WHERE LEGENDS ROAM

by Lee Murphy

  Kodiak never thought the information in one of his books would come back to bite him on the ass, but there it was. He didn't say anything.

  "I still want to go after this animal, and I need you to do it."

  Kodiak still didn't know what to say.

  Montagna felt that he might have laid this on Kodiak a little too heavy-handed, so he tried to lighten the mood. "So, what's the word on you and Cyrena? You getting sweet on her, or something?"

  Kodiak didn't answer. He threw a stick into the fire and went to his tent. Ben was already asleep, looking like a monstrous caterpillar in his sleeping bag, and snoring loud enough to wake the dead. "Terrific," Kodiak muttered to himself as he took off his boots and laid back on top of his sleeping bag.

  Cyrena was in her tent three feet away. He heard her whisper, "Good night, George."

  "Good night, Cyrena."

  The Capture

  As a species the Sasquatch are transient by nature, never settling in any one place for long. They have no specific migration patterns and, like many other wild animals, make no use of caves. Any time they do bother with shelter, it is temporary at best.

  They do, however, have certain territories they favor, and the juvenile Sasquatch had come to this canyon after being separated from its parents when it was five years old. It managed to survive the next three years in the same manner as its adult counterparts. Being omnivorous, the creature fed from the abundance of foliage available to it in the woods, or preyed upon smaller animals. This Sasquatch found particular enjoyment in rolling over large rocks to remove small, hibernating rodents from their nests underneath and eating them by the handful.

  Oftentimes the Sasquatch would come upon the carcass of some large animal and roll in it to leave its scent. This was one reason so many witnesses reported them as having a "foul stench." Another reason was that, being bipedal animals, when the Sasquatch would urinate, the urine would run down their own legs and become matted in their fur.

  The Sasquatch watched the camp all day, and in the evening, when the only light was from the fire, it came closer to watch the humans as they ate their dinner. It also watched the pack animals, still intrigued by them. But it knew instinctively that, if the animals sensed its presence, they could panic and draw unwanted attention to it. So the Sasquatch stayed away from them.

  After everyone finished their meal, the fire slowly dwindled. The creature saw the scraps of food on the ground, and the bones from Ruth's kill. It would wait for the people to go away. Then it would make its move.

  Dave climbed onto the sturdy lower branch of a western red cedar, ten feet off the ground. There were some smaller branches beneath that wouldn't support his full weight, but if he had to scramble down they'd make an adequate ladder. He was wearing the nightvision goggles, and everything glowed phosphorescent green. The weather was a little cooler than he was used to, so he wore a lightweight parka and cradled the air rifle in his arms as he watched the camp.

  More specifically, he was watching Cyrena's tent. Once again she had turned his feelings around. During dinner she had come over to him and brought him some fish and a can of beer. She smiled at him and stayed to talk. This surprised him, because he thought she would be on the other side of the camp talking with Kodiak and Ben, who were both watching Ruth-less as she gorged herself on the animal carcass she had dragged into camp. Cyrena had asked him some more about his hobby, and they both talked about their jobs. He was a boxboy at a Seattle supermarket, but was hoping to make cashier before long, then assistant manager. As he talked to her he was nervous, probing and squeezing the pimples on his face, trying to keep his eyes on her face, and not her chest.

  He wondered if she was sleeping now. He felt like he was keeping guard over her, making sure Norm didn't sneak out of his tent and saunter over to hers. He felt bad for ever wanting to rape her, and when they got back to Seattle maybe he would even ask her out to dinner.

  The sudden crack of a stick somewhere in the dark startled him, and his throat seized up. The rifle almost slipped from his trembling hands, so he held it against his chest and looked around to see what caused the sound. The horses and llamas stirred slightly in the clearing by the river, then seemed to settle back down. There was no sign of any Sasquatch. He scanned the area once more, then sighed lightly.

  His thoughts went back to Cyrena. Was she thinking about him? He hoped so, even though he thought it unlikely. He tried to live by the old expression: hope for the best, expect the worst. And the worst was what life seemed to always have dealt him.

