Whispers Out Of The Dust: A Haunted Journey Through The Lost American West (Dark Trails Saga)

by David J. West

  I extended a hand to help Rockwell up when I felt someone tugging at my shoulders to send me over the brink!

  Toohoo-emmi had knocked Chief John senseless and was striving to eliminate me! The last of his foes still at the summit.

  I pushed back in vain, Toohoo-emmi was much the stronger and I had no traction.

  Watt! Duck!

  I looked just in time to see Rockwell training his pistol right at me. I ducked and I felt the heat, powder and air cascade as the bullet went right past my ear. I was deaf in it for days. But Rockwell had sent a slug right into Toohoo-emmi’s face. Yet the wicked shaman was not dead!

  He gargled and grasped at his face as blood poured over his black-painted body, his cheek and ear were ruined but he was not yet even close to dead. He turned and ran from us as I pulled Rockwell up and over the edge.

  Chief John had been sorely struck but was still alive as well. The woman remained catatonic but appeared otherwise undamaged.

  I helped Chief John to his feet and senses as Rockwell went in pursuit of the foe.

  Toohoo-emmi had run to back side of the mesa and to another ladder and further down a relative back way to Kai’Enepi. As near as I could tell, from this high place you could climb down into another slot canyon and eventually make your way back to the Virgin River.

  Rockwell was already halfway down went Toohoo-emmi reached the bottom and began kicking and knocking away at the long ladder in an effort to knock Rockwell loose.

  He succeeded in knocking the ladder loose and it started to fall over to the left and into an awful gorge. Rockwell leapt free and caught a jutting pinnacle of stone.

  Toohoo-emmi then disappeared into the crags and we saw him no more. It took Rockwell sometime to be able to climb back to our position.

  We would camp in the cliff palace that night and care for our dead and wounded. Chief John led us all in prayer to cleanse this place and among the purifications that were done, we did burn some of the towers and the great skull kiva at the summit. It was a bonfire for the ages and finally by morning did the thing collapse upon itself and release what evil spirits it held.

  The next day we began the long arduous journey back to St. Thomas and Rockwell did grumble exceedingly about, ‘the one that got away’.

  Chief John reminded him that we should see Toohoo-emmi again soon enough and though it was a bitter defeat for him, the black magic medicine man would not leave us alone for long. He would have to be challenged again.

  We reached St. Thomas a day later and I did then begin to relate the events to President Young and herein record them for myself alone as it was not recommended that we share such foul sorcery with the body of the Saints.

  ***

  The last night we remained in St. Thomas, there was a dance and gathering of the Saints. President Young did advise them to be sober minded and such but it did not dampen the festivities much. I was discussing some of the recent political maneuverings with you [Mr. Bonelli] and as you may recall I was called away by a Brother Sorenson.

  Now I shall relate the rest of the evening to you and leave this full recollection in your care as I cannot take it back to Salt Lake and further scrutiny.

  I was told that on the southernmost edge of St. Thomas there was a ruckus of some kind. Some said that it was not unlike the one the first night we had arrived and that it was involving the Paiutes. Still I was advised to go as I had some doings with them in the days previous and it was thought that perhaps I could help in calming things down.

  I arrived to discover that Brother Rockwell was already there and was facing off with a rather large Paiute. Who to my astonished eyes turned out to be Toohoo-emmi himself. He spoke in an angry broken English, calling down blood and fire upon Rockwell for the destruction of his city and his acolytes. That he did blame both Rockwell and Chief John for the desecration of his sacred priesthood and he was there for terrible revenge and through the power of Xuthaloggua [his toad-like idol] he would conquer.

  Chief John had not been found as yet but Rockwell did not seem worried. He said to the big Paiute to, throw down and do his worst.

  Toohoo-emmi then raised his hand which held the curious idol and crying aloud the earth rumbled and rose at his very feet.

  I was aghast at the sight of it.

