NOW
The Godlin Lakes were near the top of the mountains, right alongside the road. A floatplane was tied near a dock on the lake. As the group walked toward the water, Webb saw the wires that were strung from fenceposts surrounding some small cabins. After hiking through vistas straight from a wilderness slide show, finding this collection of shacks felt like stumbling upon civilization.
The two Germans were leading the group, and Fritz, the one who had thrown the flashlight into the bushes, reached the fence first.
“You might not want to do that,” George said as Fritz put his hand on the wire to push it down and step over it. Fritz fell backward with a scream, shouting something in German that Webb couldn’t understand. It didn’t sound good.
When Fritz got up, there was a dark stain at his crotch.
He screamed again, this time at George.
“What is this? What is this?” He pointed at the fence. “You tell me ahead of time, yes? Not wait until it bites me!”
“Bites you?” George asked.
“Shock! Shock! Yes, bites my hand.”
George said calmly, “It’s why I said you might not want to do that. It’s electric. Up there, attached to some batteries from a tractor. That would give anybody a big shock.”
“Electric?” Fritz was furious. He pointed at his crotch. “You make me wet my pants.”
“Not me,” George said. “It’s important to listen to your guide out here. Got it?”
The German gave him a dark look but said nothing more.
“Why electric?” Webb asked.
“Bear fence,” George said. “Electricity keeps them on the outside. That’s a good thing. Tonight we can set up our tents inside.”
The commotion had drawn a man from the cabins. He waved and grinned. Since barely two dozen hikers went down the Canol Trail in any summer, Webb guessed that not many visitors came up to the lakes.
“Let me disconnect the electricity,” the man called out. “Then you can join me in the big cabin.”
While he knew he’d have to join the group for dinner, Webb didn’t want to socialize. He just wanted to have time alone to play guitar. At least, for now, he wouldn’t have to worry about bears.
“Left here by the army,” said Chuck, the man who had waved them into the enclosure. He pointed at a big woodstove inside the main cabin. “Still works good, don’t it? I’m a small outfitter. Would have cost me a fortune to get something like this up here.”
The fire was crackling, and heavy iron pans on top of the stove were filled with fresh-caught fish and the ptarmigan that Fritz had killed earlier. Some kind of bread was baking on the stove top.
Webb realized he had never been this hungry in his life, not even in the first two weeks after he left home and he’d been eating out of Dumpsters.
Even though his mouth was watering, he waited until George offered him a plateful of fish. Their eyes met.
“You could probably make a little money,” George said. “Right here, right now. Lighten your load. Sell some stuff to Chuck. You heard him say how expensive it is to bring things in. I’d bet a lot of your stuff is valuable.”
George winked.
Webb remembered how George had made such a big deal about carrying everything out. “You have eyes in the back of your head?” Webb asked.
“Yup,” George said.
George turned to Chuck. “See this skinny kid right here, stupid enough to carry a guitar on his pack?”
“Wasn’t going to say anything about it,” Chuck answered. “But stupid is as stupid does.”
The two Germans were busy eating. And watching.
“Well,” George said, “this kid’s backpack is getting heavy. He has a bunch of stuff he’d be willing to sell you dirt cheap, if you can use it.”
“That true?” Chuck asked.
“It is weighing me down,” Webb said. He went to the corner of the cabin where he’d set down his backpack. He brought it back and opened the top flap. He pulled out the heavy flashlight that the Germans had thrown out, and set it on the table.
“Could use that,” Chuck said. “And if you were idiot enough to bring it out here, I’ll be idiot enough to give you a dollar for it.”
“It’s a twenty-dollar item,” Webb said. “The price tag is still on it.”
Which was true. It came from The Northern, in Norman Wells.
“Either take my offer or carry it,” Chuck said. “Nobody worth anything just throws stuff on a trail out here.”
“Sold then,” Webb told him. “I don’t want to carry it.”
Webb pulled out some cans of bear spray.
Chuck laughed. “Pepper spray? Didn’t you see the sign on the wall?”
He pointed. The sign explained the difference between black bear droppings and grizzly bear droppings: grizzly bear droppings smelled like pepper. There was an official insignia on the poster, but Webb guessed—and hoped—the poster was meant as a joke.
Chuck continued. “Pepper spray is just going to irritate a grizzly. You don’t want be around one when it’s not irritated, and you really don’t want to be responsible for irritating it. You’ll notice George has a rifle. That’s what it takes to stop a bear. Three times in the last month, I’ve had to shoot over a bear’s head to get it away from the horses.”
Webb pulled out a mini-stove with a butane tank. He’d seen it at The Northern for over a hundred dollars. A solar shower bag was next—fill it with water, and the sun would heat it and you’d have a great outdoor shower. For about thirty bucks.
All of these, of course, Webb had picked up as the Germans dropped each item along the trail. Folding shovel, a set of walkie-talkies, a pair of bright yellow binoculars, and even a stainless-steel mirror.
“Twenty dollars for all of it,” Chuck said.
“Except the mirror,” Webb said. “I heard somewhere a mirror is better than flares for signaling an airplane if you get lost.”
“You’re smart enough to know that yet dumb enough to carry all that extra gear? Twenty dollars, then, for all of it except the mirror.”
The Germans watched, their mouths gaping in surprise. Either because Webb had picked everything up behind them, or because Chuck was offering only twenty dollars.
“Any idea what you have to pay for this in a store?” Webb asked, hiding a smile.
“Any idea how much work it’s going to be to take it back to the store, even if you still have your receipts?”
“Lots,” Webb said.
“Stupid is as stupid does,” Chuck said again. “I’ve changed my mind. I’ll give you fifteen for all of it.”
“That is over three hundred dollars of stuff, yes?” Wilhelm squawked.
Webb noticed they didn’t want to claim any of it. Maybe they were embarrassed by what they’d done, but Webb doubted it.
“Ten dollars,” Chuck said to Webb. “My final offer. Keep in mind, my garbage cans are full already and I have to fly everything out that won’t burn.”
“Ten dollars then,” Webb said. “Good enough for me.”
He felt the Germans’ eyes on him. He didn’t care what they thought. It had been a pain to pick up after them all day. And this was way better than going to George and tattling about it.
“Don’t you feel better, kid?” George asked.
“Much,” Webb said.
“That guitar must weigh some,” Chuck said. “Might give you close to what it’s worth.”
“Don’t go there,” George told Chuck. “Threaten to take away the kid’s guitar and a real strange light appears in his eyes.”