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The Crater Mountain Sasquatch Legend, Page 2

Robert A. Hunt


  Chapter 2

  FOURTEEN YEARS, later a small town had taken form at the bay of Seton inlet. A man by the name of Trevor McKinnon stepped off the deck of a paddlewheel boat to the dock that led to the small town of Seton Portage. The only item in his possession was the pack he had slung over his shoulder and a hunting rifle.

  He was a rather large man of healthy and bulky proportions. His beard was short and dark but beginning to take shape as it made up for the lack of hair on the top of his head. Trevor McKinnon was an internationalist right down to the marrow of his bones. His marine uniform jacket bore the colors of his previous career unit: Navy blue with red and white lining. Some of the colors of his uniform were from the old United States Navy, the renowned and justly feared battleship; the USS Marne. Trevor was excited to leave the military life and begin a whole new journey.

  Tall evergreens stood around the little town like giant protectors. They waved their arms freely in the breeze as fresh mountain air was gently available to all who breathe.

  Trevor spent time walking throughout the town. Down the dusty main street he found there wasn’t a lot of selection besides the saloons, but it would be enough to get by. There was a small general store titled, ‘April and June’s.’ This store was built next to a smaller county store. The street also included a blacksmith, a tin shop, a bakery and an old schoolhouse across from the short windy road to St. James’s Anglican Church which was built on a rise.

  The hot sun was high in the sky and the little shops would soon be closing. Trevor had his newspaper, folded up and tucked high in the pit of his arm. It was in the paper, Trevor read about Seaton Portage as one of the hot spots to start a prosperous life in the new world. He wanted to see what the town had to offer because it was his first time there and he planned to stay for a very long time. Trevor wanted to make a life for himself as a member of the young new town.

  After checking out the neighborhood and the county store, Trevor found himself at the end of the street and at the foot of the popular Seton Portage Pub and hotel. Taking his newspaper in hand, Trevor unfolded it. The paper heading read, ‘The Spotlight;’ Dated, November, 22nd, 1865. Glancing through the attractive article once again, Trevor couldn’t keep the smile from stretching across his face. He was doing it and his excitement grew with each step he took up the front steps. The main door jingled as Trevor stepped through it. There was nothing strange about the hotel. Everyone welcomed him with good cheer and uplifted spirits.

  Checking in he received the key to his room, Trevor strolled into the pub. He bought himself a frothy mug of beer and began to socialize with the common folk of the community. They talked about mining in the area, fur trading and gold prospecting. Trevor found some very interesting information that inspired his own hopes of success. He couldn’t wait until morning so he could get started.

  When Trevor stood up from the table to go to his room and retire for the night, a waitress smiled at him, but his mind was full of business and until he fulfilled his dreams of success, he wouldn’t be interested in the affairs of the heart. As he stood up and tried to get around the woman, they found each other in close proximity and the waitress couldn’t help but to comment, “You have the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen.” Though the waitress was beautiful, with bouncy blond curls and a uniform pressed clean and lined with frills, Trevor found her to be a little too friendly for his taste. She seemed to be more flirty than just friendly. This ruined the mood for Trevor.

  Smiling back at her, he replied like a gentleman, “Charmed.”

  That night, in his room, Trevor lit some lanterns and cleaned himself up. Laying down in the bed, he slid into the fresh sheets. Feeling relaxed he opened an old map of the area and studied it.

  The wind whistled past the window and the shutters began to flap. The noise distracted his rest. Rising out of bed, Trevor opened the window to secure the shutters. He had to stop what he was doing for a moment, when he had the window slid all the way up. In the distance, he heard the most peculiar sound. It was like the anguish of a woman far off in the distance. He tried to focus on the dark mountain next to the town but there was nothing for him to see. Then the sound of the woman’s wailing subsided.

  Trevor secured the shutter and thought, ‘There are strange things happening all over the world every second. What am I to do about it? I hope the woman is feeling better now.’

  Just as he was going to duck his head back into his room the sorrowful cries began to start up, yet again. Trevor did a double-take, and shook his head, feeling this was not his problem. He brought his head back into the room and slid the window shut. Blowing out his lamps, he wandered off to bed. Curling up in the sheets, Trevor could still hear the woman screaming. He felt it was just in his mind and that it would pass, but it didn’t. Rising up again, he returned to the window. He decided he would be able to convince himself that the screams were in his head if he opened the window and found it to be silent, save the sounds of the wind.

