SPIRIT BEASTS

Secora James ran from cave to cave on Chad’s Ennedi Plateau, thinking, what am I doing here? How do I even know the water witcher is out here?  I thought I heard Mosa scream, but maybe I just imagined it. 

The formations that were a part of the mesa she was racing across seemed surreal, like cloaked statues, anthills, mushrooms, or dung heaps. Panting hard, she approached the first of three caves she’d been told about. There was nobody inside, only the tracks of small rodents and the snakes that followed them. 

Just two more to check. She recalled that Anthony, the tracker, had mentioned three distinct caves near their job site. Her mouth and throat were parched, and she prayed she wouldn’t sprain an ankle as she ran on through the rugged terrain, looking for another cave. Suddenly, she noticed she wasn’t alone. Where did these dogs come from? Why are they running with me? The canines resembled thin pointers or small greyhounds, with pale dun spots on a white background. Their eyes focused ahead as they ran between and around her legs. I’m gonna trip for sure!

She cautiously approached the entrance to the second one, taking a moment to arm herself with a Maglite and a can of pepper spray from her belt. The dogs stopped in their tracks, listening. Then they moved forward, wagging their tails playfully. She sighed, That’s a good sign.

“Hello, is anyone there? Mosa? Hello?”

She hoped she was in the right place, that this was the “Shadow Cave”, the lair of the strange cat that had been picking off calves and young camels from the flocks of the wandering Toubou nomads.

There was only silence and shimmering heat. Secora rallied and stepped inside the cave entrance, playing the flashlight around and illuminating the small room. Large bones mixed with the cave dust, but they were not human; perhaps camels, and they were not recent remains. She called again, “Mosa? Anyone in here?” She listened intently for a response. Could she hear the water witcher’s faint voice? She shook her head and turned to leave for the third and final cave.

In the distance, a dust cloud drew her eyes. Squinting through a narrow sandstone arch, she thought she saw her husband, Gideon Yellow Thunder, and her grad student, Tarkio Cyr, along with their tracker, Anthony, in a jeep heading toward the base of the formations of twisted rock and sand. She imagined it would take them several minutes to race up to her position. 

What she did not expect was the humongous tiger materializing from behind spindly bushes, not ten feet directly in front of her. The cat was longer than the distance between them. She slowly replaced the Maglite on her belt. Its eyes were calculating her every move, waiting for Secora to flinch. That wasn’t going to happen. With no chance for escape, Secora stepped forward as she lifted the camera from around her neck. She was fascinated by this beast, a relative of the great saber-toothed cats of the past, but its shape was more like that of a cave hyena, taller in the shoulders, with a sloping back, shorter rear legs, and a stubby tail. Most notably, its canine teeth were flattened like knife blades, and only protruded a few inches beneath the lower jaw. They weren’t quite as long or round as the ones on Smilodon or a bull walrus skull. 

This animal was extremely large, and had short reddish-brown fur with vertical white stripes. She couldn’t see any black stripes like on a Bengal or Siberian tiger. Long fur surrounded its toes and padded the feet. She guessed it helped the animal to walk more easily across shifting sand, or to protect its toes from sharp rocks.

The phrase “scimitar-toothed cat” popped into her mind as she snapped several photos. The mechanical noise made by the automatic film advance caused the beast to blink, and the dogs, emboldened by that reaction and her advance, backed up Secora’s legs with low growls and exposed teeth. They snarled toward the beast in a stalking manner.

Such unanticipated results were more than the cat could take. It wheeled and sprang down from a pinnacle, disappearing about thirty feet below their position.

 “Secora, wait.” The guys had parked and were catching up fast. The dogs whirled to face them and yelped a sharp warning to Secora.

Gideon pleaded, “Weah Witco,” Crazy Woman, in Lakota. “What are you doing near that cave?”

“I think Mosa, our water witcher, is up here somewhere. I heard a voice that sounded like he was calling for help. I’m sure it was Mosa.” 

Anthony, the team tracker and translator, said, “Not likely, madam. Unless he is in the kingdom of the unseen. Only the voices of the dead are carried through these rocks by the caressing winds. You can hear them all around this area.” 

