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Sorta like "saying"... "KILROY WAS HERE"!
ROBERT MORRISS: CANNIBAL SLAYER
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A drum beat noise was heard ascending up the trail.
The Guardian Watcher extended his arm, pointing,"Look".
Both turned and saw a red mass coming towards them, and this mass was beating the building cadence.
"Sounds like the rhythm beat to ZZ Tops "La Grange", commented chisel man as he noticed that the Guardian Watcher had disappeared.
"Those are red legged tarantulas! Run!", screamed the other.
POW,POW, POW!
"Come mit me if you vant to live"
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Heh! Such were the shots from the German Math Professor, who was REALLY a German Spy... and his wife, Angela... who was REALLY his Fraulein. Frau Angela was looking for "Signs" of PV, who SHE thought was also a GERMAN SPY... based on his last name, Viemeister. US "Personel" were NOT amused, as the "red-legged tarantulas" went "UGH!" And then CROAKED. THREE shots... how MANY "red-legged tarantulas"...? Should the ppl "down below" be WORRIED...?
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The Raven cocked his head, listening to the beat of the marching red legged tarantulas, and said to the crows, " That sounds like La Grange, but I might be mistaken. Haw, Haw , Haw".
" Nay" said the nearest, " tis his hideous heart ! " " Argggh, it is , it is."
" Watch for him , him with the dead eye , that eye so carved and copied; even on their papers they trade ,their buildings and works ,even their hidings places ".
" Watch for him , him with the dead eye , that eye so carved and copied; even on their papers they trade ,their buildings and works ,even their hidings places ".
" No agate eye see I" the older bird spoke.
" These spiders have the eyes of men though. Perhaps Bloody Bill is back to be tying another knot about these prying seekers".
" Not alone" croaked the raven. And we might be knowing who' s behind that. Hronk".
He then bowed into a fall to flight towards the shadow of a figure shimmering in the fading light as it crested the ridge a hundred yards behind the redlegs. He uttered a "ccricccck" , meaning he saw as he passed above ; the figure shuddered as the small shadow of the bird slid across it' s vague form.
Sound had triggered memory and the shadow meant nothing. Or did it?
" Be thee gone!" the figure spoke , " yee chill me yet again blacky.
Foul creatures upon us all ,an wasn't a thing any could do to stop their pulling us apart , even if we was already dead".
" These spiders have the eyes of men though. Perhaps Bloody Bill is back to be tying another knot about these prying seekers".
" Not alone" croaked the raven. And we might be knowing who' s behind that. Hronk".
He then bowed into a fall to flight towards the shadow of a figure shimmering in the fading light as it crested the ridge a hundred yards behind the redlegs. He uttered a "ccricccck" , meaning he saw as he passed above ; the figure shuddered as the small shadow of the bird slid across it' s vague form.
Sound had triggered memory and the shadow meant nothing. Or did it?
" Be thee gone!" the figure spoke , " yee chill me yet again blacky.
Foul creatures upon us all ,an wasn't a thing any could do to stop their pulling us apart , even if we was already dead".
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As the red legs reached the crest of the slope the figure hissed and they whoad.
" Jest a bit" he said and looking keenly through the older and now more overgrown but still remembered meadow , he spotted the jumble of boulder against a slope.
Then he whistled an old tune all recalled. Another tune answered his and an old timer with a well worn shotgun stepped out of a shadow and stood not fifteen yards away.
Our figure saluted and the reply was the same.
The red legs watched as a poke was tossed underhand to the ol timer who deftly caught it with a downward slap.
With the gun in the crook of his arm and under the other elbow he held up seven fingers and pointed to the old trail. Then stepped back into the shadow and was again unseen in the brush.
"Over here boys" the shadowy glimmered figure beckoned striding towards the boulders.
Watching his foot placement to avoid leaving sign he approached a well mossed oblong of stone.
