"If you are worried, the rat felt very little. The talons numb the pain."
"Yes, I know," said Billy staring, entranced, and yet horrified. It was the first time he had seen any living thing killed.
"More later, I will give him the rest," said Zook, putting the can in the shed and closing the door.
"Do the rats know what's going to happen to them?"
"Do you wish the owl to eat?"
"Can't he eat regular meat? I'd let him have some of my supper."
"No, he must have fur or feathers. He will spit the fur up in the form of a little ball and that keeps his crop clean. Besides something must keep the rats down or they would take over the barn. Why not let the wild creatures do it?"
Billy said nothing. For a wild owl to catch rats seemed all right, but to catch them and then feed them to an owl was somehow cruel. It was all very confusing.
Abe Zook led him to a high, rectangular structure near the shed and lifted out a front panel. Inside braces had been nailed to the walls to support a dozen thin trays. At the bottom of the structure was a small cast-iron stove.
"Start a fire in the stove while I lay out the herbs," said Zook. Billy was unaccustomed to starting fires, so after the old man had spread the herbs out on the trays, he had to make the fire himself. Then the trays were slid back into the structure and the panel replaced. Abe Zook carefully checked the drafts before he was satisfied.
"Tomorrow the herbs are dry for packing," he explained. "Now the chores we do."
The chores consisted of milking the cows, feeding the horse, and driving the sheep into the sheepfold with Wasser's help. It was growing dark when they had finished, and the chickens had begun to go to roost. Grip had already disappeared. As they headed back to the house, a dilapidated car pulled into the lane and Wasser rushed toward it, baying furiously.
"Make fast with your barking," called Abe Zook irritably. The car stopped and a lean man swung himself out. Like Abe Zook, he wore a flat, black hat with a wide brim, but he had no beard. The two men greeted each other, and then the stranger saw Billy.
"An auslander!" he said, surprised.
"Ach, a boy he is only. Come in, have a sitz."
They entered the cabin and Billy settled back on one of the benches by the fire to listen.
"I have much trouble," said the lean man, as he folded himself into a chair like a foot rule closing.
"By some people the trouble comes," agreed Abe Zook, sitting down on a box. "But all have got somewhat."
"Three sheep them dogs killed last night."
"I heard. But one is not a dog. He is a wolf. He leads the other on."
"This makes eight sheep they have killed this year, and many chickens. I have sat up for them with a gun but then they never come. We must run them down with dogs."
Abe Zook considered. "You left out the dead sheep?"
The other nodded. "Good. Perhaps they eat tonight. What dogs will you take?"
"All my three. Isaac Lapp is coming with his two. You will bring Wasser?"
"Wasser I'm bringing. Tomorrow before it makes light we go to where the dead sheep are. If the wolf and the dog who runs with him have come during the night to eat, we should be able to take them."
Billy could contain himself no longer. "Can I come?"
Both men started at the shrill voice. "Why no?" said Abe Zook. Then to his friend, "He is from the city and does not know our ways too well, but he is a good boy. Today he dug roots with me."
The lean man rose. "With you it is." He looked at Billy without any great enthusiasm. "One hour before sunup I come for you."
When he left, Billy was jumping with excitement. This did not seem like trapping or shooting, and he wanted to see what Wasser would do. Abe Zook explained to him how the hunt would be conducted. Everything depended on the killers coming back to their prey. Then the scent would be fresh and the dogs could be put on it at first light. He described the hounds as individuals, their strengths and weaknesses. Ike's Blue was the most reliable and had the best nose but was getting on in years. His Rock was fast and determined but lacked experience. "When a hound is old enough to really know hunting, then he is too old to hunt," said Zook wistfully. Buck was a good fighting dog and had brought bears to bay, but on the trail he was of little help. Isaac Lapp's Spot was good as long as he did not run trash—turn off on a fox or deer line. Squealer's only real attribute was his penetrating voice. "Without, a dog who will tongue the trace hard, the pack you will lose." The greatest problem, granted they found a hot scent, was that none of the pack was used to hunting such quarry. "This is where Wasser will be the best. He knows the scent and hates the wolf. To help him, I make a charm."
