Chapter 6 – A Dire Warning

Jefferson's horsed galloped at full speed across the grounds of Monticello. He pulled the charging animal to a stop, dismounted, and strode into the mansion house so quickly the house servants were unable to open the door for him. His rapid entrance startled a house maid, "Is Mr. Madison here?" he demanded.

"This way, sir," she replied and led him to the guest dining room.

Jemmy was tiredly slouched in a chair, an untouched plate of food was pushed aside on the table. He appeared pale and shaken, but otherwise in good health. Jemmy raised a trembling hand to sip some wine.

"Thank, God," Jefferson said and took a chair beside Jemmy, "are you all right?"

Jemmy stared blankly ahead. At Jefferson's question, his friend's wide eyes turned and he slowly nodded. "The horse returned here of its own accord. Your servants brought me inside," he said softly.

Jefferson nodded and assumed a lighter tone, "You gave me a quite a shock racing away with one of my finest horses," he said with a teasing grin.

Jemmy looked away and did not immediately reply. He finally asked, "Are you all right. Thomas?"

"Never better," Jefferson casually replied, "my only concern was not losing you in the forest. As you said earlier, Mrs. Madison would be quite cross with me."

Jemmy smiled weakly, then raised a trembling hand and took a long sip of wine, "Thomas, that was not a bird in the forest."

Jefferson knew this was true. That beast was unlike anything Jefferson had seen or heard in the Virginia forests. "I think we startled a bear," he replied.

"Thomas," Jemmy said slowly, "do bears make those terrible sounds?"

Jefferson was unhappy with the direction of this conversation and wished to change the subject, "We never actually saw the animal."

A deep silence fell between them, measured only by the persistent ticking of the clock on the fireplace mantel. Tonight's experience was far beyond Madison's usual life and Jefferson wondered if his friend could come to grips with it. Jemmy continued to slowly sip his wine.

"Did you recover those men who went into the forest?" Jemmy asked.

Jefferson was certain those men were already dead. After a pause, he shook his head, "The horses bolted too quickly. But, don't concern yourself. Those men are perfectly at home in the wild and are expert marksmen. If they've not returned by morning, we will begin a search."

Jemmy sipped his wine while the clock continued to tick.

After a few minutes there was a commotion outside and the sound of men shouting. A servant entered and said, "Mr. Brute has arrived with a wagon, sir. He is asking for you."

Jefferson rose quickly. "I must go," he said to Jemmy, "when you are ready, the servants will show you to a room. Don't fret, the this will all look much different in the morning light."

Later that night, after the recovered treasure was secured, Jefferson waited alone in a rundown wooden shanty in the distant backwoods of the plantation grounds. A single lantern lit the weathered wooden plank walls. A chilly breeze blew through the gaps in the wall boards and Jefferson pulled his cloak tighter to keep off the chill. He did not want to be here, but circumstances now required it.

The shanty door was quickly jerked open from the outside and someone was roughly shoved inside. An old man collapsed face first on the floor, followed through the door by Mr. Brute.

The old man lay on the floor, his long hair hung down hiding his face. "Stand him up," Jefferson said to Brute, then added, "put him in this chair."

Brute handled the frail figure like a ragdoll and roughly shoved the man down on a crude wooden chair. His wrists and ankles were bound with rope and he slumped forward toward the floor.

Jefferson bent over to speak, "Chief Lamatok, we have a few things to discuss."

The old man remained slumped forward facing the floor.

"I am speaking to you," Jefferson said, then glanced at Brute, standing behind the chair.

Brute grabbed the man's shoulders and pulled him upright to face Jefferson. His long, grey hair hung across his weathered and wrinkled face. But his eyes were bright and hard as steel. Jefferson had no doubt that Lamatok would kill him, if given the chance.

Jefferson smiled, "That's better." He pulled another chair from the corner and sat down facing the old man, "Old friend, coming home from the burial mound tonight I ran into some…thing in the forest. An animal or beast of some sort. I lost three men out there and barely escaped myself."

Lamatok's face remained stern, but the corners of his mouth betrayed a slight smile.

Jefferson nodded and said, "I take it you know this beast."

Lamatok did not respond. Jefferson waited patiently. The old man was stubborn and would gladly die before revealing anything to him. Jefferson nodded to Brute who released his grip on the old man. Lamatok remained upright like a proud and defiant statue.

Jefferson leaned close, "What was that thing?"

The old native stared into Jefferson's eyes, "Kolotockee," he whispered.

Jefferson turned his ear closer, "What is that…a name?"

"A legend," Lamatok replied in a hoarse whisper.

Jefferson laughed bitterly, "More of your folklore my friend, that's is how you became involved in this unfortunate mess."

"You lied," the Lamatok said bitterly.

"It was a mistranslation," Jefferson said smugly, "I was truly recording the history of your peoples. But, when you told me of the ancient burial mound I had to investigate a bit further, and look what I found." Jefferson pulled several gold coins from his vest pocket and held them out for Lamatok to see.

The old man spit into Jefferson's hand.

Jefferson smiled bitterly and wiped his hand on the dirty, tattered rags that Lamatok wore, "Old friend, that was not your burial mound. The ancient Watachee people buried their dead here long before your tribe ruled this land. I have taken nothing from you and will return your freedom when you help me to finish what we have started."

Lamatok smiled bitterly, "More lies," he said, "I will tell you the legend because I will soon die, and so will you."

Jefferson's eyes widened in mock surprise and he nodded slightly, "I see," he said, "then you had better tell me."

Lamatok's eyes narrowed and he spoke, "Kolotockee is the forest demon of the first Watachee people. You entered their burial ground and Kolotockee was summoned. Did you see him?"

Jefferson shook his head, "No, the forest was too thick. But I am picturing something big and ugly with large teeth and claws."

Lamatock nodded and smiled, "You speak the truth Jefferson. All who see the demon die."

Jefferson exchanged a glance with Mr. Brute, "Well, we are getting somewhere now, Chief. How do I kill it?"

"You can't kill it," Lamatok replied, "you violated the ancient burial ground and now you will die. Kolotockee will have his vengeance."

Jefferson frowned, "Well, we can't have that," he said to himself. Then to the old man he said, "I think that you may the liar here tonight Chief."

Lamatok's face remained hard, "Go into the forest Jefferson and you will learn the truth."

Jefferson studied Lamatok for several seconds and quickly stood, "Mr. Brute, I think we have taken up enough of the Chief's time this evening." He paused and looked down at the defiant old native and decided what to do, "Put him back in the hole." Jefferson said and left the shack.