The Healer (14 page)

The first step was to interest Billy in something besides the werewolffen. Zook tried to find someone who had a puppy the boy could adopt, but there were no litters available. Billy still hunted with Dracula, but the owl was unresponsive and Zook knew the boy wanted something to love that could return love. Wasser was too old to be a boy's pet. Perhaps a baby 'coon would do the trick. In the meantime, Zook tried to think of something else that would at least break down the barrier between them.

One night he took Billy pheasant poaching. The old man despised the game laws, feeling that nature had provided wild game, like the wild plants, for human benefit—or at least for his benefit—and the government had no right to deprive him of this bounty. He picked a moonless night and used a dark lantern, together with a long fishing pole with a running noose at the end. On his herb collecting trips, Zook always kept an eye out for pools where trout collected, rabbit runs, and pheasant roosting spots. At this time of year, the pheasants no longer flocked and most of the hens were on eggs, but the old man knew of a beech where three bachelor cocks roosted nightly on a lower limb. During the day, he had measured the height of the limb and knew his pole could reach.

Leaving Wasser to guard the farm, they set out. A hundred yards from the tree, they crouched down to get the silhouettes of the sleeping birds against the night sky. When under the tree, Abe Zook raised the rod and moved the open noose close to the nearest bird, who had his head under his wing. Obeying a whispered order, Billy tapped on the trunk. Instantly all three heads popped out. The old man tried to noose the cock but in his position, he could not get the bird against the sky and could not see the noose. "A little light once," he whispered. Billy slipped back the slide of the lantern and the watered silk pattern of the cock's feathers glowed in the dull light. Zook settled the noose and ordered, "Make the light all," meaning to close the slide of the lantern and put out the light, but before Billy could obey, the cock began to beat with his wings and the other two birds flew. The captive was dragged down and his neck wrung. Billy was delighted but Zook muttered, "All three we should have been getting yet."

As they started home, Zook stopped and threw out his hand to hold Billy. Faintly they heard the baying of a hound. As the wind shifted they thought he was coming closer, and only slowly did they realize that he was running on a course parallel to their own.

"It's that beagle of Michael's," said Billy. There was a beagle in the neighborhood who often went hunting at night.

"A beagle no. That dog goes fast. He is not after a rabbit in a field."

They continued to listen. Another dog joined in the baying and still another. Then they heard some eager yapping.

"The werewolffen!" exclaimed Zook., but he sounded doubtful.

"They never bay on a trail, not even Blackie," said Billy. "Anyhow, there's more than two."

They continued to listen until the sound passed away. "Three hounds it makes," said Zook at last. "There are other dogs with them, but not trailing dogs. They speak only when they get a strong whiff of scent. They were after deer. Nothing else would travel so fast and so far."

"It was a regular pack."

"A pack it is. This is not good. City people are buying dogs too big for them and then these fools take the dogs out into the country and turn them loose. It would be better to kill them. Either the dogs starve to death or they form a pack. A single dog is a sad, helpless animal, but a pack is a great danger. Their number makes them fierce, and one eggs the others on. It is hard to trap, poison, or shoot them. They can cover twenty miles in a night, so there is no place to set the traps or leave the poison."

"What do they eat?"

"Deer and other animals, but mostly livestock."

Billy felt his heart jump. "Then maybe it's these wild dogs that are killing the sheep and calves?"

"It is possible. They would be hunting mainly at night so no one would be seeing them. They do not kill only to eat, like a wild animal. The wild animals are wise, but dogs without a master are nothing. They have been bred for many hundreds of years to obey a man and when they have no man to obey, they are lost. They have no way of amusing themselves except by killing, so they kill."

When they returned to the farm, Abe Zook insisted on plucking the pheasant and then burying all the feathers, as well as the head and legs. "Not the smallest feather miss," he warned Billy. "Ofttimes one feather is as bad as the whole bird." A single feather was enough evidence for a game warden to make an arrest for poaching. The plucked bird was hidden in the barn. Even if found, it would be difficult to prove that it was not a chicken.