From a jar fat was produced, from an old boar raccoon who had fought off a pack of five dogs before the hunters could dispatch him. To this was added hair from the head of Jack Fasig, for many years the terror of the area, who had stood six feet four, weighed 260 pounds, and could pick up two 100-pound bags of flour under each arm. There was blood from a famous fighting cock and the tooth of a wildcat. To these was added part of a mandrake root, some of the precious ginseng, and wolfsbane. They were wrapped in a piece of paper and on it Abe Zook wrote, "Whoever has this letter shall not fail nor be defeated by an enemy."
"Tomorrow I will tie this around Wasser's neck," Abe Zook explained. "Now get ready to sleep. Tomorrow is a long day. First, I will put a fresh poultice on the hand."
Billy was tired; but now that he was able to go to bed, he twisted for what seemed hours before he finally dozed off. Once asleep, he slept so heavily that Zook had to shake him awake the next morning. Ike Yoder had come, and dimly he heard the two men moving about until Zook's reproving "The fire you should be making, no?" forced him to get up. Breakfast was a huge meal with Schnitz und Knepp—dumplings and apples—corn fritters, and molasses pie contributed by Yoder, whose wife was a famous cook. It needed only to be reheated.
The boy was still eating when the men finished. Abe Zook loaded his gun and then said somewhat irritably, "Ain't you ready yet? Come, eat yourself full." Billy bolted down the rest of his pie and joined them, although he was sorry to see the gun. The sky was milky in the east but the farmyard was still dark as a puddle of spilt ink. They clambered into the car and started off, with Billy and Wasser in the back seat, huddled together for warmth.
They stopped once at a small house by the side of the road to pick up Isaac Lapp and his two dogs. Isaac was a big, noisy man, who enjoyed asking Billy a series of riddles such as, "What kind of stones are found in a stream?" the answer being "Wet ones." By the time they reached the Yoder farm, it was light enough to turn off the car's headlights.
Ike went to the barn and returned with the three hounds: a bluetick, a long-legged Plott, and an eager young Walker. Wasser and Lapp's hounds jumped down from the car to greet them. Obviously all the dogs knew each other and after a brief exchange of sniffs they scattered through the wet grass, looking for rabbit tracks. The men brought them back with shouted orders and started across the pasture.
"The scent should be good—the old ladies are airing their nightcaps, eh boy?" said Lapp. He pointed to the dew-covered spider webs gleaming like lace on the grass in the thin light. Yoder said glumly, "Like falling weather it looks."
"Ah, the rain will hold off until evening," replied Lapp, glancing up. It was a day of steel sky, forbidding without being actually threatening. Billy, abashed by the presence of the two other men, plodded along silently. The cold air hurt his lungs, and jets of smoke sprang from his mouth at each step. He saw Wasser casting around with the charm tied to his neck and called to him. The hound ran over but Abe Zook sent him back. "He must stay with the others," he told Billy. "Today he must work, not play."
They came to the angle of the fence where the bodies of the sheep lay piled together, wedged into the wire. They had been trapped here by their pursuers and savaged in the frenzy of the hunt. Lapp knelt by the torn forms and pointed to bloody wounds. "Well, they was back las
t night. These marks are fresh, ain't they?"
"Fresh they are," said Ike Yoder joining him. "A lantern we want yet. Tracks there are maybe."
Lapp struck a match while the hounds ran up to sniff the dead animals. "Can't see nothing," he complained. "Wait a minute. Maybe this is a track." One of the hounds ran over and buried his nose in the mark. "Look, dog, how can I see if you've got your nose in it?" He cuffed the hound away and struck another match. "Hey, Zook, take a look at this."
The old man moved over with long strides, and after one look, called Billy to him. "See the footprint," he told the boy. "Longer than a dog's and the mark of the side toe is larger."
"Uh-huh," agreed Billy, although he could hardly make out the impression. Lapp lighted another match and showed him one of the hound's prints.
"See the difference?"
"Is that the werewolf?" the boy asked.
