“That?” Solomon replied as he put a chunk of meat in his mouth. He smiled as he chewed. After swallowing, the mountain man pointed his knife at the thing hanging on Tim’s fork. “That’s a nadreddet vein.”
“A nadreddet vein,” exclaimed the researcher. “That means these are…”
“Yup, snake,” Solomon informed him.
“But they are huge,” Tim gushed while pointing at the slabs of meat.
“Yes, they are,” Solomon stated as he cut and speared another piece. “If you want, after lunch, I’ll tell you how huge.”
Tim studied the platter and the mountain man before shaking his head in the affirmative. Then, he cut another piece, put it in his mouth, and joined Solomon in chewing the snake steak.
After lunch, Tim clicked on the recorder and sat back with a mug of wine to listen.
Chapter 6 – Living the Slither
I spent the rest of that winter healing and helping around the machine shop. Between repairs and maintenance on the equipment, I forged the shield. The next time I went hunting, I’d have some defense to balance my sword work.
Spring came early and I geared up and went in search of the bones from the snakes. At the rock formation and the trees on the edge of the meadow, there were no signs of the colossal nadreddet or the bodies of the dead ones. That wasn’t unusual as snakes fed on other snakes and, with the limited game in winter, a ready meal of a relative was to be expected. For a week I circled the higher elevations but failed to locate anything other than a few rattlesnakes and several black snakes. The third time I crossed paths with living and calm deer, it solidified my thoughts that the oversized snakes had migrated to another area.
Wildlife was plentiful up there so I decided to check the lower elevations. I began sweeping across the mountain as I descended. Twice I crossed circular clearings. I ignored the symmetrical shapes until I walked into a third. Getting down on one knee, I inspected the ground. Under the trampled grass and brush, I found animal dung and blood spots. Shifting to another area, I found the same thing. It was almost as if animals had been herded into the circle and slaughtered. However, there were no bones or pieces of hide or flesh as you would expect from attacks by wolves, bears, or big cats. Other than the droppings and leaked blood, the circles of smashed vegetation offered no clues. I pulled out my map and plotted the three circles. Then I extended the arc they made which gave me a general heading. I marched out of the circle in that direction.
An hour later, barking, whimpering, growling, and howling of terrified wolves drifted through the trees. I increased my pace but the ground was uneven which slowed my progress and took me off track. And in the forest, soundwaves echoed confusingly off trees and traveled over and around hills. These flawed indicators put me off course and I emerged from the trees at the top of a cliff. Below me was the explanation for the circles.
***
Two growling wolves trampled the mountain grass as they patrolled around and around. In the center, two more wolves howled as they guarded four pups. Their frantic movements and noises were directed at three massive nadreddets. Slithering in an ever-tightening circle, they had the wolves penned. Beyond the snakes, I saw the bodies of two dead wolves with long wounds in their sides.
One of the wolves from the center attempted to breakout. The animal ran for a space between the snakes. As it approached, the nadreddet in front reared its head up and twisted back. Before the mammal reached freedom, the head snapped downward, and the fangs broke its back. With the injured wolf whimpering and squirming on the ground, I expected the serpent to begin feeding. It didn’t. Instead, the nadreddet resumed circling.
I’m no fan of wolves. And I planned to kill snakes but watching the nadreddets hunt in a pack, I almost felt sorry for the wolves. But mostly, I felt relieved when I realized the misdirection of my march had saved my life. Down there I would have been prey for either kind of predator. On the cliff, I was safe.
I pulled the shield and the pack off my back, leaned against the equipment, and studied the tactics of the snakes. While solitary creatures, serpents have been known to work together while hunting. But nowhere in my studies had I read a case detailing this degree of coordination and discipline between reptiles. For a snake to ignore living prey and maintain a formation in order to increase the available food, gave me a sick feeling. Now I had to worry about synchronized counterattacks after my next assault. The thought had just entered my mind when a branch snapping behind me pulled me back to the present.
