Enid Esme was the eldest child among six.

I was the only one in our family who referred to her as a cousin.

She was the grandchild of my Grampa’s brother. According to others in the family Enid was other than a cousin to me and my siblings; their description had words in it that were not plain enough for me. And since Enid herself could not care less, I referred to her as a cousin on those rare occasions when I had to mention it to others.

Enid and I were the same age, and alike in personality in that we were prone to taking dangerous risks. So much so, that adults in both our families preferred to not let us be in charge of children when there were no adults available.

I envied Enid because her family lived in forest country in another Province. Both her Dad and Mom were professional Forest Rangers. They were not far from wild animals all the time: wolves, bears, moose, foxes. The opportunities for taking risks were countless.

From an early age I had decided I would be a Forest Ranger.

My family lived in a harbour City on the coast. Most of my darings were not as challenging as Enid’s.

There was an unspoken agreement among the parents of both our families that none of the children of our family, as long as they were children, would spend vacation days with the forest family. No such restrictions were in place on Enid and her siblings spending vacation weeks with us in the harbour City.

Dangerous ventures in ocean waters in a harbour are rare, and even when they occur they generate excitement far less intense than a sudden face-to-face encounter with stalking hungry wild animal in a forest.

I felt so very fortunate for the one unique danger in our harbour waters that kept Enid and her siblings returning every year to spend vacation with us.

The bay harbour of our City had an attached swamp area of more than half the other section. That turned out to be fortunate for the citizens because the vast swamp area was shallow and included many clear sandy territories ideal for picnics on sunny days.

The area was overrun with tourists all year round.

In one area of the swamp there was a shallow channel of swift-flowing water. The current of water itself presented no danger, but inexplicable patterns of the rushing ocean water in it were always dangerous. There were official signs posted by the City warning against entering that shallow channel of swift-flowing water.

At intervals along the surface of the water, whirlpools appeared, moving along, swiftly, unpredictably, treacherously. Most persons daring to step into a whirlpool, were certain to be swept off their feet because of hidden undercurrents. This was an exciting experience, and safe since the channel was shallow; not higher than adult knee-deep.

However, if the person who fell into the rushing water, happened to swallow water frantically, the experience could be most uncomfortable.

Most tourists did not dare enter those whirlpools; but all tourists never tired of gawking mesmerized at those who take the plunge, and always nearly drown!

To my knowledge, nobody ever drowned.

During her few vacations Enid deliberately stepped into a whirlpool, repeatedly. She was the only person I recall who fell and joyfully allowed the current to sweep and angrily tumbled her along, submerged treacherously. None of the rest of us who sometimes tried to emulate her, surfaced comfortably.

There was one other adventure that we joined Enid in only once because it was too frightening.

A few of us rented a row-boat, and rowed out of the harbour into the ocean. We followed the commercial renter’s suggestion, and rowed a course parallel to the coast.

Suddenly, we saw sharks swimming alongside our boat! They accompanied us when we hastily turned and headed back to the harbour before those animals got it into their heads to ram into our boat.

Although it was obvious that Enid was the only one pleasantly excited by the appearance of the sharks, she never suggested a repeat engagement when she visited on other vacations.

Perhaps, she, too, was reading in the newspapers that sharks and orcas ramming into rowboats and capsizing them was a frequent adventure on that coast.

True to their word, my parents allowed me my first visit to our Forest Ranger family after my eighteenth birthday. The mistake they made was that it was Summer; Bear time in the jungle.

Enid had no trouble persuading me to join her in her Bear adventure in her family’s Forest Ranger jungle.

First, she took me to a part of the forest to show me the tree we would have to scramble up, when chased by a Bear.

At the height of the tree, hidden from a Bear, Enid had rigged rope that would enable us to move from tree to tree. She said she knew the Bear she was going to annoy enough to have it chase us.

It was a Bear she had kept track of all of the previous Summer, and she knew where it had hibernated all Winter.

When she offered me the choice to wait for her up in the tree or to join her being chased by the Bear, I hesitated before choosing the latter, more out of wanting her respect than out of courage. I had read a lot about Bears, and was convinced that nobody ever outran a Bear in a straight chase.

As fleeting as it was, my hesitation was not missed by Enid.

That is why she felt a need to assure me that she was quite familiar with the Bear she chose.

She had monitored it for weeks the previous Summer, and had sprayed part of its body with orange-colored food dye.

I had to follow, of course, when the two of us went searching through the forest for Enid’s favourite wild Bear. It was not much of a search because Enid was certain about where she would most likely track the Bear. When we found the Bear, Enid called out to it and threw an apple at the Bear, deliberately aiming to hit the Bear hard. It worked.

The Bear gave chase. This time, I was in the lead, all the way. The Bear could be heard, hot on our trail. Enid had plotted a course that had trees close to one another. The Bear was slowed down because it had to find trees far apart enough for it.

We reached the tree a few long seconds before the Bear, long enough for us to reach the ropes.

The Bear arrived, and for a few seconds hesitated at the tree. We were completely quiet high up. I dared to sneak a peek at the Bear far down.

Sure enough, it looked up, but seemed unsure. It moved about looking up other trees, and all about.

As according to Enid’s plan, we did not move until Enid gave the cue. She must have peeked and saw that the Bear had eventually left. She carefully swung her way along the rope to other trees. I followed her.

When we were back at her home, and resting, and not mentioning our Bear adventure to anyone, Enid whispered the invitation to me that we repeat the adventure the next year, mostly naked; same trees, same rope, same Bear! As incentive, she said that if next year’s Bear escapade turned out as successful, she would invite me to help her on her Cougar adventure through the forest!

I had read a lot about Bears, and so I was familiar with the notion that Bears learnt from their failures. Hence, I forever avoided joining Enid in a follow-up taunting of her orange-colored food dyed wild Bear.

Just because none of my siblings and cousins ever mentioned accompanying Enid on her naked Bear taunting, does not mean she did not go it alone! Perhaps when both of us are in our nineties, I will have the reckless nerve to ask her?