CHAPTER FIVE
HEART POUNDING WITH FEAR
Settled in, at last, we sat with our blankets tightly bundled around our shoulders. Charles’ attempt at building a fire was certainly successful. We were sitting about six feet from the stone fireplace, but the heat was reddening our faces, already. We were both re-thinking our negative view of the fast approaching darkness. With the warmth of the fire the cabin was actually beginning to feel quite comfortable. I found myself lying back on my cot and slowly letting my eyes close. I must have been asleep for a few minutes when I was startled by a strange movement on my leg. I opened my eyes and looked down the length of my pants and began to scream. “Help! Help!” I jumped up, slapping at my pant leg as I did and ran outside into the biting wind and snow. I turned around and saw Charles standing at the door with his head pointing skyward laughing as I had never seen him before. “Did you see that?” I asked Charles, as I stood and brushed the snow from my clothes. “I’m not sleeping in there tonight! I’ll go sleep in the Jeep,” I said excitedly.
“That won’t be necessary, Ian,” Charles assured me, still laughing. “That was just a big old pack rat. They’re as afraid of you as you are of them.” I walked back into the cabin peering cautiously as I did.
“I guess I’ll take your word for it,” I said as I sat back down on the edge of my cot. Just as I did, Charles suggested we walk up front to get some snacks and something to drink before it got dark. We put our coats on and headed out tromping through the snow toward the gas station. We were greeted by Mrs. Parks as we entered the door.
“Well, boys, how’s the cabin workin’ out?” she asked.
“Very comfortable,” Charles answered. “It even came with its own pack rat. Right, Ian?” She laughed and her eyes sparkled.
“Guess I should have warned you about ole Ben,” she smiled. “He’s lived there a couple of years. Never has paid any rent though. He’s a real rat. Ha, Ha, Ha, Ha,” she laughed loudly. We knew she thought she’d made a funny, and so did we. We both joined her in a big laugh as we warmed by the fire briefly.
After we had picked out some snacks, we thanked her, wished her good night and set out on our return journey back to our cabin. In the few minutes it took to arrive, all signs of light had almost disappeared. We gratefully pushed open the door and stomped off any snow we could. “Whew! It’s gonna be a cold, bitter night,” Charles said. “We better batten down the hatches and hold tight.”
“That wind is really howling already,” I responded. “We better keep that fire burning, or we’ll freeze to death.”
“You just go ahead and sleep, and leave the fire to me,” Charles said. “I’ve been this route before.” I once again lay back on my cot and stared at the ceiling. Charles and I talked about our plans for the next day and even about his adventures as an F.B.I. agent. Soon, I rolled over on my side, curled up and closed my eyes. My lights had gone out.
“Roarrrrrrrrrr – Roarrrrrrrrrrr –Roarrrrrrrrr.” I jumped off my cot and listened intently. “Roarrrrr.” It sounded like a lion at the zoo. I looked over to see Charles peering out the window.
“He’s over there, Tom,” we heard a voice yell in the distance. “Go get the boys!”
“Neigh . . Neighhhhh.” Horses neighing and the sound of thundering hooves could be heard close by. The ground seemed to move below the cabin as horses blindly ran past our cabin. Charles cracked the door to investigate all the commotion and pulled back immediately.
“There’s horses stampeding, Ian,” Charles said. “Stay inside till it’s clear.”
“Tom, Joe, Billy! You guys head off west toward the gulch, and Jack and I’ll try to corral ‘em when you turn ‘em.” We could hear orders being shouted in the distance and wondered what was up.
I carefully and slowly opened the door and stepped forward slowly to get a better look. “Roarrrrrrrr – Roarrrrrrrr.” I froze in my tracks. “Roarrrrrrrrr.” I looked up at the roof toward the sound and was petrified. I saw two large eyes in the darkness of the night. My heart began pounding wildly. I couldn’t speak, and my legs wouldn’t work. Sweat began trickling down my brow and into my eyes. With my eyes as big as saucers, I was keenly aware of what I was staring at, now. It was a mountain lion. I could see the powerful leg and back muscles as they tensed and the huge teeth as the head strained forward toward me. I wanted to scream out to Charles for help, but my fear had paralyzed me and left me to the mercy of my enemy above. Finally, after what seemed like minutes, I cried out
“Charles! Help!” Just as I did, I rocked back on my heels and fell backward into the deep, fluffy snow. Aware of the danger I was in, my eyes remained fixed on the mountain lion even as I fell. My movement had been followed and had obviously upset the lion as he crept forward, slouching down into, what looked like, an attack position. Opening his mouth he showed me every tooth he owned and roared ferociously. “Roarrrrrrrrrr! Roarrrrrrr!” The next thing that happened will be with me forever. His body seemed to coil into a tightly wound mass of muscle, and he appeared to shift his weight backward. Then, the nightmare of all nightmares happened. He released all that stored up energy and was flying through the cold, night air toward me. His paws were outstretched, mouth wide open, and the eyes were intensely fixed on my body. The horror I felt was indescribable. Though it all happened in a flash, he seemed to glide like a bird in the sky. I closed my eyes knowing shortly I was sure to be torn to shreds and devoured.
A loud crack rang out…. and then another. It was the unmistakable sound of gunshots as they echoed throughout the entire valley. I heard a loud “thud” in the snow next to my head and quickly rolled over to see what it was. Not two feet away was the massive body of the mountain lion with blood coming from its mouth and a large hole in its side. A large hairy hand grabbed me by my shirt and pulled me upward.
“Are you all right, Ian?” I checked myself over and turned to see Charles standing behind me holding the rifle Mrs. Parks had loaned us.
“I guess,” I managed to gasp.
