The Mojave Heathen, Robert F. Clifton [beginner reading books for adults .TXT] 📗

where she had been scraping, using a trowel. When she did the others in the work group looked towards Ben. Edith got up and slowly walked the ten or twenty yards to where Ben stood.

“Did you find something?” she asked

“Yes. Not what I’m looking for, but I found something.

Notice the smell?”, he asked.

“Goodness yes. What is it?”

“That’s the smell Hopkins wrote about. The smell of spent, gunpowder.”

“Ben you found Hopkins diggings,” said Edith excitedly .

“Yes. Now let’s hope that what he found and reburied is still there,” Ben replied.

Bingham walked up to where the couple stood. “You two look like it’s Christmas morning. What did you find?”, he asked.

“Nothing really, just a sign that we are at the right place,”

answered Ben.

“What’s that smell?, asked George.

“We don’t know exactly. We might have to send a sample of the soil I found here and have it analyzed. It’s possible that there’ s something organic creating the odor,” Ben responded.

“Did you find anything else?,” asked Bingham.

“No, not yet,”Ben answered.

“But, if you did, I’m sure you would tell me.”

“What’s wrong with you George, asking a question like that?, asked Edith.

“You two think I’m stupid. you’ve put your heads together with all of you scientific knowledge and plan to steal all the quality artifacts while taking credit for the success of everything you find. You intend to leave me out. Me the guy that’s paying for everything.”

“Let me tell you something Bingham. It doesn’t take too much knowledge to realize that you’re ether crazy, or full of shit!

Personally, I think you’re both,” said Ben moving towards George in anger.

“Stop it ! Both of you!” said Edith loudly as the students now stood watching the exchange between Ben and George.

“Let’s take a break. We’ll go back to the hotel, and get ready for lunch. At the same time you two can calm down,” suggested Edith.

“You two go. I want to talk to my security head,” said George.

Later that afternoon, Edith and Ben sat at a table in the hotel dining room. They waited for George to join them, but after waiting about thirty minutes decided to order and dine without him. After she took a sip of water, Edith said, “So dear, how close are you?”

Ben smiled. “Edith, now that I know I’m at the right spot I can almost feel that any turn of the shovel will reveal to me what old, Chester Hopkins found.”

“I’m so happy for you Ben.”

“Thank you. But I haven’t found it yet.”

“No, but you will. Imagine what it will be like in the field of anthropology if you find the remains of an Anasazi in of all places, Death Valley. No one knows where they went, but you dear, can now show evidence of at least one member of that lost culture made its way to what is now, California,” said Edith.

“We. It’s what we found. You and I together. Anything, any fame or fortune that I could ever receive I would owe to you. So

if there are any rewards in the future. let’s take them together,”

said Ben.

Edith smiled and reached across the table and took Ben’s hand. “Thank you,” she said.

While Edith and Ben dined, George Bingham spoke to the foreman of the security group assigned at the site. “I’ll be over there working near that rock pile. If you see anyone other than your men coming in here let me know right away,” he said.

“Yes sir, Mr. Bingham.”

Bingham walked over to the place where he saw Ben Cortland work that day. He began to dig. Thirty minutes later he saw something glow. With a smile on his face he reached into the crumbled stone and soil and retrieved a small piece of metal. Holding it in one hand he brought it closer to the daylight.

Bingham judged the object which was silver in color, rectangular and to be about three inches long. “I don’t know what the hell this is. It’s as light as a feather. Silver color, but not silver and it shines, giving off a strange pulsating, glow. One damn things for sure, I’m keeping it. No souvenirs my ass,”he thought to himself.

The next morning the research team arrived at the university dig. While the male students removed the heavy, canvas, tarpaulin from what was thought to be Chester Hopkins camp site, Ben made his way to his place of interest. He removed the protective covering he had placed last night. He took a step backwards and said, “son of a bitch!”

“What’s wrong?”, asked Edith

“Someone has been in here. This site has been disturbed.

Was it you George?”, he shouted.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Bingham answered.

“Where were you yesterday at lunch time? Edith and I waited for you, but you never arrived and I know why. You were out here nosing around. What did you find? What did you take?”

“You’re crazy Cortland. Yes, I was here, but I was here checking on the security. Security that I’m paying for by the way.”

“A very good excuse. I know it was you. don’t you realize that by tampering with my excavations you could disturb a very important scientific find? Not only that, but if you took something from this place you are jeopardizing our entire project. The Park Service could close us down immediately.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said George.

“Touch this site one more time and I’ll kick your ass all the way back to Palo Alto!”, shouted Ben.

“You’re crazy. Now, you threaten me in front of witnesses.

If I were you I’d get to work and continue to chase that ghost you’ve been looking for your entire, pitiful career. Anasazi?

No one, even those much more qualified then you believe you are can not explain what happened to them or where they went. But, you keep looking Cortland. Your work keeps you out of the way of expert anthropologists,” said Bingham as he bent down and began to work.

Still angry Ben picked up a shovel and began digging.