She sighed. “I can understand that, but Anthony, I’m sure it was Mosa. Do you know where these dogs came from? Surely they can’t live out here alone in this dry desert.”

Everyone became quiet. Eventually, Gideon gently asked, “Dogs? What dogs…?” 

Secora looked around with increasing concern, but when she saw no dogs, she immediately fainted. 

She roused back at camp, thinking she’d had an awful dream. “What happened?” she asked. Gideon, Tarkio, and Anthony anxiously surrounded her. Her husband responded gently, “You fainted, dear.”

“Where is the water witcher? Is Mosa okay?”

Anthony responded, “He must be around somewhere.”

Secora said plaintively, “No, I heard his voice calling for help. It was very faint at first, but clearer as I closed in on the second of the three caves you told us about. There was nothing inside the first one except for the tracks of small rodents and snakes. I heard a faint voice at the second cave entrance, but saw only a few dried cow and antelope bones. 

“When I turned around to get to the last cave, a mountain tiger stepped from behind some shrubs and would have attacked me if it wasn’t for those snarling dogs that were protecting my legs.”

“The animals must have been your imagination,” Anthony suggested.

Secora thought his smile looked a bit patronizing. “I’m not sure exactly how large this cat was, but I took pictures – even though I won’t be able to develop them until I am back in my lab. If it wasn’t just a spirit beast, there should be a clear image of an ancient tiger that looked about eleven feet long and stood as tall as my chest.”

“I believe there are tales of a legendary Ennedi Tiger. But it is a spirit beast. So don’t be too surprised if nothing shows in the photo but rocks.”

“Fine, but we still have to go back and check out that third cave.”

Anthony cautioned, “Not interested. Those caves belong to the spirit cat.”

Tarkio asked, “You mean, the cat you just told us was imaginary? Secora, what are these dogs you’re talking about?”

She didn’t feel like answering that question, as concern for Mosa was her priority. “Has anybody heard from Mosa since I left for the caves?” 

Tarkio said, “Not that I know, but maybe he left to go home since he had staked out all of the areas that were above subterranean aquifers.”

Gideon agreed, “That makes sense. I doubt anyone would stay here after their part was done. Even Raffique left for Afghanistan yesterday after he finished setting up the collectors at the wadi.”

“But,” Secora insisted, “Can anyone confirm that Mosa went home?”

Her persistent concern prompted a trek with the others to the third cave.

There, they found Mosa’s torn robes and bones mostly cleaned of flesh, among the vestiges of camels and calf heads. Remembering the large cat, Secora felt forlorn, realizing she couldn’t have saved his life even if she had made it to the third cave. 

Suddenly, she flashed on a memory of the crew eating breakfast at a restaurant. It was one of Mosa’s favorite occasions, rare, and to be savored. The image made her smile, a comforting contrast to the way she felt inside while looking at what was left of her friend’s mortal remains. Mosa? Are you trying to keep me from feeling morbid? 

She smiled. It would be just like you. Safe passage, my friend. Go with God.

On the way down the rocks, Anthony carried poor Mosa’s remains while explaining that although he’d always believed the Ennedi Tiger was a spirit beast, there were persistent legends of cave-dwelling cats, mountain tigers in the Tibesti and Ennedi mountains of Chad. “It was supposedly larger than a lion, perhaps twelve feet long, with short reddish-brown fur marked with vertical white stripes.” 

Secora responded, “Well, they are more than spirits if they’re stealing animals from the Toubou at the drinking wells, and attack people during the light of day.”

Because of Mosa’s death, work naturally came to a halt. It was too late in the day to take his remains to his family in Fada, so the crew sat to plan an impromptu funeral for this solemn man, an Islamic servant of God. 

Gideon called his friend and holy man, Jimmy Lizardeye, a Lakota Wichasha Wakan on the Satfon for his sacred contribution, while Anthony prepared to recite the Moslem funeral prayer, Salat al-Janazah. 

