Spindle Quest: Chasing Lost Creek Gold. - Slumach

“That’s clearly not a small animal—well I’m going to
see what it is.” Shawn picked up a large stick and started
to walk towards the dark forest in front of him. Eric and
I slowly followed as I stood with the flashlight behind
Shawn.
“Friesen shine it over there,” Shawn said as we walked
towards a small entrance in the forest. The creek dipped
down into a gulley and as we started walking into it there
was another loud snap this time coming from behind us.
“What was that?” Shawn said looking around behind
him.
“Sorry that was just me,” Eric explained.
We walked farther and farther into the darkness of the
forest, but there was nothing around us except trees and
everything looked all right in the world. Then there was a
flash of something moving quickly through the flashlight
beam.
Eric gulped. “What the hell was that?”
“That’s a good question,” Shawn replied, “It kind of
looked like a cat.”
“You mean a cougar?” I said.
“Well, I meant a cat, but yes, it could be cougar.”
“Forget this if I’m going to get eaten alive by a cougar.
What I am going to do is sit at a campfire,” Eric said heading
back to camp.
Shawn and I came to the conclusion that Eric had the
right idea and followed. We sat around the campfire in
44
silence waiting for any sound that came from the forest.
After fifteen minutes passed and nothing happened and
just when things started to get back to normal, we all heard
a strange noise coming from upriver.
“That was a growl,” Eric said with panic in his voice.
I shone the flashlight into the darkness, and that’s when
we all saw it: a set of eyes staring at us from up above on
the rocky cliffs. My hand went for the only weapon I had:
my hunting knife, and Shawn had the poker he was using
for the fire clutched in his hand. Then, without hesitation,
the cougar leaped down from his rocky perch straight at
us. Eric dived behind a large rock next to the river and
I tried to run across the river but slipped. I was pulling
myself out of the icy river when I saw Shawn over at the
campfire striking at the cougar with the poker. I picked up
a rock and chucked it at the cougar as hard as I could. The
rock hit the cougar on the side and he dashed across the
river and back up the rocky cliffs.
“Gryba, you alright?” I yelled over the roar of the water.”
“Let’s get out of here, Friesen,” he yelled, “where is Eric?”
Eric was hiding behind a large rock near Shawn with his
large army knife in his hand. Thunder echoed through
the rugged canyon and the entire sky lit up. The flashes of
lighting were just enough to show two cougars sitting high
up on the cliff watching us. The cougar had not run away
but had returned with reinforcement. We quickly packed
our gear as the cougars stared at us from their rocky perch.
© Daryl Friesen 2009