  When he did open the window, he heard the screams clearer than before. Sitting up, he listened to the out-cries of pain. He planned to do so until they stopped. He wasn’t going to get any sleep anyway.

  Then, Trevor noticed the cries that came from a distance to the west seemed to be answered by other similar screams coming from the east.

  So tired and unable to sleep, he grabbed his robe and decided to try walking off his frustration. Trevor hoped he’d end up tired enough that when he returned to his room, he’d collapse in his bed and immediately fall fast asleep.

  Placing his key to his room in his pocket, he trudged down the hall and went the long way down to the far stair-well. This led him to the pub again. As he walked past, he noticed a group of people huddled together talking. They occupied a table at the center of the room. Trevor walked past them and heard a little of their conversation.

  Apparently, he wasn’t the only bewildered newcomer, and others had the same questions he had concerning the mysterious commotion outside.

  Their conversation was, indeed, in respect to the distant cries of agony and pain. This fascinated Trevor so he lingered near the group to hear more. Perhaps someone could provide some answers. No one paid any mind to his presence for all of their attention was on a couple of men, who were doing all of the talking.

  The first man was a short burly fellow who appeared to be one of the hands out at the old mill, “I know what’s making those screams outside, but it’s not the makings of any man, woman or child. No, there’s something else behind those cries entirely… There’re many people who live here in this town and who can tell some tales, but because they’re so unusual, they have their reservations about sharing them with outsiders. Most outsiders think of such tales as paranoia, or hoaxes. If you’ve seen what they've seen, you wouldn’t be a skeptic any longer. If you knew what they knew, you’d leave those sounds well and good alone...”

  Then one of the guests of the hotel pressed him by asking, “Well, if you know so much about the screams, why don’t you just tell us? We can decide if your story is sincere on our own.”

  “Really? Well, have you heard about the Andersons? They live in a ranch house about five miles up the road. Mr. Anderson claims that he saw a large man standing in his back yard near his trees. The thing could stand perfectly still, but when it realized it had been spotted it took a step into the shadows and disappeared. He caught it a few times near his chicken coop. It was apparently trying to catch a chicken. Mr. Anderson fired a shot over its head with his .22 rifle. He said it could jump clear over his six foot fence and run away with the speed of the devil.

  “Three nights ago, he recalled his wife saw a large shadow pass by the living room window. It was very quiet as it moved. When she went to alert Mr. Anderson, he returned with his rifle only to hear its massive weight creaking the floor boards of his back porch.

  “He could hear the creature rummaging through his stuff. He crept up to the door and threw it open. There he saw the hairy back of the creature
as it was going through his back porch meat locker. It turned around and was startled when its eyes met Mr. Anderson’s. It had a chain of deer sausage hanging out of its mouth.

  “Though he was scared, he shouted, “Hey! What do you think you are doing?!”

  “The creature nearly fell backwards off his back porch. Deer sausage and other dried meats were strewn all over his backyard in a terrible mess. Mr. Anderson, so upset and scared, fired a shot at the creature and hit it square in the back. He’s a pretty good shot, so I doubt he could’ve missed such a wide target at such close range. But the creature bounded away with the chain of sausages in its mouth. He hasn’t seen it again since, but he worries it’ll return for revenge. I’m sure the Andersons won’t get a wink of sleep tonight, but I’m not really the best source of information for you people. Elliot Preston here is who you want to listen to. He has a story that’ll keep you up for many nights to come.” He gave his friend a slap on the shoulder, “Don’cha Elliot? Tell these people yer story, eh?”

  Elliot was reluctant to tell the people anything, but the people were so curious. He was a flush faced, obese little man with a gratingly false-hearty manner and a pencil mustache and beard. With flat jowls and dirt stained, callused hands, Elliot had enough township clout to make him perhaps the most respected citizen under the mayor. They kept prodding him and he felt telling them the story would be the only way to silence them.

  “Oh, alright then, okay, but I’ll warn you now. What happened to me and my pals was very bizarre.” Everyone at the table nodded their heads and quieted down. Some of them even ordered some drinks and made themselves comfortable. The whole room fell silent as Elliot began to recite his amazing tale. “A group of us hunters in town, known as the Copper Creek Coachmen, would get together, on occasion, to bring back deer or elk for the town butcher. We have to work as a close knit society out here if we are to survive, you know, and we’re often able to do quite well for ourselves for the most part. This particular trip, we numbered five in total and each of us brought our hunting dog. Our first day was pretty good. We were able to nail us a half dozen pelts before we made camp.”

