On the way to breakfast the next morning, Jessie looked for Grandfather’s minivan. There was a minivan parked at the mess hall. But it was dark green, not silver. Silly, she thought. It was dark last night. She had just made a mistake.
At breakfast, Grizzly announced, “Today, you’ll each choose a special session. There are sign-up sheets on your tables. Blue sheets for six- and seven-year-olds. Green for eight to ten. Orange for eleven to twelve. And yellow for thirteen and up.”
As they ate, the Aldens studied their sheets. “I’ll take Foraging,” said Henry, pouring syrup over a buttery stack of pancakes.
“What’s for…for…” Benny didn’t know the word.
“Here.” Henry pointed to the word on the yellow paper. “Foraging. It means searching for food. Sort of like the way you’re always looking for food in our refrigerator.” The children laughed.
Jessie peeled a banana as she read her options. “Wood Carving,” she decided, circling her choice. She wanted to learn to make useful objects like spoons and bowls.
Violet finished her oatmeal and circled Knotting and Basket Weaving.
Benny frowned at his only choice: Nature Appreciation. Boring! He slumped in his chair.
Henry patted him on the shoulder. “Cheer up. Remember, Grandfather told us to learn everything we could. I bet you’ll learn something today that will help us on our hike. Remember, ‘All for one, and one for all!’”
Lani came around, and the children handed her their sign-up sheets. But when she got to Jessie’s, she handed it back. “Sorry, Jessie. Wood Carving is full.”
“Already?” asked Jessie. “Can you add one more person?”
“Full up,” said Lani. She pointed to another activity. “Navigating and River Fording is fun. Why don’t you do that one?”
Jessie sighed. She really wanted Wood Carving. But she liked the sound of navigating, so she decided to give it a try.
After breakfast and cleanup, the children met with their groups. Henry’s Foraging group followed a trail through the woods. Each camper got a booklet with photos of safe and dangerous plants. Their counselor, Arlo, pointed out plants along the trail. “This one’s safe to eat,” he’d say or, “This plant is poisonous.”
Henry took careful notes. After an hour, Arlo said, “Let’s take a tea break.” He stopped at a white birch tree. A large black blob grew on its bark. “This is called a Chaga mushroom,” said Arlo. “Does anyone have a knife?”
Henry jumped up. “I do,” he said.
“Okay,” said Arlo. “Cut off a lemon-sized chunk. Chagas are pretty hard, so take your time and be careful. The rest of you can start the fire.”
Soon, a pot of water was bubbling on the fire with the piece of Chaga inside. As it brewed, the campers talked about why they had chosen foraging. Henry talked about finding food when he’d lived in the boxcar. “I’m a Boy Scout now,” he said. “I want to earn the Botany Merit Badge. The plants we study today will give me a good start.”
When the tea was ready, Arlo sweetened it with honey he’d gathered from a beehive. The earthy-tasting tea provided a nice break before the group headed back into the woods. Arlo handed Henry the piece of Chaga from the pot. “Put this in your pack,” he said. “You can brew it again and again. It may come in handy.”
Benny’s group wasn’t boring at all. Their counselor, Hanna, taught them a fun memory game. She led them into the woods for two minutes. Then, “Stop!” she said. “What did you see?”
The campers shouted out, “Trees.” “Leaves.” “Sky.” “Clouds.”
Hanna leaned forward and whispered, “Did any of you see the rabbit hiding under a large fern?” No one had. “Did anyone see deer poop on the ground?” The group giggled at the word poop. But no one had seen any.
Benny raised his hand. “Wildman Willie calls poop ‘scat,’” he said. “Different animals have different-shaped poop…er, scat.”
“Well done, Benny,” said Hanna. Benny felt proud knowing so much. “Let’s walk another two minutes,” she said. “Use your senses. What do you see, smell, hear, and feel?” She held up a finger. “But don’t taste anything in the wild until you check with me. I’ll tell you if it’s safe to eat.”
On each two-minute walk, Benny noticed more and more things. He heard leaves crunch under his shoes. He smelled pine trees. He saw fresh scat that looked exactly like Watch’s poop. Benny looked around for a dog. Then he remembered Wildman Willie had said dog and wolf poop look alike. Could there be a wolf in these woods?
“Are you paying attention to everything around you?” asked Hanna. “Have you seen water? Food? Was there a place to build a fire or shelter?” The more they walked, the more they saw. “All we need now,” said Hanna, “is something to taste.”
She led them into a clearing filled with blueberry bushes. Benny loved blueberries! “Are these safe to eat?” he asked.
“Absolutely,” said Hanna.
The children picked fistfuls of sweet berries. As they ate, Hanna said, “You’ll see wild blueberries everywhere in these woods. Remember the look of these leaves.” She handed a blueberry bush leaf to each child. “The berries are safe to eat.”