  In a circle of some twenty feet round, the ground churned and pitched as if boiling and then a blast of lightning went from his hand that held the idol of Xuthaloggua, to Rockwell, centering upon the medicine pouch from the Paiute maiden that he still wore.

  While the lightning from the toad did seem intense it was swallowed whole by the medicine pouch and no harm came to Rockwell.

  Whatever force there was blasting from the vile shaman, it was taken and held by that maidens pouch. Rockwell looked askance at the blackened pouch and then to Toohoo-emmi and he said dryly, My Turn. He drew his snub-nosed Navy colts and emptied both barrels into the dark shaman.

  There was no effect at the impact of those slugs. The dark man smiled mockingly and proclaimed the power of Xuthaloggua and I could see that even Rockwell was worried a moment.

  But as Toohoo-emmi went to attempt a second blast from his idol, the Paiute squaw who Rockwell had rescued twice over, struck the toad-like deity Xuthaloggua, with a broad stick.

  The wicked shaman did wince in fear as the broken clay god crumbled in his hands from the sundering. He then grabbed the squaw and stabbed her with his dagger.

  Rockwell shot again and this time blood flew from the shaman’s chest.

  I counted at least nine direct hits in the big man’s torso as he shook with the force of them and then fell over dead with a look of astonishment upon his face.

  The maiden was dead and for her Rockwell did mourn.

  But those who had gathered cheered and swept over to Rockwell and then some cast stones at Toohoo-emmi’s corpse and even his destroyed idol. Before I could say anything, Rockwell admonished them to stop and bury the wicked man’s body right where it lay, especially since the ground was already broken up and made for easy diggings.

  After this was done, Chief John arrived and asked about what had happened. He looked to the medicine pouch Rockwell had and proclaimed that it had done what it was intended and was now used up. That seemed to strike Rockwell fine and he cast it off.

  Chief John was also rather concerned on where Toohoo-emmi was buried and he was shown approximately where that was. But because the ground had been thrown up in such force it was difficult to tell exactly where the body lay so a guess was ventured forth to tell Chief John and he then went and fetched a sacred palm tree which he did plant on the spot that most agreed was correct.

  I thought it a strange custom but he assured me that it was necessary. He said that unless great care was taken it would be possible for as powerful a sorcerer as Toohoo-emmi to rise again from the clutch of death unless his dark spirit was contained by the sacred tree.

  I had seen the broken shattered body full of bullet wounds and my rational mind thought that his diabolical resurrection impossible yet, I had seen many terrible wonders that week previous including the lightning from Xuthaloggua and upheaval of the earth at his command so I cannot be sure how many more dark and mysterious wonders are in our world, hidden away in some terrible corner of the globe, defying, Nay! Even mocking our imagination and comfort in the world at what is both right and sane.

  Rockwell and Chief John and I did take the maidens body farther out into the desert and did give her a sacred funeral pyre, which we alone did witness.

  I leave this record with you my friend, that in case such information is ever needed again it will be at your fingertips to be put to good use.

  Until then, farewell.

  Walking among the sacred palms in the Moapa Valley, near St. Thomas.

  Above: Looking westward from the hills near the ruins of St. Thomas

  Below: Someone has been ‘Casting the Runes’ upon a sacred palm.

  “Whenever I take up a newspaper, I seem to see G
hosts gliding between the lines. There must be Ghosts all the country over, as thick as the sand of the sea.... We are, one and all, so pitifully afraid of the light.”

  — Henrik Ibsen

  The Thing in the Root Cellar

  Account of Isaac Jennings by Ace Perkins[30]: January 26th 1875

  With the Mormons moving out of Moapa Valley, Isaac Jennings had made quite the haul of selling off the lumber from their homes and acquiring the harvest from their fields which he purchased from them on promissory notes. Yes sir, he had made quite the deal considering his reparations would amount to little more than the cost of the seed they had been originally purchased for. And let’s not even get into the fact that he never did pay back one dime from those promissory notes either.

