by Rick Johnson
She decided it was unlikely that a better place than the ledge could be found to spend the night. Making preparations for a precarious campsite, Helga lodged her flicker-pole into a crevasse at the bottom of the sloping ledge and wedged her backpack against it. This blocked any possible slide into the river. Helga was not worried about the pole breaking. She trusted the tree that had given the wood. The pole would not break.
Helga sat down leaning on the rock wall, wedged next to her backpack. She lay her soft cotton cloak down on her other side to make a place to sleep—clinging to the side of a cliff 2,000 feet above the river!
Rummaging in her backpack, Helga brought out a small yucca fiber and porcupine quill pouch. Opening it, she took out an oiled cotton package. Inside was a dark tan-colored lump—honey nut butter! She smeared some of the sweet tasting spread across a strip of trout jerky and gnawed on it, washing it down with a few swigs from her water gourd.
Feeling secure in her precarious perch, she considered the night that was coming. She had enough food and water to last at least two days more, and she felt certain she could reach the top of the cliff tomorrow. But she also was worried. Watching the sky, she saw signs of clouds gathering. If it rained, she had little protection. The cold mountain night would increase the risk. If her clothes became soaked, she could die from exposure. Calmly, but with urgent concern, she reviewed each item she had with her. How could she increase her shelter?
Not being able to climb with a heavy pack, Helga was traveling light. The prospects were discouraging. She would have to rely on her wits to protect herself as well as she could and hope for the best. Feeling alone and helpless, she wished she could get help. Then an idea occurred to her. What about the flicker-pole?
Filled with new energy, Helga carefully shifted the backpack out of the way and lodged her own body where the pack had been. Then she wedged her back and legs securely against the two sides of the crevice to keep her precarious campsite from sliding into the river. When she felt that she was lodged securely enough to prevent a disastrous collapse of the campsite, she gently pulled the pole loose. Hoping that her plan would work, Helga began to work the flicker-pole in what was normally the ‘weapon’ style of use. Waving it in a way that made the end a blur of motion, an undulating, whisper-like song sounded across the cliff. Softly singing the ancient prayer songs she knew by heart, Helga rocked forward and back, working the staff with an almost surreal power and intensity.
For many minutes, nothing seemed to happen, but she continued moving with dogged determination. Dusk fell. Cold rain began to fall. Time was short. “Please, Ancient Ones...Help me,” Helga murmered. Possessed with strength beyond her own understanding, she worked the flicker-pole with even greater power. Then they began to come: Pinion Jays, Canyon Swifts, and Rock Wrens from all corners of the canyons. Soon the calls and cries of the canyon birds were loud enough to drown out the music Helga was making. By the tens and hundreds they came, dropping from the sky in flocks to roost all around the crevice where Helga camped. Flock by flock they covered the crevice completely as bird after bird joined the serried lines, creating a complete protecting canopy over her campsite! The steady pelting of bird droppings was only a minor annoyance to Helga, grateful that she would survive the chilling rain. She spread her cloak to protect against the droppings and thanked the Ancient Ones for their help.
The Ancient Ones had discovered the power of the flicker-pole to attract birds. From times of unknown past, its tones had always called nearby birds to roost. Wherever they were, whatever they were doing, some deep language of the heart called them to join together in fellowship. When the music sounded, a great conclave of birds gathered around the pole. Coming in peace, but coming in vast numbers, this amazing roosting of birds had been used by the Wood Cows since ancient times as a means of defense. Even the most dangerous enemy did not want to be covered by hundreds and thousands of birds, however peaceful they were!
As the rain began to fall, the water slid from the feathers of the birds and fell harmlessly down the cliffside. There could not have been a more effective protection against the rain! The body heat of the birds also helped to warm the bone-weary Helga. She wedged the flicker-pole back into position at the front of the ledge, returned the backpack to its position, and slumped in exhaustion. Slipping into a beautiful dream of being reunited with her father, Helga thought little more about what might lie ahead...
Broken Eye and Slasher Annie
Broken Eye was hungry and tired. The Cougar and his wife, Slasher Annie, had eaten nothing but ‘bandit’s mush’—cricket paste mixed with cornmeal—for days. Lying as flat on the ground as possible, hastily burrowed under a covering of leaves, sticks, and pine needles, they tried not to breathe as some Grizzly Bear trackers passed nearby. Now they wouldn’t have even bandit’s mush to eat, having lost their supply satchels when the trackers surprised them.
