Jagger

by Alexander Key

  At that moment Danta Rush strode back inside, wiping his hands on a rag. “Well!” he said, chuckling. “I see Cleo has accepted you—which is a great wonder. This is her house, you know. She barely accepts me. She just permits me to live here so long as I feed her. Which reminds me: I haven’t had breakfast yet, and I’m sure you could eat some more by now. They tell me you don’t care for meat, so how about sharing a pot of oatmeal with me?”

  Jagger thumped his tail and nodded. He wasn’t sure what oatmeal was, but the picture of it he drew from the Indian’s mind was very much like the tasty porridge he was given at home. When it was finally brought from the kitchen—a huge bowl of it with a generous square of butter melting in the milk on top—he went after it as eagerly as if he’d had no food at all that morning. Danta Rush, with a much smaller bowl, sat down near him on the hearth, and they ate together. Cleo, ignoring her dish of milk, sat watching.

  “You are wondering about Nan and Peter,” the Indian said presently. “They’ve had a bad time of it lately. You see, their father was lost in a plane accident. Er, do you know about planes?”

  Jagger, his head cocked attentively to one side, nodded sagely. He’d never seen a plane in his life, but he’d learned all about them in the Elder’s classes. They were primitive flying contraptions the Elder’s people had used ages ago, before they discovered how to nullify gravity.

  “It happened in South America,” Danta Rush went on, just as if he were talking to another person instead of to a huge white dog with a floppy ear. “John was going to a medical convention in Brazil when his plane crashed in the jungle down there. Seems everybody was killed.” The bronze man shook his head. “That was a year ago, but it’s still hard to believe. I thought so much of John.… Anyway, the kids were staying with their Uncle Rob at the time—he was John’s brother—but they’d hardly got word of the accident when Rob suddenly got sick, and died. Mighty queer, that. For it left Tess—Rob’s wife—to look after Nan and Peter and inherit half the property.”

  Danta Rush shook his head again and frowned at Cleo, who was staring at the wall as if she could look through it and see something unpleasant outside.

  “That devilish Tess,” he muttered. “I’d better tell you about her. She’s Mrs. Luis Gomez now—didn’t wait a month to marry that little Cuban horse trainer at the farm. Clever man with horses, but he’ll do anything she says. She’s a big woman with an iron jaw. Oh, a sweet-talking one on the surface—butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth—but heaven help you if you cross her.”

  The Indian paused, then said quietly, “She fills me with a great fear, Jagger. Thornberry Farm is the best ranch of its kind in the state. She could sell it for half a million—and she’d get it all if anything happened to those children. Yet, I don’t know what I can do to help them. I’m not allowed on the place when that woman is there, and she’s forbidden Nan and Peter to come here. So I suppose the best thing is to just sit tight and be ready—” He stopped, and burst out abruptly, “Cleo! What’s the matter?”

  The tortoiseshell cat was still staring at the wall, but now she was cringing and backing slowly away, her golden eyes great circles of fear. All at once she whirled and shot through the doorway to the bedroom, and vanished under the bed.

  To Jagger it was obvious that Cleo had felt the presence of some unknown but terrible danger outside. He could feel it now himself, nor did he have to see it to know it was there. For a moment he almost imagined that the danger was Tess Gomez, for the woman had been so strong in his thoughts that he could visualize her perfectly and feel the evil behind her pale eyes. Then he realized it was nothing human that had frightened Cleo.

  Jagger reached out with his mind, exploring the woods near the cottage, but almost on the instant he recoiled, the hackles rising on his neck. A deep growl rumbled in his throat.

  Danta Rush leaped to his feet. “What’s wrong, Jagger? What’s out there?” He caught up a weapon leaning by the fireplace.

  Jagger shook his head. No! he urged. Don’t go outside now. Death is out there. It is watching for us.

  That was the only way he could put it. For his mind had touched a blackness near the cottage, a swirling, raging blackness, demented and senseless—and utterly and completely deadly. In all his life he had never encountered anything like it. Yet he knew that it came from a living creature, and that he must prevent Danta Rush from going outside.