  He was gawky-looking: too tall and too skinny, with frizzy blond hair, a bad complexion and crooked teeth. He looked dimwitted, but he wasn't, and that's what made people's writing him off at first glance so painful. But he was guilty of not even trying to change things, choosing instead to draw upon old experiences, savoring the pain and poison of past victimization and torment. If he thought about them long enough, his hatred could keep him warm on cold nights.

  There was another sound, closer now. It could have been someone, or something, walking under the trees. He heard it on the pine needles that covered the ground, and he scanned the area again, and still saw nothing. But when he looked down, his heart skipped a beat. He gasped. The Sasquatch was standing directly beneath him, looking up at him with eyes that glowed demonic green in the nightvision goggles.

  Dave snapped the air rifle into position but started to slip off the branch. To keep from falling, he let go of the rifle and it seemed to drop a hundred feet in slow motion before it clattered to the ground at the Sasquatch's feet. The animal jumped back, then looked back up at him. Dave watched as the Sasquatch picked up the rifle. He could have shouted for the others, but that would just scare it off, and he wasn't sure they'd get a third chance at it. All he could do was wait and hope for an opportunity to get the rifle back. Despite his conscious effort to remain calm, Dave was scared. It wasn't as big as he'd heard they could get, and it showed no aggression, but he didn't like being alone with this thing-- especially if it could climb trees.

  The Sasquatch looked the rifle over, held it by the barrel and hit it against the ground several times. It bit into the stock, lost interest and dropped it back on the ground. It looked back up at Dave, who didn't move. After a brief observation, it turned back around and headed for the woods.

  Dave scrambled down the tree and grabbed the rifle in a near panic. As he watched the creature amble away, he felt like Roger Patterson as he rushed to get his movie camera out of his saddle bag to take those incredible few seconds of film. But Dave didn't have a camera.

  He steadied the rifle in his shaking hands and tossed the nightvision goggles aside, opting for the rifle scope. He aimed at its back and squeezed the trigger.

  The creature let out a startled squawk and stopped in its tracks. It didn't fall. It turned around and faced Dave. If it was hit, it showed no sign of the drug taking effect. It growled and started to walk toward him, not in any more of a hurry than when it was walking away, but there was a terrible sense of fury. It swayed a little as it came at him, but it did not deviate from its course.

  Dave was too stunned to move. He was shaking and felt too disoriented to remember which way the tents were. When the creature opened its mouth and grunted at him, Dave screamed. "NORM! JAMIE! IT'S OUT HERE! HELP!"

  This worked. Startled by the outburst the creature turned back and ran toward the woods. But now the tranquilizer was starting to work, and it was unable to run. It moved at a partial trot, teetering a couple times, dragging its feet along the dirt as it vanished among the trees.

  Norm and Montagna ran out of their tents, with Ben and Kodiak bounding out of theirs. Dave was pointing toward the trees, his eyes wide, and shrieking, "I hit him with the tranq! He's already starting to slip!"

  Norm had a flashlight, a big industrial model with a beam that shone a hundred feet. He led them toward the trees, following the sloppy path left by the Sasquatch. Judging by the footprints, it was going down fast.
They should find it fairly easy, and they knew it. They were emotionally charged and ready for anything.

  The animal had never experienced anything like this before. It was confused, angry and terrified. The initial strike of the dart stung very badly, and the Sasquatch pulled it from the small of its back. When it saw Dave standing back there it wanted to retaliate. But its head suddenly felt strangely light, and everything was spinning. It wanted to sleep, but knew it would be vulnerable to its enemies. It had to get away.

  The animal moved for the shelter of the forest, but it could hear them close behind, and its legs didn't want to carry it any longer. It knew it was going to sleep soon, but its will to survive pumped enough adrenalin to keep it moving. It would do whatever it could to defend itself.

  Suddenly, white light, worse than looking straight into the sun, was shone in the Sasquatch's eyes, blinding it. It let out a miserable squeal of protest.

