Now Brother Brigham had asked Bishop Leithead to have a flat boat large enough for a wagon and team, prepared for the sake of going down river to do some exploring of the region. This was accomplished shortly before we arrived but upon inspection Brother Brigham seemed to have changed his mind and declined to float the river. This was obviously disheartening for those who had worked so hard on the project as timber was hard to come by here. But he did encourage the Saints there to remain and work hard in the region even if they should remain there forever.
That last particular remark is on account of the restructuring of the territory boundaries and that as of now the Federal government had moved the markers now making St. Thomas within the state of Nevada instead of the Utah territory, and as such the inhabitants were now a full three years behind the exceedingly high state tax commissions of Nevada. This did constitute quite a financial burden upon the folk as making a living in that arid land was already difficult enough.
These incredible hardships of living in this desolate land did make quite a few of the Saints wonder on their place in the kingdom and I can’t say that I blame them.
I did have a long talk with Brother Daniel Bonelli on my own tribulations within the kingdom and with my recent reconnection after having been disfellowshipped on account of my adherence to the counsel of William Godbe. I cannot as yet say that I was wrong, but at this time neither will I say that I was absolutely right. The fate of the Godbeite reformation remains to be seen.
The flat boat did however see its use. The matter began on the next morning, when one of the Paiutes came to our camp and did call specifically for the help of Brother’s Brigham and Rockwell.
Apparently the squaw Rockwell had rescued the night before had been taken by a bitter shaman by the name of Toohoo-emmi who was reputed to be quite evil and always working mischief in the area. He had slain the woman’s husband and made some incredible demands that we all knew by no means would Brother Brigham abide by. This Toohoo-emmi was lord of a place known as Kai’Enepi or ‘Demon Mountain’. The other Lamanites came to express several similar grievances and soon enough the chiefs delivered their pleas to Brother Brigham for help in dealing with the wicked shaman who was so vexing their lands and peoples.
At first it seemed that Brother Brigham would not hear their pleas as he had said that they should sort this thing out themselves but this only caused confusion and much grumblings. It looked like things were going to get out of control and in an attempt to normalize relations with area bands, we did convene a meeting with Tut-se-gavits, chief of Santa Clara band; To-ish-obe, principal chief of the Muddy band; William, chief of the Colorado band; Farmer, chief of St. Thomas band; Frank, chief of Simondsville band; Rufus, chief of the Muddy Springs band above the California Road; and Thomas, chief of the band at the Narrows of the Muddy. Sixty-four braves from the seven bands accompanied the chiefs to the meeting. And this was one of the few times I saw Brother Brigham smoke the peace pipe with the Lamanites.
To the overall request for assistance Brother Brigham replied that he would do what he could while also saying that they should still take care of their own problems. To-ish-be replied that while he agreed there should be a separation and such that this was a spiritual matter that was beyond his people’s abilities and that we [meaning the Mormon brethren, who said we had the Great Spirits blessings in all things] should be obligated to do something about this wicked man who could consort with devils. This made Brother Brigham smile in a way he knew he had been caught with words. He agreed to send one who he called his right hand man for just such a situation, Orrin Porter Rockwell. Brother Brigham said he would have Rockwell go out and resolve the matter—if the Paiute would also put forward a squad of their own best men for the job and in this they very specifically volunteered a young medicine man whom the local saints called Chief John as well as five of their stoutest braves. Chief John was somewhat reluctant to accept this charge and I did understand that for some reason he was looked down upon, but until later I had no idea as to why.
And here is where I was also roped into accompanying this venture as Brother Brigham decided that I should go along and record their doings. It would be fair to wonder if he wasn’t punishing me for the whole of the Godbeite debacle and I did wonder if this wasn’t a surreptitious way of simply being rid of me should some unfortunate accident happen along the way. It is unkind of me to write or even think such things but this wretched land and heat has played with my very reason.
