The Healer (6 page)

One matter puzzled Billy, yet he was afraid to mention it. Finally he blurted out, "You call them werewolffen and say you have to keep them off with wolfsbane, but then you say you can run them down with dogs. If they're really werewolffen, how can you do that?"

Abe Zook did not answer at once and went on with such long strides that Billy had to run to keep up with him. After a time he said, "Because an animal is a werewolf is not to say that he cannot be killed. It means there is a power in him that other animals are not having. I am a braucher because there is a power in me to heal by the laying on of hands that other men are lacking, yet I can be killed or followed by dogs."

Billy had the feeling that Abe Zook knew well that the animals were not supernatural but that he preferred to think of them as werewolves. The boy wondered if the old man practiced magic because he believed in it or wanted to believe in it. Perhaps Zook wished so desperately to feel that his mysterious art was true that he had come to live in a pretend world that was real to him, even though he knew it was all a game of make-believe.

The familiar cackling of the guinea fowl sounded as soon as they climbed the fence, and Wasser tore out, barking. They called to him and the dog came bounding to meet them, snuffing at the baskets and jumping on Billy. Grip was pacing up and down before the door, indignant, as it was long past his feeding time. Billy got him a piece of bread and some sausage and after examining both, the raven took the sausage and flew off with it. Thinking he did not want the bread, Billy retrieved the piece and was going back to the house with it when furious cries made him stop. Grip was flying back, the sausage still in his beak. Alighting by the boy's feet, Grip did a war dance of outrage. Then he dropped the sausage, hurriedly dug a hole with his beak, put the meat in it, covered it over, and then marched over to Billy demanding his bread. Billy gave it to him, and Grip was obviously in a quandary whether to take the bread away and hide it or stand guard over his sausage. He finally solved the problem by eating the bread on the spot and then unearthing the sausage and carrying it off to a safer spot.

"You should go and get wood, no?" suggested Abe Zook. "Or is the hand too bad?"

"I can do it," said Billy turning away. He hated to admit that the hand still hurt him, for he felt that the injury was the result of his own stupidity.

"On the way, look for rats in the trap under the corncrib," Abe Zook called after him.

"I thought you poisoned rats."

"Not when I have an owl to feed. If he ate a poisoned rat, he would die too."

Billy found the trap. It was a small barrel with tin nailed around the inside, sunk into the ground. A light board hung over the edge with bait fastened to the end. When a rat crept along the board, it tilted so the rat fell into the barrel and then, with the weight gone, the board swung back into place. There were three rats in the barrel, but Billy did not know how to get them out without being bitten. He got his armful of wood and reported to Abe Zook.

"You tail them. Come, I show you." The old man got an old milk can and they went to the trap. With surprising dexterity, Zook grabbed the rats by the tails, one after another, and dropped them in the can, quickly replacing the lid. They then went to the shed where the owl, seeing them coming, bent over, clicking and hissing. Zook opened the door and tossed in a rat. Before it struck the floor, the owl was on it. Billy gasped at the big bird's speed. The rat turned over once in the iron grip and tried to bite, but the same grip that had paralyzed Billy's arm made him numb. The owl seized him by the neck with its hooked beak and finished him.

"If you are worried, the rat felt very little. The talons numb the pain."

"Yes, I know," said Billy staring, entranced, and yet horrified. It was the first time he had seen any living thing killed.

"More later, I will give him the rest," said Zook, putting the can in the shed and closing the door.

"Do the rats know what's going to happen to them?"

"Do you wish the owl to eat?"

"Can't he eat regular meat? I'd let him have some of my supper."

"No, he must have fur or feathers. He will spit the fur up in the form of a little ball and that keeps his crop clean. Besides something must keep the rats down or they would take over the barn. Why not let the wild creatures do it?"

Billy said nothing. For a wild owl to catch rats seemed all right, but to catch them and then feed them to an owl was somehow cruel. It was all very confusing.

Abe Zook led him to a high, rectangular structure near the shed and lifted out a front panel. Inside braces had been nailed to the walls to support a dozen thin trays. At the bottom of the structure was a small cast-iron stove.

"Start a fire in the stove while I lay out the herbs," said Zook. Billy was unaccustomed to starting fires, so after the old man had spread the herbs out on the trays, he had to make the fire himself. Then the trays were slid back into the structure and the panel replaced. Abe Zook carefully checked the drafts before he was satisfied.