“Them’s get’in hot on ma’tail, them’s is—Shouldn’t hav’ lost all ma’crew...ma’victuals...” Broken Eye’s mind was wild with activity, even as he lay absolutely still under the covering of leaves. The wily Cougar did not let a moment waste as he considered the situation. As dark as the prospects looked, he felt a strange glee. His eyes burned with fire as he waited patiently for his pursuers to pass. Although the trackers were passing within a few feet of where he and Slasher Annie were concealed, Broken Eye was not worried. “Nay, ma’laddies...Nay...Nay. Old Broken Eye ish’nt done yet. We’s some fun ta’have yet! Broken Eye didn’t become what’s he isht by bein’ feared of a few fisheatin’ bears. Nay, there bein’s some fun in him yet!”
Broken Eye and his gang had been on the run for five weeks, barely stopping to rest. Sheer will kept them moving. Grizzly trackers, sent to hunt down Broken Eye’s gang, were hot on his trail. One by one, Broken Eye had lost his Cougars to ambushes, poison darts from Grizzly blowguns, and claw-to-claw combat. The Grizzlies were sworn not to quit until they had wiped out the bandits. Now only Broken Eye and Annie were left. The trackers were closing in on them.
Broken Eye had eluded his pursuers so far by calling on every trick of cunning he had. But they were getting too close for comfort. He would have to do something spectacularly brilliant if he and Slasher Annie were to have a chance. His stalkers were so close to their hiding place that Broken Eye could almost count the individual hairs on the huge shaggy legs poking out between the top of the boots and the bottom of the leggings they wore.
Lying under the leaves as still as a rotting log, Broken Eye’s mind was busy with feverish planning. Never one for fear and trembling, Broken Eye took each new setback as a chance to demonstrate his brilliance. His thoughts raced with plans for escape and fury against his enemies. “Ya’thinks ya got me, ya’ugly loot robbers, but we’s got some fun left in us yet!” In spite of the danger, Broken Eye relished the challenge of outwitting the Grizzlies, whom he considered ‘loot robbers.’ “They’s a bunch of parlor bandits,” Broken Eye thought to himself. “We’s steal ma’loot fair and square, usin’ ma’brain and wits. And then these parlor bandits waltz in, as easy as ya’please, and steals it back from me! Surely we’s tell ya, it’s robbery! They say as if they will give it back to its ‘owners’—Well, we’s say him’as stole it first, owns it!”
As the trackers passed by his hiding place without incident, Broken Eye began to breathe again. Slipping out of hiding, a wide, wicked grin spread across his nearly toothless, badly scarred mouth. He shared his new plan with Slasher Annie. “Aye, ma’laddies, we’s got just the thing fer ya’s stupid loot robbers,” Broken Eye said. “Da’laddies will remember Broken Eye a long time. They’s don’t scare me. We’s hide only to think. When we’s know what to do, we’s no longer hide! We’s knows the plan. They will see Broken Eye in full sight, and they’ll be helpless ta watch us escape. They won’t be able to do anything about it. Nay, they won’t never forget Broken Eye!”
When he spoke this way, Annie knew her husband was no longer ‘right in his mind.’ He w
ent into a kind of insane trance where he spoke and moved almost by instinct, without thought or fear. Once he knew what he wanted to do, he gave no further thought to obstacles, adversity, or danger. It was Broken Eye’s way. It had saved his skin many times.
As a young Cougar challenging for leadership of the bandit gang, he had spent six days in the wilderness with his paws tied behind his back. Although anyone could challenge to be bandit leader, few did. Such a challenge sent both the chief and his challenger into the wilderness for a test of craftiness and grit. Each was left deep in the woods, with their paws tied behind their backs. After three days, if one was still alive, he became head of the gang. If both were still alive, they were left for another three days, and so on until only one came out of the ordeal alive. With only one’s wits and courage to live by, the Cougars considered it a proper test of someone who would be a master of bandits.
Broken Eye had nearly died from thousands of mosquito bites he had received in that trial. When the ordeal ended, his body was swollen like a balloon when he crawled out of the forest on the last day. He had survived, but lost the sight in one of his eyes, which had swollen to the point of exploding. His challenger had not been so lucky. No trace of him was found except for some shreds of bloody clothing tied to a tree with barbed wire—the sign of Grizzly Bear trackers. So Broken Eye did not underestimate the Grizzlies.
