Chapter 5

Sara had busied herself after the last journal entry she had read. She had cooked her lunch, collected and boiled more water, cleaned her dishes, texted with her husband, and was now ready to read more from Herschel Allen. 

Her mind was still reeling from what had been written in the last entry. What could an experienced trapper and his partner have seen that had them both confused and frightened? She sat down at the table with a fresh cup of coffee and opened the journal to continue reading and, with luck, find some answers.

November 4, 1879

Despite the snow that keeps piling up, our stack of pelts keeps growing. This season might be the best I have ever had, and I have Jim to thank for that. Even with being here for years, I do not know the area nearly as well as Jim does. 

Today, along with the traps all being full, we also managed to get a nice deer. That meat will sustain us for some time. It is a welcome change from rabbit and squirrel. Jim is salting and curing it as I write this. He saw that I was getting worn down and needed to get warm and rest. Jim seems to think that because he is younger than me, he can do more. I hate to admit it, but I think he is right about that. I’m glad he is here. I need the help this year, which I hate to admit even more.

“Awe, Herschel,” Sara said as she sipped her coffee. “You make me think of my grandpa. He always hated to admit he needed help with anything, but he would always accept it if it were offered. That also explains Ted. He is either the ghost of that deer haunting this place or seeking revenge for his fallen ancestor.”

November 7, 1879

Today was a strange one. Several of our traps were empty. They had been sprung, and it looked as if they had caught something. They were all bent up, and one was even ripped apart. They are no longer usable, and we have no idea what could have done that kind of damage.

The strangest part was the tracks, or that there were no tracks. It was as if something just dropped out of the sky, grabbed what was in the trap, and then disappeared.

Jim says he has no idea what could have taken our game. I think he knows more than what he is saying. It is just the same as when we saw that thing that was neither wolf nor bear. He paled, got quiet, and was looking around as if he expected something to jump out from behind a tree and grab him. I think it is something from one of those stories he tells me. I think he knows what it is. He is just afraid to say what it is.

Regardless of what it was, losing those traps will make our work harder than it already is. It means fewer pelts to sell. We will have to find the best places and move some of our traps. We might have to expand our area, and by doing that, it will mean many more hours out in the weather and darkness. The darkness is something we both want to avoid in this place. There are a lot of animals that will be desperate for food during the winter, and they hunt at night. Jim and me would be easy prey, and the smell of what we caught that day will draw them in. 

We will decide tonight which traps to move, and where to go so we can hopefully be back to the cabin before dark. The days are quickly growing shorter and the cold becoming more brutal as the snow grows deeper, slowing our daily progress.

My dear Sarah, I hope you are watching over me for this winter. How I love and miss you. I long to be with you again one day, and I feel like that day may be coming soon.

A lightning strike near the cabin shook it and left Sara’s ears ringing as she jumped. Her heart thumped in her chest as she panted from the sudden scare. She had been so focused on the journal that she had tuned out the sounds of the storm outside as it ramped up in intensity once again. 

The entire entry had Sara confused and a little concerned. The thought of an animal that frightened two experienced trappers was bad enough; one that they could not identify, in part because it left no tracks, made it worse. 

The last paragraph of the entry had her wondering where Herschel’s Sarah was and whether she was still alive when Herschel wrote it. It was not uncommon for a man to become a trapper or mountain man after his wife died in that era. Perhaps that is what Hershal did. If Sarah was alive, would Herschel be asking her to watch over him? The journal was leaving Sara with more questions than answers. 

November 8, 1879

Today was more of the same as yesterday. Two more traps had their catch removed, and the traps were destroyed. If this continues, we won’t have any traps left by the start of the new year, and that will mean no pelts and no money for the rest of the year.

Jim finally said he thinks it is something protecting the forest and its territory that is not of this world. While I enjoy hearing his stories, I believe that is all they are, stories. There are no monsters, demons, or anything else living here that should not be. 

November 9, 1879

Today was a better day. All of our traps had a catch in them, and none of the traps were broken. I maintain that it was most likely a bear that had been raiding our traps. The reason why there were no tracks left by it was because of the wind filling them in with snow. When I brought this up to Jim, he only grunted. I am reasonably confident that he still believes that it was some magical entity that was causing the trouble.

Jim put on a pot of venison stew before we left the cabin this morning. It was delicious, but yours, Sarah, can never be matched. I miss you every day more than you will ever know. It is the little things that remind me most of you, like the stew. 

Sara caught a movement out of the corner of her eye. She twisted to see what it was and was met with a sharp pain in her back and ribs. There was nothing there. She was alone in the cabin, the same as she had been since she first found it. 

“It was just a stupid shadow. Just relax,” Sara muttered to herself.

