Dire Wolves

by Ken Jolly

  Mopping Up

  It took almost eleven days for the State and their snowplows to climb the pass. Once the pass opened, a few families took the route back to Dawson but most stayed.

  Gradually over the next couple of weeks, the Homesteader families who remained started the slow process of moving back to their ranches. An armed guard detail accompanied them and stayed a few days to make sure they had no local problems.

  I ran into Luke yesterday. He was packing a sled to take his wife and family back to the farm. I looked around and didn’t see his cows. “Where’s the herd?”

  “I’ve sold a few to Hazel and hired some help to drive the others back to my place next week. I’m going to wait a few days and make sure it’s safe.”

  About this time, we saw his wife carrying her rifle. Lindsey and Betty came out of the General Store. Lindsey and Betty looked a little subdued but happy to be heading back to their home.

  His wife smiled and said, “Next time you are on our part of the mountain stop for lunch.”

  It was tough saying bye to Jake. He left with a military convoy and I still remember our last conversation.

  "Jonah, you know you are getting rusty living here. These wolves gave me an idea. There are other unknown species in hiding. Remember you were thinking about finding a Sasquatch?”

  “Horace might be right. Even if these were not actual Dire Wolves, they may have been some genetic throwback to earlier times. There are constant sightings of unknown animals that need investigating. Might even be some money in it.” Jake paused.

  “Two Fish admits it will be years until this area returns for hunting. I couldn't find a more qualified woodsman if I looked. He's coming south to join me. I hope you will also."

  I knew a little of what he was planning. "I suspect I might. This cabin will always be home. Yet, it gets somewhat lonely. It is a lot like the Fortress of Solitude. I may be down after I set things in order here.”

  I thought about going south. I wanted to see my folks again and I wanted to see Austin again.

  I thought about Texas and the closure of some important unfinished business. I thought about paying a visit to Absinthe. I was sure she had long finishing college by now.

  “That is not such a bad idea,” I admitted. “I could see my folks and check in on a certain young lady” oops, I said too much.

  Jake was puzzled. “Who’s the young lady?”

  I rubbed my scars. “Someone I knew a long time ago.”

  Jake suggested, "I would avoid Hazel if I was you. She's convinced you have a hidden gold mine."

  A huge laugh erupted from me. That reminded me.

  "If I give you directions and money, would you buy me some more gold? It would be a shame to leave town and disappoint her."

  Jake’s booming laughter was a comfort to me, and as he nodded in agreement, I saw a change in his eyes that looked serious and probably painfully sentimental.

  He rested his big, heavy paw on my shoulder and heaved a big sigh. Uh-oh, here it comes.

  “Jonah, about this certain young lady…well, you need to know…” he hesitated.

  My mind was poised for an ugly revelation.

  “Man, your scars are healed.”

  Preview

  Jonah Blackheart, Monster Hunter

  Night of the Squatch

  Book 2

  By Ken Jolly

  Jonah could feel eyes on him. Everyone going into the forest knows this feeling and generally, this is because the woods are full of eyes from every sort of critter, however this was different. He could feel it between his shoulder blades. The soulless stare of a stalking predator.

  Whatever it was Jonah has been feeling it for the last mile. A growing sense of unease.

  Naturally at first I thought about Sasquatches, however I didn’t think they would feel like this. This felt more like a carnivore. It was a hungry stare as if whatever watched was looking for a meal.

  I stopped and each time I checked behind me on the National Forest path I spotted nothing. Not a breath of wind or any branches of evergreens moved. No sound or motion however I was more convinced than ever that something was following.

  It was getting hotter and I stopped this time to fumble with my canteen for a swig of water, when I spotted it. Two hundred yards behind me on a rise in the trail, I saw a tawny shape dart across the clearing.

  I carefully re-holstered the canteen and slowly brought my slung rifle to my shoulder to use the optics. I needed a closer look.

  There sitting on the edge of the trail was a golden brown Puma! I could even make out the detail of its tail curled around it.

  My index finger curled onto the trigger, ready to take up slack, however something about the cat caused me to hesitate.

  If I took the cat I was going to have to carry its heavy carcass along with my already heavy pack to the Trail Head, but in addition it was just too pretty of a day to kill anything.

  “Live and let live,” I murmured and re-slung the rifle.

  Having a very large cougar stalking your back trail is apt to make a man nervous. I had fallen considerably behind Jake and Two Fish and now felt vulnerable. I quickened my pace to catch up with them.

  “You stink,” Jake said as I caught up with him on the trail.