  “That night we heard many strange sounds. There were thumping sounds of heavy footsteps near our tent and whistlings that didn’t come from the wind. This made the dogs snarl. We had them tied up together outside and we felt better knowing they were out there to watch over us. All of these noises scared us all pretty good but they trailed off and we were left alone to sleep, but then, in the wee hours of the morning, a dreadful scream woke us all up. It was like the screams you heard tonight, but much louder, as though the person who was responsible for the racket was standing right outside our tent. The dog’s barking followed the horrendous sound. We all jumped up and stumbled out of the tent, but there was nothing to see. The camp was vacant. We thought it was some kind of animal but none of us were quite sure what animal it was. We got ourselves together and went out in search of the culprit.

  “When we returned to the camp we found our fire had been tampered with. Burned logs charcoal sticks and ash were thrown about. None of our belongings seemed to be touched but as we searched the area, we did find some strange tracks. They looked like footprints of a man, only much bigger. They were narrow at the heel and wide at the toes. These strange tracks were accompanied by another set of footprints that were no different from a human’s. The dogs were going crazy at the scent. There was five of us, the founders of the Copper Creek Coachmen, each armed with a rifle, and a dog. We had a sense of invincibility. We also had a plan. We built up the fire so it was good and hot with nice tall flames, then we walked off into the woods and took positions just outside the camp. One of us took the dogs over the ridge and tied them up to a tree there. Each of us made sure we had a full view of the camp and the hiding areas we made were barriers of bush and camouflage. A good two hours passed and there was nothing. The men began to wonder if the mysterious visitors would even return.

  “We were just about to go back down to the camp when the bushes began to stir. Then, out came a creature that walked upright no less like a man. It walked right out into plain view. This was not a bear, nor was it a man. It had to be about eight to ten feet tall. When it walked, it put its heel down first. The entire thing was covered with long thick reddish brown hair and its massive arms reached down to its knees. As it looked around the camp, we could see its face was like an ape.

  “It was very quiet, perhaps listening, then it went to the fire. The fire was just red kindled coals by that time. It reached down and pulled out a stick from the fire with a flame at one end. To the surprise of the men, the creature began to jump around and wave the stick. It was fascinated by the fire. When the fire went out, the creature stopped and examined the smoking tip of the stick. It seemed to know not to touch the still hot tip. Losing interest in the stick, he tossed it to the ground. He went to the fire and picked up a new burning stick and repeated his silly dance before throwing it to the ground, again losing interest. Then it stopped peculiarly as though it heard one of us or caught our scent. Not one of us moved a muscle. It stood like a still photo for a moment before lumbering off into the forest.

  “We were about to come out of hiding when it returned holding the hand of a female creature of its own kind. We knew because it had breasts. While we observed, too scared to reveal ourselves, we were disturbed to see a young human girl come out behind them. The girl may have been of Indian descent, but she was so dirty, it was near to impossible to tell. She was dressed in skins, with her hair matted and dirty. The creatures paid more attention to one another than to the young human girl.

  “Finally, after making a terrible mess of the fire, they strolled off into the forest where at the wave of a tree branch, they seemed to disappear. The men and myself came out of hiding. Without a word, we all shared the same eerie feeling in our guts. The experience of seeing these creatures for the first time made us all feel rather ill. The smell that the visitors left behind made us feel worse. After a moment of deliberation, we decided to go after the creatures in a rescue attempt to save the young girl.

  “Quickly gathering only the bare minimals, the others went to get the dogs. We ran as fast as we could. We did catch up with them at the site of an old prospector’s cabin. It was built near the edge of a narrow twisty canyon.

  “The creatures were ambling around it and examining it with interest. Wasting no time, we set the dogs loose. When the creatures noticed the dogs, I fired off a shot into the air. They tried to escape, but the dogs cut them off and bit at them. The creatures swung their great arms. If the dogs cowered away, they were alright, but when the dogs lunged at them, the male would grab them with incredible speed. Then it tore them apart. The large male Sasquatch moved in front of his female mate and the young human girl to protect them. Bending forward, it opened its arms wide and roared.

  “I stumbled back to the ground. The female threw the young girl over her shoulder and dashed off into the forest.

  “With the five of us at a face-off with the hairy beast, we opened fire on it. The creature turned away and screamed a shrill cry of agony.

