Satan’s Spell loomed like a green monster asleep on countless rolling hills that separated two vast territories. One led to the merciless desert and the gigantic Fort Hook while the other led up through millions of trees scattered across the hills pointing their spiky fingers at the cloudless blue heavens. The sight of the forest was breath-taking to the unwary and looked like a good place to hunt for fresh meat.
There was plenty of game within its seemingly endless boundaries and plenty of creatures to prey upon them but this was not and never had been a safe hunting ground.
Those who entered were seldom if ever seen again and yet there were still those who travelled to this unholy place. Hidden somewhere within its dramatic landscape was a high waterfall which sent millions of gallons of fresh water down through numerous creeks. The secretive waterways were like the legs of a spider as they spread out from the deep lake set at the base of the continuous falls.
A dense vapor hung like a hundred ghosts above the sparkling waters and lured unsuspecting prey of all descriptions to its precious liquid.
The young prospectors steered their mounts through the morning filtered air toward the lake as water kept pounding into it from the falls that loomed above it like a paralyzed monster.
They had risen from their campsite early after surviving the long night at the very edge of the forest and then decided to venture deeper into the jaws of the infamous Satan’s Spell. Neither Bobby Drew nor his partner Cole Jones realized that a dozen or more eyes were watching the riders as they led their pack horses toward the falls.
So far their journey had been nothing like they had expected from the tall tales that so many had warned them about. It had been peaceful all night and apart from a hooting owl, they had not heard anything out of the ordinary.
Jones and Drew had slept so well that they had risen early, packed up their equipment after breakfast and set out in search of a good place to explore for the gold they had heard about.
The only thing which had started to make them suspicious of the trail they were following through the dense forest was the fact that they had yet to see anything on top of the almost black soil that resembled the precious ore they sought.
It had been Drew who reined in first as they reached the rim of the lake and allowed his mount to lower its head to drink from the ice cold water. By the time he dismounted his partner had halted his own horse next to his. Both men led their pack animals to the water and allowed them to drink as well before they started to fill their canteens.
‘You hear that, Cole?’ Drew asked as he dangled his canteen by it leather strap into the water.
Jones scratched his head as he unscrewed his canteens stopper to copy his partner’s actions. He looked at Drew with a blank expression on his face.
‘Hear what?’ he asked. ‘I don’t hear nothing, Bobby.’
Bobby Drew started to nod in agreement. ‘Me neither, Cole.’
Drew frowned as he turned his head in all directions in an attempt to hear a familiar sound. A sound which did not present itself to the young prospector.
‘I can’t even hear birds,’ he admitted nervously.
Jones returned the stopper to his canteen and hung it from his saddle horn as his eyes darted around the dense greenery in search of whatever lay hidden in the brush.
‘I’m kinda worried, Bobby,’ Jones said as he placed his hand on top of his holstered six-shooter as his eyes vainly searched for something. Something which might explain the unnerving quiet that had silenced every living creature in the forest. Yet no matter how hard they strained their eyes or listened, they saw and heard nothing. Nothing but the encroaching tree trunks which pointed like ghostly fingers at the heavens.
Drew was about to place his boot in his stirrup when his partner grabbed his arm and turned him around. The startled young gold-seeker was about to curse when his mouth was covered with a free hand.
He stood still as Jones pointed across the lake.
Jones squinted to where his friends finger was pointing and then felt the hairs on the nape of his neck start to rise as he too saw something. Something which made his heart start to race.
‘See it?’ Drew said above the continuous thundering water as it fell from the falls above their heads.
Cole Jones simply nodded in answer. He did see something and it scared the hell out of him. He grabbed the long leathers which dangled from the horse’s bridles.
‘I see somebody looking at us from over them tangled weeds, Bobby,’ he said as he led his mount and saddle horse back away from the lake. ‘No wonder the birds ain’t singing.’
Drew agreed and quickly mounted. ‘Yeah somebody is sure taking a keen interest in us, partner. I just hope he ain’t got a carbine to pick us off with.’
‘I reckon we ought to get out of here, Bobby,’ Jones said nervously as he too mounted his horse and gathered up its loose leathers.
