The Healer (18 page)

A flight of Canada geese swept over the trees and circled the swamp, preparatory to landing. Billy had seen geese many times before and eaten several; Abe Zook baited them in with corn and then put a net just below the surface of the water so that their long necks would get entangled in the meshes and they would drown. They were by far the biggest birds he had ever seen, and Billy loved watching their straggling V-shaped formation and listening to their wild cries. As the flock swung low over the trees, calling to each other, he thought they sounded like a pack of hounds in full cry. While he was watching, he heard an answering cry. Holding his breath to hear better, Billy recognized Wolf's howl. In a minute, it was joined by Blackie's yelping bark.

Leaving his precious fish and tackle by the swamp, Billy crept through the trees toward the sound. When the geese finally alighted on the water, they stopped calling and so did Wolf, but now Billy knew about where he and Blackie were. If they were together, it was probably the location of the new den.

Billy kept on until it was too dark to see distinctly. Then he returned to the swamp. The evening bullfrog bassoon had begun and the geese were invisible except for their white head stripes. He retrieved his fish and tackle and followed the faint trail to the road. When he reached it, there was the game warden's jeep.

Billy instantly dropped flat. He knew well what had happened. Stoltzfoos had also heard Wolf answering the geese. He was looking for the coyote with his rifle.

Billy shivered with terror, waiting for the sound of a shot, but no sound came. It was growing darker by the minute and for the first time in his life Billy prayed— prayed for night, yet the night was a long time coming. When the warden finally returned, it had grown so dark that Billy had trouble seeing even the jeep. He heard the man crashing through the bushes, saw the lights of the jeep switched on, and heard the car drive away. Had the man found the den? If so, he would return the next morning with his fearful wire and a rifle. Neither Wolf nor Blackie would desert the pups; of that, Billy was sure. The whole family would be wiped out.

Billy was back at the swamp shortly after daylight. He wandered around, calling:, and even tried to howl but there was no answer. In spite of his best efforts, he could find no sign of the den. In late afternoon, tired and discouraged, Billy plodded back to the farm.

So far, Abe Zook had forborne questioning the boy, but now the old man demanded an explanation. Billy knew that the braucher hated the werewolffen but now the boy was desperate and begged for help. "You won't let that man kill them, will you?" he pleaded. "Can't you put a hex on him so he can't find the den?"

Abe Zook shook his head. "Not so quick still. The werewolffen are their own hex. When you think of those animals, you aren't minding much of anything else."

"I'm not going to let them be killed."

"I'm wonderful spited at you. You must be doing what I say."

"I won't do what you say. I wouldn't let Wolf and Blackie be killed."

The old man shouted, "Why do you contrary me so? Don't be so ugly or back to the city you go."

Neither spoke after that. When Billy went to sleep that night he felt that he had only one more day to save the family.

He was out of bed the next morning before the old man was awake and reached the swamp before the milky dawn had begun to clear. The geese often came in during the early morning;, and he hoped that they would call again and that Wolf would answer, but this morning there was no flight. There was a spider web of light clouds in the east that hid the sun until it rose above them. Billy tried howling and calling; still no answer came. It was full daylight now and he could see the whole shore. On the far side was a black mass that he did not remember. It did not move, and he finally decided it was a piece of driftwood or some moss-covered hassock that he had forgotten. Even so, by now he thought that he knew every inch of the swamp. He went toward the object.

There was a path around the swamp made by deer and the few fishermen who came there. It did not stick to the shore, twisting through the trees in places, and several times he lost sight of the object. When the path finally emerged, he could see the dark mass plainly. There was something there and he was almost sure that it was alive.

As he came closer, the crouching creature raised its head. It was Blackie.

Billy gave a cry and started running, while at the same moment he thought
she's been shot
. He braced himself for the shock of finding a mortally wounded animal. As he came closer, Blackie rose and snarled at him. Then he could see that her foot was in a trap.

