Chapter 3
For the next week, Scott continued to leave a tray of food on the third drum each night and each morning he found the tray empty. On the morning of the eighth day, Scott rose a little earlier than normal and it was just before daybreak when he came out of the cabin. He looked at the third drum. The tray was there but there was something on the tray. As he crossed the yard toward the barrels Scott realized it was one of the apples. As he approached the barrels Scott saw something rise up from behind the drum and the apple floated up then disappeared. Scott stopped dead in his tracks and stared at the now empty tray. Just then he heard a low growl and almost immediately the white image, still shadowed by the dusky dawn light, flittered into view beside the drum and he saw the child run toward the underbrush and disappear into it with the bear at its heels. He heard the rustle of the thicket and stood motionless until the sound had vanished into the warm morning air. Evidently the bear had been playing watchdog while the child ate. He looked at the empty tray then stepped around the drum to see a partially eaten apple lying on the ground. He picked it up and looked at it then sighed as he felt a pang of guilt for interrupting the child's meal. Scott laid the apple on top of the third drum then returned to the house. Later that afternoon, he returned to the drums to find the apple was still there. Why had he thought the child would return? Of course it wouldn't since there was always so much activity around the yard in the daytime. He tossed the apple in the drum disgustedly then went back to the house.
The next morning Scott and Steve climbed into one of their logging trucks and headed for the north slopes where, the previous day, a number of trees had been trimmed out of the dense forest.
"What's that?" Steve asked when his brother laid a large sack on the floor of the cab.
"Insurance."
"You've become obsessed with that kid haven't you?"
"Not really obsessed," Scott replied as he slid the high powered rifle into the clips that were attached to the dashboard. "Just worried."
"Just don't get your hopes up brother dear."
"I refuse to see any kid, wild or not, go hungry or eat from a trash can."
"I think you've taken care of both of those concerns."
As the truck crossed the narrow stream and headed up the north slope Scott caught a glimpse of something white in the underbrush ahead "Stop the truck," he told his brother.
Steve hit the brakes and looked at his brother to see the man's gaze locked on something ahead. "What?"
Scott pointed to the thicket. "Watch that underbrush on the right."
Seconds later the flitter of white appeared for a moment then disappeared again.
"You think it's the kid?"
"I don't know," Scott said as he grabbed the bag. "Only one way to find out. Turn off the engine and keep that rifle handy."
Scott had barely gotten past the front of the truck when he heard a low, throaty growl and saw the flitter of white again. Scott stopped dead in his tracks as a loud rustle came from the underbrush and moments later the child appeared and ran across the road toward the other side.
"Wait!" Scott was not sure why he had called out like that. If the child was wild there was no way it would understand words. But, to his shock, the child stopped. He heard another low throaty growl and knew the bear was close by. Too close by. Scott took a deep breath as the child turned and he got his first look at the innocent and very frightened face. A little girl! Her blonde hair was long and horribly tangled and looked like it might have been curly at one time. She was wearing what seemed to be an adult t-shirt or maybe a petticoat. He held out the paper bag and said, "Food," and saw the child's wide, fear-filled eyes bounce to it. When the low growl came again Scott determined the bear was in the left underbrush and he moved slowly toward the spot where the little girl had appeared from the brush and sat the bag down then backed away. "Food," he said again and saw her gaze dart to the bag then back. He kept back peddling until he got to the front of the truck, his gaze never leaving the small face. He saw her look at the bag again and he smiled then gave a slight nod. "It's ok," he said in a gentle voice. "You can take it." Before he could blink he heard her make a low, rumbling sound in her throat and instantly the bear appeared out of the underbrush and stopped beside her. Scott's eyes widened as the bear glared at him and he heard a low, throaty growl erupt from deep in the bear's throat. Scott stayed motionless in hopes of not antagonizing either the little girl or her watchdog. He saw her gaze jet to the bag and back again and he smiled. "Food," he repeated and saw her take a step toward it. He nodded. "It's ok," he kept the gentle tone. "Take it. It's for you." In the blink of an eye the little girl rushed across the road, grabbed the bag in her small hand then ran back as the bear took a step toward the truck and growled again. Scott was sure the bear was only issuing a warning but it did not matter. He had no intentions of moving. When the little girl stopped beside the bear and looked at him Scott was sure the faintest of smiles came to her face before she disappeared into the underbrush with the bear right behind her. He listened to the rustle until it was lost in the light breeze. Only then did he return to the safety of the truck cab. As he closed the door Scott looked at the driver to see his brother's eyes were the size of silver dollars and his face was ashen.
