South Dakota NIghts

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The sun was sinking in the west when we pulled in the campground east of Mount Rushmore. We had spent most of the day at the National Historic site. Now it was time for a relaxing evening by the campfire after pitching the tent and preparing dinner.  We had picked the worst possible time to visit Mount Rushmore. I will never again visit this area of South Dakota during the great motorcycle rally in nearby Sturgis. The area is inundated with Harley-Davidsons. I don't have anything personal against bikers, but I do have a problem with someone cranking up a motorcycle six feet from my tent at three in the morning. Hopefully, we had left most of the two-wheelers behind when we entered this campground. Claudette was erecting the tent while I prepared the evening meal when I heard that deep throated rumble of a Harley.

"Guess what?" I said.

"I thought we left them at the KOA," she said.

"Well, tomorrow we'll be out of South Dakota.  If I never hear another motorcycle it'll be too soon," I said.

We were camped on a small clearing in the tall prairie grass. Our biker "friends" were some thirty feet away. We had salmon with rice and vegetables and a nice sauvignon blanc. Then, relaxing around the campfire, we watched the last rays of the western sun disappear. "Have you noticed it?" I asked.

"What?" said she.

"The silence," I responded with a smile.

"Oh, the silence; it's nice," she noted.

"Our biker 'friends' have turned in early," I said.

We sat in silence, each too much involved in our own thoughts to talk. The flames turned to glowing embers as the darkness crept upon us.

"What's that!" she said.

"Where?"

"Over there at the edge of the grass." There was concern in her voice.

I saw a pair of glowing orange eyes at the edge of the tall grass.
"Probably a house cat,"  I said reassuringly.

"It looks too tall!"

"Well, maybe, but I think it's a cat," I said.

"It's too tall.  It's three feet off the ground." Now her voice had a tinge of fear.

"You know our cat Sophie is a big kitty, and when she stretches out she's pretty tall." The assurance in my voice was not projecting well.

"Maybe it's a bear!" Now she really had fear in her voice, and she was moving closer to me.

"There are no bears around here. Could be a coyote though," I said, moving closer to her.

"Will they attack people?" She was now gripping my arm.

"No, not usually," I said, trying to be calm but remembering that if animals have rabies they will attack humans. "I'm sure it's nothing to be afraid of."

"Maybe a wolf, I remember what that Indian said about them in Wyoming." She was now pressed against me.

"I don't think they're wolves around here."

We watched in silence. Time drug by. We stared at the eyes in the dark.  I think we blinked our eyes maybe every five minutes. And then they were gone.  "Whatever it was is gone now.  Let's get some sleep," I said, but I wasn't sleepy.

"Is there room for both of us on your cot? I guess that's a silly question," She asked a question and answered it.

At breakfast we looked across the clearing to the place we had seen the glowing eyes the night before. There was a mound of dirt there about two and a half feet high. It may have been an old ant hill. "You know, I believe we say a common house cat sitting on top of the ant hill last night," I said.

"It was a wolf," she said with conviction.