by E C Hunter
With all the preparations made Archie took up his Firesteel and knife. Pressing the end of the Firesteel down onto the bed of green sticks Archie used the back of his knife blade to slowly push down the Firesteel. A satisfying shower of orange sparks settled on the fine birch bark, smoked briefly and then caught. Bright flames soon danced and little swirls of smoke were sent skyward. Gently Archie laid the second bundle of fine birch twigs over the flaming tinder, one end resting on the bundle already in place. Soon the flames were growing taller, Archie quickly but carefully used the larger twigs to form a cone around the fire and then the larger still to reinforce that, then sat back on his heels with the satisfaction of a job well done. He knew that you couldn’t really say a fire was going until you had a dense bed of orange glowing coals but he was confident that this fire was not going anywhere.
Next job was to place the iron tripod with it’s dangling chain over the fire as a means for hanging pots. That done, Archie filled the kettle from the spring and hooked it to the chain dangling below the tripod. Flames quickly licked at the base of the old blackened kettle setting it ticking and singing. The camp rule of always boiling water meant in practice that whenever anyone was in camp, the kettle went on. That way any excess water not used there and then could be allowed to cool for filling water bottles.
A sudden crashing in the trees brought Archie to his feet. Swivelling to locate the source of the noise Archie felt his heart jump as he saw a movement deep in the dappled shadows of the woodland. Without conscious thought Archie started to move behind a tree, some deep instinct telling him to hide, to assess the situation, unseen, from a place of safety.
“Archie’ a voice called from the trees ‘hope you’ve got the kettle on”. Magnus’s voice carried up the slope ahead of him. A wave of relief swept over Archie. Feeling slightly foolish Archie gave himself a minor talking to, ‘come on boy toughen up’…he recalled George’s oh-so familiar exhortation.
“Grand fire Arch” Magnus showed his approval of his son’s fire lighting skills as he and Lee staggered into camp burdened under huge loads of firewood. Archie smiled wanly and didn’t let his father see his previous concern. Lee had pulled the cover from his razor sharp Swedish axe and proceeded to make a couple of quick notches in the underside of a large log and then position these over two smaller logs laid on the ground. The result was a serviceable if rustic bench, placed just right to keep mostly out of the fire smoke but catching enough just to keep the bugs away. Magnus, hefting his own axe took to splitting down some of the larger firewood and directed Archie to make a brew.
Chores done and settled on the bench with steaming mugs of strong black tea the trio began to plan for the following day.
‘Reckon if we turn in early’ suggested Lee ‘it’ll let the area quieten down, let the all the critters get about their business, let our scent fade out a little maybe eh?’.
“Sound, then I want us all in place along the ridge overlooking the stream bed where our gendarme had his sighting. And I want us there before first light gentlemen” added Magnus. Archie groaned inwardly at the mention of first light, knowing that his sleeping bag would have a serious grip on him by that time. There was always something about sleeping outdoors that made Archie sleep like the proverbial log.
“Archie, you’ll take the spotting scope and your own bins. Lee and I will just take bins. I’ll have the camera and go in the centre of the line, you two I want about 100 metres to either side of me. I don’t have to tell you about concealment and moving quietly do I? And don’t forget the ‘s’s…shape, shadow, silhouette, sound etc.” Magnus added comments about the wind direction, observation techniques and signals. They had brought with them Motorola personal radio handsets to keep in touch, together with a selection of solar and wind-up chargers. ‘I think we’ll call a halt at about oh-nine-hundred and get back here for some breakfast. Talking of food, lets rustle something up for dinner’. Not before time thought Archie, it had been a long time since breakfast and he was beginning to feel the effects of a long hard day.
Lee seemed to have appointed himself as camp chef and set to making a huge skillet full of cubes of bacon, potato and onions, with a handful of herbs thrown in. It tasted of heaven, Archie couldn’t remember tasting anything quite so good. He wolfed down two portions, both drenched in ketchup and followed it up with an apple. Barely had he taken his last mouthful when his eyelids began to droop and everything began to take on a slightly unreal quality.
