Family Land Secrets part 4

Family Land Secrets part 4

"Unless you can get a headshot on a loner, guns only make them mad, and guarantee your death, either by the injured Bigfoot or one of their companions." Dr. Stein warned. "Does that answer your questions?"

"Yes, I think so. Just one more, what do they eat?" Jordan asked.

"They're omnivores, just like us. They'll hunt and can kill elk or even a small moose with their bare hands, but meat only accounts for about ten percent of their total caloric intake. They don't use fire, or any tools more complicated than clubs. They're more than happy with most root vegetables, but will most of their diet is seeds, especially pinon nuts." He answered, turning from the government conspirator back into the scientist that Jordan guessed was his real personality.

"It sounds like you're planning on going back for a visit." the doctor inquired. "I would recommend that you don't try feeding the wildlife, but it is still your land. I would encourage you to be extremely careful and take no undue risks. If you're going up there for the wildlife, I do ask that you keep your distance and do not scare them too far away. Please remember that these are our national treasures and treat them as such."

"Thank you, doctor. I'll keep that in mind." Jordan answered.

They said their goodbyes and hung up.

Early the next morning, Jordan had repacked his gear and loaded the motorcycle on the back of his pickup truck. He left behind his tent because he would be sleeping in the cabin his uncle built.
Jordan dipped into his savings to buy a new chainsaw, as well as a nice ax and some, saddlebags for the motorcycle.

He also had some supplies for fixing up the cabin, including some tar paper for the roof, and some sandpaper and varnish for the floor.

He brought food that could be cooked without water: burgers, steaks, potatoes, and hot dogs, along with some sides.

He had a tough time deciding whether to bring his revolver, but in the end decided he felt safer with it on his hip, even if Dr. Stein didn't believe it would do any good against the creatures. Jordan hoped it wouldn't even come to that.

By 11 AM Tuesday morning, Jordan was parking the truck on the side of a narrow dirt road and started widening the old trail that led to his property using the ax and chainsaw.

It took six trips to get all the supplies out of his truck and into the cabin, and it was after 4 PM when Jordan finally parked his motorcycle for good, bringing it inside the cabin for safekeeping, even though it seemed to fill up all the free space inside. He didn't want to risk the big alpha using it as a stress ball.
Jordan half-expected hairy giants to start coming out of the woods at any moment, but the serenity and isolation of the place were intact.

Jordan worked on the roof until sunset when he stopped for a quick dinner of a hamburger and baked beans. He had brought a nice LED lantern, which had days of battery life, and Jordan sat and read a book until late when he inflated a nice air mattress and climbed into his sleeping bag on top.

Jordan wasn't too surprised when he woke up to the screaming sounds again. They were all around the cabin, and Jordan counted at least 5 different voices.

Sticks and rocks were pounded against one another and thrown against the cabin.

The voices came in whistles and grunts mixed with screams and yells, and the woods were alive with the sounds of Bigfoot. Jordan peeked out the cracks around the windows but saw only brief movements in the moonlight.

Eventually, they moved off, but Jordan could hear them for another hour, calling and screaming through the woods.

The daylight belonged to Jordan. As the sun warmed the cabin, Jordan stretched and took his coffee outside. He had brought along real coffee, made with a French press, and some sugar for it.

A folding camp chair was more comfortable than the hard wooden chair, and Jordan sat outside the front door enjoying the fresh air.

After breakfast, Jordan once again set out to explore. He was glad that he hadn't scared off the group and stayed clear of the mine shaft where he knew they lived. He walked along the stream that ran the entire length of the two-mile property.

Near the edge of his property, he smelled the distinct musk of the Bigfoot and looked upwind. He spotted a dark shape on the ground between the rocks.

Jordan nearly ran in the other direction. He stopped himself and started slowly backing away. He watched the shape. It was breathing heavy, too fast for a sleeping breath rate.

There was dried blood on the rocks and more on the ground near the beast. Jordan knew that injured animals were often the most dangerous, but he stopped, and then against his better judgment, he approached the creature.

The animal turned its head as Jordan approached. Human eyes looked into Jordan's. They were intelligent eyes. There was pain and despair in them, and just a little fear.

It was a female Bigfoot, Jordan could see. She had full, round breasts, and there was certain femininity to her face. Jordan could just make out the folds of her sex through her deep brown fur.

She was smaller than the male Jordan had seen just a few nights earlier, he had stood around eight feet tall. This female was thin and petite at almost 6'6".

She sat up as Jordan got near, but her head seemed to spin, and her eyes rolled back. She collapsed suddenly.

Jordan got near enough to touch her, ready to spring back at a moment's notice. She was fully unconscious, though. Up close, her musk filled his nostrils. Not entirely unpleasant, but strong.

Jordan touched the long brown fur on her arm. It was softer than he expected. He stroked the fur gently, still ready to spring back in an instant.

Up close, Jordan could make out the extent of her injuries. She had a deep gash on the top of her head that was still oozing blood. Her lip was split, and she had bruises and cuts on her forearms, as though she was defending herself from an attack.

Jordan looked closer and saw bark and splinters in the wounds on her arm and head. She was attacked by her own species and left out here to die, blood still dripping from her wounds.

Jordan felt a thrill of fear as he started to lift her up to a sitting position. She grunted and moved her arm, and he nearly dropped her and ran. He knew it was stupid and dangerous, but he had to help this creature. She was a national treasure, after all.

Jordan was able to lift her onto his shoulders. He guessed that she weighed about 200 pounds, which was a little less than his own weight.

He carried her over a mile to the cabin, where he lay her in the shade of an aspen grove near the stream. He quickly went into the cabin and came out with his first aid kit.

He had a pouch of a quick clot, which he opened, and poured over the bleeding head wound. The bleeding stopped almost at once.

Next, he set about cleaning her arm wounds of all wood and bark and applying antibiotic ointment. He didn't put on any bandages, since she had so much hair that they wouldn't stick.

Jordan next got an old T-shirt and ripped it up into rags. He used a bowl and rag to clean the blood out of her fur.

Finally, he made up a bottle of Gatorade from powder, and slowly poured an ounce at a time into her mouth, making sure that she swallowed it. If she was at a hospital, they probably would have given her a blood transfusion, but Jordan hoped that keeping her hydrated would be enough.

The creature came awake as he was pouring the last of the Gatorade into her mouth. She extended a hand, knocking Jordan aside, and stood to run. She took a few steps before she collapsed again.

She was awake now but didn't try to rise again. Jordan looked into her eyes and noticed that one pupil looked more dilated than the other. She had a concussion.

To be continued