  Never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Jennings had done very well for himself all things considered. He harvested the wheat and had a ready market thanks to the Paiute Indian Agency and he even had the Paiute doing the work of harvesting for cheap! Yes sir, everything was looking quite all right for Mr. Jennings that is until he had something decide to call his root cellar its home.

  It all started when one of the more favored [on account of I could read and write] Ute work boys, by the name of Ace (that’s me) went to put some canned peaches down there.

  I had a good armload and then also a case of pickled beans made by Mrs. Jennings. I went down the stone steps and I unlatched the door which a big lock on account of Mr. Jennings didn’t want none of the Paiutes to steal his stores, they had been won’t to do that often enough. I only had the key for a short spell and only when he knows it was me that had it. Only took me a half second to know something wasn’t right.

  It smelled wrong, it felt wrong and the hair on the back of my neck stuck out like it was the cold of winter night and I was about to be swallowed by the dark.

  I heard a rasping of some kind and a shuffle in the dark like to think something was rushing right toward me, but I couldn’t see nothing coming and yet even in the darkness I could see the jars of peaches and fruit on shelves at my eye level all the way to the back, but still I knew something was coming. I shut the door fast as I could even though I dropped and broke the jars all over the stone steps.

  And I had shut it just in time too for something slammed against that door and I was up those stairs and away before anything else might happen to me.

  I hurried and went and found Mr. Jennings and told him about it. After he was done a swearing at me and telling me what a fool I was he went to go look for himself.

  Going with Mr. Jennings was his favorite hand, a big buck of a Paiute name of Charlie Three Toes[31]. I followed a short ways behind sure that I would be exonerated when they found whatever was in there.

  I honestly didn’t know what it could be, but what I did know was that it had a wicked bad aura about it, I knew it was there soon as I opened the door, though I never saw anything. I decided it must be a ghost since there had been plenty bad stories about ghost and evil spirits around here. It had to be that, especially since I didn’t see anything, but boy did it slam against that door.

  Well Mr. Jennings, he held a lantern and Charlie Three Toes held a shovel and they mocked me once again looking at the broken glass and peaches and beans on the stone steps. Mr. Jennings said he was gonna take that outta my pay and I knew that would be an awful lot of work. But I hoped it would be forgot soon as they experienced the ghost for themselves. I held my breath just a waiting for them to get a taste of that horrid spook.

  They opened the door just a tad at first, then a little more, but nothing happened. Charlie Three Toes opened it all the way and stepped in and still nothing. Mr. Jennings he went in and swung his lantern around and said, “See, nothing! You little fool. You’re going to pay for those jars and peaches and I’m going to charge you top dollar for them too!”

  I asked if they didn’t smell that awful reek and they each in turn said it was nonsense that’s just how root cellars smell this time of year when it gets musty and damp. I looked all about and sure enough, I didn’t feel that terrible presence no more, it was surely gone. I looked at the hard packed ground and there were no tracks, no sign of anything having been there and that’s when I was sure as could be that it was a ghost had been there.

  Being mighty nervous to go back alone, I took to make excuses and being busy with other work but by and by Mrs. Jennings got wise to me and sent me with another crate of canned beets to go into the root cellar.

  I in no wise wanted to go it alone and managed to convince Hailey Summers, a girl from my schooling who happened to be walking past, to go with me. She was a year older than me and liked to act it too but we were still friends. I didn’t bother to mention the ghost, I just told her there was something I wanted to show her in the root cellar. She smiled big and followed me.

  I fumbled with the keys and couldn’t do it on my own so I had to put the crate down. Hailey laughed a little and said to let her give it a try. I said no I could manage and then turned the lock and slowly let the door creep open. I was waiting for any sign of that spook when suddenly Hailey took my hand, pulled me into the root cellar and kissed me.

  I was not expecting that.

  I liked it for sure but couldn’t let go of that hint of worry about the spook being in the root cellar. Just then we heard that weird loud rasping, like a coughing fit or other and we just looked at each other and I told her to run and get out. I heard something coming but again I couldn’t see nothing. Just as I got the door closed it was pushing and stamping at the door with a good force. Then it stopped.

