The Healer by Daniel P. Mannix Page B

clear. Wolf and he were one; but Wolf was also the friend he had never had who would play make-believe with him, and yet the animal was an unpredictable danger who might do anything. Then Dracula shook himself and clicked his beak. Billy roused himself from his trance and looked ahead at the somber, silent trees. He felt as though something was waiting for him there.
    At least he could go in a little ways. He plodded on under the beeches to the first tangle.
    He kicked it with his foot but nothing came out. There was nothing in the second or third. Dracula had shown sudden interest when he had begun kicking, but now the owl was growing restless again. It was too bad to disappoint him.
    He passed branches cemented to the snow with ice and found a few starling feathers. The bird had probably died of cold during the night, and something had eaten it. There was a little wind now and the twigs tinkled in their sheaths of ice as the breeze stirred them. The sound gave him confidence. The utter silence had begun to smother him.
    Ahead was a thicket of hobblebush. There might be something there. He went toward it.
    Suddenly the hobblebush seemed to explode. Two big-eared animals burst from it and fled away, their tiny toes barely seeming to touch the snow as they leaped high in the air. They bounced off as though they had springs in their feet. There was a flash of white rumps and then they were gone.
    "Deer!" gasped Billy. He had read about deer, but this was the first time he had seen any wild ones. To him they looked as big as horses.
    As the deer vanished, something burst like a bomb in front of the boy and swept away among the trees, turning and twisting as it threaded its way between the trunks. For an instant Billy thought it was a pheasant. Then he realized it must be a grouse, He flung off the owl.
    Dracula was not a fast flier, and the grouse had a long start. The owl seemed to float rather than fly after the game bird, with the grouse steadily gaining. Billy watched, expecting to see Dracula light on a branch, and had even started to feel in his pocket for a piece of meat to call the bird down, but to his surprise, Dracula kept on. Usually Dracula made no attempt to pursue quarry far; once he saw that he was outdistanced he gave up, yet this time he persisted, drifting through the trees on his soundless wings and gaining speed with every flap. Both birds disappeared among the trees. Just before they vanished Billy saw that the owl was rising to fly clear of the woods. He had seen Dracula do that before. Most game birds were fast but had little staying power. If Dracula could keep the grouse in sight until the game bird came down, the owl could drop through the branches and pin him on the ground. Billy had no idea how far a grouse could fly. Pheasants usually came down within a quarter of a mile from where they were flushed. Much depended on whether the grouse knew that Dracula was after him. In any case, it would be a long flight.
    Reluctantly, Billy started after the two birds. If Dracula killed and gorged on the grouse, he would be lost for good unless Billy could find him before he flew off.
    He would not deliberately avoid the boy, but neither would he come to him. If he missed his quarry, he would alight in a tree and sit there for a while to rest. Then, if Billy did not call him down with some food, he would fly off and go hunting for himself. Either way, the boy had to find him as soon as possible.
    He had gone well over a quarter of a mile and there was still no sign of Dracula. Of course, the grouse might have turned off to the right or left; there was no way of telling. Still, the ground was dropping here and Billy felt that the grouse would have kept downhill, especially if he had any idea that an owl was after him. Perhaps he had set his wings and glided. Tired birds often did that. Billy kept on.
    Ahead lay a cedar swamp, many of the trees warped out of shape by the weight of the snow on them. The swamp was