Day 12-2

Back at the camp, Cut had barely set a foot inside the door when Buck showed the same erratic reaction as before. As soon as the dog moved, Chief was off his bunk, knife in hand, so fast, I didn't even have time to blink.

"Alright, settle down. It's just us." Cut grinned at his cousin. "You okay, man?" he asked since Jimmy's color resembled that of a faded brown bed sheet. He received a not very convincing nod in reply.

Buck was still snarling and crouched into the farthest corner of the hut.

"Shut up, Buck!" I snapped. "Cut, you better go change, before he completely freaks."

"Yeah," he laughed. "Good thing we brought enough clothes, eh?"

"Here, Chief." I returned the bear-claws. "Thought you might want these back."

"They work?" he asked.

"I'm still here!" I answered in his own words.

He grinned wryly, sitting back down on his cot, then motioned toward Cut. "Where did you find him?"

"Well, actually he found me."

"Good thing I did, too," Cut smirked, pulling up a fresh pair of camo-pants. "Ain't no tellin' what kinda trouble you might've ended up in. Runnin' around out there, head up your ass, like a lost pup."

"Hell, Cut, I wasn't the one who got lost, remember?"

"I wasn't either, man. Just…misplaced…of some sort," he mused.

Jimmy appeared extremely thoughtful, shifting his eyes between us to follow the conversation.

"What?...Damn, Chief, don't start again. You can talk just fine if you want to," I snapped when he started signing.

"Wait a minute! What, Jimmy?" Cut waved me off and Chief repeated—at least I think he did— what he had said. "Got a point," Cut mumbled. "Look, Chase, he just thought of something strange..."

"Wouldn't doubt it," I sneered.

"No, seriously. Listen for a minute..."

"Okay?" I leaned back in the chair and crossed my arms.

"Now listen," Cut repeated, "both me and Jimmy got caught by that thing, right?"

"Yeah?" I drawled bored, not comprehending where he was going with this.

"Think about it, man." He started to get impatient. "How come it didn't hurt us?"

I sat up, suddenly a little interested.

"It carried us off," Cut continued quickly, "buried us in a bunch of leaves, then left."

"So, what are you saying?"

"Not sure, Chase," he admitted. "But it almost seems like it was just trying to get us out of the way for a while, or somethin'."

"Out of the way for what?"

Chief signed again, and I gave him a frustrated look.

"Jimmy says, if he wanted to kill us, why didn't he do that first?" Cut relayed. "Why would you just knock out your prey, and have to worry about it escaping?"

"Hell, I don't know, Cut. Maybe he thinks a bit different than we do." Great! Now we're starting to relate to that thing in 'person-terms'.

"Just weird," Cut scratched his head. "Like when he got me, I wasn't completely out, you know. I could feel bein' picked up, and he did it real careful, almost like he was afraid to hurt me. Sounds stupid, I know," he added since I chuckled. "But, Chase, Jimmy says the same thing."

"Maybe you two just got knocked in the head a little too hard."

"That's what I'm tryin' to get through to you, dip-shit," Cut hollered. "Wasn't really that hard. Not even enough to completely knock us out. Hell, you hit me harder'n that over a swig of Beam, Chase."

I couldn't help but laugh, remembering the fight we had over the last mouthful in a bottle of Whiskey. Beating the daylights out of each other, until some smartass came up and drank it, right in front of our faces. He wasn't too happy about it later, though.

Anyway! "Okay, Cut!" I put my mind back on the subject. "So what you two are saying is, this thing didn't intend to add you to his lunchbox? Just more or less removed you from the scene for a while?"

"Somethin' like that, Chase."

"Doesn't make any sense."

"I know that, but think about it, damn it. A guy, seven-foot-somethin', over five- hundred pounds? Shit, if he meant to knock you dead, it wouldn't take much more than a flick of his finger," Cut mumbled, opening a can of beer.

"Guess you got a point there," I consented. "So then what's the deal with it?"

Chief snapped his fingers to regain Cut's attention and signed.

I just watched, shaking my head. Apparently he only talked when he absolutely had to. Don't know why, but I figure that's his business anyway.

"Hey, Chase," Cut's eyebrow went up, "remember I told you, that Bigfoot thing is sort of a legend with the Natives?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, Jimmy says there are some real old stories and pictures where Bigfoot helps the Indians. You know, kinda protects 'em or so."

