by Matt Musson
Freddie couldn’t wait to answer that question, “It’s deer meat.”
“Deer meat? You mean like Bambi’s mother?” Shad asked.
“That’s right,” Freddie smiled.
“Cool!” Shad exclaimed. “Hey Hondo, can I get a piece with horns?”
Like hungry grasshoppers we devoured everything Hondo put in front of us. Then, he topped himself by pulling out an old crank freezer. We sat around the campfire cranking out homemade Orange Sherbet that was made from genuine Orange Crush soda. We all took our turns spinning the silver cylinder in the vat of salted ice and water. When the sherbet finally hardened, Hondo appeared with a scooper and a large box of ice cream cones. Everybody had at least three orange sherbet cones – even Hondo. The sherbet was a cool end to a warm day. After finishing up the ice cream, we cleaned up the dinner dishes. We needed an extensive wash-up to get melted orange sherbet off our hands, faces and hair.
Once everything was put away, we thanked Hondo for another memorable meal and headed for our tents. But tonight, we were not heading off to sleep.
**********
Because Bogdon did not have a tent partner, part of his tent was being used as a storage area for the Club. The insides of the Big Egg had been scattered about on the tent floor while Bogdon, Charlie and Toby studied them. But, since we had more pressing problems this evening, we gathered all the high tech parts and put them into a large canvas duffle bag. Plates that were removed from the egg were screwed back into place and we rolled the empty shell into the corner.
With plenty of space to work now, we unlocked our army surplus footlocker and started pulling out our night vision equipment. The footlocker had a fresh coat of paint and was covered with warnings like ‘fragile’ and ‘electronics’ and the inside contained special padding for delicate instruments.
In anticipation of this trip, we purchased some new top of the line hands free goggles. These were the kind that strap on to your head and the optics stick out in front of your face like some insect apparatus. Each eye is covered with its own eyepiece, but the two are joined in a Y-shaped connector to a single green night scope sticking out front. We tested our gear and checked our batteries. Then, each of us grabbed a semi-automatic paintball marker gun and dialed up the pressure for extra range and maximum impacting power.
One by one, we killed the lights in each tent and moved into our forward positions. Thor and I were stationed in the spider holes on each end of our row of four tents. We sat two man teams inside of tents 2 and 4. The teams were Bogdon and Shad, and Toby and Freddie. Of course we split Shad and Freddie up because we knew that together they could not stay quiet for any length of time. Charlie manned tent 3, using a night vision scope with higher powered optics for extreme range.
The waiting was the hardest part. Every ten minutes we had to respond to Charlie’s IM so he could be sure that no one had fallen asleep. By the time Charlie sent out the message marking our first hour on watch, I was getting pretty stiff in my cramped hole. I began wondering if our nocturnal visitor was going to lay off for the night.
Fifteen minutes later we caught some movement from the tree line directly across from the chuck wagon. But it turned out to be a couple of large possums searching for leftovers.
As boredom set in, Bogdon and Toby started playing chess in their heads. They sent out IM’s for each move. Shad started sending out knock knock jokes. I was afraid that he might send something really funny that would make us laugh out loud. But, I did not have to worry. We did have stifle a couple of groans though.
Finally, after about two hours we got a visitor.
Movement at 10 o’clock, Charlie IM’ed.
I raised the cover on my hole a little higher and peeked out slightly left of center. Sure enough, within a few seconds I could make out something large moving out of the trees towards our camp. Whatever it was, it moved slowly and deliberately across the field. It gave me a chill to realize that it was stalking us! I was glad that we had taken the time to prepare an adequate reception.
The creature approached the glowing coals of the camp fire which provided us with enough ambient light to see detail. It was large. It walked hunched over on two feet. And, then it turned in our direction. We saw something that scared the tar out of us.
IT HAS THE HEAD OF A CAT!!!, Toby sent.
