Since Uncle Bart had given me his whistle as a gift, I decided to return the favor. I gave him the gift of meeting Ihaan for the first time before the rest of Camp Juniper. We scurried through the forest, and I frantically searched for the tree I had skewered. I found it, and guess who was pinned up against it? You’ve got it! Ihaan the Hermit! I struck a bullseye, which was strange because I usually stink at archery. He was dressed in his bear costume and a new pair of boots. Unlike his other ones, these boots were made out of animal fur. The arrow had gone through the mask of his bear costume. Don’t worry, I didn’t hurt him. I would never hurt Ihaan. I just wanted to prove to the rest of Camp Juniper that he really did exist.
At the sight of him, I blushed and let Uncle Bart’s hand go.
“What the?!” he yelled, and he fell down onto his bum, pulling his knees up close.
“Ihaan!” I yelled, and a grin stretched across my face. “I knew I wasn’t hallucinating! Here you go, Uncle Bart! This is my gift to you!”
“Wow, Little Red.” Ihaan stammered from where he hung. “You have a very strong arm.”
“I canoe, Ihaan.” I explained. “That’s why my arms are so strong.” Approaching him, I continued to grin. Ha, ha, I got him! I fished Ihaan out of hiding!
His wide, deep brown eyes landed on Uncle Bart, and pointing at him, he asked, “Um, who is that?!” in a startled voice.
“That’s my Uncle Bart, Ihaan,” I said, and I reached for the arrow. Just like that, I pulled it out, and Ihaan dropped to the ground. He tried to run, but I grabbed him by the ear again.
Ihaan cringed.
Uncle Bart sat frozen on the ground. He was so shocked.
Facing him, I asked, “See, Uncle Bart?” and I tightened my grip on Ihaan’s ear. “Ears, hair, fingers, nose, and toes! He is definitely a person!” I released Ihaan’s ear but grabbed him by the hair before he could get away. He wasn’t going anywhere.
“Can you at least let me take a shamble?” he begged. He started to run in place.
Uncle Bart finally asked him, “Am I scary?”
“Yes! Very!” Ihaan yelped.
Uncle Bart looked offended. “Well!” he said, and he brought his hand to his chest.
“Um,” stammered Ihaan, “I-I think I hear a tintinnabulation! It screams from over there!” He pointed into the forest, and Uncle Bart looked in that direction. I didn’t, though. I didn’t fall for that trick. I’ve seen it played too many times. To release himself, Ihaan elbowed me in the ribs. He started to run again, but like what I did before, I knocked him to the ground. This time, I grabbed him by the right leg and started to pull him back in the direction of Uncle Bart. Ihaan’s fingers slid on the ground, and he yelled, “No! Spare me! I want to live!”
“You should’ve thought about that before you decided to take an interest in me.” I told him. “Sorry, Ihaan, but I’m going to take you back to Camp Juniper to prove that you really do exist.” I moved my hands down to his ankle and continued to pull.
Next time Ihaan yelled, his voice was hollow. “Let me go! Please! Stop! You’re pulling my injured foot! It hurts! Let go!”
From behind Uncle Bart, Ihaan, and I, I heard the voice of Dad yelling from the forest. “Kylie! What’s going on over there?”
“Let me go!” Ihaan choked out. “It hurts!”
“Okay! Okay!” I finally complied. I let his foot go. Ihaan quickly sat up, and he pressed his palms up against the forest’s floor. He peered into my eyes. I actually noticed he was crying. Was I really that scary? I decided to let him off the hook this time, but next time, that was as if we did see him again, he would be mine. “You’re let go.” I said in a softer voice, and I waved him away, “Go.”
Ihaan started to sob. He closed his eyes and brought his fist to his nose. Then, just like that, he stood up and limped away as fast as he could. He dove into the forest and vanished from sight.
I reached my hand out to him, but I couldn’t bring myself to words.
Behind me, I heard Uncle Bart mumble, “He’s real. He’s really real. Oh, my gosh!”
Right after he said that, Dad and Mom appeared behind us.
“Kylie?” Mom asked.
“We saw him, Mom!” I shouted out. “Uncle Bart and I saw him!”
“Saw him? Who?”
“Ihaan the Hermit!”
“You should have seen him, Penelope!” Uncle Bart suddenly chimed in. He leaped to his feet and lifted his hands over his head. “He was so tall! He had to be like a hundred feet!”
“No, he’s not, Uncle Bart!” I argued, and I approached him. “He looked tall because of the way he was hanging from the tree! He’s really only an inch or two taller than me!”
“But still!” shouted Uncle Bart. “Penelope, don’t you agree with me?”
“Enough!” Mom shouted. Uncle Bart and I froze. We together glanced at her. “Seriously, Bart?!” continued Mom, and she reached for her head. “Not you too! You’ve fallen for Kylie’s disillusions! I thought you were better than that!”
“There was a boy, though!” Uncle Bart argued, “Kylie and I saw him with our own two eyes! He’s just super shy.”