They had barely finished when they heard Wasser's bark, followed by a hail. Abe Zook called, "Come in once" and a man in uniform entered the barn.

Both Billy and Abe Zook stiffened. The man was a game warden, and Billy had been taught by his uncle to regard a game warden as an enemy. The warden was a young man with a pleasant, friendly face, but with a certain reserve. He looked like a man who liked people and wanted to be liked himself, but long experience had taught him that most farmers regarded him as a threat only slightly less sinister than a policeman.

"Hello, Mr. Zook, I'm Jim Stoltzfoos, Henry Stoltzfoos' son, over at Bird-in-Hand," he began. "Now, I'm not here to cause any trouble. The farmers around here have been complaining about having their stock killed. Have you lost any stock?"

Zook started toward the house with Billy trailing behind him. "My stock I look after myself."

"They say that there's a coyote and a female dog running together that are doing the killing."

"That's a lie!" Billy exploded.

The warden turned to look at him. "How do you know?"

For a moment Billy was going to refuse to answer. He hated authority almost as much as did Abe Zook, for to him authority meant his stepfather. Then he thought better of it.

"It's wild dogs. We were up in the woods just now and heard them chasing a deer."

"What were you doing in the woods after dark?"

Billy realized that he had made a mistake. Abe Zook said briefly, "We was minding our own business. Would others could do as much."

"Mr. Zook, I know you've been poaching. You're an old-timer and I haven't bothered you, but you know as well as I do it's against the law."

"For sixty years I have lived off the land. Now a young man like you tells me it is against the law."

"At your age, you can apply for Social Security."

Zook shouted in rage, "Charity I don't take. I look after myself. For me to hunt is a crime, yet rich city men come and shoot. That is good by you."

"They have licenses and do it in the legal season. You have the same privilege. If everyone was allowed to hunt any way they felt like it, there wouldn't be any game left."

Abe Zook sniffed. "Who is this 'everybody'? Men like you who are knowing nothing about animals and plants and are making money arresting people?"

"I think I earn my wages. I'm going to get that coyote and the dog that runs with him."

Billy screamed, "I tell you they're not doing the killing. It's the wild dogs."

Stoltzfoos looked at him curiously. "How do you know, son?"

"I know. I know plenty about the coyote and that dog. I know their range and how they hunt. Right now they're mostly eating grass and new plants. I can see where they've been digging up violet roots and plantains. All the killing they do is pick up a rabbit or maybe a woodchuck."

"If you know that much about them, maybe you can help me trap them. The state has a reward on them."

"All I want is to have you leave them alone."

The man looked at Billy long and seriously. "How'd you like to come along when I'm on my rounds sometime? Maybe I can show you some things you don't know about. I'm not asking you to help me trap those predators if you don't want to help. Just let me show you what I'm trying to do."

Billy turned away. "I don't want to have anything to do with you."

"All right. If you change your mind, let me know." The warden turned to Zook. "You're not doing this boy any good bringing him up to hate the law. Times are changing around here. People won't be able to wildcraft the way you've done. If you want to help him, let him get a good education and really learn something about nature."

Abe Zook replied bitterly, "God put the animals and plants here, not you. What God wants, that I do, not what a man in a uniform wants yet. It would have hurt you nothing to leave us alone."

"I'm sorry," said Jim Stoltzfoos slowly. "I'd like to help you both, but you won't let me." He left them and they heard his jeep start up and drive away.

Zook started a fire in the stove and Billy helped him prepare supper. Finally the old man said, "Billy, these dogs will drive the werewolffen away. There are many of them and if they can kill calves, some at least are big— maybe a German shepherd or a Doberman. It is often so in these packs. There will be trailing dogs like a beagle or a foxhound who can follow a scent but will not kill. Then there are the big dogs who run with them until the animal they hunt is tired and can run no more. It is the big dogs who do the killing. At first, there is no true pack, only stray dogs staying together for company. After a time, each learns his place. Some run ahead, spread out to look for food, and when they find it tongue to call the others. Some run around the pack to turn the animal back if he tries to break away. Others duck in to hamstring while the big dogs go for the throat. Those who are too weak or too small are thrown out of the pack and die. They will drive the werewolffen away or kill them."

