Chuck waved for the others to join him at a place on the riverbank with everything necessary for the crossing—a pair of stout conifers opposite one another on each shore; banks devoid of brush; and smooth water between, free of protruding rocks.
Clarence gathered from everyone the gear necessary to rig the traverse—coiled ropes, loops of one-inch nylon webbing, oversized locking carabiners, aluminum pulleys, and a metal ratchet with a long-travel handle. Lex rolled out the pair of ten-foot rubber rafts and assigned Keith, Kaifong, Randall, and Sarah to inflate them with a pair of foot pumps.
While the researchers manned the pumps and Lex screwed together a pair of collapsible paddles, Toby sat nearby, tapping at a tablet computer he’d pulled from his pack.
“Anything?” Lex asked him.
“Not yet. I’m going through every article I’ve ever stored on this thing, searching under ‘sudden pack movement,’ ‘pack travel distances,’ any word combo I can think of.” He smacked his forehead with the butt of his hand. “I can’t believe I left our radio receivers in camp. The wolf that showed up at the cabin wasn’t collared, so I figured we wouldn’t need them out here.”
“I should’ve brought the satellite phone from camp, too,” Lex said. “I’ll use it to check in with Martha as soon as we get back. It’s for emergencies only, but I’d say this qualifies. She’ll be able to tell us which pack has come our way.”
Toby looked across the river. “If they show themselves, we’ll know sooner than that. Between fur colors and collars, I’ll be able to make a positive ID, no radio receivers required.”
Chuck slid one of the inflated rafts into the river. He put on a PFD and turned to Carmelita and Rosie. “Don’t get anywhere near the water without one of these strapped on tight. The water’s cold and fast.”
Janelle rested her hands on the girls’ shoulders. “Got it.”
“Got it!” Rosie repeated, her voice raised, prompting a “shush” from her mother.
Chuck ferried the raft across the river, paddling with J-strokes to keep the small, rubber craft aimed into the current while Clarence paid out a lightweight line attached to the stern. The ferry was easy to manage solo, but would have been dangerous with a passenger load—hence the need to set the traverse. The river carried him a hundred feet downstream during the crossing. He hopped ashore and dragged the raft upstream to the tall tree.
He used the lightweight line to draw a sheathed length of nine-millimeter rope across the river, then a stout length of static, eleven-millimeter line. He and Clarence affixed the thicker line across the river between the two trees. Clarence attached the ratchet to the rope and tightened the device, stretching the thick line until it extended across the water as taut as a bowstring, three feet above the river’s surface.
Chuck looped the nine-millimeter rope through the ring on the bow of the raft and affixed the raft to the ferry line with a pair of pulleys. He tossed his PFD and paddle into the raft, and helped Clarence run it back across the river using the looped nine-mil line and pulleys.
Clarence slid the second raft into the water and secured it behind the first. Lex, Sarah, Toby, Kaifong, Randall, and Keith donned the PFDs. Randall balanced the drone, in its pack frame, on the floor of the downstream raft. Chance crouched between Keith’s knees. Lex and Sarah took places at the head of the upstream raft, and Chuck and Clarence hauled the doubled rafts away from shore. The loaded boats rode low in the water, the current breaking around their bows. Upon reaching the far bank, the scientists dropped their life jackets in the boats, shouldered their packs, and clambered ashore. Chuck and Clarence ran the PFD-laden rafts back across the river, where Clarence tossed life jackets up the bank to Janelle and the girls. They put on the PFDs, Janelle double checking Carmelita’s and Rosie’s straps, and boarded the rafts. Clarence knelt at the head of the upstream raft, and Chuck pulled the rafts back through the current.
With everyone gathered on the shore, Lex put a finger to his lips and gestured for Keith to set out with Chance. Keith released the leash reel and Chance surged forward, nose to the ground, scurrying upstream along the riverbank, then down. The dog stopped, tail in the air, several yards downstream from the traverse line. Keith motioned the others to him.
“They were still together when they came out of the water here,” Keith reported, his voice low.
“Unbelievable,” Lex murmured.
Chance headed up the bank into the forest, pulling hard at the extended leash.
Janelle grabbed Chuck’s arm. “Remind me again this is safe.”
“I wouldn’t be comfortable having you here if it wasn’t.”
“But those howls.” She shuddered.
“Wolves have gotten a bad rap for centuries. The big bad wolf in the Three Little Pigs, the wolf that ate Grandma in Little Red Riding Hood—fear of wolves is a big part of why they were wiped out across the West a hundred years ago, and why it took so long to bring them back to Yellowstone. But wolves don’t attack humans.” Chuck laid a hand on her arm. “This is what we came for.”
Rosie tugged the hem of her mother’s jacket. “They’re leaving us behind.” She pointed at the departing scientists. “We’ll be all alone.”
Janelle looked at the waiting rafts, snugged against the shore, then up the riverbank into the forest. “Okay,” she said. “Vamanos.”
She propelled the girls ahead of her.
Chuck’s pulse quickened at the thought of his family getting to see a pack of wolves here, deep in the Yellowstone backcountry.
Then, his thoughts hit a speed bump.
The pack’s arrival here in the upper Yellowstone River valley was sudden, inexplicable. If Toby had no idea why the wolves had come, Chuck certainly didn’t.
Concern fluttered through him. He reached back to feel the .357, solid and heavy at the bottom of his pack.
They came to a broad meadow west of the river. Everyone spread out beneath the sheltering branches of the trees at the meadow’s edge. The meadow stretched half a mile to the foot of the steep, forested ridge that rose high above the valley.
Keith retracted the leash, drawing Chance to his side. Lex, Randall, and Kaifong lifted binoculars to their eyes. Toby unstrapped the tripod from the side panel of his pack, extended its telescoping legs, and attached a large, black spotting scope to its top. Next to him, Sarah pulled a tripod and scope from her pack, too. They peered through the high-powered monoscopes, studying the open field.
Chuck raised his binoculars to his eyes. He waited for his contacts to settle over his pupils, then spun the focus knob. Hummocks of bunch grass came into sharp focus a hundred yards ahead. Fresh, green shoots sprouted through the previous year’s matted, brown stalks. He scanned the meadow in bite-sized pieces, working his way across the clearing.
To his left, Sarah let out a startled gasp.