Chapter 7
EIGHT MILES below the snow line, five brave men hiked up through the steep terrain of Crater Mountain. With them was a pack train of two ponies, laden with supplies. The men, all organized hunters from Seton Portage, were well known as the Copper Creek Coachmen. In response to Trevor’s message of Morse Code, they organized a search party.
Winding their way up through bush and tall evergreens in single file, they were led by a man named, William Short. William was known throughout the town as the most experienced hunter. People travelled across the sea to pay large sums of money to hire William. As their guide, he led them on a hunt.
The old mercenary was in his late forties with a lean height, healthy tanned colored skin and grey hair of experience running along the sides of his head. Half of his persuasive personality was in his perfect bright smile of sturdy white teeth. The other half; his unmatched skill at the hunt.
The sun was five hours over the horizon. The sky had been clear all morning, but dark thunder-heads approached from the East. So far, their journey up the mountain held no clues of the captive man for whom they were searching. In fact, the entire excursion was hardly interesting at all.
One of the men was very tired and spoke about his weary state. “Hey, Will, can we stop a moment? We’ve been on this trek since before the sun came up. I need water.”
“Norm, if we keep stopping for every little complaint you have, we’ll never get to the person who sent that message last night. I know if it were me in trouble on this mountain, I’d like to think people were responding to my call for help. Now, take a drink, but we’re not stopping!”
Someone passed Norm a canteen and he drank from it. After a few good strong gulps, he wiped his mouth with his sleeve and looked at William with discouragement, “We’re not training for the war, here...” He muttered under his breath.
William heard this and added, “A man’s life is at stake! We must help him! The new comer, Trevor, hasn’t been heard of for two months and many of the town’s folk have been going to his home to check on him starting with Marry Lue Thompson and her friend Anna Bell.”
“Do we even know where to look for this missing person?” asked Elliot, squinting his eyes. Elliot was one of the men who told his Sasquatch tale at the Seaton Hotel.
This question was answered by, James Nelson, who was a burly mill worker. “I saw the light coming from this northern side of the mountain and it was well above the snow line.”
“He may be frozen to death.” Norm responded with attitude.
“Look, Norm, if you’re purposely trying to slow the rest of us down, you can head back right now!” William snapped.
“Will, why don’t you just read the message that was sent from the mountain. I for one didn’t understand it at all the first time I heard it.”
William, the leader, stopped in his tracks as they were hiking over a bluff. He looked out at the miniature valley ahead of them. They would have to go through it because the trees were far too thick on either side. It would be an easy climb up along the dried creek bed. It could lead them to the snow line.
William fingered a breast pocket until he dug out a crumpled piece of paper. Unfolding it, he began to read. “S.O.S. STOP! Please help me. STOP! I am being held captive. STOP! My name is Trevor. STOP! I am being kept in a cave not far from here. STOP! Bring chloraphorm. End message.”
Suddenly, a horrendous roar shook through the valley. It quieted down and everyone gazed up at the mountain with earnest anticipation of what they would find. These men were hunters, for the most part. They lived for the thrill of the hunt. At the sound of the mighty roar, the men agreed on one thought that was never spoken, ‘This could be the greatest trophy kill of their careers.’ One man in particular, Spence, was a conservation officer. He carried chloraphorm and he had to split the shipment with the town’s doctor. It was the most effective way to prep a patient for surgery or to drop a wild animal who posed a threat to the citizens of Seaton portage.
They were all just about to head off again when a great muffled rumble whispered from the mountain. With a rush of air, the sound began to grow. They looked up as William shouted, “Duck for cover, avalanche!”
Everyone tried to get behind the rocks of the ridge. The avalanche lost its velocity before it reached the snow line, but a cloud of snow blew down over the men. At the sound of dislodged rock and trees, the men lifted their heads from the rocky ridge. They expected to see some evidence of the slide spilling into the valley. What they found was quite the contrary.
With a perplexed astonishment, they witnessed a thin little creature, with an unusually large head, skitter down the creek bed toward them. Stopping in its tracks, the little creature turned around suspiciously. It lifted a rock that must have been three times its own weight. When it threw the rock up at the mountain with unnatural velocity, the hunters watched in awe. The rock finally exploded hitting just beyond the unsettled snow cloud.
The roar bellowed again. It was much closer now and sounded like it was wounded.
No one could move. They could see the roar didn’t come from the little grey creature. No, the roar came from an area of the forest where a flock of sparrows took to the air. The bellowing sound was vengeful and angry. The eyes of the men almost protruded all the way out of their heads when they saw the husky and hairy form of the fourteen foot tall Gurchukk bend trees aside as he stepped out into plain sight.
Like a scared squirrel, the little grey creature fled over logs and stones. The two creatures established themselves behind barriers of rock where they began to throw stones and logs at one another like children in a snowball fight. Rocks collided and exploded and one rock nearly hit the grey alien in the head. Realizing the danger, it climbed a small eroding hillside to the base of a huge old dead cedar tree.