"I'll bet Wolf can kill any dog," Billy insisted.

"No, not a big dog. Wolf is a good fighter, I am sure, but he does not have the weight or the jaws to stand up to a shepherd dog or a big collie. Is the black dog in whelp?"

"I—I don't know."

"If so, she will be looking for a den where she can bring forth the pups. Wolf will try to protect her and defend his range. It is so with wild animals. Dogs care nothing for their females or young, but with Wolf it is not so. He will fight, and the dogs will kill him."

"Why do they want to be so mean?"

"It is necessary for them. A pack must be mean if it is to exist as a pack, and dogs can only live in a pack. A single dog will starve, for it cannot run down and overcome large game and it has not the skill to take small quarry. Being hunters, all dogs like to fight and they would fight among themselves until the pack was destroyed unless they turn their hatred outwards. So they must attack anything that does not belong to the pack."

"Wolf and Blackie don't need a pack."

"That is true, but Wolf is a wild animal and knows how to live by himself, and he is now taking care of Blackie. You do not know what a pack means to a dog. The pack is mother, father, brother, and home to them. So strong is their feeling for the pack that they give up everything else for it. This is why they care nothing for their mates or young; all the love they have goes to the pack. Wolf has other thoughts, but the dogs none."

"Do they know that Wolf and Blackie are around?"

"Yes, they must have found Wolf's scent posts, but although there are many more of them, still they are a little afraid of him. Dogs obey the laws of God, or at least such of them as they can understand. They know that this range belongs to Wolf and they have no right to it. Knowing themselves to be in the wrong, they hold back from attacking. But like men, they forget wrong and right when they have the strength, and sooner or later they will attack."

"Can't we help Wolf and Blackie?"

"My boy, we cannot come between animals. They must fight it out. Perhaps Wolf can bluff them. There is an old saying, 'Every dog barks in his own yard,' meaning he will protect his property and other dogs respect his rights. We will see."

Billy now spent much of his time checking Wolf's scent posts. At first, he could notice no change except that the ground around them seemed to have been scratched more than usual. Then early one morning he saw Wolf and Blackie visit the fence post by the marsh.

At once, he could tell by Wolf's manner that something was wrong. Usually the coyote trotted over to the post in a cheerful, mildly curious manner. Now he approached stiff-legged, his ears laid back, and his head thrust forward as though he was prepared to find something wrong. One sniff confirmed his worst suspicions. Billy could hear his fierce growling and watched him strain to flip urine a fraction of an inch higher on the post than he had done before, obviously hoping to impress the dogs who had visited it during the night with his great height. Then he tore up the ground with his hind feet to dig his own scent into the ground, snarling at the same time, until his long canines gleamed white. Blackie kept away from him, as well she might, for he was in such a frenzy he might have turned on her.

Billy wondered why Wolf had not visited the post during the night, as that was clearly the time when the dogs came around, but after a few days he came to the conclusion that Wolf was not too eager to meet the dogs, nor they to meet him. Wolf was ready to fight for his range, yet he greatly hoped that the dog pack would go away without forcing the issue, and he was doing everything in his power at the posts to leave the impression that a fearful animal of great size and ferocity owned the range. By the same token, the dog pack seemed reluctant to attack Wolf. Unlike Wolf, the pack had no real range and actually did not need this particular area. Wolf, on the other hand, had to have a territory. His highly specialized method of hunting required him to know the nature of a terrain, the habits of the game there, where the edible vegetables grew, and the trails. The dogs depended on hit or miss methods and hence did not need to be experts on a district. Then, too, the dogs were not interested in preserving a hunting ground to support their bitches and pups, while Wolf was constantly growing more territory-conscious. He had tightened his wide-flung winter range to an area some three miles square which was easier to defend. As the days grew longer, he set up more scent posts and visited them more often. He was obviously establishing a territory where he would have exclusive hunting rights to support Blackie and her pups when the time came.