"My God!" the driver said in a hoarse voice. "That's a little girl!"
Scott looked at the place where the two had disappeared. “Yeah,” and then took a deep breath, releasing it slowly.
“It took a lot of guts to face down a bear.”
"That kid has to eat. If it takes facing down a bear again to see that she does, I will. How old do you think she is?"
"I'd say maybe eight or ten. She's not very big."
"I'd have guessed about that age too. I think I am going to do some digging on the internet this afternoon. That little girl wasn't born up here and if she's only 8 or 10 then she hasn't been up here all that long."
"What makes you say that?"
"Because she understood what I said. She didn't learn that from the bear."
"But she was talking to that bear. That would mean she's been up here long enough to learn to communicate with it."
"Yeah."
The two men continued up the hill and picked up the logs. When they drove back by the spot where they had seen the little girl, Steve slowed the truck and they looked around but saw no sign of either the bear or the girl.
After they returned to camp Scott went straight to the office and began his investigation. He searched through every local paper's archives, through the county archives and even the state.
"Find anything?" Steve asked when he came into the office just after four.
Scott shook his head. "There's no record of a child being lost that wasn't found in this section of the Sierras for the last thirty years. I checked both California and Nevada newspapers plus every archive I could find. I even checked the missing children sites. There's nothing."
Steve perched on the corner of the desk. "That only proves it was either never reported or she came from farther away than that."
"I'll check the surrounding states tomorrow."
When Scott checked the tray the following morning he was surprised to find a folded paper bag on it. She returned the bag? Scott looked inside the brown bag, unsure of what he thought he might find. Empty. Scott thought about calling the police and having them fingerprint the bag but then changed his mind and simply tucked it under his arm and headed for the office.
"Whatcha’ got?" Steve asked.
"The paper bag I gave the little girl yesterday."
"Are you sure?"
"Not completely. But it was laying on the tray. I'd say there's a real good chance it's the same bag."
"Why would she return it?"
Steve Lyndon shrugged. "Our parents always returned the container if someone gave us food in one."
"Yeah but this little girl's wild. I don't think a bear would get much company that brought food over when they came.
; Scott spent the entire day on the computer trying to find any information that he could link to the little girl. He scoured every newspaper archive he could find of every state that even came close to touching the Sierra or Rocky Mountains; from the Mexico border through Arizona and New Mexico through Canada and into Alaska. There were no reports of any missing or lost children in the last fifteen years that had not been found. Even though Scott doubted the little girl was that old or had come from that far away, he wanted to cover as many bases as he could and so had extended the search limits.
"Find anything?"
"No," Scott sighed disgustedly and explained the details of his search.
"Well, I guess the only thing left to do is call the sheriff."
"What could he do?"
"His connections are better than ours."
"He'd have to have more information than we have," Scott relayed. "And that would mean catching her." His gaze drifted to one of only two windows in the office. "I just can't see that little girl in a cage. She's too wild."
"I have to agree with you there. Ok, no sheriff. What next then?"
"All I can think of is just keep making sure that she gets good food and doesn't have to dig in garbage cans anymore. Maybe, in time, she'll trust us enough to let us get closer."
"Closer so we can do what?"
"I don't know."
Steve got to his feet. "I have to run into town for supplies. Then I thought I'd stop off at Cliff's for a couple of beers. Interested?"
