The Legend of the Howling Werewolf

by Gertrude Chandler Warner

  “It must have been quite a sight,” Grandfather said.

  “Oh, yes, I wish we could have witnessed it,” Mrs. Riley said. “Anyway, this is the website I created with Mayor Chang. You’ll meet her this weekend, children. Here we are. But look at this upsetting rumor.” She scrolled down to the comments.

  Benny leaned close. “I think I can read this,” he said.

  “Go for it,” Mrs. Riley said. She scooted along the bench so Benny could sit beside her. The others stood close enough to see for themselves.

  “‘Beware…Danger,’” Benny began, sounding out the words. His eyes grew wide. “Are we in danger?”

  “I sure hope not,” Henry said. He peered at the screen and continued reading. “‘A mysterious event has occurred over the past months during each full moon. In the middle of the night, a person has been seen dashing along the ridge that overlooks town. Then, at the break in the trees, the moonlight is bright.’”

  Henry exchanged a worried look with Jessie. “This is spooky,” she said. She stood behind her brother and looked over his shoulder. “‘In the moonlight,’” Jessie read, “‘the figure bends down. And after a moment, it lets out a whimper, like a groan. When the figure stands back up, it has the head of a wolf, and it staggers until it is out of sight.’”

  Benny went to the kitchen window and looked out into the night. Turning back to his family he said, “A real werewolf? I hope we see it!”

  “Let’s check the other comments,” said Henry. He scrolled down and kept reading. “‘Whoever the werewolf is, he or she hikes into the foothills before the moon rises, to transform in secret. Then during daylight, the shape-shifter comes back to town like a normal person who lives here. As if nothing happened.’”

  “But werewolves are just a myth,” said Jessie.

  “That’s right,” said Grandfather. “Legends of werewolves have been around for a very long time. People use them to try to explain things they don’t understand. But there has never been anything to suggest that werewolves actually exist.”

  A ding came from the computer. There was a new comment on the website. “Uh-oh,” Violet said. “Mrs. Riley, this person says the festival must be canceled immediately. ‘The threat of the werewolf is even greater during a harvest moon.’”

  “This is what worries me,” Mrs. Riley said. “People checking the website are going to see this. It would be terrible if it kept families from enjoying a fun weekend. Mayor Chang and I were hoping the festival would bring more tourists to our community.”

  Henry noticed the motel and restaurant ads on the website. “I get it now,” he said. “Visitors will spend money while they’re here. It will help Townsend.”

  “You’re exactly right, Henry,” Mrs. Riley said.

  “If tourists are afraid to come,” Henry added, “it will hurt the town.”

  “Right again,” Mrs. Riley said. She went to the pantry and pulled out things for dinner. She handed Grandfather six salad bowls for the table. “I don’t know about you folks, but all this worrying makes me hungry,” she said.

  “Me too!” shouted Benny.

  While their host prepared dinner, the children set the table. They poured glasses of water. As Jessie folded a paper napkin by each plate, she paused to look up. “Mrs. Riley,” she said, “I’m curious. What is a harvest moon?”

  “Is it different than a regular moon?” Benny asked.

  “And what does it have to do with werewolves?” Violet asked.

  Henry said, “It sounds like someone is trying to sabotage the festival, Mrs. Riley. I wonder why.”

  Mrs. Riley gave the children a caring look. Then she turned to Grandfather and said, “I really like how your grandchildren think about things and ask questions. You must be very proud of them, James.”

  He smiled. “I certainly am.”

  “All right then,” said Mrs. Riley. “A harvest moon happens in the fall, during something called the autumnal equinox. For several nights in a row, the moon rises near sunset. Those nights are extra bright, because it seems like there are full moons multiple nights in a row.”

  The Alden children listened with interest.

  Mrs. Riley explained further. “Here in Idaho an abundance of moonlight right after sunset helps farmers harvest the summer crops. It’s a nice boost before winter snows arrive.”

  The good aromas of dinner filled the warm kitchen. “Almost ready,” Mrs. Riley said. She gave Henry a big bowl of salad and a bottle of dressing to put on the table. “Any more questions before we dig in?”