"Tomorrow the herbs are dry for packing," he explained. "Now the chores we do."

The chores consisted of milking the cows, feeding the horse, and driving the sheep into the sheepfold with Wasser's help. It was growing dark when they had finished, and the chickens had begun to go to roost. Grip had already disappeared. As they headed back to the house, a dilapidated car pulled into the lane and Wasser rushed toward it, baying furiously.

"Make fast with your barking," called Abe Zook irritably. The car stopped and a lean man swung himself out. Like Abe Zook, he wore a flat, black hat with a wide brim, but he had no beard. The two men greeted each other, and then the stranger saw Billy.

"An auslander!" he said, surprised.

"Ach, a boy he is only. Come in, have a sitz."

They entered the cabin and Billy settled back on one of the benches by the fire to listen.

"I have much trouble," said the lean man, as he folded himself into a chair like a foot rule closing.

"By some people the trouble comes," agreed Abe Zook, sitting down on a box. "But all have got somewhat."

"Three sheep them dogs killed last night."

"I heard. But one is not a dog. He is a wolf. He leads the other on."

"This makes eight sheep they have killed this year, and many chickens. I have sat up for them with a gun but then they never come. We must run them down with dogs."

Abe Zook considered. "You left out the dead sheep?"

The other nodded. "Good. Perhaps they eat tonight. What dogs will you take?"

"All my three. Isaac Lapp is coming with his two. You will bring Wasser?"

"Wasser I'm bringing. Tomorrow before it makes light we go to where the dead sheep are. If the wolf and the dog who runs with him have come during the night to eat, we should be able to take them."

Billy could contain himself no longer. "Can I come?"

Both men started at the shrill voice. "Why no?" said Abe Zook. Then to his friend, "He is from the city and does not know our ways too well, but he is a good boy. Today he dug roots with me."

The lean man rose. "With you it is." He looked at Billy without any great enthusiasm. "One hour before sunup I come for you."

When he left, Billy was jumping with excitement. This did not seem like trapping or shooting, and he wanted to see what Wasser would do. Abe Zook explained to him how the hunt would be conducted. Everything depended on the killers coming back to their prey. Then the scent would be fresh and the dogs could be put on it at first light. He described the hounds as individuals, their strengths and weaknesses. Ike's Blue was the most reliable and had the best nose but was getting on in years. His Rock was fast and determined but lacked experience. "When a hound is old enough to really know hunting, then he is too old to hunt," said Zook wistfully. Buck was a good fighting dog and had brought bears to bay, but on the trail he was of little help. Isaac Lapp's Spot was good as long as he did not run trash—turn off on a fox or deer line. Squealer's only real attribute was his penetrating voice. "Without, a dog who will tongue the trace hard, the pack you will lose." The greatest problem, granted they found a hot scent, was that none of the pack was used to hunting such quarry. "This is where Wasser will be the best. He knows the scent and hates the wolf. To help him, I make a charm."

From a jar fat was produced, from an old boar raccoon who had fought off a pack of five dogs before the hunters could dispatch him. To this was added hair from the head of Jack Fasig, for many years the terror of the area, who had stood six feet four, weighed 260 pounds, and could pick up two 100-pound bags of flour under each arm. There was blood from a famous fighting cock and the tooth of a wildcat. To these was added part of a mandrake root, some of the precious ginseng, and wolfsbane. They were wrapped in a piece of paper and on it Abe Zook wrote, "Whoever has this letter shall not fail nor be defeated by an enemy."

"Tomorrow I will tie this around Wasser's neck," Abe Zook explained. "Now get ready to sleep. Tomorrow is a long day. First, I will put a fresh poultice on the hand."

Billy was tired; but now that he was able to go to bed, he twisted for what seemed hours before he finally dozed off. Once asleep, he slept so heavily that Zook had to shake him awake the next morning. Ike Yoder had come, and dimly he heard the two men moving about until Zook's reproving "The fire you should be making, no?" forced him to get up. Breakfast was a huge meal with Schnitz und Knepp—dumplings and apples—corn fritters, and molasses pie contributed by Yoder, whose wife was a famous cook. It needed only to be reheated.

