Chapter 9 #2
For some reason, that made him want to get the story right.
He sat on the log next to Gabe. Some memories were easier to share than others.
“It was the same day I made the purchase of the ranch at the Land Office in town.”
“When was that?” Paddy asked.
“Five months ago,” Gabe replied to his friend.
“That’s exactly right. You remember when I first came to Elkhorn?”
The boy shrugged, but a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “There was still snow on the ground.”
Caleb nodded. “And it was cold.”
He recalled stopping at the livery and having a long conversation with Malachi Rogers about Elkhorn. They stood in the little office area, and he’d warmed himself by the stove. Gabe had been there, as well, while they talked.
“After I left the Land Office, I come riding out here. It was quiet, except for the wind sighing through the trees. Then, I caught something out of the corner of my eye. An animal moving through the pines off to the left of the road.”
“Was it Bear?” Paddy chirped.
“At first, I thought it might be a cougar stalking me—”
“Like the one you kilt up by Devil’s Claw,” the younger boy added.
“Right. But there was something about how he moved that made me rule that out. I thought, maybe a hungry wolf or a coyote.”
“Good thing you didn’t shoot it.” Paddy petted the dog.
“I wouldn’t. Not unless it attacked me first. Also, I saw nothing more of it till I reached that place over yonder where the valley opened up onto meadow.”
Caleb remembered how the brown grass and gray boulders poked up through the thick snow.
The sky was the deepest blue, with wisps of clouds far off to the east. Ice formed a glistening fringe all the way down the river, as far as he could see.
The air was so cold, Pirate’s breaths looked like smoke from a locomotive.
As he described it, he noticed Sheila looking out across the valley as if trying to picture the scene for herself.
“As I turned to ford the river at a shallow place, that yellow dog come right out of the trees, the biggest, fattest rabbit this side of Denver dangling loose from his jaws.”
Bear lifted his head, eyeing them. Caleb was sure he understood they were talking about him.
He’d immediately been struck by the dog’s thick, healthy coat. Lighter color fur, almost white, spread across his chest and legs. His muzzle and ears had splashes of black. From the long legs and loose-limbed gait, he was young too, Caleb had judged.
“He followed me across the river and over the meadow till I finally reached this rise where I’d decided to build. When I climbed down off Pirate, that dog come up within eight feet of me, dropped his catch, and lay right down.”
“What did you do?” Gabe asked.
“I went over and picked up the rabbit. The critter was fresh killed and didn’t have a mark on it. I reckoned the dog must have scared him to death. So I asked him, ‘So what’s this, a peace offering? Or are you the welcoming committee?’”
“Did he answer?” Paddy wanted to know.
“Nope. He was being bashful. So I built a fire, skinned and roasted the rabbit, and the two of us ate our first meal together.”
For the next couple of days, the dog came and went, always returning with something from his hunts.
Pheasant. Turkey. More rabbit. And he was good company, too, alert and focused on Caleb, though still reserved.
A strange sense of kinship began to grow between the two of them.
The dog started sleeping at the edge of the camp, right at the point where the campfire gave way to darkness.
“That was it? You cooked him a rabbit and he became your dog?” Paddy asked.
“No. That ain’t all.” Caleb had more appreciation for Zeke’s storytelling skills now that he was trying to weave one himself.
“One night, not long after, I woke up with Pirate all restless and worried. There was no moon, and the fire had burned down low. That dog was standing not a foot from me. His yellow hackles were standing up like a porcupine, and he was staring off into the dark, growling low but fierce.”
Both boys growled in fun, and Bear cocked an eye at them.
Caleb noticed Sheila smiling at the sight.
“You boys sound more dangerous than the dog,” she observed.
“We are,” Paddy declared.
When a man had the hard earth for a bed and the night for a blanket, danger lurked out in the darkness. The weather had begun to warm with a January thaw. That night, the heavy thump of large approaching feet had Caleb reaching for his rifle.
“As I was looking out to see what he was growling at, a grizzly walked right up to the edge of the camp, drawn by the smell of fish or horseflesh, maybe. From the look of his shaggy coat, that bear had been hibernating. He was moving in that groggy, hungry way they get when they start to wake up.”
“A grizzly?” Sheila repeated quietly.
Caleb nodded.
“How big was he?” Gabe asked.
“I reckoned that monster would run to four hundred pounds, once he started eating regular again.”
But he wasn’t going to start his spring feed on Caleb’s horse or on him either.
“Where was your gun?” Paddy asked.
“Under my bearskin bedding. Real slow, I eased it out. But before I could cock it to fire, there was a flash of yellow fur. He charged right after the grizzly, barking and growling and sounding like a true hound from hell.”
“You rescued him.” Both boys spoke their praise at once, and the dog was showered with affectionate petting.
The beast rolled on his side, watching Marlowe.
“What happened next?” Paddy exclaimed.
“The griz was up on his back legs in a wink, ten feet tall at least, roaring and waving them long claws of his. But this dog weren’t impressed.
He was moving like lightning, darting in and out, side to side, barking and snapping at the legs and haunches.
That bear was not thinking about food no more.
He was only thinking about saving his hide. ”
Caleb thought about that battle and gazed at the dog, who seemed to be smiling at him.
When he glanced up, he found Sheila watching him rather than the dog.
The look lasted only a moment before she turned her attention back to Bear.
“The last I saw of that bear was his big butt end disappearing into the darkness with a yellow blur nipping at him and hurrying him along.” He brushed off his pants. “I listened to the barking and roaring and growling till I couldn’t hear nothing.”
That night, after adding a couple of logs to the fire, Caleb made sure Pirate was settled and then sat against his saddle, looking out into the black meadow, his rifle cradled on his lap. He was worried about the dog, but he couldn’t go after him in the dark.
“Did he come back right away?” Sheila asked.
“He did. A few minutes later, he trotted back into camp, proud as punch. Then the damnedest thing happened.”
“What?” Paddy asked.
“He lay himself down right next to me. It was the closest he’d come. And when I put a hand out to pet him—like you’re doing now—he didn’t move away.”
“Like you said, he picked you.”
“He did.”
“He’s a natural born bear hunter,” Gabe said.
“That’s exactly what I thought.” Caleb nodded. “So I decided to call him Bear.”