“What proof do you have?” asked Mom. “Bart, you’re first.” She focused her attention on Uncle Bart. “What did this boy look like? If you really saw him, then you should know his appearance! Well? Go on.”
I glanced at Dad and saw that he had a “Seriously?” look on his face. He rubbed it down and shook his head.
“All right.” Uncle Bart spoke. He thought for a moment, “Well,” and rubbed his beard, “he had black hair, brown eyes, and a fair complexion.”
“No, no, no!” I chimed in, and I waved my hands. “He doesn’t have black hair and a fair complexion, Uncle Bart. He has brown hair, beautiful, wide, deep brown eyes, and tan skin.” This was one of very few times Uncle Bart and I got in an argument.
“No, no!” Uncle Bart argued. “I clearly saw black hair!”
“He does not have black hair! It’s brown!”
“No, it’s black!”
“Brown!”
“Black!”
“Brown!”
Mom broke us up by saying, “I’m glad to hear you two arguing. When you two finally come up with a decision of what this so-called boy looked like, then you can find me again. Come on, Azul.” She took Dad’s hand and pulled him back in the direction of the campground. She left Uncle Bart and I behind. Now I knew she wouldn’t let me canoe with him again.
Turning to Uncle Bart again, I lowered my voice and said, “Uncle Bart, listen to me please.”
Uncle Bart did.
“You see,” I continued, “I met this mysterious hermit last night and conversed with him, so I think I have a pretty good idea of what he looks like.”
Uncle Bart sighed and voiced, “If you say so. I still think he has black hair”
“No,” I growled, “he has brown hair!”
“Black!”
“Brown!”
At this point in my story, Uncle Bart hadn’t seen Ihaan enough to accept that I was right. I knew what I was saying. He didn’t. Together, we turned on our heels and headed back towards the campground. The entire journey back, we continued to argue about Ihaan’s hair color. We sounded like a bunch of little girls.
Camp Juniper took another portage the second day of canoeing in order to get to Lake Temagami, but this portage was absolutely awful. However, before we made it to Canada’s Hells Canyon, we first had to get there. We had to continue canoeing.
Just as I suspected, Mom and Dad put me in the canoe with them instead of Uncle Bart. Poor Aunt Delia had to canoe with him instead.
Mom and Dad sat me in the middle of the canoe, and they protected me like I was a princess.
I didn’t want to be stuck with my parents. I wanted to be with my Uncle Bart. I tried convincing Mom and Dad to put me back in the canoe with him, but I failed. Since I apparently had a concussion, Mom and Dad kept an extra close eye on me. They even told me to take it easy and not canoe. Now that I didn’t mind. I didn’t feel like paddling.
Since Mom and Dad did all the work, while they paddled, I searched the forest and lake for Ihaan. Like the previous day, I stayed very grumpy. Most of it came from the lack of sleep I had and from the fact that Mom had broken Ihaan’s flute. I knew Ihaan had made a great sacrifice in giving me that flute, and I promised him I would take good care of it.
Camp Juniper canoed for quite a long time before we reached the next portage. The entire time, I didn’t talk or make eye contact with my parents. I just searched for Ihaan.
For Red Squirrel Lake being Red Squirrel Lake, it was still as creepy as ever, but at least this time, it wasn’t as foggy.
I noticed that throughout the journey, Uncle Bart too examined the forest. It looked like he too was looking for Ihaan. Either him or a moose. Probably a moose.
Halfway through the journey to the next portage, I actually did see something very unusual in the forest. It wasn’t Ihaan, though. It was something else. I saw the shadow of a huge, four-legged beast. I’m telling you, this thing was huge! Beyond curious, I set down my paddle down and gripped the edge of the canoe. “What’s that?” Was the figure the Ghost of Ontario? Could he take on the form of any animal?
Behind me, Mom said, “Hm? What’s what, Kylie?”
Without saying a thing, I pointed in the direction where the figure stood. It still stood there. It hadn’t moved a muscle.
Also seeing it, Mom gasped, “Whoa!” and she threw down her own paddle, gripping the canoe’s edge as well.
“What do y’all see?” I heard Uncle Harrison ask.
“Is it a moose?!” suddenly shouted my Uncle Bart. All four of Camp Juniper’s canoes stopped, and we together looked in the direction where the figure remained. After a bit, Uncle Bart added with, “It doesn’t look shy. Let’s get a closer look!”
We all glanced at him and nodded. Picking up our paddles, all ten of us paddled towards the figure.
I actually helped out this once only because I had a feeling that Ihaan was nearby and that the figure was one of his animal friends. Was it? There’s only one way to find out. Camp Juniper paddled faster.
It did not take us long to reach the forest. We were all very interested in the mysterious shadow. Unfortunately, it ran off just before we could get a good glance at it. I kind of expected that would happen. The second we reached the shallow water, in which this area had a rocky bottom, the figure turned and leaped into the forest.