Two hours later he stood and watched light brown gravel flow down from the top of the excavation. When the flow stopped Cortland gazed upon a hand. Ben held his breath. He wanted to shout that he had found what he had been looking for, but he didn’t. What he saw before him was a hand. The skin on the hand was a dark green. Instead of pores there were scales. Using his fingers Cortland continued to remove soil, stones and gravel.

Each removal exposed more and more of the hand, arm, shoulder and finally the head. Gently removing the material from a face Cortland gazed upon something he had never seen before. Chills went up and down his spine. Before him was either a freak of nature or a earth shattering, scientific find.

The head on the body was large and elongated. The ears were small. The nose was shaped like a beak and the eyes, although large, slanted and appeared to be mummified like the rest of the body. Cortland stood in wonder. “What is it? Is this what Hopkins saw a hundred and sixty seven years ago? Now what? To announce this find before determining just what this is will bring news media pouring into the park creating chaos. They will also interrupt the rest of the expedition. The thing to do is cover it again and talk to Edith,” he thought to himself. He picked up the shovel again and began to gently spread soil, covering the body.

During the a break, Ben motioned for Edith to join him. When she stood in front of him Ben, in a low voice said

“Take a walk with me.”

Out of hearing range from the rest of the crew Cortland said, “Edith, I found what Hopkins called a heathen.”

“Oh, how wonderful, but why aren’t you telling the others?”

“Because what I found is not human.”

“What do you mean?”

“What I found has a scaled skin. Three fingers on it’s hands instead of five. Large eyes in an elongated head, small ears and a beak like nose.”

“Oh my. What do you think it is?”, asked Edith.

“I’m sure that you are familiar with the theory put forward in 1982 by Dale A. Russel about the possibility of an evolutionary path for the creation of, Troodon,” said Ben.

“Certainly, but I don’t believe it.’

“Believe it. it’s real.”

“Impossible.”

“Later tonight I’ll show you. First you have to get rid of

Bingham and his security team.”

“And, just how am I supposed to do that?”

“You are the project manager. You can hire and fire. How many times can you allow him to interfere in our research and at the same time know that he is placing the entire project in jeopardy by taking artifacts for his private collection?”

“I see. Alright, I’ll do it. Anything else?”

“Yes. Can you contact Doctor William Ross and ask him to come out here? We might need him to answer many questions.”

“Doctor Ross is a physicist. Why do you need him?” asked

Edith.

“ Right now I think this thing I found is a extraterrestrial alien. If it is I want to know why was it here in 1849?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Six

Doctor Ross

 

Doctor William Ross sat with Ben and Edith on the porch of the Ranch Hotel. How are your accommodations?”, asked Edith.

“Fine. To tell you the truth I’m going to take the opportunity of being here as an excuse to use it for a mini vacation. The swimming pool is very inviting. Now, from what you have told me, what makes you believe that you have found an extraterrestrial alien?”,” Ross answered.

“Are you familiar with Dale A. Russell, geologist and palaeontologist?”, asked Ben.

“No, that’s not my field.”

“No matter. In 1982 Doctor Russell conjectured a possible

evolutionary path for Troodon, a Dinosauroid if you will, if it had not perished in the Cretaceous -Paleogene extinction event sixty five million years Ago. He suggested that this type of dinosaur could have evolved into intelligent beings similar in body plan to humans,” said Ben.

“Let me stop you right here. To my knowledge no one has discovered the intelligent being that your doctor Russell mentions,” said Ross.

“Not until now. Allow me to continue. Russell found and noted that there had been a steady increase in the brain size of a certain dinosaur. It was he that had discovered the skull of the Troondonid and realized that the brain size was much lower than humans, but it was larger than dinosaurs. To him it was a sign that if evolution had continued the Troon’s brain would be comparable to a human,” advised Ben.

“So, what makes you think this creature you found came from outer space?” asked Ross.

“A few things. First, the prospector, Chester Hopkins wrote that he was woke with the flash of lightning that lasted a long time followed by a loud clap of thunder. I viewed this first as a meteor entering the atmosphere burning up and creating a sonic boom. Now, after my discovery, I’ve come to the conclusion that what occurred on that night in 1849 was a space craft burning in our atmosphere and breaking the sound barrier,” said Ben.

“So you believe it was an UFO?,” asked Ross.

“Yes.”

“Then why do you need me? You have already stated that you have come to a conclusion,” said Ross.

“I need to know why of all places on earth was the Mojave Desert selected for alien exploration and a landing?”

“When Edith called me on the telephone she told me what Doctor Bennington had reasoned about zinc sulphide being a source of material that glowed when exposed to a light source.”

“ He also stated that zinc sulphide is used in scintillators used to detect radiation,” said Edith.

“Yes, I know. Your question is, if indeed this is an alien space traveler, why did he select the Mojave Desert as place to visit or land? The answer is borax,” answered Ross.

“Borax? A cleaning product?”, asked Ben.

“It’s also a neutron absorber used in nuclear reactors and spent fuel pools to control reactivity and to shut down a nuclear chair reaction,” said Ross.

“In 1849?,” asked Edith.

“If what you two have discovered is