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The Stillaguamish River near Mt. Baker.
Now, as it happens, there was a
grownup boy from way up in the Skagit valley. His name was Peterson Helseth.
This made sense to his father when Peterson was born, because his dad’s name
was Peter. Ah well. Naturally, the boy was at pains to be called Pete.
His parents worked on a large dairy farm owned by the Swanson family. Old Peter milked cows for a living. Pete’s mom, Livia, worked in the big house, cooking and such. The Helseth family lived on this farm in their own much smaller house. They had no extra money.
Pete was not employed by the Swansons. He was a student. Well, he had been, but he had just graduated from the local high school. Pete didn’t even want to be employed by the Swansons. In fact, it was the last thing he wanted.
He decided to go out into the world and seek his fortune. But, oddly for these days, he had no vehicle, not even a beater or a bike. He had feet.
He looked like a Norski, because he was one. Just around six feet tall, light brown hair, kept moderately long, not quite shoulder length. Grey eyes. He wore 32x32 jeans, a large size shirt, and size 12 sneakers. People said he looked thoughtful, and he was.
He told old Peter what was up, and old Peter nodded. Livia cried later in the kitchen. He was her one and only.
Livia helped Pete fill his back pack with durable snacks, such as nuts, dried fruit, jerky, and she gave him four bottles of water. He didn’t take a phone because he didn’t have one. He took a tightly rolled sleeping bag. His total monetary worth was $98.57, in his wallet in his jeans.
Pete walked south on the Pioneer Highway. By evening he was in and through Stanwood. He didn’t stop there. He bought a burger and kept going.
To the east the land was hilly and covered in trees. This direction called to him, so he started walking uphill. Just as the sun was setting over Puget Sound far off to the west he came upon a congenial looking wooded area. It was summer, a dry summer, so sleeping in the woods was no problem for Pete. He slept well until the sun returned.
He woke listening to crows and squirrels. When he opened his eyes he was looking up through tree branches. Then he remembered where he was. He smiled. He still felt called to the east. So he ate some of Livia’s durable snacks, drank some water, rolled up his bag, put it all back together and kept going eastward all during the morning.
At last there was a moderately sized river. The river seemed to say, “come down this way.” So he stepped over the guard rail, leaving the roadway and walking down a steep few feet to the riverbank. One always walks downstream, and so did Pete.
It was a lot of fun, but walking down a riverbank in the PNW is hard going. There are a lot of big rocks, not much in the way of sandy beaches, and then there are fallen trees and all sorts of river driftwood. There was a lot of climbing over involved.
Finally Pete found himself in an area that seemed deeply remote. He could hear no noise of traffic or anything else. He spent the second night there. He made a small fire and drank river water to save his bottled water. All night the river sighed and rustled. It seemed to be saying something, but Pete was too sleepy to decipher it.
He felt a little damp and chilly when he woke, so he got up quickly, had some jerky and fruit, and kept following this river downstream.
The river grew as he went further.
At last he came to an area that looked like people had been there. It was hard to say why, maybe it was the few footprints in the earth above the rocky bottom. Someone had been there quite recently. Maybe several someones and they were barefoot. He didn’t think much of it. He took off his sneakers too.
The water looked so inviting. It ran smoothly, looking almost muscular.
Pete stashed his shoes, socks, and backpack together by a large rock and rolled up his jeans.
When he stepped into the water it was shockingly cold, as is usually the case. He giggled like a kid and shivered. It was a little painful walking on the gravel and pebbles on the bottom. The rocks glinted up through the water almost like gems of some lesser variety.
But, wait! There was something else down there. It looked like a coin. Looking again he saw more than a few, colored like gold. Pete reached into the water and took one up to examine it. It was unlike any coin he had ever seen, of course. Pete hadn’t come upon many ancient golden coins up in the Skagit. It was most shiny and about the size of a half collar coin.
He looked around himself, up and down the river, for signs of habitation. There were none. He was alone here in the deep forest by a river where he had found this amazing thing. So, he gathered them out of the cold water. There were 25 coins of differing design. Each one had some slight damage in a couple areas as if they had all been soldered together for some reason. They were heavy too, so he didn’t put them in his pockets. He had them wadded together in the front of his shirt to carry them.
He was heading to his backpack to put them away when the biggest raven he had ever seen landed on the largest boulder and watched him. She said nothing, just watching. Pete said, “wow,” and proceeded to zip the coins into an inner pocket in the bag. He put his shoes and socks on and just sat there thinking. He was thinking about laws regarding treasure. He had to conclude that lost treasure found belongs to the finder. How could it be otherwise. It wouldn’t be possible to discover how this treasure had gotten there.
About then the raven took off, flying directly into the trees as if on a mission. She seemed to shout something as she took off, but he was never able to say what it was later when he told the story.
So, that is how Pete found a fortune, but his greater fortune is for him to discover as he lives it.
That is also how Wolvrin Farsikkel’s crown made of stolen golden coins passed from the hands of the fey into the hands of man, by way of the foot of Ralph. A far-fetched tale indeed.
You may be sure that Pete went directly to Milltown’s library to learn online there how to go about selling such a find. It would take a while and had to be done right. I suppose that’s part of the trouble with fortunes of all kinds. They require attention.
Pete was pleased.
