Where's Victor

When Victor was about 8 or 9 years old, John Hiskey took us pinenut picking in the mountains across the valley to the east and a little north of Pioche, Nevada. We went up a long draw or canyon quite a distance till we found Pinion trees that had a considerable amount of cones on them,. We parked his camper pickup truck just down from a fork in the road. One fork going north climbed over a big ridge then dropped down into the next major canyon. The right fork proceeded up the canyon to a ranch owned by Jack Conner who was a friend of mine. The year before I had hauled some beehives out and parked them east of his place on a burned area that had been planted to yellow clover. Randal and I had extracted a lot of honey that year but it was a long way to travel from home. There was a foster kid by the name of Troy staying at our place and we also took him with us to pick nuts.

After John got the truck situated to his liking he began to prepare supper. Victor and Troy were playing around outside. One of them asked me if it would be all right to climb up the steep hill just to the north of the truck. The sun was about to go down and John said he would have supper ready in 20 minutes so not to go very far. When I called for them, Troy came in. I asked where Victor was and he said he was walking up the hill the last time he saw him. I called and hollered but received no answer. We ate and then I climbed the hill looking for him. I followed his tracks until it became too dark to see. They were headed up the ridge to the north toward the high ridge where the drainage to the next canyon began. I was calling for him every little ways. I began to circle around to the west, then down across the canyon where the road was, then climbed the hills on the south side, working in a circle around the campsite.

Soon deep darkness settled in as there was no moon. The hills were covered with lots of pinion and juniper trees, interspersed with smaller brush. By now my adrenaline was at work and I climbed up and over, down and across those steep canyons and mountainsides tirelessly. My course was an ever widening circle. Although there was no moon, my eyes could fathom the darkness sufficiently that I never fell down. I searched in this fashion for about 3 hours. I stood on the top of the high ridge to the north of our camp and called down into the next canyon several times, but only silence was my answer.

After I had thoroughly covered all the country within the radius of at least one and three-quarters miles from camp I climbed to a rocky point and set a dead tree on fire, which could be seen from a long way off. Then I went to camp. I told John that I couldn't understand why I hadn't found him. The time was now 11 PM. Presently we heard an outfit coming down the canyon. Jack Corner drove up in his pickup, worried about the fire on that point. I told him the situation, that the fire could not spread and would burn itself out by morning. He told us we ought to drive into Pioche where they had a Search and Rescue group organized and ask the sheriff to get these people to come out and find him. I was reluctant to do that as I figured I could track him down when daylight came, but Jack kept insisting and John sided with him so I relented.

We had to drive 30 miles into Pioche. We went to the jail house and told the deputy on duty what the problem was. He called the sheriff who in turn alerted all the search and rescue people. They gathered at the sheriffs office shortly and with John in the lead we took the whole caravan out to our campsite. We showed them the direction and spot where Victor had left camp. All the guys doing the searching had loud speakers to talk through. A couple gals operated radio equipment to keep everybody in touch. I asked them what they wanted me to do and they said to stay put. They fanned out, going up the hill, calling for Victor through those loud speakers which you could hear plainly for at least /2 mile. Within 15 minutes after they started the radio operator told me that Victor had answered them. Soon he walked into camp along the road from the north.

He had left camp and walked to the top of the ridge on the north, down the other side to where he came to an old road, this he followed to the east a little ways then sat down under a tree. He heard someone calling from up on the mountain but didn't call back. He then lay down and slept for awhile. A little mouse woke him by playing round close to his nose. The night was chilly so he got up and walked along the road which took him up over a big ridge and down the other side. He was walking along that road when he heard someone calling "Victor" so when he got closer he answered back. He was surprised to see all those people and jeeps and pickup trucks and all those strangers glad to see him. They soon left for home. If they hadn't come out he soon would have walked into camp.

I asked him why he didn't light a little fire. He said it was too dark to see to make one. I knew he had matches in his pocket for I had given him some that morning.

"Were you afraid out in the hills and trees alone when it was so dark?"

"Nothing out there to be afraid of."

"Were you worried about being lost?"

"No, I didn't think about it."

"Did you hear me call you from that high ridge?"

"I heard somebody holler."

"Did you answer?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I don't know."

My conclusion is that he wasn't lost but just walked over there to see what it was like, not thinking much about how his absence would worry or effect me, or if he did think about it he wasn't much concerned. He just wanted to go on a little night time adventure and exploration walk all by himself. Huh, Victor?