Chapter 3
STEPPING OUT OF THE HOTEL AT DAWN, Trevor was still tired from his restless night of tossing and turning. The disturbing feeling he had from the story the night before still lingered with him.
Walking through Seton Portage, Trevor realized why it was known as a sleepy little town. He met some town folk who were also up with the first light. After chatting with them for a while, he found a little restaurant in town and had a nice big breakfast of pancakes, eggs and bacon. Trevor began to feel better.
At the town’s bank, he opened an account with a small pouch of gold that he had panned himself. With this he bought a year’s supply of dried food like sugar, salt and flour. He was hungry to find a deal on a crate full of canned beans. Visiting the law office, he stumbled upon a deal to purchase a cabin on a parcel of three hundred acres. With two new horses to pull a used wagon, he loaded the wagon with his food and some furniture for his new empty little cabin.
A few of the town’s folk, who noticed Trevor, seemed interested in his purchases. Riding his wagon by a couple of young ladies, they giggled at him in a flirtatious manner.
Trevor nodded to the young ladies, giving the edge of his hat a slight tug, and with smiling eyes he responded, “Good day.” with a pleasant smile. Right away people turned away and began talking. Trevor found this both awkward and embarrassing so he pulled his hat down snuggly over his head, strapped his pack on his back and studied his map.
Setting out on his long awaited journey, Trevor longed to hike all day and survey the land. His only bane was a dreadful uneasy feeling.
Images from the stories he was told flashed through his mind. ‘Would the approach of evening bring with it the terrifying screams I heard the night before?’ He pondered.
Trevor took his wagon up to his newly purchased abandoned cabin where he unloaded his stuff. When it became dark, he lit a lantern and led his two horses into the corral. Making his way from his barn to his cabin, he felt distant eyes watching him. He tried to shake off the feeling and do his best to walk casually, but half way to the cabin he felt jitters like he had as a boy. Trevor tore off running to his front door.
Inside his new home, Trevor locked his door. A sense of safety eased his high strung bones. Holding his lantern out ahead of him, Trevor found his way up his stairs to the loft where he had his bed prepared. There, he spent his first night in his cabin. ‘It might take some work to get used to living in this strange new place.’ He told himself.
The cabin was cold so he spent the better part of the morning collecting wood and preparing a fire in the old wood stove. Up before the sun, he finished unloading his wagon. Setting what little he owned in its place, Trevor found the new items gave the whole home a welcoming and lived in quality. Wondering through his new home, he examined the details of it. Becoming better acquainted with home, he went down into the cold cellar. To do this he had to go through a trap door in the middle of the floor of his main room. Trevor inspected every post and rail of the old structure several times over. The more he checked it out, the more he liked it.
The farm was everything Trevor could have hoped for and more. The three hundred acres teemed with what looked like tall burly grass. A closer inspection revealed that it was wheat stalks.
He still had such a long way to go to get settled. Trevor wanted to buy a cow, some chickens and a small herd of sheep, but he needed to make some money first.
Looking at his run-down old cabin, he knew he needed a lot of money to run a successful farm here.
As Trevor went from one job to the next, he was determined to have his farm prepared for livestock very soon. There was much more that he needed to do than he first anticipated. He had to rebuild the chicken coop and repair fence posts and railings. Dunnage was collected stacked and burned. Everything needed to be washed; hinges oiled and weathered wood replaced. Paint was too expensive and had to wait. When Trevor had his list together of all of the things he needed, he found the cost of the tools and materials alone would run him right out of money.
Trevor stood out in the middle of his field and looked up at the enormous mountain that looked down on his backyard. ‘This is where I have to begin.’ He decided. In that mountain, he planned to set traps, and hunt and pan for gold from the rivers and creeks.
Taking a moment to rest, Trevor leaned on his fence. Looking down he noticed an ant hill in a stir. Countless red ants poured out the top of the mound and trekked down the steep sides like lava. ‘What were they in such a state about?’ Some of the grasshoppers had landed on the colony and found themselves quickly subdued by the red soldiers.
Trevor watched nature reveal a little of its darker side before realizing he had much to do. Days were short and Trevor was grateful he wasn’t an ant.
Trevor thought back to the many years he had spent at sea aboard the battleship ‘Marne’ headed under the strict Naval Captain, Jim Jones. He shuddered at the thought of his many memories. His experiences brought his life to the brink of desolation many times, but he owed his life to the hard leadership capabilities of Ol’ Jim Jones, many times over. Trevor still had flashbacks of battle, too many nightmares of fire, smoke and the threat of drowning at sea. No, this time he would do things differently. This time he would be the captain of his own life’s course. Yes, he would do it. Trevor was determined to make his dreams a reality and he was going to get started right away.
