The Dark Place

were utterly still, as was the forest. There were no bird cries, no insect sounds, no murmur of wind. When 3:00 a.m. came around, he was happy to give over the watch to Julie. He curled up on his side, facing her, his right hand resting on her waist, his left under the soft line of her jaw. He could feel her pulse throb against his pinkie. With a long sigh, he let himself drift off to sleep. Dawn was only a few hours away. If Big Cheese had had anything in mind, he'd already have tried it.

* * * *

He felt urgency in the grip on his shoulder and was instantly awake. “What?'

'The big hut,” she whispered. “Somebody's moving.'

He turned carefully onto his other side to face the huts. It was more difficult to see now. The misty rain had begun to float down again, and the air was soupy with it. There was a vague, diffuse moonlight filtering through the clouds, but it was no help, obscuring vision like headlights in the fog. His hair was wet with rain, the sleeping bag heavy with moisture.

He stared at the hut, blinking away the mist that had collected on his eyelashes, and listened hard. There was no sound. Nothing moved.

'Are you sure? Could someone have just turned over in his sleep?'

'I don't think so.” Her whisper was sibilant, breathless. Again he could feel her breath on his neck, but now it was a shallow panting. “There!'

There had been a faint rustle. The poles at the hut entrance moved slightly, and someone crawled through. Gideon's hand found the handle of the ax. The figure rose and then stood, motionless and crouching. No, not crouching but crippled. It was Startled Mouse.

'Whew,” Gideon said, realizing that he had hardly been breathing himself.

'But why is he out there?” Julie said into his neck.

'Shh.'

The old man was not wearing his mantle, and the rain glistened on his skinny shoulders. He appeared to be staring directly at them, but Gideon doubted that he could see them in the rain. After a few moments, he turned to his left and limped quickly toward the other end of the cavelike shelf.

Gideon smiled. “Call of nature,” he said. There was a toilet pit about seventy-five feet away, just out of sight.

'Boy,” Julie said, hugging him from behind. “That really gave me a scare. Was he looking at us?'

Before he could reply, a second figure, its movements agitated and ferocious, came from the hut. It was Big Cheese, awesome and gigantic against the fragile huts, a slab-muscled, fairy-tale giant, weirdly out of focus in the clinging mist. He ran quickly to where Gideon and Julie had lain earlier, immediately below the shelf. He was obviously startled when he saw the poncho and parka in place of the sleeping bag, and he kicked fiercely at the garments. Clearly, he was furious, trembling with rage, and he was a fearsome sight. The great muscles of the naked back twitched and coiled visibly, as clear as illustrations in an anatomy text, and shining with grease and rain. The savage head twisted violently from side to side as he searched for them.

Gideon looked directly down on him from a frighteningly small distance, no more than four feet, close enough to hear the heavy, frenzied breathing. The Yahi lifted his face suddenly into the rain, and with his eyes closed and his voluptuary's lips stretched over his teeth, actually howled: a low, wolflike moan that raised the hairs on the back of Gideon's neck. With the sound, Julie buried her face between Gideon's shoulders and gripped his sides. He could feel her shiver convulsively. His heart pounded crazily. His tongue, rough and dry, seemed to fill his throat. He realized with a remote, annoyed disapproval that he was very much frightened. Bracing himself against the rocky ledge as well as he could, he gripped the ax and got ready for whatever was going to happen.

The Yahi's moan died away, and the streaming face was lowered with its slitlike eyes closed. And then he was gone, bounding noiselessly through the mist and disappearing behind an outcropping of the boulder.

Julie's forehead was still pressed tightly to his back, her hands clenched on the cloth of his shirt. Over the hammering of his own heart, he could feel hers thumping against him.

'Shh,” he whispered, stroking her arm. “It's all right. He's gone.'

What had happened seemed clear. Big Cheese had seen the old man get up to go to the toilet pit—perhaps it happened every night, and the young Indian had been waiting for his chance. As soon as Startled Mouse was out of sight, Big Cheese had run to where he thought the saltu were sleeping. If they'd been there, Gideon thought, their heads would be smashed now, and Big Cheese would be back in the hut, rolled up in his skin and snoring, when the old man returned. In the morning, Big Cheese would be as surprised as the rest at the deaths of the strangers. Startled Mouse might be suspicious, but he couldn't know for sure what had happened.

'Wh...where did he go?” Julie asked without moving.

'I don't know. Hunting for us, I guess. He won't look up here.'

Without confidence, Julie asked: “Why not?'

'Because,” whispered Gideon, straining for lightness, “I chose this spot with the acumen for which I am so well known. Ishi told Kroeber no one slept under an open night sky. All sorts of spirits and disease lurk out there. It won't occur to a Yahi that we were batty enough to move out from under the overhang.'

Julie rallied. “They're right,” she said. “We're soaked.” He could feel her relax a little, and it steadied him.

Quietly, he folded back the top flap of the bag and began to rise.

'Where are you going?” she asked sharply. “Don't—'

'Shh, I'm not going anywhere. I just want to stand up and look. I can't see where he ran.” He peered cautiously over the top of the boulder and was able to see all the way to the end of the rockbound enclosure, to the narrow cleft through which he and Julie had entered it.

'Do you see him?'

'There's nothing. The sky's getting smudgy out that way, though. It'll be light soon.'