URBAN LEGENDS…

Coal Black Eyes

By Elizabeth

The name’s Morrison, Detective Morrison, and bustin’ clues is the key to the game. Now, you better be listening to this, ‘cause this is one true tale you are not gonna wanna forget.

It didn’t happen that long ago, I reckon, oh… about three months ago. This here tale is true, I swear to it, by my little, thumb-whacking pinkie. May the Couarmangi pounce on me the once I tell a lie. "What or who is the Couarmangi?" you ask. Now, I can’t be telling you that, since that would ruin the whole story. No, you gotta hear it from the beginning, the way it was from the beginning. How I cracked the case of the missing hiker.

It happened all of a sudden actually. I mean, who would suspect it? There I was, sitting in my office, eatin’ my doughnuts and a sippin’ my coffee. Who comes bursting through my door? You’d never have guessed it: Bill Gates. Word of the famous spreads around fast, eh? So I says to Bill, "What do you want?" Bill slings the Seattle Post-Intelligence in my face. "So what about the President?!" I says.

"Not that," says Bill as he points to a small, lonely article.

"Hiker Killed in Cascades" it read.

"That was one of my best men. You have to go and find the killer, so that I can sue him!" Bill forcefully retorted.

"No prob, Mr. Gater, sir. I just need my pay first. Things aren’t cheap around here."

Of course, you probably know Bill, he just hands the check over, like someone giving away free candy.

Off on the hunt we go. Actually, I go. Bill had some work to do.

So there I am, up in the Cascades, searching for some clues. But there’s not one blood splatter, item from the missing hiker, nor weapon of any kind out here. What more could I do? But as I followed a stream, (I was a good Boy Scout, can ya tell?) I saw some smoke above the pine trees. Finally, a clue! I ran through the woods as fast as I could, yet as quietly as a deer. My ears were alert for any sound, eyes alert for any and every movement, nose alert for any unusual smells, and feet alert to carry me as far as I needed to go. I soon came upon a small little cabin, with the smoke bellowing from the top of the small squared chimney. Not at all what I was expecting. I was hoping for a hidden village of some Native American tribe. Feeling lost and getting nowhere with my investigation, I decided to knock on the door and see if my delightful charm would get me dinner. (You, yeah you, in the red slinky sweater, you’ve noticed the charm, eh?)

When the door opened, there stood an old, old man. Why he looked older than Santa Claus, and as a personal friend of Santy, that’s old. The guy was wearing too long red longjohns. Hey John, mind if I grab a bite to eat? (Notice where I got the name?) Gramps looked delighted for some company. Like I said, who could resist my charm?

"You know, sonny, you’re the first visitor I’ve had this week. I normally never get visitors, except for last week when a very bright and cheerful young lad, who worked for Microsoft, visited."

"He must not know," I said to myself. "You know, Gramps, the guy you just described was killed last week up in these mountains.

"Well I’ll be. And he was such a nice young lad too."

"You don’t seem so surprised."

"Nope, happened too many times. It’s hard to be shocked when you live smack in the middle of the Couarmangi’s territory."

"Couarmangi?"

"Listen," said Gramps as he took down an old, ancient, rusty, hard-covered book. "This was my great-great-great-grandfather’s journal. He was a settler, from the east of ‘Merica, to these parts. This here book has been passed down through generation to generation. Lemme read it to you.

"September 23, 1856. We’re entering the mountain pass of the Cascades. Almost to the Far West. Can smell the Pacific Ocean from here. It’s funny, reports from the Denny Party say that the Puget Sound was very rainy… it’s been hot and dry here every day. I have to stop now, it’s getting dark, and I don’t want to waste the candle.

September 30, 1856. We’re finally traveling on our second mountain of the Cascades. ‘Tis morn. We’ve stopped because we have to cross a river. It’s strange here. On the last mountain we were on, there were so many bugs. Everywhere you went, they followed you. You could hardly get to sleep either, there was a constant buzzing sound. Also, there it was incredibly dry and hot. Here it feels like a rainforest. It’s so dark, muggy, and humid. There are no bugs here at all, not one pesky fly or dang mosquito. We’ve seen no signs of wild life. Not even a squirrel. I hope we don’t run out of food. There’d be nothin’ to hunt.

October 4, 1856. We’ve had to stop here at the river. There seems to be four cattle missing. Where could they be?

October 5, 1856. Still stranded, we can’t find the missing cattle. There’s a little girl is missing too.