“To your pit Archie’ said his father. ‘Oh, and wilderness or no, wash and clean teeth, hygiene is even more important out here than at home. Goodnight son”.
“G’night dad, night Lee” Archie trailed off to his basha, performed the obligatory ablutions as he knew his dad would be watching and crawled into his bag. The soft murmur of his father and Lee from the campfire lulled him to sleep in minutes.
The next thing Archie heard was not his father waking him but a terrible unearthly screaming.
Chapter 4
It didn’t stop. The screaming went on and on. An interminable, terrifying, stupefying noise, part banshee wail, part wolf howl, part chimp shriek. Archie lay there, unable to move or talk, fear paralysing him. He wanted to call out to his father, wanted to be anywhere but here. A soft scuffling roused him. Magnus slid under the basha.
“We came to find them but it looks like they’ve found us Archie” whispered his dad. “We’ll just sit this out, as far as we know calling like this isn’t aggression, merely contact calls. Can you hear, the calls are coming from two different directions, Archie, there’s more than one here!” Archie couldn’t believe how un-fazed his father was by this, he was obviously excited but not terrified by the screams like he was. In the muted red light of his LED head torch Archie could see a glint in his father’s eye. A hint of the battle lust he must have felt as a Royal Marine leading his section into action in the far off deserts of Iraq.
The sound continued, on and on. Punctuated only by the snapping of heavy branches and the crash of large stones as they were hurled into the creek bed far below them. Reassured by his father Archie began to relax a little. To actually listen to the sounds. The harder he listened, the more he could make out distinct sounds, words perhaps, few and coarse but repeated…and repeatable with a little practice. Archie’s fear began to fall away, replaced by a curiosity the like of which he had never felt before. In a moment he understood his father’s obsession, his fascination and his passion. The screaming began to fade into the distance, eventually petering out to little more than a vague suggestion of a disturbance in the air.
“Best try and get back to sleep now buster” Magnus told Archie, see you in the morning. He ran his hand briefly through Archie’s hair and softly padded back to his own sleeping bag. Again Archie went to sleep almost immediately. His tiredness and the relief of the noise stopping served to act as a strong incentive to sleep. This time the next thing he knew was his father gently rousing him.
“What a night hey son?”
“You could say that” answered Archie blearily.
“Lee’s got some bacon frying in his magic skillet and there’s coffee in the pot, hop to it, we’ve got some re-thinking to do”.
Some minutes later Archie trudged up to the fire where Lee, in the same position as when Archie had gone to bed, was shifting bacon and eggs around in the giant skillet. After a plateful of Lee’s magic formula Archie felt revived enough to involve himself in the planning of the day to come.
“Right guys” began Magnus “we’ll need the plaster of Paris and the moulding kit, the camera, video camera and we’ll take a handful of trail-cams too. You’ll need your personal kit too – water bottle etc and I’ll take the DNA sampling kit. Oh, and Lee, don’t forget the Blaser, we can’t be too careful”.
“No problem boss-man” answered Lee, rising to his feet with a groan and a creaking of knees. He shuffled off towards his gigantic basha to collect his kit.
“Rifle dad? I thought we were her
e to research Sasquatch, not top him”
“Precautions Arch, merely precautions”. Magnus didn’t elaborate.
“Come on Arch, get your gear together” Magnus dropped a curt order and stomped away to his basha. Archie trailed off to his own basha to get his gear together.
Ten minutes later the trio were ready. Lee shouldered his pack and the rifle and led them off in the direction of last night’s noisy demonstration. They half walked, half slithered down the steep, leaf-litter covered slope towards the creek bed. A few meters from the creek Magnus called a halt and knelt down, motioning Archie and Lee to do likewise.
“Let’s just observe for a few moments guys. I want us just to take in the scene, look for signs without trampling all over everything”. Magnus outlined the plan. “Then I want us to move across the area in a tight line, very slowly and anything you see mark with one of these”. Magnus handed out strips of dayglo orange fabric tape. ‘We’ll probably have to make a few passes. We’ll start from here and move across the valley as far as that outcrop on the far side. Ten metres apart please, every time you need to stop just say stop and we’ll halt the line. Ready guys? OK, spread out and off we go”.