Drew turned his mount away from the lake.
‘Don’t be such a yellow belly,’ he said as he pulled his six-gun free of its holster and readied it for trouble. ‘We’re riding around this big puddle and finding out who that varmint it and if he’s alone.’
Jones was not so confident but was willing to follow his partner anywhere if it meant they could resume their hunt for gold nuggets.
The horsemen steered their horses away from the lake and moved behind a wall of trees and wild entangled undergrowth and began to proceed around the expanse of lake water toward the onlooker.
‘I hope you’re right about this, Bobby,’ he asked as he secured his pack horse to his saddle cantle. ‘I’d hate to be riding into trigger-happy varmints.’
‘C’mon, Cole,’ Drew steered his horses further away from the lapping water and looked back at his following partner. ‘We’re gonna cross them creeks down yonder and head on down through them trees and creep up on that critter from behind.’
The pair of prospectors rode into the shafts of sun rays which filtered through the tree canopies and began to cross the first of the shallow rivers. The thick undergrowth and countless tree trucks hid the horsemen from view and allowed them to venture unseen across the winding creeks until they found themselves on the opposite side of the lake.
They quickened their pace until they were roughly where Drew had originally pointed before they had set out from near the falls. Both riders slowed their mounts as they peered through the undergrowth searching for the inquisitive prey.
They drew back on their reins and stopped their horses a few dozen feet away from where they had spied the face looking out at them through the bull-reeds. The area was deep in shadow even though the sun had only barely started to rise to announce yet another day.
Yet their searching eyes spotted him.
‘There he is,’ Drew whispered to his partner.
‘I see him, Bobby.’
Drew and Jones quickly dismounted and tethered their long leathers to the trees which faced them. Both the young prospectors had their guns drawn as they moved cautiously through the undergrowth to where they knew they had spotted the uninvited onlooker.
Jones stopped first and used the barrel of his .45 to point through the brush and trees. They could just about see the top of his head above the undergrowth.
Both men cocked their weapons as their hearts pounded like war drums inside their chests. They crept closer as tall grass swayed before them.
‘There he is, Bobby,’ Jones whispered.
‘I see him, Cole.’ Drew led the way through the brambles and trees of every girth with his partner close on his heels. They held their guns in trembling hands and moved quietly forward toward the back of the man’s head.
Each had the same thought flash through their skulls at the same time. Whoever this varmint was, he had not heard their approach. Sweat trickled down their faces from their hat bands as they moved from shadow to shafts of sunlight.
Then as Drew got within about ten feet of their target, he ran and leapt through the reeds and tall grass at the man hidden by the thick undergrowth.
To the utter surprise of the prospector, Drew’s arms grabbed at the body of the man but found nothing except a four-foot high pole where his severed head had been positioned upon. As the head fell on to the muddy ground, Drew crashed empty armed into the moist weeds. He scrambled around with his gun still in his shaking hand.
He was utterly bemused.
‘Did you get the bastard, Bobby?’ Jones asked as he waded through the savage thorn bushes after his partner.
His question hung in the air as he saw the severed head on the muddy ground close to where Drew had knocked it off the pole after he had dived upon the body which was not there.
Jones stood staring at the head and swallowed hard as his trembling hand slid his six-gun back into its holster. He was both stunned and horrified by the sight of the head. It had been chopped off its body and placed upon a pole in some sort of ritualistic manner.
Bobby Drew walked through the boggy ground back to the head and his open-mouthed partner. Both men looked at one another and then stared in disbelief at the sickening sight.
‘What the hell?’ Drew stammered as he too holstered his weapon and knelt down beside the severed head. He inhaled deeply as his narrowed eyes studied the head carefully. ‘I’ll tell you one thing for sure, Cole.’
‘What?’ Jones edged closer to the unexpected discovery as he leaned over and stared at the head.
‘This critter is dead,’ Drew smirked.
The severed head had not been there very long, they both silently thought. It still had flesh and hair on its dismembered skull. Its glazed eyes still remained in their sockets staring with sightless curiosity at its surroundings.