We watched the creature circle the campfire, and I began to wonder about the wisdom of actually confronting it. Then I noticed something strange. The Wampus Cat had a stick with something on the end of it. He was pushing it into the soft ground as he moved.
What’s it doing? I broadcast.
He’s making tracks, Charlie Replied.
The creature pulled something out of his back pocket and used it to rip up the canvas back of one of our camp chairs. What was going on here?
The Wampus Cat started heading toward our tents. With each step, it pushed its track-making stick into the ground. It was halfway to our location when we got another urgent message from Charlie. FAKE HEAD! IMPOSTER! FAKE HEAD!
When the Wampus Cat approached within 50 feet of our position, I was able to make out what Charlie had seen. The Wampus Cat was definitely a man wearing some sort of costume that appeared to be a skin with a stuffed Cat head on top.
We got another message from Charlie. Get ready…
About 20 feet in front of our tents, the fake Wampus Cat stopped and put his hand to his mouth and let out a feline Snarl that I recognized from my previous encounter. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out something and started unscrewing the top.
NOW!!!
I popped the top off my hole and started shooting as fast I could pull the trigger! And, I was not the only one. We all came out firing and the Wampus cat was in our cross hairs.
We were using glow in the dark paintballs mixed in with our regular ammunition so it gave a really neat tracer effect as we fired. I could see several trails of paint balls moving through the darkness, converging on our intruder.
“OW! DANG! QUIT! STOP!”
The creature was taking some heavy fire and quickly turned its back towards us. Dropping the track-making stick, it ran around in circles looking for some cover. The cat head fell off as he dived for the only bush in the area. That, of course, was the bush that we placed on top of the pit we dug.
“WOAHH!!!,” he yelled as he fell face first into the big hole.
Just like we planned the saplings that were bent back, sprang forward and threw the heavy weighted tarp over the top. And, we had caught ourselves a Wampus Cat.
All the commotion did not go unheeded throughout the rest of our camp. I saw a light come on in the chuck wagon. Within a few seconds Hondo came running over carrying a lantern and something else besides.
“What in tarnation are you boys up to over here? I swear it sounds like World War three startin’ up.”
Toby had switched on a small battery powered lantern. With the light it provided he was able to walk over and pick up the intruder’s discarded costume. He lifted up what looked like a stuffed mountain lion head with an attached pelt.
“We caught the Wampus Cat!” Toby said triumphantly.
By this point, Thor and I had climbed out of our positions. We joined the rest of the Rangers gathered around the pit where something was still struggling under the tarp. As we pulled off our night vision goggles, I took a deep breath. There was a terrible odor in the air.
“Yuck,” said Freddie. “What the heck is that awful smell?”
Charlie reached down and picked up a small glass bottle.
“Trapper Bob’s Skunk Essence,” he read out loud.
“Fake skunk smell. Fake cat costume. I’m thinking you boys captured a fake Wampus Cat. But, just to be on the safe side I better double click him.”
“Double click?” asked Freddie.
“Yep,” Hondo replied. “That means I am gonna cock both barrels on
my shotgun!”
He moved over to the hole.
“Well, I guess we better let old Maynard Bart out of your Wampus Cat trap,” Hondo said.
Thor, Charlie and I grabbed the ropes attached to the weighted canvas cover. With a coordinated heave ho, we unwrapped our captive. It was indeed Mr. Bart.
“How’d you know it was him, Hondo?” asked Shad. “We’re you in cahoots with this pole cat?”
“No Shad. I just put two and two together and got four. Yesterday when I went down to the General Store for extra supplies, I ran into Bart here loading up 50 lb bags of sugar. He had a least half a dozen he was putting into an old wheelbarrow. I figured right then and there that he was making something up on that ridge that he wanted to keep us away from. That’s why he pretended to be the Wampus Cat. He was hopin’ to scare us off before you boys stumbled onto his secret while you were out fishing or counting raccoons.”
“What was he doing with 300 lbs of sugar? Does he have a secret bakery?” asked Shad hopefully.