  Benny raised his hand like he was in school. “Are there wolves around here?” he asked. “I mean real ones.”

  “They are in more mountainous country,” she said. “We have coyotes, but they tend to stay away from town. They sound different too. Coyotes yip in high voices. Wolves howl.”

  “Do they scare you?” Jessie asked.

  “Sometimes, yes,” she answered. “Their cries sound haunting. But wolves and other scavengers are our friends. They clean up the desert. They keep the deer population from getting too big. That means there are more flowers and brush for smaller animals to eat. Are you kids worried?”

  The children shook their heads.

  “That’s good,” Mrs. Riley said. She pulled a casserole from the oven. She set it on the table with a large serving spoon. “Here you go, everyone. I’m glad you’re here.”

  That night the children woke to a noise outside their window. Something was rustling and snapping twigs.

  “Shhh,” Henry whispered. He shined his flashlight around the den where they had unrolled their sleeping bags.

  “Maybe it’s the werewolf,” Benny whispered. “Let’s go look. Watch will protect us.”

  “Benny, there’s no such thing,” said Jessie.

  Quietly the children slipped on their shoes and socks. They tiptoed down the hallway and paused at the great room, where Grandfather slept on a foldout couch. He was snoring loudly.

  Jessie put her finger to her lips. They passed Mrs. Riley’s room. Even Watch was quiet, though he wagged his tail, excited for an adventure. His ears were alert.

  In the kitchen, the children zipped on their sweatshirts over their pajamas. The door creaked as they let themselves outside. Their breaths made frost in the cold night air. Moonlight spread over the mountains.

  “It’s so bright out,” Henry said. He barely needed his flashlight to see. But he kept it on just in case.

  The children crept along a path that led to a field. At the edge of the yard, they looked back at the house. The windows were dark except for a tiny glow from the kitchen clock. “Everyone’s still asleep,” said Jessie. “Let’s be careful. Benny, stay close to me, please. I don’t want you to stumble.”

  Benny grabbed Jessie’s free hand. She held Watch’s leash with the other. The terrier wiggled and lunged forward. He seemed to smell something up ahead. Henry led the way with Violet hiding behind him. The children stepped cautiously up the hill.

  Suddenly Watch began a low growl. He cocked his head, listening, then pulled at his leash again. Sounds of scurrying and scratching came from within clumps of sagebrush.

  Just as Henry bent down to look, a thunder of beating wings came from the bushes. The children jumped back, and a bird with a puffy white chest fluttered up and away. Then two more followed it into the moonlit sky.

  Watch barked and started to run after the birds. Jessie held tight to his collar. “No, boy,” she said. “We don’t want you to hurt them.”

  The children were quiet for a moment as the birds flew away.

  Then Violet said, “Those birds looked like the ones we saw on the sign coming into town. With the same pointed tail feathers.”

  “I guess we just saw our first sage grouse,” Henry said. “Up close and personal.”

  Jessie looked toward the dark house. “We better get back,” she said, “before Grandfather wakes up and worries about us. Plus, I feel weird that we’re walking around in our pj’s.”


  Benny sighed. In the moonlight the others could see his frown. “You look disappointed,” Henry said.

  “I was hoping we’d see the werewolf,” Benny said.

  “Maybe we’ll find more clues tomorrow,” Henry said. “And maybe we’ll see a sleeping volcano. Would you like that?”

  Benny grinned.

  Back in the kitchen the children hung up their sweatshirts. They got drinks of water and brushed their teeth, because they’d forgotten to earlier. At last they settled into their sleeping bags. The room was dark, except for moonlight shining through a window. It made a patch of square light on the floor.

  “I can’t sleep,” said Jessie.

  “I’m wide awake,” said Benny. Just for fun, he shined his flashlight around the room, making scary shadows.

  Violet lay with her eyes open. She was still tense from seeing the sage grouse fly out of the bushes. “What if there really is a werewolf?” she asked.

  “Don’t worry, Violet,” said Henry. “Even if there were, we’d be safe with Grandfather and Mrs. Riley. And besides, Watch won’t let anything happen to us.”