Both men rose up and moved together in shared terror.
‘How long do you figure that head has been there on that pole, Bobby?’ Jones asked nervously. ‘I don’t think it could have been there long.’
‘You’re right, Cole,’ Drew agreed. ‘That critter was probably killed less than a week ago. He ain’t started to rot yet.’
Cole Jones was about to speak when his eyes widened in horror. His right arm raised and pointed a few feet away from where they were stood.
‘Look.’ He gasped.
Bobby Drew did look. What he saw was even more chilling than their discovery of the head. This was the stuff of nightmares and they had stumbled upon it innocently.
Hidden from view, due to the tall reeds, a line of similar atrocities had been placed along the lakes edge. Drew moved away from his partner and stared at eight other heads on poles. They were in various levels of decay. The furthest away from the prospector had little skin or hair remaining upon its skull.
‘Holy smoke,’ he gasped as he turned to his partner. ‘Look at them, Cole. Look at the poor critters.’
‘I’m looking, Bobby.’ Jones trembled as he dried his sweating face on his shirt sleeve and then swung around on his heels as his eyes vainly searched for the people that had committed these outrages.
Drew moved back to his partner and then led him through the trees and brush back to where they had left their mounts. He had never been as gripped by fear before and it showed. The usually confident prospector was moving as fast as he was able through the tangled undergrowth with his equally terrified friend close behind. The sound of both men’s clothes being ripped apart by the unruly bramble thorns filled the silent air.
‘Who do you reckon them critters were, Bobby?’ Jones asked as he continued to look over his shoulders.
‘It’s hard to tell, Cole,’ Drew replied as he scrambled through the bushes toward their waiting horses. ‘The only thing for certain is that they were white folks. Who they were is a lot harder to tell.’
‘I heard that a bunch of outlaws were holed up here.’
Drew forced his way through the final few trees to their horses and pulled his reins free. He grabbed his saddle horn and swung himself up on to his saddle. As he poked his right boot into its stirrup he watched as Jones mounted beside him.
‘Outlaws?’ he repeated before turning his mount. ‘You mean that hard-boiled outlaws could end up like that?’
Jones nodded.
‘If tough outlaws could end up like that,’ Drew added. ‘We ain’t got a chance. I’m for riding out of this damn forest before whoever done that killing does the same to us.’
‘I’m with you, Bobby,’ Jones said as they started to negotiate their way out of the infamous Satan’s Spell. ‘We must have been mighty lucky last night but I don’t believe in pushing my luck. Let’s get out of this place while we still got our heads joined to our bodies.’
The horsemen led their pack horses behind their weary mounts and continued to desperately search for a safe route out of the infamous forest before they too fell prey to whoever had slaughtered the dead men close to the lake.
‘Where in tarnation is the main trail, Cole?’ Drew drove his spurs into his horse’s flanks. ‘Where the hell are we?’
‘Just head down hill, Bobby,’ Jones advised his increasingly panicking partner. ‘We’re bound to find our way out of here if we just head downhill.’
It sounded simple enough but nothing in this mysterious forest was either simple or straightforward. The weeds were so overgrown in parts that neither horseman was sure if they were travelling uphill or down. Low hanging branches kept blocking their chosen route and forced them to alter direction.
The prospectors continued to search for the way out of the perilous forest. Yet the dense undergrowth hampered them every step of the way. Both the young riders knew that all of the stories they had heard about Satan’s Spell were true. This was indeed a devilish place that harbored evil behind every tree trunk they managed to negotiate passed. The horror began to grow inside their pounding hearts.
Neither horseman knew who they were trying to escape from as they whipped the shoulders of their mounts with the tails of their long leathers in a futile attempt to increase their speed and pace.
It felt to the fleeing prospectors that hundreds of eyes were watching their every move and just waiting for an opportunity to unleash their deadly weaponry and add two more victims to their bloody tally.
Their minds were racked with terror. A terror which had been steadily growing since their gruesome discovery of the heads on pikes.
Both Drew and Jones knew that every passing moment made them targets for those who seemed intent on killing the uninvited intruders to the land that was Satan’s Spell.