Crow Mountain by Colby Van Wagoner

Chapter One – Excursion

         It was late in the afternoon; the air had a slight chill to it, indicating the fall season of 1879 was approaching. The leaves had begun to change colors to brilliant oranges and reds and were glowing brightly as the sun shone through them. Nathaniel Bartlebee and Jeremiah Buckley were riding into town atop their two favorite Mustangs. Their family’s ranches were located four miles south of the town of Bluff, Utah. Bluff was an isolated town comprised of Mormon and frontier settlers. Not many travelers passed through the town, as the main trails leading to California were far to the North and South of Bluff, leaving it a quiet and peaceful place to live. California had become the destination of many people seeking their fortunes in the great silver and gold rush, ignited by the discovery of gold in 1848, at Sutter’s Mill, in Coloma, California.
         As Nathaniel and Jeremiah rode, the two were discussing plans for an upcoming week long hunting excursion, at the Buckley family lodge, located about twenty miles west of Bluff. Their fathers and grandfathers before them hunted the area for decades; it had always been a reliable place for the family to hunt. Nathaniel thought to himself, lodge was a comfortable place to set up for a hunt, it beat lying out under the stars during the chilly autumn nights. Jeremiah and Nathaniel usually accompanied their fathers on hunting trips; however, their fathers felt it was time for the two to begin hunting on their own.
         Approaching Bluff, the two were swapping insults about two of the girls in town and how the other was always too afraid to talk to the women they expressed interest in. Jeremiah was pressing Nathaniel about Sarah Jane, “Ah, now you know you’ve only talked to Sarah Jane maybe once or twice. Are you asking her to the fall dance?” Nathaniel knew that Jeremiah was also scared to approach Mary, so he countered with, “Oh really and what about Mary? Are you going to ask her, or will I be going to the dance alone?” The two laughed about their hesitance and shyness when it came to women and continued riding into town.
         They approached a large, dead tree, filled with hundreds of blackbirds, its thick branches lacked the colorful leaves of the nearby, surrounding trees. The birds chirped and bustled among the lifeless tree limbs. As Nathaniel and Jeremiah’s horses were nearing the tree, the birds swarmed from the tree, into the sky. “Wow, look at them fly!” Nathaniel pointed out to Jeremiah. “Hey!” Jeremiah yelled, waving his hat from side to side, encouraging the birds to continue their flight. “There are hundreds of them!” Jeremiah yelled.
         Jeremiah Buckley was an experienced hunter, having tracked many deer in his life. His father had taught him and his father’s father before him. Hunting was a Buckley family tradition and an inexpensive means of providing for food the family. Nathaniel Bartlebee’s family, on the other hand, was primarily farmers. They raised livestock a few miles from the nearby town of Bluff. Jeremiah and Nathaniel’s family ranches were located near each other; the two had been friends since early childhood. Although the Bartlebee’s experience was primarily farming, the Buckley’s always extended an invitation to the Bartlebee’s to join them on their hunting trips.
         Cody Buckley was Jeremiah’s father and George Bartlebee was Nathaniel’s father. Their fathers both fought in the Mexican-American war of 1847 and moved their families to the frontier near Bluff, after the war to start a new life. Their fathers were both experienced in many things. Building, trading, hunting, farming, Jeremiah and Nathaniel’s fathers had passed onto them their skills and experience. This provided Nathaniel the hunting experience that Jeremiah had learned and Jeremiah the farming experience Nathaniel’s family had taught him.
         The two families have always hunted towards the Western Territory of the town towards the Utah, Arizona border. Jeremiah and Nathaniel were planning a week long hunting trip, but this hunt was different. Their plans changed while overhearing a tip in the feed store ran by old man Stevens. Stevens was giving some hunting advice to a few men visiting the area. The two strangers were asking Stevens about the game trails in the territory, south of the town and rumors the land was rarely hunted, making the game prime for the taking.
         Old man Stevens quickly discouraged the two and warned them of the holy burial grounds in the surrounding area of the mountain, it was Navajo land and prohibited. The land was off limits and only hunted by the Navajo people. There was also a canyon located within the mountain called Canyon del Muerto, or Canyon of the Dead, where the Spanish had massacred Navajo woman and children in a cave, the cave was called massacre cave. Old man Stevens noticed his warnings were going unheeded. Hearing this, the two visitors scoffed at old man Steven’s remarks, one saying, “Well, this is America and we’re Americans. We’ll hunt any land we damn well please!” Old man Stevens replied, “Suit yourself” in an aloof manner, “Folks that trespass out in that territory are rarely ever seen or heard from again.” The two out-of-towners picked up their supplies and walked out the door, angered at Steven’s lack of encouragement.