Satisfied it remained undisturbed he eased around the slope looking for a way in for his companions. Eying a mound of earth and figuring it's route he addressed them again.
" This chuck hole will get ya's close fella's , and if ya's get him before yur moon time shape shift iffin's ya's get shined on , he'll tide ya's over a bit.
There's seven of them seekers coming and their all yourn. Just be sure an gittum afore they'ns molest that door.
Mebbe jes a duce a ya's inside an the res shooked out h'yars about.
Nough ta shares ,done rightly."
" Jest a bit" he said and looking keenly through the older and now more overgrown but still remembered meadow , he spotted the jumble of boulder against a slope.
Then he whistled an old tune all recalled. Another tune answered his and an old timer with a well worn shotgun stepped out of a shadow and stood not fifteen yards away.
Our figure saluted and the reply was the same.
The red legs watched as a poke was tossed underhand to the ol timer who deftly caught it with a downward slap.
With the gun in the crook of his arm and under the other elbow he held up seven fingers and pointed to the old trail. Then stepped back into the shadow and was again unseen in the brush.
"Over here boys" the shadowy glimmered figure beckoned striding towards the boulders.
Watching his foot placement to avoid leaving sign he approached a well mossed oblong of stone.
Satisfied it remained undisturbed he eased around the slope looking for a way in for his companions. Eying a mound of earth and figuring it's route he addressed them again.
" This chuck hole will get ya's close fella's , and if ya's get him before yur moon time shape shift iffin's ya's get shined on , he'll tide ya's over a bit.
There's seven of them seekers coming and their all yourn. Just be sure an gittum afore they'ns molest that door.
Mebbe jes a duce a ya's inside an the res shooked out h'yars about.
Nough ta shares ,done rightly."
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One of the 7 "seekers" is Dave "I am not making this up" Barry, wearing his flip-flops...
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Dave ,disheveled in spirit closed his journal keeping the map in one hand. What had he gotten himself into with this one?
Chasing an old tale this far was more than anticipated. Far more.
"We're close now , lets pack up what we need" and then he checked his compass for the tenth time since they had stopped.
About the gap they rested in was a makeshift camp.
Hoping to avoid other people the group found the area more populated than anticipated
Besides they had underestimated their volume of consumption traveling and grain for the horses had played out much sooner than anticipated.
,Their guise of a hunting party received only feigned belief down below at the mill. What was accepted was they were not from any nearby locale , or familiar with the mountains.
Dave knew all that .. and the lack of any creatures other than a couple crows and oddly a raven who followed their route with them ,the high ground was a desert as far as any warm blooded life and only confirmed what old man had guffawed at them before their accent began.
" Ain't but haints atop them peaks" he'd said. Others from the village just watched,discreetly, avoided eye contact and acted like nothing was unusual about cityfied looking folks heading out beyond sight of civilisation. Danged treasure seekers was what they were , but their money was received by the couple previous sutlers companies with genuine acceptance. One oldtimer closed the till and watched the group leave his store thinking"Things was poor during and after the war and still are today. Danged seekers ought to realise if anything good was to be had ,it woulda by now, and by us by gum!"
Strangers with strange excuses were nothing new. Maybe some would return someday ,as all had either slipped away at night ,or simply vanished.
Dave orchestrated best he could with his motley crew. Relighting his stogie he hummmed , " smokin in the boys room".
A team of horses was finally packed with sundry goods , Biscuits ,canvas bags and tarps and wood handles poking out awkwardly from the poorly loaded team.
Lighting their lanterns in the gap the rear " guard" was called in to the ready group.
" No body following us" was his report.
" Who would? ...Creccck" said the raven.
He and the crows jumped into the air and coasted downslope before raising higher and doubling back to follow the group. Night was no barrier to their eyes.
Chasing an old tale this far was more than anticipated. Far more.
"We're close now , lets pack up what we need" and then he checked his compass for the tenth time since they had stopped.
About the gap they rested in was a makeshift camp.