Secora carefully collected a few wildflowers. When they were ready, they arranged themselves around the deceased to begin the eulogy and prayers. Secora praised Mosa, their coworker and friend. Then Anthony stepped forward and began to chant the Moslem funeral prayer, Salat al-Janazah. 

“Bismillah, O God, forgive our living and our dead, those who are present among us and those who are absent, our young and our old, our males and our females. O God, whoever You keep alive, keep him alive in Islam, and whoever You cause to die, cause him to die with faith. O God, do not deprive us of the reward, and do not cause us to go astray after this. 

O God, forgive him and have mercy on him, keep him safe and sound and forgive him, honor his rest and ease his entrance; wash him with water, and snow, and hail, and cleanse him of sin as a white garment is cleansed of dirt. O God, give him a home better than his home and a family better than his family. O God, admit him to Paradise and protect him from the torment of the grave and the torment of Hell-fire; make his grave spacious and fill it with light.’ Asalamu ‘Alaykum Warahmatullah, may the peace and mercy of God be unto you.”

As Anthony finished, Tarkio offered, “La ilaha ila Allāh”. “There is no God but Allah”. 

Jimmy Lizardeye chanted a Lakota Prayer over speakerphone. 

“I offer the ‘Between Worlds’ prayer on behalf of my dearest friends. Hey-a-ho. First, I offer this pipe to Wakan Tanka, the Great Spirit who is One. Behold this sacred pipe. Behold us on this sacred earth. O Wakan Tanka, you are our Father and Grandfather. You are everything. You have always been. Grandfather, this sweetgrass is your herb; its fragrance belongs to you. Behold the good young man before you. He suffers between worlds now. I beg of you to cause him to move toward you, as is your will. Be merciful. Help him.”

“Our Grandmother and Mother, you are sacred. Every step upon you should be taken as a prayer. It is from you that our bodies come. Help this brave man. He wishes to be one with all things. He served the good of all your peoples, the four-leggeds, the two-leggeds, the green things, and the wings of the air. Help him.”

“I now beseech the four directions to help this man. First to you, O winged Power from where the sun goes down. Send your servants, ancient and sacred. The Thunder Beings who come to us in the terrifying storm. Send us your two sacred red-and-blue days. Help him.” He then sought help from the east and the north, beseeching aid for Mosa. Finally, Jimmy announced “Hetchetu aloh. It is finished.”

Secora began the Baha’i Prayer for the Departed…

“O, my God! O Thou forgiver of sins, bestower of gifts, dispeller of afflictions! Verily, I beseech Thee to forgive the sins of such as have abandoned the physical garment and have ascended to the spiritual world.

“O my Lord! Purify them from trespasses, dispel their sorrows, and change their darkness into light. Cause them to enter the garden of happiness, cleanse them with the most pure water, and grant them to behold Thy splendors on the loftiest mount.”

Gideon placed the delicate flowers on the makeshift coffin. The entire funeral was videotaped by Tarkio to be sent along with the remains, which would be escorted by Anthony to Mosa’s elderly relatives.

                                                  ********

After returning from the “water seeking” project during summer break, Secora groaned as she sat back at her office desk. With a coffee in hand rather than her usual tea, she called one of her grads, Bill Hoffmann, and asked him to stop by the office to develop a roll of film with images from the desert.

“Okay… see you in five.”

A few hours later, Bill popped back into the office bearing a handful of prints as if they were golden treasure. He handed them over as Secora set her files aside. She was shocked when the shots showed two snarling dogs stepping toward a scimitar cat – plain as day! 

Bill asked, “What’s all this about? Did you pick up a few pets while in Africa? Looks like a fang flashing orgy!”

Scora smiled and then calmly sipped her tea. . .

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The Rising Wind novel series by award-winning author Diane Olsen is a multicultural action-adventure mystery series that explores themes of anthropology, spirituality, and Native American lore. The series, which includes titles such as The Thunder Beings (Book 1) and Ice and Bone (Book 2), follows protagonists such as paleontologist Secora and Gideon on thrilling, globe-trotting adventures.