         After overhearing this, Jeremiah and Nathaniel discussed the decreasing size of the bucks in recent years and large kills were growing scarce due to the amount of people hunting the land. Jeremiah stated “Wouldn’t it be nice if we could just have a decent season this year, I mean, we could just go out to the Southwestern Territory and have a look.” Nathaniel had always looked up to Jeremiah for his free spirited attitude and agreed, only nodding his head and smiling.
         The two spent the next week organizing their supplies and trying to map out the region closest to the Navajo borderland. Since they were both unfamiliar with the land, they spotted a local Navajo tracker in town and inquired about the area. The tracker was quick to provide the information, for only a few dollars in return. The tracker provided the two hunters with a detailed map, revealing the route to reach the Aghaa’la peak, near the entrance into the Navajo territory and directions to reach the Navajo hunting grounds on the North side of Crow Mountain.
         The two hunters were instructed to follow the edge of the dying sands dune, where the thick grass met the sands. They would then have to look for two markings at the edge of the Juniper forest indicating the entrance to Raven’s Pass. From the markings, they would see Red rock towers and a large stone arch called Raven’s Arch that would lead them to the North side of the Mountain. Raven’s pass was the trail that led under the Raven’s Arch and would take them directly into Navajo hunting grounds. The tracker failed to mention Canyon del Muerto, within Crow Mountain, or Massacre Cave.
         Nathaniel and Jeremiah did not press the tracker about the massacre or the existence of the cave located in the canyon, figuring old man Stevens was most likely fabricating a ghost story to frighten the two strangers back at the store. Right before handing Jeremiah and Nathaniel the map drawing, the tracker stopped half way through handing them the map and said, “You only hunt in daylight.” Jeremiah replied, “Why is that old man?” The tracker answered, “There is more on that mountain to fear than just the Navajo.” The tracker said no more and let go of the map.
         Jeremiah and Nathaniel watched as the tracker turned and mounted his horse and rode off down the dirt road of the town. Jeremiah and Nathaniel, having all the information they felt was needed, returned to their homes. They explained to their families they were headed out the following morning to the Western Territory for a week’s time of hunting at the Buckley lodge, not disclosing the action plan to hunt the restricted Navajo hunting grounds.
         The following morning, the two frontier hunters set out on their horses towards the South, in the direction of the Monument Valley Desert. After riding for half the day, the hunters reached what looked to be the dying dunes desert. They stayed near to the grassy brush, next to the dunes of the desert, just as the tracker suggested. They rode for another few hours, eating the food they prepared earlier atop their two Mustangs. They were approaching a rare section of the woods just north of the Monument Valley.
         In the Bluff town hotel and restaurant, Nathaniel and Jeremiah would sometimes hear the older, local hunters of Bluff telling ominous stories of strange, animal like creatures, creatures that could only be spotted from the corner of a man’s eye and never fully identified. Shadows that quickly disappeared once a man tried to focus their eyes upon them. The two always thought those older hunters telling the stories, were only trying to scare the townsfolk from hunting in the Navajo Territories.
         The two hunters, Jeremiah and Nathaniel arrived at the edge of the forest, where a game trail entered the Juniper forest. Before them, stretching into the sky were the hills of Crow Mountain. The Sun’s rays shone across the tops of the trees and reflected off the red rock towers. In the distance, the two hunters could see the large shape of the stone arch the trackers mentioned would lead them to the left side of the Mountain. Two strange markings were on either side of the beginning of the trail. Large tree logs buried in the ground, with tree limbs at the tops of the logs woven into the shapes of crows, the sun reflecting eerie shadows on the ground just behind the two markers.
         Both hunters dismounted their horses, took their canteens from under their shoulders and drank in sync. Jeremiah knelt down on his left knee. After each hunter had their fill of the lukewarm water, Jeremiah looked up to Nathaniel and said, “you’re the better spotter, get out your binoculars and I’ll shoot.” Without responding, Nathaniel reached into his pack and pulled out a pair of tarnished binoculars. They were a birthday gift his Grandpa had given him on his 13th birthday. Nathaniel studied the landscape through his binoculars to get an idea of the markers surrounding the mountain to get a better idea of the terrain. He felt more at ease knowing that he had a better idea of the land when returning to the horses after they were finished hunting.
