The Frightening Beast
Im telling you, I saw it! George Peterson insisted, not budging an inch. I saw its eyes, you understand? They were staring right at me. Right here. The former constable brought his hand up to his own throat, fingers gently pressing. If Mike hadnt been driving past on his tractor, I wouldnt even be here talking to you now.
George had rushed over to see Peter James late afternoon, and for the last ten minutes hed been trying to tell him about some terrifying creature hed seen in the woods.
Peter James was an experienced man and knew George well (perhaps too well, as George had a few secrets he still hadnt confessed), so he wasnt exactly eager to listen to what he assumed was another tall tale.
Still, his manners wouldnt let him turn a neighbour away from his doorstep.
So, you say you saw its eyes? Peter raised an eyebrow, amused. A wolfs eyes, were they? Or maybe just a stray dogs?
They were wolfs eyes! George nodded with conviction. Yellow and mean. Just like Lindasmy wifeswhen I stagger home after one too many. Doesnt happen often these days, but you know how it is”
Maybe it was your Linda following you about in the woods? Peter grinned.
WhoLinda? George looked startled.
Why not? You said their eyes were just like hers. Maybe she got jealous and started keeping a closer watch. Or maybe she wanted to make sure you werent tippling a bit too much. You worked in the police beforesurely youve heard stranger things.
George fell silent, turning this over for a few moments. Suddenly, he spat at the ground, scowled, and glared at the smirking gamekeeper.
He was clearly offended now, realising Peter didnt believe a word of it. How was he ever going to convince this modern-day Doubting Thomas?
Im telling you, it was a wolf I saw in the woods, George persisted. Its not a dog. No reason for a dog to be out thereespecially at that hour.
Alright then. But tell me, George, what business did you have wandering in the woods so late, hmm? Peter asked, more thoughtfully now.
Me? WellI couldn’t sleep that night, so I went out for a stroll.
In the woods? At night?
Yes, George nodded earnestly. Whats so strange about that? There arent any wolves or bears around here. Just the odd hare, fox, maybe a wild boar if youre unlucky. You know this better than I do. Youre the gamekeeper.
Im gamekeeper for all of five more minutes Peter sighed heavily. Theyre sending me off into retirement in a few days. But youre right, I know these woodsI know what lives out there and what doesnt.
There you go then!
I also know someones been up to mischiefsetting traps, making snares. You wouldnt happen to know whose work that is, would you, George? Im sure its one of our lot gone poacher.
Not me! George shook his head vigorously. I swear, it was just a walk. Next thing I knew, these yellow eyes are staring at me out of a bushmean, hungry Tell me, Peter, why wont you believe me? Im telling the truth! And you just sit there smiling.
Alright, go on then, tell me your story, Peter waved a hand. You wont leave me alone otherwise.
Right! George brightened at once, glad to be listened to. So when I saw those eyes, I nearly keeled over from fright, honest truth. I started edging backwards toward the road, but the eyes followed. I reached the road, and there they were, right behind a treejust a couple of yards away. Thought I was a goner for sure. Even crossed myselfthough Im not exactly a churchgoer. Then I hear someone coming, rumbling along. Mike was coming home from a wedding in his tractornever have I been so relieved! I hopped into his cab and off we went.
Did you now? And youre going to tell me Mike was sober? Peter chuckled, knowing full well Mike was rarely to be found in such a state. Werent you worried about climbing in there with him?
Wasnt a bit sober, of course! Smashed, as they say. But what choice did I have? Id rather crash into a hedge than end up as wolf food. So, thanks to Mike (and maybe the Good Lord, too), I made it back, safe and sound.
Funny, Linda told me a different story. Said you never made it home at all that night. Found you only at dawn in Mikes yardhugging a bottle.
Thats right. Had a drink or two with him. Needed something to take the edge off after a fright like that. Night went by in a blur. Linda walked me home in the morning.
She had to, really. You could barely stand up. And even now youre swaying.
True enough. But anyway, Peter, once I woke up and remembered what happened, I knew I had to come tell you. Someones got to do something. If theres a wolf about, its no joke. Oh, and one more thingI forgot to mention the most important bit. When we reached the bend in the roadabout three, four hundred yards from where Mike picked me upI caught a glimpse, and those eyes were still following us! Ive never seen a wolf chase a tractor. Theyre supposed to be frightened of noise, arent they?
They dont like it, thats for sure. Peter nodded.
Exactly! But this one wasn’t scared. Mikes tractor makes enough racket to wake the dead, but the wolf was still running after us. Must be rabid, thats what I think
What wolf?
The rabid one
George paused for effect, eyeing Peter closely.
When he realised Peter was lost in thought, he pressed on:
You know as well as I do that theres no good comes from a rabid wolf near the village. You ought to have a look, Peter. Heaven knows what could happen before we get a new gamekeeper. Id come along, but Id only slow things down. Youve got more experience, and a shotgun. Will you check it out? Maybe youll see tracks
Peter didnt answer straight away.
He scratched his head, peering towards the trees.
Truth be told, there hadnt been wolves or any other big predators in these parts for many years. Seven or eight at least. So, he didnt put much stock in Georges stories.
