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t it was going to disappear into the forest。 But at the archway formed by two sycamores； through which Travis had e Only minutes ago； the dog stopped and looked back expectantly。 With an air of frustration and anxiety； it hurried in his direction again； swiftly circled him； grabbed at his pants leg； and wriggled backward； trying to drag him with it。
〃Wait； wait； okay；〃 he said。 〃Okay。〃
The retriever let go。 It issued one woof； more a forceful exhalation than a bark。
Obviously…and astonishingly…the dog had purposefully prevented him from proceeding along the gloomy stretch of the deer trail because something was down there。 Something dangerous。 Now the dog wanted him to flee because that dangerous creature was drawing nearer。
Something was ing。 But what？
Travis was not worried； just curious。 Whatever was approaching might frighten a dog； but nothing in these woods； not even a coyote or a cougar； would attack a grown man。
Whining impatiently； the retriever tried to grab one leg of Travis's jeans again。
Its behavior was extraordinary。 If it was frightened； why didn't it run off； forget him？ He was not its master； it owed him nothing； neither affection nor protection。 Stray dogs do not possess a sense of duty to strangers； do not have a moral perspective； a conscience。 What did this animal think it was； anyway…a freelance Lassie？
〃All right； all right；〃 Travis said； shaking the retriever loose and acpanying it to the sycamore arch。
The dog dashed ahead； along the ascending trail； which led up toward the canyon rim； through thinning trees and brighter light。
Travis paused at the sycamores。 Frowning； he looked across the sun…drenched clearing at the night…dark hole in the forest where the descending portion of the trail began。 What was ing？
The shrill cries of the cicadas cut off simultaneously； as if a phonograph needle was lifted from a recording。 The woods were preternaturally silent。
Then Travis heard something rushing up the lightless trail。 A scrabbling noise。 A clatter as of dislodged stones。 A faint rustle of dry brush。 The thing sounded closer than it probably was； for sound was amplified as it echoed up through the narrow tunnel of trees。 Nevertheless； the creature was ing fast。 Very fast。
For the first time； Travis sensed that he was in grave peril。 He knew that nothing in the woods was big or bold enough to attack him； but his intellect was overruled by instinct。 His heart hammered。
Above him； on the higher path； the retriever had bee aware of his hesitation。 It barked agitatedly。
Decades ago； he might have thought an enraged black bear was racing up the deer trail； driven mad by disease or pain。 But the cabin dwellers and weekend hikers…outriders of civilization…had pushed the few remaining bears much farther back into the Santa Anas。
From the sound of it； the unknown beast was within seconds of reaching the clearing between the lower and higher trails。
The length of Travis's spine； shivers tracked like melting bits of sleet trickling down a windowpane。
He wanted to see what the thing was； but at the same time he had gone cold with dread； a purely instinctive fear。
Farther up the canyon； the golden retriever barked urgently。
Travis turned and ran。
He was in excellent shape； not a pound overweight。 With the panting retriever leading； Travis tucked his arms close to his sides and sprinted up the deer trail； ducking under the few low…hanging branches。 The studded soles of his hiking boots gave good traction； he slipped on loose stones and on slithery layers of dry pine needles； but he did not fall。 As he ran through a false fire of flickering sunlight and shadow； another fire began to burn in his lungs。
Travis Cornell's life had been full of danger and tragedy； but he'd never flinched from anything。 In the worst of times； he calmly confronted loss； pain； and fear。 But now something peculiar happened。 He lost control。 For the first time in his life； he panicked。 Fear pried into him； touching a deep and primitive level where nothing had ever reached him before。 As he ran； he broke out in gooseflesh and cold sweat； and he did not know why the unknown pursuer should fill him with such absolute terror。
He did not look back。 Initially； he did not want to turn his eyes away from the twisting trail because he was afraid he would crash into a low branch。 But as he ran； his panic swelled； and by the time he had gone a couple of hundred yards； the reason he did not look back was because he was afraid of what he might see。
He knew that his response was irrational。 The prickly sensation along the back of his neck and the iciness in his gut were symptoms of a purely superstitious terror。 But the civilized and educated Travis Cornell had turned over the reins to the frightened child…savage that lives in every human being…the genetic ghost of what we once were…and he could not easily regain control even though he was aware of the absurdity of his behavior。 Brute instinct ruled； and instinct told him that he must run； run； stop thinking and just run。
Near the head of the canyon； the trail turned left and carved a winding course up the steep north wall toward the ridge。 Travis rounded a bend； saw a log lying across the path； jumped but caught one foot on the rotting wood。 He fell forward； flat on his chest。 Stunned； he could not get his breath； could not move。
He expected something to pounce on him and tear out his throat。
The retriever dashed back down the trail and leaped over Travis； landing sure…footedly on the path behind him。 It barked fiercely at whatever was chasing them； much more threateningly than when it had challenged Travis in the clearing。
Travis rolled over and sat up； gasping。 He saw nothing on the trail below。 Then he realized the retriever was not concerned about anything in that direction but was standing sideways on the trail； facing the underbrush in the forest to the east of them。 Spraying saliva； it barked stridently； so hard and loud that each explosive sound hurt Travis's ears。 The tone of savage fury in its voice was daunting。 The dog was warning the unseen enemy to stay back。
〃Easy boy；〃 Travis said softly。 〃Easy。〃
The retriever stopped barking but did not glance at Travis。 It stared intently into the brush； peeling its pebbly black lips off its teeth and growling deep in its throat。
Still breathing hard； Travis got to his feet and looked east into the woods。 Evergreens； sycamores； a few larches。 Shadows like swatches of dark cloth were fastened here and there by golden pins and needles of light。 Brush。 Briars。 Climbing vines。 A few well…worn toothlike formations of rock。 He saw nothing out of the ordinary。
When he reached down and put a hand upon the retriever's head； the dog stopped growling； as if it understood his intention。 Travis drew a breath； held it； and listened for movement in the brush。
The cicadas remained silent。 No birds sang in the trees。 The woods were as still as if the vast； elaborate clockwork mechanism of the universe had ceased ticking。
He was sure that he was not the cause of the abrupt silence。 His passage through the canyon had not previously disturbed either birds or cicadas。
Something wa