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east of the mighty Mississippi River into the unknown realm beyond.
    Often, Shakespeare relived those wonderful days in his mind’s eye. He saw again his first grizzly, witnessed the passage of his first nigh-endless herd ofbuffalo, set eyes again for the first time on the towering ramparts that would become his home for the rest of his life.
    The thing in the lake was another first. It was new; it was different; it was unknown. Shakespeare had heard all the Indians’ accounts. But he had never beheld any of the creatures that spawned those accounts. Now he had his chance.
    Shakespeare was not one of those whites who doubted everything Indians said on general principle. Some whites refused to believe anything Indians told them simply because they were Indians. A prominent man of the cloth had been quoted in the newspapers as stating that those of the red race were inveterate heathens and liars. Heathens, because they did not believe in the white God. Liars, because anyone who did not believe in the white God was incapable of being true in anything.
    Shakespeare had chuckled when he read it. It was just plain silly. From his own experience, Shakespeare knew that most Indians viewed with low regard anyone who talked with two tongues. Honesty and truthfulness were highly esteemed.
    So when Indians told Shakespeare about the early times, about the days when the land was overrun by many strange and fearsome beasts, he listened. He had poked fun at Blue Water Woman, but he did not doubt for a minute that her tribe, and many others, believed their legends to be true, and every legend had its kernel of truth.
    King Valley, as Shakespeare did not mind calling it, since Nate was the one who came up with the idea of moving there, had long been known as bad medicine by the Crows and the Utes. The valley was a throwback to the old times. It was said that something lived up near the glacier that fed runoff into the lake. It was also whispered that the lake itself was the haunt of something . Both somethings were said to be from the time long ago, and best avoided.
    Now, after repeated puzzling and bizarre incidents, Shakespeare would very much like to know what the something in the lake was.
    For more than a week, he and Nate kept watch from the steeple every chance they got, sometimes together, sometimes singly. They had made a bench where they could sit in relative comfort and scan the lake through Nate’s spyglass.
    Shakespeare was proud of the steeple. It had taken a lot of sweat to build. They only had enough planks to make it ten feet high, but combined with the height of the cabin, their new vantage afforded them a sweeping view of the lake, which was exactly what they needed.
    The morning after they built it, Shakespeare took Blue Water Woman up the stairs and bid her sit on the seat and admire the view. Not only could they see more of the lake, but more of the valley, too.
    Breathtaking to behold, the glory of creation unfolded before them in all its spectacular splendor.
    Blue Water Woman sat and gazed quietly to the east, north, west, and south. Then she smiled in that mild manner she had, and said, “I like this. Your steeple is still silly, but I like this.”
    Shakespeare made a show of clearing his throat. “You made all that fuss for nothing.”
    â€œThis will be a good place to come and sip tea when I want to get away from you.”
    Shakespeare started to laugh, then caught himself, and thought it prudent to show some indignation.“Shall quips and sentences and paper bullets of the brain awe a man from the career of his humor?”
    â€œDo you know,” Blue Water Woman said, “that I have heard there are wives whose husbands talk plainly and simply and do not quote an old, moldy book every time they open their mouth?”
    â€œMy book is not moldy!” Shakespeare took immediate offense. “This is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying