The First Night

[Stephen Whiteside]

The First Night

© Stephen Whiteside 13.10.2011

Night began to fall. Horatio felt very frightened. He had never spent a night alone before. It felt very strange. What is more, he had nowhere to sleep. He was cold, of course, and hungry. It occurred to him that he had not really stopped all day - other than to take a good look at the big wire contraption.

Then again, he had a desire to run. To travel. To put distance between himself and his home town, as much distance as possible. He was still fired up with the burning feeling of escape. Adrenaline was still running high. He was weary, but not exhausted, hungry but not starving. And he reminded himself of his earlier resolution to travel by night, and sleep by day.

What better time to start, then, than now? He would keep going. He would keep going until dawn, and then he would crash. But where was he going, anyway? It occurred to him that he might even be running in circles! Who knows, over the next rise he might find the old nursing home again! Arggh! Perish the thought! Truth was, though, he had just been moving forward in a blind, random fashion. He could be anywhere. He imagined he was by now miles from home, but it was true, he might still only be just around the corner!

Clearly, more planning was required. Time to sit down and think. First, he was going to need water. A steady supply. He’d managed today sipping from puddles. It was not long since the last shower, and there was plenty of ground water available. But Horatio was smart enough to realise this may not always be the case. He needed to find a creek of some sort. This would kill two birds with one stone, also solving the question of navigation. Creeks don’t flow in circles, so if he could simply follow a creek, he should be taken in a reasonably straight line. Eventually the creek would lead to a river, and the river to the sea. Horatio wasn’t sure whether he wanted to see the sea or not, but that was a question that could wait until later. Many bridges to cross before then. Literally, no doubt.

First job, then, to find a creek. It struck him that he had already crossed a couple during the course of the day. He could not believe how stupid he had been! What had he been thinking? What strange instinct had been dictating his navigation up until now?

He took in the lay of the land. The sun had dipped below the horizon, and the dark was obscuring all. The land seemed to be dipping down from left to right. East or west? North or south? That didn’t really matter for now. He just needed to find a water course. So he turned to the right and started picking his way slowly across the uneven ground.

He suddenly became aware of the darkness. He was no longer so surefooted, and stumbled occasionally on a clod of dirt or sharp twig. His feet were sore, no doubt about it. Oh, to have his good old boots with him, now! Even just for his back feet. He could take it in turns, front and back, or left and right, or even diagonally, and give at least some of his feet the protection they so badly needed.

Patterns started to flash through his mind. Two back, two front. Two left, two right. Right forward, left back. Left forward, right back. Then back to the beginning and start all over again. Concentrate, Horatio! he admonished himself. Time to focus on the world outside, not retreat inside the mind. He recognised this was a bit of a habit of his, and it did not always serve him well - though often it did, it must also be said. But not in a situation like this.

He continued downwards. As long as he was following a downward slope, he should be OK. Of course, it wasn’t quite that simple. There were folds in the land, and sometimes the ground was level, or even seemed to rise a little, but as long as he allowed himself to rise only for short periods of time, he should be OK. Keep searching for the lower ground.

He heard it before he saw it. An unmistakeable high pitched tinkle. He had been told wild rats could smell water. He’d always laughed at the idea, until now. What was the point, when you only had to go to the tap? Well, there were no taps now, and he saw this skill in a whole new light! Perhaps one day, he’d be able to smell water too, but right now he couldn’t. He could hear it, though, or at least, he thought he could, and that was enough.

Down, down, down he walked and the noise grew louder. The trees seemed higher and thicker now. That must be a good sign. Water means growth. More water, more growth. The birds were silent, too. The eagles and hawks had returned to their nests. That was a good thing. He didn’t mind that. In fact, that was another good reason to travel at night. Bats would be out, of course, but he wasn’t afraid of them. A bat might tackle a mouse, perhaps, but not a big strong rat like Horatio! He was pretty sure he could beat off a bat without too much difficulty.

Then a chilling thought stuck him. Owls! Nightjars! Frogmouths! All of these birds were nocturnal! Would they eat rats? He wasn’t sure, but he was pretty sure a big owl would eat a rat like him. He gulped in horror. Furthermore, there’d be no warning shadow at night time. Just a flurry of wings in the air above him, and the excruciating pain of a big, sharp beak clamping itself on the back of his neck, trying to break his spine.

Still, what could he do? He had to take his chances, that’s all, and just hope he’d learn enough about his strange and dangerous new world to enable him to survive. The world was not full of enemies and danger. He was sure of that. There were good things in the world, too. Perhaps he’d make some friends. That would be fun! But once again, his imagination was taking over, and he was forgetting to focus on the world around him. Was the tinkling getting louder or softer? Was the creek getting closer or not? He really had no idea, so he stopped once more to take in his bearings.

No doubt about it, it was definitely louder. In fact, if he was not mistaken, his feet were wet. He put his nose to the ground, and sniffed. It was a strange, subtle smell. It must be water! The smell of water! Hey, he was learning fast! Then he thought, well it’s one thing to smell water when it’s half an inch from my nose, it’s quite another thing when it’s ten miles away. Don’t get too carried away, Horatio! Still, it was a start. He knew what he was looking for. Or smelling for.

But, yes, he was standing in water. It was only the slightest film, but it was running. He could feel it softly tickling his toes. It was running, which meant he was on a slope, and if he followed it, it might lead to a creek. Excited now, Horatio followed the water down, down, and down some more. He didn’t mind that his feet were wet. He was onto something. He had a definite sense of purpose, and a sense that, for the first time today, for the first time since he left the nursing home, he had conceived a plan, and it looked like bearing fruit. Fruit, now there was a thought! Perhaps he’d find some food beside the creek.

All in an instant, it was upon him. He was standing on the very edge of the bank, with his nose leaning out over the water and his nostrils twitching! A creek, no doubt about it, and quite a swift, deep one at that. How could he be sure? It was quite dark now, and there was no moon to light things up. But it was a sense of a ribbon of black that was blacker than everything around it. The stars were out. Perhaps that was it. The water did not reflect the star-light while the vegetation did. He didn’t know. It was just instinct, really. Barely thought out at all. But the creek was there, no doubt. He was saved! All he needed to do was follow the creek until morning, and then find a comfy little hide-away to sleep away the day! And food. Food would be nice. Definitely.