         The two secured their horses and gathered what hunting equipment was required. A rifle, small kerosene lantern, buck knife and rope were the only necessities Jeremiah required. Nathaniel carried the same equipment, but in case of emergency, always felt the need to bring his trusty pouch of flint and steel in case he needed to start a fire. Jeremiah was focused on the ground around the game trail and quickly focused on fresh tracks. The tracks were two side-by-side hoofs, the tracks of a large buck. Looking back up to the two mysterious markers, Nathaniel noticed on the two large posts what seemed to be a warning; he pointed it out to Jeremiah. Jeremiah, only believing they were just trying to scare outsiders said, “That is only there to spook people and let all the Navajo keep the big game for themselves.” Jeremiah scoffed at Nathaniel, as to suggest he was as superstitious as the town folk telling the ghost stories about creatures in the woods! Nathaniel reminded Jeremiah what the Navajo tracker had mentioned. They should only hunt in the daylight.
         The sun was just reaching the top of the Western horizon. Jeremiah turned to estimate the amount of daylight they had left before the sun would be down. He said, “We still got plenty of time! I would say about two hours. Giving us plenty of time to get in, bag a buck and get back to the horses to set up camp for the night.” Nathaniel was doubtful, but what was he going to do, Second-guess Jeremiah, who was dead set on taking advantage of as much hunting as the two could do in a week?
         They then entered into the Juniper forest and made their way towards Raven’s arch. From a distance the mountain looked majestic and the surrounding environment was calm and peaceful, aside from a slight breeze blowing through the trees. There were sagebrush, yucca plants and cactus beneath the Juniper trees, beetles, scurrying along the rocks, Small birds flying from bush to bush and every so often a small swift lizard would cross the path. Every small creature seemed to be in a hurry to get where it was going. Jeremiah continued to look for the tracks of the buck he has spotted earlier. They passed under the large orange archway the tracker referred to as Raven’s arch and hiked for another few miles.
         Jeremiah came across the tracks of a buck that appeared to be the same ones as before, only fresher. They continued to track the deer. Just as they rounded a bend in the trail Nathaniel stopped Jeremiah by reaching out and tugging his shoulder. The two hunters stopped dead in their tracks. About seventy-five yards on the opposite side of the hill was a large buck. Somehow, Nathaniel was always the first to spot the animals when they were out hunting. Jeremiah wondered how he was always doing this. He thought Nathaniel was always strange around animals. At least from his experiences with Nathaniel on the Bartlebee’s farm. Nathaniel was always able to calm the livestock, almost get them to follow him, as they herded the animals back and forth to the grazing fields and watering holes.
         As they approached the buck it was extremely alert, not of the two hunters, but it seemed like it knew something was in the area. Jeremiah knew they were downwind and the deer would have no idea of their presence, as long as they were quiet and moved slowly towards it. They were about fifty yards from the buck. They stopped to hold a position as Nathaniel viewed the deer through his binoculars. Nathaniel motioned the two on and they slowly crept a few more yards. The sun was well below the horizon and at this point, sunlight barely lit the ravine of the mountain. Just then, there was a rustle about 40 yards behind the two hunters in some nearby brush, but the two focused on the buck. The buck, paying no attention to the sound was standing frozen, steady as stone, almost like a statue.
The two hunters paid no attention to the sounds and continued their pursuit. Communicating only through hand signals and by reading the lips of the other, the two hunters set up for the shot, slowly crouching behind a fallen tree and a slight dug out behind it. The perfect spot to rest Jeremiah’s rifle on and remain unseen by the large buck.
         In the distance to the rear of the two hunters a slight scratching and sliding noise became louder. The two hunters were still unaware of the disturbance, unaware that something is also tracking them. The hunters remained downwind from the buck about forty-five yards. Jeremiah could easily hit a buck at one hundred yards. As Nathaniel spotted through his binoculars, Jeremiah set up for the shot and Nathaniel noticed through his binoculars the deer seemed to be in the same position as he saw it in before, stone frozen.
         Nathaniel felt something was wrong about the whole situation, but kept to himself. The two hunters still unaware of something moving around them in the distance continue to set up the shot. Nathaniel alerted Jeremiah there was a clean shot by imitating a trigger pull with his right hand. Jeremiah raised his rifle resting it on the fallen Juniper tree, lining up the deer in his sights. He slowly moved his trigger finger on the trigger and continued lining up the sites to the buck’s shoulders, looking at the perfect kill shot.
         Just as Jeremiah moved his finger to the trigger, a rustle is heard behind the hunters. This time about twenty-five yards. Smaller rocks came sliding down an incline, dust rising from where the rocks were falling down the hill. Jeremiah paused, remaining in his position, slightly hunched behind the fallen tree. They turned their heads in the direction of the disturbance. Cautious and still both eager for Jeremiah to take the shot, they both turned back towards the buck. Amazingly, they both saw that the deer had not moved and was still in the same spot as before. Jeremiah whispered to Nathaniel, “What a dumb animal.”
