“I know they’ll appreciate that, ma’am.”
Caroline pulled Charlie up out of the grass and started to make her way back to the house. She gave the smoldering shed a wide berth.
“Engine should be here in twenty minutes,” the chief told Ben.
“That long?” He watched the shape of Caroline diminish as she trudged for the house.
“Things are far apart up here. They take longer to happen, especially if you’re in a spot like this—a place in between places.”
A place in between places described it well, Ben thought. He wondered if the Swanns had ever thought like that when they first settled the Drop. He wondered if they also sometimes woke up in the dark of night forgetting where they were and why they had come here.
“I’m so sorry that this is so much trouble,” Ben said. The sky above the mountains was heavy with smoke. He saw more cars from the village heading up the drive. This was the most exciting thing to happen in Swannhaven in a long time.
“These things happen. Likely just an accident. But we’ll poke around tomorrow to be sure.”
Ben nodded. “You should know that this isn’t the first strange thing to happen to us up here.” He wanted to believe that the fire happened precisely the way the chief guessed, but he couldn’t take the chance that there was something more to it. He told the chief about the eviscerated deer.
“Maybe coyotes,” the chief said.
“Then its head showed up on my doorstep that night.”
The chief nodded. “A prank. I can talk to the boys. Even with all the trouble with the cows, there isn’t enough to do around here.”
But when Ben told him about the pit in the north woods, the chief’s eyes widened.
“A lot of carcasses?” he asked.
“At least five deer and dozens of smaller animals.”
“The boys might be poaching,” the chief said. “If they have blinds nearby, they might skin and butcher their kills in the woods and throw the rest into the ravine. Never an excuse for trespassing, though. And not safe for your little ones. Yep, I’ll have a long talk with them, Mr. Tierney.”
“Thanks, Chief.” It had been a relief to talk to him about it. “Please call me Ben. And my wife doesn’t know anything about any of this, so if we could keep it between us…I don’t want to frighten her if it’s just some guys blowing off steam in the forest, you know?”
“Misleading the womenfolk. Ugly business, but sometimes necessary. You don’t have to worry.” Chief Stanton smiled and put a hand on Ben’s shoulder. Ben turned back to the Crofts. He hoped to glimpse Caroline and the boys making their way home, but he couldn’t see them through the haze.
When he turned back to the chief, he saw that the older man’s eyes had strayed to mountains. His hand remained on Ben’s shoulder, but the smile had fallen from his face.
December 10, 1777
Dearest Kathy,
Jack is gone, and I do not know what to do.
He stood the watch at the edge of the south woods with Stephen Harp and William Lowell. The men fear the south watch and most draw lots for it, but it did not bother Jack to go. After midnight they heard a high-pitched chattering noise from the wood. You know how the sounds from the trees play tricks in the cold empty spaces here, but they say that this noise was of a different quality. At first it sounded near, and they moved beyond the tree line to observe its origins. William Lowell said that they walked into the wood, listened to ascertain the direction of the sound, and then walked a bit farther, then listened again.
Lowell does not know how long they went on like that, but they soon found themselves lured beyond the edge of the Drop. And when they dared not go any farther, a hint of smoke and meat tempted their noses. We have eaten nothing but small measures of wheat flour for some days now, and I know well the craving of which Lowell spoke. My mouth waters at the thought of it.
It was then that they came upon a clearing with the embers of a fire still smoldering. It had been an Iroquois encampment, but the Indians were dead. They counted the remains of five. Our men searched the camp, suddenly so hungry for meat that they could scarce think of anything else.
The site stank of food, but they could not find the source. Only then did they examine the bodies of the Indians, thinking that one may have fallen into the fire. The corpses were torn apart, with ragged pieces ripped from the legs and chest. Lowell believed it to be the work of wolves. It is the hungry season, and all creatures are emboldened by necessity. Upon looking at a body, Jack cried out. By some miracle, one of the Iroquois still clung to life. The man’s lips were stained with blood, but he tried to speak, his eyes rolling to their whites. The men clustered around him.
Lowell’s account becomes confused here. He said that Jack bent down to listen to the man’s last words, and the Iroquois bit deep into his forearm. Startled by the attack, Harp fled into the woods. Lowell struck the Indian with the butt of his musket, and Jack was able to tear himself free. Then the Iroquois faced Lowell and bit his leg. I have seen the wound. With his uninjured arm, Jack threw the creature off Lowell, and it turned upon him. Lowell says the Indian tore out our dear Jack’s throat with its teeth, and when that happened, Lowell ran, following the noise of Harp’s escape from the woods.