The Sasquatch Mystery

particular instant. Both Jack and Jill had fallen down that hill of theirs.
    Miss Trask stood up and brushed the bark from her squeaky new blue jeans. “Bedtime, my friends,” she announced. “Now, tell me, how do we dispose of the fire?”
    “Knut and I will take care of it, Miss Trask,” Cap said quickly, “if the rest of the fellows will help us carry water.”
    Soon full pails of water ringed the fire, although none was dumped on the deep bed of coals. Trixie overheard Cap ask, in an aside to Knut, “Before or after two?”
    Trixie’s bump of curiosity tingled like a jarred crazy bone. Her cousins were not planning to put out the fire. They were standing guard!
    Was that usual?
    Honey shared Trixie’s small tent, and Di and Hallie were close neighbors. The entries to their tents faced each other and were near enough to be within hand-clasping distance.
    “Wanna gab and giggle?” Hallie invited her guests.
    Di and Honey agreed with delight, but Trixie was not in the mood—not when she could see Knut take up his lonely vigil, armed only with a flashlight.

Sasquatch! ● 3

    SEVERAL TIMES DURING THE NIGHT Trixie awoke, unused to being confined within a sleeping bag.
    Once Honey roused at the same time. “Don’t your cousins ever sleep?” she murmured. “Or do they wait till winter and hibernate like bears?”
    Trixie forced a giggle.
    Long after Honey slept again, Trixie propped her curly head on a hand to watch the shifting light of the campfire. She knew when it was two o’clock, because Cap quietly joined Knut. They spoke softly while Cap buttoned himself snugly into his jacket. Cap wasn’t as tall or as heavy as Knut, but somehow Trixie felt safer when the young mountainman, with his moccasined feet and dangling fringes, stretched out on the ground beside the fire. Cap was one with the forest itself.
    She heard Knut say, “If you need me, Capel-ton, whistle.”
    “Okay, Knutson. I will.”
    Trixie found their unexpected formality oddly comforting. It was nice to know that Knut and Cap Belden respected each other, even if she didn’t know why they were keeping watch. She realized that Knut had thrown a red herring across her trail by describing the height of a moose. So what if it was seven feet tall at the point of the shoulder? What was there in this camp to attract a moose? Besides, no moose could have made the sounds they had heard. As Trixie finally fell asleep, she was still trying to decide what animal could have made those sounds.
    Everyone said that Trixie’s middle name might as well have been “Curiosity.” It was her need to understand the mysterious that had led her and Honey to make plans for the Belden-Wheeler Detective Agency. They had already solved a number of puzzling mysteries in their home area of Sleepyside-on-the-Hudson. They had gone farther afield several times, gaining widespread publicity for their work. Those mysteries had involved stolen goods, lost wills, mistaken identity, and even a lost baby. Not once had they faced a mystery whose clues were a cry in the night and an odor.
    Still restless from the excitement of the flight across the continent, Trixie stirred when the dawn song of birds greeted the new day. She yawned deeply. Gasping, she sat up in her bedroll, her hand over her mouth.
    Fish! There it was again—that smell so fetid she could have retched!
    A faint clicking sound made her look to see if Cap was still on guard.
    As if in slow-motion, Cap drew up his knees until they almost touched his chest. He began to rise, inch by inch, like a mushroom pushing its body into air. Oh, so slowly, an arm reached toward the fire. Cap withdrew a long brand that had been smoldering within reach of his right hand.
    Trixie oozed from her sleeping bag and put a bare foot on the cold canvas floor. First she’d awaken Honey, then Hallie and Di, then Miss Trask. The boys—could she reach them in time?
    Just as Trixie stretched out her hand to touch Honey, common sense gained control. Cap wasn’t making a sound. If Cap thought people should be roused, he'd yell, wouldn’t he?
    Trixie crept to the tent opening to see what Cap saw. She could make out nothing... except that every boulder, every bush, every stump or fallen log had taken on some fantastic bestial shape in the half-light. Then she saw it!
    But what was it? Trixie went rigid with fear.
    A very tall thing stood what seemed like only a few feet from Cap. Arms dangled past its knees. Its head and shoulders