dangers.
âBack out of here, Quinn,â Trace said. âSlowly . . . and Iâll cover you.â
âNo, Iâm staying right here with you, Trace.â
The bearâs growl prowled through the morning quiet and reached out for the Kerrigan brothers like a grasping hand. Trace looked wildly around him. Where was the damned animal? âQuinn!â he yelled. âItâs you he wants. Back away like I told you.â
The roar of Quinnâs rifle was an emphatic no!
âWhere is he?â Trace yelled. âDid you get him?â
âUp there, beside the fallen tree!â
âI donât see him!â
Quinn fired again. âI saw him! I saw him!â he yelled. âLook! Heâs there by the tree, standing on his hind legs!â
Trace looked and saw nothing but shadow. He stepped to his brother, grabbed him by the arm, and yelled, âWeâre getting out of here!â
âDid I hit him? Did you see him?â
âNo. You were shooting at a shadow.â Trace pulled Quinn by the arm. âLetâs go.â
The bear seemed to come out of nowhere.
Trace turned at the last second and took the full brunt of the animalâs charge. The bear slammed into him with the force of a runaway brewery horse and Trace fell on his back, all the wind knocked out of him. Turning on a dime, the bear changed direction and went for Quinn, its slavering, fanged mouth wide open.
Boom!
The sound of a large-caliber weapon hammered across the aborning day. Startled, but not hit, the bear broke off the attack and vanished into the trees.
Moses Rice, his smoking dragoon in his hand, raised the big revolver for another shot, but lowered it again. âThat bear is in the next county by now.â His ebony face concerned, he looked at each boy carefully. âEither of you boys hurt?â
âOnly our pride, Mose,â Trace said, picking himself up off the ground.
Quinnâs face was ashen, his Henry clutched tightly in his hands. âFor a minute there, I thought I was dead.â
âDonât play around with bears, no,â Moses said. âLook what happened to Mr. Cobb, lying all tore up anâ hurtinâ in Miz Kerriganâs best bed.â
âMose, it was the same bear,â Quinn said. âHe followed us home.â
âLot of black bears in West Texas,â Moses said.
Quinn shook his head. âNot like this one.â
âDid you tell your Ma?â Moses asked.
âNo. I didnât want to worry her,â Quinn said.
âDonât worry Miz Kerrigan, no,â Moses said. âSheâs got enough worries right now. You boys wait here.â
Moses followed the path the bear had taken and was soon lost among the trees. He was gone for thirty minutes and when he returned his face was solemn. âWe leave the bear alone.â
Trace agreed. âHell, thatâs fine by me.â
âNo,â Quinn said. âHe took us by surprise this time, but weâll kill him next time.â
âLet the bear be!â
It was the first time Trace and Quinn had ever heard Moses raise his voice.
The Kerrigan boys walked back the cabin in silence, but Mosesâs lips moved as though in prayer. When Trace listened closely, he realized the old black man was speaking in a tongue he did not understand. His was a prayer in the old language, a slave benediction that had its beginning hundreds of years before in the darkest reaches of Africa.
C HAPTER S EVENTEEN
September came and went, and the bear sign became less evident. Trace and Quinn figured the animal had given up and was probably holed up in a hollow log somewhere to sleep away the winter.
Frank Cobb, as tough a man as the West had ever produced, was up and about and showed little lasting effects from his close brush with death. Moses was strangely withdrawn, and took to walking the surrounding hills and forests with his Coltâs Dragoon stuck in his