         As Nathaniel returned to spot through his binoculars, Jeremiah returned to his position on the tree, raising the sites back towards the neck of the buck. The sites sat focused exactly on the buck’s lower shoulder, Jeremiah raised his finger to the trigger, inhaled a full breath, Nathaniel also inhaled a full breath, pressing the binoculars against his eyes whispered; “Easy now.” Both slowly exhaling a half breath, pausing, Jeremiah pulled the trigger. Jeremiah’s rifle muzzle flashed and at the very moment the shot was fired, both hunters spot a blurred figure zoom just in front of the buck and the tree they were crouched behind. It seemed to be in both places at the same time, tackling the deer and flashing right by the tree they were behind. They froze, looking at each other in disbelief, but silently disagreeing what it was they thought they witnessed. Convinced the buck had been struck down by the shot, the hunters slowly rose to their feet. Jeremiah shouldered his rifled and the two slowly began to make their way towards the area the buck was hit.
         As they approached the clearing, they noticed the ground surrounding the buck was severely disturbed; there were patches of grass and brush that seemed to be torn from the ground. At the site the deer was standing there were traces of blood on the sand and small rock, indicating the deer had been hit. The blood trailed off through a clearing into a thicker part of the Juniper forest. Nathaniel and Jeremiah heard a faint rustling in the distance, about thirty yards from where they stood and became spooked. Looking at each other with hesitation, Jeremiah then burst out, “Come on, let’s get this over with, it’s getting dark.” Jeremiah turned and headed into the trees. Nathaniel paused to think, trying to decide whether or not to follow Jeremiah, scoffed and turned his head to the trees. He walked into the forest about fifteen yards behind Jeremiah, pushing aside the thick branches of the trees and muttered, “Bad idea.”
         As he continued into the woods towards the direction Jeremiah took, he noticed to his right, up an incline, a tree. The branches of the tree had been broken and torn from it. He turned and headed for the tree. Reaching the tree, he spotted one of the larger branches lying on the ground beside it. There was blood smeared on the bark of the tree and large fresh claw marks within the smears of blood, resembling bear claws. His eyes widened, as he gripped his binoculars hanging from his neck. Nathaniel shuddered and turned immediately back to the path Jeremiah was taking.
         Nathaniel realized the two had become separated and lost in the forest. Darkness had set in Crow’s Mountain, Jeremiah continued tracking the suspected blood trail of the buck and pressed on, unaware that he had become separated from Nathaniel. The blood trail continued to puddle in thickness and ended in a larger pool, just before the entrance to the cave.
         Jeremiah stopped, reached into his pack and took out a small lantern. Lighting it with a match, he raised it to what appeared to be the opening of a large cave entrance. It appeared the buck had entered the cave, perhaps, seeking shelter. Jeremiah raised his lantern to get a better look into the cave. There were smears of fresh blood on the rock walls of the entrance leading into the cave. Jeremiah moved slowly into the cave with his lantern held high in front of him, thinking back about what the Navajo tracker had warned them of, “You only hunt in daylight, there is more on that mountain to fear than just the Navajo.” A lot of good that would do him now, he had come too far to turn back, besides, why leave behind a perfectly good kill.
         About fifteen feet into the cave, Jeremiah’s lantern flickered and died he whispers, “Shit.” Just then a noise echoed from deep within the cave. Jeremiah froze and frantically reached for another match from his pack to relight the lantern. He found a match, relit the lantern, just as he raised it above his head; a louder, lower pitch screech was heard, this time, the noise much louder and closer than before. Just as Jeremiah began to walk further into the cave, the scream comes from right in front of him and Jeremiah is tackled to the cave floor, his lantern, smashing against the rock wall of the cave, hitting the ground and burning out into the darkness. There was a loud thrashing, tearing and scratching noise as Jeremiah screams. The screams fade to silence. A dragging noise down into the cave is all that could be heard and it slowly faded into the distance within the cave.
         Nathaniel Bartlebee took out his lantern and lit it with a match he took from his pack. He picked up the trail his friend Jeremiah was following, by tracking the blood trail of the wounded buck. The trail of blood soon thickened, just as it did for Jeremiah. Nathaniel approached the thick puddle of blood, just as it stopped towards the entrance of the cave. Nathaniel raised his lantern above his head and directed the dim light towards the cave entrance. He faintly called out, “Jeremiah?” Pausing for a response, as the lanterns dim light shone dimly into the cave entrance, only illuminating the surrounding rock of the entrance.