***
A variety of predators roamed the mountain forest, and I didn’t know what was there. I slipped my left arm through the strap of the shield leaving my right hand free. Either I’d pull the pistol or the sword depending on what I found. Rolling over, I used the face of the shield to push off the ground and stood. Then, I pulled the sword.
The snake was easily forty feet long. Of course, I might have overestimated but when you face a monster, the last thing you think of are exact measurements. The nadreddet’s head waved high above me and the forked tongue flicked the air. It didn’t seem to have detected me, yet. Probably the smells and activity at the base of the cliff were filling its senses with snakes and wolves. Both had stronger aromas than a puny human. In school and in my spare time, I read military books as well as science texts. The military taught that hesitation will get you dead while boldness gives you a chance to live.
I wanted to live so I charged at the gigantic reptile. The raised section of its body resembled a gold and red tree trunk. If the tree was bowed out and supporting a head with fangs as long as my body. The first slash cut deep into its flesh which was good. On the bad side, it brought me to the nadreddet’s attention. A second hack and I noticed the scales sliding over each other as the snake compressed its body. That could only mean the creature was drawing in its head preparing to strike at me from above. I had nowhere to run that wasn’t in the reptile’s killing radius. Releasing my hand from the shield’s grip, I let it hang on my arm and pulled the bowie from its sheath. Then, I hopped around the bleeding wound to get behind the raised segment of the snake. There I reached high above my shoulder and drove the bowie’s blade between the scales and into the snake’s back. Using the bowie for an anchor, I climbed up.
My legs barely fit as I straddled the nadreddet. With my left hand holding the bowie’s hilt as if it was a saddle horn, I chopped furiously with my sword. After three powerful hacks which caused chunks of snake meat to fly into the air, the serpent began to roll. I threw my left leg out in the direction of the turn. When my foot touched the ground, as quickly as I’d mounted the nadreddet, I was off and running away from the rolling body. But I didn’t run far because at any second the head might stabilize and the tongue locate me. Spinning around, I chopped again at the mass of scales and skin. Just as the fangs and nose drew back preparing to strike, I cut its spine. The nadreddet convulsed. While it shuddered and thrashed, my blade finished the job of severing the giant snake’s body.
It took a minute of searching through a river of yellow-brown blood to locate my trusty bowie knife. From the base of the cliff, I heard one last howl before the noise died in a whimper. The last member of the pack had fallen and I was sure the wolves were being swallowed by the snakes. The urge to go look at them feeding sent me two steps toward the cliff but the halves of the nadreddet began to twitch and squirm. Dodging the raw meaty ends and the head and the tail, I trotted a safe distance away.
The huge segments of moving snake prevented me from reaching the edge of the cliff as they thrashed. Then the parts of the dead snake seemed to sense a direction and began wiggling their way toward the woods. With the way clear, I took a step toward the cliff and my pack.
I was torn between wanting to follow and not let the sections vanish in the woods like the other parts of snakes I’d killed. Or, satisfying my curiosity about the snakes at the base of the cliff. But a grizzly bear, most likely drawn by the smell of blood and the sounds of violence, came from the forest.
With the powerful creature only a few yards from me, both of my previous choices vanished.
Bears were powerful carnivores and a healthy male had few equals. Among the less than equal was my pistol and it’s 45 caliber rounds. I’d survived an encounter with a huge poisonous snake and now was about to be killed by a common bear. It didn’t seem fair. In frustration, I picked up a handful of snake blood and mud and slung it at the grizzly. It splashed on his fur and he caught a whiff of the nadreddet. I guess he didn’t like snakes so he turned and raced back into the forest. By then the nadreddet’s parts were gone and I was exhausted.
A quick peek over the cliff showed the trio of serpents lounging in the sun with bulging abdomens. It was time to collect my pack, find higher ground, and set up camp for the night. Something about snakes was nagging at me as I headed to a higher elevation but I couldn’t put my finger on it.
***
The site was as good as I could find. On one end of the finger of land, a steep slope dropped into the treetops. On either side, the ground rose but remained sheer until it blended with the land on the other end. Two hardy pines grew at the tip of the finger. I cleared the brush and small trees from around the pines and outward for about ten feet to prevent animals and snakes, especially the deer swallowers, from venturing into the campsite.