  “You are no bed of roses yourself,” I lashed back. We had been two weeks in the brush. A hot shower sounded good to me. “Where’s Two Fish?”

  “Up the trail somewhere. He says we make too much noise,” Jake shrugged.

  “Maybe we do when compared to him. Personally, I think we do good. Our lives use to depend on stealth.”

  Jake sighed,“He won’t say it, but I think he’s just disappointed we didn’t find hide nor hair of signs,” Jake explained.

  I looked back at the trip. “Truthfully, I am too. If they are not here then they are not here. This was supposed to be a squatchy area, with a lot of local sightings.”

  This was Willow creek where the original Patterson video footage was shot. There had been fourteen sightings in the last year alone.

  Jake scratched his head, “Well. Two Fish says there’s nothing here.”

  “If he says there’s nothing, trust me there is nothing. He can find a needle in a haystack”

  “What about an eight foot ape in the Pacific Northwest?” Jake laughed. The only tired comment Jake had to make after spending two hot weeks in the hills, “That’s why it’s called hunting; otherwise, they would call it finding.”

  “I know we are better than those people on Television. If they ever find a Sasquatch it will only be when the darn Apes want to be found!”

  I have more than a lot of disdain for these reality shows. They obviously stay in fancy Hotels, have camera crews and caterers taking care of their whims. Their programs always report finding signs, which sound like their own camera crew faking howls; yet they never spend more than a few days at a site and obviously return to their hotels every night.

  If we thought, there was the slightest possibility of something being in the woods, we would be living in the hills just as we have for the last couple of weeks. Heck, we spent this much time even when there are no signs.

  I peered up the trail where the always-present forest of evergreens wound up the mountain and suggested, “Maybe if we speed up we can catch up with Two Fish. I reckon the trail head can’t be more than another couple of miles.”

  Jake consulted his GPS, “Only if he lets us catch him. I think he might have a little bit of that squatch blood in him… hard to catch.”

  “Do you think he carries this Indian thing, being one with the land, a little too much,” Jake asked?

  “Considering he is exactly what we need if we are ever going to find one, I don’t think so. My money is on the Indian.”

  I know the first night in camp I had embarrassed myself when I was hooting and hollering into the forest before Two Fish stopped me.

  He came up silently and tapped me on the shoulder making me jump. “Jonah, what in the
tarnation do you think you are doing? Would you please not do that?”

  “I’m calling Bigfoot, like they do on television.”

  He stared for a full minute in what looked like exasperation. Finally, he asks, “Does it work for them?”

  “They seem to think so and it’s in all of the books.”

  “That’s one of the problems with white men, they read too much. These Apes are intelligent creatures. I suspect they easily tell the difference between themselves and us. Some of the encounters where more than one creature is seen, people report them talking as if they have a language. You are just shouting gibberish at them. That only warns them off.”

  You know Two Fish, on television I saw a show which indicates Indians know more about Sasquatches than us?”

  He squatted next to me. “I don’t, however my grandfather told stories about them. Some thought these were bogey man stories to make children behave.” He paused. “My father claims to have seen one.”

  “Do you believe him?”

  Two fish aquinted up at me, “He drank a lot.”

  He rose and walked back to the fire just shaking his head.

  He puts up with a lot from us.

  This had been an enlightening trip for both Jake and myself . I guess if hunting Bigfeet had been easy, anyone can do it and the beasts would already have been documented. There is always more to learn.

  I do admit the trip was not all work and has been fun. The fresh scent of the forest and clear water of the shallow creek where we had camped had done a lot to renew us. If you have to work this was not bad.

  I had brought my 5wt fly rod and a small box of flies. None of it weighed a lot and though I scare more fish off than I catch, several nights we had trout for dinner.

  Only now, on the hike back I was dragging. Carrying all of this gear uphill was tiring. It had been downhill on the trip in. “Jake, you think it’s much further?”

  “Jonah, you are worse than a kid with are we there yet questions.” Just as Jake finishing his comment I jumped perceptibly as Two Fish stepped into the trail from out of nowhere. His camo had done a great job of blending with the forest. The man can hide. Until he stepped on the trail, he had been virtually invisible.

  “Nice of you to wait for us,” Jake teased.

  “Problem.” Two Fish was in his monotone Indian mode again. Sometimes we suspect he has more education than us. Other times he likes to play Indian. “Something wrong at Trail Head.”

  “You’ve already been back to the truck?”

  Two Fish frowned, “Lot’s of people.”