Heading back to the cabin to make his necessary preparations, Trevor threw his pack together quickly with a couple of candles, a couple of pieces of fruit, a few cans of beans and a box of wooden matches. He also needed his trusty pocket knife, a small canvas tent and a thin woolen blanket.
Heading out across his field, Trevor climbed over his barbed wire fence and disappeared into the thick forest.
Three miles up the long slope at the base of the menacing mountain, Trevor came to a flat clearing. Under some tall alder trees, he pitched his tent. Feeling comfortable with the forest after spending so much time in it with no incident, Trevor focused as a hunter.
On many occasions, hiking through the indigenous wilderness, Trevor’s mind conjured up suspicions of a creature that was silently hunting him. In the forest there are many sounds. It isn’t a sane place to entertain insane thoughts. At the sound of the snap of a branch Trevor could feel the hair stand up on the back of his neck.
He paused motionless for a moment, like a deer. Chuckling quietly to himself, Trevor realized just how silly the Sasquatch story was. ‘How naive could I be?’ Trevor wondered. The story he heard was designed to scare him. ‘They probably tell the same story to every new comer. We did the same thing to new recruits. It’s about too many people crowding in on their gold and furs.’ He took a deep breath and shook his head. ‘No, I won’t give into fear.’ He vowed.
When it came time for him to fall asleep, however, he tossed and turned all night. He heard strange sounds from all around his perimeter. The bushes shuffled and rustled. Critters cooed amongst the insects. All were busy in their own party of social conversations. The whole time, Trevor half expected the screams of the wild creatures to return.
Finally, late into the night, Trevor slipped away and gave into his much needed slumber. He slept so deeply, that even if the creatures did begin howling in the night, he would not have stirred. In sleep Trevor competed with hibernating bears.
Sleeping in late, Trevor practically missed breakfast entirely. When he finally did rise, he felt great and it was thanks to a quiet night. This gave Trevor cause to believe that Elliot’s story was completely false.
Then, favor decided to shine on him further when early in the day, Trevor found tracks running up into the snow of higher elevations. The tracks belonged to a herd of elk. If he could hunt down even one, he would be on his way to starting his exciting new life; a life he had been dreaming of for years.
Though the tracks led him higher into the mountains than he wanted to go, Trevor found he was close. The signs were in both the snowy tracks and the f
reshness of the scat, but the most telling sign was when he heard it call out like the moan of a bull-horn. Just over the rise he bore down on his quarry. He could see the steam of its breath, then the set of antlers. Nearby, Trevor located another set of antlers.
The elements were in his favor. Not only could he see the entire herd, but he was situated downwind of them. Leveling his rifle, he took his time with his aim. With the opportunity to be selective, Trevor squeezed off the shot. The blast from the barrel echoed off the tall stone walls making it sound like multiple shots. Though it was a hit, the bullet had embedded itself in the hind quarter of a large buck. It wasn’t enough to bring the animal down.
It wasn’t the instant death he wanted or envisioned. ‘What could have messed up my shot so bad?’
The animal darted off with the herd. It looked like Trevor would be in for a bit of exercise. Running after the herd, his boots sank deep into the powdery snow. This made each step of his pursuit strenuous. Trevor wanted to give up until he found the trail of blood.
He had experienced this sort of thing before where his kill wouldn’t die in the same place it was shot.
As Trevor followed the blood line, he found another set of tracks that came down the steep snowy slope and ran amongst the herd. They were much larger like an animal with tree stumps for feet. Trevor was able to follow both the traces of blood and the odd new snow prints. A short distance away, the strange tracks separated from the path of the herd. Trevor needed to decide if he was going to follow the tracks of the elk or go after the creature to verify Elliot’s story.
He decided the elk was priority one because going after some fabled legend wasn’t something he had time for. There would be more than enough work for him when he reached the fallen elk.
Through the trees and steep terrain, Trevor was exhausted. If the elk didn’t lay down for him soon, he’d have to abandon his pursuit. The snow became deeper and he wasn’t equipped with snow-shoes. Making his way over a ridge, Trevor saw the herd’s tracks trailing off into the distance ahead of him. He had to accept that his elk was lost.
Doubling back along his own tracks, he came back to the fork of tracks where the huge depressions left from the strange creature remained. His curiosity had the better of him. Following the tracks up to higher ground, they led Trevor a short distance to a broken ice cavern of steep walls. Risking a look over the edge, he found by going in after the creature, he’d surely fall to his death. If he managed to survive, he’d be trapped down there.
Trevor gave up. He called it a day. Once again he turned and followed his own tracks through the snow. As he trudged along, he was deeply discouraged that both of the animals he went after had eluded him.
The weather became more aggravated as the daylight grew short. The wind howled and Trevor shivered with an uneasy feeling that the creature was near. He really wasn’t interested in finding out if such a legend were true anymore. As he scanned his surroundings, he looked up at the steep jagged rock that rose up out of the snow overhead. Peering at it with sharp eyes, he inspected it carefully. It turned out to be void of any life.