“Wait!” I yelled, and I reached my hand out to it. I remember, Uncle Bart had drawn his camera. He was so prepared to get a picture of a moose, but he didn’t succeed. The mysterious figure ended up running off just like Ihaan. I guessed it was just as shy as him.
Poor Uncle Bart started to sob. Tears fountained down his cheeks, and he yelled, “NO! I was so ready to capture that moose, but then it ran away!” He lowered his camera and sunk into his seat.
Where we were, I remember there was a downed tree in the forest, in which half of it hung over the lake.
One member of Camp Juniper from each canoe each grabbed a branch of it, and we started to chat.
Uncle Clement pulled his fishing line in and focused in on Uncle Bart, asking, “Are you sure it was a moose you saw, Bart?”
“It sure looked like one!” Uncle Bart sobbed. He set his camera down and buried his face in his hands.
To comfort him, Mom encouragingly smiled, and she peered back to him. “Hey, don’t worry, Bart. We’ll see a moose. I promise. Why don’t we wait here a bit and see if it comes back?”
“Chocolate break!” Aunt Lydia suddenly shouted, and she lifted her hand high over her head. “This calls for a chocolate break!”
Dad chuckled and reached into his dry bag. From it, he drew the chocolate and asked all of us, “Who wants chocolate? Speak now or forever hold your case.”
So, that was that. We decided to have a chocolate break next to the downed tree. However, we actually didn’t stay there long because before we knew it, something very creepy happened. It reminded me that the Lady Evelyn-Smoothwater Provincial Park was haunted.
Ten minutes into our chocolate break, we all heard something. From the forest, we heard a strange but beautiful sound. It didn’t sound like Ihaan’s leaf whistle. It sounded like the flute Mom broke.
I gasped and smacked my hands to my mouth. The sound! Ranger Kate said so herself that there had been rumors of a mysterious lullaby out in the Lady Evelyn-Smoothwater Provincial Park. It was “Lucilla,” and you know what it means when you hear “Lucilla.” Camp Juniper was so dead. Reaching for my head, I shook it and screamed, “Its ‘Lucilla!’ The Ghost of Ontario!”
I actually made Camp Juniper nervous, even Mom. The song continued to play. Before long, I felt the wind pick up. Fog started to move in again on Red Squirrel Lake, and behind us, small waves were born. By that time, I knew it was the Ghost of Ontario. “The Ghost of Ontario!” I repeated, and I quickly picked up my paddle. “Paddle! Paddle! We have to get off this lake!”
“Listen to her!” Uncle Bart shouted. “Go! Go! Fog’s moving in! We’re not safe! We’ve got to hurry to the next portage!”
Now, Camp Juniper listened to him, how surprising. All of us picked up our paddles and paddled out towards the heart of Red Squirrel Lake.
“Go! Go! Go!” shouted Uncle Bart. Right after he yelled that, I heard a voice over the wind. It came from the direction where we had heard “Lucilla.”
The voice was deep, dark, mysterious, and beyond creepy. “LEAVE MY PROPERTY, YOU ANIMALS!” it boomed, “OR WE WILL HAVE TO DO THIS THE HARD WAY!”
“Yipe!” I shrieked.
“What is that?!” Mom shouted.
“Go, go!” yelled Uncle Bart again.
All Dad could say was, “EEE!!” He sounded like Marv in Home Alone when Kevin put the spider on his face.
With every passing second, Camp Juniper paddled faster and faster. Before long, the voice on the wind spoke up again. “STOP!!” it boomed.
I turned my head and peered back to the forest. “Yipe!” I shrieked again. I saw him! I saw the Ghost of Ontario! Through the fog, a dark figure stood on the edge of the downed tree’s branches. “It’s the Ghost of Ontario!” I screamed, and I pointed at the figure. “He’s right there! I knew it! He can change his form into any animal! He’s pulled us into his trap!”
All members of Camp Juniper glanced back to the ghost, and all of them gasped.
Mom’s entire face turned blue. “Now do you believe me, Mom?!” I shouted.
“LEAVE!!” boomed the ghost again. “STAY AWAY!! THIS IS MY TURF!! LEAVE IT ALONE!!”
“We’re going! We’re going!” I screamed. “Paddle faster, Camp Juniper! If we don’t hurry, he’s going to drown us!”
The voice shouted one last thing before it faded. “LEAVE!! NEVER COME BACK!! YOU HURT MY FRIENDS!!” And just like that, waves crashed into the sides of our canoes. Just when we thought we were out of danger, we heard something else. The foggy morning was interrupted by an agonizing crack, and I saw the Ghost of Ontario fall from his branch and into the lake. Immediately after he did, more waves crashed into us.
“He’s coming!” I cried. “We’re going to be turned into dinner! I knew that was ‘Lucilla’ we heard!”
“Don’t worry, Lydia!” Uncle Harrison yelled. “I’ll make sure nothing happens to you!” We didn’t dare to look back anymore. Paddling on, we zoomed through Red Squirrel Lake.
ns 15.158.61.8da2