It was agreed that we should depart in the morning and that evening as I shared dinner with the Bonelli family I was told of some of the more sinister happenings in the area that were attributed to this Toohoo-emmi. Brother Bonelli told me that the goings on in St. Thomas have been eerie as of late. That it is not meet to go out at night as strange things have been seen in the hills at night and some folk have been known to disappear. He said that the call of wolves has been terrible close and that he and others have taken to melting down silverware for the sake of keeping the pure metal as bullets close at hand. Brother Bonelli did give me a handful of the precious cartridges should I need them on this adventure.
We did have the good fortune of Chief John speaking good English as he would be our translator if needed along the way. Neither Rockwell nor I speaking Paiute with any proficiency. We took the afore mentioned flat boat down the river to gain entrance to Toohoo-emmi’s abode. It was said he ruled from an ancient cliff palace that sat atop Kai’Enepi, the Demon Mountain. Our respective leaders bid that we should float downriver until we arrived at the trail leading to his mountain; take the fight to him and force a resolution of some kind.
It was a pleasant enough trip down the river and Chief John did tell us a number of things about our antagonist. It seemed that this Toohoo-emmi, whose name meant ‘The Black Hand’, had once been the chief medicine man for the Paiutes but had rather recently been deposed since he began dabbling in black magic and being far too removed from the Great Spirit. He had been seen going into trances with his eyes only showing their whites and talking with unseen forces. All of this may very well have been fine except that firstly some animals [horses] had gone missing and then finally people started to go missing and it was assumed that Toohoo-emmi was sacrificing them after the manner of the Old Ones.
Chief John was the one who had exposed these horrible crimes and he was then made medicine man for the tribes. This was a dubious honor because he had not been trying to take that position but merely right the wrongs that had been done. He had at first expected to exonerate Toohoo-emmi of the wild rumors and accusations but instead found indisputable evidence to condemn him. This certainly put a strain on things as I understood they had been quite close at some time.
Rockwell was rather indifferent toward all of this, spending a lot of his time using his saddle as a pillow and drinking Valley-Tan, letting his hand trail lazily in the warm river. He expressed no interest in Chief John’s tale and I felt it would be up to me to make peace once we found Toohoo-emmi and had the maiden returned and other wrongs righted. I hoped that by expressing Brother Brigham’s annoyance at this behavior we could peaceably conclude the matter. I should have recognized Chief John’s worry earlier on but I was ignorant of such things then.
It is true that sometimes we become blind to our own world outlook and standing, we can become complacent and forget outside views and I have stood in that place far too many times.
We had travelled some distance downriver when Chef John pointed out we were being followed and I was horrified to find out by whom or what he meant.
A trio of great black snakes swam in the river pursuing us. They dipped their heads every now and again and when they did I saw their scaly tails twist in the water a good ten paces behind where their head had been, I estimated these reptiles to be in excess of twenty feet long!
I woke Rockwell and asked him to look and be wary. He casually took a drink of his whiskey and blinking, answered that it was but beavers, and true these
heads were near as large as or even larger than a beaver’s head, but I assure you, they were indeed snakes of enormous size.
Chief John explained these serpents were servants of the Toohoo-emmi and would protect his domain from the likes of us. I took hold of a paddle as I had no gun and I again urged Rockwell to take up arms against this impending threat. He laughed and said there were no such snakes so large nor in this part of the desert. Granted, he did use much more colorful language than I shall repeat here.
The other five braves were in a panic, crying out “Nooyooadu!” But they did utilize their bows and rifles to prepare for the coming assault.
The serpents made a swift reconnoiter of us aboard the flat boat and did strike almost simultaneously panicking the horses into breaking their tethers and flinging themselves off the flat boat and into the river and very nearly cap-sizing us in the process. I regret that it took such dire action to bring Rockwell’s attention to our situation.