  Hailey up and slapped me. Said it was mighty cruel of me and my friends to scare her and take advantage of her, that I shouldn’t have spooked her into stealing a kiss like that, and again that ladies don’t do that kind of thing. I said I was sorry before I knew what I was saying sorry for and she stormed off before I could even say that I had no friends a spooking her in the root cellar that this was a for real ghost. But she was gone and the crate of beets was still outside the door.

  I knocked on the door and the spook started battering at it again and there was no way I was gonna open up to him. I did wonder at why he being a spook couldn’t just come thru the door but I guess I was also grateful that he couldn’t. I supposed that it had to be a spook since he was plum invisible and maybe a curse had been put on him being trapped in there on account of some bad things he had done in life. I had heard about another bad witchy man being trapped somewhere under a sacred palm once before.

  I decided I would go and get Charlie Three Toes and show him the thing rapping on the door. It took me a little while longer than it should have to find him and he was mad about it but came with me anyhow to check on the root cellar because I was so insistent and sometimes he likes me to read to him.

  At the door I knocked, hoping the ghost would respond in kind and start hitting the door again. But nothing happened. I told Charlie Three Toes that he had to believe me that the spook was surely there but just a tormenting me alone. He didn’t seem convinced but I told him it had scared the daylights out of Hailey Summers too and she ran away. That didn’t go no way in convincing him either but he said we best put the beets away.

  We opened the door and slowly looked in. I swear it had that bad stink to it but Charlie never could sell anything. I put the case away and told Charlie he had better come and check again with me sometime if he wanted me to read to him again.

  By the time I got back inside to do more chores Mrs. Jennings was powerful upset saying I was one of the laziest boys she ever did see. I tried to explain to her my predicament with the root cellar and she called me about all the names that Mr. Jennings already had too, but her way was just a little more spiteful.

  I went home wondering if I would even have a job the next day and a part of me figured it wouldn’t matter none, I shouldn’t have to deal with folks that talked like that or with their spooks.

  Sure enough come daybreak, Charlie Three Toes told me I wasn’t want
ed at the Jennings place that they didn’t need my kind of help. I know he was sorry to tell me but still it stung.

  Without work or school for the day I went down to the Muddy and decided I would try and catch some fish. I spent the better part of the afternoon there and caught a few of the big carp that I would take home to Mama Louise to cook. I decided to sun myself on a good sandy spot along the river and I left my dead fish in a small pool beside me tied up with string. I soon fall asleep and had some good dreams.

  I woke up at near sundown and was astonished that someone would steal my fish right out from under me. I had tied the fish together with stout cord through the gills and the whole caboodle was gone! I figured it had to be one of three boys I knew but then I saw something in the sand. A weird track of some kind that wavered across the ground through and left a peculiar toed print with claws. It was big as a man’s foot and I wondered what kind of man left such a print and would steal fish. I decided it was that damned spook, because none of those boys could have snuck up on me so quiet like, it had to be the ghost.

  I tried to follow the track but lost them in the grass. Of course it was heading back toward the Jennings place too!

  I went home hungry that night determined that next time I would not fall asleep after catching fish.

  Come the next day, Charlie Three Toes told me I was supposed to come to work. I was surprised but got up and went with him to the Jennings place. Mr. Jennings gave me another verbal beat down about responsibility and duty to the ranch and whole lot of other things I didn’t feel applied to me. Mrs. Jennings railed on how I had left them in a bind and that there was now more things than ever to clear out of the kitchen and put away in the root cellar.

  I truly wondered if I shouldn’t quit for good.

  I did however start carrying cases of jars out to the root cellar. When I got there what did that old ghost do to taunt me? But leave my fish heads and the cords on the stone steps. That mean old joker of a ghost was a taunting me more! They was covered in some kind of bile but there was no doubt it was my very own fish. I looked around a little more for some other sign but I didn’t see anything. I was mighty irritated though.