close. Then he raised and swung.
The lead dog scrambled back into the other, and they both tumbled down the steep slope. Instantly the lead dog whirled and came back, wary. Sam screamed and charged. This time the dog came at him and he swung the heavy stick, hitting the dog’s head and knocking the animal off the rock. The second animal stopped and braced its feet.
At that moment Anna came around the outcropping with a club. And attacked.
For a second the animal turned. Sam swung again, catching him square in the shoulder. Feeling the force of the connection, Sam leaped, grabbing the dog by the head and lower jaw. Sam pushed off the rock, wrenching the animal’s neck and breaking the jaw as he fell down the hill. He hit the slope’s bottom with a thud, the paralyzed animal beside him.
He staggered up, blood running from his arms and hands where the animal had bitten and torn the flesh. The first dog was weaving, facing Anna, who was ready to swing.
“Hey,” Sam screamed at the dog. It faced him with a low growl. Sam did a flying kick to the point of the animal’s snout. Reeling, the beast hung its head low to the ground. Sam charged and pulled the animal’s head tight against his gut. The dog fought and they rolled, teeth flashing, gashing his arm. Sam hung on, maintaining the headlock until he was able to rise. Lifting the dog off the ground, he fell backward using all his body weight to snap the animal’s neck.
He looked up to find a shaking Anna with her club still ready.
“I couldn’t see what was happening,” she said. “I wasn’t going to be stuck there if those dogs got you.”
Sam walked over to her, dripping red as he went.
“I will never again call a man a girl as a term of denigration,” he said. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Shouldn’t we do something about those?” she said, pointing to his wounds.
“Without antibiotics we should just leave the gashes open. There’s no artery involvement. We have to move. You know the men are coming.”
An English wren was sitting on their shelter when they walked past.
“I’m gonna pee,” Anna said, “and I’m not going far.”
“Go ahead.”
“Stare at your feet. And close your ears.”
Sam laughed. She went behind a bush.
Eight
They walked inland from the shore, occasionally jogging seaward to make sure they hadn’t veered off. The going was slow.
“Can they catch us?”
“No. They won’t have a tracker, and even if they did, he would have to crawl in places. They’re more likely to try to get in front of us or beat us to Echo Bay. It’s the only settlement near here.”
“Does it hurt?” she asked, looking at his bloody arms.
“Sure, a little.”
“You’re a tough one,” she said.
“I love these islands,” he said in response. “They have their own spirit. I don’t know many places like this.”
“I could tell by the care you took with your maps.”
“These things were gouged out of the rock by glaciers in the last ice age. You notice that they are high and dry. Geologically they are young. Every hill is on its way to becoming a flat spot. We’re standing on mountains.”
“Do you know the natives here?” she asked.
“This is Kwaikutl territory. I’ve been looking at their old village sites.”
“I could see that as well. Are you part Indian?”
“I am. I’m sure you saw the books and maps in the stateroom.”
“Why won’t you talk about yourself? Are you really that afraid of telling me who you are?”
“You can see there are bears on this island. See the claw marks on the tree and this spot here where the bear scratches his backside?”
She shook her head. “I’m already very impressed, so don’t show off as a distraction. How much farther?”
“Sun’s out-it’s warm. Enjoy it. You know there isn’t a thing we can do about Jason until we get back. You have to learn to enjoy the moment even in a crisis so long as you are doing what you can do.”
“Yeah, well, I’ve never been chased by dogs and nearly drowned three times.”
“Yeah, well, nobody has ever turned down my spaghetti before.”
“Try me again in Manhattan. It seems like we’re walking there.”
“It’s still about ten miles to Manhattan North.”
“They don’t seem to be following us,” she said after a while.
“We’ll have a greeting party at Echo Bay, but they won’t try anything with people around.”
“Fishermen?”
“Bird-watchers. It’s the annual fall bird count-Echo Bay is their new hot spot. Great deal for the resort owners.”
“How did you know about that?”
“I’ve stayed at Echo Bay.”
“You’re not a bird-watcher?”
“Not exactly.”
“You are. You’re a bird-watcher!” She giggled. “You are just a bundle of surprises.
“Tell me something,” she said.
“Yeah?”
“Do you drink your coffee black?”
“All show-offs drink their coffee black. It’s a rule.”
“You drink your scotch straight?”
“Don’t drink it anymore. Occasionally red wine.”
“You smoke cigars, don’t you?”
“Cuban.”
“You don’t smoke cigarettes?”
“I don’t believe in it.”
“Thought I smelled one on the boat.”
“Strange.”
“What are your vices, Sam?”
“Couple times a month, give or take, I have wild blackberry pie or a lemon sour-cream pie, but I usually only admit to the blackberry.”
“Why?”
“Lemon sour cream is too afternoon-tea for me. So I eat it and pretend I didn’t. I break the cigar rule more than the pie rule.” He stopped for just a moment. “Are there right answers to these questions?”
“No. I’m just curious about you. Are you religious in any way?”
“I do yoga as physical discipline, not as a peek into something important. Hindus I don’t understand. The Ganges is the most polluted river in the world, and religion or not, it can’t be good throwing all that dead crap in the Ganges-a major water source.” He was silent for a moment. “There is something out here with us-the universe isn’t all cold and black and fiery infernos; somewhere there’s love and beauty and whatever makes those values rock- solid in a person’s gut.”
Anna wondered if he had just revealed more of himself than he intended. To her it was far more important than his last name.