         As Nathaniel investigated further, he spotted the smears of blood trailing into the cave itself. The lantern’s light flickered against the dark red bloodstains. With stronger intention he yelled out again, “JEREMIAH!” The sound of his voice echoed into the distance of the cave and slowly faded to silence. Seconds later, there was a low pitch screeching noise echoing back. Nathaniel froze in shock at the returning noise, thinking there was no way Jeremiah, or a buck was responsible for the noise he had heard echoing from the cave. No animal, he had ever encountered, made such a shriek such as the one he had heard.
         Panic struck Nathaniel, he couldn’t get the nerve to turn and run, nor enter the cave. He feared whatever he heard from inside the cave would chase him down and kill him if he did run, so he would have to face whatever creature was inside and enter the cave. His knees began to quiver and knock against each other. He thought about the Navajo tracker’s words, which pierced his mind like a bad headache, “You only hunt in daylight, there is more on that mountain to fear than just the Navajo.” He reached slowly to his side and unsnapped the button, holding his buck knife in its sheath. Just as he pulled the knife from its sheath as the shrieking became louder and more intense. It sounded as though it was minutes from springing from the cave entrance.
         Nathaniel gasped, dropped his lantern, turned and ran. Dashing into the forest that was now only lit by the light of the full moon, Nathaniel was holding his knife in his right hand using his left to quickly move aside the tree branches that were pelting him across the face. Nathaniel binoculars were swinging wildly from left to right, but he paid no attention as he hurled himself into the darkness. Stumbling over rocks and fallen tree branches, Nathaniel managed to pick himself up after each fall and continue running. His adrenaline was flowing and his heart was pounding in his chest. He was gasping for air as the thought of a wild animal pursuing him overwhelmed his mind. At any moment he expected to be taken down and mauled, becoming the prey of a hungry predator.
         Frantically, he continued to run as fast as he could. He thought he could feel and hear the same footsteps of something else right behind him. Too terrified to turn and face the approaching predator, he continued running till he passed the clearing of the trees, just where the deer was first shot. He made it to the fallen tree where he and Jeremiah set up to take the shot at the buck. He jumped behind the tree into the dugout, breathing as deeply as he could to catch his breath holding the buck knife in both hands ready to return an attack, should a predatory animal come from the trees into the clearing.
         He waited for what seemed to be an eternity, finally working up the nerve to slowly turn and survey the surrounding clearing. He crouched slightly below the fallen tree, peering over it to get a better look. His night vision had kicked in and the light from the Moon was helping to see the opening in the forest. There was no movement and no noise from the forest. Nathaniel thought this was all in his head.
From the time Jeremiah took the shot at the buck, thinking they saw something tackle the deer, to the claw marks on the tree, the blood on the rock of the cave entrance, the shrieking sounds emanating from the cave. Was he imagining everything? Was this Jeremiah playing a joke on him, trying to scare him with the stories the town folk had been told to keep people from hunting on Navajo land?
         He couldn’t think straight, so he tried focusing on his immediate problems, other than his missing friend Jeremiah. Just as he focused his mind, there was a rustling in the trees, just before the clearing. Nathaniel heard the rustling; he dropped behind the fallen tree, back into the dugout. His adrenaline had returned to its peak level, his heart racing in his chest. He could feel his pulse pounding in his ears. He remembers that it was only about four or five miles back to the horses. If he could make it to his horse, anything chasing him would be hard pressed to catch him at that point. Plus, he would have his rifle if he could get to the horses.
         He crouched in the dugout, calming his pulse. He took a deep breath, exhaled and took off down the trail towards the Raven’s arch, rushing into the darkness again. Nathaniel heard footsteps running behind him keeping the same pace as him. He made it about twenty yards, only to hear a rustling in the trees, about thirty feet in front of him, just up an incline, he stopped in his tracks, gripping the handle of his buck knife, ready to plunge at the first sign of movement.
         Behind him, not more than twenty feet, he heard a loud shriek. He bolted forward, tripping over a rock in the pathway, falling into a ravine just to the right of the trail. Rolling and tumbling, he lost the buck knife in the fall. The binoculars swung wildly smacking against his face, as he came to a smashing stop against the side of a large boulder, cracking his head against the side of the boulder. He fell to his back, looking up at the full moon, fading to black. The last thing he heard was the shrieking calls of the predatory animals chasing him. His last thought was, “Well, they got their prey.” Nathaniel lost consciousness.