A Night in Castle Crags

By David Seed

How do you explain to your girlfriend why you stood her up for a movie date? Especially when you had stood her up previously. Your solution, hinted at is unusual.
Of course, if you and two fellow college freshmen from Dunsmuir hike into the wilderness the day before, into an area of precipitous cliffs, and shoot at a bear with a .22 rifle, and are stymied in your return hike after finding yourselves at the top of a waterfall between sheer walls of granite when it’s getting too dark to see, you might decide to build a fire and spend the night, as Collins, Sanchez, and Dunnigan chose to do. And if that night in the mountains caused you to miss a date and you were challenged by a Mountain Lion, and you built the fire bigger, how is your girlfriend going to find fault?
The reader might wonder what enticed these young men to hike into the Castle Crags in the first place and what else could it have been than to search for and find the Wells Fargo cash box stolen from a stage coach in the mid-1800s. What they learned was that the Castle Crags is a much more challenging geologic feature that just being a tourist attraction viewed from a distance.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Western Grebe Publishing
• Release date: Jun 7, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370983230

David Seed

###About the author:David Seed was born August 15, 1931 in Minot, North Dakota. In his eleventh year the family moved to Dunsmuir, California where he graduated high school, believing himself to be a writer. In the fall of 1949 he started at the University of California at Berkeley and did his best to learn what he could of life. He managed to graduate in the spring of 1956 and continued to follow his calling, experiencing a chaotic life as both participant and observer. He is now an old man writing books in Oregon.

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A Night in Castle Crags

by David Seed

Smashwords Edition

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Published on Smashwords by

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Copyright 1979 and 2017 by David Seed

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Smashwords Edition, License Notes

Thank you for buying this ebook. It is licensed for your personal enjoyment and may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you want to share this book, please purchase another copy to share. If you’re reading this book and didn’t buy it, please buy a copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

About the Author

Chapter One

Early October, 1950

The old Buick rocked slightly, and the tires thumped as they went across the lines between the slabs of concrete. I relaxed back and imagined we were out on the lake and little waves were lapping at the sides of the boat, but I couldn't stay there for long. I was hot and sweaty. I wanted to go over the side, clothes and all, and splash into the cool water.

I looked out the open window, and the hot wind whipped across my face and made my eyes burn. The ditch alongside the highway was all yellow and brown with dead grass and weeds. The stubble in the fields was bleached white in the burning sun.

I gave a sigh and glanced over at Dunnigan who was driving. He was sitting up very straight and holding the top half of the steering wheel with both hands. He wore glasses and had on his special tinted glasses for driving. I noticed the serious look on his face as he studied the road ahead.

A big diesel truck sped towards us and roared past like a great charging bull. The old Buick shuddered against the sudden blast of hot air, but Dunnigan didn't flinch or lose his concentration.

Hey, it's hot, he said.

Yeah, how's the temperature doing? I asked, and Dunnigan glanced at the gauge.

We're still okay. It's not going up any.

That's good. I listened to the steady groan of the engine and considered it was doing as well as could be expected. Dunnigan held the speed at an easy fifty-five.

We can stop in Red Bluff and check the oil if you want to, he said.

No, we'll make it to Redding easy. Then we can stop and fill up the tank.

I settled back and started to study the highway. It stretched out as straight as a string and seemed to melt into the distance. I never did like a straight road. It was unnatural, and it was a depressing sight in the heat of the day.

I wish it wasn't so hot, I said.

You're the one who wanted to skip afternoon classes and get an early start.

Yeah, I know.

We could've taken our time, and things would've been cooler.

I suppose, but we wouldn't have gotten home until the middle of the night.

What's wrong with that?

Well, nothing...ordinarily.

Oh, now I understand. Dunnigan had a funny little smile on his face. He glanced at me and then back at the road. You're thinking about Josephine Clark, aren't you? I'll bet you've got a date with her.

Well, I did write to let her know I'd be home early tonight.

Uh huh. Dunnigan nodded.

I mean she's expecting me, and I don't want to stand her up.

That girl sure has you in line.

You remember the last time we went fishing, don't you?

Sure, before we left for school.

Well, I had a date with Josephine Clark that night, but we didn't get back until after midnight.

You're the one who wanted to fish Squaw Creek.

Yeah, but you didn't tell me how far we'd have to hike to get to the fish.

I seem to recall you thought it was some pretty good fishing.

Sure, and I forgot all about my date with Josephine Clark. She's still upset about that one.

What's she like anyway?

Huh?

You know what I mean. Dunnigan smiled again. What's she like?

She's just fine, I said.

What've you been doing? You've been going with her for over a year now, so you must be doing plenty.

I'm not giving out any details.

Well, I don't blame you. Dunnigan shrugged his shoulders. I'll bet she's pretty nice though.

Yeah, she's pretty nice all right.

As we went over the top of a slight rise, I studied the highway far ahead and spotted a black lump of something on our side of the road

It's a dead cat, Dunnigan said quickly. It's got to be a cat.

No, it's a skunk, I decided. We were bearing down on it, but I still couldn't tell what it was for sure.

No, it's got to be a... Dunnigan stopped talking as the sudden odor of skunk broke in to settle the argument.

