, 1922-10-18
CHAPTER XIII

The shadow that Bruce saw at the
edge of the forest could not be mis-
taken as to identity. The hopes that
he had held beforehand this stalking
figure might be that of a deer or an
elk-could no longer be entertained.
Men, as a rule, do not love the wild
and wailing sobs of a coyote, as he
looks down upon a camp fire from the
ridge above. Sleep does not come cas-
lily when a gaunt wolf walks in a slow,
inquisitive circle about the pallet.
scarcely a leaf rustling beneath his
feet. And a few times, in the history
of the frontier, men have had queer
tinglings and %creepings in the scalp
when they have happened to glance
over their shoulders and see. the eyes
of a great, tawny puma glowing ar
odd blue in the freight. Yet, Bruce
would have had any one of these, or
all three together, In preference to the
Killer.
The reason was extremely simple.
No words have ever been capable of
expressing the depths of co%wardice of
which a CO ote is capable. He will
" AAAAAS aIA W10Ba q mi II u
soul lost between two worlds, but If
he is in his right mind he would have
each one of his gray hairs plucked out,
n by one, rather than attack a man.
The cunning breed to which he belongs
has found out that 1t doesn't pay. The
wolf is sometimes disquietingly brave
when he is fortified by his pack breth-
rem in the winter. but in such a season
as this he is particularly careful to
keep u of the sight of man. And the
Tawny One himself, white-fanged and
long-clawed and powerful as he is,
never gets farther than certain dread
full, speculative dreams.
But none of these. was true of the
Killer. He had already shown his
scorn of men. His very stride showed
b a he feared no living creature that
shared the forest with him. In fact,
he considered himself the forest mas
ter. The bear is never a particularly
timid animal, and whatever timidity
the Killer possessed was as utterly
gone as yesterdays daylight.
Bruce watched him with unwinking
eyes. 1t might be that the Killer would
fail to discern his outline. Bruce had
no conscious knowledge, as yet, that
1t is movement rather than form to
which the eyes of the wild creatures
are most receptive. But he acted up
on that fact now as if by instinct. He
was not lying in quite the exact spot
where the Killer had left his dead the
preceding night, and possibly his out
line was not enough like it to attract
the grizzly's attention. Besides, In the
intermittent light, it was wholly pos
sible that the grizzly would try to find
the remains of his feast by smell
alone; and If this were lacking, and
Bruce made no movemen to attract
his attention, he might wander away
in search of other game.
For the first time In his life, Bruce
knew Fear as 1t really was. 1t is a
knowledge that few jewellers in cities
can possibly have; and so few times has
1t really been experienced in these days
of civilization that men have mostly
forgotten what 1t Is like. If they ex-
perience it at all, 1t is usually only in
a dream that arises from the germ
Ih''aAA "a w Phl ulN &c tlG
muscles and chill the heart and freeze
a man in his bed. The moon was
strange and white as 1t slipped in and
out of the clouds, and the forest, mys-
FERROUS as Death itself, lightened and
darkened alternately with a strange
effect of unreality; but for all that
Bruce could not make himself believe
that h was just a dream. The
dreadful reality remained that the
Killer, whose name and works he
knew, was even now investigating him
from the shadows one hundred feet
away.
The fear that came to him was that
of the young world-fear without rec
ompense, direct and primitive fear
tnat grew on him like a sickness. 1t
was the fear that the deer knew as
they crept down their dusky trails at
night 1t was the fear of darkness
and silence and pain and heaven
knows what cruelty that would be WIS.,
tied upon him by those terrible rend-
ing fangs and claws. 1t was the fear
that can be heard In the pack song in
the dreadful winter season, and that
can be felt in strange o%vertones. In the
sobbing wall of despair that the coyote
utters in the ha~lf-darkness. He had
been afraid for his life every moment
he was in the hands of the Turner's.
He knew that If he survived this night,
he would have to face death again.
He had no hopes of d%eliverance alto
gether. But the Turner'S were men,
and they worked with knife blade and
bullet, not rending fang and claw. He
could face men bravely; but It was
hard to keep a strong heart in the face
Of this ancient fear of beasts.
The Killer seemed disturbed and
moved slowly along the edge of the
moonlight. Bruce could trace his