The Healer (22 page)

Even though Billy's sympathies were with Wolf and Blackie, he could understand why the coydogs behaved as they did. If they had been pure coyote, they and Wolf would probably have understood each other, but the coydogs thought differently than did their father. Obviously neither Wolf nor the pups were able to make allowances for the other's behavior. Wolf never took an unnecessary risk—in fact, it sometimes seemed to Billy that he avoided taking even necessary risks. When hunting deer, Wolf would never make a full-on attack, even with a helpless fawn. He always struck from the rear or side and if the quarry had to be stopped quickly, it was always Blackie who made the all-out attack. Abe Zook had told Billy that this only meant that Wolf was smart; the coyote could not run the risk of being crippled even for a few days, while the dog was not so far-sighted. Yet it made Billy uneasy. Wolf was not a coward; he had fought bravely enough against the dog pack in defence of his territory, yet it seemed to Billy that Wolf could never do anything in a straightforward manner. He always relied on stratagems when it would be easier to go right ahead. The pups were far more open in their behavior.

Twice Billy saw the family cut a woodchuck off from its hole. When the chuck turned at bay, Wolf would never go straight in. He swung around to get the chuck by the back of the neck and toss him. The pups hurled themselves right at the determined little fighter. Some of them were badly bitten but in the end their numbers and weight decided the issue. Then they devoured the quarry themselves, whereas Wolf always shared his kill with Blackie. Billy had seen the wild dog pack hunt and recognized the same tactics. Dogs relied on their numbers and their punishing jaws to drag down prey. Wolf could not understand such methods any more than the pups could understand his caution. Billy noticed that they paid less and less attention to the coyote, shouldered him out of the way, and did not seem to realize that without Wolf they would starve; for only by chance were they ever able to trap quarry in the open.

Billy decided that it was a great pity the animals had no means of communication. A few minutes talk would solve the whole problem. The coydogs would learn to respect Wolf's cleverness and he would have a better appreciation of the pups' strength and mutual cooperation. If only he could explain to the animals what the trouble was, everything would be simple. But perhaps as the pups were forced more and more on their own, they would learn how much they depended on their parents.

Perhaps they would have done so had there not been domestic stock available. Wolf and Blackie avoided killing stock unless driven to it by extremes of hunger, and then they went about it cautiously and at night. They knew too well that easy as these helpless creatures were to kill, there was always a man with a gun behind them and the men were backed by hounds that could harry them out of the country. The pups had none of this wisdom and were so contemptuous of their timid parents that the young coydogs could not imagine that they could learn anything from such fools.

Billy had often seen Wolf and Blackie follow cattle to pick up the grasshoppers and rabbits the herd disturbed, but they left the cattle severely alone. Now the boy saw that the coydogs were beginning to follow their parents. The pups started chasing the cattle, at first as a game, snapping at the cows' legs to make them run, and obviously regarding the whole business as a great joke. Billy saw Wolf snarl at them, but the coyote had long ago lost all control over his obstreperous offspring. The cows did not run far. Instead, they formed a ring, heads down, horns tossing, and the coydogs were careful to avoid that deadly formation, as well they might be. Billy was concerned mainly for the calves. The calves were small, had no horns, and their terrified bleatings seemed to excite the coydogs. However, the mothers protected them and the boy decided that soon the coydogs would tire of the sport and turn to less dangerous quarry.

A week later, Abe Zook came to the boy while Billy was milking the cows and began talking at once without any preamble, a sign that he was greatly upset.

"I have been talking to Ike Yoder. The coydogs are killing his sheep. No, wait once!" The old man held up his hand as Billy started to speak. "There is no doubt it is they. It is not the wild dogs. Ike saw them and he says they are like wolves. Never has he seen such animals."

"How many sheep did they kill?" asked Billy, dreading the answer.

"Eighteen. Some they ran to death. Some they killed but did not eat. Some they left torn but still alive. Ike took his gun and went out, but even with a gun, he was afraid of them. He says they turned on him. I am thinking I know why. Old Mrs. Kane says they have been killing her chickens. She tried to drive them away but they went for her. The same is true with Mrs. Elwood. Her chickens were penned up, but the coydogs broke down the wire to get at them. There were no men there and the women did not have guns, so the coydogs think that humans cannot hurt them, for they have only seen women and children. This is a bad thing."