  I’m like Two Fish I hate crowds. However I hate crowds because of my scars. People either stare or deliberately look away and pretend not to be staring. It’s unsettling.

  Jake asked puzzled, “Is this a problem?”

  When we had parked at the Trail Head weeks ago, we had been the lone vehicle. Had our choice of parking spaces.

  “Many people. Some with banners and a news van.”

  “Well, something must be going on. We can just slink out of here and not bother them or whatever they are up to.” I suggested.

  “Not that easy. I think from the banners they are protesting Big Foot hunting,” Two Fish opined.

  “Just great,” Jake mumbled,” Anyone asks, we were just camping.”

  Two Fish repeated, “Not that easy. Your names are on some of the banners.”

  “What about your name.”

  He just shrugged.

  “Well, we still have choices. We can hide in the woods til they go away, face the music, or get to town and hot showers,” I summarized.

  “Jonah, as bad as you stink I have to vote for the shower,” Jake grinned. “We’ve done news conferences in the past. This is just one more.”

  Two Fish contributed,” They didn’t seem too happy.”

  Musing the problem, I had an idea. “I suggest we divert off the trail and approach the parking area from the rear. While they are waiting for us to show on the trail we sneak to the truck and duck them.”

  Jake considered, “I think that might work.”

  “That’s why I came back to wait for you,” Two Fish confirmed.

  Jake asked, “No one saw you?”

  “No one sees me unless I want them to see me.”

  Jake cast his vote, “I’m in favor of Jonah’s idea. He really could use a shower.”

  It was not as easy as I had suggested. There was a reason why the trail lay where it was. We had a rough scramble coming up behind the parking lot. Especially having to be extremely quiet and unobserved.

  We almost got away with it. I was slinging the packs into the back of our truck when we are spotted and hell broke loose. First thing, I knew some lady dressed rather nice comes running across the parking lot with the television crew following on her heels.

  “Mr. Blackheart, where do you think you are going?”

  It has been a long day and I’m not in the best of moods, even though she was a looker. “Wherever I want to! Come on guys we are rolling..”

  “You just wait right here. I’m Patty Weller, head of SOS, and we have a bone to pick with you.”

  “SOS?”

  She stomped one foot emphatically in the gravel with venom in her voice, “Save our Sasquatches.”

  Now was the time to admit nothing, “Do they need saving? I don’t have anything to say.”

  “We know you were here hunting Sasquatch and we don’t like it. To have a stranger come in here and try to kill our Sasquatches is unacceptable!”

  By this time the news crew had caught up to, her and I now have a microphone thrust in my face. This only me mad. Jake and Two Fish are hiding behind the truck but I could hear them laughing. I don’t know why it is always me. Could be I’m recognized by the scars.

  “Everyone heard how you singlehandedly exterminated a wolf species in Alaska. We want to keep our Sasquatches!”

  I tried to push pass the microphone however there was no escape. Finally, I surrender.

  First, you have your facts wrong. The wolves are far from exterminated. I left some alive. You must have read Horace’s report. He exaggerates. These self same wolves you are so concerned about killed over twenty citizens of Laurel, Alaska.

  “What about our Sasquatches? There are not that many of them! We have over an average of fourteen sightings a year.”

  “You don’t have any Sasquatches. We just spent two weeks in the canyon and saw zip. No signs of any hairy apes.”

  “If you had seen one would you have killed it? I noticed you were carrying a rifle.”

  “And I have a handgun.”

  “Then you admit you were here to kill Sasquatches?”

  “Lady, we were in the back country. There are numerous reasons to be armed. Bears, Pumas, Snakes and procuring dinner. I’m sure your Sasquatches are peaceful well behaved citizens, however I feel a lot safer packing heat. In spite of the pacifist stories about these Apes, there are also recorded incidents of Sasquatches throwing rocks, kidnapping people and every year people go missing in this wilderness. You have to excuse us for being armed however we consider people that go out looking for eight foot Apes with no protection to be stupid.” I looked down at her high heels. “I doubt you’ve ever been down the canyon. You look dressed for the office, not the wilds of the Northwest. Besides the caliber of the guns we carry wouldn’t do much to make an impression on an eight to twelve foot ape but make it mad!”

  Jake is laughing so hard he is bent over; however I couldn’t tell if it was from the humor or a attempt to hide.

  “We have no desire to kill your Bigfeet, but we will protect ourselves if needed.” I gestured at the truck for Jake and Two Fish to mount up.

  “This isn’t over mister! I’m getting an injunction to stop you and all of the other hunters!”

  I paused, “Other hunters?”

 

 

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