I wasn’t comfortable with the limited visibility of a tent. To keep a wider field of vision, I created a lean-to shelter between the pines. With my base camp set, I headed out to find firewood. Not just enough for a cookfire but, enough for a bonfire that would stretch across the finger of land and burn hot all night long. The memories of the serpents circling the wolves haunted me as I collected arm load after arm load of dried sticks and branches. Again, the thought concerning snakes crept in but when I attempted to catch it, the idea eluded me.
With the wide fire burning, I stripped off the blood-soaked garments and took a clean shirt and a pair of trousers from a plastic bag. After stuffing the soiled clothes in the bag, I heated a can of beef stew and settled down to dinner. Then, the nagging thought dealing with snakes broke through as I lifted a spoon of stew to my lips. Food.
Snakes only ate once a week and I encountered four serpent circles. If three nadreddets, as I witnessed, were hunting in each circle that added up to twelve massive serpents. It meant a lot of work for me to hunt down a dozen big snakes. I didn’t want to ponder the number of colossal nadreddets lurking in the mountains but they were out there as well.
***
I broke camp in the soft light before the sun rose over the higher peaks. As I shoveled dirt over my trench fire, in addition to the eating habits of snakes another thought occurred to me. Most snakes ranged five or so miles from their resting place. Oversized nadreddets had the ability to travel much farther. But, as I’ve seen by the devastation of the wildlife in specific patches of the forest and the location of the serpent circles, these seemed to be staying close to the instinctual patterns of their normal sized cousins.
Based on that assumption, my hunting strategies changed. No longer would I seek individual snakes to kill. Now I would search for their lairs. As the bulky nadreddets couldn’t hide under small rocks or shallow depressions, I needed to travel to where large boulders for basking in the sun were plentiful and crevices hid entrances to caverns. The landscape with those features existed at a higher elevation. I shouldered my pack, left the finger of land behind, and started my long hike to the rock fall.
During a geological event in ancient times, a section of the mountain collapsed. Rocky and windswept, there was little soil for trees, brush, or grass. What was visible from the valley floor was a gray scar on the otherwise forested mountain. As I hiked higher, I could make out the largest boulders and a portion of the shale slide between the trees.
I wanted to reach the rocks in the morning with plenty of daylight for my search. To do that, I needed to camp in the woods before my final ascent. But, if the snake holes were among the rocks, the nearest woods could have a number of lurking nadreddets. I needed a secure location for the night.
It was a hard climb and a struggle to pull up my pack, but I finally located sturdy branches. After getting settled in, I tied myself to the trunk to keep from falling out of the tree while I slept.
Hours after nightfall, I shifted trying to find a comfortable position on the four branches. Night sounds surrounded me and they gave me comfort. Between the cicadas, crickets, owl screeches, and other chattering and scurrying animals, I relaxed. The nocturnal creatures would act as an early warning system if a predator approached the area around my tree.
And I wasn’t wrong. When the night went silent, I awoke. The absence of noise can be as jolting as a change in pitch or tone. It’s a human behavior shared by domesticated dogs and cats. Below me, dry leaves rustled and low branches brushed on a moving body. It was a big serpent based on the length of time the scratching lasted as it passed through my area. Then two more came by. All three were heading up the mountain in the direction of rock fall. Having the location of the lairs confirmed didn’t help me sleep even after the night sounds returned. I wasn’t sure what I’d find up there or if I would survive to act on the information. I spent the rest of the night sitting on a branch visualizing being swallowed by a giant nadreddet.
