The Lunenburg Werewolf by Steve Vernon Page B

pick, and Nannette stayed at home to rock little Marie to sleep on the kitchen settee. When the child was sleeping comfortably, Nannette tucked her tight in her cradle and, picking up a basket of her own, decided to join Hans in the far woods.
    â€œWhere is the baby?” Hans asked.
    â€œAsleep in the house,” she told him.
    That knowledge seemed to spark Hans into great speed. His powerful fingers tore at the blueberry bushes, snatching berries as quickly as could be imagined. Nannette told herself that he must be worried about leaving their daughter alone in the cabin and that this sudden haste was a good sign. Perhaps she had been wrong in mistrusting his feelings. Perhaps he really loved their daughter.
    When Hans’s basket was full, he stood and turned. Nannette stood as well. “No,” he said, with a grin of his big white teeth. “Stay here and fill your basket. Later you can make us a pie. I will take my basket home, empty it, and return.”
    â€œWill you see to Marie?” Nannette asked hopefully.
    â€œI will see to the child,” Hans answered. And then he showed her his big white teeth a final time before turning his back on her and walking towards the cabin.
    Nannette continued to pick. It was good to be out here all by herself. Even the most doting mother grows a little weary tending constantly to the needs of a baby. Still, she began to worry. What could be keeping Hans? She told herself that he might be cooking supper. She told herself that he might be taking a nap. She told herself that he might be taking care of little Marie.
    She thought of his big white teeth, of a smile that was almost too large and too hungry for a man’s mouth. And then she turned and ran for the house.
    When she got there, she found no trace of life. The baby was gone and so was her husband. She looked about as much as she could before racing to a neighbouring farm, where she gasped out her story to a group of local farmhands.
    The men sprang into action, searching the house and fields for the child. They found Hans deep in the forest, beside a low gurgling brook. He sprang up at them with a fierce snarling cry, snapping at their throats and exposed hands.
    â€œHe seemed more beast than man,” one witness said.
    After they managed to tie him up, they found what was left of Marie.

    A Savage End
    Hans was locked in the Lunenburg jail. He spent the first night howling and baying like a caged wolf. The full moon, welling up over the town of Lunenburg, served only to infuriate this caged beast man. The town jailer feared for his own life.
    On the next afternoon the town officials met and decided Hans Gerhardt’s fate. It took very little time for the judge and jury to come to a decision. Hans Gerhardt was sentenced to be hanged.
    But the execution was doomed to failure. The next morning when the jailer opened the jailhouse door, he was horrified to find Hans lying in a pool of his own blood on the floor of the jail cell. Hans had used his strong white teeth to tear open the veins in both of his arms. The Lunenburg werewolf had met his final end.

The Capstick Bigfoot
    You will find the town of Capstick, originally known as Wreck Cove, on one of the most northern points of Cape Breton, just a few kilometres shy of Meat Cove. Capstick is a green place, with welcoming waters and a cove that is bordered by high, steep cliffs. If you stand on those cliffs and keep a sharp eye seaward, you may even spot a pod of whales swimming in the water. And if you keep an even sharper eye towards the forest and hills, you might catch yourself a peek of the Capstick Bigfoot.

    Big Ears and Big Feet
    Over the last century there have been many reported sightings of a gigantic humanoid with long shaggy fur in the forests around Capstick. The Mi’kmaq even have a word for this beast—they call it “Se’skwetew,” which literally translates to “one who screams loudly.”
    The Capstick