The Lost Woods: Stories

Poachers

110 Poachers 2000 “Poacher฀dogs,”฀Randy฀says,฀moving฀his฀dark฀glasses฀up฀onto฀the฀top฀ of฀his฀head.฀“Read฀an฀ar ticle฀about฀bear฀poachers฀in฀the฀ New฀York฀ Times.” ฀ “What’s฀a฀poacher฀dog?” ฀ “Bear฀d ogs฀in฀this฀case. ฀T he฀bastar ds฀le t five฀o r฀t en฀d ogs฀g o,฀al l฀ ฀ with฀high-tech฀radio฀collars฀on.฀The฀collars฀have฀sensors฀so฀you฀can฀tell฀ where฀the฀dog฀is฀and฀if฀he’s฀barking฀or฀looking฀up฀like฀he฀would฀be฀if฀he฀ treed.฀So฀these฀r ednecks฀go฀off฀and฀dr ink฀beer฀or฀smoke฀pot฀or฀watch฀ television—whatever฀the฀ hell฀they฀do.฀And฀then฀when฀the฀c ontrol฀unit฀ tells฀’em฀that฀the฀d ogs฀have฀treed,฀they฀get฀their฀guns฀and฀g o฀after฀the฀ bear.฀All฀they฀want’s฀the฀gall฀bladder.฀Sometimes฀they’ll฀take฀the฀hide฀and฀ ฀ the฀teeth฀and฀the฀c laws.฀But฀the฀gall฀bladder฀goes฀for five฀thousand฀dollars .฀It’s฀an฀aphrodisiac฀in฀Asia.฀Big฀money.฀Bear฀claw฀soup’s฀a฀delicacy฀in฀ Korea.” ฀ He฀draws฀the฀“Ko”฀in฀Korea฀out,฀pretending฀to฀be฀more฀southern฀than฀ he฀really฀is.฀Lummy฀has฀noticed฀that฀Randy฀often฀becomes฀more฀southern฀ when฀he’s฀involved฀in฀any฀endeavor฀that฀has฀to฀do฀with฀the฀woods. ฀ Randy฀raises฀up฀his฀shir tfront฀enough฀to฀scratch฀the฀hairy฀roll฀of฀middle-฀ age฀fat฀that฀has฀b een฀developing฀around฀his฀midd le.฀He฀lowers฀his฀dar k฀ glasses฀over฀his฀eyes฀and฀watches฀the฀two฀dogs.฀Randy฀reads฀the฀New฀York฀ Times฀every฀day฀and฀often฀shares฀its฀contents฀with฀those฀who฀don’t,฀which฀ would฀include฀Lummy,฀who฀reads฀no฀newspaper฀at฀all. Poachers 111 ฀ “Do฀the฀math,”฀he฀ continues฀as฀ the฀two฀of฀them฀watch฀the฀d ogs.฀“If฀ four฀dogs฀tree,฀then฀they฀get฀four฀bears฀and฀f our฀gall฀bladders.฀Do฀that฀ every฀weekend฀all฀season—that’s฀some฀cash.฀If฀the฀p oachers฀are฀unemployed ฀bums—which฀they฀often฀are—they฀can฀hunt฀all฀week.฀If฀they฀really฀ brazen,฀they฀hunt฀all฀year,฀go฀after฀’em฀in฀the฀den,฀butcher฀the฀damn฀bear฀ right฀where฀they฀kill฀him,฀get฀what฀they’re฀after,฀and฀leave฀the฀carcass฀to฀ rot.฀Move฀around฀a฀lot.” ฀ Two฀of฀the฀dogs฀are฀milling฀around฀the฀campsite,฀noses฀to฀the฀ground,฀ following฀scent฀paths.฀One฀ap pears฀to฀have฀a฀g ood฀bit฀of฀black-and-tan฀ hound฀in฀him,฀though฀he’s฀too฀small฀to฀be฀purebred.฀He’s฀so฀skinny฀that฀ his฀rib฀bones฀show,฀and฀his฀neck฀and฀head฀are฀scarred฀and฀nicked. ฀ “Some฀ol’฀b ear฀so mewhere฀w hacked฀him฀ar ound฀a฀b it,”฀R andy฀o bserves ,฀still฀following฀the฀dogs฀with฀his฀eyes. ฀ The฀othe r฀d og฀ap pears฀to฀b e฀so฀man y-fathered฀that฀id entifying฀his ฀ breed฀is฀w ell฀nigh฀impossible.฀Still,฀the฀dang le-eared,฀sad-eyed฀face฀suggests ฀a฀bloodhound฀or฀two฀somewhere฀in฀all฀those฀fathers.฀He฀too฀looks฀a฀ bit฀on฀the฀lean฀side฀as฀if฀he฀has฀not฀been฀too฀long฀escaped฀from฀a฀concentration ฀camp. ฀ The฀black฀and฀tan฀ stops฀dead฀in฀ his฀tracks.฀He฀noses฀Lummy’s฀REI฀ coffee filter, filled฀with฀coffee฀grounds฀and฀le ft฀beside the fire฀pit฀fr om฀ breakfast.฀He฀crunches฀down฀on฀it. ฀ “Damn฀you,฀mutt!”฀Lummy฀says. ฀ The฀dog฀tears฀off฀into฀the฀rhododendron฀that฀grows฀along฀the฀creek.฀ He฀hides฀behind฀the฀leaves,฀crunching฀grounds and filter. ฀ Lummy฀runs฀down฀the฀dog,฀kicking฀into฀the฀bush฀at฀him.฀The฀dog฀emits฀ a฀loud฀yelp฀and฀tears฀away฀as฀Lummy฀retrieves his filter.฀He฀turns฀it฀over฀in฀ his฀hands,฀examining฀the฀fang฀marks฀that฀have฀punctured฀the฀screen. ฀ Lummy฀Chapman฀is฀v ery฀particular฀about฀his฀c offee,฀likes฀to฀linger฀ over฀it.฀Cannot฀imagine฀camping฀without฀fresh฀ground฀coffee.฀It’s฀his฀payback ฀for฀sleeping฀on฀the฀hard฀ground,฀for฀teaching฀his฀recalcitrant฀son฀to฀ fish. ฀ “Yep,”฀Randy฀says฀in฀a฀mild, ฀contemplative฀tone.฀“Poachers.฀Keep฀the฀ dogs฀hungry฀and฀they’ll฀be฀sure฀to฀keep฀their฀noses฀to฀the฀ground฀until฀they฀ Poachers 112 find whatever’s฀there—even฀coffee฀grounds.฀Damn฀a฀man฀w ho’ll฀starve฀a฀ dog!” ฀ The฀November฀camping฀and฀t rout fishing trip฀was฀Lummy’s฀idea,฀or฀ to฀put฀it฀more฀accurately,฀his฀wife’s.฀She฀had...