Rockwell was up in a flash and had his snub-nosed Navy Colts firing like the devil’s own cannons, and I must admit I did wonder about a house divided against itself. It seemed that for now the devil did protect his own as the snakes dodged his bullets and ducked back under the waters no harm done to them but we had lost all of our horses and one of the braves already.
Then the snakes did launch themselves at us once again. I did batter one of them with a paddle, dazing it, I suspect for it dropped back down into the murky waters but it certainly was not yet deceased.
One brave shot a pair of arrows into a serpent and it remained sluggish though it did not halt its attack. Another brave was knocked off the flat boat but Chief John managed to sink his tomahawk into the sluggish one’s head slaying it, though in its convulsion it hit him in the chest and fell back into the river.
Rockwell watched swinging his pistols whichever direction he did look and it saved him, as one snake reared from the waters suddenly and was met with both barrels full into the mouth. This blasted beast also slid back into the river with a splash of gore across the flat boat. I tried to remain steadfast in the face of such horrific violence and felt it was near beyond me.
With but one serpent left, we all kept vigil and also did rescue the one brave who had been knocked into the waters. We had absolutely lost the horses as they did not rise from the surface and we did suspect the serpents had grabbed their legs and drowned them along with the first brave who was knocked overboard.
There was some swirling in the murky brown waters but nothing came of it but our own fears.
When the final serpent did not attack, Chief John said he suspected that it had been Toohoo-emmi himself and that without help the wicked shaman would not attack as fierce a foe as we few again by himself, and that Toohoo-emmi had many other resources to fight and wear us down including other black magic’s that did bring much fear into the braves though I am quite sure that it was not his intent to worry them.
Chief John said we were floating nearer to the abode of Toohoo-emmi and bid us be watchful.
We floated to a spot in the river where a small canyon opened giving us but a very narrow view like unto a doorway to another realm. Beyond the cliff walls we saw in the distance some verdant greenery while a small reddish stream flowed into the Virgin River. I expressed some surprise that this stream and canyon were not on the maps that had been supplied me by either George Brimhall or Anson Call but then neither did they mark a map with any place known as Kai’Enepi either. As near as I could understand Chief John’s explanation, he seemed to be trying to find the English words to tell us there was a ‘glamour’ over this place and that what was once a sacred place of the Paiutes was now polluted and held in thrall by this Toohoo-emmi and his wicked band.
Rockwell guided the flat boat into the sandy beach area of the canyon and we did ground the vessel and pull it as far onto shore as we could muster now lacking the horses. We staked and roped it to some boulders though it would be no small feat for someone else to come along and dislodge it, even perhaps a large wake of the river could do the deed, but we were resolved to continue on despite the potential loss. None of us thought leaving a lone man behind to guard the flat boat was a worthwhile venture in this dangerous country.
We had not gone far beyond the shoreline when we found two dead men. One had his head blasted away by gunshots and the other had no head, as if cleaved by a tomahawk. Two arrow wounds were also in his backside. It took my getting some used to the idea but Chief John insisted these two men had been changelings or shape shifters and were in actuality the serpents we had so recently encountered. This was the wildest explanation I had ever heard but I could not deny the bloody truth at my feet as much as I truly wished I could.
Porter was silent at this revelation, but neither did he say it was as impossible as I had first pronounced.
We hiked along the narrow cliff walls always with an eye to the sky above which gave us but a sliver of light in this dark canyon. Thrice rocks tumbled from somewhere far above nearly braining us in the process. Chief John said this was the work of the Nimerigar, or little people. He said they were cannibals and allied with Toohoo-emmi. Again I scoffed but felt a grim fear well up in my breast as I thought I saw some dark child dash behind a boulder. Sure that my eyes were playing tricks on me or that perhaps I had seen a child rather than a tiny man I expressed as much to Chief John who bid we prepare for an attack.
Rockwell spit out a curse and I told him to remember who we were and what we represented and he looked at me with those deep killers’ eyes and I found myself unable to continue speaking.