October 7, 1856. There’s something strange going on. Three other people are missing, and two more cows are missing, to add to the list. Being the fittest one of the bunch of travelers, I’m supposed to find them all. I wouldn’t do this, but we need to get going, and besides, the little girl is my second cousin.

October 8, 1856. We’ve checked every rock and tree in the area, can’t find any clue as to where the living beings have gone. But…after dinner, a drunken fellow came up to me saying that he saw a strange beast snatching a chicken and running, no, slinking away with it to eat. I dismissed him, but just ten minutes ago, someone trusting came up to me, reporting a lost chicken. Why does everyone come to me?

October 9, 1856. Last night, an old Indian from the Muskleshoot tribe came to the camp. He seemed terrified. When we asked why, he replied, "Don’t you know about this place? It’s haunted by the curse of the Couarmangi."

"The Couarmangi?" I asked. "What’s that?"

You mean you never heard of Couarmangi?"

"No," I replied.

"Some cougar, some man, some lizard. There once was a wealthy, mean, conceited, evil man named Giman, who lived in the area. He saw a lonely, shy, bashful cougar, once, when he was on a walk in these parts. That year, there was not much prey for the cougar, and all it wanted was some food. The man threw stones, rocks, and sticks at it, too mean to give the cougar some food. Then he saw the lizard. The lizard was all dry, there wasn’t enough rain that year, just like this year, so the place was in drought. The lizard wanted some water. Still, the conceited man was too conceited to give the lizard any water. Instead, he threw sticks, stones, and rocks at the lizard. The great god of living, who created cougar, lizard, and man, saw how bad the man was and decided to punish the man. Turned man into a horrible beast, some cougar, some lizard, and some man, called Couarmangi. Couarmangi gets plenty of meat, for a gift to the cougar, and plenty of water, for the gift to the lizard. All this water makes the territory humid. All this tortures the man. For punishment."

"That’s some talk for you, old man," I said.

"Is true!" said the Indian. "If you stay too long in Couarmangi’s territory, Couarmangi marks you, calling you its territory. When this happens, you can never move out of territory. I warn you, don’t stay for long, or Couarmangi mark you. You noticed that it’s so humid. It’s the Couarmangi’s muggy and wet breath that causes this. Also, there’s no wild life, except for plants, and there no bugs around ‘ere either. This is because the Couarmangi eats every living soul, bugs, cattle, …" he paused for a moment, "…humans."

The men around me looked uneasy as the ol’ Indian mentioned cattle and humans. "Hey, how do yer know about our cattle? You take ‘em?"

"No," replied the Indian, with no expression. "I told you. The Couarmangi."

The drunken fellow chuckled wickedly.

"When the Couarmangi strikes, you don’t know until you feel pain. Then it is over," warned the storyteller. "The Couarmangi can sneak up so quietly because he turn into many forms. He magical."

October 10, 1856. We’ve set out to find the missing souls. That Indian’s story is stuck in my head… what if it’s true?

October 13, 1856. It’s all over. We’re finally on our way across the Cascade Mountains as fast as we can. No one wants to talk about what happened. But I have to write it down, now. Here goes:

It was the tenth. The Indian guy had just left in the morning, after telling us that if we were crazy enough to go deeper into the forest, than we should at least go in a big group, to try to scare off the Couarmangi. He gave us some more advice. Whatever you do, don’t fall asleep in the forest, you have to be with at least two other people at all times, and don’t talk to any other being that you do not know, for that may be the Couarmangi in disguise. Then he ran down the wagon path we had taken coming up to this dreadful place, laughing hysterically. You’d think he was keeping something from us… something that would either aid or destroy our mission in finding the missing people and cattle.

We set off. There were 12 men from the wagon train. By noon, everyone was exhausted, sweaty, and hungry. We took out some food and quickly devoured it. Then we went on our way. A couple of minutes later we heard a scream from one of the men. To our surprise, when we turned around, one of the men was missing. We looked for him, but after two hours we had not found him, and had no more time to spare looking some more. We were confused, but it was already 3:00, and soon it would be dark.

