

Looking over at Knut, she realized that Knut looked enough like Brian to be a brother instead of a cousin.

Knut was from the handsome, dark side of the family that included her own father, Trixie’s father, and Brian. Knut’s wavy black hair was slightly longer than Brian’s, worn brushed back from his forehead like bird wings at rest, and he was a few years older, but the resemblance was remarkable. She watched the firelight glinting off Knut’s thick heavy glasses and wondered if Brian might also need them and she’d just never seen him with them. Of course, at well over six feet tall, Knut towered over Brian and everyone else nearby.

Hallie adored her older brother. During her visit to Crabapple Farm, Trixie had told her that her voice dripped with unabashed pride each time she mentioned him. While she also loved Cap, their relationship was far different.

Capelton “Cap” Belden lay on the ground, feet toward the fire, while the rest of the group perched on logs and flat stones. Somewhat shorter and with much lighter coloring, Cap looked nothing like his sibling. He wore his long brown hair tied with a leather thong at the nape of a strong neck. From the minute the Bob-Whites had stepped off the plane that morning in Wallace, Idaho, Hallie had been aware that both Brian and Mart were trying not to notice Cap’s swinging ponytail. After a brief suspicious glance, Trixie had seemed to not notice it.

Cap always wore jeans and Indian moccasins. His tan leather jacket dangled fringes. Without appearing outlandish, Cap fitted the here and now. The here was high in Idaho’s mountains. The now was a starlit August Monday night. Of course, most adults, teachers and school administrators, were less accepting.

Barely able to sit still, Trixie exclaimed how ecstatic she was for this sudden break in the end-of summer routine on Crabapple Farm. “Do you realize that less than two days ago, I was scalding and skinning tomatoes for canning in the blistering heat? How I loathe that job! But now, I’m almost an entire continent away, enjoying a campfire in the wilderness with the most wonderful people in the world! Bless Honey’s father for his generosity!”

Matt Wheeler was aware of their desire to visit Idaho when he learned of a business conference in Seattle. He offered the remaining seats of the company’s plane to Honey and her friends. Of course, the entire trip was in jeopardy when it was learned that neither of Hallie’s parents would be at home during the visit.

After several frantic phone calls, Trixie finally shared that they had persuaded Miss Trask to accompany them. Honey’s former governess and now manager of the Wheeler estate was eager to learn more about the Idaho wilderness. Because she so seldom interfered with their plans, Miss Trask was always the Bob-Whites’ first choice for chaperone.

Trixie interrupted Hallie’s thoughts when she called across the circle, “Hallie, Dan said to tell you ‘hi’. He wishes he could have come.”

“Thanks, Trix. I was kind of hoping he could, too.” Hallie sighed. She definitely was disappointed that Dan wasn’t there.

Dan Mangan was the only Bob-White who had not been able to fly west, due to a job as counselor at an upstate boys’ camp. He had explained to Hallie during her visit in New York, that he was on probation for past delinquent criminal behavior and was working hard at school and in community service to eventually have his record sealed or, preferably, expunged entirely. Those efforts, plus a part-time job meant that he missed out on many Bob-White activities.

Hallie noticed that, at the mention of a boy’s name, her brothers had glanced at each other, but they said nothing. She knew that Mart never missed an opportunity to tease Trixie, but Knut and Cap knew not to trigger her anger. Of course, they might have some questions later.

Knut shifted weight and stared upward at the sky-scraping pines. After a while, he said, “Stars, hide your fires.” His tone was as conversational as if he had said, “Please pass the butter.”

“Jeepers,” breathed Trixie, “Did you make that up?”

“Nope,” Knut answered good-naturedly.

“Shakespeare beat him to it,” Jim guessed.

“Nothing wrong with quoting a little Shakespeare,” said Hallie, staring proudly at Knut, who often quoted Shakespeare and other great writers. “Especially MacBeth.”