A shrill high-pitched cry echoed from the cliffs and the sharp twanging of bows announced the attack of the vicious Nimerigar. Tiny arrows filled the clearing before us and the miniscule shafts caught one of our braves in the knee. He had time but to shout in terrible searing pain and then he passed away while convulsing and foaming at the mouth like a mad beast.
Poison! A treachery most foul! Chief John warned us to avoid even a scratch from the deadly missiles. The tiny needle like armaments bounced and ricocheted from the boulders about us and soon enough it was clear that the diminutive assassins were flanking us as our cover from this storm diminished.
Porter cursed again and said something to the effect of having enough and he would test his mettle here and now.
He stepped out into the barrage and yet, none of the cursed darts struck him, it was as if he bore the wake of a great airship before him and the missiles did swirl out and around him on a peculiar breeze, such could not be said of his bullets though—as he took aim at the Nimerigar and shot a score of them before they fled in terror.
Rockwell even captured one, who was no larger than a babe in arms, though fully grown according to Chief John. The little man had an ugly head that was quite large by comparison though all of his tools, clothing and moccasins and the like were similar in fashion to the Paiutes, though just the size for a doll. I should add that he had wretched teeth and did spit and hiss furiously as Rockwell held him by the nape of the neck.
Chief John was quite taken aback but did proceed to try and question the Nimerigar, who as Chief John later told us had never before been captured by any man, let alone a white man to whom they were usually invisible.
Bitter though he was, the Nimerigar, whose name he said was Pu’wihi, said he and his war party were to defend against the enemies of Toohoo-emmi, as he was now their true Lord and master.
I sensed that I was witness to the dying of a race that would soon be no more, as I understood some small amount of the exchange between Chief John and Pu’wihi that there were no longer any women left to the Nimerigar and that it made Chief John sad though they were his ancestral enemies. I felt I was uniquely disposed to feel that pain, as that very loss and decay is a part of my own religion and belief.
Bargaining with Pu’wihi seemed to make little headway but finally we were able to work an exchange of the tiny man showing us the traps his people had left on the trail balanced upo
n our word that we should no more harm his folk if they too left us alone. To this he agreed and he then did call out a sharp cat-like cry and yipping that was met some miles down the canyon and we saw no more of the tiny people. We did however keep Pu’wihi a prisoner accorded good treatment. His curious presence was unnerving to me.
We made camp for the night against an overhang in the rock, that would not allow any enemy to sneak up behind us and even gave good cover should enemies try and shoot at us.
Rockwell said he did not like the place but it was getting dark and there was no way to get the braves to continue on with us in the gloom. Not that I wanted to myself as this was a truly dark and frightful place. Strange calls filled the night and even Pu’wihi said he did not know all the creatures that made such awful cries.
Chief John blessed our spot and bid we always keep two men on vigil all night to ward against any evil dreams that might befall us.
I found it a hard place to go to sleep as the sandstone was both hard and cold and the eerie feeling of doom hung upon me thicker than my wet blanket. But sleep I did for some time in the early hours Rockwell shook me awake saying to hold onto something solid and try to get to the highest point beneath the overhang.
I was confused and groggy with sleep but I heard an awful roaring that filled me with such terror, I wondered at what wretched demon was tearing down the canyon toward us with the speed of a locomotive. It must have been a giant for I heard the snapping and twisting tree trunks shattered at its very passage and I wondered aloud how we could possibly fight this devil.
Rockwell answered there was no fighting it, we should simply weather it out in the high ground.
I did not understand, but he had been so very nonchalant about all of our trials and now as a giant was thundering toward us he simply moved to the upper edge of the hollow and grabbed hold of a boulder. I shouted at him over the approaching din, that perhaps no bullet or blade could harm him but what was I to do against this new foe and who I asked was it?
Cold Slither: and other horrors of the weird west (Dark Trails Saga) Page 22