Authors: Gary Paulsen
“That’s why I’m here, Mack. I was hoping to warn you but I guess I’m too late. Luke Miller was hit last night too, right before you, it appears. He lost better than half his new crop of lambs.”
Mack frowned. “Tell us how we can help.”
“I’ve called a meeting of all the ranchers in a hundred-mile radius. There’s no other way. That bear has to be stopped.”
“I’m glad you were safe in the shed when that grizzly came around last night.” Justin playfully pulled the milk bottle out of the little lamb’s greedy mouth. The fuzzy little creature dove for it and landed with both front hooves square in the middle of Justin’s stomach.
“You are a pig,” Justin laughed. “I should have named you Mr. Piggy instead of Blue.”
“I think Blue is a good name.” Aunt Polly came through the gate. “It suits him. He’s got the look of a blue-ribbon champion. The only way you won’t win first place at the county
fair with him this fall is if the judges are stone blind.”
Justin proudly stroked the pushy little lamb. “You hear that, Blue? You’re gonna be a winner!”
“You’d better get a move on, Justin. Mack’s already in the truck. If we’re going to be on time for the ranchers’ meeting, we’d better get going.”
Justin stood up, gave the lamb one last pull on the bottle, then put it up on the shelf. “That’s all for now, Blue. I’ll be back later.”
Justin followed his aunt to the truck and waited for her to slide in beside Mack. Justin got behind the wheel and looked in the mirror to make sure Radar was safely in the back of the truck before he started the engine. Radar loved to go anywhere the truck was going.
Justin was only thirteen, too young for a license, but no one out here ever paid any attention to things like that. Practical things were what mattered on a ranch. Things like missing school during lambing season, driving to the store for a load of feed, and staying
up in the high meadow in the summer for weeks at a time with the sheep.
As the old Ford rambled over the bumpy dirt roads, Justin glanced at his uncle. Mack McCallister was the only father he’d ever known. Justin’s parents had died in a car wreck in Helena when he was a baby, and Mack and Polly had raised him.
Mack was well liked among the ranchers because he worked hard and was always the first to lend a neighbor a helping hand. That was how he’d broken his hip, trying to help some friends round up a stray bull. The bull had butted the horse Uncle Mack was riding, and he had been thrown. The doctors said the break in his hip was bad and would take several months to heal.
Justin slowed down, changed gears, and turned onto a gravel road. He ran a hand through his thick, dark brown hair.
“You look fine, son.” Mack winked at him. “At least I’m pretty sure Sally Davis will think so.”
“Cut it out.” Justin’s face flushed, the pink
traveling all the way to the tips of his ears. “We’re here on business.”
Mack raised an eyebrow. “I’ll be sure and explain that to Sally.”
Polly elbowed her husband as the truck came to a stop in front of a weather-beaten log house.
Justin hopped out and took the wheelchair from the back of the truck. “You stay there, Radar. This shouldn’t take long.”
He helped his uncle into the chair and pushed him up the path to the house. Mrs. Davis invited them in and offered them coffee.
Justin looked around the room. It was crowded with serious-looking ranchers and farmers worried about their livelihoods.
Roy Davis banged on the edge of a table with a butter knife. “Now that Mack’s here we can get started.” He waited for the room to quiet down. “As you all know, the reason I asked you to come was because of the killer grizzly.”
Someone touched Justin’s arm. “You want
coffee?” Sally Davis held a cup out and smiled.
Justin found himself staring at her, trying to figure out what was different. She still had the same blond hair and blue eyes, the same dimples. He’d grown up with her and they had always been best friends. But for some reason, things weren’t the same lately, and he couldn’t quite put his finger on why.
“Hel-looo? Anybody here want coffee?” Sally said teasingly.
Justin blinked and reached for the cup. “Uh … thanks.” Embarrassed, he turned his attention back to Sally’s father.
Mr. Davis was telling the group that he’d been in touch with the local forest rangers. “They say this bear fits the description of one from Yellowstone that lost two cubs to an illegal hunter. I tried to explain what’s been going on up here, but they just don’t seem to understand the problem.”
“I don’t think we ought to waste time talking.” Luke Miller waved his fist in the air. “I think we should trap the thing and be done
with it. All our ranches will be wiped out soon!”
“It’s gotta be poisoned.” A man in a long brown sheepskin coat stood up. “The only way to make sure it will leave us alone is to kill it.”
“Maybe a group of us could go out after it,” another man chimed in. “I’d like to go, of course, but we just finished lambing and I have to stay and tend to my stock.”
“Unfortunately that’s the boat most of us are in right now.” Roy Davis rubbed his beard. “So I propose we send a representative to the head ranger’s office in Billings and force them to take action. And I nominate Mack McCallister to be that representative.”
“I don’t like leaving you,” Aunt Polly said as she watched Justin put her bags and Uncle Mack’s in the bed of the truck. “Especially with that crazy bear roaming around.”
Mack leaned across the seat. “So far the grizzly hasn’t come back to any place twice, but if he does, I don’t want you taking any chances.”
