J. JANCE - Hour of the Hunter

“Come here, little doggie,” he whispered under his breath. “Nice little doggie. Come and get it.”

This time, the dog made no sound at all. He simply leapt over the wall and came crashing up the embankment.

Carlisle waited until the last possible moment before making his dash for safety. He had spread the meat over a wide segment of the roadway so the dog would be sure to find it. Now, he ran straight through the meat to his car so the dog-Bone was a funny name for a dog-following his scent, would be led directly to the poison.

Carlisle jumped into his Matador and drove away, hoping against hope that his plan had worked.

After that, I’itoi struck the water with his stick. The bank broke, and the water from the lake and from all the oceans ran together. And then I’itoi, who can make himself either very large or very small, climbed into the basket he had made, and Ban, Coyote, climbed into his hollow cane, and the waters began to rise.

Soon the waters rose high enough to wash them away. I’itoi told Ban to follow him to the west, but Coyote did not listen, and the waters continued to rise. Soon all the villages on the flat were covered with water and the people drowned.

The people who lived near Giwho Tho’ag, Burden Basket Mountain, saw the water coming. They hurried to the highest part of the mountain, thinking they would be safe, but as the water came up, the mountain split in two, and all the people were drowned.

In another part of the valley, a very powerful medicine man led his people up to the highest mountain and told them that there they would be safe. As the water rose, the medicine man sang a powerful song, and the mountain rose higher and higher. The water rose and fell, rose and fell until it had risen and fallen four times.

Then the Indians on the mountain were happy, because everything in nature goes by fours, and they thought that now they would be safe. The medicine man said that there would be a great feast and the people began to get ready-some cooking, some grinding corn.

Now it happens that the people had with them on the mountain only one gogs, one dog. The people sent Dog down the mountain to see how high the water was. Dog went to the edge of the mountain, and then he stretched himself and came back. “The water is going down,” Dog said. “It will not rise again.”

And right then, at that very moment, as Dog spoke, all the people on the mountain were turned to stone. They changed to stone just as they were when Dog spoke-some cooking, some eating, and some grinding corn. If you go to the place called Superstition Mountain, you can see them to this day.

And that is why, nawoj, my friend, you must never permit a dog to speak to you, for if you do, you may be turned to stone.

Davy and Father John were talking quietly at the kitchen table; Rita had returned to her room. After cleaning the kitchen, Diana had barely started reading the newspaper in the living room when the dog whined and scratched at the front door.

“How did Bone get back out front?” Diana asked irritably as she hurried to let him in. She was worried that he might make a dash for the kitchen and scare Father John. Instead, the dog plodded in slowly, shambled past her without even looking up, and walked directly into the opposite wall with a resounding thump.

“Oh’o,” she said, alarmed, “what’s the matter with you?”

Bone stood splayfooted, long tail tucked between his legs, head down. He swayed drunkenly. Davy, hearing the concern in Diana’s voice, called from the kitchen. “Mom, what is it?”

“I don’t know. Something’s wrong with Bone. I let him inside, and he walked straight into the wall.”

Davy hurried into the room followed by a still-apprehensive Father John. The dog, who had once seemed so ferocious, now showed absolutely no interest in attacking the priest. Instead, he put one tentative foot in front of the other and tried to walk, only to fall down flat on his belly.

“That dog’s been poisoned!” Father John announced decisively. “I’ve seen it before. We’ve got to get him to a vet.”

“Poisoned?” Diana repeated. “How can that be?”

“Look at him. I had a dog die of poisoning once. He came inside acting just like this. The vet said that if I’d brought him in right away, he might have saved him. There’s no time to lose.”

Uncertain what to do, Diana glanced at her watch. A quarter to six. The vet’s office would close in fifteen minutes. Rita reappeared just then. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

“It’s Oh’o. Father John thinks he’s been poisoned. We’d better load him in the car. Davy, Rita, come on. We’ll all go.”

Rita shook her head. “Fat Crack will be here soon. You go on. If we all go, Davy and I will just be in the way. We’ll wait here. I’ll call Dr. Johnston and tell him you’re coming.”

On the floor between them, Bone’s body shook convulsively. One look at the suffering animal convinced her. “All right,” Diana said. “You stay here.”

Diana knelt beside the quaking dog. “Bone, come,” she ordered. With a whimper, the dog tried valiantly to get up, only to stumble and collapse once more. Diana attempted to pick him up by herself, but he was well over one hundred pounds of dog, far more than she could lift or carry.

“Father John, would you help me load him into the car?”

“Of course.”

Lifting together, they raised Bone off the floor and carried him outside. “My car’s out back,” Diana said, heading that way.

“No,” Father John corrected. “We’ll take mine. It’s closer.”

They reached the car and eased the stricken animal onto the backseat. As Diana straightened up, she found that Davy had followed them and was starting to climb into the car with Bone. Diana stopped him. “You stay here with Rita,” she ordered. “If she has to leave before I get back, you can go along with her.”

Davy, close to tears, barely heard her. “Is Oh’o going to die?” he asked.

“I hope not, but I don’t know,” Diana answered grimly. She climbed into the car and closed the door behind her while the priest started the engine. Before driving out of the yard, Father John stopped the car beside the distressed child and rolled down his window.

“Remember how we were talking about prayer a while ago?” the priest asked. Davy nodded. “Would you like me to pray for Bone?”

The boy’s eyes filled with tears. “Yes, please,” he whispered.

“Heavenly Father,” the priest said, bowing his head. “We pray that you will grant the blessing of healing to your servant, Bone, that he may return safely to his home. We ask this in the name of the Father, of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.”

“Does that mean he’ll be all right now?”

Father John shook his head gravely. “When God answers prayers, He can say either yes or no. Right now, it’s too soon to tell. You keep on praying while we take him to the vet, okay?”

“Okay,” Davy said, his voice quavering. “I will.”

Andrew saw the priest and the woman drive away in a hurry. The dog was with them in the car. They were probably taking the mutt to a vet. Maybe it would work, but he doubted it. He had put enough slug bait in that hamburger to choke a horse. This was, however, one very large dog.

Carlisle turned back toward the house in smug satisfaction and saw the boy walk dejectedly back into the house. Everything had worked like a charm, just the way he’d planned it. The boy was as good as his. It was stupid of Diana to leave him there alone, but that was her problem. Diana was gone, and the boy was unprotected, and Andrew Carlisle wanted Davy in the very worst way.