Joseph Olivier, a white Cajun boy dug into a tree hole with his knife, while his two friends, Louis Brossard, a Negro and Peter Petchylnn, a Choctaw Indian watched on an early April morning in 1865 in Lafourche Crossing near Bayou Lafourche in Louisiana. "Tell me again, Joseph, why are we doing this? Shouldn't we be watching out for Union patrols?" Joseph sighed. "This is why I'm doing this. I'm trying to retrieve the heirlooms that the Confederate soldiers concealed before they went into battle." Joseph pulled out an old dirty handkerchief from the tree. Inside was a gold ring. Joseph stepped back to read the inscription on the ring in the pale light and stumbled over what looked like a log covered with leaves. The log shrieked. Peter notched his bow with an arrow and pointed it at the creature. Louis hid behind a hackberry tree. "It is Loup Garou?" he asked. Peter poked the creature with his bow. The creature screeched. Peter scraped some leaves off the creature. "It is not a werewolf, Louis. It is worse." "What cold be worse than Loup Garou? asked Louis. "He is a wounded Union officer.," whispered Peter. "What do you want to do?" asked Peter as he looked at Joseph.
