15 A Pal Finds a Pal

She sped down, food in her talons, and landed on the floor of the box. Oksi screamed. Sam watched, his fists clenched, his body tense. Frightful tore off a morsel and fed Oksi. "Phew!" Sam let out a long, long breath. IN WHICH A Pal Finds a Pal Oksi was six days old on that eventful day. She was a ball of white fuzz with huge shining eyes rimmed with saffron. Her beak was pale blue. She had two needs: food and Frightful's warm brood patch, and now, at last, she had both. She crawled into her mother's breast feathers and sat quietly. Sam closed down the waterwheel early and carried wood to his stone oven to make a fire. The oven sat a few yards away from his table and the four tree-stump chairs. All were in the umbra of the magnificent hemlock. When the fire was lit, he

wrapped cattail tubers and trout in two large may- apple leaves and placed them in the oven. Then he rested his elbow on the table and scratched his head. The dark-haired man came back to mind. Sam jumped to his feet. "Skri! Bate!" he said out loud. He thought a moment. "It's eyas time. The poachers are at work for that Arabian agent again." Sam remembered how Sean Conklin and he had caught Skri leaving a cave at Beaver Corners last June. With him was the man called Bate and his friend. "That's it; Skri and Bate took the eyases." He sat down again. "But where are they?" While his supper cooked, his mind ran over all the possible answers to his question. "Bate won't be at his home in Altamont—too risky. They all know him." He thought harder. "Seems he goes incognito," he recalled. "He told me he was Leon Long-bridge, and he told Joe Cassini he was a government official. He's got to be someplace where he can act like somebody else and get away with it. Where's that?"

The sun went down, and the troublesome day was over. Alice came up the twilit trail with a basket of sweet wild strawberries from Mrs. Strawberry's field. She sat down on a log stump at the table and decapped one. "I have a dog," she said, handing Sam the strawberry. "A dog?" said Sam, popping it into his mouth, then poking a stick into the trout to test its doneness. "I thought you were a pig girl." "Pigs are best," said Alice, "but this dog is special." "Where did you get him?" "Remember Hanni?" Sam blushed and smiled. "Of course I remember Hanni. What about Hanni?" "Well, she and Hendrik found this dog over near the Helderberg Escarpment and took him home. He was so terrified of people he chewed his leash and got away. Last week when Hanni was visiting the John Burroughs lodge, she found him again."

"What was he doing at the John Burroughs lodge?" "Denning under it and living off the land, like he does." "Smart dog." Sam smiled. "I like his spirit." "Except there were two Park Service rangers there who were trying to shoot him for catching game. That's dumb." "Maybe. What happened?" "Hanni told them the dog was hers and took him home again." "She and Hendrik brought him to me. Hanni thought I could bring the love of people to him, like I did to Crystal, my pig." Alice smiled. "The dog's adorable—a yellow cur with long ears; big, sad eyes—and the best rabbit chaser I've ever seen." "What's his name?" "Hendrik and Hanni named him General, but their aunt and uncle said the people they bought the farm from called him Mole. He lived in a culvert. I like the name Mole." "So do I. And where is Mole?"

"Down at the farm with Mrs. Strawberry. I'm going back. I just want to get some rawhide from you to make him a special collar. I want to braid it into a tough band so he can't get loose." "Sure he won't eat it?" "He can't reach it, silly," Alice said. "Alice," Sam said, taking his supper out of the oven, "did you say Hanni talked to two rangers at the John Burroughs house?" "Yes; you know, the Park Service owns it." "But the Park Service doesn't own it. It is owned by descendants of the John Burroughs family. There're no rangers on duty there. Bando and I camped there when we were looking for you last spring." "Well, whatever—two men were going to shoot him." Sam shared his meal with Alice. The trout was tender, but the cattail tubers were tough. When they had finished their meal with the delicious strawberries, Sam got deer hide from the mill house and cut off long strips for Alice.

"Thanks," Alice said, and put them into her pocket. "I'm off now, to bring love to Mole." Sam was out of bed early the next morning. Barefoot and lacing up his deerskin shirt as he stepped outside, he looked over the pond into Frightful's nest box. He had placed it so that the opening faced him. Frightful was far back in the corner, mothering. Although all seemed well, it was not. There was no tiercel. Sam would have to bring food to Frightful until 426 came back. The eyas was still too young for Frightful to leave her and hunt. While Sam cooked cornmeal mush for breakfast, Frightful came to the front of the box and scanned the skies, looking for 426. Oksi was screaming to be fed. The air was chilly. She called for her mate. He did not answer. Around noon, when the air had warmed, Frightful gave the little eyas the last bites of the rat. Then she sat down and brooded her. Sam whistled that he had food for her, but she did not fly to him. Oksi was shivering. She needed her mother's warmth.