from the blue Saltillo cups, and cleanedrnup afterward, packing in the stove againrnand stow ing the pans, pots, and plates tornclear the deck in case of emergency.rnThen Dick plugged the microphone intornthe tape recorder and pointed it towardrnthe forest. Finally, we settled under ourrnunzipped sleeping bags with the BionicrnEar and the night vision close at hand.rn”I don’t expect anything the firstrnnight,” Dick said. “I ,et’s just forget aboutrna watch, shall we?”rn”Suits me,” I told him. “I’ve seen allrnthe primates I want to for one daw an-rnwav.”rnWc slept soundk’ and awoke togetherrnat first light, tucking the bags around usrnfor warmth.rn”Do you hear it?” I asked, proppingrnsuddenly on one elbow above the rolledrnoilskin duster I was using as a pillow.rn”I hear something, I can’t tell w hat. Itrnisn’t the coyotes, is it? This damn tinnitus.”rn”No,” I said, “it’s not the coyotes.”rnThe sound was the familiar half-humanrnhowl, starting with a whoop and sustainingrnitself like the exhalation of arntrained singer, far to the soudieast abovernthe tops of the cold black forest, beyondrnrange even of Dick’s expensive microphonernsetup and lashng three or threeand-rna-half minutes.rn”Well,” I added when it had ended,rn”that didn’t take long.”rn”No, it didn’t. Maybe we’ll hae anrnencounter tonight. If we just let it comernin to us, like we did a year ago.”rnArmed with magnum revoKers wernscouted on foot that morning through thernrain that had retiuncd in waves of lowrncloud to the mountains, and in the afternoonrnI rustled up some of the dead firrnbranches arormd and built a smokev signalrnfire so hot it singed the hair on myrnforearms and took most of my evebrowsrnoff. Later we sat out drinking tea with thernrevolvers, the mike, and the Bionic Earrnon the folding table before us, waiting forrnthe brooding heart of the wilderness tornannounce itself The silence was unbrokenrnuntil about 6:?0, when the coyotesrnhigh in the rocky bowl above started uprnand behind them, distant et unmistakable,rnthe strong assertive howl.rn”I guess we’ve been discovered,” Dickrnsaid. “Sounds to me like they’re talkingrnback and forth already.”rnAround seven we ate an early supper,rnthen napped until sundown before goingrnon watch at 50-percent alert, Dick assumingrnthe nine-to-twelve shift while I slept.rn”You’ll wake me right awa- if ou hearrnanvthing suspicioirs?”rn”You’ll be the first to know about it, Irncan promise you.”rnAt 10,600 feet, the August night wasrnchill. I slept fitfulh’ beneath the heavybag,rnunzipped for an instant exit, before Irnrelieved Dick at midnight and lay listeningrnto what might have been the grain}’rnsound of riie universe through the headphonesrnattached to the Ear, or the mountainsrnbreathing in and out in the moonlessrndark. Three hours passed quickly, Irnfelt wide awake and alert, and I had decidedrnto allow Dick another hour of sleeprnwhen from the silence a gaftiering, rushingrnsound arose suddenly in the headphones,rnlike some nivsterious energvrnfield bearing rapidh- down on therncamper. Like nothing at all, a burst ofrnstatic, but then again like sometliing, andrncoming fast. Rigid in the bed, I was consideringrnwaking Dick when I heard anotherrnsound: a sharp click, like one rockrnstruck cleanly against another. Thernheadphones roared in m- ear as I threwrnoff the sleeping bag, took Dick genth’ hvrndie arm, and shook him awake.rn”‘\’hat is ft?”rn”I don’t know. I’he rock clackingrnnoise is back again.”rnHe took the apparatus from me and listened,rnholding the dish at arm’s lengfti asrnhe panned the invisible circumference ofrnthe dark clearing.rn”I don’t hear anything.”rn”Neiftier do 1. It must be gone, now.rnBut it was somcftiing.”rnIn the morning it rained again, heav’rnmonsoon clouds from the Gulf of Mexicornblotting the peaks and the bow 1 belowrnthem. Wc drank coffee and ]3laed therncrucial 15 or 20 seconds of the tape overrnand over. The mike had jjicked up whatrnftie Ear had missed: two clicks before therngathering noise, and in the farther distancernfive measured knocks, like someonernpoimding a log wifti a stick.rn”So what do von think?'” I asked finally-rn”I don’t know. Let’s take a walk andrnget awav from lierc for a little while.”rnGame trails in the woods below therncamp, thickly printed with the tracks ofrnelk, converged on a grassy meadow tranrpledrnby sharp hooves and flattened byrnbedded animal bodies. At the forestrnedge, the tall weeds behind a down logrnlay crushed beside a sturdy pine saplingrnfreshly broken above the root and bowedrndown across the flattened place. At firstrnglance it appeared like just another bed; arnsecond one said it wasn’t.rn”Are ou thinking what I am?” Dickrnasked.rn”Something was crouched here lastrnnight, watching the elk herd from behindrnthe log.”rn”Something with the strength to pullrnthat tree over and break it almost cleanrnoff You and I together couldn’t haverndone that.”rnWe found no tracks or hair samples,rnbut on the return upstream to camp thernwind carried briefly what Dick thoughtrnwas a rotten smell and I compared to arndirt’ horse blanket.rn”Would ou say ‘fetid’ was the word?”rn”I’d sa’ fctid’s close enough.”rnAnother vae of rain came in as wernclimbed up the drainage and hiked thernlogging road back to camp, sheltering thernbolstered pistols under our waterproofs.rnThe camper stood dripping in the rain asrnwc approached, and then I heard Dickrnsay, “Hey! What happened?”rnThe awning aboe the door had beenrnlifted off the ground and flung back overrnrile roof as neafl” almost as if it had beenrnstowed there. Stretcliing to reach sornhigh, we succeeded at last in pulling itrndown from die roof and rearranging thernaluminum poles. None was bent, but thernnylon eyes holding the bolts in placernwere torn clean through.rn”It must have been a wind gust that didrnit,” Dick said finally.rn”Except fliere wasn’t any wind.”rn”Maybe a microl)urst when that latestrnstorm came through.”rn”There hasn’t been an wind, I’mrntelling ou.”rn”The awning’s on the lee side of therntrailer, anwa’.”rnThe grass was trampled into pariis betweenrnthe trailer and the forest edge, butrnit was impossible to say wheflier it hadrnbeen done by us or someone — somernthing—che.rn”You understand,” Dick added, “riiat,rnif it wasn’t the wind, we’ve just had arnwarning.”rn”I understand. It’s almost a staple ofrnthe literature at fliis point.”rnWe packed die camp in ftiat eveningrnand pulled out next morning. I’he roofrnof riie camper when we cranked it downrnhad a sizable dent from one of the polesrnbeing flung violently downward, as ifrnfrom a height of ten or twelve feet. Werndidn’t want to have to shoot anyfliing,rnand it was beginning to rain again, anywav”.rn.50/CHRONICLESrnrnrn