Now the witch got up from the ground and straightened herself. Her demeanor had changed; there was no longer a smile on her face. She snapped her fingers and pointed down and the dog immediately returned to its place by her side. She pivoted and started off briskly as though someone had called to her from across the field, and the dog followed close beside. At the southeast corner of the unexcavated area she stopped and turned, facing the open field. She waited until the dog took a sitting position, then snapped her fingers and dropped her arm to her side. The dog seemed to tense, anticipating something—then the witch made a motion like someone tossing a horseshoe and the dog took off like a shot.

The dog moved quickly at first, darting back and forth just as Bosco had done—but after a few moments she began to slow down, and the area that seemed to interest her became smaller and smaller. The witch walked along beside the dog, circling her, studying her, bending down or squatting from time to time to get a better look at the dog’s face. Less than five minutes passed before the dog slowed to a standstill. She lowered her head and sniffed at an area no more than one square foot in size—and then lay down.

The witch immediately called the dog away from the area and pointed again at the ground by her side. When the dog returned to its sitting position she waited a few seconds, then made that tossing motion again. The dog quickly retraced her steps, sniffed at the same area, and lay down again. The witch knelt down in front of the dog and studied her face. She held up both hands and made a shrugging motion, as if she were asking the dog for some sort of confirmation; the dog didn’t move. Then Alena broke into an ecstatic grin, as if she had just learned that she won the Virginia lottery—and she pulled the dog on top of her again and they again began to play.

After a few minutes she stood up and looked across the field at Nick. “Are you expecting me to remember where they all are?”

Bingo! “Hang on a minute—I’ll be right there.”

Nick ran to the tech tent and grabbed a handful of wire flags, then hurried across the field to the witch and her dog. “Where?” he asked.

“Where she was lying.”

“Are you sure?”

One dark eye glared at him from behind the curtain of hair.

“Right.” Nick pushed a flag into the ground to mark the spot—it felt so good. “Good work—keep going.”

“I will, as soon as you get out of the way.”

“Sorry, I forgot—the distracting scent.”

“You’re not distracting her,” she said. “You’re annoying me.”