The Forest Monster; or, Lamora, the Maid of the Canon. Edward Sylvester Ellis

The Forest Monster; or, Lamora, the Maid of the Canon - Edward Sylvester Ellis


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onpossible.”

      “Dunno,” persisted Black Tom, “from what we’ve hearn of it, they say it don’t mind our guns.”

      “Ef it can stand a shot from my gun, then thar ain’t no use in talking,” was the response of the old hunter.

      “Don’t you mind what Stumpy Sam told us about it?” asked Stebbins, some minutes afterward.

      “I didn’t hear what he told you; you see’d him first.”

      “It was two years ago, come the middle of trappin’ season, when Sam said he and three other fellers see’d him. It warn’t a great ways from hyar, and they war riding up one side of a ridge, when jist as they reached the top they met the thing, coming up t’other side. They had a good sight of it, and the whole four fired right into it.”

      “Wal?”

      “It give a sort of a snuff, turned tail toward ’em, and walked away, as though they hadn’t done nothin’ more nor sneeze at it.”

      “That’s Sam’s story,” replied Tom. “I allers b’l’eved he told a thunderin’ lie about it, ’cause why, thar ain’t no animile that could stand four rifle-bullets right into his face.”

      “That’s what I say,” assented Stebbins. “Sam and the rest of them fellers must have been so scared, (though it wouldn’t do to tell ’em so,) that they didn’t hit the critter at all, and that’s what makes me kinder want to draw bead on it, and see what it’ll do afterward.”

      “But I say, Steb., now s’pose you do get a crack at it, and it don’t make no difference at all; what then?”

      “Why,” fairly whispered the old hunter, in his shuddering earnestness, “then I’ll know it’s a spook!”

      That was a dreaded word, for it touched the tender point in a brave but ignorant man’s character. Strong in the face of real, tangible danger, they were like children before a peril which they could not comprehend.

      Both of these hunters had sent their ounce of lead crashing through the heart-strings of the buffalo and grizzly bear, a hundred yards distant, and they were warranted in believing that no living creature could face such “music” and live.

      What, then, were they to think of any thing that could bid defiance to their weapons? Was it not natural that they should look upon it as something outside of the world in which they lived—something to be dreaded, as the possessor in itself of a power above and beyond theirs?

      They had heard strange stories of a wonderful beast seen by different hunters and trappers, who had visited this portion of the Black Hills. Common report had placed it somewhat further to the north-west, so that when the year before they had caught a glimpse of it, in sight of the very grove where they were then encamped, they had double cause for amazement.

      They had placed these marvelous stories and rumors which reached their ears in the same category, that listeners doubtless often placed theirs, and believed they originated from an encounter with some mis-shapen, malformed brute, that was no more to be feared than the ordinary creatures to be looked for in these wilds, at any time and by any one.

      But there came a time when they were most completely undeceived. The preceding spring, when they were returning to the States, and they were heavily laden with furs and peltries, they made their halt for the night in the same grove. They were sitting around the fire, somewhat late at night, as Teddy was sound asleep, when they heard a peculiar barking sound, and both stole hastily out to the edge of the timber to see what it meant.

      As they did so, they saw IT going leisurely toward the ridge, its head being away, and its side partly toward them. Both the hunters identified it on the instant. It was smaller in size than the grizzly bear, but was unlike any creature that either had ever seen. Its appearance, so far as they could judge, allied very well with what they had heard.

      It had an immense head, short, thick legs, that moved somewhat clumsily over the ground, and a long, bushy tail, like a squirrel, that was curled over its back, as is frequently seen with that diminutive creature. But the most striking feature about it was its color.

      It was a clear night with a faint moon, so that the hunters could not see clearly, but they distinguished the leopard-like spots and zebra-like stripes, that dotted and encircled every part of its head and legs, and on the impulse of the moment, Black Tom raised his rifle and fired at it. He was pretty certain his bullet struck, but if it actually did, the creature paid not the least heed, but moved away at a leisurely gait, and speedily vanished.

      Such is an account of the first encounter with the fearful nondescript, which, once seen, could never be forgotten. Since then they had seen nothing of it, although they heard many marvelous stories of it when they reached the settlements on the border.

      A full hour had passed since the report of Teddy’s gun, and old Stebbins and Black Tom were conversing in their hushed way, when they were startled by the sound of rapidly-approaching footsteps, and they had scarcely time to look up, when Teddy dashed up to them, panting and almost breathless.

      “What’s the matter?” demanded his friends, grasping their rifles and starting to their feet.

      “The divil! the divil! I’ve seen him! I shook hands wid him, and he’s comin’!”

      “Where? where?”

      “There! there!” replied the appalled Irishman, pointing and glancing toward the prairie. “He’s comin’; he’ll be here in a minit! Blessed Virgin, protect me!”

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