Sowing on the Mountain

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She'd been too tired to make camp and had shambled back to the Opening in the dark arriving about ten. She woke up stiff and cranky, and let Gris out. Then she thought about the poison and stepped out to watch him sniff trees and poop, and brought him inside. If there was a crazy trying to poison dogs, she'd have to be careful. He had an unerring nose for anything resembling food and would run and bolt it before she could take it away. She'd pried open his jaws and extracted some nasty messes.

The accident in the Cirque didn't affect her the way she thought it might, haunting her dreams. It was remote, heard on the radio, seen through binoculars. She was glad she hadn't seen the dead woman. Lightning did bad things to a human body, like a hot dog dropped on the coals.

She made coffee and tried calling Harv, but he didn't answer. Probably hadn't turned on his radio yet. They were supposed to keep them turned on during work hours, and while an emergency was in progress, but a lot of people got annoyed at the hiss and the static, and turned them off.

The rescue had thrown her off balance. She was supposed to have a layover day and hadn't taken one, so she got back in the bunk with her coffee, to read for a while. Gris dove under her bed and curled up on his blanket with a sigh. She was dozing off when there was a knock.

"Shit!" Gris scramble out barking. She looked at the glass panes of the door and Harv was peering in at her in panties and sweatshirt. He started and turned around, like he hadn't seen anything.

She pulled on sweatpants and opened the door. "What's up?"

"About the poison thing. Didn't want to call on the radio."

"Come in. Want some coffee?

"Sure." He sat down and waited while she poured a mug and handed it to him. "Anyhow, after that dog went down, I rode west of the Lodge, in circles, and found a whole bunch of dead critters: coyotes, badgers, foxes, a golden eagle. I stuffed 'em in a trash bag and took 'em to town to give to Headley. He said to wear gloves when I touched any caracasses. So he gave me some." He handed over a couple pairs of rubber gloves. "I dropped some off at the Lodge. That Zack is pretty torn up over his dog."

"I would be."

"Headley acted funny when I said we should find out who did it and make sure they got locked up, asap. He said to keep my eye out for more carcasses and mark the locations on a topo map, but not to question anyone or that sort of thing. We're supposed to have a meeting with Boswick when our hitch is done, before we sign out. He also said that Carricaburra lost two of those big guard dogs, Great Pyrenees, and four or five border collies, over on the Muddy."

"The head of Muddy Canyon?"

"Right. They've got a wagon camp there above the elk feedground."