The compact line of searchers moved slowly down the slope, pausing occasionally to fasten an orange marker on a broken branch or to lay one on a scuff mark or possible footprint. In just over an hour they had covered the approximate area of the previous night’s disturbances and laid out 28 tags. Magnus charged Archie with the task of plotting the markers on a map while he and Lee photographed and made notes.
Another hour’s work saw the first task completed. Over drinks from Lee’s capacious cooler bag the team assessed the morning’s work. There was a definite area of disturbance, they all agreed on that, but as to what had caused it there was some doubt.
“No positive prints then?” asked Magnus, already knowing the answer.
“Nada, zip, zilch” Lee answered laconically. “No prints, no hair, no crap, just a whole load of broken branches and messed up dirt”.
“Dad.”
“Archie.”
“There were some prints.” Magnus spun to face his son.
“Where?”
“Leading off towards the road, the direction we came in from.”
“I didn’t see them.”
“That’s because you weren’t looking for them dad”
“Of course I was”
“No dad, you were looking for Sasquatch prints, these were hiking boots, at least two pairs. I saw where they crossed the creek and went up the bank on the other side.’
‘Could have been anyone Arch, hikers, surveyors, poachers. Anyone.”
“I don’t think so dad, the prints were fairly fresh but the stones at the edge of the water had dried so it must have been a few hours before that they crossed the creek, there couldn’t have been any sun down there that early. The outline in the mud was still sharp, no erosion. It must have been during the early hours of this morning.”
“Just after the sounds ended you reckon Archie?” asked his father
“Going on what I’ve seen, I’d say so, yes.” Archie tried to make himself sound more convinced than he actually felt.
“OK, let’s go tracking! Pack up guys, lets pick up the trail.” If Magnus was disappointed, it certainly didn’t show. He simply hefted his pack and moved off towards the prints in the creek bed. “Well come on then” he called over his shoulder. Archie and Lee shared a look of mystification, hefted their packs and followed Magnus.
When they caught him, Magnus was scanning carefully around looking for the line that the two sets of prints had taken. They stood back and watched as he moved around allowing the sun to reveal tiny shadows, showing the placement of a boot here, a blade of grass pressed into the dust there. Satisfied, Magnus set off again, quartering the ground like a well trained pointer. The trail was showing a definite bias towards the location where they had parked the vehicles just the day before. Magnus picked up the pace and the group were soon within site of the track leading to the parking area. Sweat was cutting grimy rivers through Lee’s ruby face as he flopped down beside Magnus and Archie.
“See anything cap’n?” asked Lee as Magnus scanned the area below with his binoculars.
“Nope, if there was anyone there they’re long gone, let’s head on down”.
The group picked their way down the slope until they emerged from the bush into the strong sunlight of the parking area. Archie looked towards where the vehicles were parked. On the ground around the Dodge sparkled a million gems, glinting rainbow hues in the sun’s rays.
“Dad, dad” yelled Archie as he hurtled towards the truck, “Dad, someone’s put the windows out”.
Chapter 5
It wasn’t just the windows, all the lights had been broken and every panel in the pick up had been dented and scratched. What was worse however was the fact that every tire on the car had been slashed and that the words GO HOME had been scrawled across the bonnet in marker pen.
“Don’t touch anything Arch” called his father as he ran after his son towards the stricken truck.
“I’m not that stupid, I have watched CSI you know called Archie over his shoulder. He stopped at the edge of the circle of glass and stared at the formerly beautiful vehicle. Magnus stopped behind him and put a hand on his shoulder.
“Hmm and hmm again” Magnus made a quizzical noise. “How very odd. Kind of reinforces that our presence is not required. Best call the hire company and see if they want us to get the police involved.” Magnus drew out his cell phone and the hire company number from his wallet.