But then againwhat if, by some chance, there really was a rabid animal lurking in the woods?
One that got so close to people, not even bothered by a clattering tractor That did sound odd.
And if so, there was no telling what trouble it could cause.
George, at least, was quite right about that.
Best to go and have a proper look. Just in case.
He was almost retired, but the job was still hiscouldnt ignore something like this.
Alright, George. Ill go and take a look in the woods tomorrow, Peter said. Got to find out just what kind of beast youve seen. If its a wolf, we cant have it coming near the village.
You want me to rally the men? I can get half the place awake in five minutes!
No, Ill go alone. Even if it is rabid, a wolf wont go for a whole crowditll just get scared off. I need to find out what you saw. Ill take my phone with me, though. If anything happens, Ill ring you, alright?
Right, Ill keep my ear out. And if you spot it, shoot firstdont wait till its on top of you! George shook Peters hand and hurried off home.
But rather than take the short cut as usual, he wandered the long way roundpast Mike’s house, maybe to fortify his nerves…
*****
The next day, Peter James set off into the woods with his shotgun.
He made his way to the spot where George had claimed the rabid wolf was lurking.
Peter was careful, slow, watching every shadow.
For hours he tramped under the trees, finding nothing odd. The woods were quiet, peaceful.
No tracks on the ground either.
Not that it was surprisingit had been cold for a week solid, the ground frozen hard.
Shouldve known better than to believe George, Peter grumbled, heading for the road. “No wolves here. Not a chance. Most likely it was a hare he saw and nearly lost his nerve. And now Ive gone and frozen my nose off.
But just as he reached the roadside, Peter suddenly felt that prickling on his backsomeone watching.
He stopped dead, tried not to panic, spun round and raised his gun.
Nobody there. For a full two minutes he stood listening, peering into the trees.
But saw and heard nothing at all.
Shaking off the unease, Peter started for home. Still, he couldnt shake off the strange feelingsomeone (or something) had been there. Perhaps if he hadnt had the gun, it wouldve shown itself.
Tomorrow Ill come back, Peter decided. And Ill bring some food. If that creatures hungry enough to hang about the village, itll be drawn out for something to eat. Then Ill see what sort of beast this is.
*****
Next morning, Peter rose early, took a parcel of boiled chicken, and returned to the woods.
He still doubted Georges wolf existedbut better safe than sorry.
George had called last evening, asking if Peter had seen the rabid wolf yet.
Peter told him the truth, nobody and nothing suspicious. No tracks either.
Perhaps the wolfs moved on to another spot? George said hopefully. Could happen, rightat least in theory?
You never know. But all the same, best steer clear of the woods at night.
Agreed. Dont want to face that again.
Returning to the spot, Peter found the same bushes and laid out the chicken on a spread of newspaper.
He stepped back and concealed himself behind a tree, gun ready just in case.
Half an hour passedstill, nothing stirred.
Clearly, George had imagined it allno wolf in the woods. Good thing, too. Couldve caused a right mess.
Just as Peter was about to head out, he heard a distinct rustling at the newspapera bit too loud.
Clutching his gun, he peered around and, at last, saw the terrifying beast George had been so worked up about.
It was not a wolf, but a doga plain old mutt.
Nothing special about it, though its coat was quite handsome in a scrappy sort of way.
Relieved, Peter stepped into the open and slung his gun over his shoulder to avoid frightening the dog.
Well now, whos been scaring people silly in the woods? Peter called out, grinning.
To his surprise, the dog gave no sign hed heard; kept eating, never looked up.
He must be starving, Peter thought, noting the dogs thin frame and trembling legscold, exhaustion, or both.
Only when Peter circled round and got right next to him did the dog notice, and thenterrifiedhe bolted deep into the bushes, leaving a few scraps of chicken behind.
No need to be frightened, Peter crouched by the bush, talking quietly. I wont hurt you. Im a gamekeeper. My jobs to look after animals. Come on outI just want to know how you ended up here and whats with that rope round your neck. Doesnt look like a lead at all.
The dog took his timehalf an hourquivering among the branches, the bushes shaking along with him.
Hunger got the better of his fear at last.
And perhaps, watching Peter all this time, the dog realised that this man meant him no harm.
So the dog crawled out and, very slowly, shuffled close to Peter.
Peter smiled, reached out to pat him, and nudged the newspaper with the last of the chicken over to him.
There you goeat up. Its all yours, Im not going to take it.
The dog, not letting Peter out of his sight, gulped down the remaining chickenand was about to slink away again when Peter caught hold of the ragged bit of rope attached to his battered collar.
He examined it closely.
Hang on a minute Are you telling me someone dumped you out here and tied you up? Left you in the cold?
The dog sat and gazed at Peter.
And the way he looked at him sent a shiver down Peters spinehed never seen a gaze like that before. In all his years with dogs, never one so attentive, so searching.
The dog seemed to listen with his eyes, not his ears.
But for now, Peters main concern was how anyone could have left such a gentle, attractive young dog to die in the woods, tied to a tree.
What did you do to deserve this, lad? Peter sighed, giving him a gentle squeeze. Whatever it was, you dont look the sort. Not with eyes like those
So, Peter took the dog home with him.
