"He's the second best river guide when he's drunk."  The older fat lady said.  "He's the first best when he's sober, although I don't remember the last time he was."

The two women waded in the chest deep water behind the guide.  The younger female looked back upstream at short intervals.  She nervously altered her attention among the rocky stream bed, the drunk guide, and the direction of her pursuers who were not visible by now.

"Hold there."  The guide whispered as he reached into the wet knapsack slung over his shoulder.  His sling buzzed as it spun twice and then quietly popped as he released the projectile.  "Supper."  He deftly dispatched the muskrat and swept it into the knapsack.  "Le'ss go."

Both women were silent.  The plump older woman felt strong emotions for the man; feelings that she thought had been extinguished years ago.  Loving memories.  Admiration.  The younger woman felt disgust; for the killing of an animal, for the thought of consuming that animal, and mostly she disgusted the man himself.  He was not handsome.  His brows were heavy with dark circled, heavily bagged eyes underneath.  Though he hadn't shaved his face in nearly two years, his facial hair was patchy and an unappealing shade of brownish blonde.  His nose was of the same proportions of a normal black man; he was quite tan but obviously white.  His mouth never opened wide enough to reveal all of his front teeth, which all seemed larger than usual.  He had an obvious wiry musculature in his six and a half foot frame, but it was overshadowed by his alcohol swollen belly.  

He spoke low, "Go on up dat, uh, right creek deal there uh you'll prolly see da' path. Jess wait on da' upshtream shide."

The plump woman obeyed immediately and strode quickly into the tributary.  The younger one stared incredulously at the man, hesitated, and finally followed the big lady.  She was surprised and embarassed at how much faster the fat woman traversed the rocky terrain.  They struggled for an hour and a half jogging up the creek until they finally found the path with which it intersected.  They waited for only a few minutes before the guide appeared as dusk was falling.

"Why are you coming from upstream?  Did you not lead them to a fake trail?"  The fat woman was obviously perturbed.  "What the hell are you doin'?  They'll folla ya back here."

"Ah took care of 'em."  He spoke with no emotion.  "There 'as six of 'em.  Had alotta booze.  Good whiskey too."  He reached into the knapsack and pulled out four large flasks.  The man took a tiny sip out of each one before choosing one to empty.  The younger woman was surprised by how quickly he draink the liquid of the twelve ounce container.  Without a grimace from the 100 proof liquor, the man turned and motioned the women to follow him farther up the small tributary.

"Thish 'un's Ott Creek.  We're goin' ta Ott Cave."  He pointed upstream.  "Th'ain't no water up there thish time a year."

The trio followed the intermittent stream farther uphill until the bed of rocks was completely dry.

"I got shome stuff in 'ere ya can use. Ya'll needa git some rest."  He pointed to a cave that neither woman had noticed.

As the women crounched into the small grotto, they both noticed the fire that the man had quickly assembled.  They found towels and blankets in the cave's interior' with these, they both dried off and wrapped themselves in dry blankets.  The young woman felt uneasy being naked underneath the strange man's blanket, but followed the older woman's example by disrobing and setting her wet clothes out to dry by the man's new fire.  The cold iron smell of the skinned muskrat filled her nose and mouth and she nearly vomited.  The man seemed not to notice as he cut chunks off the flanks of the animal and dropped them into a small pot near the fire.  He quickly sraped the hide and broke open the skull so that he could use the brain to soften and cure the skin.  The young woman stared in spite of herself at the man's knife which quickly and seemingly effortlessly performed these tasks.  She thought of how innocuous it had seemed earlier in the day.  She wondered if the same knife had been used to kill the men who followed her.  Disgust again filled her mind.

"There's plenty hon.  Ya need to eat."  The fat lady pleaded softly.

"No thanks.  Not hungry."

"I understand hon.  It's gonna be alright."

The man shook the pot from time to time for the next several minutes.  It was a stainless steel pot held directly over the hottest coals, yet the heat of the handle didn't seem to bother the man.

"Close enough."  The man offered the meat to both women. 

The fat woman chose a dozen pieces for herself.  The man ate a large chunk of muskrat meat, then drained another flask.  The young woman ate nothing.  He gathered more firewood before collapsing a foot from the fire.  

The women watched.

"Let's sleep, hon."  The fat woman yawned.