17C and sunny but earlier it was about 9.
Was busy from 7am yesterday. Moving everything out of the garage to the driveway for our garage sale. First person arrived just after 8 then  a steady stream until noonish. What didn't sell went to the Thrift Store and to The Salvation Army. Garage looks pretty good!
Because of the above I didn't get on here yesterday. We did have a good rain Friday afternoon and evening, first measurable rain since the middle of July.

‘Guess I’ll just gather wood and lay low for the day.’

  The clouds and intermittent rain remained for three more days, Nat put in the time with occasionally spearing a fish, checking his snares and keeping the fire going.  Most of the time he went naked after he found that the mud, exposed when the pond was drained worked as a repellent to the various biting insects that were becoming prevalent.

  On the fifth day of cloud and rain he noticed that the river had risen by several inches, enough that his underwear flag was now surrounded by water.

  He remembered being told that all the rivers usually had severe floods in July following the June rains and the snow melt high in the mountains.  He had noted the high water marks high on the trees and came to the realization that if the river rose more than three or four feet he would be forced back into the bush and up to higher ground.  There would be no chance of rescue in that event.

  As he stared out at the river rushing by a memory or was it an echo of a thought passed through his mind.  “If things don’t work out, I’ll know that I have done my best, I will set a deadline to be found and then I will move on. If what I do or don’t do doesn’t work. I understand it has nothing to do with fairness.  I guess the best answer is what is – is and my job is to either accept it or change the ‘is’.

He thought ‘ hmm don’t know where that came from, but it’s true and I have to prepare to move on.’  Jumping to his feet Nat looked about, ‘I need a log, no two logs, two to make sort of a raft.’  He remembered that there was one on the surface of the pond’s logjam that was about a manageable size, from where he stood he couldn’t see anything else that was suitable.  He couldn’t remember anything up the beach towards where the Liard ran out so he headed down stream along the river side of the island of trees.  About half way along he spotted a log, longer but of similar diameter to the one in the jam.

  Without hesitation he set to work to get the log out of the trees and on to the beach.  To do so he had to raise and prop up one end and slide a smaller log for a roller underneath. After a great deal of trying frustration he got the first roller under; the end in the bush was easier as it was half raised already. He jammed a third one in the middle then dragged several more to lay down in front of the log. The next task was to get it to move out and down the slope of the beach. He found a longer pry bar, jammed it under the end in the bush and heaved and lifted with all his strength.  The log didn’t move.  He pried the back end higher and put a bigger roller under it and tried again to move it forward to no avail.  The rollers couldn’t roll and the log wouldn’t slide.  He went back to camp and fetched the nylon rope.  One end he fastened to the end of the log he took the other end looped it around a tree right at the edge of the beach and tied that end to the log as well. He took a weathered chunk of wood, inserted it in the rope’s bight and started windlassing the rope.  At first nothing happened then finally the log moved forward a few inches.  He unwound the rope, took up the slack and started twisting again.  Suddenly it moved ahead almost a full foot!  He unwound the rope again, removed it from the log and again lifted and pried at the back end.  As he strained as hard as he could the log lurched ahead, picked up momentum and slid along on the rollers and then stopped a full length and a half out on the beach as abruptly as it had started.

  The abrupt forward movement caused Nat to stumble, trip and ram his face into the dirt and rocks.  Half stunned he rolled on his side and wiping the dirt away found he was bleeding from where a stick had jabbed his cheek.  Needing a bit of a break after all his exertion he walked down to the river and washed himself off. He could feel a small flap of skin on his cheek but the cool water slowed the blood flow so he decided to leave it alone for the present and work on the log some more.

  The log was quite round with no protruding limb stubs, so Nat decided to turn the log ninety degrees then roll it down the beach. 

  An inch, two inches at a time he pried lifted and pushed and after a couple of hours finally had the log in position to start rolling.  As he started seating a pry he thought ‘no better wait, if I get it to the water and the river comes up I could lose it, it can stay here until I get the other one ready.’