Matanuska – The Search for the Devil’s Tail preview
Something was drawing me away from my main objective, like iron attracted by a magnet. I knew the Devil’s Tail was out there someplace, and beyond that, the mysterious hidden valley. I had no doubt, if I looked long enough, I’d find it. Although, what I would discover after that still remained a mystery.
More than anything else, I wanted to see the creature again. I was sure its existence was tied to the valley, not only by legend, but by some other force I couldn’t explain just yet. I was beginning to think that meeting the creature again met as much to me as finding the legendary golden cache.
Seeing the creature last year proved it was no myth. All I’d read, all the tales I’d heard tell about it, weren’t what I had seen and experienced. It had shown no aggression towards me, instead, I saw a large man, covered with hair, which displayed emotions and seemed to understand why I had buried the remains of the dead miner I had discovered the year before, after being dead for so long. There was a lot about this strange man I just had to know more about.
My spirits were high and I was feeling light on my feet. It was one of those days when everything seemed to be going my way. Adrenalin was pumping thought my veins, energizing my body. My mind was clear and alert to everything around me. I could almost envision what the hidden valley, with its glistening waterfalls, would look like the first time I saw it. I thought of the creature and how our next meeting would turn out … if we were to ever meet again.
The upper reaches of the valley I now found myself in, near the glacier fields and rock strewn mountain peaks, were places where man seldom ventured. The recent hydraulics of the ice and the moraine along its edges often uncovered and revealed numerous ice caverns in the freshly scoured valley walls, leaving behind barren slopes, still free of vegetation where only mountain goats could traverse. I was a good place for someone to hide, if they did not want to be found.
By midday I had reached the point where I could see distant perma-pack snow. I had come to the upper reaches of the glacier fields and the headwater of several mountain streams. I kept looking for signs of a distant lake, but by noon nothing came into view. The air was thin, and I tired easily. The sun was slowly disappearing as the clouds began to thicken, but the weather remained fair and cool.
I was scanning the ridges to the east and west; looking for anything out of place or unusual
when something caught my eye. A huge, black rock formation pointing straight out of a sharp knife-ridge about three miles to the northwest stood out against the white clouds, at least five hundred feet tall.
The Devil’s Tail … there it was, at least it looked like what I had pictured in my mind. It was unusual in the way it had been formed. What was once a jagged triangular peak now sported a missing chunk of rock at its base, giving it a forked appearance, resembling the tip of the Devil’s tail. It appeared to be comprised of solid obsidian.
I’d hiked about a mile. The Devil’s Tail had begun to take on an even more ominous shape. It was then I spotted movement about one hundred yards ahead of me. My heart rate doubled. I couldn’t believe my eyes. It was the creature. I watched it for only a few seconds. Something about it looked different. It appeared to be smaller than the one I had confronted last year, no more than six foot, its hair medium brown. It stopped to look back at me, and then walked rapidly up the slope, disappearing over a small ridge above me.
It never reappeared.
I stood there and just stared out at the distant mountains ahead of me. I was only a half mile from the Devil’s Tail, and yet I was feeling a little uncomfortable, as very step drew me deeper into the mystery.
What lay ahead … will the legend prove true? More troubling … would I live to tell my story?