"You bet. Let me put on a clean shirt."
In Goldville, the nearest town to the logging camp, the two men gathered the supplies they needed then stopped at the local general store. When Steve was ready to leave he found his younger brother in the children’s clothing section looking at a pink shirt and matching shorts.
"A little small for you isn't it?"
Scott looked up and chuckled then hung them back on the rack. "I was just wondering what size she might wear. That little dress or shirt she had on was awfully tattered and dirty."
"If you wanted to get her something I'd suggest a pair of jeans with an elastic waist though. Although I'm not sure she'd be willing to take something like that. I think she's too wild."
"You're probably right," Scott said and followed his brother to the front door.
After stopping for a couple of beers at the only bar in the small town the pair headed back to camp. It was a thirty mile drive back to the logging site that had been their home for the better part of five years.
"Oh hell!" Scott snapped as the truck turned off the highway and headed down the road that weaved through the tall timber toward the camp.
"You forget something?"
"I forgot to put out her food."
Steve checked his watch. "It's only a little after ten. The night we saw them they didn't come till after three. I'm sure you have plenty of time yet."
Scott nodded as he watched the road for any wildlife, something that was quite prevalent at this time of night in the dense forests. When they arrived back at the logging camp, the pair unloaded the supplies then Scott hurried into the kitchen. He made up the tray including a banana and some grapes, two items they had bought while they were in town and that he had never offered before. He made the two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches he always did then flipped on the yard light and headed for the garbage bins with the tray in his hands. As Scott sat the tray down on top of the third bin he heard a low, throaty growl from the underbrush that circled the yard less than ten feet beyond the drums. Scott froze his motions as he swiveled his head slowly and looked in the direction of the growl. He could make out the shadowy outline of the black bear against the brush. Scott swallowed hard and lowered his hands slowly. He was about to start backing away when a rustling sound hit his ears and moments later, a white image appeared beside the bear. The little girl. Scott decided to take a chance at learning more about the child and he smiled even though he doubted she could see it in the shadows. "Hello," he said in the same gentle voice he had used the last time they had met. He could both see and feel the two pair of eyes on him and he took a deep breath and slowly picked up the banana. He held it out in an open palm. "Food," he said in the same even tone then laid it back on the tray. He smiled again then took a step back. "Good night."
Slowly, he turned and even though he felt like running as hard as he could for the cabin, Scott took his time but did hazard a glance or two over his shoulder to make sure the bear was not following. When he got to the steps, he turned and looked back toward the garbage drums to see the flitter of a white image as it moved behind the barrels and saw the banana float up and disappear behind the third drum. He smiled then turned and went into the cabin and closed the door.
The following morning, Scott Lyndon's first stop was the third garbage drum and he smiled down at the empty tray. As he reached to pick it up he saw something fall from it and looked down to the ground to see the banana peel. It was peeled perfectly. He laid the peel on the tray and headed for the office.
"Bringing your breakfast to the office now?" Steve Lyndon teased when he saw his brother enter.
Scott grinned then sat the tray on the desk in front of his brother. "I wanted you to see this."
"Uh-huh. That's a banana peel. I'd recognize it anywhere."
"I found that on the tray this morning. I added a banana to her supper last night."
Steve Lyndon's frown was instant. "She knows how to peel a banana?"
"I can't see the bear teaching her that."
"Neither can I." Steve looked up at his brother. "I don't think I learned how to peel a banana till I was four or five."
Scott nodded. "I remember Mom used to send one in my lunch when I was in first grade. She had to have been taught that before she ended up in the wild."
"Agreed. But that still doesn't get us any closer to finding out who she is."
"No it doesn't. But right now that's the furthest thing from my mind. My main concern is winning her trust. I think I took a step toward that last night."
"Oh?"
Scott revealed the happenings of the previous evening and what he had witnessed.
“What are you going to do if you do win her trust?"
"I don't know. I guess I'll cross that bridge when I get there."