“Annie,” Broken Eye called to his wife with a crazed look shining in his one good eye, “we’s going to do what a Cougar has never done before! We’s goin’ to surrender!”
Slasher Annie looked at her husband dubiously. “Surrender? There’s ten Grizzly trackers out there, Broken Eye! They’ll chop us into pieces!” But Annie knew it was no use, and, although it made no sense now, she did not doubt Broken Eye’s statement. Annie had seen many surprising tricks from the old Cougar.
“We’s givin’ up,” Broken Eye said slyly. “We’s givin’ up. We’s just walkin’ out there, white flag a’flutterin’. Then we’s have some fun!”
“But, Broken Eye, I don’t understand,” Annie replied. “Surrendering is fun?”
“Just don’t never forget who we’s be,” Broken Eye screeched. “We’s got a plan! The dumb laddies will never forget Broken Eye!” His tired, bloodshot eye bugged out insanely. His body quavered with excitement as his mate had never seen before. Pulling his battered red tricorne hat on his head, he grinned wickedly: “Aye, ma’laddies, we’s got fun.”
“AYE, MA’LADDIES, YA GOT ME THIS TIME, WE’S GIVIN’ UP! YA, HEAR US YA UGLY LOOT ROBBERS?” Turning to Annie, with a wild look in his bulging eye, Broken Eye said, “That should do it...They’ll be coming back our way. Now we’s got fun! Hold ma stuff, Annie, here comes some fun!”
Slasher Annie looked at Broken Eye questioningly. The powerful old Cougar was standing before her, slipping off the series of ribbons that held his three machetes slung across his shoulders. He gave the machetes to Annie to hold. Fumbling in the big pockets of his coat, he pulled out a coil of dried-grass fuse, a flint, and six gourds.
“Flash gourds!” Annie exclaimed. “That’s the last ones we have. What do they have to do with surrendering?”
“Ish’nt it ma fun?” Broken Eye laughed. “We’s be havin’ some fun with da loot robbers!”
Broken Eye quickly cut several lengths of fuse, and stuck them in every possible opening—in his ears, his mouth, his coat pockets, and his boots. Cougar bandits twisted strands of dried grass together in long braids. These were smeared with snake grease, which, when dried, made the twisted braids of grass sturdy, and turned them into effective, slow-burning fuses. Broken Eye carried a coil of fuse rolled up in his pockets, along with a number of flash gourds. Each was about the size of two fists and filled with pulverized grain dust. The dust was highly explosive. Each gourd contained enough to level a small-sized building. The homemade explosives were Broken Eye’s weapons of last resort. Flash gourds were completely harmless until the fuse was lit. Then they detonated within moments—depending on how long the fuse was.
“Ha’rsh, Ha’rsh, Ha’rsh!” Broken Eye laughed as he worked quickly to ignite the fuses! “Yea, ma’laddies, old Broken Eye ish’t really comin’ ta surrender, but I guess I forgot ta tell ya that!”
Using his flint, Broken Eye put fire to all the fuses—both the ones on the flash gourds and the spare ones poking out of every possible opening. He stood before Annie with smoke pouring off of him. She was amazed to look at him. Broken Eye was always a terrifying sight. But now, he looked like a beast from someone’s darkest nightmare. Annie was barely able to see him through the smoke that writhed around him. His bright red hat; long, billowing red coat; and red ribbons tied to the ends of his wild, shaggy braided beard added a sinister cast amidst the swirling smoke. With his badly scarred face, red eye-patch, and enormous height, Broken Eye was a terror to behold!
Slasher Annie herself could well understand why creatures fled at the very name of Broken Eye, even when he wasn’t wreathed in smoke!
“Ya know me Annie...just don’t ya be fearin’. Stay here and ready. We’s be back straight away. Aye, and ya might put in some ear plugs!” With that, he walked straight in the direction of the trackers. Annie judged that the fuses on the flash gourds probably would burn about two minutes before they would all explode with a deafening blast! Flash gourds were used only rarely in Cougar bandit attacks—like blowing open a building to be plundered that could be opened in no other way. In those cases, usually they were dedonated one at a time! They were far too dangerous to use in groups. Now Broken Eye had six of them lit, their fuses smoking out of his pockets! When they went off, they would level everything within a hundred yards. Annie pulled two small corks from her pockets and stuck them in her ears, then pulled the kerchief tied over her head down over her ears as far as it would go. There was going to be a tremendous explosion! Any right-minded creature would run for her life, but Annie stayed where she was. She knew that when Broken Eye got into these insane moods, he seemed somehow to know what he was doing—at least in the past. But he’d never done anything so foolish and daring as this.