He hadnt planned to keep him, of coursewith retirement coming, he had no wish (he thought) for a pet.
But hed find a good home for Buddy (as he called the mysterious forest dog for now).
*****
There you go, make yourself comfortable, Peter told the dog, spreading an old coat by the stove. Hope thatll do for a bed. Sorry, its all Ive got.
Buddy wagged his shaggy tail gratefully, curled up on the coat, and promptly fell asleep.
Get some rest, Buddy Youve had quite a struggleLord knows how long out in the woods, in the middle of winter.
Probably two weeks at least, Peter reckoned. Maybe more.
Lucky thing hed managed to gnaw through the rope and make it to the village, otherwise George would never have spotted himand Peter wouldnt have been able to help. Who knows what wouldve happened then
While Buddy slept, Peter made every effort not to disturb himhe even took calls from George out in the yard, lest a loud voice wake the poor animal.
So, theres no rabid wolf in the woods, then? George sounded relieved. Just a dog all along. Wonder what he was doing out there? Is he local or has he turned up from somewhere else?
Not one of ours, Peter replied thoughtfully. And not from any neighbouring village either. Clearly, he didnt end up in the woods by choice. Someone helped him find his way there. Poachers and folk who ditch animalsI cant stand either.
Whatll you do with him?
Ill find somewhere for him. Hes young, healthy enough. Im sure someone will want him. If I have to, Ill take him into townhes small enough for a flat.
Well, things didnt quite go as Peter planned.
Turned out, Buddy wasnt quite your average dog. A bit odd, in fact
That evening, as Peter brought in an armful of logs and tried to stack them by the fire, he tripped, sending wood clattering to the floor with such a racket it rang in his ears.
But the dog
didnt stir. Not a twitch, not an ear flick. Sound asleep.
Thats odd Peter scratched his head and approached Buddy. Hey there, all right?
Only when he touched him did Buddy leap up, startled. Then, on recognising his rescuer, his tail wagged wildly and he buried his nose in Peters palm.
Hold on you dont hear anything, do you? Well, thats a thing. However will you manage? Looks like well have to see the vet in the next village tomorrow.
Peter thought:
If Buddy really is deaf, finding him a home will be no easy task
*****
The vet, after a good look, confirmed Peters suspicionsBuddy was stone deaf.
Looks like its not a birth defect, the vet explained. Couldve been illness, or some injury.
How am I supposed to communicate if he cant hear a thing? Peter asked.
Its not that hard. You must have noticed, he looks you right in the eye, doesnt he?
I did, actuallywhen I led him out of the woods, he watched me the whole way, as if trying to work out whether I was speaking or not.
Thats it! Hes reading your expressions, getting clues from your face. Hes quite good at it, too. But Peter, youll need to help him.
How do I do that?
Come on, lets have some tea and Ill tell you what you need; nothing complicatedbasic signals, some simple sign language. Youll pick it up together. Are you thinking of keeping him?
Well, I, um Peter hesitated and looked at Buddy.
Buddy gazed back, searching his face, clearly trying to work out what he was thinking.
“Yes Yes, I think Ill keep him. Finding him a home wont be easy, and, after all, I found him in the woods and brought him homeits on me to care for him. Ill have time, once I retire. Settled, then! Hes my dog now.
Thats the spirit! Youve got yourself a good one here, Peter. Hes a clever lad, and hell be the most loyal friend youll ever have. Trust me, I know dogs.
I can see hes smart, and devoted. Just dont understand how anyone could treat him like thattie him up in the woods just because hes deaf.
Who knows what goes on in peoples heads Maybe they didnt want to bother with a deaf dog. Still, why go to such lengths?
Beyond me. Well, lets put the kettle on and you can show me exactly how to work with him. Ive never done it before, and Id hate to get it wrong.
Youll manage. Youll do just fine.
*****
And so, Peter James lives with Buddy now.
It was hard at first, learning to communicate; but six months on, they understand each other practically with a single look.
Buddy knows every signal Peter gives, and reads his face like a book.
He follows Peter everywhere, tail up, eyes aglow with happiness.
A new gamekeeper still hasn’t arrived, so Peter unofficially continues to look after the woods.
And Buddywell, Buddys more help than most people.
Several times now, Buddys led Peter straight to hidden snares and traps laid out by some poachercould’ve been for hares, could’ve been for foxes.
Whats wrong with these people? Peter muttered. Cant they see that you have to live in balance with nature?
Hed not yet managed to catch the poacher in the act, but every time they found a trap, George grew darker-faced around the village.
Once, Peter overheard George grumbling to Mike, glass in hand, swearing hed never set foot in the woods again.
Im done. Complete waste of time. And if Linda wants a fur collar for her coat, she can go to the market and buy one. Be cheaper, anyway.
Peter and Buddy passed by at just that moment and caught it all.
He smiledone less poacher in the woods now.
And if George, or anyone else, ever gets the urge to break the rules again, Peter and Buddy are ready. They’ll keep things in order until the new gamekeeper comes.
So, alls well now. For the woodsand for The Man and his Dog.