She looked around the cabin before turning back the way she had been when she saw the shadow. There was nothing that should have made a shadow move beside her. The light stick hanging from the ceiling was beginning to dim slightly but was still shining bright. There were absolutely no shadows near where Sara was sitting.

Sara sighed, “I just need to take a breath and keep it together. Maybe I hit my head harder than I thought, and it’s a bit of a concussion.”

Sara had no signs of a concussion. The hit she did take to the head was the back of her head hitting her backpack when she slammed into the fallen tree. She was rattled and disoriented from tumbling down the embankment, which led to the flashes of light she had seen when she finally hit the tree at the bottom. Other than the injury to her leg caused by a tree branch impaling her, her symptoms were far more consistent with whiplash, bruises, and muscle strains.

Sara took a drink of her now cold coffee and looked around the cabin. Her mind wandered back to what it must have been like for Herschel and Jim to live in it together for months at a time. She felt somewhat stir-crazy after less than forty-eight hours. 

She loved the outdoors and isolation, but with that was the love of being in the open. While she had been in caves a few times, it was not something that she enjoyed. The close quarters and confinement sent her into a near panic after a few hours.

Sara’s phone rang, causing her to jump as her thoughts snapped back to the present. She let out another sigh as she picked it up to see it was her husband calling her.

“Hello, sweetie,” Sara answered her phone.

“How are you doing, Babe?” Kevin asked.

“I’m okay. I’m just sitting here in this cabin, listening to the lightning strike all around, reading this journal, and thinking about the men who lived here.”

Kevin teased, “Should I worry that you are thinking about other men while you are on vacation without me?”

Sara laughed, “Maybe, if they were here with me, but considering they have both probably been dead for over one hundred years, I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

“That’s what I thought. Seriously, though, how are you? I know you keep telling me that you aren’t that bad, but I am still worried about you being stuck in that little cabin in the middle of nowhere. Are you sure you don’t need me to come to you and get you out of there?”

“Kev, I promise you that I am good. I really am,” Sara assured him. “I will admit that I have moments of being a little claustrophobic, but all I have to do is open the door or step outside when the rain lets up. I have set up my tarp to funnel rainwater into a pot that was here in the cabin. I have more than enough food to last for a full two weeks if I need it. If I conserve my meal packs, snacks, and everything else I have, I could probably be okay for four weeks or more if I had to. I won’t, but I could.”

“I am so glad that you prepare and pack the way you do when you go out,” Kevin said. “It helps me worry a little less.”

“Try not to worry at all. I’ve got this. Things aren’t going according to plan, and my schedule of where I would be and when I would be there has completely gone out the window. I will be in this cabin for a while, and you have the GPS coordinates. I’ll be here at least until the weather breaks, and then I think I am just going to make my way out and cancel the rest of the trip,” Sara told him. “I need to rest and recover at home for a while before I go back to work.”

“I like your new plan,” Kevin told her. “So, what are you making for dinner tonight?”

“I don’t know yet. I haven’t thought that far ahead. I will probably just have my leftovers from lunch. Why?”

“Really, Sweetheart, it’s 7 pm. Don’t you think you should have dinner?”

Sara felt confused by what Kevin had just told her. She had completely lost track of time. The isolation in the windowless cabin was, in some ways, like being in a sensory-deprivation chamber.

“Oh,” Sara said. “I didn’t realize what time it was. With this cabin having no windows, my sense of time is thrown off. Plus, I’m pretty much sitting still all the time, so I’m not working up much of an appetite.”

“I can understand that,” Kevin replied. “I have done that a few times when I went caving for days at a time. After the first twenty-four hours or so, you completely lose track of time and even the day.”

“Yup, that’s exactly what is happening. I’m so glad you understand. The only way I know if it is even day or night is by going outside or looking at my phone, which I am trying not to do so I can conserve the battery and charging packs.”

“Well, now that you know what time it is, take a break from reading that journal and eat something for dinner. I love you and will talk to you later.”

“I will, and I love you too. Bye,” said Sara.

“Bye, Babe,” Kevin answered before hanging up.

Sara laid her phone on the table and looked at the illuminated screen. She was at a loss as to how she had lost track of time. She thought about setting alarms on her phone to make sure she kept track of time. She dismissed that idea. With her injuries, she might not sleep at night and would need to sleep during the day until she healed enough to hike out of the forest.

Sara got up and stirred the remainder of her lunch, still in the cooking pot. It was cold, but she didn’t mind or did not feel like heating it. She moved her meal to the table and began to eat. While she did, her mind kept drifting back to the journal and what she had read so far. Sara felt compelled to keep reading no matter what. She needed to read it.