Broken Eye walked out into a clearing in the woods and stood waiting. The trackers stopped at the edge of the clearing, obviously perplexed. They well knew the reputation of Broken Eye. He was crafty and very dangerous. What was this hideous, smoke-wrapped apparition about?
“Just hold it RIGHT there, ya LOUSY loot robbers!” Broken Eye screamed. “we’s brINGIn’ you some fun! we’s givIn’ up! we’s SUrrendering! WE’S youR prisOner! WE’S just comIn’ over TO SURRENDER TO ma laddies! all THAT’S mine ISHT FOR you too! aye, we’s got ma flash gourds for ya! mA pockets ish’t full!” Broken Eye’s ranting echoed through the forest.
The Grizzly Bear trackers looked at one another. They realized Broken Eye was a walking bomb! They well knew that even one flash gourd would be enough to kill or maim them all and Broken Eye obviously had many! The Grizzlies fled back into the woods, running pell-mell in frantic retreat.
“nay, ma laddies! iT ISHN’T easy ta get fAR ENOUGH away! Here’s be some fun fOr ya loot robbers!” Laughing hysterically, Broken Eye tore off his coat with the smoking flash gourds in the pockets, and swinging it around over his head, heaved the coat upwards far into the air in the direction the Grizzlies had fled. Then he turned and ran as fast as he could back towards where Annie awaited.
The last thing Annie saw was Broken Eye, leaping towards her with a wild, gleeful grin on his face. He hit her with a forceful tackle just as the roar of a deafening explosion split the air! Earth, rocks, shards of wood, leaves and other debris rained down upon them. The force of the blast knocked down a massive tree just in front of them, which saved them from being crushed by others that fell.
Smoke and dust was still swirling as Broken Eye leaped up, grabbing Slasher Annie by the arm. “Aye, Annie, we’s got’s to go. Da’laddies be back. Nay time’s ta’wastes.”
In no time, Broken Eye and Slasher Annie were speeding away beneath the
dense forest canopy. They moved like the wind. On and on they ran, putting miles between themselves and the scene of the explosion. They hoped the trackers would be stunned long enough to delay their pursuit. They heard no sounds of being followed. Grizzlies could not move as fast as Cougars on the run. Even if they were not hurt and able to move at high speed, they would make considerable noise if they were moving fast enough to keep up with the Cougars. At last, feeling they had left the Grizzlies far enough behind for some safety, and nearly exhausted, they slowed down, gasping for breath.
“I have no idea where we are, do you know, Broken Eye?” Annie asked.
“Nay, we’s don’t know. We’ll just camp for the night. Come day’s light, we’ll explore. There be Skull Buzzards circlin’ ahead. That might be some fun!”
Broken Eye knew that Skull Buzzards were native to only one place—the Don’ot Stumb Mountains. Few beasts went there because it was too dangerous. “Go by land, you die. Go by water, you drown.”—he had heard the warning many times. Either way, the Skull Buzzards picked over your carcass and plundered your stuff. Most creatures thought those were not good odds. But not Broken Eye. He lived to cheat death.
“Aye, Annie, tomorrow we’s visit the Skull Buzzards and see what they have that we’s want!”
Cut Up Badly
A cool, gray morning dawned as Helga awakened from a sound sleep. The roosting birds had departed at the first red streaks of sunrise. She felt rested and refreshed as she sat up, carefully avoiding the mess of bird droppings that had showered the cloak during the night.
Feeling famished, she gave herself a couple pieces of jerky smeared with nut butter and then popped a rock cracker in her mouth. Sucking on the small and extremely hard sweet crackers provided a long-lasting source of energy. Helga liked sucking on one when she had hard labor to do. Popping one in her mouth, she shouldered her backpack again and began climbing. The going was difficult and dangerous—steep, precarious talus slopes covered the portion of the cliff just below the final vertical face. Progress was slow all day, as she constantly slipped on loose stones and slid backwards. Slowly her persevering spirit and strength prevailed. Little by little, she inched toward the top of the rock cliff.