Scarlet drops spattered the basket and the grass. Fresh, glistening, dripping, the start of a trail of red that led into the trees.
Nate had his Hawken in his left hand. He rode slowly, cautiously. He had yet to determine who or what had attacked her.
Another dozen strides of the bay and Nate had his answer. He stopped and stared down in horror at the print clearly outlined in a plate-sized ring of blood. The shape, the size, the length of the claws. “Griz,” he said aloud.
The bay snorted and whinnied and stamped. It didn’t like the blood. It didn’t like the scent of the grizzly, either.
“Easy, boy,” Nate said, and patted its neck.
The thud of hooves, the crackle of brush, and Maklin was next to him. The Texan took one look at the print, and swore. “I heard the girl and saw you light out.” He raised his rifle. “She’s dead by now. You know that, don’t you?”
Nate nodded, and rode on. Every nerve in his body jangled with dread. He had tangled with enough grizzlies to be all too aware of how unpredictable they were, and how deadly. When aroused, they were savagery incarnate and virtually unstoppable.
“Those idiot Shakers are coming, but a fat lot of good they’ll be. You can’t fight a griz with love.”
“Quiet,” Nate said. He was straining his ears for the slightest sound. For all their bulk, grizzlies could be as silent as ghosts when they wanted to be, and it wouldn’t surprise him if this particular griz had heard them and was waiting to charge.
From somewhere up ahead came a crunch, as of teeth on bone.
The bay stopped and stamped. Nate quickly slid down and thrust the reins at Maklin. “Stay here,” he whispered, and advanced alone. He made less noise and with luck could take the bear by surprise.
The crunching grew louder.
Nate shuddered to think what was happening. Steeling himself, he crept past several spruce to a shoulder-high boulder. He crouched and edged far enough around to see a clearing on the other side—and what was in the middle of the clearing. His stomach did a flip-flop and bile rose in his gorge.
Typical of its kind, the grizzly was huge. Monstrous with muscle and bristling with hair, with a huge blunt head and a maw rimmed with razor daggers, it was chewing on a leg. Just a leg; it had ripped the limb off Sister Benedine and was feasting on the flesh.
The bear’s back was to Nate. He didn’t have a clear shot. Nor could he see Sister Benedine. Staying low, he began to circle. A few steps and he saw her.
The young Shaker lay on her side, her arms and remaining leg akimbo. Her cap was missing. Her dress was slashed and bloody and part of it, and parts of her, had been torn away. A crimson pool was forming under her; her cheek lay in her blood. Her eyes were wide.
Nate thought she was dead. Then she blinked, and moved. She was alive—and she was looking right at him.
“Please,” she said.
The bear growled and raised its red-rimmed mouth from her leg.
“Please,” she said again.
Nate knew what she wanted. He knew the risk it would put him in. He knew, too, what it would do to him, the nightmares it would bring. She wouldn’t survive what the bear had done; she was suffering terribly and would endure worse when the bear turned from her leg to devour the rest of her.
Nate raised the Hawken. He thumbed back the hammer. He pulled on the rear trigger to set the front trigger and curled his finger around the front trigger.
Sister Benedine did the last thing he expected. She smiled and said with tears in her eyes, “Thank you.”
At the blast the grizzly wheeled around and roared. Instantly, Nate clawed for a pistol. His were .55-caliber smoothbores. At this range they were almost as effective as a rifle. He swept one up and out and thumbed back the hammer, bracing for the bear’s rush and the onslaught of fang and claw.
Only the bear wasn’t there. The grizzly had spun back again and was halfway across the clearing. Bellowing at the top of its lungs, it plunged into the vegetation on the other side and crashed off into the woods, raising a racket that sent birds winging in panicked flight and squirrels scampering in fear to the tops of trees.
Nate waited, every sinew tense. He refused to accept the griz was gone. It would circle and attack. The seconds stretched into a minute and the minute stretched into several, and the bear didn’t appear. “I’ll be switched,” he said. Luck had favored him. The bear had been rattled by the shot and the smoke.
Nate moved into the open. Sister Benedine’s leg lay a few feet away, chunks missing from the thigh. As for Benedine herself, her eyes were still wide, but they were glazing over. “You asked an awful lot of me,” Nate sadly told the body.
With barely any sound at all, Maklin was there. He stood over Sister Benedine and said simply, “Hell.”
“She asked me to,” Nate said softly.
“You did right. That bear would’ve ripped her to bits. You spared her a lot of pain and suffering.”
Nate stooped and gently closed her eyes. “I’ll fetch a blanket and we’ll wrap her in it and bury her.” He turned as the undergrowth crackled anew. Into the clearing burst Elder Lexington and Sister Amelia and others. They showed little emotion as they ringed the ghastly corpse.
“Poor Sister Benedine,” Lexington said. “Taken from us when she was so young and so vibrant with the love of the Lord.”
“It was God’s will,” another Shaker said.
“His works He performs in mysterious ways,” remarked another.
Maklin swore and jabbed a finger at Lexington. “You’re the one they should blame. You’re the one who dragged these people out here. If you hadn’t gotten your harebrained notion, that girl would still be breathing.”
“It was the Lord’s idea for us to come here, not mine.”
Maklin nodded at the girl’s remains. “The Lord should be right pleased with Himself.”
Sister Amelia swung toward him. “This makes twice now you’ve taken our Maker’s name in vain. I won’t have it again, do you hear?”
“Be at peace, Sister,” Lexington said.
“I can’t help it, Elder. He has no faith, this one. He slanders us and he slanders He who made us.”
“How about you, Brother King?” Lexington asked. “Do you blame us for Sister Benedine’s death as well?”
“You should have sent someone with her,” was all Nate said.
“If I had, we would have two bodies to bury.” Lexington raised his arms to his followers. “Heed me. Brother Simon, you and Brother Bartholomew build a coffin. Keep it plain. Use pine and pitch. Sister Barclay, we’ll need refreshments. Sister Amelia, spread the word that we will conduct the service right after the sun goes down.”
“You’re holding a funeral?” Maklin said.
“Oh, goodness, no. We celebrate life, not death. Our service is a loving testament to Sister Benedine. We are committing her spirit to the care of the Lord. Both of you are invited.”
“No, thanks,” Nate said. “We should get back. Jeremiah Blunt is waiting to hear if we’ve found the Valley of Skulls.”
Lexington grinned and wagged a finger at him. “Ah, ah. The Valley of Skulls is no more. We call it Second Eden now, remember?”
“Calling a hog a cow doesn’t mean it will moo,” Maklin said.
“How is that again?”
Maklin turned to Nate. “Let’s get the hell out of here. Another minute of these lunkheads and I’ll bust a vein.” He lashed his reins and trotted off.
“What on earth is the matter with him?” Sister Amelia asked. “He has acted bitter toward us from the moment we met.”
“I don’t rightly know,” Nate said, and lifted his reins. “I should catch up. Nice meeting you.”