  The bronze man was almost at the door when Jagger forced himself upright. It took all his strength to reach the door first and block the way. Resolutely he stood there, refusing to move.

  Danta Rush frowned, puzzled. “You think it would be dangerous for me to go out there, Jagger?”

  Yes, Jagger replied, nodding.

  “Something out there might kill me?”

  Again Jagger nodded.

  “Is it human?”

  Jagger shook his head.

  “Then you must let me out,” the Indian said urgently. “If the thing is really dangerous, I must destroy it before it hurts someone.”

  Reluctantly Jagger moved aside, and Danta Rush eased the door open and slipped out as quietly as a shadow.

  FIVE He Encounters Trouble

  Jagger returned to the hearth and waited. He was upset and vastly uneasy. A deadly creature stalked the woods outside. Jagger was of the great race of guardians, and it was his duty to go forth and investigate, and even kill if necessary. But today he could not, and his pride suffered. Not only that, but he was worried for the bronze man’s safety. There was something about the unknown thing that made it more frightening than any animal he had ever known.

  After a long while the door opened and Danta Rush came back in as quietly as he had left. “Not a sign of it,” he muttered, shaking his gray head. “No tracks, no sounds, nothing. It’s not out there now, thank heaven—but it certainly was at first. I could feel it. So could everything else. All the birds hid. The chickens were petrified. I don’t understand it, Jagger.”

  The Indian went to the window and stood scowling at the woods. “What could it have been?” he asked, puzzled. “The only really dangerous animal in this part of the country is an occasional she-bear with cubs. But that was no bear, or I’d have found signs of it. And I can’t believe it was a panther. Anyhow, panthers are not bad fellows. This thing was—bad.”

  Suddenly he turned and said, “Jagger, during the accident or whatever it was that brought you here, could something else have been displaced with you? Something from your world?”

  Jagger had already considered this possibility, and had immediately discounted it. Such dangers didn’t exist where he came from. Even the big cats, like the panthers here, were no threat to humans. He shook his head.

  “Well,” said Danta Rush slowly, “the thing is still around somewhere. If it isn’t some sort of phantom—which I don’t believe in—it’ll leave tracks. I’ve got to find those tracks, then figure out what made them and get Wad Purdom’s dogs over here. If I don’t, someone’s going to get killed. In the meantime …”

  Danta Rush stooped suddenly, and Jagger found himself being lifted and carried into the bedroom, and covered with a blanket.

  “You’ll be safer here if anyone comes,” the bronze man told him. “No one can see you through the windows, and I’ll lock the door when I go out. Now, I don’t know when I’ll be back, but I want you to get some sleep. You need it.”

  In his exhaustion Jagger was asleep almost the moment he closed his eyes, yet a small part of his mind remained awake and sharply alert. It was aware of Danta Rush going out and locking the door; it heard the chattering of squirrels in a walnut tree outside; and even while he slept on, it caused his ears to shift enough to pick up distant noises which it quickly analyzed and put aside as harmless.

  Twice during the morning this watchful corner of his mind heard the faraway yelping of dogs, and once there came a high, sharp cry of fear and pain that was abruptly broken off. These sounds made him stir uneasily, but did not waken him. At long las
t, however, he became aware of a sudden faint noise down the road. It had the jangling effect of an alarm.

  Jagger was wide awake on the instant. He raised his great head, realizing even as he listened that he had been asleep a long time, and that it was now well into the afternoon. The thing he had heard was a car coming from the direction of Thornberry Farm. By its sound he easily recognized it as the one belonging to Big Joe Tanner.

  As it drew nearer he wondered where the other cars were that earlier had followed Big Joe’s to the farm. Then he was surprised to hear them approaching from the opposite direction, moving down through the woods the way he’d ridden when Danta Rush had rescued him.

  Jagger puzzled over this a moment, then quickly decided the timber road along the ridge must have a fork. The remaining cars had taken the fork in order to swing over and pick up Waddley Purdom and the other men who had spent most of the day tramping across the ridge.

