Climbing

Apr 23, 2025

Almost a month after the boy had disappeared, my troop was engaged in exploration. It was an odd day for me, as Father was in charge. Our troop leader was off at some meeting at the Gateway and wouldn’t be back until tomorrow. So for the last few days Father had been our troop leader.

We didn’t see him much though. We started out together, of course, and he gave us our instructions. But after that, we were on our own mostly.

In fact today we wouldn’t see him at all until we were done. The crack we were going to explore was extremely small- Father couldn’t fit into it. Indeed a couple of the troop had trouble-- they had to take off first their packs and then much of their clothes in order to get past a couple of tight spots.

But after about an hour of this work, the crack we were in came up into an enormous cave. We were excited. This would save us weeks of excavation once we reached it.

The cave went off to the right and to the left. Our leader split us into two groups and off we went. I was in the left group, the one which sloped gently upward and back the way we had come (although on a different level, if you see what I mean). We went on another hour, and came to a second break. The old cave continued on, but above us was a chimney.

Our second leader (our troop leader had gone with the first group) chose six of us to go up the chimney, myself included. His group stayed and helped us get up. We left a rope dangling to help us get back down.

I loved chimney climbing. It was hard work, but seemed more adventurous on that account. We went way, way up-- higher than I had ever gone before. About two hours up we came to a ledge with a cave leading off of it. We sat there for a while and ate, and then split up again. I got to go up, now with only two people with me.

Twice more we had the same experience. At the last one my friend Spitz looked at me and said, “I’m dead tired of doing chimney. I know you love it. Do you want to go up?”

I did, and said so. We ate a little more and I continued up.

But I didn’t get to do much more chimney, not proper chimney, anyway. After only about twelve more feet, the cave suddenly took a bend to the left and almost leveled out, only going up at about a forty-five degree angle. I wasn’t all that annoyed though, as I had been getting a bit tired.

I was forced to my hands and knees now. I would have walked except the ceiling was too low, even for me. I was getting more and more excited. I had been listening, not seeing, for the last several hours, so my sight was very inaccurate. But it seemed to me that perhaps there was a faint bit of light from up ahead.

I came to a corner, went around it, and was now sure. There was light coming from up ahead. This was a major find, another way out of the mountain. Depending on where it came out, a whole new series of farms could be placed here!

Now- I know none of you will believe me, but I will say it anyway. At this point, in my excitement, I completely forgot the new rule. As I hurried forward-- around the next several bends, all I could think of was my new discovery.

So when I finally reached the end of the cave, a hole that, although covered with ivy the light still shone through, I didn’t think twice but popped my head out into the open.

Or rather, not into the open. The ivy had covered a hole, beyond which was light, but the light was shining from a crack, not the open hillside. I looked uphill, and downhill. Uphill was definitely easier. Downhill looked like it vanished over the edge of a cliff, whereas I could see a grassy slope uphill.

The crack was narrow, even for me. I barely fit, and had to turn sideways at a couple of points. But I soon arrived onto the slope.

I looked around. It was a magnificent view. I was looking west, and the sun was getting close to setting over the highest of the surrounding peaks. Below me about a hundred feet, as I had seen from the crack, was a cliff. Above me was another cliff. Around me were acres of grassy meadows, stretching off to the north and south.

I moved to the edge of the crack, trying to see what was below the cliff below me. I bent down to try to see better down the crack. It looked like that cliff wasn’t so tall--

I never saw it coming. I had bent down just at the right time. My jacket, which I had slung over my shoulder, was suddenly ripped out of my hands. The force of the jerk sent me flying forward over the edge of the crack and I rolled down among the scree.

Above me I heard a flapping and rushing noise, and then the crack was in darkness. More by instinct than intelligence I kept moving down the crack. I heard something behind me and was bumped hard forward. Dwarves aren’t knocked off their feet easily, but I wasn’t on my feet, I was on my hands and knees, and I was on scree. I went tumbling forward through the ivy of my cave. And that saved me.

As I tumbled down I twisted, and landed on my feet, or my knees and feet, my head facing upward. I saw, framed above me in the ivy, a face; a triangular green face; a frustrated face.

The mouth opened and the neck craned forward, but it was obvious that the rest of the body was stuck above in the crack, and the head didn’t move more than a few inches. The breath was horrible, and the teeth were worse. The creature strained more, but didn’t gain more than a few inches.