“Oh, he was cookin’ something. But, it wasn’t pies and cakes.”
Hondo paused and then he explained, “When a man is carting sugar into these mountains, it’s a pretty safe bet that he’s cooking corn liquor.”
With his hands in the air, Mr. Bart climbed out of the pit. The big man looked awfully sheepish after being caught red handed. Paint balls splatters covered his hat and clothes. His face and beard were also streaked with glowing yellow smudges. In the first unexpected volley he had lost his grip on the bottle of skunk smell and spilled it all over himself. He was ripe!
Standing downwind and staring into Hondo’s two barrels, Mr. Bart admitted that he was the Wampus Cat. After apologizing repeatedly he alibied for himself.
“I’m just a poor fella trying to make a living in these tough times.”
“And you have a still up on the ridge? Where you make alcohol?” prompted Bogdon.
“Aye, I do. But it’s mostly as a cure for rheumatism. You could say it’s just a home remedy I make for myself and a few friends.”
Mr. Bart pleaded with Hondo, “You aren’t going to call the sheriff on an old man who’s just trying to help his neighbors are you?”
“The way I see it, it ain’t up to me,” Hondo replied. “These boys caught you. They kin decide what to do with you.”
While Hondo watched the prisoner, the Rangers huddled up for a quick meeting. It did not take us long to decide Mr. Bart’s fate.
Charlie announced the verdict, “As President of the Granite Falls Rangers, I can tell you that the club has decided to set you free – on one condition.”
“What’s that?” asked Bart. “I’ll do anything you ask.”
“Well,” said Bogdon. “We want to see your still.”
Of course Mr. Bart agreed to our request. He told us the exact location of his still and the best way to hike across the ridge. We told him that we would stop by tomorrow or the next day. He was so relieved at being sat free; Mr. Bart even gave us the mountain lion skin he wore when he impersonated the Wampus Cat.
Thanking us again and again he walked off into the darkness, still glowing a little from multiple paintball splatters. As he disappeared in the distance we gathered up our gear and took it back to Bogdon’s tent to put it away.
“Hey guys, where’s the night vision footlocker?” I asked.
I searched around the tent but it was nowhere to be seen.
“It’s not here.”
Toby looked up and added, “Where’s the egg?”
We were too tired to think straight and now we discovered the egg and our footlocker were both gone. We were puzzled. But, our bedrolls were calling, so we went to sleep. It was the next day before we had a chance to sit down and contemplate what had happened.
We reviewed the facts the next morning, and they were perplexing. We had last seen the footlocker and the egg right before we took up perimeter positions protecting our camp. Seven sets of eyes with the finest night vision gear available were scanning the approaches. No one fell asleep. No one left their station.
Yet, someone or something had managed to penetrate our tightest security precautions, come into our tents and make off with two large and bulky items and disappear.
We did not see them. We did not hear them. We had no idea who ‘they’ were.
We adopted a spiral pattern as we searched for any signs of the intruders. For two hours we examined the area, sometimes on our hands and knees. We found lots of suspicious things but they all turned out to have been made by someone in our own group. But, sometime around midmorning we caught a break.
Freddie was searching along the cliff face behind our camp and came across a definite foot print in a muddy low spot against the rock. The foot print was new because some of the grass was still crushed down.
Charlie followed up this discovery with a particularly surprising clue. He identified a muddy spot on the cliff face above.
“We have to accept it,” Toby stated. “Someone repelled down that rock in complete darkness. They snuck into our tents. They located the egg. Then they took the egg and our footlocker up the side of the cliff, in the dark, without being spotted or making a sound.”
“Maybe it was Mr. Bart,” Freddie suggested. “Maybe he circled around after he walked off. Then, he climbed the mountain and repelled down and found the stuff…”
Freddie did not even finish his statement. He realized halfway through that it was too absurd to contemplate. There was no way the Maynard Bart could have done this. Especially not in the 5 minutes between our letting him go and our returning to the tents.