  They found it! The ape had fallen to its knees and was clutching a large pine cone when Norm shone the light in its face. It bared its teeth at them and half-heartedly threw the pine cone.

  Norm laughed. "Fish in a barrel."

  Dave's voice was shaking. "Don't go near him!"

  "Just shoot him again," Norm said.

  "No!" Ben shouted, sounding as nervous as Dave. "That would kill him!"

  "This'll fix him." Montagna walked over and knocked it across the head with a tree branch. The creature turned to bite him, but Dave came up just as suddenly and kicked it in the abdomen with the point of his cowboy boot. It yelped like a hurt puppy, but lunged for Dave like an attack dog, baring its teeth and snapping.

  Norm cracked its head with the flashlight and then all three of them were beating and kicking it like a gang of thugs. The creature shrieked from fear and pain, but could not do anything to fight back, or escape. It whimpered, covering its head with its long arms and bringing its knees up against its chest.

  Kodiak stepped in and grabbed Norm by a handful of his greasy hair and threw him back. He tripped Dave, and Ben stepped on Dave's chest to keep him down.

  Montagna swung back with the branch to hit the animal again, but Kodiak grabbed it away from him and shoved him back. "That's enough!"

  They all got up and stared at Kodiak and Ben like children who had been cheated out of dessert.

  The Sasquatch was lying face-down on the ground, unconscious. Dark splotches of its blood looked like black tar in the moonlight. They finally captured Emory Pittman's Sasquatch.

  ***

  Montagna, Norm, and Dave worked on assembling the cage that would be used to transport the animal back to Emory Pittman's estate. Kodiak, Cyrena, and Ben took the Sasquatch's body measurements as it lay unconscious with a steel chain fastened around its leg. The chain was bolted to a tree.

  Based upon an admittedly cursory examination of the Sasquatch, it appeared its wounds were superficial. No bones had been broken, nor did its skull bear evidence of fracturing.

  Kodiak drew up a diagram of the animal that featured its proportions and body measurements for his own reference:

  SEX- Male.

  AGE- Juvenile, possibly 5-10 years, based on gorilla.

  TOTAL BODY LENGTH- 70 inches.

  HEAD (crown to jaw)- 13 inches.

  SHOULDER WIDTH- 27 inches.

  ARMS (shoulder to middle finger)- 37 inches.

  LEGS (inseam)- 32 inches.

  NECK (circumference)- 30 inches.

  CHEST (circumference)- 44 inches.

  WAIST (circumference)- 38 inches.

  UPPER ARM (circumference)- 18 inches.

  UPPER LEG (circumference)- 24 inches.

  FOOT LENGTH- 12.5 inches.

  It was absurd that at this, the pinnacle moment in the history of the worldwide search for this animal, nobody would have a camera. Emory Pittman strongly stipulated that the capture not be publicized. To ensure that no photographs leak out, Montagna had made a thorough and secret search through everyone's belongings, confiscating any camera equipment.

  Ben was speechless, staring at this creature about which so much myth and folklore had surrounded for hundreds of years. It was not to be feared, but admired. Upon the initial glance, its face did resemble a gorilla more than any of the other anthropoid apes, but not exactly.

  "George, look at this..." Cyrena had knelt down beside the Sasquatch and was studying its profile. The animal had a protruding nose. Looking at it straight on, the nostrils were flat and wide, but from the side, the nose was its most prominent facial feature, sticking out just a little beyond the muzzle.

  "That makes sense," Kodiak said. "There's been some speculation in scientific circles that the development of the nose played a major role in mankind's ultimate venturing throughout the world. The theory is that a protruding nose conserves moisture that would otherwise be expelled through a flat, ape-like nose. This kept the nose cooler than the rest of the body during times of physical exertion, such as traveling into the open grasslands away from the forests, thus allowing it to retain moisture that would keep the brain from literally over-heating.

  "No known species of ape has ever done what this guy has done," he said, admiring the unconscious Sasquatch. "If eye-witness testimony and physical evidence are any indication, then Gigantopithecus has spread to nearly every continent on the planet, second only to us. And his nose does lend credence to the theory."