Hallie wondered why Knut had chosen that particular passage. He had explained once to her that the line is part of a soliloquy that reveals significant elements of MacBeth’s ambition and inner conflict. She hoped that her older brother was experiencing troubling feelings.

“Where did you learn Shakespeare?” Brian interrupted her thoughts. “We don’t study Macbeth until 12^th grade in New York.”

“We’re so isolated in the winter, there’s not much to do at home other than read. Cap gets out quite a bit, but both he and Knut have read our father’s set of Shakespeare cover to cover. I haven’t read much of it but they’re always sharing famous quotes and their meanings.” Honey glanced over at Mart.

“I know that Mart often quotes Shakespeare but I don’t think he always understands it.”

Hallie let out her unique gurgling chuckle which caused the others to smile with her. She clapped her hands, then made a welcoming gesture that included the Bob-Whites and Miss Trask.

“I’m so glad you’re here that I’m just busting my buttons trying to think what to share with you first!”

“Something edible?” Mart suggested helpfully.

Cap looked astounded. “Wasn’t that you who just ate three hot dogs in buns?” he asked.

Mart tried to sound deeply wounded. “My own cousin, mine host, actually counts the morsels with which I barely maintain this emaciated body!”

“You’re about as emaciated as a hippo,” Trixie snorted.

“Well, I’m just a little dry,” Mart said hastily. “There’s some watermelon in the creek that I just know—”

Knut started to rise but Hallie motioned her brother to sit down. “Later,” she promised. “We’ll have the melon later.”

While she couldn’t explain exactly why she’d stopped him, Hallie sensed that there was a wild animal nearby. Hoping it wasn’t dangerous; she looked to Cap for confirmation.

“We will if we beat that porcupine to it,” Cap said, confirming her suspicions.

“What porcupine?” Di squealed.

“Ssh!” Cap warned.

In the silence that fell, they could hear the grumbling and chittering of a porcupine. There were other sounds, too. A whistle and a snort.

“There’s a deer close by,” Knut whispered. “Something startled it.”

“What’s that bawling sound?” Trixie tried to whisper, but Hallie could hear the fear in her voice.

“Bear cub,” Knut whispered back.

“That means its mother is hanging around, too?” Trixie asked, edging closer to Knut.

“Or soon will be,” Knut said.

There was another sound; one totally unfamiliar to Hallie.

Cap seemed to float up into a sitting position. His brown eyes became as alert as those of a fox. Not a sound betrayed his own presence. Hallie had seen him react this way a few times in the past and she knew to be concerned. She watched as Cap and Knut exchanged knowing glances.

A twig snapped. The bear cub squalled again. Hallie watched as Trixie and the others’ bodies stiffened.

Knut looked over to her and nodded that there was reason to be concerned. The bear cub sounded scared.

Hallie and her brothers had camped here many times in the past and were familiar with night sounds. They were set up in a parklike glade beside Champion Creek where it tumbled down a steep, narrow gulch. Sounds from the surrounding forest often were funneled to the campground as if through a megaphone. Knut held up his hand signaling them to remain silent as they listened in silence to series of grunts, barks and wails… a sharp whistle… a coaxing suka, suka.

Then, after a long breathless wait, they were brought to attention by a drawn-out agoouummm.

Hallie hadn’t a clue what might have made the last sound.

“It’s going away,” Knut finally said.

“What was it?” asked Jim. “What animals do you have around here?”

“Oh, the usual,” Knut responded. “Cougar, deer, elk, brown bear, skunk, whistling marmot.”

Hallie knew his ignoring the first question was intentional and was determined to learn why.

“I thought a marmot was a kind of rodent,” Trixie ventured.

“It is,” Cap said.

“Well, that was an awfully big sound,” Trixie declared.

“Maybe it was an awfully big rat,” said Di nervously. Hallie thought the same thing.

“Maybe,” Cap said. He snapped a dry stick. The sound echoed like a gunshot.