Hoping to avoid other people the group found the area more populated than anticipated
Besides they had underestimated their volume of consumption traveling and grain for the horses had played out much sooner than anticipated.
,Their guise of a hunting party received only feigned belief down below at the mill. What was accepted was they were not from any nearby locale , or familiar with the mountains.
Dave knew all that .. and the lack of any creatures other than a couple crows and oddly a raven who followed their route with them ,the high ground was a desert as far as any warm blooded life and only confirmed what old man had guffawed at them before their accent began.
" Ain't but haints atop them peaks" he'd said. Others from the village just watched,discreetly, avoided eye contact and acted like nothing was unusual about cityfied looking folks heading out beyond sight of civilisation. Danged treasure seekers was what they were , but their money was received by the couple previous sutlers companies with genuine acceptance. One oldtimer closed the till and watched the group leave his store thinking"Things was poor during and after the war and still are today. Danged seekers ought to realise if anything good was to be had ,it woulda by now, and by us by gum!"
Strangers with strange excuses were nothing new. Maybe some would return someday ,as all had either slipped away at night ,or simply vanished.
Dave orchestrated best he could with his motley crew. Relighting his stogie he hummmed , " smokin in the boys room".
A team of horses was finally packed with sundry goods , Biscuits ,canvas bags and tarps and wood handles poking out awkwardly from the poorly loaded team.
Lighting their lanterns in the gap the rear " guard" was called in to the ready group.
" No body following us" was his report.
" Who would? ...Creccck" said the raven.
He and the crows jumped into the air and coasted downslope before raising higher and doubling back to follow the group. Night was no barrier to their eyes.
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The old trail was well overgrown. Their debate of horses vs a Jeep was one of their decisions that seemed to be working out.
Near the crest where the trail topped out the lead horse shied at a white rock in the trail.
" Move her forward " Dave ordered , " we're almost there".
The horses owner stopped and reached to pet the muzzle of his lead horse and had to grab her bridle and turn her in a tight circle to gain her head when she tried to swing behind him back down the trail.
" Look here Mr. , I did not trailer these horses across three states to take orders from the likes of you as to how to handle them.
Somethings got em spooked , and unless you want to find them when they break , we need to get it sorted out as to what' s wrong."
"Leave them here or catch up" said Dave and went around the horses and rock. They were close , he could feel it.
The horses facing back the way they had come were still ears back and white eyed prancing ,but held for now , one on each side of their owner.
Close by the old shotgun was reslung and it's owner appraised the horses ,and their owners canvas coat....
Near the crest where the trail topped out the lead horse shied at a white rock in the trail.
" Move her forward " Dave ordered , " we're almost there".
The horses owner stopped and reached to pet the muzzle of his lead horse and had to grab her bridle and turn her in a tight circle to gain her head when she tried to swing behind him back down the trail.
" Look here Mr. , I did not trailer these horses across three states to take orders from the likes of you as to how to handle them.
Somethings got em spooked , and unless you want to find them when they break , we need to get it sorted out as to what' s wrong."
"Leave them here or catch up" said Dave and went around the horses and rock. They were close , he could feel it.
The horses facing back the way they had come were still ears back and white eyed prancing ,but held for now , one on each side of their owner.
Close by the old shotgun was reslung and it's owner appraised the horses ,and their owners canvas coat....
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Dave was explaining to his companions the success of HAMILTON on Broadway and his plans for BEALE:The Musical when a shotgun toting man stepped from the brush.
"The avenue I'm taking you to ain't 42 Street!"
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The German complained while he resisted the Ranger who was putting plastic cuffs on his wrists.
"Just calm down Boris and tell Natasha that the US government and I don't care if you are making big trouble for moose and squirrel, ya'll can all tell it to the judge in Bedford", said the Ranger.
"We don't know these people", cried Louisiana, squirming against his restraints while observing the dancing feet of the approaching red tarantulas, knowing the avenue they were heading to wasn't 42 street.