We rolled up the windows as fast as we could, but that didn't do any good. As we roared past the dead skunk, its overpowering stink seemed to rise straight up and envelop us.

For Pete's sake. Dunnigan screwed up his face. Then, he turned his head and glared at me. That's the worst thing I've ever smelled, Collins. That's horrible!

Well, don't get mad at me. I held up my hands. I don't like it either. I didn't run over that skunk.

Man alive, that's a terrible smell.

He went on about it, and I could see there wasn't anything I could say to make him feel any better. We rolled down the windows and tried to air out the car, but the odor lingered for a long time. Dunnigan's comments concerning the offensive smell lasted just as long.

Collins, it's too hot for all this, and it's too hot to be running over dead skunks. Holy mackerel how can it be this hot in October?

Well, it's Indian summer. That's what it is.

It's Indian summer all right.

Yeah.

I wonder why they call it Indian summer?

Oh, it's a great time for Indians. It's a time for hunting and for gathering food and for laying in stores for the winter. I can't think of a better time for being an Indian.

Well, I don't know about all that. Dunnigan sighed, took a fresh grip on the steering wheel, and seemed resigned to concentrate on his driving.

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I relaxed back and gazed out the open window at the purple shaded distance. I knew that somewhere there were high green mountains and cold clear rivers that splashed and sparkled in the sun. Those faraway places were lost in time, and I was an Indian boy. My first remembrance was of a long hot summer that seemed it would never end.

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Chapter Two

Well, it's a hot day in Red Dog. Dunnigan wiped his forehead. You sure you don't want to stop?

Let's stop in Redding. Then we won't have so far to go.

Well, the shortest distance between two points is no rest stops. Dunnigan gave a steady push on the gas pedal, and the engine groaned to a high pitch again as we hit the open highway.

I looked ahead and noticed a flattened cardboard box in the middle of the road. The tires barely thumped as we ran over it.

You just ran over a dead box, I said.

A dead box? Dunnigan laughed. What are you talking about? How can a box be dead anyway?"

Cardboard's made out of wood, isn't it? I asked, but didn't wait for an answer. That box was once a part of a living tree.

Would you like to play Animal, Vegetable, or Mineral? Dunnigan glanced at me and smiled. He could always get the best of me playing Animal, Vegetable, or Mineral.

No, I don't want to play Animal, Vegetable, or Mineral.

Well, what do you want to do?

I don't know...I'm tired of watching this highway. Just look at it. It's a wasteland and a regular insult against nature. Nothing can grow on it. The bugs can't even survive it, and anything that wanders onto it gets squashed flat. I'm beginning to think highways are plain stupid. Things were better in the old days.

Are you crazy? Dunnigan glanced at me and shook his head. The highway system holds this country together. We're a nation on wheels. Think of all the money that's spent on highway construction. I think that driving a car is a privilege, and I appreciate the freedom to travel.

If this is freedom, how come I feel like I'm all tied up inside this car with my nose pointed straight down that white line?

Well, we can't hike all the way from Berkeley to Dunsmuir.

Hey, that would be a great thing to do. We could take our backpacks, our sleeping bags, and...

What are you talking about? It would take us two or three weeks to hike that far.

We could take along our rifles and poles, and we could follow the Sacramento and be hunting and fishing the whole way.

That's crazy, Dunnigan said. We'd be trespassing all over the place. You'd go hunting on someone's private property, and we'd land in jail.

That's my point exactly.

What do you mean? What's your point?

Think about all those people who own all that land. They don't want us coming around hunting and fishing all the time, do they? So what do all those people do?

I don't know what your point is, but I'm beginning to understand why people post their property.

All those people get together, and they build this highway and confine us to it.

What? Dunnigan started to laugh.

Look at the facts, I said. This isn't a car we're in. We're in a metal cage that moves, and we're hurtling down this narrow strip of concrete that goes on and on. We can't turn to the right or to the left, and we can't stop. We have to keep moving faster and faster until we think this highway's something real and everything else is some kind of illusion.

You're nuts, Collins. We're just going home, that's all. You'll feel better when we see some mountains.

Yeah, you're right, I said. I sure would like to do some hunting. What do you say we go hunting tomorrow?

That's fine with me, Dunnigan said.

Let's just take our 22's and go out and see what we can get.

Don't we always?

I'd like to shoot me a big bear.

Well, I don't know about all that. Dunnigan glanced at me to see if I was serious. You better bring along something bigger than your single shot.

No, I believe in giving a bear a chance.

I'm not sure they're in season.

When did that ever stop us? I asked.

It might be hard to keep a bear a secret.

We could make a lot of bearburger out of him, I said. Can't you just see a big bearburger steak with French fries?

You'd have to cook it well-done. Dunnigan glanced at me again.

Sure, that's just the way I like them.

You've eaten bearburgers before?

No, but the first time has got to be the best.

You've got me there, Dunnigan laughed. Do you think Sanchez will be home?

Sure, he'll go bear hunting with us.

Yeah, I'll make sure he brings along his two-seventy.

Pheasant! There's a pheasant! I pointed straight ahead.

Where? Dunnigan asked and sat up straighter.

By the side of the road. I pointed again.

Oh, he's a beauty, Dunnigan said. Then he started to slow down. Maybe he'll jump our way, and we'll have us a pheasant.

"Yeah, don't smack