Prompt: Write a story set entirely in a canoe
It was the fifth day and provisions were in short supply. I had eaten my last oreo for breakfast this morning and my potable water had leaked out of my canteen overnight. This was becoming the canoe trip from hell. Pardon my French.
Every night I tied the canoe to an overhanging branch and fell half asleep, the bump of the canoe against the rocks scaring me awake every few minutes. Exhaustion was starting to haunt me. Bushes rustling in the breeze were grizzlies, rabbits banging through the undergrowth cougars, the loneliness and hunger were gnawing at my sanity. I needed to find someone, anyone.
Yesterday I had watched a doe and her fawn drink at the river’s edge. Both animals were in robust health, so the water had to be safe otherwise I would think they would be showing signs of illness. I dipped my canteen into the black water and filled it. It smelled okay. I tipped a little onto a glass slide and slid it into my microscope. A world of little creatures wiggled and danced in the eyepiece. I drained the canteen. Perhaps by tonight I could find a safe place to land and get a fire going, someplace I could sterilize my equipment again. Maybe even a village with an extra bed.
I dipped the paddle back into the water. My compass said I was going south-east and my watch’s battery had died last night. This river was supposed to be going west, I should have made it to the lake on Wednesday.
The sun was overhead when I first noticed the shadow just inside the forest keeping pace with me. It moved silently but steadily. It stood seven feet, and I knew a bear would have dropped to all fours by now. This creature was bipedal. I slowed the canoe and steadied it mid-river. I slid the camera from its bag and focused the lens on the shadow. It stopped. A twist of the lens and the creature’s face came into focus.
“No,” I whispered in awe. “It can’t be?”
The creature moved to the shore’s edge, breaking cover. I snapped photo after photo. This was the discovery of a lifetime.
He stepped into the water and screamed. The sound sent flocks of birds airborne. Fleeing their midday roosts, their own cries adding to the noise. The creature shook its fists in rage. Not sure if he could swim, I quickly stowed the camera and paddled with all my might.
He followed me along the shoreline, screams and roars, bellows sending shivers up my spine to the roots of my hair. I had invaded his territory.
The paddle splashed in and out of the water, my form was horrible, but that didn’t matter. I had to escape.
It was a different roar that made me stop. In my fear I hadn’t noticed that the currant had picked up nor the rocky edge ahead.