Crossing the stones of the creek bed with long wide strides, Gurchukk ran with inhuman speed. Reaching down, it picked up some of the smooth river stones. Throwing the rocks at the little grey creature, the projectiles exploded on impact against the twisted old dead tree. The little grey creature was almost knocked free as he continued to climb.
The conservation officer, Spence, leveled his rifle at the large hairy creature, but William lowered the muzzle and whispered quietly.
“Not yet.”
When the Sasquatch reached the steep slope to the old tree, he leapt up to it and grabbed hold of the thick trunk. Climbing the tree in merciless pursuit of the grey creature, no one was sure if the old tree would buckle under such weight.
The alien climbed to the top of the tree and there it lifted its head skyward and screamed its urgent telepathic buzzing sound.
At the piercing sound, the hunters began to feel faint and queasy.
The hairy Sasquatch in the tree also appeared to be affected. With his arms and legs going limp, the Sasquatch slumped over a thick brittle branch.
At that instant, James pointed out a bright star gleaming from the midst of the storm clouds. The cloud became aggravated by the presence of the star. All the men’s eyes suddenly looked up as the star came down to them in a streak of light.
Any man made aircraft would’ve crashed after reaching such phenomenal speed, but this object stopped instantly, over the old tree. The space craft slowly and ominously, circled the tree for a moment while making a low humming sound. The vibration behind the sound kept rhythm as its pitch rose and fell. The craft was round and shiny like it was made of pure silver. Energy sparked off the hull like electrical waves. The lights may have been intentional, but they were currents of energy in conflict.
A heat ray blasted from the craft at the Sasquatch. Hair singed and smoked as the Sasquatch fell out of the tree. A fire broke out and began to engulf the tree’s trunk.
A feeble cry came from the grey alien stranded in the tree-top. He opened his little mouth and stretched out his long thin hand to the space craft. It pleaded for its salvation.
Finally, a portal spiraled open on the underbelly of
the craft. Light reached out. Slowly the craft neared the tree until it was close enough to accept their lost companion.
The moment the alien was safely aboard, the portal spiraled shut. Then a large rock flew up and smashed into the silvery hull leaving a sizable dent. The craft wavered in mid-flight. Losing control the craft fell twenty meters and crashed in to the sharp rocks.
Incredibly, the sparkling object bounced back up and hung in the air as though it was weightless. Power began to resonate from the silver hull.
The Sasquatch rolled behind the cover of rocks.
Rings of energy and light bursted forth from the ship. Rippling ringlets glided across the surface of the alien craft and shot at Gurchukk. Heat-waves of pure energy cooked the ridge vaporizing many stones to ash. The mountain, and the small valley, shook from the powerful blast. Before the dust settled, the craft shot away into the sky.
The Copper Creek Coachmen watched after the alien craft as it shrunk into the distance. Beyond the bellowing storm clouds, it disappeared out of sight.
Gurchukk arose from behind the berm of rocks. His body was smoking and he was nursing a sore shoulder.
The Coachmen noticed Gurchukk when he made a muffled groan. As one of the men cocked his rifle, the Sasquatch snapped his head around. Locating them by sight first, he caught their scent second. Suddenly, Gurchukk sprinted back up the steep creek bed with such speed the men could only marvel at him.
Gunfire broke out and Gurchukk’s sore shoulder didn’t seem to hurt any longer. Galloping up the steep mountain, the Sasquatch leaped up cliffs and bounded over huge boulders and crevasses with ease.
Gurchukk traversed obstacles that would considerably slow the men. They stopped firing when they realized the creature was out of range. All they could do was watch the Sasquatch disappear into the mountain’s detail, far off into the distance.
Norman was still in a buzz of adrenalin. “Look there men! Do you see where he’s going?! That creature’s heading up the mountain...”
“…to where Trevor is, no doubt.” William finished his sentence.
“You think that is what’s holding the man?” Norman asked as he swallowed nervously.
“It very well could be.” William answered confidently, “It would explain why he requested the chloraphorm.”
“Now hold on, are you men still wanting to go after it? Shouldn’t we leave this kind of thing to professionals?” Norman asked with a shaky stutter in his tone.
William turned to look into the eyes of the other men. “Of course we will go! We are not just hunters, we are the professionals! We will capture the beast, save the man and return to the town as heroes.”
“Yeh, hey!” The men shouted in agreement to William. William looked down on Norman with a sly self-righteousness.
Norman considered the competence of these men. Knowing the combined skill of this specific group, he was encouraged. A smile, filled with thoughts of fortune and glory, shone from his face.
“Yeh, hey!” He shouted, as he craved the opportunity to challenge the Sasquatch again.