Gloria Skurzynski - Mysteries in Our National Parks - Wolf Stalker - A Mystery in Yellowstone National Park

Taking their time, people returned to their cars. Doors slammed and motors revved up as the caravans started out once more, now that the unexpected bison appearance had ended. When the Landon jeep finally got moving again, they’d lost close to 15 minutes. Olivia began to chew her fingertip.

“What time were you supposed to meet Mike?” Jack asked.

“Around noon. But I can’t get him to answer his phone, and it’s already almost two o’clock. I’ve left my cell phone number on his machine four times already! The problem is he never told me where we were supposed to meet him—he just said to phone him when we got close. This is so frustrating!”

“Look, he knows we’re coming, and you’ve done everything you can. I think the best plan is to go to the wolf office like you suggested,” Steven said.

“Where’s that?” Ashley wanted to know.

“Close to Mammoth Hot Springs. Just down a side road.”

“I love that place!” Ashley exclaimed. “Can I show Mammoth Hot Springs to Troy? Wait till you see it, Troy. It’s like a great big layer cake with lots of different colored icing.”

Why bother, Jack thought. Even though Troy had never before been to Yellowstone because he’d lived in Wyoming for only a couple of months, he seemed totally bored by everything they’d seen so far. When he condescended to look at anything, it was with expressionless eyes, through half-lowered lids.

“Sorry, Ashley,” Steven began, “I don’t think we can fit that in right now. Your mother has to handle the wolf crisis—”

“Oh, go ahead and take them,” Olivia interrupted. “I’m a little tense over this whole thing, Steven. It really might be better to just drop me off at the wolf office while the rest of you take a quick look at Mammoth Hot Springs. I’ll try to get all the details before you come back for me—like, where’s Mike, and what’s happening with those demonstrators!”

Within the next half hour, Steven took Olivia to the wolf restoration office, parked the car near Mammoth Hot Springs, and shepherded his own two kids and a reluctant Troy along the boardwalk.

Water didn’t shoot up into the air in Mammoth Hot Springs. It flowed up or brimmed over from cracks in the surface. On the flat topmost terrace, which seemed wide enough to make a table for all the gods and giants of Olympus, steam rose in gentle wisps. Since each day two tons of water-dissolved minerals bubbled up and got deposited on the crust, Mammoth Hot Springs looked different in shape and color every time Jack saw it.

Ashley stood next to Troy at the railing and said, “See how the water comes up? It’s full of—what do you call it, Dad? I never remember.”

Before Steven could answer, Jack did. He had decided he should teach Troy a fact or two about the natural wonders of Yellowstone, especially since Troy was from the city and wouldn’t know anything about hot springs. Loudly enough that the tourists around him could hear, too, he announced, “It’s calcium carbonate, Ashley. That’s what the water’s full of—calcium carbonate.”

“From limestone,” Troy said.

Jack looked at him in disbelief. Who’d have thought Troy would know that? “Not really,” Jack said stiffly, still talking loud. “The carbonate dissolves out from the calcium when it gets on the surface. What’s left—that’s the stuff that builds up these terraces—is called travertine.”

“Yeah, but it starts out from limestone and limestone’s white,” Troy said, “so how come some of the rocks look pink and green and orange?”

“What a great question, Troy,” Steven exclaimed, making Jack want to grind his teeth. “The colors come from different kinds of bacteria and algae that have adapted to survive in really hot water. I have some books about it at home—when we get back, we can look it up. But now we better drive back and get Olivia before we get into hot water. She’s probably waiting for us.”

At the wolf office building, Olivia was sitting on the front steps, her crossed arms leaning against her knees. When she saw them she cried, “Don’t get out. Don’t even stop the car—we have to leave right away and meet Mike.”

As she reached to open the jeep’s front door, Troy leaped out of the back.

“I’m not going,” he said.

Jack groaned. Why did Troy have to be so difficult?

“What’s wrong, Troy?” Ashley asked.

“What about my mom? I want to find out if the police have heard anything.

Steven cleared his throat. “That’s reasonable, Troy. I’ll run inside and use their phone, but maybe I’ll call Social Services instead of the police. They’ll know what’s happening.”

“Why can’t you use Olivia’s phone?”

“Because it won’t reach that far. I’ve tried to call Jackson Hole on the wireless cell phone, but all these mountains around here cause interference. The signal gets blocked. So I need to use a regular phone, with wires. Okay?”

Troy nodded, and watched as Steven climbed the few steps into the relocation office. Olivia started to explain to the kids that Mike had already gone ahead, and they were to meet him at Slough Creek.

“I’m tired of riding in the tailgate, Mom,” Ashley complained. “How far is it to Stew Creek?”

“Not Stew Creek,” Olivia corrected her. “Slough Creek. It’s spelled S-L-O-U-G-H, but it’s pronounced like ‘he slew the dragon.’ And we’ll be there in less than half an hour.”

His eyes trained on the building in front of him, Troy twisted an end of his T-shirt into a thin rope. When he let it go, it fell into a mass of wrinkles. Finally, the screen door swung open and Steven clattered down the steps, shaking his head. “No news,” he said. “I’m sorry, Troy.”

Quietly, they took their places back inside the jeep. During the half-hour drive to Slough Creek, they kept their voices low—that is, the Landons did. Troy didn’t talk at all. “I did get some more information about the dog’s death,” Olivia told them. “They know wolves were in the area where the dog was supposed to have been killed. But they lost contact with one of the wolves, a young male. His radio collar stopped transmitting. He could have wiggled out of it, or the batteries might have failed, or—”

“Maybe he got killed, too,” Jack said.

“Mmmm, that wouldn’t be why the collar stopped transmitting. When a wolf doesn’t move for four hours, the radio collar goes into what’s called ‘mortality mode’—it gives off a really rapid signal. This wolf’s collar just stopped working, period. The whole thing’s kind of mysterious.”

The Landons discussed the possibilities, but Troy didn’t speak or move. He just sat with his hand over his eyes. Jack wondered if maybe he was crying about his mother. But no, a tough kid like Troy would never cry.

After they turned off the highway, they drove a few more miles down a dirt road to a parking lot in the middle of nowhere. A very odd place for a parking lot, Jack thought. But several campers and vans stood there, so people must have left their vehicles behind while they hiked the trails.

“This time everybody can get out and stay out,” Olivia said. “Because there’s Mike, waiting for us.”

A man came toward them.

The first thing Jack noticed was the man’s cap, decorated with a logo of a wolf and the words Project Wolfstock, Yellowstone—definitely not part of the regulation Park Service uniform, but cool.

The second thing Jack noticed was Mike’s expression. He looked very surprised to see all of them. “What’s with the kids?” he asked.

It was Olivia’s turn to look surprised. “Didn’t you get my messages? I called and left several voice messages on your answering machine—that we were bringing our own two kids and an extra one.”