A shrill yell pierced the air. What the hell? Was he under attack from some Indians after all? The Blackfoot didn’t winter in these mountains. Had some of them returned early? It seemed highly unlikely. Loud curse words that would rival the most hardened mountain man drifted through the woods. Definitely not Injuns. Using the cover of the trees, Lucas made his way silently toward whoever was making all that racket.
The loud rustling of leaves in the brush and predatory snarls reached his ears. Lucas threw caution to the wind and ran between the trees, his hand firmly gripping his knife. The vicious snapping of a jaw sent an unexpected wave of dread down his spine. He’d heard that sound only once before, a long time ago when he was out hunting with his father and brother. He’d much rather tangle with a bear, or even a cougar, than the animal he knew with absolute certainty he would face any moment. Common sense told him to run the other way.
When has common sense ever stopped you before?