Making his way back, Trevor stopped on occasion to examine the footprints of the creature up close.
Narrow at the heel and wide at the toes; just as Elliot had said from the description of the footprints left in his story. The prints were also very deep, much deeper than his own footprints could push into the snow. Such a creature must weigh a lot more than any other animal he had ever seen.
Before long, Trevor came to the junction of the path where the creature’s footprints came down from above to join with those of the herd. He would either follow his own tracks down the mountain or he could follow the tracks back to wherever the creature came from. He thought about going back to his camp, then to return early the next morning to find out where the tracks would lead, but he knew the overnight wind and snow would cover everything.
Something deep inside told Trevor that this was a rare opportunity. He would regret not looking into it. He needed the answer or the mystery would haunt him for the rest of his life. Besides, he’d return with a cowardly story to tell Elliot, but most of all, Trevor was just plain curious about the existence of such a creature. All he wanted was a glimpse. That would be enough. Then, he’d know if there was any truth to Elliot’s story.
Taking the first step, following the footprints up the mountain, Trevor found with every two steps he took, the creature had taken one. ‘How tall could this thing be?’ He wondered.
At one point, the tracks led up and over a steep ridge of tall, sharp rocks. Believing the rocks were too high for him to climb over, he decided to turn around and head back, once again. Evening was approaching and he knew much of his journey back would have to be done in the dark.
A shrill whistle was carried on the blustering northern winds. The chill bit into his face, then the whistle became louder to the point where it didn’t sound natural. The long sounding whistle died down to a horrific scream. The hair on the back of his neck stood straight up. This was the same sound Trevor heard from his room at the hotel.
He was close. Trevor was certain of that. On the other side of these rocks he would finally see the creature. Trevor examined the rocks again. Sure enough, there was a way to get over, but he had to back down a short distance and shimmy his way across to an odd out-cropping of large stones. Through this out-cropping he found a pass that led over the ridge. Trevor climbed up the rocks and made his way over. There he could see why they had named this mountain, Crater Mountain. Before him was a barren depression of oddly shaped stones that surrounded a low, frozen lake. Trevor found that the wind was calmer in this place as the wind passed overhead. Floating in the air, just over the surface of the lake was a blue hazy mist. Trevor strained his eyes to see, for behold, around the lake there seemed to be the impression of tall men.
Trevor froze in the presence of the crippled figures. The look of them frightened him so, the cold didn’t penetrate him to his bones like these creatures did. When he realized he wasn’t being attacked, he found the people rather lifeless. With these strange shapes not moving very much, Trevor discovered some of them were grotesquely misshapen and hideous.
Sitting in this secret place as he observed the strange people. The tips of his fingers and toes hurt from the cold. After a long while, he realized they were all inanimate objects though an eerie feeling told him it was a trap. He could imagine the stone creatures coming to life and attacking him.
Still, he moved out amongst them. Trevor approached the first strange creature and found that it was entirely molded out of sandstone.
‘Did the wind do this?’ He wondered. Up close, the standing stones didn’t resemble a man at all. Claw marks upon the smoothness of the rocky shapes suggested they were not formed naturally, nor by human hand, rather these strange shapes were created by something very different.
Further evidence revealed countless oversized footprints stamped throughout the thick snow. The deep depressions of the footprints revealed the mucky clay below the layer of ice and snow.
Trevor found it difficult to pick-up the trail again, until he found tracks at the far end of the crater that led down a steep snowy embankment. With difficulty he climbed down the steep grade of powdery snow until his feet slipped out from under him. Falling, Trevor ended up at an area between two mountainous peaks. Looking up at the mountainside where he fell, Trevor noticed the footprints of the creature next to all of the snow he had disturbed from his fall. ‘How did that creature climb up that when I could barely climb down?’ He speculated.
Brushing the snow off, Trevor stood up and wondered where he was. The tracks of the creature headed downward through a tight valley of tall rocks. There was no point going after the creature. It was long gone.
In darkness, Trevor had to figure out how he was going to survive the night on the mountain. It looked like an old avalanche had gathered and filled the area between the two peeks.
Through the blistering wi
nd, he saw in the distance, two huge rock slabs. They had come down, wedging into the center of the slide. The tops of the slabs came together to form a peak over a cave.
A few stunted trees had grown at the entrance. Trevor paused, making a mental picture of the spot. Turning again to the valley far below, he thought about his cabin, unattended.
Twisting around quickly, Trevor looked over his shoulder with a start. His soul shivered with a chill. He was troubled with a disturbing feeling of fear.
He found no sign of creatures coming up behind him, but it didn’t ease his tension.