Here's an email from a gentleman who does not want his name disclosed.

About a year ago in February, I decided to go on a two-night camping trip with three

of my friends, John, Joe, and Jim.

To a lake called Nutria No. 4, a couple of miles from Rama and Zuni, New Mexico.

The lake is well hidden behind the hog backs and mountains and is a great profession.

We set up camp at a campground located about a half a mile on top of a hill overlooking

a small valley.

It was a cozy spot behind some pine and cedar trees that acted as a windbreak.

At 4.30 after we'd set up the tent gathered some firewood and done everything else we needed

to do, Joe suggested we go down to the lake and throw some lines.

So we packed some light tackle, knowing we wouldn't get back until after dark, grabbed

our headlamps and headed out.

It was a slow cold night, but we managed to catch six trout before heading back to camp

around 8.30.

We were walking along in the dark in temperatures of around 30 degrees Fahrenheit with me in the

back when we noticed everything had gone dead silent.

We all stopped, switched our headlamps to the highest settings before continuing on, checking

every tree, scrutinizing every shadow, and repeatedly scanning the horizon for any predator

or anything else that may have caused the quiet.

I swung my headlamp around to my right and caught eye shine 30 yards away.

They were close to the ground, so my first thought was that it must be just another stray

dog that are so common on the reservation.

...