Chapter Two

After lunch the girls walked down to the gas station for ice cream. Mrs. McKay insisted that Tyler walk with them, though Cricket secretly thought he would attract more cougars than he scared away. The bell above the gas-station door jangled as Cricket opened it.

“Hi, kids.” Pat Watson was a tall man with a booming voice. He had owned the only gas station in Waterton for twenty-two years. In the summer he rented bicycles, mopeds and fishing rods to tourists. For the rest of the year townsfolk stopped at the gas station to chat and maybe pick up a new shovel or puzzle or ice-fishing line.

Today the wrangler from the stables was at the counter, buying a bag of beef jerky and chatting with Pat.

“Hi, Mr. Watson. Hi, Mr. Garrin,” Cricket said. She and Shilo moved to the ice-cream cooler. Tyler stopped to check out the model-airplane kits on the top shelf, behind the camp stoves.

Mr. Garrin continued their conversation as Pat handed him his change. “I’m not really surprised,” he said. “There was a cougar that caused some trouble around town in the seventies.”

The bell jangled, and everyone looked toward the door. A young man entered the garage, nodded to Pat and continued to the back of the store. He was dressed like most hikers and skiers who visited Waterton, with insulated pants and a warm coat, wearing a red, blue and white Montreal Canadiens knit hat on his head.

“There have been some signs around the corrals,” Mr. Garrin said. “Something’s been stirring up the horses at night, spooking ’em.”

Cricket nudged Shilo with her elbow. She watched the young man, who was frowning as he carried a bottle of kerosene to the counter.

“If you don’t mind my asking,” he said, “did you see what spooked the horses?”

Mr. Garrin shook his head. “Nah. It was too sneaky. It was brown though. Or maybe black. Too small for a bear.”

“Did you find any tracks?”

“Nope. The horses stirred up the snow. It had to be a cougar. What else could it be?”

Pat held out a receipt for the kerosene. “It’s got to be a cougar, right, Jeremy?”

The young man shrugged slowly and said goodbye. He put the receipt in his pocket and headed out the door.

Jeremy! He was the university researcher studying Waterton’s cougars! Cricket’s dad had mentioned the project the previous month and had seemed impressed with the equipment the team was using. Cricket jabbed Shilo with her elbow again.

“Ouch! Stop doing that!”

“Come on!”

Pushing Shilo ahead of her, Cricket dragged Tyler out of the store with them.

“Mr. Bowman, wait!” Cricket called. “Do you really think it could be a cougar?”

The man turned and raised his eyebrows.

“We found some evidence this morning,” she said, gesturing to Shilo.

He smiled. “Call me Jeremy. You’re Warden McKay’s daughter, aren’t you? You found the dead deer cached in the schoolyard?”

Cricket nodded and introduced herself and Shilo and Tyler. “I’ve lived here all my life, and I’ve never seen a cougar,” she said.

“Cougars are pretty shy, but they are out there. I’ll have to check the signals of all the collared cats and see where they are.”

“You put collars on the cougars?” Shilo’s voice squeaked. “Isn’t that dangerous?”

Jeremy smiled again. “It could be dangerous, but I have lots of help. The collars have radio transmitters that help me keep track of each cougar. I’m researching how far cougars travel in their range.” He looked down the street. “I’m heading back to my cabin now. Are you three walking my way?”

Before Shilo could protest that they hadn’t bought their ice cream, Cricket nodded and fell into step beside Jeremy. This was their chance to learn more about the cougar!