It was at night when the horror started. We were all asleep, not listening to the Indian’s advice, and I was woken by the sound of a commotion, and woke the three men next to me. I quietly lit a lamp and shone it in the direction of sound. To our horror, there was the Couarmangi! He was devouring one of the men. We four that were awake could not move, for we were so frightened that our hearts had stopped cold. The beast glared at us with coal black eyes. There was hurt, sorrow, revenge, grief, and pain in those eyes. That’s what made us stiff as ice, those eyes. The Couarmangi then went back to his eating. He didn’t care about us. With that minute relief, we ran for our lives, us four, as fast as our feet would take us, leaving the other sleeping six to their doom. We didn’t stop running until we made it across a river, over a boulder, and down the side of a steep mountain and finally reaching our wagon train camp. We woke everyone, yelling at the top of our lungs, while using up the few gasps of breath that we had.

"The Couarmangi is the thief, killer, and monster that has haunted our camp for these past eleven days."

Everyone at camp had heard the story of the Couarmangi. We got ready to leave in the darkness, during the whole night. By the rise of the sun, we departed. "Farewell, Couarmangi!" I yelled. "And good riddance!"

We’ve been making slow progress, since we have hardly any food and six cattle are gone. But I’ve heard that we’re going hunting tomorrow, as soon as we clear Couarmangi country. We’ll be able to tell when we’re out of its territory by the amount of bugs there’ll be. After what we’ve been through, I’m sure everyone will be delighted to see the bugs.

This is the end of my entries, I’m gonna stop writing and enjoy life. It feels good to be alive. We’re still mourning the death of all that were taken by the Couarmangi, but we’re coming so close to the ocean, that the ocean is the only thing that most of us can think about right now.

"The end," the settler finished as the sun dipped into the horizon, ending the day.

There was a tear in my eye. It touched me, as I pictured the settlers riding in their wagons across the plains and mountains. It reminded me of Zorro, galloping on his horsie into the distance.

"How was that?" the settler’s eyes looked hard into mine. Somehow, I could not take my eyes off his eyes; it was as if I was hypnotized. As I stared, his eyes turned a glowing, reddish coal black.

"Unusual story, eh?" sizzled the figure before me. Its hands and feet turned into paws with claws, claws each as sharp as an ax blade. The body grew into that of a wild cat, a tannish sandy color. There were cobwebs, bugs, grass, dirt, leaves, and tree sap matted in its fur. Out from the buttocks sprouted a lizard tail, a dark green that was the same color as the pine trees surrounding the cabin. The tail was as large as a fully-grown croc’s tail and could probably have slashed a tree in half with one swipe. There were green crisscrossing lines on the tail, and it looked as firm and steady as a rock. Oooh, how it would hurt to be swiped by the creature’s claws and tail. As I broke free from my shocking stare at the hulk, I drew up one conclusion: This was the legendary Couarmangi. I now believed everything that I had been told about it, it was all true. All of a sudden it hit me with full force: This thing’s gonna eat me if I don’t run. I bolted with a blood-curdling scream. I hate horror stories, especially when they turn real.

Anyhow, the monster hissed after me, "You can run, but you can’t hide. I’ll always be faster than you so no matter how hard you run, I’ll catch up to you."

I just kept running. All of a sudden, I tripped on the slippery mud, or was that the Couarmangi attacking me by pouncing on my back? The Couar was upon me. It gave me a cold glare with its sinister eyes, wheezing, "Say goodbye, you pitiful creature!" Its hand raised to rip out my life. All of a sudden there was a piercing, shrill, screeching, ear piercing sound, like a whistle. I’ll never be able to explain what it was exactly. The Couarmangi stopped dead at what he was doing. He turned around and bounded into the darkness, the moonlight flooding the forest the minute he was out of sight. I just stayed sprawled there, breathing heavily, so shaken up I couldn’t think right. Finally I gained my common sense. I ran as quickly as I could past the stream, down the mountain, and through the pines to my car, confused, scared, and terrified to the bone. I then drove all the way home as hastily as possible, (the traffic held me up.)

Everything you need to survive in the wilderness: water supply, bug spray, hunting classes, supplies, tools, and technique classes to fight off anyone who threatens you, especially cougars, lizards, and pesky humans

So that’s how it was, from beginning to end. Believe what you will, but I still think the Couarmangi, a.k.a. the settler, is up there guarding its territory, like a mother bear guards her cubs. I guess this is one mystery, sad to say, that I’ll never know the exact answer to. But think of it this way, I mean, it wasn’t a total loss after all. See, Bill Gates found out the news and, lovin’ money, made a computer game of the Couarmangi, called, "Couarmangi". Cool title, eh? By the way, you can buy it at your local computer game stores for $56.00 only. Because of my work for Mr. Gater, I get 25% of the profits. As I always say, "It’s all in a days work."