Billy continued milking without speaking.

"Ike has sent for Jim Stoltzfoos. Now he must use poison or whatever to get them. I am sorry, for poison is bad. It kills all things. Yet now it must be."

"What about Wolf and Blackie?"

"What can I say? Next year they will have more pups if they are allowed to live. No, boy, I am telling you this so that you will be prepared. There is no place for the animals here anymore."

Billy could think of nothing to say except to wish that the pups had obeyed Wolf and so avoided their fate. Poor, stupid animals. They could not see ahead, and there was no way to save them.

The next day Billy met the coydogs himself.

Isaac Lapp had hired the boy to put out salt blocks around the pasture for his cattle, and as the blocks were heavy, Billy had borrowed Lapp's old mule and a light, flatbed cart. Like most of his kind, the mule was a stubborn animal and when Billy left the cart to unload some of the blocks, the mule took advantage of the situation to head back for the barn. Billy solved that difficulty by tying him up each time, which was a nuisance, but better than chasing the animal a quarter of a mile. This time he had tied the mule to a young locust and was putting out the blocks when he saw the biggest of the coydogs, a monstrous animal, half again as big as either Wolf or Blackie, trotting toward a stream with something in his mouth.

Billy dropped the block and followed. He saw the coydog stop, put down the object, and start digging in a gravel bar. Moving quietly, Billy got close enough to see what the object was. It was the foreleg and shoulder of a calf. The coydog was going to bury it and then dig it up later when it had grown "ripe" enough to make especially good eating.

In his anger, Billy shouted, expecting the coydog to run. Instead, the big brute spun around with an angry snarl and came toward him, head down, ears laid back, teeth bared. Billy suddenly realized that he was in a highly dangerous position. He had no weapon, not even a stone, and did not dare to run. Still shouting, he retreated toward the mule. The mule was even more frightened than he was. He could hear the animal rearing and plunging as he jerked against the reins tying him to the tree.

The coydog's attention was partly distracted by the movements of the mule and Billy was now within a few yards of the tree. He turned and ran. He could hear the coydog give an eager yelp as it started after him. Billy had never known that he could run so fast. He seemed to be flying as in his dreams, yet he felt that the coydog was rapidly overtaking him. He jumped for the lowest branch of the locust and pulled himself up. As he left the ground, he heard his trousers rip in the coydog's teeth and was nearly dragged down again, but he was able to kick himself free. He managed to get a knee over the limb and pull his legs clear, the thorns of the trunk tearing long bloody gashes in his hands. Below him, the mule was going mad. He climbed to a higher branch and looked down.

The coydog was leaping and snapping at the mule's throat while the mule was jerking on the tied reins, kicking sideways at the coydog and hurling himself against the shafts of the cart. Billy could see red streaks, as clean as though slashed with a knife, open on the mule's flanks as if by magic. The boy did not dare to climb down low enough to untie the reins—that would have put him within reach of the coydog. If he had only had a knife he might have risked it. One good slash would have set the animal free. But he could not possibly cling to the tree trunk while untying the reins.

He heard excited cries and looked up to see two more of the coydogs come charging in. Where they had been he had no idea, but they joined in the attack. There were only four in the whole litter—the Runt was not with them. He was probably off with Wolf and Blackie and where they were, heaven only knew. The three coydogs joined in the attack, running in trying to hamstring the mule and darting out again to avoid the flailing hooves and the crazily pitching cart. Billy shouted and looked around for some missile, even a dead branch, to throw at the dogs, but there was nothing. He took off his shoes and threw them, but the pack paid no attention to them or to him.

The reins were old and they finally gave way. The mule tore across the field, the cart leaping behind him and the salt blocks flying in every direction. The coydogs rushed in pursuit, two of them stopping briefly to sniff at the blocks before going on again. It was the big coydog who was the most determined. Now that the mule was free of the tree and running, the coydog had a better chance for the deadly hamstring bite just above the hock joint. He rushed in time and again, but each time the spinning wheels of the cart daunted him. Then the chase vanished over a little rise. Billy dropped out of the tree and ran as hard as he could in the opposite direction. He did not dare to get too far from a tree, so he circled back toward Isaac Lapp's farm, keeping to the tree-shaded road rather than cutting across the open fields. He was halfway there when he saw Lapp and his oldest son, both carrying guns, hurrying across a meadow. He shouted to them.

