Читать книгу American Indian Ghost Stories of the West - Antonio Sr. Garcez - Страница 19

This following story is an eye opening one that I assure you will leave you with much food for thought. Anyone who has ever gone hunting in the wilderness might have at least one or more stories of encountering “something” strange or unexplainable. The following story given to me by Robert might just linger in your thoughts for a long time to come. I’ve visited with Robert twice since our initial meeting. He’s introduced me to other areas of his reservation where many unexplained paranormal “power spots” exists. Because of my own strong spiritual beliefs, I have never visited these areas without him. At this point I caution anyone who might go exploring unto reservation lands for the purpose of simply “experiencing” ghosts. You have been warned.

— Antonio

“One winter in the month of January, when I was seventeen, my brother and father, along with my father’s two good buddies, went on a deer-hunting trip in the Hualapai valley. This was a hunting trip that none of us will ever forget. Even now a strange feeling comes over me when I think back to what we all witnessed years ago, on what started out to be just an ordinary outing. That winter day I experienced an example of the power of spirits that comes forth from the land the Hualapais call home.

Two weeks before, my father had spoken to three Indian fellas in town. These guys mentioned to him about the big deer bucks they had seen browsing and running within a deep canyon. To offer further proof, they asked my father to walk with them out to the road where their pick-up truck was parked. The men proudly pulled off a large plastic tarp, which was covering the bucks they had killed. He told me those guys had some of the most beautiful bucks he had ever seen. He asked the three guys for detailed directions regarding the location of their successful hunting. As they gave him directions, he wrote down every road, turn and curve. In our Indian way, we don’t hold back information about such hunting areas. It’s traditionally right that we share such information among our people, and it’s something that goes back a long way with the Hualapai.

My father arrived home and told my brother and I about the deer. Soon we had planned a hunting trip. My father was convinced he too could shoot a deer or two just like those guys in town had. He got on the phone and invited two good friends of his. The date was set.

We knew the weather would be cold so we packed a good supply of food and warm clothes. My father enjoys eating hot chile so my mom made him about two dozen beef burritos with some very hot red chile, all rolled up in foil. These he planned to heat up on the campfire. We loaded the pick-up with three days supply of food and water, the burritos and our hunting gear, and then off we drove to meet up with my father’s two friends.

We started out in the early morning, and although it was a very cold winter morning, there was no snow on the ground. The weather was perfect. We soon came to the main turn-off from the highway. It was a dirt road, which was not too rough for the first five miles but then got very rough as we made another turn on to another road. The sun was already up in the east as we started our way up over a hill. We stopped at the top of the hill and took a short coffee break. As we stood standing around the two trucks in the empty landscape drinking our hot coffee, we suddenly heard a strange sound come from the west. It was like the sound of a hundred hoof beats, the sound of many horses going at a full gallop. It came from nowhere; it just sort of started up and lasted for a few seconds, then it ended. We expected to see a herd of horses come up onto the hill, but there was nothing visible, not even a dust cloud. None of us could explain what it was. We nervously joked about it being a flying jet, but the sky was, as far as we could see, clear of any aircraft. Not saying another word, we finished our coffee, got back into the trucks and continued on our way.

The time now was eight-thirty in the morning and I could tell that the trucks were not going to be able to continue any further on the very rocky road we were driving on. We decided to stop and make camp in the middle of a distant, small grove of juniper trees. The wind was still and the air was cold and crisp as we opened our tents and arranged them around a rock fire ring that my brother formed.

After making camp we decided to eat some food, and then head out with our rifles towards the hills in the direction we were told the deer would be. We followed an old coyote trail that went down the eastern side of a ridge. We were careful not to talk loudly, or make loud sounds with our footsteps. Deer are very alert and can be easily spooked. We noticed that the area was littered with deer droppings. A good sign!

The area was sparsely spotted with medium to tall junipers, and in the distant narrow valleys were a few groves of cottonwoods and oaks. My father knew that deer like to browse in these areas, so we were constantly trying to pick out any movement in the distance. Suddenly, just as earlier before, the weird sound of hoof beats started up again. We all stood still and waited. Then, just as before, the sound came toward us and soon disappeared. This time we were not so quick to dismiss the sound as being a jet plane. We softly spoke among ourselves, but said nothing about it being an omen of bad medicine. We knew it would not be a good thing to talk about it any further, because to do so would bring us a bad hunt.

We again picked up the hike and continued towards the valley below. The time was now one in the afternoon, three hours since we left our campsite. As we entered the valley and the grove of tall trees, we were startled as a porcupine came out from behind an old stump and gave us all a fright. It was difficult to keep from laughing loudly. We all felt a sense of relief at our little brother’s sudden appearance. As we exited the other side of the grove of trees, my father, who was now walking ahead of us, spotted some deer on the side of the hill. He stopped his walk and lowered his left hand, exposing the palm, which was a signal for us all to immediately stop. We stood still and viewed the deer, quietly scanning the large herd before us. There were ten does and three really beautiful bucks. What a sight! This was what we had all dreamed of.

We spoke in soft voices, communicating to each other how best to get a shot at the bucks. Then, without warning, something scared the deer. They must have seen something big or dangerous because they bolted and went running. They couldn’t possibly have seen or caught our scent among the trees. We automatically got down on our bellies and watched as the deer darted just a few yards away from us. We froze like statues, trying to camouflage into the surrounding brush and trees. Just as it appeared that the deer were going to reach us, they darted in another direction and disappeared behind a small ridge.

