story13

The boys were anxious to make an early start. Gary and James were brothers, Carl and Jesse were their cousins. The boys had grown up together, known each other their entire lives. The boys were country boys, used to the woods, hunting, and dogs.

Gary and James owned old Sport, a lab retriever, fiercely loyal to them, as they were to him. He was coal black, fast as lightning, and as strong as could be. Old Sport easily towed two boys at a time when they went to the swimming hole on hot july afternoons.

Country boys don't speak of their love for animals, like some city folk do. It's just there to them. They show love with a pat on the head, or "here Sport" up on the bed call at night. They love their animals, and the animals know it. And the animals love them back, that is how it is in the country.

So, it was no surprise that old Sport was racing about in the yard this way and that, as the boys prepared to leave that morning. Sport loved to hunt as much as he loved the boys. And today he would enjoy both, his young master and the thrill of the hunt.

Sport was already sniffing the air, jumping and barking as the boys started up into the hills. This was to be a fun trip to an old cabin back in the hills. An overnight sleep out that boys seem to love, as much as candy and coca-cola. Jesse the youngest was always full of questions, nagged at Carl his older brother till Carl was ready to pop him in the side of his head and tell him to shut up a while. Old Sport with the magic knowledge that only dogs posess, quickly drew Jesse's attention into a game of fetch.

Gary and Carl both 13, each carried a .22 caliber rifle. Both boys had been taught well how to use firearms, and learned it. For both had bought home on more than one accassion a rabbit and other small game for stew. Jesse and Jimmy knew that if they behaved responsibly their older brothers would allow them to crack off a few shots later in the day. Both were anxious for this to come about.

The true hunt wouldn't begin until the following morning, but if old Sport scared up a rabbit they would surely take a shot at it. But in truth all the boys were really interested in was getting up to the cabin, shedding their clothes, and jumping into a huge swimming hole and playing the day away. Then hunting their way back down the hill early the next morning. This had been their pattern for many weeks, and it was comfortable to them.

Jimmy, Jesse, and Sport now ran up ahead playing as Gary and Carl hung back, rifles safely tucked un their arms. The boys walked forward slowly since the July sun was now making the effort a sweaty buisness. "Bout a mile and a half to go." said Carl. "Yep" replied Gary who was keenly looking into the brush. "Want to stop at the clearing just from the cabin and let the young ones shoot a spell?" asked Gary. "I reckon." answered Carl.

It was then that Gary stopped and looked all around them. "What?" asked Carl. "Don't know," said Gary. "Something don't feel right." Carl's eyes followed the direction where Gary's had been. "I don't see anything." said Carl. "Aww come on it's hot lets go." Gary was uneasy but he had no idea why, and didn't like the feeling. However, he was aware of his cousin's acute ability to tease, so he shrugged it off and continued on.

The boys reached the clearing and enjoyed watching their brothers shout with glee every time their aim was true and bark jumped off a tree. The rest of the day was spent laying out bedrolls, and swimming in the pond. The boys had bought bread and lunchmeat, plus water, and were quite content to lie on their bed rolls and talk. Old Sport lying between Jesse and Jimmy and dusk turned to dark.

The boys talked on and on about different things such as sports, summer plans, and then ghost stories. Jimmy and Jesse loved these stories and begged their brothers to tell them. Even though it meant begging to sleep with them when they finished the tales. The night had cooled considerably, and a mist was forming outside which could be seen clearly through the one cabin window. A perfect night for ghost stories and thrills.

The stories went on for some time. The sounds outside of the dark cabin adding to each tale. Old Sport lay across the two youngest lads as they petted and stroked him, and listened to their brothers. Without warning Sport rose up and faced the door. Leaning low, as if to attack, a low growl forming in his throat.

The boys were motionless, shock and fear froze them in their tracks. Sport was seeing, smelling, or hearing something that they couldn't and the old dog knew that it was bad. The little ones moved over to their brothers, and protective arms found both of their shoulders.

Carl passed a rifle to his cousin Gary who pulled back the action of his single shot .22. As Carl crawled toward his own .22, Jesse finally broke the silence between them. "Is it a bear?" he asked. "No, shhhh." said his brother. "But what is it then?" whimpered Jimmy. "Dang it Jimmy, be quiet!" hissed Gary. The two oldest boys, rifles ready inched towards the only window. Sport moved again to block them. Both boys inched back. Then they heard from a distance, but quickly growing louder, a low and very menacing scream, but not a human one, not human at all.

A foul odor began to fill the cabin, the boys tensed and scared now were becoming terrfied. Jesse and Jimmy began to whimper, and Gary and Carl were close to it as well. Only Sport seemed fearless as his back fur rose up, and his growl deepened to match the scream of whatever was out there.

The boys heard it clearly just outside the door. The stench and screaming was more than they could deal with. Rifles forgotten they now huddled together, tears on all of their cheeks. Their eyes locked on the flimsy cabin door with it's small wood bolt, the only thing keeping IT out.

Then with a mighty leap, Sport crashed through the window. The sound of his growl and his attack filled the night air. As quickly as it began it ended. The stench drifted away, the scream went silent, and Sport ceased to be heard.

The small lantern inside the cabin, the only source of light began to flicker. The boys so terrfied, not one of them moved to check it. Nor because of their fear would they open the door to call Sport home. At some point in the night, they found the safety of sleep.

Early dawn light spilled in through the shattered window. As they woke, each boy was sure a nightmare was what happened during the night. None of the boys spoke, and no one moved towards the door. Then a whimper was heard just outside the door, a whimper that Gary knew was Sport. He moved quickly to the door with the courage of morning light to chase away the fears of night.

All of the boys barefoot still fearful from the night before, went through the door, each one bumping into the other as the first boy froze in his tracks. All of their eyes were focused on Sport, their savior. He was still guarding the door to the cabin, but weak and shaking slightly, his beautiful jet black fur was now as white as snow.