Lapp laughed and tossed the match on the ground. "That old powwow man's been filling you with a lot of talk, boy. Well, it ain't no dog's track, I'll tell you that. But it ain't no wolf. I'd say it's a coyote. Sometimes they come in from the West."
"What is a coyote but a small wolf?" said Abe Zook quietly. "Two—three times before such an animal has come, but only when an evil braucher dies."
"I'll bet I know where this one came from." Lapp straightened up. "There's a regiment of soldiers up at Indian Town Gap who had their basic training out West. Some of them got coyote pups as pets and brought them along with them. This one got away and went wild again."
"The dogs put on," said Ike Yoder impatiently.
"First we had better try Wasser," added Abe Zook.
No one objected and he called over the hound, who ran to him, eager but puzzled. "Sic, boy, sic!" said Abe, patting the ground by the pad mark. Wasser cast about enthusiastically, but Blue, who had been watching and now came over, was the first to give tongue. At once the rest of the improvised pack hurried to the spot.
The men shouted and Ike cried, "To Blue go!" The pack ran to the wise old hound, but sniffed uncertainly until Wasser arrived. Instantly recognizing the scent, Wasser gave tongue and the rest joined in.
Billy expected to see the pack take right off and was disappointed to have them swirl about like blown leaves, baying as they hit the line but then losing it again. The scent was not strong by the fence, for it was partially obliterated by sheep tracks, and the hounds were uncertain how the quarry had run. Blue was trying to work it out step by step, with Wasser helping him, while the others ran about more or less at random, yelping when they struck a trace of odor but making no attempt to follow it. Abe Zook and Ike Yoder stood quietly, letting them work it out, but Isaac Lapp kept up a series of shouts to encourage his two dogs.
Suddenly the pack hit the line and burst into full cry. Once Billy had been passing a taproom where a juke box was braying out one of the standard rock records that were as familiar as the racket of traffic. Suddenly through the routine syncopation a trumpet had risen—wild, inspiring, heart-stirring. Billy had stopped dead, his soul in his mouth. As long as the trumpet shrilled he had stayed there, his feet shuffling, his arms jerking, giving little gasps in time to the rhythm. The cry of the hounds hit him in the same way. It seemed as though they were talking to him and he involuntarily cried out, "You find him, dogs! You go after him!" The men laughed, and he was embarrassed into silence, ashamed that an animal lover like himself could be encouraging a hunt. He stood listening to the cadence of the cries. From the intent expressions on the men's faces, Billy was sure that they could interpret the sounds and he wanted to ask questions, but knew better than to talk at such a moment.
The whole pack congregated in a circle around a tuft of foxtail, their noses all buried in the grass, their tails wagging. They were working eagerly, each trying to suck up with his nose a decisive whiff of the odor they knew was caught there. Billy started to run forward but Abe Zook caught him and said, "Not so near yet! The wolf let them smell, not you!"
Wasser dropped back and made a long swing. Almost at once he gave tongue. The rest left the grass and rushed over. They examined briefly the line that Wasser had discovered, yelped expectantly, and then, ignoring the old hound, dashed forward. Only a few strides, and then the whole pack burst into chorus as they poured across the meadow.
"Now they're off," said Lapp. "I'll bet they're headed for the ridge. They'll follow that fence, go along the pipeline and jump that coyote in Swamenburg's woods. What you think?"
"Maybe," said Abe. "Let us go over the hill out and look if anything breaks from the woods over the road."
They hurried back to the car and Ike Yoder started it with a force that made the gravel spurt under the tires. They had lost sight of the pack and could no longer hear them over the noise of the engine. On the way to the farm, Yoder had been a slow, cautious driver, but now he tore along like a madman, the car leaping and jolting over the potholes. Then to Billy's shock, he gave the wheel a sudden twist and went right across a field, following the open gap of a pipeline. At the top of the ridge he killed the engine and everyone leaned out to listen, Billy trying to hold his breath so he could hear better.