Billy was afraid Lapp would be furious over the loss of the cart and the injured mule, but the farmer's first words were, "Thank heaven you're safe, boy. I thought those wolves had gotten you. What happened?"

Billy told him and the farmer swore. "That's it. We're going to have to get those things for sure this time. They followed old Hank right into the barnyard. I had to shoot one before they'd run."

Lapp's son spoke for the first time. "Hank got one himself. He kicked it and broke its leg. I finished it myself."

"Was it the big one?"

"Naw, he got away."

"How's Hank?"

"My wife's calling the vet right now. He's pretty well torn up. They'd have pulled him down for sure if it hadn't been for the cart. That spooked them some."

Billy said, "You'd better get the stock in the barn. I'll help you."

"You're right, and I'm not letting anything out again until every one of that pack is dead. The warden is going to have to help us. This is an emergency."

There was a meeting that night at Abe Zook's house. Isaac Lapp was there, and Ike Yoder. Jim Stoltzfoos, the warden, had also come. Billy sat in a corner, listening.

"If you were knowing your job, the pups you would have killed already yet," Yoder told the warden. "My Blue you borrowed and you were saying then you knew the den."

Billy wiggled and prepared himself for the denunciation, but the warden only said, "They got away from me."

"How about those traps you set by the swamp?" demanded Lapp. "Maybe the coyote wouldn't go in them but you should have gotten the black dog."

"I did get her but she pulled loose."

Billy looked at the warden and nearly confessed that he had let Blackie go, but he did not have the courage.

"All that is over," said Abe Zook. "More traps can be set. Poison can be put out. Are we trying once with the dogs before that?"

Stoltzfoos asked, "Will they follow the trail of the black dog or the pups? I doubt if hounds will follow the line of another dog."

The men looked at each other. "Blue will follow whatever," said Yoder. "Rock, Buck, I am not saying. But if Blue throws her tongue, they will go with her."

"Spot and Squealer will track those coydogs. They've been after them a couple of times already, but the coyote came in and took them off," said Lapp.

"Summer is not a good time. It is too hot and there is too much underbrush. Yet if we can do it, such hunting will be better than wasting weeks with traps and poison."

"You'll never get the coyote with dogs," said the warden.

"The wolf, no. Yet first we must get the others."

"I'm game to try it," said Lapp.

"With me too, I say yes," added Yoder. "You will bring Wasser?"

Zook nodded. "Wasser I keep near me. The coydogs will fight and Wasser is too old for such things. He will be good to strike the line for the others."

Stoltzfoos said, "We'd better go out tomorrow at daylight. If we don't get them by ten o'clock, we might as well give up. It will be too hot then for the hounds to work."

They all agreed. After the men had left, Billy asked, "Can I come too?"

"Maybe it makes better that you do not," Abe Zook told him.

"I won't get in the way. Wolf and Blackie know me. Maybe I can bring them in without having them killed."

"Boy, you know that cannot be."

"I can try, anyhow."

"You can get yourself killed trying. Ah, well, you come. I promise you this. If I can save the wolf and the black dog, I am doing so. What to do with them then, I am not knowing."

Although it was light by five o'clock, there was a heavy mist over the countryside so dense that Billy could hardly make out the outlines of the barn when he went out to milk the cows. Yoder picked them up and they drove to Lapp's farm where the warden was already waiting for them. Lapp had Spot and Squealer on leads and his son was with them. All the men had guns.

"I did some telephoning last night after I left you," said the warden. "I wanted to find out if anyone had seen them, especially that big coydog. No one had, but this morning I got a call from Henry Haas. That dog was in his place last night trying to get at his turkeys. Henry has the turkeys penned up and the coydog was jumping against the wire, trying to make turkeys fly out. Henry claims he was the size of a calf. He broke in the door and Henry doesn't know how many turkeys got killed."