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Ferguson’s head swiveled when he heard the deep grunt of the funny-antler-thing, which sounded like a gravelly, “Mornin.”

Ferguson stared at him for a long time.

“Enjoy your sleep, bucko?” Ferguson said, with more than a twinge of sarcasm in his voice.

This wierdo is gonna slow us all down. He can’t really fend for himself, and if a bear or mountain lion comes out from nowhere, who’s gonna protect him? Not me.