With his tummy full, Benny lay back and stared up at the sky, the clouds, the trees. Huh? What was that? “Hanna,” Benny called. “I see something.” He pointed to a black box high in a tree.
“You are an excellent detective, Benny,” said Hanna. “That is a trail camera. You may see them on your hikes. They watch to be sure our campers are safe and to see what animals are around.”
The children waved at the camera and made funny faces. Hanna laughed. “After lunch, I’ll show you some of the photos and videos taken by these cameras. You’ll see hikers and all sorts of different animals. You may even see yourselves eating blueberries.”
Violet sat at a large worktable. The weaving counselor, Alisha, handed each camper an empty plastic water bottle. “We will be recycling these into beautiful baskets,” she said. “Very carefully, use your cutting knife to take off the top of the bottle.” She showed them how. Some campers needed help. But Violet, who was always making art at home, finished quickly. Then she helped the camper next to her.
“Now,” said Alisha, “cut one-inch strips from the top of the bottle down to the bottom.”
As Violet worked, she heard a dog bark far away. How she missed Watch. She hoped he wasn’t too lonely for all of them. When she finished cutting, her bottle looked like a daisy. The bottom was the center of the flower. The plastic strips spread out from it like petals.
Alisha checked their work. “Excellent,” she said. “Now, pick out your yarn to weave.” Violet selected a ball of purple, her favorite color. “Watch carefully,” said Alisha. She took a piece of her own green string. Starting at the middle, she wove it in and out around the petals. In and out, around and around, until the string covered the plastic petals. Alisha held up her beautiful green bowl. “Your turn,” she said.
By day’s end, Violet had woven a bottle basket, a reed basket, and a basket made of twigs, complete with purple ribbon. She finished so quickly that Alisha taught her several knots to use in her work as well. After class, Alisha took Violet aside. “You are a gifted artist,” she said. “Perhaps, when you turn sixteen, you will return as a junior counselor and help me teach art.”
Jessie hung upside down from a rope strung across a stream. Her Navigating and River Fording group had to cross from one side of the stream to the other. Her hands and legs were tired from gripping the rope. She heard the water rushing beneath her. A mosquito buzzed in her face. But inch by inch, she pulled her body along the rope.
The other campers cheered her on: “Keep going!” “You’re almost there!” Finally, she made it to the other side and collapsed on the shore. She’d done it! She’d forded the stream. Everyone cheered. Then it was the next camper’s turn.
This was the fourth stream Jessie’s group had crossed. She’d learned four different ways to safely cross water. But hanging upside down was definitely the hardest. After the last camper had crossed, they picnicked on shore. One girl kept looking around. “What if bears smell our food?” she asked. “I heard they can smell food from miles away.”
“Don’t worry,” said a redheaded girl. “This is my fourth year at Camp Survival, and I’ve never seen a bear. Not once.”
The first girl kept looking around, just in case. A noise came from the woods. “What’s that?” she cried.
“It could be a deer,” said their counselor. “Or a branch falling off a tree.”
The red-haired girl turned to Jessie. “The three-day hike’s the best part,” she said. “We all head north to Black Bear Lake. Each group goes a different way. It’s fun to see who gets there first.”
Jessie rubbed her sore hands. “Will we have to cross any streams?” she asked.
The girl shrugged. “I don’t think so. At least, none of my groups ever had to.”
Jessie was happy that she’d learned about crossing rivers, but she still wished Lani had let her take Wood Carving. Having spoons and bowls would be helpful on their hike.
The Aldens barely had energy to brush their teeth and shower before crawling into bed. Henry said, “Jessie, I passed by the woodworking class this afternoon. It didn’t look full at all.”
Jessie didn’t understand. “Then why would Lani send me to Navigating and River Fording?” she asked.
Violet brushed her hair. “Maybe the class was over by the time Henry saw it,” she said, “and campers had already left.”
“Maybe,” said Jessie. She slid under the cool covers and fluffed her pillow. Woodworking would have been so much more fun than fording streams.
The others quickly fell asleep, but Jessie’s sore hands and legs kept her up. She had just started to doze when a sound jerked her awake. She got out of bed and tiptoed outside. The air was still. No sounds. No ripples on the moonlit lake. Then she heard it again. In the distance, people were shouting. A dog barked. There was more shouting, more barking.
Was that Watch’s bark? Jessie would recognize her wirehaired terrier’s bark anywhere.
Stop that, Jessie Alden! She hugged herself against the cold. Stop imagining things. You did not see Grandfather’s minivan last night. And you do not hear Watch barking now. Jessie shuffled back into the yurt and fell into a restless sleep.
