Lost in the Blinded Blizzard by John R. Erickson Read Free Book Online Page B

snow-blind and your eyes begin playing . . .
    Licking their chops?
    Uh-oh. Fellers, I had just blundered into the winter camp of a couple of dog-eating coyotes. That’s not something you want to do when you’re out on an important errand of mercy.

Chapter Nine: Snowbound with Cannibals

    I did a quick about-face and began marching in the other direction, hoping that the coyotes might think they had seen a mirage. Or something.
    I had only gone three steps when I heard them shout, “Halt! Stop! Not try to escape!”
    I, uh, pretended not to hear them. That can happen sometimes, when the wind’s blowing hard. I hoped they’d understand, but just in case they didn’t, I cast a glance over my . . . they were coming after me, plunging through the snow with big leaps.
    â€œHalt! Not walk away when coyote say halt!”
    I picked up my pace somewhat, moving into a rapid walk and then into a dog trot. When I sensed that this wasn’t working, I reached for the afterburners and went to Escape Speed.

    And ran smack into them. Those guys were fast.
    They weren’t smiling, not at all. They looked very serious, almost angry. Angry. And hungry.
    Snort narrowed his eyes and gave me a sniffing.
    â€œThat you, Hunk, with face covering up with many snowflake?”
    â€œMe? With my face covered up with snow­flakes? No, it’s not me at all. There’s been some mistake.”
    â€œUh. Snort thinking we find ranch dog name Hunk.”
    â€œOh no. No, no. No, not at all.”
    â€œYou looking berry much like Hunk, Snort think, and Rip too.”
    Rip nodded his head, and they continued to stare at me with their yellow eyes.
    â€œNo, I think this is just a simple case of mistaken identity, Snort. I’m not me at all. That is, I’m not who you think I am, unless . . . eh, just out of curiosity, what do you think of this ‘Hunk’ feller? Tell me about him.”
    â€œChicken dog.”
    â€œNo, that’s not me.”
    â€œDummy ranch dog.”
    â€œSee? You’ve got the wrong guy, and I really . . .”
    Snort blocked my path. “Hunk all the time making coyote look foolish, play many trick.”
    â€œNo! You mean, there’s a dog around here who could make you guys look foolish? I can hardly believe that.”
    â€œBetter you believe that.”
    â€œRight. I believe that with all my heart and soul and liver and . . .”
    â€œCoyote hungry for liver.”
    â€œI didn’t say liver. I said ‘heart and soul.’”
    â€œUh. Coyote hungry for heart.”
    â€œI didn’t say heart. I must have misquoted you, so let me run the whole thing past you again. I said, ‘I believe that will hardly deliver my soul,’ is exactly what I said, word for word. Honest.”
    â€œNothing about hearts or livers.”
    â€œNot make sense, ‘hardly deliver soul.’”
    â€œYou’re right, Snort, so let’s just scratch out the business about the soul. That leaves us with, ‘I believe that will hardly deliver the mole.’ How does that grab you?”
    â€œHa! Mole not grab coyote. Coyote grab mole and swallow in two bites, yum yum.”
    â€œNow we’re getting somewhere! What you guys need is a nice fat mole to eat, and I’ll bet that if you’d stick your heads into that big snowdrift over there and count to five thousand, you’d find one. No kidding, I really think you’d . . .”
    â€œYou wipe snow off of face.”
    â€œSay what? Wipe snow off of . . .”
    Rip stepped forward and slugged me under the chin, causing my head to fly back and red checkers to form behind my eyes, and sending the snow flying off of my face.
    And all at once I was exposed, stripped of my disguise in front of two of the most dreadful cannibals in Ochiltree County.
    They gave me big toothy grins. “Ah ha, Hunk hiding behind snow!”
    â€œNo, wait a minute. I wasn’t exactly .