Chisel, anxious and nervous, blurted," There were never any spider Peralta Stones"!
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MEANWHILE, Judge Updike stated it was a "FED Crime" on "Fed Land"... DO NOT send 'em here! I will order Sheriff Brown to "shoot 'em, on sight!"... heh.
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Word in Montvale was that Beale treasure hunters were once again scavenging the countryside, farmer Red Bolling loaded his Meteor sawed off double barrel shotgun that was passed down through the family with rock salt. It wouldn't be the first time a trespassing saucer eyed cipher solver received a Bolling dusting, and local lore claims Mel Fisher and Chris Widener, the Colorado DJ who convinced Fisher that he had solved the ciphers and knew the exact location, had both received a warm reception from Bolling.
Looks like today is going to be fun, thought Bolling.
Looks like today is going to be fun, thought Bolling.
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Bolling thought back upon the family stories he was told when a mere lad.
Great, great, great grandfather Bolling along side with Buford and Morriss hunting down the "cannibeales", terrible foul creatures once human, that ravaged Bedford county in the 1820's, his tomahawk still hung proudly over the fireplace next to the sawed off Meteor double barrel shot gun.
...and that shotgun...
Bolling's grandfather told of when he chased off two hunters from Roanoke who were rumored to have blown up a moonshiners camp up in the Peaks.
Bolling himself had chased off a Yankee fellow who claimed the Beale vault was guarded by the dancing feet of ere fen due red knee tarantulas.
He laughed to himself, thinking how Ward's published Beale story kept brining all types of strangers with strange ideas and theories to Bedford county, and like him, had to enforce his their own brand of no trespassing "judgements".
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And SOME of the BOLLING family changed their names to BOWLING, to avoid "nasty" connections to "war & rumors of war"... (sorta like Hatfields & McCoys...).
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Judge Updike studied the case rap sheet in from of him concerning a man who claimed the Beale treasure was hidden in bricks in Pennsylvania. The judge remembered a similar case that involved the old Bolling Kippax Plantation in present day Hopewell, Virginia. That man had included himself on an official dig looking for clues to a treasure related to Beale.
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OR! Beall, Bill, Beule, Bell... PROBALY in PHILLY; LIBERTY Bell, ya see. Town of LIBERTY... Bell, JAMES Bell. Heh... Time for MORE Bee Ale! ONLY in PHILLY!
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Delaware North Employees (ALL packing "heat") are busy decorating the Lodge & Sharp Top for X-Mas; will be looking for Santa TJB & his "Alien Goats"; Peaks of Otter beacons... will there be a "SNOW-LINE" for X-Mas...? WASSAIL! BEE ALE! POP-CORN X-MAS TREES! NO dogs allowed...
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Raucous cries bounced about the peaks as the crows returned with fresh plunder of shiny trinkets from the lodge.
Stealing from each others cache's and rediscovering forgotten items of their own among centuries of the same habit of "pretty shiny must be for me's" made the old raven chuckle.
" Never too old ,Never too old ".
Two of the crows rocking an old nest of twigs during a tug of war over a Bee-Ale bottle cap shook a few no longer brite buttons and a pocket watch with it's partner chain and fob out.
The buttons click clacked off and into the rocks while the watch landing just so ..dented and opened.
A lady's silhouette round daguerreotype fluttered about briefly after leaving it's longtime home in the pieces lid ,and catching a draft from the mornings rising currents tumbled up in staggered jumps back towards the peaks.
Raven heard the " pock" when the watch hit , and spying the broken lens glinting flew down from his crow watching seat to look it over.
The chain was held fast in a gap in the rocks and the tarnished case held little appeal anymore after a few tugs.
After an inquisitive peck at the lens , raven looked briefly at the crude map scratched on the inside of the lid the lady had kept secure from prying eyes so long , then hearing the crows still carrying on ;chuckled again and returned to his previous perch to watch more of the entertainment.
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