GIANT IN THE HILLS

Coleman nearly collapsed. Dale had never seen the big man so shaken. He continually blamed himself for Eddie Miller's condition and now Jackie's disappearance turned him to blubbering jelly. For a self-made millionaire and a man known for his bravery, Coleman caved in quickly. Dale was disgusted with him. But he couldn't waste time with Coleman's self-recrimination, he ran for the horses with Coleman staggering behind. They followed the tracks leading away from Jackie's hiding place on the hillside. At first, it was fairly easy. But when the trail led into dense underbrush, Dale found it harder and harder to see the prints. He knew Jackie would have had no trouble discerning the minute evidence of the creature's passing. He also knew that he wasn't a trained tracker, at least as well trained as Jackie. Somehow, they were able to follow the tracks for sev-eral hours before the trail dwindled out completely. They had been able to find an occasional print in the soft earth, and that was enough to keep them on the trail. Coleman was barely any help at all. When they found Jackie's flannel shirt, torn and bloodied, in the midst of hundreds of smeared and smudged prints, he'd almost gone over the edge. "She's dead! My God it's killed her!" he raved. Dale shook him by the shoulders. "God only knows what that monster's done to her. I'll never forgive myself if anyth..." He wasn't expect-ing the fierce slap across his face. It rocked him back until he lost his balance and fell down heavily. Dale stood over him with fists clenched and terrible anger flashing from his eyes. "Alright!" Dale screamed. "If you want to give up and go home that's your business. But I'm going on until I find her. Your whining and crying makes me wanna puke! Our only chance is to find it and her as quickly as we can, and you stand here wastin' time crying like an old woman, you make me sick!" Something seemed to get through to Coleman. He slowly stood up and dusted himself off. He squared his shoulders and stared at Dale. "This is it," Dale thought. "The big guy's gonna flatten me right here." But he didn't. He nodded slowly and muttered, "You're right. I'm sorry, but none of this would've happened if I hadn't involved her in all this." "There was no way you could've known that this was going to happen," Dale told him. "You're doing what has to be done; for Eddie and for yourself. Now we gotta do what we can to get Jackie back." Dale smiled and slapped Coleman on the shoulder. He'd be all right now, Dale thought. "Okay. Let's find us a good print and get back on this thing's ass." It wasn't long before they were following a good set of tracks that led up a steep rocky incline. The horses strained as they bolted up the hillside. At the top, Dale called a halt and dismounted. He searched the ground for any sign that he might be able to use. He retreated a few yards to where he'd seen the last clear print, stepped to where he thought the next print should be but found only solid rock. The smoothness of the stone betrayed nothing of the creature's passing. The hard surface wouldn't have shown the slightest impression even if the beast had weighed a million pounds. Looking ahead, Dale saw only miles more of the hard granite that made up the entire top of this particular moun-tain. They were high up, above the tree line. Dale suddenly felt the chill and wondered if Jackie, now without a shirt, could stand the frigid air. Coleman fixed his eyes on Dale and nodded in under-standing. "We've lost it haven't we?" He asked. "I'm afraid so" Dale said grimly. "We could probably keep following it if we had a dog or two with us. This stuffs too hard to leave a print in." Dale's stomach tightened. Then, in sudden illumina-tion, he stood up. "That's it!" he exclaimed. "What? We goin' after a dog?" "Nope. Something a whole lot better than a dog!" He rushed to Buster and leaped on. They rode back down the slope to a stand of trees where Dale reached into his duffle bag and removed a brightly colored shirt. He hung it high in a tree then climbed back onto his horse. "What's that for?" Coleman asked. "It'll help us spot this peak again." "That's not a very big signal flag." "It'll have to do. Let's go." "Where we goin'?" Coleman asked. "To get our ace in the hole!" With renewed confidence, they rode like the wind. * It was dark by the time Dale and Coleman arrived at the mouth of the cave. Dale felt lucky that he'd even found it again. The old Indian was outside this time, cooking some-thing that resembled a squirrel over an open fire. He rose to his feet when he saw the white men. His eyes were not nearly as friendly this time. Dale dismounted even before Buster could completely stop. He didn't waste time with amenities. "We need your help," he told the old man brusquely. "I do not have to help you," he said. "The thing you want to do cannot be done." "But it's different this time," Dale told him. "He's got Jackie." The old man stopped waving the skinned carcass over the fire. He looked up at Dale with a suspicious grin. "You think you can trick me so I will help? Go away and do not return to the forest." Dale fell down beside the old man, glaring into the wrinkled, hawk-like face. "I tell you he's got her!" "Sasquatch does not do such things." "He did this time. And he's got your granddaughter!" "You lie!" The Indian spat. Dale rose and returned to his horse. He drew out the flannel shirt they had found on the trail. Dark patches of dried blood stained most of it. Throwing it at the old man he asked angrily, "Recognize this?" The ancient one took the shirt in his hands and shook it out. He knew it, she was wearing it when they'd come by earlier. He saw the ragged tears and the dark, sticky stains. "This proves nothing," he snapped. "Smell it. Go on smell it." Dale pushed the shirt close to the old man's face. He sniffed. He smelled her scent on the fabric, such was his acute senses. But he also smelled something else, the unmistakable musk of Sasquatch. He looked at Dale with disbelieving eyes. "No. It can not be!" He rasped. "The Sasquatch does not steal women." "But he's got her, and we need your help to find her." Dale was seeing chinks develop in the old man's armor. "Grandpa, listen to me. We're your friends. We're Jackie's friends. She even calls Bill 'Uncle'. We don't want the creature anymore. You were right, he can't be caught. We realize that now. All we want is to get Jackie back. We know she's hurt, you can see the blood stains on the shirt, but we don't know how badly. So we've got to hurry!" The ancient Indian clutched the shirt to his chest and silently nodded. "Yes," he whispered. "I will help you."