  The first car stopped in front of the cottage. Presently the other cars approached and stopped near it. He could feel the frustration and anger in the men as they got out and held a short consultation. Finally heavy footsteps crossed the porch. Someone pounded on the door, then rattled the knob.

  “Open up, Rush!”

  The voice was deep and demanding, and Jagger wondered why the humans of this curious world so loved authority. At home no one wanted to lord it over others, or even impress them with what he owned. It seemed so silly, when knowledge and understanding were what really mattered.

  In the middle of his wondering he was surprised to hear Danta Rush call out in answer from somewhere in the woods. Soon the Indian’s light tread sounded near the porch.

  “You seem upset about something, Wad. What’s going on?”

  “You know daggone well what’s going on!” the deep voice growled. “Seems to me you know a little too much! Just what were you doing up at the end of the road this morning with those Thornberry kids?”

  “Any reason I shouldn’t be up there if I wanted to investigate something? It happens to be my land.”

  Waddley Purdom swore. “I don’t care who owns it! I asked you a question. You gonna answer it?”

  “I’ll answer it when I get ready,” Danta Rush said firmly. “Now all of you calm down and listen to me a moment! This is far more serious than any of you realize. First, what’s happened to your dogs? Joe, you had two this morning. Where are they?”

  “One’s in the car trunk, dead,” Joe Tanner ground out. “The other disappeared, same as Mr. Purdom’s did.”

  “What killed your dog, Joe?”

  “That devilish banshee done it! What else?”

  “How? By breaking its neck?”

  “No,” the other rasped. “The varmint clawed it to death.”

  Waddley Purdom said angrily, “Why all this nonsense, Rush?”

  “This is no nonsense, Wad. I didn’t see those dogs that were killed the other day, but I understand their necks were broken …”

  “Well, what of it?”

  “Were any of them clawed?”

  “No. What are you getting at?”

  “Just this,” Danta Rush said slowly. “An animal that kills by breaking another’s neck doesn’t go in for clawing. What I’m getting at is that your dogs started out to hunt one animal this morning—probably a big dog—but lost the trail and then quite by chance picked up the trail of another creature entirely.”

  The Indian paused, then said, “Joe, when was your dog killed?”

  “Soon after we got to the bridge. They started following a fresh trail right off. So I figure we got there just in time to turn the varmint an’ keep ’im from escaping to the mountains.”

  “No, you figured wrong, Joe. As nearly as I can make it out, you got there just in time for your dogs to get in the creature’s way. It was coming down from the mountains, and God help anything that crossed its path. Your other dog was probably killed too. Then the thing came on over in this area, and Wad’s dogs picked up its trail.”

  “Yeah?” Joe Tanner sounded unbelieving. “How come you know so much?”

  “Because I’ve spent the best part of the day trying to piece things together. I found where Wad’s dogs caught up with the thing. It’s over the slope here, by that little waterfall on Spring Branch. Wad, I hate to say it, but you lost a dog there. He was clawed to death.”

  “No!’

  “Go see for yourself. But don’t go alone.”

  Waddley Purdom cursed. “I’m not afraid of that devilish dog killer! I’ll fix it if it’s the last thing I do! Er, any idea what happened to the rest of my pack?”

  “They were scared off.”

  “You—you’re crazy! My dogs wouldn’t run from a tiger!”

  Danta Rush sighed. “Maybe not, Wad, but this is something else. It’s worse than a tiger. Right now it’s ten times as dangerous, and nothing with any sense will go near it. We’ve got to warn people to stay out of the woods till we destroy it.”

  There was a sudden silence. Finally someone muttered, “What you reckon it is, Rush?”

  “Don’t know yet. I’ve been trying to find a footprint. But with all the leaves—”

  “I know what it is,” Joe Tanner’s gravelly voice interrupted. “There ain’t but one banshee in these woods, an’ it’s the same big white varmint Curly an’ me seen the other day. Big as a danged horse, he is. I don’t rightly know what you’d call it—banshee’s as good a name as any—but that’s what we been after from the start, an’ that’s what killed all our dogs.”