And then-- it spoke. Not in intelligible words. I couldn’t tell what it said, although I could guess (and I imagine you could, too). But it spoke. I had just spent the last few months around other races. I had heard several languages, and was learning to speak one myself besides the two I already knew, and I could tell, this was a language.

The creature continued for several minutes to strain, and to curse. I was sure if I could understand the language Mother would not be happy I was hearing it. I lay, poised to flee if the creature seemed able to come any closer, but it never did. Indeed, when it decided to leave it took it quite some time for it to pry itself loose from its position. As it did I moved forward cautiously-- never coming close to what I had seen as its maximum reach. And so I got to see the rest of it.

It was a Dragon. I had heard, and told, too many fantasy stories to have any doubt about that. It was smaller than I would have expected a Dragon to be. Its body proper was not much larger than that of a Spearman, not counting its long neck, long tail, and wings. It was a grayish green. And smooth. It didn’t have any of the scales that Dragons are said to have, but a smooth green skin that reminded me of a Marshman or Fisherman.

And it was angry. It didn’t look back at me, but it was angry. Apparently it had wanted to see what ‘Dwarf boy’ tasted like, and was disappointed. I had no doubt that I had discovered the fate of my unfortunate compatriots. It kept up a running commentary with itself until it finally launched itself off of the cliff. I crawled, cautiously, to the downhill edge of the crack and watched it fly away.

It flew like an eagle, not a sparrow. It had launched itself off the cliff and over the valley. Then it flew in lazy spirals gradually going up and up. Gradually it flew off away. Trembling with excitement I went off down the crack.

There were two difficult things on the way back, and one almost cost me my life. The first difficult thing was keeping quiet about what I had seen, but that wasn’t hard. I just told each boy that we joined up with, “I must report first”. This excited their curiosity, as they could think of no possible reason why I couldn’t tell them what I had found. But they knew the rule well enough, and didn’t ask me any more questions.

But I found it almost impossible to climb down the chimney. The excitement of the attack and my discovery had left me trembling and weak. Together with my haste to report, I almost missed several key handholds, and at one point Spitz actually caught me in the act of falling.

“Get a grip,” he said, an expression that was more literal than figurative among us. I saw him watching me carefully for the rest of the descent.

We eventually reached the bottom and I settled myself down in a corner for a rest while the rest of the troop reported. I have no idea what they said, although I got the impression that I wasn’t the only one with impressive results; although no one could have results half as impressive as mine.

Finally, everyone else was done and Father started looking around for me. But my troop leader said, "Heinrich, your Son Sir, needs to give his report in private, so we will leave now."

—

Island People

Island People is a young adult fantasy book centring on a young prince. The book starts with his kidnapping and follows his adventures as he not only escapes from his kidnapper but gains critical allies and friends.

The entire book is scheduled on Substack, and there are several sequels. This is a book I wrote years ago, so it is in a bit of a rough form. Critiques and comments are more than welcome, they are requested.

Thank you for reading Von’s Substack. I would love it if you commented! I love hearing from readers, especially critical comments. I would love to start more letter exchanges, so if there’s a subject you’re interested in, get writing and tag me!

Being ‘restacked’ and mentioned in ‘notes’ is very important for lesser-known stacks so… feel free! I’m semi-retired and write as a ministry (and for fun) so you don’t need to feel guilty you aren’t paying for anything, but if you enjoy my writing (even if you dramatically disagree with it), then restack, please! Or mention me in one of your own posts.

If I don’t write you back it is almost certain that I didn’t see it, so please feel free to comment and link to your post. Or if you just think I would be interested in your post!

If you get lost, check out my ‘Table of Contents’ which I try to keep up to date.

Von also writes as ‘Arthur Yeomans’. Under that name he writes children’s, YA, and adult fiction from a Christian perspective. His books are published by Wise Path Books and include the children’s/YA books:

The Bobtails meet the Preacher’s Kid

The Bobtails and the Cousins

The Bobtails go to France

and

No Ordinary School

As well as GK Chesterton’s wonderful book, “What’s Wrong with the World”, for which ‘Arthur’ wrote most of the annotations.

Arthur also has a substack, and a website. On the substack you can listen to some of his published books. Free.

Thanks again, God Bless, Soli Deo gloria,

Von