As soon as I got out of camp, I started running. I didn't stop until I reached the river. It's more of a stream, really; small, slow, shallow, with only a few fish. But everyone called it a river anyway, because when the Tribes first settled here in the mountains, it was much larger, and was full of salmon every fall, when they came to spawn. Dane says it was so full of fish at times, you could walk across them and not touch water. But then it got really dry for twenty years, and all the smaller streams that fed into it dried up, leaving only the main spring to fill it with water. The salmon couldn't get up the stream very easily, so not as many eggs were laid, and not as many salmon born, so that now only about fifty make it up the the spawning ground each year. Dane says that eventually the smaller streams will start flowing again and it will become a river once more, but I can't imagane it happening. Anyway, I was kneeling down and splashing my face with water when I noticed the track. Five toes, claws, roundish in shape; only one thing makes a track like that that big. A mountain lion. Crap. And of course it was fresh. I looked around carefully, following the trail with my eyes. It ended at a tangle of brush. As slowly as I could, I grabbed my bow and stood up. I was notching my arrow when it emerged. Big, brown, and terrifying, it stalked out, a low growl in its throat. I took aim, but it was to late. It pounced. My arrow flew at empty air, and then it was on top of me, clawing me, roaring. It was all I could do to keep it from delivering a killing bite. I grasped at its neck, keeping it back, but it was strong, stronger than me, and it kept clawing me, hurting me, slashing at my arms, covering me with my own blood... I was getting weaker, and I could barly keep it away. And then I couldnt anymore, and it was coming at my neck...and thats when he came. I don't know where from, but suddenly he was there, on its back, keeping it away. "GO!!!" He shouted. I was able to crawl a few feet away towards my bow. I grabed it and shot an arrow at the creature, my aim perfect even in my lousy condition. It peirced its neck, and the shriek it let out was unearthly. Then it fell to the ground, dead. The boy hopped off, and hurryed over to me. I glimpsed his face, but even then I was fading into darkness. Before I passed out, I heard him say, "Are you ok?" Of course not, I was just attacked by a mountain lion and lost half my blood, idiot, I thought. Of course, by then I was to far gone to say anything. And then the dream started...
