The Sasquatch Mystery

Tank’s cabin door and the scrap the pack rat had left on Di’s pillow.
    Had this fame-hungry man really caught the sasquatch—or had it caught him? Might he have injured the beast? Could that have been the reason the sasquatch attacked Cap?
    Trixie sighed, deeply and soundlessly. She sensed danger in each shadow behind boulder or pine, in each flip of a squirrel’s tail, and in each tilt of a hawk’s silent wings. Hearing the friendly-yet-not-so-friendly chatter of Hallie and Di up ahead—and even though Honey was actually closer to them than she was to her— Trixie was glad she wasn’t there alone.
    Then Trixie glanced sideways and found that she was even less alone than she had thought.
    A man stood statue-still against the trunk of a nearby giant white pine. His rifle was raised, ready to fire.
    More than anything, Trixie wished she could simply disappear.
    Without a doubt, this was Opie Swisher, the man she had seen in camp Monday. He hadn’t even changed his clothes.
    And he didn’t look friendly. Trixie decided against asking him any questions. Not knowing what else to do, she took a step backward toward the road. She stepped on a dry twig, which snapped like a gunshot. The man stared at her, but still he said nothing.
    He's standing guard , Trixie thought. But he isn't worried about a bunch of girls. What else....
    Trixie plunged forward to catch up with her friends. “Who-Who’s hungry?” She greeted them with forced cheerfulness.
    “What’s wrong, Trixie?” Honey asked immediately, knowing something was wrong.
    “I’ll tell you later,” Trixie answered in a low voice. “Let’s get out into the open.”
    Silently the four girls hurried out to the road. When they reached it, they broke into a steady, energy-saving trot that would take them as quickly as possible down the mile-long stretch to the Champion Creek bridge, where they’d left the boys.
    For some reason, Trixie’s lips had automatically rounded into a circle, ready to push out air to sound the Bob-White whistle for help. When she became aware of what she was doing, Trixie took a deep breath. Take it easy , she told herself. The tree squirrels are still working.
    They wouldn’t be cutting down cones if they sensed danger. Cap says they’re the biggest gossips in the forest.
    Suddenly a rock hit the road. A single cone fell. There was sudden silence. Tree squirrels froze like statues. A gopher took warning and ducked into its hole in the road bank. Trixie wished she could shrink to its size and follow.
    The first rock was followed by a second. This one barely missed Hallie’s foot. Then one whizzed past Honey’s shoulder. Almost at once, a fourth rock stung Trixie’s leg before it hit the road.
    Both frightened and angry, Trixie spun about, expecting to see the man who owned the station wagon, though why he should throw rocks instead of shoot, she didn’t know. She began a sharp rebuke. It stuck in her throat.
    Making no effort to hide, a huge fur-covered creature lumbered down the middle of the dirt road. Each time its two arms went up, another stone whizzed toward the girls.
    “It’s an—an encounter!” Hallie gasped.
    “Do we run—or s-s-stay?” stammered Honey.
    Di was speechless with fright.
    Trixie bit her tongue. All the terror she had felt up on the mountain gathered in one great lump in her throat. Her slide down the log shute hadn’t caused the beast to attack, yet here it came, hurling rocks without provocation.
    Cap gave us the rules about facing a real , live, toothy bear, Trixie thought. First, don’t panic. You’ll lose the race. Freeze. Face him. Back up slowly. Watch for a climbable tree. If possible, step behind a bush, then move slowly out of sight. When his ears stand up again, you’re probably safe. But, Trixie’s brain screamed, this isn’t a bear. This is a sasquatch, and I’m not programmed for the unknown!
    “Let’s run!” Di urged, white with terror.
    “I—I don’t think so,” Hallie answered, just as frightened but familiar with the forest. “Running excites animals.”
    Surprisingly, the beast came no closer. Still, Trixie could see that it was not as huge and powerful-looking as the beast in the huckleberry patch. It didn’t have the same great ledge of brow, nor did the sun shine on wet teeth.
    “I th-think it’s a y-young one,” Trixie managed to say through clenched teeth.
    After an uncertain shifting from one side of the road to the other, the beast stooped. It