The female Sasquatch was worried.
The Hairless Ones were getting closer to the bedding area. Never before had they come so close. Both men were on horses too, which made it even harder to remain hidden.
Several paces away her mate stood watch, anxiety showing clearly in his face whenever he glanced back towards her. Thankfully the twins were quiet. Sasquatch children learn from a very early age not to make a sound when instructed that way.
For several weeks now the small troop had been forced to be extra cautious. The Hairless Ones and their bright yellow machines had been busy cutting roads deep into the troop's territory, seemingly completely ignorant of the presence of the small Sasquatch troop watching them constantly from the trees.
At one point there had been a bit of a fuss when one of the men had noticed the tracks foolishly left by her elder son. He had been given the watcher's role while the troop slept but his curiosity had gotten the better of him, encouraging him to move closer for a better look while the men were having their lunch. Luckily he had not been sighted although a near miss from a man relieving himself had forced the youngster to escape over a freshly disturbed patch of ground. It had been impossible to hide his tracks.
And now these two.
She wondered if they already knew of the troop's presence for they acted as though hunting but did not seem interested when once they cut the tracks of a deer.
They were steadily approaching the troop's favourite bedding area beside a fast running stream. It was as if the Hairless Ones knew of it for they were heading right for them!
Her son, acting as sentinel for the day, had run into the spot breathless only moments before, her mate, a very large alpha male, had immediately left to see for himself what was going on. He had immediately come back, gesturing for his son to grab the twins, ready to run, while he and his mate prepared to attack if they came closer.
The Hairless Ones did not stop, seemingly unaware that mere metres away two fully grown adult Sasquatch were about to attack.
But their horses became aware for both reared, snorting in fear of the imminent death on the other side of a small stand of brush. After a brief struggle the men regained control of their mounts and continued on.
The female Sasquatch did not want to kill them. Hairless ones always pursued the killers of their kind. But they were so close to her young. She looked at the fear in her son's eyes as he held the twins close. There had to be a better way, but how?
Maybe she could allow herself to be seen? Lead the men away?
She could clearly see the rifles in the scabbards, she would be exposed to their deadly sting for a long time.
They were getting closer, just about to come around the trees. They would be upon them in moments. She looked at her mate, who was about to attack. Catching his eye she gestured for him to stay and strode forth, right out into clear view in the stony bed of the creek. She heard the shouts but kept marching, quickly crossing the water and following it away, downstream, away from her family.
Risking a glance around she saw one of the Hairless Ones running, trying to hold something to its face with both hands. Was it a weapon?
It tripped, then steadied itself, leaning on a log and operating the thing it still held to its face. The other man was urging his wide-eyed horse towards her, his rifle held high, ready to aim and fire. Behind both men, not even hidden in the trees, she could see her mate, ready to attack still, but he held back. Her son, still holding the twins was taking the opportunity to move away and into the forest to safety.
Grimacing, she faced forward again, keeping her determined pace downstream. They had to keep watching her, and hopefully following her, just a little bit farther. She braced herself for the bullets, but none came.
Then she was in the safety of the trees again. With relief she cut left, then back in a loop to observe.
The two humans were pointing and shouting at each other, not even looking back to where her family had now disappeared to safety. They were both totally focussed on where she had disappeared, completely oblivious to her family, now safely away.
Even from where she lay hidden behind a tree, their words carried clearly... "I got it Bob! I got it on film! We're gonna be rich. Hotdang! Nobody will ever call Roger Patterson crazy again!"
Bluff Creek, 1967
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