  At the sound of his name, Watch lifted his head. Violet stroked his back to calm him down, and before long they were both fast asleep.

  Odd Shoes

  The next morning the children found a note on the kitchen table. “Help yourselves to cereal, toast, and fruit,” Mrs. Riley had written. “Your grandfather and I will be at the festival grounds. Come join us. It’s just a few blocks away.” She had drawn a map.

  After clearing their breakfast dishes, the Aldens grabbed their daypacks. Prepared for a long day, they brought sweatshirts and water bottles. Jessie liked to have her notebook and pen handy. She also carried a little bag of doggie treats. Violet brought her camera. Its strap was purple, her favorite color. As the children walked toward town, Watch trotted ahead, his head high. The terrier was energized by the cool autumn air.

  Along the way, they passed a row of cottages. One of the yards had the remains of a summer garden. Squash and green beans hung from a trellis with small pumpkins. A man was clipping the yellowed vines and filling a wheelbarrow when he saw the children. He was tall and skinny with dark skin and black hair.

  “Hello, there,” he said. “You’re visiting, right? My name is Daniel.”

  The Aldens introduced themselves. Benny said, “We have a garden like yours at home. Do you need any help?”

  “That’s nice of you to offer,” Daniel said, “but no thanks. I’m almost done here. Say, I heard you kids had a run-in last night with some sage grouse.”

  The children glanced at one another. “How did you know that?” Henry asked.

  “Mrs. Riley told me earlier this morning,” Daniel answered. “Whenever she drives by, she rolls down her window to say hello. We’re old friends.”

  Again the children exchanged glances. “But we never told Mrs. Riley,” said Jessie. “We didn’t even tell our grandfather.”

  Daniel went over to his pumpkins. He began twisting the ripe ones from their stems and putting them in a basket. He avoided looking at the children.

  Henry waited for an explanation, but then spoke up. “How did you find out about last night?” he asked.

  Finally Daniel faced the children. “All right, all right,” he said. “I’m a biologist. I love the beauty and wild nature of the sage grouse, especially in the moonlight. Anyway, last night I was out walking.”

  “Is that when you saw us?” Violet said.

  “Yes,” Daniel said. “When your dog growled, the birds flew out of the bushes. I rushed over to look. It’s not often we see them around here anymore.”

  “Why is that?” Benny asked.

  Daniel pointed to an empty lot down the street. A rumbling tractor was plowing up the dirt. “See over there?” he said. “People are moving to Townsend because it’s so peaceful here. They build new homes and mini farms. But the noise they create scares away the deer and elk. The torn-up soil destroys dens for the pygmy rabbits. It chases voles into our neighborhoods.”

  “Do you mean moles?” Benny asked.

  “Not quite,” Daniel said. “Moles eat insects, like worms. Voles are much smaller and look like mice. They eat seeds and the roots of flowers and vegetables. They practically destroyed my garden last year. I don’t mind if voles stay out in the wild.”

  “So the bulldozers are messing up the habitat?” Henry said. “That’s sad.”

  “Yes, it is,” Daniel said. “That’s why the sage grouse are disappearing. The vegetation is important for their survival. Songbirds also use the branches for nesting. As you can guess, cement driveways and patios cover up the sagebrush. Forever.”

  “I feel sorry for the animals,” Jessie said. “Especially the little ones.”

  “So do I.” Daniel continued talking to them as he pushed his wheelbarrow to a compost pile. He tipped it to dump out the twigs and leaves he had clipped. “The city council wants to devote more land to new housing and to farmers,” he said. “Our town is struggling financially, so this would bring in more money. But that means more noisy equipment and plowed earth. These developments will destroy brush that shelters the beautiful grouse. Maybe you’ve noticed our street signs have symbols of these birds?”

  The children nodded. They had noticed them when they came into town the day before.

  “I’m sorry to go on and on,” Daniel said. “I’m just frustrated. Some of the people around here call me a conservationist, like it’s a bad thing. But it’s not.”

  “What’s a conservationist?” Benny asked.

  “Someone who tries to protect the environment,” Violet answered. “Like the forests and the animals, even the desert.”

