The Sasquatch Mystery

slice of bread to butter it. A pebble drilled a hole through its center. Honey dropped the bread and smothered a scream. Almost at once, a third pebble spanged against the jam jar and dropped to the tabletop.
    Knut picked up the pebble and rolled it between his fingers. “This is river stone. See? It’s water-washed and smooth.”
    “It’s carrying around a supply,” Jim said.
    Nobody mentioned the name of the animal, but the one word was in each mind. Sasquatch.
    “Shall we try to act normally?” asked Miss Trask.
    Knut frowned. “Evidently it’s stationed itself to bombard the camp. I think it could hit us if it wanted to. It must just be trying to scare us.”
    “Guess what!” Honey’s smile wobbled. “It’s succeeding!”
    “To think that it’s only got a slingshot,” Jim said nervously. “It’s really ridiculous when you stop and think about it.”
    “It doesn’t feel too ridiculous when that slingshot is right on target,” said Trixie, rubbing the sore calf of her leg.
    A tear rolled down Di’s cheek. “Isn’t there some way we can protect ourselves?”
    Trixie gulped. “W-We could build a big fire and make sure there’s a firebrand for each of us to use.”
    Nobody disagreed. The whole group rose from the table, rushed to the woodpile, and searched for long sticks of wood to push into the coals.
    “Now we should be able to fend off the beast until we can reach the truck,” Jim said.
    “The tires!” Trixie reminded him.
    “We finished that job,” Brian said.
    “G-Good,” Honey said shakily.
    “Tell you what,” Knut said. “I’ll go bring the truck right in close to the fire.”
    “Oh, Knut, no!” Hallie cried. “The sasquatch will get you!”
    “Not if Mart and I go with him,” Jim said. With no more discussion, the boys rushed to the truck.
    When the rocks continued to fall on the group around the table, Trixie had a sudden realization: The creature had mostly chosen to bombard the five females.

Bear and Sasquatch ● 17

    BY THE TIME Knut had parked the truck right in the middle of the small camping area, the pebble-throwing had ceased. The sasquatch was nowhere to be seen, but stars became visible, one by one, as if hands snapped on electric switches. It was a beautiful night, one that belied the anguish of those gathered close together around the campfire.
    “I’ll leave the truck here,” said Knut, “but I really don’t think we should leave camp unless it’s an absolute emergency.”
    “Have we enough firewood to last through the night?” Miss Trask asked.
    “Plenty,” Jim assured her.
    No one was in the mood for a game or a song. Not even a common topic of conversation came to mind. Everyone sat on logs or in the camp chairs and stared at the fire, holding their firebrands tensely.
    “I don’t like this!” Hallie proclaimed loudly, stamping angrily at an invisible bug.
    “What makes you think the rest of us do?” Trixie shot back.
    “Ssh, Trix,” Jim warned. “We’re all a little edgy.”
    “I think I know something that might help,” Di said shyly. “I could make fudge.”
    “I’ll beat it for you,” Mart volunteered at once.
    “It’ll never set before bedtime,” Trixie declared. “It’s not cold enough out.”
    “We could cool it in the creek,” Honey said, catching some of Di’s spirit. “That water’s really cold.”
    Knut hesitated.
    “Why would anyone display indecisiveness in allowing Di to indulge in her penchant for cacao cuisine anytime the propensity strikes her?” demanded Mart. “Without doubt, she’s the most adept, adroit, and accomplished concocter of candied confections in our native realm of New
    York. In fact, said fair maiden is probably the finest fudge fabricator in the entire geographical entity you refer to as Idaho, as well.”
    “I just don’t want to attract company,” Knut explained. “But, well, I’m not inhuman. I like fudge, too!”
    Jim raked up a pile of glowing coals. Mart kept up an amusing patter all the time Di measured and stirred.
    Trixie suspected that Di was covering up nervousness and fright in the only way she knew how, by making a treat she could share. Trixie wished she could think of something to calm her own nerves.
    At last, Di declared the candy ready to take from the fire. Mart carried the pot to the table to cool in a pan of creek water. They kept track of the temperature of the candy. When it was cool enough for a palm to be put against the sooty bottom of the pan,