“They tore at the flesh with their beaks and swallowed the meat whole. A red fox sat on its haunches nearby. Twice it had approached but the vultures hissed and flapped their wings and the fox timidly retreated. “I don’t see no bears,” Moose said. They were on the ridge Fargo had crossed the day before. Sunlight bathed the valley. Only the thickest of the timber was in shadow. A yellow finch was conspicuous. So was a jay high in a pine. “Where did you see the fearsome blighters last?” Wendy aske...d. Fargo pointed at the firs on the opposite slope. “Going into those trees.” “They might still be there,” Moose said. “You’re the expert on bears,” Wendolyn said. “Do we wait for them to come out or do we go in after them?” Bird Rattler and his friends had not uttered a word the entire ride. But now the venerable warrior cleared his throat and said, “Go in.” “Catch them napping, as it were?” Wendy said. “I like the idea.” Fargo didn’t. Something was bothering him but he couldn’t put his mental finger on the cause.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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