Ralph was also pleased, once Maeve filled him in on what had happened. He had to laugh thinking about the story those coins could tell, if only they could talk.
His parents worked on a large dairy farm owned by the Swanson family. Old Peter milked cows for a living. Pete’s mom, Livia, worked in the big house, cooking and such. The Helseth family lived on this farm in their own much smaller house. They had no extra money.
Pete was not employed by the Swansons. He was a student. Well, he had been, but he had just graduated from the local high school. Pete didn’t even want to be employed by the Swansons. In fact, it was the last thing he wanted.
He decided to go out into the world and seek his fortune. But, oddly for these days, he had no vehicle, not even a beater or a bike. He had feet.
He looked like a Norski, because he was one. Just around six feet tall, light brown hair, kept moderately long, not quite shoulder length. Grey eyes. He wore 32x32 jeans, a large size shirt, and size 12 sneakers. People said he looked thoughtful, and he was.
He told old Peter what was up, and old Peter nodded. Livia cried later in the kitchen. He was her one and only.
Livia helped Pete fill his back pack with durable snacks, such as nuts, dried fruit, jerky, and she gave him four bottles of water. He didn’t take a phone because he didn’t have one. He took a tightly rolled sleeping bag. His total monetary worth was $98.57, in his wallet in his jeans.
Pete walked south on the Pioneer Highway. By evening he was in and through Stanwood. He didn’t stop there. He bought a burger and kept going.
To the east the land was hilly and covered in trees. This direction called to him, so he started walking uphill. Just as the sun was setting over Puget Sound far off to the west he came upon a congenial looking wooded area. It was summer, a dry summer, so sleeping in the woods was no problem for Pete. He slept well until the sun returned.
He woke listening to crows and squirrels. When he opened his eyes he was looking up through tree branches. Then he remembered where he was. He smiled. He still felt called to the east. So he ate some of Livia’s durable snacks, drank some water, rolled up his bag, put it all back together and kept going eastward all during the morning.
At last there was a moderately sized river. The river seemed to say, “come down this way.” So he stepped over the guard rail, leaving the roadway and walking down a steep few feet to the riverbank. One always walks downstream, and so did Pete.
It was a lot of fun, but walking down a riverbank in the PNW is hard going. There are a lot of big rocks, not much in the way of sandy beaches, and then there are fallen trees and all sorts of river driftwood. There was a lot of climbing over involved.
Finally Pete found himself in an area that seemed deeply remote. He could hear no noise of traffic or anything else. He spent the second night there. He made a small fire and drank river water to save his bottled water. All night the river sighed and rustled. It seemed to be saying something, but Pete was too sleepy to decipher it.
He felt a little damp and chilly when he woke, so he got up quickly, had some jerky and fruit, and kept following this river downstream.
The river grew as he went further.
At last he came to an area that looked like people had been there. It was hard to say why, maybe it was the few footprints in the earth above the rocky bottom. Someone had been there quite recently. Maybe several someones and they were barefoot. He didn’t think much of it. He took off his sneakers too.
The water looked so inviting. It ran smoothly, looking almost muscular.
Pete stashed his shoes, socks, and backpack together by a large rock and rolled up his jeans.
When he stepped into the water it was shockingly cold, as is usually the case. He giggled like a kid and shivered. It was a little painful walking on the gravel and pebbles on the bottom. The rocks glinted up through the water almost like gems of some lesser variety.
But, wait! There was something else down there. It looked like a coin. Looking again he saw more than a few, colored like gold. Pete reached into the water and took one up to examine it. It was unlike any coin he had ever seen, of course. Pete hadn’t come upon many ancient golden coins up in the Skagit. It was most shiny and about the size of a half collar coin.
He looked around himself, up and down the river, for signs of habitation. There were none. He was alone here in the deep forest by a river where he had found this amazing thing. So, he gathered them out of the cold water. There were 25 coins of differing design. Each one had some slight damage in a couple areas as if they had all been soldered together for some reason. They were heavy too, so he didn’t put them in his pockets. He had them wadded together in the front of his shirt to carry them.
He was heading to his backpack to put them away when the biggest raven he had ever seen landed on the largest boulder and watched him. She said nothing, just watching. Pete said, “wow,” and proceeded to zip the coins into an inner pocket in the bag. He put his shoes and socks on and just sat there thinking. He was thinking about laws regarding treasure. He had to conclude that lost treasure found belongs to the finder. How could it be otherwise. It wouldn’t be possible to discover how this treasure had gotten there.
About then the raven took off, flying directly into the trees as if on a mission. She seemed to shout something as she took off, but he was never able to say what it was later when he told the story.
So, that is how Pete found a fortune, but his greater fortune is for him to discover as he lives it.
That is also how Wolvrin Farsikkel’s crown made of stolen golden coins passed from the hands of the fey into the hands of man, by way of the foot of Ralph. A far-fetched tale indeed.
You may be sure that Pete went directly to Milltown’s library to learn online there how to go about selling such a find. It would take a while and had to be done right. I suppose that’s part of the trouble with fortunes of all kinds. They require attention.
Pete was pleased.
Ralph was also pleased, once Maeve filled him in on what had happened. He had to laugh thinking about the story those coins could tell, if only they could talk.
🤍
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