River Guide: Pawprints on the Riverbank

The Captain

A sweaty military man was walking at a very hurried pace to his captain's quarters. The military had sent a battalion to secure a path through this mountain range, and everything was set but for one unforeseen problem. They were now trying to cope with an issue they had never faced before. When the men got extra drunk or just plain cowardly, they'd make claims of monsters, mists, mischief, or any of several stories to justify doing nothing or even running away. Cowardice was typical, and also it was not tolerated. Today was like any other day, full of more stories. Only this time, they turned out to be all too true.

"Captain, there's a problem. The men, they won't follow your orders, Sir. They won't go into those hills. They say they can't and that they aren't allowed to!" A sweaty, dirty man in uniform was reporting his situation to his superior, and neither was content with the news of disobedience again. "Do I need to go up there myself and shoot one of them to make them follow the simplest of orders?" the captain asked his man in growing frustration and anger. "Why are they so afraid to go up there? What is their complaint THIS time? Ghosts? Goblins? What fairy tale have they drunk themselves into today?!" the captain asked in complete disgust. He was talking and carefully but quickly putting away maps and documents into his official military cabinets. He checked to ensure his sidearm was loaded and headed toward the door as the other man continued reporting.

"Well, Sir. Yes. They're all saying the same thing. They start through the trees making their way up the hillside and immediately see all kinds of shadows or ghosts. Sometimes it's people. Sometimes it's animals. None see the same thing in the same way, but none of the men can get past what they say they see when they try. They're terrified now and refuse to take another step up that hillside. Our Indian tracker says that the land beyond is set aside for the sacred spirits, and even he won't go anywhere near it. He said he'd kill himself before setting foot on that mountain, Sir. Perhaps if the captain himself would go ..." The captain yelled his interruption at the man. "Of all the childish nonsensical superstitious mumbo jumbo I've heard, this takes the cake! Get my horse ready, and I'll see for myself. If I don't find a ghost up there myself, there will be several hangings for mutiny by sundown. Do you understand!" he barked and got a reply of "Yes, Sir" repeatedly as the voice receded, moving outdoors with the man yelling to get a horse ready for the captain.

In minutes a rider in a clean uniform with brass and ribbons on his vest, a tight decorated hat, and smart-looking, clean boots rode off toward the distant hillside. A regiment followed right behind him. On their way there, he tore them to shreds verbally, yelling and threatening them with every ounce of his disappointment and rage that he could muster, and maybe a hair more. They arrived at the place that faced up the hillside, which they all refused to ride up or even walk up. It wasn't a challenging climb in any sense. It was clear with few obstructions. They'd seen far worse conditions in drying grass fields. The captain was boiling now. This was ridiculous. The trees were spaced for easy horse riding, and the grounds were relatively flat, with only tiny brambles and pinecones here and there. It was treasonous that they wouldn't go, and he'd see each man hanged that fell short now!

Barely a few steps by his horse onto the hillside, and it suddenly refused to go any further. It acted as if someone was holding the reins and was stopping it from even recognizing its rider's command to go forward. He kicked it roughly, and it simply didn't move. He cursed at the horse and got off it, tying its reins to the branch of a nearby tree, and he started to walk forward. To his men, he vanished then as if in a sudden mist or haze. He was there, and then, in another step, he was not there. It terrified them, and they called out for him loudly and with a sense of panic, but there was no returning response from the man. All they could do was wait now and shake in their boots. No one dared follow, and no one dared leave. Not without the captain. They'd be hanged as deserters for sure if they did.