{"id":25166,"date":"2022-10-13T00:01:00","date_gmt":"2022-10-13T05:01:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.asliceoforange.net\/?p=25166"},"modified":"2022-10-12T17:58:18","modified_gmt":"2022-10-12T22:58:18","slug":"the-legend-of-the-four-winds-butte-by-dt-krippene","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.asliceoforange.net\/the-legend-of-the-four-winds-butte-by-dt-krippene\/","title":{"rendered":"The Legend of the Four Winds Butte by DT Krippene"},"content":{"rendered":"\n<figure class=\"wp-block-image size-full\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" width=\"1024\" height=\"512\" src=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.asliceoforange.net\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/10\/Butte-part-one.jpg?resize=1024%2C512&#038;ssl=1\" alt=\"\" class=\"wp-image-25175\" srcset=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.asliceoforange.net\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/10\/Butte-part-one.jpg?w=1024&amp;ssl=1 1024w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.asliceoforange.net\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/10\/Butte-part-one.jpg?resize=300%2C150&amp;ssl=1 300w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.asliceoforange.net\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/10\/Butte-part-one.jpg?resize=768%2C384&amp;ssl=1 768w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.asliceoforange.net\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/10\/Butte-part-one.jpg?resize=800%2C400&amp;ssl=1 800w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.asliceoforange.net\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/10\/Butte-part-one.jpg?resize=571%2C286&amp;ssl=1 571w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.asliceoforange.net\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/10\/Butte-part-one.jpg?resize=371%2C186&amp;ssl=1 371w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.asliceoforange.net\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/10\/Butte-part-one.jpg?resize=271%2C136&amp;ssl=1 271w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 1024px) 100vw, 1024px\" data-recalc-dims=\"1\" \/><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<p><u><em><strong>The year 1905<\/strong><\/em><\/u><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Sam Buchanan and Jack Smalley tied their mules to a bush at the base of a tall butte.&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>&#8220;Hey, Sammy,&#8221; Jack asked out of breath. \u201cCan I bum some of your tobacco?\u201d&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Sam finished wiping his brow in the high elevation sun and tossed him a palm-sized leather pouch. \u201cAll I got. Nearest provision is several days&#8217; ride from here.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Jack rolled a cigarette the length of his pinky finger and went into a coughing fit after the first drag. He took in the valley floor thousands of feet below. \u201cWhy are we here again?\u201d&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Sam looked upward. \u201cHeard from an old Indian the top of this rock is a holy place. Sometimes the natives leave offerings. Precious stones. Maybe some gold too. We could use it for a new grub stake.\u201d&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cDamned thing must be two-hundred feet or more straight up. I ain&#8217;t no mountaineer.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Sam walked several yards along the base and stopped at a clump of scrub bushes. He pushed aside dry thorny branches to find footholds leading upward. \u201cJust like he said. Come on. Day is wasting.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Jack took a final drag and tossed the cigarette butt to the wind. \u201cBetter be worth it.\u201d&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>The butte sloped inward, which made it like climbing a ladder. They pulled themselves onto a flat, pebble-strewn peak about six yards in diameter. Jutting in the center was a circular, chest-high stone monument etched with Indian symbols wrapped around its circumference. A bed of loose stones buried the lower quarter.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>They both inhaled lungs full of air in disappointment to find nothing else. Jack spit off the rim. \u201cLooks like that ole injun spun a tall tale.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Sam ambled toward the petroglyphs for a closer look. He crouched to brush aside stones banked along its base. \u201cNothin.\u201d He staggered to his feet and kicked the stone monument.&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>The wind suddenly shifted and blew from the south. In the span of several heartbeats, it shifted again, this time from the east, then from the north a few moments later. It changed again and gusted from the west. A ghostly whisper of many voices chanted in a native language.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cWhat in tarnation?\u201d Sam spun about in search of its source.&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Jack scrambled over the edge. \u201cI\u2019m gettin outta here.\u201d With his boots on the top two footholds, he froze when the sky darkened. The winds gusted in a circle, drawing dust and pebbles in a cyclonic spin. