Casey saw the dog move its head, so he knew it was alive. He could also see that tracks led from the animal back to where he had seen blood. The dog must be wounded.
Did I hit the dog with my first arrow?
No, that would have been impossible. The dog was too far from his house, too deep among the trees. His arrow could never reach here. But he had hit the raven, hadn’t he? And he hadn’t expected that. Maybe this dog had been closer to the house, been struck, and dragged itself here.
Did he shoot both creatures?
Moving cautiously, Casey drew closer. He had been taught that wounded animals could and would defend themselves furiously. And the ground was slippery.
He put his bow and three arrows on the ground but held on to one arrow—daggerlike—thinking he might need it to defend himself. Moving a little closer, he looked into the animal’s face.
“What happened to you, fella?” he asked, speaking in a low, soft voice. “You hurt?”
Nashoba raised his large head and gazed at Casey.
He’s alive, all right, thought Casey. Maybe I can help him.
As Casey looked back, the dog’s golden eyes seemed fierce—but maybe it was just pain he saw.
“You’re badly hurt, aren’t you, boy,” Casey said. “What happened? Did . . . I shoot you? Like that raven?”
Nashoba held his gaze.
“If I did,” said Casey, “I’m sorry. . . . I didn’t mean to do it. Want me to help you?”
Keeping his eyes fixed on the human, Nashoba lowered his head to the ground. His muscles tensed.
Casey saw the bloody paw. He stared. It didn’t seem like an arrow wound. But was that why the dog was here?
“I didn’t do that, did I, big guy? Did you step in a trap? Someone else get you?” he asked. “You hurting?”
Nashoba, unblinking, measured the human’s nearness.
Casey wiped rainwater from his face. “Do you want some food?” he said. “Some water to drink?”
The thought occurred to him that the dog might have a collar with tags that would identify an owner.
He moved a few steps closer.
Nashoba bared his teeth and growled. Casey halted, stepped back. “That’s okay, fella. I understand.”
For a few moments Casey stared at the dog, trying to decide what to do.
“Okay,” he said. “I know I shouldn’t have killed that raven. But I can help you, buddy. Stay here,” he said, as if giving a command. “Stay! I’ll get you some food and water. Stay!”
Snatching up his bow and arrows, he ran back toward his house.