  Ben's voice was dreamy as he looked at the animal. "Look at his head. Just like the ones in Tibet." In 1953 the existence of two relics had come to light during one of many expeditions to the Himalayas in search of the Yeti. They were scalps. According to the Tibetan monks, they were Yeti scalps. The first was discovered in a monastery in Pangboche, the second in another monastery located in Khumjung.

  They had been cut from the skulls, just above the ears, and were conical in shape. So much so, they almost looked like torpedo shells, except for a protuberant crest that ran vertically from above the brow to the top of the head. The age of these relics was said by the monks to be roughly three hundred and fifty years.

  The scalps were considered sacred, and the members of the expedition were not allowed to take them from the monasteries. They were, however, given a single hair which, upon examination by one of the foremost experts in hair identification at that time, proved to be of an unknown species possibly related to bears, or primates, but not humans.

  Then a third Yeti scalp surfaced at a monastery in Namche Bazaar. This one had been manufactured from two pieces of hide that were cut from the shoulder of a Serow, a species of Tibetan yak, and sewn together from the inside. They were placed over a mold of the Yeti scalp and set out to dry in order to replicate the other scalps. This caused a furor over the authenticity of the first two scalps, and many people wrote them all off as fakes.

  However, while the shape of the scalp could be replicated, the hair follicles and hair tracts could not be imitated. When compared to known anthropoid apes, the Yeti hair patterns came remarkably close in similarity, without being totally identical, to the gorilla.

  The Sasquatch that now lay before them bore the same tall, almost pointed shape to its head as the Yeti scalps in Tibet. Its hair was black and covered a greater portion of its body in comparison to the other anthropoid apes. Its facial hair came within inches of its eyes, and covered its chest-- another physical trait seen in the Patterson film.

  Its teeth were bigger than a gorilla's of comparable age, except for the maxillary cuspids, or canines, which were shorter and blunter.

  Although the animal's skeletal structure showed evidence that it did walk erect like a man, the rest of its features were strictly simian; particularly its hands, which measured ten inches long, possessed a non-opposing thumb, and lacked a thenar pad beneath the thumbs. Its fingers were a lighter color than the skin of its face, like the fingers of a heavy smoker; a nicotine tinge, almost copper.

  The palms of the animal's hands and the soles of its feet were covered with exceptionally thick pads of compress
ed fat that not only insulated them from the extreme cold and the harsh environment, but tended to give their surfaces a smooth, almost creaseless appearance.

  The most striking characteristic of the animal's foot was its heel, which projected farther back from the ankle than a human foot. This would allow proper weight distribution for such a heavy animal-- something also seen in the Patterson film.

  In two hours the titanium cage was fully assembled. It was eight feet long and three feet in diameter; big enough to accommodate the animal without giving it too much room to move around. It was designed to be carried between four or six horses, depending upon the size of the captured beast. Once the Sasquatch was inside, the two end pieces would be bolted in place.

  Montagna and Norm walked over to where the others were measuring the creature, and Norm panned his flashlight over it. He was laughing and half-drunk from the six pack he had put away after beating the animal senseless. "Look at that, Jamie. Why do you suppose he's got such a little wiener?"

  Montagna looked at the creature's genitalia. "I remember reading something that said apes have smaller dicks in comparison to humans. You must have some Sasquatch in you, Norm." Everyone laughed, except Norm who spat. Then Montagna said, "Let's get him into the cage."

  Ben, Norm, and Dave helped Montagna lift the slumbering animal off the ground by its arms and legs. Despite its slim build, the Sasquatch weighed more than two hundred and fifty pounds, and its backside dragged across the ground as the four men hauled it to the cage.

  Kodiak stood among the shadows of the trees, watching to make sure the idiots didn't harm the Sasquatch any more than they already had. He held the clipboard to his chest and was pretending to write on it, but his thoughts were elsewhere. If they could have read his mind, they would have killed him.