“That was a close call,” he continued. My heart was still beating so hard I could feel it in my throat. I collapsed back into the snow. The experience and my fear had drained me of all my strength. I couldn’t move. I sat there in the snow trying to get myself together. The sound of horses behind us could be heard riding fast. Within seconds five riders appeared out of the darkness with rifles in hand and quickly dismounted.
“You boys O.K.?” a big man with a large beard asked. “We heard shots fired and thought there might be trouble,” he continued.
“Not now there isn’t,” I managed to get out as I nodded toward the ground. He looked over and saw the mountain lion lying dead in the red-stained snow.
“Well, I’ll be a son-of-a-gun,” he said taking off his cowboy hat and scratching his long, curly, dark head of hair. “Boys, look at this. They’ve killed that mountain lion we’ve been huntin’. Guess you boys are gonna be heroes around here; that’s for sure.”
“You’ve got our thanks,” another one added, as they all took turns shaking our hands.
“You boys better get inside or you’ll freeze to death,” the first man said. “By the way, my name’s Jack Nelson. I own the local garage. We’ll get this cougar out of here, and see you in the mornin’. Thanks, again.”
Charles and I spun around and retreated to the warmth of our cabin. We turned and watched the riders put the body of the dead cat across the back of one of the horses and secure it with ropes. Then they mounted their horses and looked toward our cabin as we stood in the doorway, smiled and tipped their hats as they began riding off. We waved back and slammed the door shut on the cold and blustery night. I looked at Charles and with tears almost forming in my eyes, I held my hand out to thank him. He grabbed my hand in his, put his arm around my shoulder and squeezed me tight. “No words necessary,” he said. “Everything turned out fine and we’re still healthy.” I couldn’t get the words out to express my thanks. But, I knew he had just saved my life by shoot
ing that mountain lion right out of the air. What a shot! Two shots before he hit the ground, and both hit their target. I was totally drained, sat down on my cot and covered up with my blanket. It must have been the exhilaration of the adventure because I soon found my eyes closing and vaguely remember Charles’ powerful, but gentle hands pulling the blanket up around my neck as I lay down. “Good night Big Guy,” he whispered. I heard his comforting words, but by then I was almost asleep and certainly beyond being able to respond.
I awoke the next morning to the sound of the door being slammed. Squinting, I could see Charles’ sillouhette in the brightness of the cabin window. “Good mornin’, sleepy head. Ready for the big day today?” he asked.
“I’m sorry, Charles. I didn’t mean to sleep so late,” I said as I jumped up and tucked my shirt in.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “It’s not late. It’s just bright out because the sky’s so clear and blue. That nasty storm blew through and took all that bad weather with it,” he finished. I laced up my boots, shuffled slowly toward the door and cracked it slightly.
The brightness was blinding as the sun, still low in the sky, was reflecting off the sea of white as far as the eye could see. As my eyes became adjusted, I could see a pretty little lake fed by a run of water dropping from the mountains surrounding us. Briar bushes, crabapples, and plum thickets seemed to line the creek’s shoreline, just as they did at the orphanage. Snow covered as they were, birds of all descriptions were flitting here and there searching out any old fruit buried in the wind swept mounds. I closed the door tightly and turned to see Charles poking at the fire, knocking it apart. “Let’s gather all our gear and clean up before we take off,” Charles said. “I’ll put out the fire. You fold the blankets and break down the cots.” Charles headed outside and returned with a bucket of snow to put over the fire. You could hear the hissing sound of steam as the snow smothered our once roaring fire. Charles put on one more bucket and was satisfied the job was done. We took a look around and walked out the door for the last time. We headed towards Mrs. Parks, and as we did, we passed the spot in the snow where the cougar lay dead the night before. Though the wind had blown all night, visible spots of bright, red blood could still be seen. We paused, momentarily, looked at each other and started walking. After that, we never looked back.
Arriving at our Jeep, we opened the door and put our gear inside. Charles took his gloved hand and began wiping snow from the windows and lights. “Good morning to the heroes,” came a voice behind us. We turned to see who was, by now, our easily recognizable hostess, Mrs. Parks. “The good Lord must have sent you boys here to us,” she declared. I hear that was some mighty fancy shootin’. One through the heart and one through the eye. I swear you aren’t any tenderfoot after all,” she smiled and said as she approached Charles.
“You’re the hero, ma’am,” Charles told the old lady. “Without this rifle you loaned us, my friend here may have been killed. For that, I thank you,” he finished.
“Breakfast is on the house,” she blurted out. “Come on in, and sit till it’s ready.” We followed her inside to the dining room. Opening the door we were met with clapping and cheers of, “Thank you!” The room was packed, and the tables were filled with every food imaginable. There were plates of elk, antelope, ham, eggs, bacon, fried potatoes, biscuits and jars of preserves and containers of thick, sweet honey. Everyone in town must have been there to thank us for killing their mountain lion. This certainly wasn’t expected or necessary, but it made us feel wonderful. We ate and visited with all the people and then gave our apologies and told them we had to be on our way. After saying our good byes, we headed out with Mrs. Parks trailing behind.
“It was short, boys, but you made a big impression, and I’ll miss you.”
“Mrs. Parks, you’re a lovely lady and very cordial. We appreciate all the considerations you’ve shown us, and we’ll miss you as well,” Charles replied.
“That mountain lion’s gonna make a nice rug,” she said, “and every time I stand on it I’ll think of you two.” She gave each of us a big hug and wished us luck. We jumped into the Jeep and started it up. Backing up slowly you could hear the sound of snow crunching beneath the tires. We looked out and saw Mrs. Parks waving good-bye as we pointed our jeep toward the highway. Hartsel good bye and Lost Gorge here we come. Finally, today I’d meet my host family, and I couldn’t wait.
The Ghost of St. Elmo Page 5