to do exactly that. Should be arriving in a few days."
"A few days? What the hell are we supposed to do until then?"
"What I done told you to do," Cora said. "Get yourself some silver bullets and fire."
The marshal's fury waned a little. "You were right about that. I'll say that much."
Cora nodded. "Tell me what happened."
"Me and George Murray were settling a fight down at the Pioneer when we heard a scream from out in the street," Duggan said. "We ran outside to see this spindly-looking thing lurking about in the shadows. Somebody screamed again, and we saw it was a woman in the thing's hands. That scream was the last sound she ever made before the creature bit her head right off. The rest of her body was quick enough to follow it down that thing's gullet. Hell, we didn't even get a chance to fire before she was all ate up."
Duggan paused for a moment to gather his wits. The memory still unsettled him. Not even a grizzly could have killed the woman so quickly. This monster, this wendigo, was far more savage than he ever imagined any creature could be. He could still hear the woman's screams and see her blood on the creature's jaws as it devoured her whole. Those images had even worked their way into his dreams, and he was not a man given to nightmares.
He took a deep breath. "By that time, me and George was dug in by the saloon. George had his rifle handy, and I had my pistol. Between the two of us, we put enough holes in that thing to bring down half the Cheyenne nation, but we might as well have been pissing on it for all the good we did. Jack Evans even came up and helped out, but it still wasn't no good." The marshal paused again. "I've been a lawman for a good number of years now, but I ain't never seen such a thing. That bastard done swept up my deputies and made to eat them both when I recalled what you said about the fire. I humped it into the Pioneer and pulled out a handy pair of burning logs from the fire. By the time I got back out, George had already been ate and Jack was staring down its gullet. I waved the fire at it, and it made tracks right quick. Once it cleared out, Jack and I scouted out the rest of town, but it must have run on back to its cave."
Cora took a minute to ponder the news. "Well, marshal, I have to say I'm impressed. I never figured you for facing down the wendigo like that."
"Did what I had to," Duggan replied, surprised by the compliment. "Damn thing was fixing to eat my men, and you wasn't around to stop it."
"Won't say I'm sorry I wasn't," Cora said. "You routed it well enough, and what we learned in Denver was well worth the people that got ate."
Duggan's temper flared. "George Murray was a right fine deputy, little missie. I won't have you or anyone else say he wasn't."
"Never said no such thing," Cora said, holding up her hands. "All I said was that our trip to see Father Baez was worth his life. You see, while George was getting ate, we was learning how his killer could be killed."
"So it can die." The marshal's eyes lit up with vengeance. "What's the trick?"
"Well, seems this wendigo is an Indian monster."
"Indians?" Duggan asked. "There ain't been any Indian threat in these parts for years. They trying an uprising of some sort?"
Cora shook her head. "No, they didn't cause it or call it into being or nothing. They're just the ones who know what it is and how to lick it."
"Which Indians? The Utes?"
"No, some tribe back East. Father Baez had to send out a telegram to his friends in Boston, and they told him the whole story on the wendigo."
"So how can it be killed?"
"Well, as I said before, silver and fire are weak spots, but to put it to rest proper, the silver needs the blessing of an Indian shaman."
Duggan's shoulders slumped. "We ain't got one, and I can't imagine any of the local tribes would be too willing to loan us one."
"Don't you worry your head about that," Cora said. "The priest in Boston's agreed to settle the whole matter for us. He'll be sending out some silver bullets blessed by one of the tribes