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travel light, whatever we can carry in our saddlebags. That okay with you, Dakota?”
    â€œThat’s fine,” she said. “All I usually need is some beef jerky and my guns.”
    â€œAnd some coffee,” Clint said. “Let’s not forget coffee.”
    When they had their saddlebags packed, they mounted their horses in front of the store.
    â€œDid you believe the mayor?” she asked him.
    â€œAbout what?”
    â€œAbout doubling the bounty if we kill the Wendigo.”
    â€œYou didn’t?”
    She blew air out of her mouth.
    â€œFunny,” Clint said, “I thought you believed him.”
    â€œHe’s a man, isn’t he?” she asked.
    â€œThen why hunt?” Clint asked.
    â€œBecause like Fiddler, it’s not about the money,” she said.
    â€œThen why try to make a deal?”
    â€œBecause I know I need money to keep going,” she said.
    â€œDon’t we all?”

TWENTY
    As soon as they cleared town, Clint began to feel something in the air. He had hunted bears, cats, and men in the past, but never a mythical creature. Perhaps bears or cats that had grown to mythical proportions, but never what he considered to actually be a creature of myth.
    And if he really believed it was only a myth, then what was he feeling? Surely there was no danger from a creature that did not exist? But something had torn apart Billy Lawrence. And Jack Fiddler claimed to have already killed Wendigos before—with bullets and magic.
    â€œYou’re quiet,” Dakota said.
    â€œWe’re hunting,” he said. “We’re supposed to be quiet.”
    â€œNot really,” she said. “Right now I’m only interested in what I see on the ground.”
    â€œAnd what’s that?”
    â€œDismount,” she said. “I’ll show you.”
    They dismounted. Clint dropped Eclipse’s reins to the ground. Dakota secured her mount to a nearby bush. That would keep the animal from wandering off, but in case of danger, the horse would be able to pull free.
    â€œOver here,” she said. “See that?”
    Clint looked at the ground.
    â€œSee what?”
    â€œNot the hard ground,” she said, “there.” She pointed to some shrubs that had been tramped down. “We’re in the northern hardwood forest. That chokecherry. See how much of it is mashed down?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œCome over here.”
    She took him to some chokecherry shrubs and said, “Step on that.”
    He did and then stepped back.
    â€œSee how much of it you tramped down? Now compare.”
    He looked back at the original chokecherry she’d shown him.
    â€œAbout twice as much, maybe more.”
    â€œRight,” she said. “Something with a big foot stepped right there.”
    â€œThat was done with one step?” he asked.
    â€œYes.”
    He stared at it.
    â€œA bear?”
    â€œLet me give you a lesson in bears,” she said. “Around here you mostly see black bears. The can grow as large as seven feet in height, and weigh about five hundred pounds. The thing that made that footprint has to be ten feet tall.”
    â€œA bear can’t grow to ten feet?”
    â€œMaybe,” she said. “I’ve never seen a black bear that big. A Kodiak, maybe. I’ve seen ten-foot Kodiaks that weigh up to fifteen hundred pounds, but you don’t see them around here. They pretty much stick to Kodiak island.”
    â€œWhat about a grizzly?”
    â€œThey do grow larger than the other kinds of bears, but you see them mostly from the high plains to the Pacific, not up here. Also, do you know what bears eat?”
    â€œNot people?”
    â€œRight,” she said. “They eat bark and berries—all kinds of fruit—and insects. Not people.”
    â€œOkay,” Clint said, “so it’s not a bear, unless it’s a really strange one.”
    Dakota sighed.
    â€œYou’ve