While Magnus was busy talking Archie began to saunter around the car park, staring at the ground, subconsciously taking in the small details, the minute signs and traces left by the vandals. A boot print (Wolverine) here, a cigarette end (Marlboro) there. Over toward the edge of the car park a damp patch where someone had taken a pee, complete with another pair of boot prints in the dust, Rocky’s this time. Leading from the car park towards the road were a pair of wheel marks where a large vehicle had spun it’s tyres in a wheel churning getaway. Archie unslung his pack, reached in and pulled out the Nikon D5100 camera from it’s foam housing. He flicked the knob to auto and began to shoot all the traces he had noticed as well as the defaced Dodge itself. Within a few minutes he had snapped over 50 shots from all kinds of angles. Archie flipped open the Flash card compartment, took out the card, fastened it into the pocket of his bush shirt and replaced it with another from the pack. Magnus was finishing his rather protracted conversation with the car hire company as Archie walked up.
He perched on a huge old tree stump and pulled out his water bottle. Magnus flipped his phone closed and sank down on to the stump next to his son.
“Looks like we’ve got to call in the Mounties my boy”.
Archie nodded and looked up as Lee sank down heavily onto the stump next to Archie. Passing both palms over his face Lee sighed loud and long.
“Listen guys, this isn’t normal. Nobody hereabouts usually gives a damn about stuff like this.”
“Hmmm, always struck me as a pretty laid back sort of place, as you say Lee, odd. Most definitely odd.” Magnus flipped open his phone again and dialled the local number for the RCMP that Lee had given him. After a lengthy explanation and description of their location he closed the phone and told the others to expect a wait.
In fact it was just 10 minutes before a dusty and rather battered police Chevy Blazer rolled up. Out jumped a pair of Mounties almost as scruffy as their vehicle. Both wore scuffed boots and one wore breeches that looked like they belonged to his elder, bigger, brother.
“Which of you is Magnus Hunter?” big breeches asked, hand on his holster and already looking at Magnus. Magnus stood and offered a hand. It was ignored. “Into the car please Hunter.”
“Beg your pardon?”
“Get in Hunter” Big breeches drew his revolver and motioned towards the Chevy.
“May I ask why? It’s our
vehicle that’s been damaged you know”. Magnus tried to sound reasonable.
“Just get in” The other police man took a step towards Magnus and raised his gun threateningly.
“OK, OK, I’m doing it” Magnus looked over to where Archie sat, stunned. He tried to convey something. What? Archie could not fathom his fathers’ expression, he cast an odd looking glance at Lee and then back to Archie. Magnus climbed in and was followed by big breeches. The other Mountie climbed into the drivers seat and the Chevy shot away in a cloud of dust and a shower of stones.
Lee and Archie sat in silence for a few moments, too stunned to react. It had all happened so quickly. Eventually Lee stood up shakily.
“What the hell just happened?” he scratched his backside thoughtfully. “I’d better go after them, Archie, you stay here and wait for the wrecker to come.” Archie noticed that Lee couldn’t meet his eyes. Lee jumped into his truck, started the engine and gunned it out of the car park.
For the second time in two minutes Archie sat stunned. His Dad arrested, Lee gone, the car destroyed, the log on his hammock, the Sasquatch calls, the shock of seeing a hand gun waved at his father. What on earth was happening? What was that look on his father’s face about and why was Lee looking so shifty? And what was with those police men? The more he thought about it, the less he liked it – the scruffy uniforms, the battered Chevy, the ancient looking revolver. It just didn’t ring true. He shuddered at the thought of that gun. To Archie, like most to British people, seeing a hand gun on a policeman always came as something of a shock.
Somebody had to find out what was going on here. Archie mentally looked around for help. Stood up and said aloud “so that’ll be me then”. The promptly sat down again as he realised that he had absolutely no idea what to do. It occurred to him that the first thing to do was actually to wait for the garage to come and get the Dodge.
He didn’t have long to wait, a CAA wrecker arrived within twenty minutes and carted off the vehicle, leaving Archie standing alone and bewildered in the car park. There seemed only one option left to him. Wander back to the camp, pack it up, stash all the gear out of sight somewhere and then try and hitch a lift into the nearest town to find out what had happened to his father.