The boy was still eating when the men finished. Abe Zook loaded his gun and then said somewhat irritably, "Ain't you ready yet? Come, eat yourself full." Billy bolted down the rest of his pie and joined them, although he was sorry to see the gun. The sky was milky in the east but the farmyard was still dark as a puddle of spilt ink. They clambered into the car and started off, with Billy and Wasser in the back seat, huddled together for warmth.

They stopped once at a small house by the side of the road to pick up Isaac Lapp and his two dogs. Isaac was a big, noisy man, who enjoyed asking Billy a series of riddles such as, "What kind of stones are found in a stream?" the answer being "Wet ones." By the time they reached the Yoder farm, it was light enough to turn off the car's headlights.

Ike went to the barn and returned with the three hounds: a bluetick, a long-legged Plott, and an eager young Walker. Wasser and Lapp's hounds jumped down from the car to greet them. Obviously all the dogs knew each other and after a brief exchange of sniffs they scattered through the wet grass, looking for rabbit tracks. The men brought them back with shouted orders and started across the pasture.

"The scent should be good—the old ladies are airing their nightcaps, eh boy?" said Lapp. He pointed to the dew-covered spider webs gleaming like lace on the grass in the thin light. Yoder said glumly, "Like falling weather it looks."

"Ah, the rain will hold off until evening," replied Lapp, glancing up. It was a day of steel sky, forbidding without being actually threatening. Billy, abashed by the presence of the two other men, plodded along silently. The cold air hurt his lungs, and jets of smoke sprang from his mouth at each step. He saw Wasser casting around with the charm tied to his neck and called to him. The hound ran over but Abe Zook sent him back. "He must stay with the others," he told Billy. "Today he must work, not play."

They came to the angle of the fence where the bodies of the sheep lay piled together, wedged into the wire. They had been trapped here by their pursuers and savaged in the frenzy of the hunt. Lapp knelt by the torn forms and pointed to bloody wounds. "Well, they was back last night. These marks are fresh, ain't they?"

"Fresh they are," said Ike Yoder joining him. "A lantern we want yet. Tracks there are maybe."

Lapp struck a match while the hounds ran up to sniff the dead animals. "Can't see nothing," he complained. "Wait a minute. Maybe this is a track." One of the hounds ran over and buried his nose in the mark. "Look, dog, how can I see if you've got your nose in it?" He cuffed the hound away and struck another match. "Hey, Zook, take a look at this."

The old man moved over with long strides, and after one look, called Billy to him. "See the footprint," he told the boy. "Longer than a dog's and the mark of the side toe is larger."

"Uh-huh," agreed Billy, although he could hardly make out the impression. Lapp lighted another match and showed him one of the hound's prints.

"See the difference?"

"Is that the werewolf?" the boy asked.

Lapp laughed and tossed the match on the ground. "That old powwow man's been filling you with a lot of talk, boy. Well, it ain't no dog's track, I'll tell you that. But it ain't no wolf. I'd say it's a coyote. Sometimes they come in from the West."

"What is a coyote but a small wolf?" said Abe Zook quietly. "Two—three times before such an animal has come, but only when an evil braucher dies."

"I'll bet I know where this one came from." Lapp straightened up. "There's a regiment of soldiers up at Indian Town Gap who had their basic training out West. Some of them got coyote pups as pets and brought them along with them. This one got away and went wild again."

"The dogs put on," said Ike Yoder impatiently.

"First we had better try Wasser," added Abe Zook.

No one objected and he called over the hound, who ran to him, eager but puzzled. "Sic, boy, sic!" said Abe, patting the ground by the pad mark. Wasser cast about enthusiastically, but Blue, who had been watching and now came over, was the first to give tongue. At once the rest of the improvised pack hurried to the spot.

The men shouted and Ike cried, "To Blue go!" The pack ran to the wise old hound, but sniffed uncertainly until Wasser arrived. Instantly recognizing the scent, Wasser gave tongue and the rest joined in.

Billy expected to see the pack take right off and was disappointed to have them swirl about like blown leaves, baying as they hit the line but then losing it again. The scent was not strong by the fence, for it was partially obliterated by sheep tracks, and the hounds were uncertain how the quarry had run. Blue was trying to work it out step by step, with Wasser helping him, while the others ran about more or less at random, yelping when they struck a trace of odor but making no attempt to follow it. Abe Zook and Ike Yoder stood quietly, letting them work it out, but Isaac Lapp kept up a series of shouts to encourage his two dogs.