"Helps them with what?" I got up since Cut didn't bother to ask whether Jimmy or I would care for another beer. "Here, Chief." I held out one can, and because he was looking at Buck who had come over to get his belly rubbed, I tapped the can on the table. Not sure how, but it works every time.

"Thanks!" He grinned, popping the tab.

"Next time I'll make you get your own, if you don't quit with the sign-language."

"Shut up about it, Chase!" Cut grumbled between his teeth.

"Why? He can talk. Fooled me long enough as it is."

"Leave it alone, damn it!" Cut snapped back. "He'll talk if he wants to, and most of the time he don't. Just don't push it."

"Okay, okay, whatever!" Now I was getting defensive. "What about them stories you were talking about?"

"Well," he drew a long breath, "there's this one...a young Indian hunter got trapped, his leg caught under a falling tree. He laid there and couldn't get out, too far from his village for anybody to find 'im. He was close to dying, when this creature came. Huge, smelly, covered with hair, claws like a grizzly, fangs like a wolf..."

"Oh, get on with it!" I rolled my eyes.

"Anyways, the hunter thought for sure it would just finish 'im off right there and then, and he started to sing his death-song. But instead, the Bigfoot picked up that fallen tree like a toothpick and threw it off to the side. That Indian's leg was broken, so he couldn't get away. But then the Bigfoot picked him up, real gentle like, and carried 'im to this beautiful valley, no one had ever seen before. The Bigfoot took care of the Indian, brought him food, water, splinted his leg and so on. When he was healthy again he returned to his own people."

"Wonderful!" I sneered. "So what does that little fairytale have to do with us?"

"Well," he scratched his head, "maybe our Bigfoot here is kind of a Mister Nice Guy, like the one in the legend."

"I see! And I guess that means you believe this story?" I scorned.

"Jimmy does," Cut answered solemnly. "Look, Chase," he cut me off before I could open my mouth, "let's not get into a discussion about religious or whatever beliefs, okay? We got other things to deal with." He glanced around the camp. "I never did get nothin' to eat yet. What've we got left? Anything good, or just them damn MREs?"

Somehow I actually appreciated his obvious attempt to avert another argument. It wouldn't lead anywhere anyway, I knew. He and I had been there many times, having quite different beliefs and opinions, mine a little more 'down-to-earth'. But I guess sometimes things just aren't as simple as black and white—at least not in this case.

#####

"Cardboard shit!" Cut pitched the so-called cookie, he had pulled out of the MRE, across the room.

Buck got up and, as inconspicuous as he possibly could, strolled over. One sniff, a little nibble, and he started sneezing, wiping his nose with the front paw. We burst into laughter. The dog merely cast us an offended look and curled back up beside Jimmy's cot. Evidently he knew Chief still had that bag of Beef Jerky over there. He had been slipping him bites of it all afternoon. Gonna spoil him rotten!

I couldn't blame Buck though, he was only trying to make the best out of the situation I had drug him into. Wonder sometimes how much he really understands. He is smart. Smarter than some people I met, that's for sure. But he is also his own person, ornery, stubborn and hard-headed as a bull. Yeah, I am still talking about the dog, though that description could fit any of us.

Cut was still cussing and rummaging for some more food, and Chief sneaked Buck another hunk of Jerky.

"Well," Cut mumbled from between a bite of fruit-cake he had found, "what's your plan?"

"Don't really have one," I answered, assuming he was speaking to me. "Too late to go back out today anyways. Thought we try to come up with something smart tonight, and head back to the ridge in the morning. What you think?"

Jimmy looked somewhat lost since Cut had his back to him and my head was turned, so he couldn't make out what either one of us was saying.

"Sorry, Chief," I apologized as I noticed, then added, "we's just talking about what we gonna do next."

"Hey, Chase," Cut interjected, "I just thought of somethin'."

"What's that?"

"Well, we been up there five or six times by now, and never got any further than that ridge. Somethin' always happened and we had to go back."

"So, what do you suggest?" I asked.

"Thought maybe we oughta start at the other end this time. You know, walk backwards from the draw. Well, I don't mean actually backwards...ah, hell, you know what I mean."

"Suuure!" I laughed. "Boy, how many beers did you have?"

