Hunted Read Free Page B

all the family members were gone, and he would go inside and take bread and cheese to add to his rather meager diet. Mostly he fished and trapped for his food.
    And he would occasionally be sighted by some hunter, running with wolves. The legends grew about this strange young man who lived with wild animals. Bounties were placed on Vlad’s head, but not even the king’s soldiers cared to venture very deep into the dark woods in pursuit of him.
    The average life of a wolf is between seven and nine years, although some live to be fourteen or fifteen years old. As the years rolled by, the older wolves in the pack that had adopted Vlad began to die. Vlad noticed that if death came naturally and there was time for such rituals, the old dying wolf would be left food by others in the pack, in a comfortable place in the woods, and when the dying was complete, they mourned for a time, just like humans.
    When Vlad realized that he was no longer aging, he sensed it was time for him to leave the pack and once more venture out into the human world. He thought he was about twenty-five years old, but he was not certain of that. He joined the pack in a howl, then rolled in play for a time, and touched faces and muzzles; then without another gesture, he walked away, leaving one world behind him, and began his return into the world that had rejected him. He did so with the tears of sadness in his eyes.
    * * *
    Darry knocked on the door of the ranger station just after dawn. He had been watching for the first signs of smoke from the lodge to signal that Rick was up and making breakfast.
    â€œCome on in, Darry,” the ranger said with a smile, for he liked this strange young man. Rick thought he was a few years older than Darry and had mentioned that to him once. To this day he could not understand why Darry had found that comment so amusing. “I thought it was about time for you to come in and get your truck. You running out of supplies?”
    â€œYes. The winter was especially hard. And I need to pick up some dry dog food for Pete and Repeat.”
    â€œSome breakfast?”
    â€œYes. Thank you. That would be nice.”
    Rick broke the eggs on the edge of the cast-iron skillet and said, “Those dogs of yours are hybrids, Darry.”
    â€œYes. I know. Probably abandoned by some fool who didn’t know what he was getting when he got them and didn’t have the patience to learn.”
    â€œThey stay in your cabin, Darry?”
    â€œThey sleep on the floor right beside my bed.” Darry sugared his coffee and took a sip. Just right.
    â€œA wolf in the house,” Rick muttered, laying out strips of bacon on a paper towel. “Aren’t you afraid they’ll turn on you someday?”
    Darry smiled. “No.” His thoughts were flung back centuries to a huge female wolf he had named Shasta, who used to snuggle up close to him during the winter months to help keep her adopted human warm. “I am not afraid of wolves, Rick. No human has to be afraid of wolves, if only he will take the time to understand them.”
    Rick grunted. “You’ll never convince most ranchers and farmers of that.”
    â€œMany of them have legitimate gripes about repopulating the wolf. The wolf is a predator. But the answer to that is simple. And you know what it is.”
    Rick chuckled. “Keep the hunters out of selected areas and let the wolves maintain the balance of nature.”
    â€œAs God intended it to be.”
    â€œSomething tells me you are not a member of the NRA, Darry.” Rick slid the eggs on a plate, added strips of bacon and fried potatoes and set the plate before Darry.
    â€œI’m not a member of anything, Rick. But I am a hunter. Genuine hunters have nothing to fear from men like me.”
    Rick sat down with his own plate of food and said, “How many trophy heads do you have on the walls of your cabin, Darry.”
    Darry smiled, shook his head, and Rick laughed.