Sarah has just found the dugout of a fur trader and is investigating.

The door opened easily as Sarah pushed it gently inward.  Light sprang instantly through the opening chasing away some of the darkness.  There was a pile of furs heaped along one wall; a table and two chairs that were far from being crude and a large fireplace on the far end of the room.  The only sound that Sarah could hear was the sound of her own breathing.  

She stood unmoving for what seemed an eternity.  Nothing moved, there was not a breath of air, there was not a hint of sound.  Sarah called out, not really expecting an answer, but if someone was there, at least they would know that she was not trying to sneak up on them.  Well, at least now that she was here, she wasn’t trying to sneak any more.  Right now she just wanted anyone who was inside to know that she came in peace.  Who was she trying to kid; she wasn’t much of a threat to anyone.  Realizing that whoever was inside, if anybody, may not speak English, Sarah decided to call out a greeting in Dutch.

Still there was nothing; nothing but nerve racking, hair-raising quiet.  Sarah stuck her head in the door, took a quick look along the wall next to the door and moved back out again. There was nothing.  Moving quietly and slowly, she pushed the door fully open; nobody was hiding behind it.  Feeling more apprehensive than ever, Sarah inched into the room; then she slowly pivoted to look all around.

As she turned her back on the pile of furs, Sarah sensed movement or maybe she heard a whisper of sound.  What ever alerted her, she turned just in time to see the pile of furs explode into an Indian; then the Indian was jumping right at her.

What do you suppose happens next? I hope you are curious enough to read the rest of the story.

Bill