"Okay," Perry said, sighing, "the guy ate the heads raw. There he was, his leg all busted up from fighting the grizzly bear… "

"I thought you said it was his arm," Flynn interrupted.

"Damn!" Perry exploded. "Will you just let me tell the frigging story?"

"It's more believable if you get the details right," Junior said.

"Fine," Perry growled. "This guy has a busted arm, and he's just discovered he's got a busted leg."

"A busted arm," Flynn said doubtfully, "and he's rubbing two sticks together that weren't somehow covered over during this blizzard."

"Hey, I'm just telling this how I heard it," Perry protested.

"Get back to the head-eating part," Junior said. "We're right there with you for that."

Michael pulled his marshmallows out of the fire and blew the flames from the toasted brown sides. He waited just a moment, then popped them into his mouth, tasting the almost too-hot gooey goodness.

Perry elaborated on the cannibalism aspects of the story, lingering over the details till Flynn and Junior started to look green in the sudden lightning flashes. The cracking of skulls and scooping out what was inside seemed to do the trick.

Across the campfire Tiller stood and walked off into the brush. Lightning flickered and lit him up in still shots out of the darkness three times, then he was gone from sight.

"In the spring when he returned to the tribe," Perry said, "other warriors traveled to the mountain pass to bury the dead guys. Sent them on to the happy hunting ground so their spirits wouldn't get trapped here in this world."

"So those guys found out what Head-Eater had been doing all winter?" Flynn said.

Perry nodded, but by now his heart clearly wasn't in the story. "There were cracked skulls lying around everywhere, looking like shelled pecans. Head-Eater tried to pass off what had happened as the work of the grizzly, but the other warriors knew. They kicked him out of the tribe."