“You guys worry too much. It’s not like you’ve never gone away before.” Justin stepped back from the pickup. “Go on. And have a good time in Billings. I’ll see you in a few days.”
Aunt Polly put the truck in gear and started down the road. Justin waved and yelled, “Don’t worry!”
When they were out of sight, he gave Radar a pat and headed for the pens. “We’ll give everything one last check before we turn in.”
He stopped by Blue’s pen first. The lamb ran to the gate, sniffing for food. “It won’t do you any good to beg. You’ve already had your supper. Now get back in the shed and go to sleep.”
All evidence of the grizzly’s attack the night before was gone. Justin had worked hard to clean things up and calm the sheep down.
Old Molly was nestled in a bed of straw in the barn. Justin dumped her water and gave her a clean bowl. “Here you go, girl. Just take it easy.”
Justin closed the barn door and he and Radar trotted to the house. “Okay. It’s just us guys. What should we do first?”
The collie barked and wagged her tail.
“Popcorn and a movie? Good choice.” Justin opened the door and Radar ran past him into the kitchen.
Justin took a skillet out of the cabinet and put it on the stove. He poured in some oil and added the popcorn.
Radar’s ears went up. She growled at the window.
“I’m hurrying. This stuff’ll only cook so fast.”
The collie barked and nervously ran to the window and back.
“What is it, girl? We were just out there. Everything’s all right.”
The dog snarled and jumped at the door.
“Okay, let’s go take a look.” Justin turned off the burner. “Hang on. I better get the rifle.”
There was still enough light to see the outline of the pens from the porch. Justin squinted, trying to get a look at the sheep. Nothing seemed out of place, but Radar took off like a shot.
Before Justin could make it to the bottom
step he heard an enraged bellow and a crashing sound coming from the shed.
He ran to the barn, flattened himself against the wall, took a deep breath, and peered around the corner.
A huge bear had her head and one front shoulder through a hole she had punched in the shed wall and was angrily trying to get farther in.
She was the biggest animal Justin had ever laid eyes on. Her fur was tipped with silver and glistened, even in the dim light. The hump behind the bear’s head told Justin she was a grizzly.
Radar ran up and bravely nipped at the bear’s hind leg, darted back, then did it again. The grizzly was in no mood for games. She took a swipe at the dog with her front paw, catching Radar alongside the head.
It was like watching someone swat a fly. The collie sailed through the air, hit the barn wall, and fell to the ground, motionless.
The hole in the shed wall was bigger, and the bear was still trying to push inside.
Justin leveled his rifle. He took aim and pulled the trigger.
It was hard to tell in the fading light where the bullet hit. There was a dull thud, and the wounded bear arched sideways, pulling free of the hole. She stopped for a moment and looked at Justin, whose shaky hands were frantically trying to lever another round into the chamber of the rifle. Then the bear bolted into the woods.
Radar crawled weakly to her feet and barked at the shadows. Justin leaned the gun against the barn wall and knelt to examine the dog. As best he could tell, there were no broken bones. He stood and scolded the dog. “Next time, you better wait for me, girl. It’s a miracle you aren’t hurt.”
Justin turned to the shed. The thick planked plywood wall was ruined. He’d have to patch it up for now and then try to rebuild it tomorrow.
He walked around to the front of the pen that was attached to the shed, and opened the gate. “Come on out, Blue. You’re safe now. Blue?”
At the back of the pen near the shed door Justin saw a crumpled ball of white wool.
“No!” Justin ran to the lamb. Bright crimson blotches covered Blue’s woolly side. Justin picked him up. But it was too late.
The lamb was dead.
It was too dark to see the cold, angry puffs of air coming from Justin’s nose and mouth. It was just barely morning. He’d already fed and watered the stock, making sure there was extra food and water in case he wasn’t back in time for the night feeding.
He shrugged into his backpack and reached inside the gun cabinet for his uncle’s favorite rifle. Justin had fired the gun once before. It had left a purple bruise above his armpit that hadn’t gone away for a week.
He found a box of shells and loaded four
rounds into the rifle’s magazine. The gun was powerful. He only hoped it would be powerful enough.
“Let’s go, Radar.” Justin knew the grizzly was wounded. That would mean she couldn’t travel as quickly as usual. It also meant she’d be meaner than ever.
Justin stepped off the porch and let Radar lead him through the pens to the edge of the woods. He unclipped a flashlight from his belt and scanned the ground. The grizzly’s tracks were plainly visible, and so were several drops of dried blood.
The large paw prints were fairly easy to follow. The bear had crashed through the undergrowth, leaving a wide path of broken tree limbs and crushed plants.
Radar sniffed the ground and trotted ahead. Justin held the rifle in both hands. Ready.
After a few hundred yards, the trail of blood stopped. Justin found a place where the bear had rolled over a large log and scratched all around it, probably looking for grubs. “I must not have hit her in a very good spot,
girl. She doesn’t seem to be hurting much, or in too big of a hurry.”