Rose went in to make lunch. Donny leaned over and asked his grandfather, “Rose still do her psychic thing?”
“Sure does, I don’t pay it much mind, but some folks in town go visit her from time to time. Wantin’ answers to their silly questions.” He said.
Donny had heard rumors while growing up about Rose having séances at midnight, and gazing into a crystal ball and whatnot. Brushing it off as just gossip, he figured it was just talk from the small minded town’s folk.
Larry Smith and his grandson now waited patiently on the porch for Rose to serve their lunch trays. She insisted they eat off the trays, and outside, so it would be easier for her to clean up any mess they made. She came forth with food and drink.
The retired ranger munched on his sandwich as he continued with his story.
I arrived before daybreak at the Turner’s place. I could hear Frank out in his truck, blowing the horn. I walked across the field to where Frank was parked. He explained his plan to use Queenie to locate her pup. So I started out on my own. I wanted to explore the gully the old timers talked about; it had been formed during an earthquake some years earlier.
The forest had a thick smothering under growth with no trails or paths to follow. I’d been out an hour or so working my way through the dense brush, looking for landmarks. I was listening for sounds from the lost pup. Without warning, I suddenly stumbled, and fell into a deep crevice. The narrowness of the crevice held me in an upright position, as I fell feet first. There seemed to be no bottom, as I scraped, and rubbed against the rough and jagged sides. I finally wedged to a halt. Both of my legs were twisted under me.
After the small rocks and dirt settled, I was now conscious of severe pain in my right leg. It must be broken I thought. I started to feel nauseated, and faint. I struggled to reach the whistle in my shirt pocket, all the while praying I’d have enough air in my lungs to blow it. I could barely see due to all the dust in my eyes, and the sides of the crevice pushed against my chest, as I tried to breathe. Death entered my mind as I struggled to maintain a positive attitude. For a short time I fell reproachfully silent.
After a sleepless night, the lost puppy cautiously looked around. The forest seemed to be safe. From his hiding place, he hadn’t heard any noise, or frightening sounds for several hours. His ears perked straight up, turned forward, as he scanned the area in all directions. Sniffing the air, he slowly moved from his safe haven. With his nose to the ground, he checked for a familiar scent.
Suddenly, he stopped, and crouched into a defensive stance. Wheeling to his right to face the odd sound, he strained to listen. Nothing but silence met his ears. Moving forward his nervous fear turned to curiosity as the strange sound came at him again. Silently he continued in the direction of the odd sound. Looking down, he now found himself peering into a deep, dark hole. His keen sense of smell announced the presence of a man. Confirmation came as the man moved and the pups eyes zeroed in on his target.
The trapped ranger was unaware the pup was above him. Unable to take a deep breath he blew the whistle with all his might. The horrendous, sharp blast rang forth into the pup’s ears. Leaping backward, the stunned pup responded with a loud bark, followed by a growl.
Rose finished her lunch, and then proceeded to take up the trays from the two men. Donny hadn’t quite finished, but he didn’t make a fuss. Rose flip-flopped into the house with the trays.
The retired ranger rocked back and forth slowly waiting for her return. Once she settled in he began again.
Frank was nearly run over, as he stood in the middle of the Carmichaels drive. As they got out, with Queenie in tow, he explained what had happened, and that they needed Queenie’s assistance.
“Where was the last place you saw the pup,” Harry asked snapping his leash to Queenie’s collar.
“Last time I saw him he was on the front porch asleep.” Frank quickly explained about Ranger Smith already out looking for the lost pup for an hour or so.
Queenie was led to the front porch; she quickly picked up the scent. Harry removed the leash and she jumped off the porch heading across the field.
“We may as well go inside. No tellin’ how long the search will last,” Virginia said to Ann.
The men hustled across the field, trying to keep pace with Queenie. She moved ahead, and entered the forest. They lost sight of her.
“We’ll never catch up. Let’s go in about a hundred yards and wait for her to talk to us. When she gets close, she’ll stat a series of high pitched barks. Then we can locate her,” Harry said.
Queenie tracked from the strong scent of her puppy. Locating the direction the pup took, she moved on.
The pup stood over the trapped ranger as if guarding him from some unseen evil force. Providing soft barks, from time to time, as if he was trying to reassure the ranger that all would be okay.
Queenie moved swiftly through the woods as she finally located her offspring. The pup licked her face in surprise and relief.
Ranger Smith heard the commotion, straining to look up he focused in on the two dogs. What a wonderful sight he thought. Help must be near at hand.
Queenie started her barking call, which Frank and Harry responded to immediately. They had been sitting on an old log discussing cures for athlete’s foot. Unaware of what they were about to find, they forced their way through the thick brush.
Frank slapped a mosquito on his neck, “That must have been the mother of all mosquitoes.”
Harry glanced over, “She left a nice size welt. Them little black suckers are the mean ones.”