Far away he could hear crows crying angrily. Then came the sound of a house dog barking, which for a moment, Billy thought might be the cry of the hounds. They waited a few minutes more but no other sounds came to them. Ike Yoder abruptly threw the car into gear and they were off again.
They rocketed down the far side of the hill at full speed, the car swaying so that the boy had to cling to the side. They hit the dirt road farther down and tore along it. The woods came to an abrupt end here, and Yoder stopped. Everyone strained with listening.
"There they are," said Lapp, jumping out. The other men followed him and, in his excitement, Billy fell. Abe Zook angrily jerked him to his feet and muttered, "Don't be such a dumkoft!"
Now they could clearly hear the hounds. "Oh, that's welcome!" breathed Yoder. They continued to listen, Billy scarcely daring to breathe.
"They're coming back from the woods," said Yoder after a minute.
"They've split," added Lapp.
Abe Zook said nothing. Billy was bursting to ask questions but did not dare, for the men were still listening intently.
"Rock and Squealer are on the dog that the wolf runs with," said Abe after a pause. "I have seen her and I think she is a female. They will not stay long on her. They are not much for another dog. They know something is wrong already."
Billy was now conscious that the baying was coming from two different directions. From a field below the ridge the boy could identify the cry of two hounds, one of them shrill. Even while he listened the baying petered away uncertainly, but from the woods above them came a deeper, surer chorus.
"Where do you think he'll break?" asked Lapp.
Abe Zook shrugged. "Here down by the fence maybe."
The men fingered their guns and said nothing. Billy stared at the long gash of the pipeline cutting and wondered what might suddenly appear there.
Rock and Squealer emerged from the woods, ran over to the men and then cast about looking for a fresh scent. Lapp called them over and heaved them into the car.
Abe Zook suggested, "Let us take the car and go to Five Points. Isaac, you stay here maybe?"
"OK, I'll stay," agreed Lapp. "I'll keep the dogs with me."
"Put leashes on them yet," said Yoder. The dogs were unloaded from the car, leads fastened to their collars, and Lapp held them while the others drove off.
Five Points was on the far side of the ridge, a place where five roads came together. As they started to get out of the car, there came the sudden scream of a wildly excited hound, not twenty feet from where they were, instantly joined by the yelling of the rest of the pack shouting the view. At almost the same instant, a brown form shot from the underbrush and flew past them. Billy got a quick glimpse of long legs, a narrow muzzle, and a curious undoglike lope, and then the creature had crossed the road and was gone.
"The werewol
f!" he screamed. "Now he's gone!"
Neither man answered. Both had been in the act of getting out of the car and neither had his rifle ready.
The pack tore across the road in full cry. There was a brief crashing as they went through the sumac tangle on the far side, and then they disappeared.
"Make down the hill," said Abe Zook, jumping back in the car.
They drove until nearly ten o'clock without seeing or hearing the hounds. Then they came on Lapp, walking wearily along with his gun over his shoulder, and no dogs. They stopped and he climbed into the car.
"I heard them a couple of times," he explained. "The dogs wanted to go so I turned them loose. Seems to me he's left the country by now."
Abe Zook shook his head. "I think not. They are pressing him too hard. He will stay where he knows the land."
"Then they've lost him," returned Lapp. "I ain't heard nothing for an hour or more."
Billy said suddenly, "There's a dog."
A hound was trotting along the road ahead of them, looking neither to the right nor left, and seemingly headed for home. "It's Buck!" said Yoder and speeded up the car. Buck jumped in gratefully and lay panting on the rear seat across Billy's lap.
Within a mile they came on Spot, Rock, and Squealer, heads down, tongues out, ears trailing. The men stopped, and loading the exhausted animals into the car, continued on. They were driving slowly along a stretch of road they had been over a dozen times that morning when Abe Zook abruptly leaned forward and pointed toward a valley below them. "Look once!"
In a distant field, they could see a flock of sheep running insane with fright. "Out, out!" bellowed Lapp, and the men tumbled out of the car—even forgetting to take their guns. Billy shouted and pointed. Running through the flock was another form that looked like a gray sheep. It was heading their way.
The Healer Page 5