Erin undressed the man's bandaged stump, telling him that the wound looked almost healed. "When the swelling shrinks, they can fit your prosthesis." Chum started barking louder.

"Hey, quit wiggling around till I tape up the bandage."

"My dog's barking at something."

"That's what dogs do, Mr. Fraser. They bark." She stuck the last tape on the bandage.

"That's a bad bark. There's something wrong. Please check, Nurse."

"I think I remember this conversation." She got up to look out the window. "He's straining on his chain toward that ravine and jumping around. Probably sees a bear."

"I'll grab my rifle and walker. See what we can spot down there."

"We?" Erin squeaked. "I don't want to spot a bear."

"I got this feeling there was more trouble coming."

"Oh, you're psychic now?" Erin gaped at the man grabbing his coat. "Listen, Mr. Fraser, if it's more bodies, I'm out of here. Oh, Chum broke his chain and tore up the slope."

Now, with their coats and boots on they both hurried out the door. A shot rang out followed by a high-pitched yelp.

Mr. Fraser roared. "They shot my dog."

Now, Erin raced ahead of the trapper who pounded his walker legs into the mud, trying to balance the gun as well. When she reached the top of the rise, she heard a car engine rev up in the distance and take off with a screech of tires. She spotted the greyish animal lying near the grove entrance. She slipped and slid down the muddy slope, trying to keep upright. The dog raised his head, whimpered at her and tried to get up when she reached him.

"It's okay, Chum. Stay down. Let's see." Blood oozed from a small hole in his upper hind leg. She grabbed a wad of gauze from her waist pouch and applied pressure against the wound to stop the trickling flow. He growled a few times while trying to stand. She patted his head telling him to stay down again. She wasn't sure what commands he understood, but he became quiet. The old fellow at the top trained his scope on her. A nervous thought arose that he'd shoot her, but why? Keep your cool, Erin. No stupid thoughts or dumb actions. She gave a thumbs up sign, yelled loudly that the dog was okay. She pointed to her own leg, then at the dog, to tell him the problem. Then she made hand gestures to telephone for a sling to carry the dog back up the slippery hill.

The dog kept trying to get up. With the bleeding stopped, she made a sling of her arms under his belly for support, thinking to work their way up the hill. But he wanted to go in the opposite direction, back to the old burial site. "She's gone, silly dog. No one's buried there now.