Three startled rabbits scampered in different directions when Frank stepped over a log, almost right on top of them. “I wish they wouldn’t do that. Scares the daylights out of me.”
They started to work up a sweat when they reached Queenie and her pup.
“Hot damn, you found your pup. Good girl,” Harry said rubbing and scratching her.
Frank picked up the pup and examined him. “Look’s to be in fine shape, fine shape indeed.”
With a smile, retired ranger Smith told his grandson, “Boy, was I happy when I heard what was taking place above me. I shouted as loud as I could.”
Harry dropped to his knees, and saw the ranger. Turning to Frank, “There’s a guy down there.”
Frank rushed to his side, lost his balance, and bumped into Harry almost knocking him in the crevice. Frank grabbed Harry’s arm, and stopped him from falling in.
Peering into the dark hole, Frank’s eyes finally focused on the man staring back, “Is that you Ranger Smith?!”
They could hardly hear his muffled, raspy reply. Frank removed his ball cap, and scratching his head, “How we gonna get’em out?”
“I got an idea. I’ll take the dogs to the house. Then I’ll have the girl’s phone the sheriff’s office. I’ve got an extension ladder, and a strong rope. With help, we can get him outta there,” Harry said.
“Don’t just stand there wastin’ time, get movin,’ I’ll wait here with the ranger,” Frank said.
The girl’s saw them coming and ran across the field to meet Harry. Handing the puppy to Ann, “Hold onto him. Don’t let him down. I don’t want him to follow me when I go back. The ranger fell in a deep ravine. I need my ladder and some rope to get him out.”
Harry found the equipment he needed without difficulty. Hoisting the coil of rope over his shoulder, he lifted the ladder, and centered his weight as he carried it. Ann had already notified the sheriff’s office.
Harry said, “Tell the deputies he’s about a mile west of the two large oak trees. I need Queenie to guide me back, but I’ll send her back to guide them to us.”
Stumbling through the forest, he now realized how difficult it was to carry the rope, and ladder through the quagmire of growth. Slowing down, he tried to keep the ladder from snagging onto every tree limb and bush.
Frank had removed most of the underbrush from around the site. A few moments later he heard them coming.
“My adrenalin has gone ka-put. Let me catch my breath,” Harry said slumping down to sit.
Frank uncoiled the rope, and lowered one end to the trapped ranger, “This’ll give you something to hold onto.”
Reaching for the rope, “I got it. Lower it a little more, and I’ll tie it around me,” he said in a weak voice. He struggled to secure the rope. Every movement was painful. Wedged in too tight, he couldn’t wrap the rope around his chest. “Pull the rope up, and tie a loop on the end with a slip knot. Then lower it over my arms. I’ll try to hold them up, and work it over them,” his voice growing weaker.
Frank fashioned a slip knot, and lowered it over the outstretched arms of the ranger. Working the rope under his arms and securing it to his chest, the ranger was now exhausted. Frank tied the other end to a large tree for support.
Harry regained his strength, and helped with the ladder. They extended it to where it almost touched the ranger.
Frank dragged a large tree limb across the ground. “Don’t do anything until we secure the ladder,” he called to the ranger. Shoving the limb through the ladder rungs, he rested the ends on each side of the crevice. “Everything is ready up here. Are you ready down there?”
“All my weight is on my legs. I can’t move myself up the ladder. Pull the slack out of the rope, and lift the weight off my legs.”
They pulled the rope tight. Feeling the weight of the ranger, they continued to pull slowly while being as careful as possible.
Gritting his teeth as the pain shot through his body, the ranger yelled, “That’s enough!” They stopped pulling, and held the rope steady.
His breathing was labored, “I got my good leg, and foot on the ladder. I think my other leg is broken, I can’t move it. I’ll try to tie myself to the ladder. Give me some slack.”
In the distance, they heard two gun shots. “That’s the rescue party,” Harry said. Signaling to Queenie, she took off to fetch the deputies.
Frank called to the ranger, “Take a breather, we’ll wait for the others to arrive. We’ll need all the help we can get to hoist you up.”
The deputies arrived and assisted in freeing the ranger. First aid was administered, and the ladder was used as a stretcher to carry him back to a waiting ambulance.
Frank and Virginia rested in bed after the two day ordeal. Pulling the covers around his neck, he cleared his throat, “Maybe we should get a mule. It could carry ladders and such in case another emergency arises.” Virginia pretended not to hear him. “I read in a poultry magazine, we can order fifty Dominicker chicks for a small price, and we could…”
Virginia bolted straight up in bed. With clenched teeth she said, “Not on your life! If you think I’m gonna wring their necks, soak them in scalding water, pick off their feathers, clean out their insides, fry them in a skillet, and place them in front of you, just to have you sit with tears in your eyes, because you can’t eat your little friends, you’re sadly mistaken. No chickens! And no mule either! Now go to sleep!”
After a few moments of silence, “Honey, how do you feel about Angora Rabbits?” Frank asked sheepishly.