***
As soon as the sky lightened the mountain, I lowered my pack and climbed down. Once on firm soil, I opened my pack and lifted out the bag with the still damp clothing. It was disgusting but I changed back into the blood-soaked pants and shirt. When the cloth touched my skin, I wanted to rip the shirt off and throw it to the ground. But I wanted the smell of snake more. I swallowed my revulsion and buttoned the shirt all the way to my neck. Then I took my canteen and soaked a section of the trousers. After clawing off a layer of blood, I smeared the flaky paste on my face, neck, and into my hair. Camouflaged by the stink of snake, I raised the backpack up into the tree and tied off the rope. Common sense should have stopped me, but I was a nadreddet slayer and this was my mission.
***
“Who gave you the job of snake slayer?” Tim Constance questioned as he turned off the recorder. “It’s not an occupation as far as I know. And why would you put yourself in such a perilous situation? If what you’re telling me is true.”
“Who gave Joan of Arc permission to lead a French army? Who gave Don Quixote permission to go on his quests? Or Galahad the okay to pursue the Holy Grail,” Solomon shot back. “It had to be done, and I was there.”
“Don Quixote and Galahad are fictional characters. One was depicted as crazy and the other a gallant man on a mission doomed to failure. And the Maid of Orléans was burned at the stake for heresy,” Tim informed the mountain man. “So, I’m confused. Was it divine guidance that counseled you? Do you hear voices or is this a tall tale?”
“They all had a calling and acted on it. Just as I had a calling,” Solomon replied while ignoring the challenge to the legitimacy of his account. “I didn’t need a voice to tell me that giant snakes were evil. Or to prompt me to walk among them.”
The last line sounded theological and the researcher suspected he was interviewing a zealot of some sort. He was in the mountains, high up Breakneck Holler, alone with a man possibly insane and, certainly, delusional. Looking at the hard muscles and intense eyes of the mountain man, Tim suspected he needed to allow Solomon Cooper to finish the story if he was going to drive off the mountain alive. With a renewed interest in finishing the interview as soon as possible, Tim turned on the recorder.
“You were just about to climb to the rock fall,” Tim urged. “What did you find?”
“Nadreddets. Just as I suspected,” Solomon informed the researcher. “But also, something marvelous and eminently more dangerous than the snakes.”
Chapter 7 – Caverns and Lairs
It took both of my hands on the big boulders to hoist my body through the gap. On the other side, I gazed at an alien landscape. Gray rocks and massive stones rippled up an incline until the st
art of the broken shale rock. The chipped and shattered sedimentary rocks appeared unstable as if they would cascade down and cover the boulders at the slightest tremor. But the rock fall had been here for eons and I didn’t think anything short of well-placed explosive charges would bring it down.
The landscape did have one advantage for me. All of the boulders were on this raised plateau and I didn’t have to make any steep ascents to search the area. I scaled and dropped down the far sides of four huge rocks before I saw the first nadreddets. They were stretched across boulders catching the warmth of the rising sun. All four had distended bellies and seemed asleep as they digested their latest kill.
I approached slowly depending on the smell of nadreddet blood to hide my mammal scent. They must have sensed the snake and not me as I navigated the rocks and passed by unmolested. In the confines of the uneven rocks and the ankle twisting gaps between them, I would have been easy prey. As I crawled up a boulder onto a higher level, I glanced back. Each of the serpents was over fifteen feet in length and rounder than my chest. I wouldn’t have been a full meal for any of them. Dessert maybe but definitely not enough meat to satisfy any of the massive reptiles.
The early morning temperature was low in the thin mountain air. The presence of the big snakes this early made me wonder if their size insulated them better than a reptile of normal size. If that was the case, it explained the enormous nadreddet I encountered at the icy evergreen tree. With that on my mind, I climbed a few more boulders and stopped at the base of the shale slide. From that perch, I watched for emerging snakes as the sun rose and warmed the rocks.
A half hour later, the sun was higher in the sky and warm rays penetrated the thin atmosphere. I felt the heat on my face. Apparently so did the rest of the reptiles as they slithered out from under rocks and through crevices. I ignored singles or even pairs of snakes. What I wanted was directions to a cavern with room for dozens of larger nadreddets. Then a ten-footer followed by another snake came from between a break in the rocks. I watched and soon a steady flow of nadreddets came through the breach.
Serpent Circles Page 4
