The Adair County news., 1922-11-21

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
that 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
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 movements to attract
his attention, he might wander away
in search Of other game.
For the first time in his life Bruce
knew Fear as it really was. 1t is a
knowledge that few dwellers in cities
can possibly have; and so few times has
it really been experienced in these days
Of civilization that men have mostly
forgotten what 1t is like. If they ex-
perience 1t at all, it is usually only in
a dream that arises from the germ
plasm-a nightmare to paralyZe the
muscles and chill the heart and freeze
q man in his bed. The moon was
strange and white as it slipped in and
out of the clouds, and the forest, mys-
teriOus as Death itself, lightened and
darkened alternately with a strange
effect Of unreality; but for all that,
Bruce could not make himself believe
that this 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
that grew on him like a sickness. 1t
was the fear that the deer knew as
they crept down their dusky trails at
night; it 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 overtOnes, in the
sObbing wall of despair that the coyote
utters in the half-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 deliverance 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 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
movements by the irregularity in the
line of shadows. He seemed to be
moving more cautiously than ever,
now. Bruce could not hear the slight
est sound.
For an instant he had an eXult.
ant hope that the bear would continue
on down the edge of the forest and
leave him; and his heart stood still
as the great beast paused, shifting.
But some smell in the air seemed to
reach him, and he came stealing back.
In realitI the Killer was puzzled.
He had come to this place straight
through the. forest with the expecta-
ton that f0o od-fiesh to tear with his
fangs-wOulh be waiting for him. And
now, as he waited at the border of
the darkness, he knew that a strange
change had taken place. And the
Killer did not like strangeness.
The small that he had expected had
dimmed to such an extent that it pro.
NOTED no muscular impulse. Perhaps
it was only obliterated by a stranger
smell-one that was vaguely familiar
and wakened a slow, brooding anger
in his great beasts heart.
He was not timid; vet he retained
some of his natural caution and re-
mained in the gloom while he made
his investigations. Probably it was a
hunting instinct alone. He crept slow
| ly up and down the border of moon
light, and his anger seemed to grow
and deepen within him. He felt dimly
that he had been cheated out of his
meal And once before he had been
similarly cheated; but there had been
] singular triumph at the end of that
experience.