  “Joe’s right,” Waddley Purdom growled. “Rush, you’re sure off the beam—unless you got some reason to mix us up. Have you?”

  “Why would I do that, Wad?”

  “You know why!” the deep voice said accusingly. “You hate our dogs—always complaining about ’em taking after the deer. As if a few deer mattered! Why, I wouldn’t put it past you to make up this tale about a second varmint just so you could kill off some of my dogs an’ put the blame on an animal!”

  “Now you’re talking like a fool, Wad.”

  “Don’t call me a fool! Tell me what you were doing up at the end of the road this morning with the Thornberry kids!”

  “That’s none of your business, Wad.”

  “It is my business!” the deep voice rumbled. “I’m a rancher, and anything that could threaten my cows is my business! Joe tells me you picked up a sick dog that may have had anthrax. Now I want the truth. Out with it!”

  “Waddley Purdom, there’s no sick dog with anthrax. That was just Nan’s way of keeping Joe from being too nosy about something that didn’t concern him. It doesn’t concern you, either. Now I think it’s time all of you got on your way before we lose our tempers.”

  “Blast you!” Joe Tanner burst out. “What are you trying to hide, Rush? You’re sure up to something!”

  “That’s what I want to know!” Waddley Purdom rumbled. “What are you up to, Rush? You’d better tell me, or I’m going to make you one sorry man!”

  There was a silence, and Jagger could feel Danta Rush’s anger mounting dangerously. Suddenly the bronze man said, “I’m years older than any one of you, but I’m still a better man than any two of you. Now get out of my sight before I prove it!”

  SIX He Faces a Dilemma

  Jagger was astounded at the violence he could feel in the men outside. For a frightening moment he was afraid it would explode into a bloody fight. But under it all he could sense a curious respect and fear that held the violence in check. Not even Big Joe Tanner wanted to trade blows with the bronze man.

  There were mumbled threats and low mutterings, but finally the banshee hunters piled into the cars and rode angrily away.

  Danta Rush unlocked the door and came slowly into the room. He replaced his weapon in its corner by the fireplace, then stood on the broad stone hearth, scowling and snapping his long fingers. Suddenly he saw Jagger looking at him from the bedroom. A smile creased his leathery face.

  “So! You heard the whole
thing! Do people where you’re from act like those idiots?”

  Jagger shook his head. Then, raising it in a questioning gesture so that his floppy ear stood up, he tried to send forth a thought.

  The Indian picked up the substance of it immediately. “Am I a fighter of some kind—a fighter with my fists?” The dark face smiled again. “Yes, Jagger. You got that out of their minds—only you’d never heard of boxing. Evidently your friends at home don’t go in for that sort of thing. Well, in college I was the amateur heavyweight boxing champion—the world title—and those men know it. They also know I’m very handy with a rifle.”

  Danta Rush paused, frowning. “How do you feel now?”

  For answer, Jagger got carefully to his feet and walked into and across the living room. He was weak, but his legs were steady. He gave a little nod, then stretched out on the hearth.

  “Good!” said the Indian. “You’re doing better than I expected. In a couple more days you ought to be strong enough to help me. For I’m sure going to need some help. Jagger, can you follow a scent?”

  Jagger shook his head at an angle.

  “Not exactly your strong point, eh? Well, we’ve got to find that—that other banshee, or whatever it is, and put an end to it before it kills somebody. Think you can manage to locate it by some means or other, and lead me to it?”

  Jagger replied with a vigorous nod.

  Danta Rush looked relieved. “Thank heaven for that. Now, we’ve got to get in touch with Nan right away. I don’t have a telephone, though I doubt if it would help us if I did. That Gomez woman absolutely refuses to let me have anything to do with the kids, and on top of that she’s a good friend of Wad Purdom. If I know Wad, he’s on his way there right now to ask questions. We’ve got to warn Nan. See if she’s awake yet.”

  Jagger closed his eyes and concentrated. Nan, can you hear me?

  Her reply came almost instantly. “Of course I hear you! Stars alive, I’ve been trying to reach you for the longest time! Are you all right?”