We were speechless, and wondered about the sudden change in the deer. We thought there must have been a hungry mountain lion or something very scary that had attempted to attack them. We rose to our feet and looked toward the area where the deer had been grazing and did not see anything unusual at all, neither a mountain lion nor even a bird. Nothing. Things were now becoming too strange for us to dismiss all these experiences. Something other than coincidence was at work here. My father spoke first and said, “I think we should perhaps offer a prayer for guidance and asked for protection from whatever is tracking us in these hills.” My father’s two older friends agreed and in our native language we all bowed our heads and prayed.

After praying, we decided to continue tracking the deer and headed in the direction of their escape. It didn’t take long before we found ourselves in another canyon walking between tall stonewalls. A small stream of water bubbled out from a large sandy area, which formed a shallow pool of water. All around the outer edges of this pool were green, mossy plants and deer tracks. We knew we had found a deer water hole. The only problem was that we were a long hike away from our supplies and shelter. We knew that it would be better to head back to camp and start out earlier the next morning.

We climbed up and over a large pile of boulders, then hiked along the canyon wall for a short distance, then headed up and out of the canyon. We made it over the boulders with no trouble, but when we began to hike along the canyon wall, my brother called to my father to look at something on the walls. There on the walls were ancient petroglyphs, stone pictures that were carved on the canyon walls centuries ago by prehistoric native people. These carvings were not the usual ones, which we were accustomed to seeing on other walls in other canyons. These were not pictures of sun, bird, stars and lightning symbols. These were pictures of people without heads, or with the heads and arms of animals. There were pictures of owls and figures with opened mouths. My father and his friends spoke out loud, “These pictures tell that this canyon area is full of supernatural forces. The pictures of headless people mean that bad witches and animal spirits were working together to make bad medicine here many years ago.” We all agreed that to get out of this canyon as soon as possible, would be the best thing to do.

We hurried our hike and soon reached the top of the canyon. We reached our camp just after dark. We got dinner going on the fire and after eating our fill, drank a few cups of coffee. Not once did we mention the weird sounds, the deer’s reaction or the petroglyphs we had experienced that day. It is best to not talk about such things. To do so, we believe, would call to us the dark forces. We decided at around eight that evening to call it a day and get into our sleeping bags. After placing some more wood in the fire we all stretched out, close to the fire ring. We were very tired from all the hiking of the day, and were eager to get enough rest for the next day’s activities. Very soon after zipping up into our bags, we fell into a deep sleep. I must have been the last one to nod off because I remember hearing everyone’s snoring before falling asleep. The next thing I remember is being suddenly awakened by a loud snapping sound coming from one of the burning logs in the fire.

I opened my eyes and stared at the black, moonless sky above. I remember thinking to myself, what a beautiful sky it was, as I viewed all the stars filling the dark spaces from one vast direction to the other. Then I turned to face some movement, which caught my attention in the brush a short distance from our camp. I saw what looked like a naked person crouching down on his legs staring at me! I thought that I must have been imagining this because of how tired I was. I closed my eyes and rubbed them with my cold fingers. I again turned my attention to the figure in the distance and sure enough, it was still there, just staring at me. I began to get scared, thinking it might be someone who was going to rob us. I knew that my rifle was just a few feet away from me, but I would need to react quickly in order to do any good.

As I observed this person, I realized that he was the size of a child. I watched as he made a quick motion and stood straight up. That did it for me. I threw off the sleeping bag and yelled for everyone to get up as I went for the rifle. I yelled,” Hey, there’s a guy over here.” Everyone reacted quickly by jumping out of his sleeping bags. I told them about the person I had seen in the bushes. My father listened to me and then said; “I had been seeing that guy for some time before you woke us. There are other spirits with him as well. I’ve been seeing two more of them moving from juniper bush to juniper bush.” This got my brother a bit scared. He spoke: “Well what are we going to do. Will they hurt us, do they want us to leave this place?” My father’s friend responded: “I think we should pack up and leave this place. These are not good spirits. We saw the pictures on the rocks; those are not good pictures. Those are pictures of witches and people who work with bad spirits. I really think we should leave this place tonight.”

We threw more wood on the fire and we got it burning brightly. We decided to take my father’s friend’s advice and leave the canyon that night. As we packed up our gear, I again noticed the shadows of people, or spirits, running from bush to bush. I let the rest of the men know what I had just seen. My father decided to sing a prayer and the rest of us joined in. My father’s friend then ended the prayer by announcing, in the direction of the spirits, that the creator was watching over our well being and that they should leave us alone. Suddenly, we heard the low sound of laughter and hoof beats leave our camp. This is when I knew our power of prayer helped us chase away what ever was watching us.

We all got in our trucks and drove home that night. We did not speak again about our experience until the next morning. During breakfast we told our mother about our experience. She said that during the day and night we were gone, an owl had been making hooting sounds in the tree in our front yard. This was very unusual and she knew that this was an omen that something bad was happening to us. She herself began to pray for us to return safely home. Aside from this experience I have had a couple more that have taken place, but I don’t think I’d like to talk anymore about this.”