Climbing up the valley, loosely following the flow from the spring, became more and more difficult. The closer he was to the stream the more saturated the ground was with water and Daniel found himself having to stop frequently to pull his boots with his hands up out of the mud. He started making a practice of crossing the stream where there were larger boulders on which to do so in an effort to maintain contact with it, but generally kept his path wallowing back and forth from ridge top to ridge top on either side of it. He was keeping dryer that way, somewhat, and he was also able to make out a little distance up the valley ahead as he did so. On reflection, he felt that’s why the earlier vision may not have stuck strictly to the path of the stream either.
Nearly two hours had passed since leaving the pickup behind on the road and Daniel clamored over a rocky shelf in the valley where the stream formed a small waterfall for a couple feet. Above was a mucky swamp-like area with a pool reflecting in the middle of it. A dry summer season might have made the area a nice place to stop and take a drink from the waterfall and throw rocks into the pool, but in the rain the entire flat was miserable and covered with scum from decaying leaves and other things.
Daniel backed up against the south-eastern ridge, keeping the stream somewhat to his right. He sat down on a large boulder near a spruce tree to take a brief rest.
Damn! he chided himself. The one thing he’d forgotten to bring was a canteen to drink from. Plenty of water flowing all around and pouring upon him but he didn’t think of a way to keep himself from getting dehydrated. He looked up, contemplating dropping back down the rock ridge to get a drink from the waterfall when he saw two red flints flash at him from across the marshy pool.
It was the shaman. He stood there in deep shadow, watching. No expression could be read. It was just observing. They locked stares for only an instant and then the shadow bounded up the ridge on that side of the valley, shaking trees and causing a stone to come tumbling down the hill back towards the marsh, clunking on large rocks as it rolled.
Daniel had tensed. His fingers were attempting to carve holds into the stone upon which he sat. After a moment of silence except for the drips of rain from trees around him Daniel started reasoning again. Maybe it was just a deer. But it wasn’t. He knew there were no more questions in this game of shadows. He was coming for the shaman and the shaman was preparing for him in turn.
The waterfall lost its appeal after the confrontation. Daniel adjusted the pack on his shoulder and stood up to follow the stream on. He decided to stay on his side of the stream as much as possible. While the shaman did not hold the same power over him, Dan still felt fear and exercised caution. It was one of the reasons he didn’t care for hide-n-go-seek as a kid: the surprise leap from cover of someone for whom he was looking as he came near to their hiding spot was not a pleasant one for him.