"It's me, it's Billy!" he called, but the dog, sick with fear and fright, strained the length of the chain, snarling. Billy could see now that it was not one of his traps; it was much heavier than the light muskrat traps he used. The warden must have put it at a place where Blackie's tracks showed she usually came to drink.

Billy came closer and then, remembering how big he seemed to animals, crawled forward so that he would not tower over her. Blackie jerked insanely and dropped her head to tear at the steel jaws with bloody lips. She must have been biting at it for hours.

"Blackie, I'm not going to hurt you. I'm Billy," the boy begged, but Blackie continued to strain away from him. Moving slowly, Billy stretched out his leg to press down on the trap spring and release her. As his foot touched the spring, Blackie whirled and seized him by the leg. The shock was so sudden that Billy screamed.

He stood motionless with the dog gripping him just below the knee. His trouser leg partly protected him and the dog had not entirely clamped home; even so, the pain was intense and he dared not move. "I'm only trying to help you," he wailed. "Why do you want to bite me? I didn't set that trap. Let me go." Blackie rolled her amber eyes at him but did not relinquish her grip.

Billy continued to plead with the dog but the pain was too intense. He could not stand it. Recklessly, he forced his foot down on the trap spring. As he did so, Blackie tightened her grip and he could feel her teeth go through the cloth into his flesh. He screamed again. One more effort and the trap opened.

"Get your foot out, you crazy dog," he sobbed. Blackie refused to move. Her foot remained in the trap and she still had him by the leg. She did not shake her head or worry him, she only held. Her bite was a threat rather than an attack.

Billy did not dare to lift her foot out of the trap. If she grabbed his bare hand—and he was sure that she would—he could not have stood the pain. Reaching around, he managed to pick up a stick and used that to lift the foot free, Blackie never relinquishing her grip on his leg. "Now get out of here," he wept. "I'm never going to do anything for you again."

Blackie still held on, watching him intently with her big eyes. Billy lifted the stick and struck her across the nose. With a snarl, Blackie let go and bit at the stick. Billy jumped back, fell as his hurt leg buckled under him and limped a few steps away.

For the first time, Blackie seemed to realize that she was free. She licked her injured leg and then tried to walk to the water. When she put. weight on her foot, it gave under her but with an effort she steadied herself and limped on three legs to the swamp. Here she drank, gasped for breath, and drank again.

Billy pulled up his trouser leg. His leg was black and blue from the pressure of the dog's jaws and there were two deep puncture wounds from the canine teeth. He sat down and rubbed his leg, swaying to and fro with pain, swearing and crying. Blackie ignored him. When she had finished drinking, she turned and limped painfully into the cover. Billy noticed how sagging her udders were. No doubt about it, she was still nursing the pups.

Getting to his feet, Billy tried to walk. It was easier than he had expected; no bones were broken and his leg was only badly bruised. Walking would be harder the next day when the leg had had a chance to stiffen up. He limped back to the path and made it to the road. There he sat down again to rub his leg and rest.

In the woods, a jay was screaming. That must be Blackie or perhaps Wolf. He stood up to see.

On the north side of the swamp, a heavily wooded ridge ran from east to west with a great scar marking the route of the power line. The long line of steel girders carrying their load of lines rose above the tallest trees. From where he stood, the boy could see a black dot crossing the gash and, while he watched it, he saw the dot joined by a gray form. They stopped together, seemed to greet each other, and then moved on. At the base of one of the steel towers was a rock pile formed by blasting when the concrete supports of the tower had been sunk. Here the two forms vanished.

While Billy was still watching, he heard the noise of a car and the warden drove up in his jeep. Jim Stoltzfoos swung himself out and looked at the boy inquiringly.

"Looking for roots?"

"Yes, that's right."

"We put out a pamphlet on wild plants and flowers. You want a copy sometime? It's free."

Billy hesitated. He did not wish to antagonize the man just then.

"O.K."

"I'll pick up a copy and leave it at the farm." He hesitated a moment and then, as though having come to a decision, "I put traps for those dogs along the swamp edge where they've been coming to drink. You been down there?"

"No, I've been looking for herbs."