"Oh, kiss my ass!" he grumbled. "I'm tired, and I still ain't found nothin' that resembles real food. That fruit-cake tastes like somethin' out of a dumpster. We stay up here any longer, I'll go hunt me a deer or somethin'."

"You know, that's not a half-bad idea, Cut," I grinned.

"Are you nuts?" His eyes widened. "It's out of season. We get caught, we'd be in all kinda shit. Besides, my luck, I'd come across your ghost-buck and have to track him again."

"Here we go!" I rolled my eyes. "You never gonna let me live that down, eh?"

"Nope. Was just too good," he snickered. "Hey, Jimmy, did I ever tell you 'bout that?"

Chief grinned and signed a short reply.

" 'Bout a thousand times, he says. Too bad, it's a good story," Cut shrugged.

"And the way you tell it, that buck gets bigger every time," I muttered. "Now can we get back to what we were discussing?"

"Done gave you my opinion. Whatever that's worth to ya."

"Chief, you got an idea?" I asked, then realized his attention was on Buck again. I broke the tab off my beer-can and flipped it toward him.

His hand snapped up and he caught the tab in mid-air.

Damn, I thought, impress me, why don't you!

He hesitated for a moment when I repeated my question, then signed.

"He thinks maybe we should tackle the area from a whole different angle," Cut translated.

"Like what?"

"Well, we been over that three mile area with a fine-tooth comb by now. Figure we found everything there is to be found," he kept talking, simultaneously to Chief's signing. "Maybe we could come in from the other side, you know, further out, 'bout half a mile or so. Saw that little waterfall, feedin' the creek, didn't you?"

I nodded without interrupting.

"We could start from there, that is if we get past that ridge this time. Perhaps we oughta stay together, instead of endin' up havin' to search for one of us again. Well, what you think?"

"Sounds good to me. Hell, anything sounds good to me. But getting back on that hunting subject for a minute." I rubbed my forehead, starting to get a headache again. "Chief, you know that trap you stepped in was gone when I got back there?"

Jimmy stared at me in total disbelieve.

"There was nothing there. Nothing! No trap, no blood, not even our own tracks. Look, I know it sounds stupid, but somebody cleaned house up there."

"Yeah, like your ol' lady," Cut threw in. "I always was afraid just to put a butt in your ashtray. Was so clean you could eat out of it."

"You never seemed to mind that when you stayed over though."

"Hell no, Chase! That woman of yours is somethin' else. Purdy as a picture, but with a redneck attitude that'll put all of us to shame. She cooks like a chef, keeps house like a maid, takes care of you and the kids, and on top of all that she's the best damn Harley mechanic I've ever seen in my life."

"Yeah," I laughed, "if it wasn't for her, I'd rolled that bike into the creek a long time ago. She put it together from scratch and keeps it runnin' for me. Ah, I miss that thing!"

"What? Her or the bike?" Cut grinned roguishly.

"Yes!" I answered.

"She sure put up with a lot of shit from both of us," he mused, a little rueful.

"Alright, Cut, you're makin' me homesick. Knock it off, before I pack up and leave you both sittin' here with the damn dog."

"Hell, how you think we feel?" he mumbled. "Jimmy just got married four months ago, and his girl's pregnant."

"Oh, man, I didn't know that. Why did you have him come out here then, Cut?"

He shrugged with a guilty expression on his face, and Chief added some signs.

"He says, that's okay. She understands, we gotta do this manly kinda thing. Besides, at least he don't gotta run to the store now at three in the morning, to get her cookies or pickles or some other kinda goofy shit."

"Know what you mean there," I laughed. "I got so sick of seein' Micky eat pretzels with chocolate sauce for a month."

"That ain't nothin'!" Cut looked disgusted. "Conny had this thing for spaghetti with strawberries when she was pregnant with Kyle. What a combination." He cringed at the thought. "But I'm still hungry, Chase. You's talking about huntin' somethin', before we got off track. Think we could get away with it?"

"Why not? Just gotta be careful. I haven't seen anyone but us up here...not counting our mystery creature of course. Don't think there's much to worry about, as far as DNR or so goes. Besides, just in case," I grinned slyly, "I brought my bow."

"Should've known," Cut grinned back. "You never come unprepared, do you?"

"Nope!"