I met him by himself coming back from a hunting trip. He hadn’t got any game at all, not so much as a field mouse, but he wasn’t cast down about it. He was just larking along enjoying the morning air. That’s one of the things I first loved about him.
Well, so he come to live here. And all I can say is, it was the happiest year of my life. He was just purely good to me. A hard worker and never lazy, and so big and fine‐looking. Everybody looked up to him,
It was the moon, that’s what they say. It’s the moon’s fault, and the blood. It was in his father’s blood. I never knew his father, and now I wonder what become of him. He was from up Whitewater way, and had no kin around here. I always thought he went back there, but now I don’t know. There was some talk about him,
she turned from her father. Just overnight. He come in and she got scared‐looking, stiff, with her eyes wide, and then she begun to cry and try to hide behind me. She didn’t yet talk plain but she was saying over and over, “Make it go away! Make it go away!
He stood up then on two legs. I saw him, I had to see him. My own dear love, turned in the hateful one.
My sister’s teeth were in its throat. I got there and it was dead. The others were drawing back from the kill, because of the taste of the blood,