"Well, I guess I'll see if there's anything in them. You know this has to be done, don't you?"

"Sure, sure. I guess so."

As soon as the warden had left him, Billy hobbled along the road and clambered up the hill until he could see the swamp. He saw Stoltzfoos go from trap to trap until he reached the one that had caught Blackie. Here the man stopped, bent over, and studied the ground. Finally he headed back to the car.

Billy saw him start the jeep, turn, and drive back. But instead of continuing along the road, he turned off on a side track that led to Ike Yoder's farm.

Only for a minute was the boy puzzled. Then he remembered Blue, the tracking dog. The warden had gone to borrow Blue and put him on Blackie's track.

In spite of his bad leg, Billy started toward the high tension line. His leg was growing stiff and he had trouble bending it, so often his foot caught in the honeysuckle and sent him tumbling. He fought himself free and kept on until he reached the heap of stones left by the blasting. Yes, there was a telltale mound of freshly dug earth beside the stones that led him to the entrance to the den.

A gray shape drifted by and, looking up, Billy saw Wolf. The coyote was dodging around the concrete base of one of the towers, looking out from behind it, first on one side and then on the other.

Billy wasted no time. He ran his hands through the earth at the entrance to the den and stamped on it until he was sure that the ground was thoroughly contaminated. Then he staggered along the rut and around a bend until he was hidden from the den. He sat down to nurse his aching leg.

When he looked up, there was Wolf watching him. Billy shouted at the coyote, "Don't go following after me. Haven't you got enough sense to know that a man is coming back after you? You get Blackie and the pups out of that den, you dumb wolf."

Wolf dodged back and disappeared. Billy sat miserable with indecision. He wanted to be able to watch the den to see if the family were evacuating it, yet he was afraid if he came that close they would be afraid to shift the pups. There was a tall pin oak near the edge of the cut, with limbs so close to the ground it could be climbed easily. Billy dragged himself to the tree and managed to get half way up. From here he could see the den.

Even as his head rose into position, he saw a little procession cutting across the gash. First came Wolf, carrying a pup in his mouth. Billy noticed with interest how the coyote had run his long jaws far along the pup's neck so he was holding the squirming baby only with his back teeth, not with his daggerlike canines. Then came two pups toddling along on their uncertain legs. Last and considerably to the rear of the troup was Blackie, limping gamely along, holding the smallest of the litter. In single file, the family vanished among the trees.

Billy climbed down, sparing his injured leg as much as possible. Crawling through the underbrush, he came to the edge of the gash where he could see the den. Here he steeled himself to wait, rubbing his numb leg at intervals.

The warden must have had trouble finding Ike Yoder, for it was late afternoon before Billy heard the sound of the jeep. Then came another maddening wait. In his position, Billy could not see either the swamp or the parked car and had no idea what the man was doing. He lay listening for Blue's bay but no sound came.

The boy was about ready to leave his hiding place and return to the farm when he saw the warden coming slowly up to the tower line with Blue on a lead. Billy muttered angrily to himself when he realized that the man was too wise to turn the dog loose and run the risk of having him take off on a rabbit or be lured away as Wasser had been. Blue was working very slowly; obviously tracking another dog did not appeal to him. Stoltzfoos was carrying a rifle and had the coil of wire over one shoulder.

Blue took him to the rock pile. Now for the first time the hound showed interest. His whiplike tail wagged eagerly; he cast around whimpering and then, breaking into his full bay, strained at the lead. He had hit Wolf's trail.

The warden let him follow it a few yards and then pulled the hound off. Especially on a lead, the hound could not hope to overtake the fugitives before dark. Stoltzfoos must have known the chase was useless, for he returned to the den. Here he bent over and studied the soft earth. Billy remembered that he had forgotten to hide the imprints of his hands and feet. The man straightened up.

"Boy, I know you're somewhere around," he called. "That was a wrong thing you did, son. It only makes things tougher for everybody later on. You're a good kid at heart and I sure wish I could help you some way. I sure do."

Billy, hiding in the hobblebush tangle, lay still until the man and hound had gone away.