It suddenly became so quiet that the only sound Hallie could hear the burble of the water that swirled around large white rocks in the stream. While the dim half-light of the firelight reflected off the teens’ faces, Hallie could see nothing but black-dark beyond the area where they sat.

Suddenly, Trixie broke the silence. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’ll never enjoy this week unless I know exactly where we are at this very moment; where I’ll be when I put my head on my pillow, and where I might be when I wake up tomorrow.”

“Exactly where are we anyway?” she asked. “Gleeps, we went around so many curves after we left Wallace this morning, I decided you were taking us to the moon.”

Cap laughed as he leaned back against a log and stretched his legs out towards the fire. “We did, cousin. We took you to the Moon and kept right on going.”

Hallie laughed when she saw the confused look on Trixie’s face.

Knut reached over to gather both her hands for a quick, reassuring squeeze. “The pass is called Moon, as is a creek. Cap’s just trying to rattle you.”

“Like a birdbrain,” Hallie added. She loved calling Cap that name.

“We’re in northern Idaho’s St. Joe National Forest,” Knut went on. “You may have seen the trail signs as we drove in this morning. Most of the northern half of Idaho is covered with the largest stand of virgin white pine remaining in the United States. This area is divided into five national forests. The Kaniksu and Coeur d’Alene stretch from the Canadian border to the mining region. Next comes Joe, covering all that space between the Bitterroot Range on Montana’s border to the wheatlands on the west. The mines are largely in the Coeur d’Alene Mountains and the St. Joe is the next range south. This forest keeps marching south to cow country.”

As Knut stood to point out imaginary compass points in the sky, his shadow grew to monstrous proportion and moved crazily when the flames leaped.

Trixie glanced over at Hallie to see her reaction. “Gleeps Hallie, Knut looks like a prehistoric man claiming his territory.”

“This is our home—our territory, cousin,” Hallie tried to explain. “I guess our roots are anchored in this rocky land just as firmly as yours are in the Hudson River valley.”

“All around us,” Knut said quietly, “there are peaks that belong to eagles and valleys where animals aren’t afraid of men. There’s mystery and treasure, adventure, danger, and quiet that stretches from earth to sky.”

“That sounds like poetry,” Miss Trask said.

“And I’ll bet it isn’t Shakespeare,” added Honey.

“It isn’t,” Knut admitted. “Thank you.”

After Knut sat down again, Trixie said, “Pinch me, somebody! I must be dreaming. I don’t have to feed those stupid hens when I wake up tomorrow!” She joined the others’ laughter at her expense.

“Nobody could accuse Trixie Belden of enjoying chores,” Mart added. “Mystery is her interest, first, last, and always—and, oh, this Joe Country must hold a thousand unsolved mysteries. Watch out, cousins.”

Hallie noticed Trixie rubbing her bare arms. Were those goosebumps? What was the cause? Or did Trixie really have a sixth sense for mystery and danger?

At that moment, an eerie cry that originated at the head of the canyon hit the unseen cliffs and echoed endlessly: “fleep…fleeoweep-p-p!”

Cap jumped up and began feeding the fire with reckless haste.

“You’re using the morning kindling, birdbrain,” Hallie started to object when she realized that she’d never heard that sound before, but Cap had.

“So what?” Cap shot back. “Look, I cut this. I can split more.” Fire gobbled the dry pitch Cap threw. Light increased in intensity, and so did Cap’s efforts. Hallie stood and joined him.

Without understanding why, Mart, Brian and Jim began to throw on all the dry, small wood scraps they could find in the circle of light. Knut moved to the outer edge of the lighted area and stared up the dark slot of the canyon.

Trixie hunched alone on the log that Knut and Jim had deserted while Di and Honey huddled together for comfort.

“I know we’ll hear that cry again. I know it,” Trixie managed to say.

They did. This time it came from a much closer spot just beyond those white rocks. “fleep…fleeoweep-p-p!”

When Hallie pulled in her breath to keep from screaming, she choked on the nauseating smell-taste of rotten fish and dead field mice, not knowing what it might be.