Chapter 7

After what I had hoped was a suitably impressive command speech, I looked at each of the group. More to enforce my leadership than anything else.

As I squatted down by the fire, I started Chuckling. “So, bigfoot, eh? What makes you boys think you can track, let alone catch Mr. Fuzzy?”

As the apparent leader, professor Burroughs was the first to speak up. “Mr. Reynolds, if you’re going to tell me that you are a disbeliever, I expected that before I even contacted Mr. Wadsworth. Most people consider the sasquatch as myth or fiction. Maybe I’ll be able to convince you that there is something to the myths and legends.”

I started shaking my head, “Professor Burroughs, don’t misunderstand me Doc. Whether or not Mr. Fuzzy exists, is still up to debate with me. But I can tell you right now that if there is such a creature, he’s nowhere near here. Well, I’ll take that back. There might be one in the area. But no bunch, tribe, mob, or family of sasquatch within 20 miles.”

“Would you care to explain that, Mr. Reynolds.”

“Sure thing Doc. But first, you start calling me Matt, ok?” He nodded his acceptance.

Now that the preliminaries were over, and I was warmed up to the subject, I dived in with both feet. “Let me ask you a question about Mr. Fuzzy. Why do you and your colleagues think he’s stupid? We’re talking about an apex predator that can exist in diverse environments. Everything from the Himalayas to the Florida swamps. A creature that has been able to avoid humans, fairly successfully for several centuries. And yet populates every continent. A creature that, up to and since, the Patterson / Gimlin film, has been so successfully camera shy as to avoid any definitive photo’s, even with everybody and his brother tromping into the hills with every contraption and gimmick possible?”

Doc was shaking his head, “Matt, I think you are mistaken. I, personally, don’t underestimate the sasquatch’s intelligence. I agree that there is precious little physical evidence. But, the absence of evidence isn’t evidence of absence. Many animals live in those same environments without any indications of superior intelligence, including predators at the top of the food chain. I would go so far as to speculate that an apex predator wouldn’t need superior intelligence. That animal could be there by virtue of strength, size, or hunting ability.”

I slowly shook my head. “Doc, you are still missing the point. Mr. Fuzzy is smarter than you. He and his relatives are leagues smarter than you and your fellow cryptozoologists in this environment.”

“This is what happened, the minute, you stepped into these hills, he knew you were here and had a halfway good idea where you were headed. He has to know these things. He and his family’s survival depends on knowing what animals are in the area. Is that cougar just passing through, or is it a juvenile male looking for a hunting range? Is that brown bear a female with cubs, and dangerous? His family’s survival depends on him knowing everything going on around him. Particularly dangerous things. And believe me, if Mr. Fuzzy is smart, he considers you, me and every other human as dangerous.”

“He also needs to know where his next meal is coming from. Where is that deer herd at. You know? The one you guys spooked yesterday morning. He needs to know if the gooseberries over on the east slope are ripe, or are the cattails ready. He needs to be a genius when it comes to his home turf.”

“Now it isn’t quite hunting season, so he probably had to jump the gun a little and pack the kids, his wife and mother in law off to the cousins two ridgelines over to the north. The hunting season that worries him is our hunting season. His hunting season is year-round. But he knows that, soon, a bunch of idiots with guns will be up here shooting at anything that moves. If you don’t believe me, ask the fish and game folks about how many slow elk are taken in a year.”

“While he’s getting the family out of danger, and I’m sure he went with them, after all, what daddy doesn’t want to keep an eye on the wife and kids. To make sure they’re safe. He probably left his worthless brother in law, ‘Farts a lot’ behind, to keep an eye on us. And to make sure we didn’t poke our noses into something we shouldn’t.”

“But either tomorrow or the next day, he’ll be back. He’ll probably hurry back. I’ll bet he doesn’t trust his brother in law. Who would trust somebody named ‘farts a lot.’ And until we leave his range, he’ll keep an eye on us. But he has no ambition to have a confrontation with us. He has seen what we humans can do. He knows about guns and arrows and iron traps, and the damage they can do. So, he’ll keep his distance and watch. Unless we start to go somewhere, he doesn’t want us to go. Then he’ll make his presence known.”

Edgar, the cameraman, spoke up. “Are you suggesting that the sasquatch might become violent?”

“See, you’re still thinking about Mr. Fuzzy the wrong way. He’s not ‘the sasquatch,’ he’s smart, experienced in, and a master of his environment. Even I take a backseat compared to his abilities up here.”