“Maybe there’s a real Wampus Cat,” Shad said. “Or maybe some other ghost lives in these mountains. It has to be something, because I don’t think a regular man could have done this. Not in the dark. Not without our hearing or seeing something!”
Toby agreed. “Shad is 100% right. No regular man could have done this. It is impossible.”
“So, do you think it was a ghost?” I asked.
“Well,” said Toby. “Sherlock Holmes says ‘When you have eliminated all which is impossible, then whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.’ So, yes, I think we are looking for a ghost. In fact, I think we are looking for a whole squad of ghosts. Whoever did this is way outside of anything we have ever encountered. They took the egg and when they realized we removed the insides, they took our footlocker too. After all, it was labeled ‘fragile’ and ‘electronics’ and it was locked.”
Charlie added, “I bet they were surprised when they got the footlocker open and it was empty.”
“Yeah”, said Bogdon. “But, that means they are probably coming back tonight for rest of it.”
“Well, how do we stop them?” I asked. “How do you catch a ghost?”
Charlie smiled broadly and gave me a simple answer, “The same way you catch Santa Claus,” he said. “You hide under the Christmas tree.”
**********
Our camp was already set up. Our spider holes were dug. Our positions were all ready to go. So, there wasn’t much preparation necessary for catching our ghost.
Bogdon and Toby did set up one piece of juicy bait. After studying the egg’s insides for two days, they were pretty sure which part was the homing signal. The crash to earth had jarred loose the battery connection and it was not broadcasting. They reconnected the battery and it started beeping and blinking.
As darkness fell, we polished off more spectacular Hondo Yarnell cuisine. Then we retired to our tents and strapped on our night vision gear. Thor and I returned to our holes and put our covers on. The rest of the guys took up their positions inside. Bogdon’s tent was empty except for the large canvas duffle bag filled with electronics. The drawstring was left untied on the end and it emitted a barely audible beep.
Charlie IM’ed everyone – “Eyes Front – No Peaking”
We didn’t have lon
g to wait.
We were deliberately not watching the cliff so we did not actually see the four man team come scaling silently down the 60 foot drop. Of course, with their own night suits and intricate camouflaged paint they would not have been visible to the naked eye.
Silent as a panthers and as deadly as cobras, the mystery men unclipped from the ropes that disappeared upward into the darkness. Their leader checked the small tracking device he was carrying. Using only hand signals, he pointed his men toward the correct tent.
With a practiced stealthy move, the point man peaked into the window. When he confirmed it was empty – he used his hands to open up the small slit he had made in the back of the tent the night before.
The leader motioned for his two outside teammates to keep a sharp lookout. Then he and the electronics expert slid into the tent through the entry way being held open for them. Once inside, they pulled our footlocker in behind them. The leader held up a dark grey tube and snapped on the filtered red flashlight beam. He shined it on the duffle bag and motioned for the electronics expert to open it up further.
Freddie IM’ed us all ‘They’re Here’
Without a sound, the electronics expert looked inside the open end of the duffle bag. His training stood him in good stead when he found himself staring into the pair of bright shining eyes that were peering back. In the dark green world of night vision, he could not know the eyes were blue and the hair was shocky red. But, he could make out the ears that stuck out at a 90 degree angle that belonged to Granite Fall’s smallest Ranger.
“Hey guys,” said Freddie. “What’s new?”
**********
I guess you really don’t want to startle a trained killer. Even if he is using restraint, at the very least he may wrap you up like a pretzel.
That’s why we picked Freddie, our least threatening Ranger, to man our trap. He is the smallest club member, but he has the biggest and friendliest smile. He also fit into the duffle bag.
When Warrant Officer Charlie Estevez, USNA was startled that evening, at least his response was not lethal. “Hot damn and holy Bleep!” the Seal Exclaimed. “Who the bleep are you?”
