Grizzly Fury

“Makes no sense.”

“Could be he was warning us off,” Rooster speculated.

Fargo doubted it. Why would a man-killer scare off prey? “We’ll take turns keeping watch.”

“I’ll take the first watch,” Rooster said. “I couldn’t sleep anyhow, after this.”

They sat with their rifles across their laps and resumed their meal.

Fargo filled his tin cup and sipped the hot coffee. He debated saddling up and lighting a shuck. But if the bear followed and came at them out of the dark, they’d be easy to take down. At least here they had the firelight to see by, and the fire itself was a deterrent.

“Wait until Moose and the others hear we saw it and heard it,” Rooster said. “They’ll think we’re bald-faced liars. Moose claims Brain Eater never makes a sound but then Moose likes to claim he knows things he doesn’t.”

Fargo was raising the cup to his mouth when from up the mountain came a loud whoof.

Rooster put his hand on his rifle. “You hear that? It was him again.”

They listened but the sound wasn’t repeated.

“At least he’s moving away from us,” Rooster broke their silence.

“Or wants us to think he is,” Fargo said. Long ago he had learned not to underestimate the innate cleverness of the bruin clan. They were intelligent and unpredictable and deadly.

“We could light torches and go after him,” Rooster proposed.

“Nothing doing,” Fargo said. They couldn’t track and keep alert for the bear, both.

“What’s a little risk when there’s five thousand dollars at stake?”

Rooster was grinning but Fargo could tell he was serious. “My life is worth more to me than money.”

“When you get my age you’ll think different. I ain’t as spry as I used to be. My scouting days are over and all I got to show for it was a watch the army gave me and a pat on the back for a job well done.”

“So that’s why you’re here.”

“It’s hell growing old,” Rooster said. “With my half of the five thousand I could get me a small place in Missouri. An acre or so with a house. I’d hunt and garden some and in the evenings I’d sit in my rocking chair and watch the sun set.”

“Never took you for the rocking chair type.”

“Neither did I. Truth is, pard, I’ve had my fill of the wilds and its dangers.” Rooster sat back and a dreamy expression came over him. “I’d like a peaceful life for a change. I’d like to get up in the morning knowing no one will try to lift my scalp or shoot me or I won’t be gored or torn to bits.”

“There’s no guarantee it will be us who gets the bear,” Fargo said.

“That’s a cruel thing to say.”

“I just don’t want you to get your hopes up.”

“Too late. They were up before you got here and now with you to help me, they are higher than ever.”

“Damn, Rooster.”

“I know. But I can’t help myself. I’ll do anything to earn that bounty. Anything at all.”

Fargo wasn’t sure he liked the sound of that. “Be careful you don’t get yourself killed.”

“We all die, hoss. It’s only a question of when.”

Now and then a wolf howled and coyotes yipped and for a while an owl sat in a tree and hooted at them, but otherwise the night was peaceful.

Fargo sat up the last half and woke Rooster by poking him with his boot as a pink tinge heralded the new dawn. They had coffee and pemmican and were in the saddle and on the move before the sun rose. For over an hour they roved in ever wider circles around their camp but they didn’t find so much as a smudge.

With Fargo in the lead, they headed up the mountain. He looked for tracks, as well as claw marks on trees. Bears were fond of leaving sign for other bears but not Brain Eater, apparently. At midmorning they drew rein on a crest overlooking a spectacular vista of virgin wilderness.

“The damn critter is a ghost,” Rooster griped. “Moose was right about that much.”

From their vantage they could see back down the mountains to Gold Creek. The buildings were mere specks in the haze.

“What now?” Rooster asked.

“It’s pointless to keep on,” Fargo said. The bear could be anywhere. To go on searching would be like looking for the proverbial needle in a haystack, only this needle didn’t stay still and finding it could take months, if it ever happened at all. Reluctantly, he turned the Ovaro toward the far-off specs.

By nightfall they reached the creek and made camp. Again they took turns sitting up but the night was quieter than the one before and the grizzly didn’t pay them a visit. They followed the creek and eventually came to Ira Stoddard’s cabin. The swarm of bear hunters was long gone.

It was early afternoon when they rode into town. Rooster said he had to go see somebody and they parted company. Fargo went straight to the Three Deuces, paid for a bottle, and claimed a chair against a side wall. He was filling his glass when perfume wreathed him and a warm hand fell lightly on his shoulder.

“I was beginning to think I’d never see you again,” Fanny Jellico said. She wore a pink dress that left nothing to the imagination. “Mind if I join you?”

“Be my guest.” Fargo pushed the glass across to her and took a long pull from the bottle.