  “It was just like what you hear outside, only much louder. Even stranger, the creature wouldn’t fall. We fired more shots at its back and not one of us would have been able to miss at that range for it was so big. The creature took a few wide steps toward the canyon. It seemed to go weak in the knees before it flipped over the edge and fell into the canyon.

  “We were about to congratulate one another when a deathly howl sounded from behind us. We turned to see the biggest creature of our lives. This one stood an easy fourteen feet high and it was the most ferocious devil you can imagine.

  “We turned and bolted for the cabin. Each of us; so frozen with fear, we didn’t use our rifles.

  “This huge creature could’ve easily killed us all with one swipe of its arm, but it chose not to. We all stumbled over one another as we ran in complete fear. The roaring beast was no less right behind
me because I could, quite literally, feel and smell its putrid breath. It stomped its feet as it marched past us and the cabin. We thought it was going to attack us, but instead, it went over the edge of the canyon. We think it went down to check on its fallen comrade.

  “No doubt it found its friend dead at the bottom of the jagged crevice. The screams came up again. Faint at first as though muffled from within a great distance, but the shrieks quickly rose louder and louder. Before long, the forest was alive with the horrible screaming and as one would end another would start, but from another direction.

  “The men began firing their rifles in all directions until we made our way inside the cabin seeking safety. The last of us finally dashed up the steps of the front porch and ducked into the door that faced the canyon.

  “I told the men to calm down, “Don’t use up all of your bullets on targets we can’t see.” Amidst the horrible screams, came the thunderous sound of feet stomping around. We could see the movement of their hairy forms moving past the windows. We were surrounded and there were so many of them. They ran around the sturdy little cabin stirring up a terrible noise. The sound elevated to what it would be for an ant amongst a stampede of horses. We were so scared when they started to strike the cabin snarling and roaring. They jumped up onto the roof at which time we all began to fire our rifles. Like a hoard of women wailing and screaming, they were driving us to insanity. Then, huge stones broke through the ceiling at us. We became braver as we went to the windows and fired at any moving shadows we could see. They had us surrounded. I couldn’t tell how many were out there.

  “Then, it quieted down for a moment before a terrible thump came from the back wall of the cabin. They had all come at the cabin at once, pushing it. We all fell to the floor. They pushed so hard that the whole cabin began to move. Between the thundering pushes, I managed to make my way to the front door. It was the only door. I braced myself as they gave the old place a good long push. Looking out through the broken window I watched as the entire porch disappeared over the ledge of the canyon. The creatures meant to push us over. I opened the door to escape, but when I looked out, I was staring down into the foreboding darkness of the canyon that was about to swallow us whole.

  “Another push. I stood up at the door again as the cabin was pushed right out to the center of the chasm. I turned quickly and ran back to the men. They were at the far wall screaming for their lives. Another violent thunderous push, then the cabin began to tip over the edge. Because of the odd construction of the cabin, being an old place with an add-on that was built much later, the front half tore away and disappeared over the edge with the loudest sound of logs snapping and breaking. As the front half of the cabin fell, it took the entire roof with it. When the roof tore away over our heads, our half of the cabin settled back down to the ground.

  “Bill shouted with wild tense eyes, “Let’s go!!!” He got up and jumped over the wall to the creatures on the other side. I cannot say what had gotten into us but we all followed Billy’s lead over the wall. We all landed amongst the creatures and they all seemed just as bewildered as we were.

  “Standing around us, waving their arms, the creatures roared menacingly. There were too many of them to count.

  “Dashing into the forest, we ran and we ran. The sound of the creature’s footsteps were behind us, but when we stopped, the heavy footsteps would mysteriously stop.

  “We finally returned to town in quite a state to say the least. Hardly anyone believes our story. Perhaps, because I’m the only one out of the five of us who will tell it. Needless to say, not one of us has dared to set foot in the forest since.”

  The crowd of people kind of broke up after Elliot’s story was told. Some of them applauded. All of them were smiling kindly, but their true opinions of what they had heard were reserved. Trevor stood up casually and departed. He went back to his room and crawled into bed. This time, with Elliot’s story running through his mind. He still couldn’t sleep. Then, the sounds of the distant screams came again.

  Was Elliot’s story true? He wasn’t sure. No, he decided it was just too fantastic to be true. He wouldn’t let a man make a fool out of him by playing on his fears this way.

  Trevor held the pillow down tightly over his head and willed himself to sleep.