  “Take this chicken coop for instance,” Daniel said. He walked over to a big pen on wheels. Clucking hens and chicks scurried inside as he rolled the pen to a fresh patch of grass. “I don’t use chemicals or pesticides. These free-range chickens lay beautiful, healthy eggs.”

  “That is really cool,” Jessie said.

  “I’m glad you think so too,” Daniel said. “Well, it’s been nice talking to you kids. Time to get back to my chores. See you around.”

  The children walked on. Violet said, “Daniel seems to really care about animals.”

  “He does,” Henry said. “But it is strange that he was out last night.”

  “Oh! I have an idea,” said Benny. “What if Daniel is the werewolf? What if he was out hunting for a snack last night, like a sage grouse?”

  “There is no such thing as werewolves, Benny,” said Jessie. “Maybe he really was studying the birds when he spotted us.”

  Benny crossed his arms. “I still think my idea is good,” he said.

  “It is strange that he lied about seeing us,” said Henry. “Why would he do that?”

  The children stopped in the road to look back at Daniel. He was bent over pushing his wheelbarrow.

  “That’s a really good question,” said Jessie, writing in her notebook. “We need to figure out why.”

  The Aldens arrived at a large park with picnic tables and a playground. Grandfather was hammering a sign into the dirt. It said Harvest Festival This Weekend. Everyone Welcome.

  “Hello, children,” Grandfather said. “You’re just in time. Henry, you’re good at fixing things.” Grandfather nodded toward a puddle of mud below a leaky water fountain. “I can’t seem to stop the dripping.”

  Henry leaned down to look at the problem. “Oh, it’s the faucet,” he said. “It just needs a new washer. Where can I find some tools?”

  “Check over there,” Grandfather said. He motioned toward a table with a toolbox and some art supplies on it.

  While Henry worked on the fountain, the others explored the park. Nearby, a freshly painted poster glistened in the sunlight. The letters were still wet: Fun Run—Start Here. A woman in jogging pants and a slim shirt was unwinding a rope of flags. A big gray and white dog lay in the grass beside her. He was on a leash. But when Watch came
wagging up to the dog, it growled. It lunged at Watch, barking and barking.

  “No, Kamu, no!” the woman said.

  “Is he dangerous?” Benny asked.

  “Not at all,” the woman said. “Kamu is really quite sweet, but he is very protective of me. I’m terribly sorry he startled you. I’m Ellen, by the way.”

  The Aldens told Ellen their names. Violet said, “Our grandfather is putting up signs. Is there anything we can help you with?”

  “Actually, yes,” Ellen said. “I’m organizing a fun run. Here, Benny, you can take this end of the rope. We need to make the finish line.”

  “I’m on it!” Benny said.

  “And here you go, girls.” Ellen handed Violet and Jessie two poles with yellow flags. “The finish line is over there, by the volleyball nets. Just plant them in the sand.”

  “Okay. First, can I give Kamu a little treat?” Jessie asked. She loved meeting other people’s pets.

  “Sure. I appreciate you asking. Here, Kamu, sit.” Ellen unclipped his leash. With a cautious step, he ambled over to Watch. Then came friendly, wagging tails as Kamu and Watch touched noses.

  “They like each other!” Benny said.

  “Sometimes it takes a while,” Ellen said. “He was rescued from the dog pound. He’s a malamute. This summer, campers found him by Lost River, soaking wet and scared.”

  “Oh, Kamu,” the children said, bending down to pet him.

  “I think that’s why he’s so timid,” Ellen said. “Even though malamutes are a courageous breed, Kamu’s afraid to get his paws wet. We think he almost drowned in the river.”

  “That would make me afraid,” said Jessie.

  “Watch was a lost dog too,” Benny said. “When we first saw him he was limping. Jessie found a thorn in his paw and pulled it out.”

  While petting Kamu, Violet noticed Ellen’s shoes. They looked like gloves. There was a place for each toe. “I’ve never seen shoes like that before,” she said. “Are they slippers?”

  Ellen smiled. “I know. They are odd looking. They’re called toe shoes,” she said. “I bought them at the running store. They’re more comfortable than my sneakers and weigh less. It’s like going barefoot, but with more protection.”