“Da, Captain. I did just that.” He turned back to the map. “We caught an Indian the next morning, but couldn’t get him to talk before he died.”
“There are techniques,” she began.
“He threw himself on my knife when I began skinning him.”
“Oh. Please continue.”
“That’s when they discovered we were on their trail and they split up their party. We did the same. I followed the group with your friend in it.”
“He’s not my friend,” she said in a flat voice.
“They set up an ambush here at the trail junction, right where I thought they would. We flanked them and moved in. Again I had a Cossack volunteer who agreed to be first into the open.”
Bear licked his lips and continued. “When nobody shot at him, he thought we’d been wrong. He walked up through the meadow toward the junction.
“But I had spotted the convict in the photograph. He also spotted me, so I pretended not to see him. When I wished to move, I stared at a tree behind him. As soon as he looked away in curiosity, I ran behind him and fired.”
“How is it that you missed?”
“When he looked back and I wasn’t there, he had the presence of mind to drop to the ground. My shot went over him. I fired a second time but he had already rolled clear, down the slope away from me.”
“Hmm, perhaps his old training has resurfaced after all.”
“He was scared pissless and reacting to the moment. Then much shooting happened and the Cossack dropped. I slipped into an old wolf den and waited with my knife and rifle for them to discover me.”
“You were outnumbered, weren’t you?”
“I would not have died alone.”
“They obviously didn’t discover you.”
“No. After they left I found my dead friend and then I returned here.”
“How many were in their party?”
“Four.”
“How many were in your party?”
“Four.”
“How many of your party came back?”
“Only me. What are you trying to say?”
“I thought you promyshlenniks were the best woodsmen in Alaska.”
“We are,” he said with a growl.
“After the Indians, it would seem.”
Bear glared at her but didn’t respond. Her words hit too close to thoughts he himself had endured.
“You can show me this place?” she said.
“Of course. But there is no reason.”
“Why not?”
“I heard them say they had far to go. They are probably in winter camp on the Yukon or lower Tanana.”
“Actually,” she said, “we know exactly where they are.”
“Where?”
“Right here,” her shellacked fingernail tapped the map once, “on the Toklat River at a village of the same name.”
“If you knew this before you came, why do you ask me where I last saw the man?”
“I wanted to hear your story, firsthand accounts are always revealing. Besides, we need qualified people in on this, and between your experience in the bush and your raging animosity toward our quarry, you fit right in. You begin collecting field pay as of now.”
“What do you plan to do about the traitor’s camp?”
“Actually, it depends on the traitors.” Her smile lacked warmth.
19
“Often we send out two-man reconnaissance parties,” Chan explained. “So for your final field test, you two are to go across the Toklat and follow the big game trail to the East Fork of the Toklat River. Go north up the East Fork until you come to a wide valley.
“Turn west there and follow the trail through the mountains until you hit the Toklat again. Then follow it home. This is about thirty-five to forty kilometers and will be an excellent exercise for you.”
“How long do we have?” Nik asked.
“If we don’t see you after two weeks have passed, we’ll send out search parties.”
“Looks simple enough to me,” Grisha said.
“It always does, on a map,” Haimish said.
“When do we leave?” Grisha asked.
“Within the hour.”
“Can we use skis rather than snowshoes?” Nik asked.
“Whatever you wish,” Chan said.
Cora sat off to one side of the small group, her eyes fastened on Nik.
“Good. If we had to use snowshoes, it would take Grisha a month to make the trip.”
A few people chuckled. Grisha went into the main hall to get food for the journey. The tension generated by the meeting didn’t dissipate. He wondered at it.
Wing stepped out of the kitchen and gave him a bulky bag made from soft moose hide. He stared at her face. Over the past few weeks they had fallen into conversation many times, on many subjects.
He found her intelligence impressive, but her courage awed him. At this point there existed a palpable tension between them that both chafed and titillated him. He felt good whenever he saw her.
“There’s jerked moose, squaw candy, and trail mix.” Her eyes moved over his face. “Be careful, okay? I’ll miss you.” She leaned forward and quickly kissed him on the mouth.
Before he could say anything, she hurried back into the kitchen.
It took most of an hour to get their gear arranged. Finally, burdened with backpacks and bows, they skied off across the frozen Kantishna into the November afternoon. Grisha hoped the tension would vanish once they cleared the village. It didn’t.
After an hour passed, he pulled off the game trail they followed and waited for Nik to stop beside him.
“Are you worried because they made us take bows rather than rifles?” Grisha asked.
“No. I’m not worried at all.” Nik’s eyes constantly swept the land around them, his right cheek had developed a tic, and he chewed at his bottom lip.
“Okay, if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s all right with me.”
“Good,” Nik said, pushing off down the trail. Grisha stepped into the ski tracks and followed.
A man could come to love this sort of life. He thought back to his previous apprehension of the forest, of thinking himself unable to survive in it, and smiled.
It had all turned out like some fantastic hunting trip. His health had improved beyond previous experience. Not an ounce of fat could be found on his body, despite obvious weight gain.
He liked his new beard, but the things he missed most were his razor and beer. These people were worse than priests about alcohol. Wing told him once that vodka was liquid chains in a bottle.
“The promyshlenniks would get our men drunk before trading and then steal their furs and gold with more bottles.” Her voice rang with intensity in his mind.
“Wait a minute,” he said aloud to himself, faltering in his long, sliding stride. “She said ‘gold’! Why the hell didn’t I ask her more about that?”
He picked up his stride, remembering back to the afternoon. After snowshoeing all day he had been more interested in the immediate gratification of dinner than the acquisition of Athabascan Indian history. Gold?
Until this moment he hadn’t given the Dená Republic decent odds of becoming reality. But if they had gold reserves they could eventually obtain anything else in the world. In Japan and the California Republic there existed things that to him were nearly unimaginable.
Radio that told stories and played music, not just weather reports and military communications. More than that, they could get electricity up here. He wondered if electrical power could be had outside the redoubts, or if it was only for Russians.
If you had gold, you could buy helicopters. He wondered if Haimish knew the Dená had gold. Probably; despite his philosophy there had to be a compelling reason for the small man’s presence.
Ahead of him, Nik came to the base of a ridge and began to fishbone up the steep side. Why was Nik so nervous? Did he fear being away from towns or villages? He had said he was raised in the city of St. Nicholas on Cook’s Inlet.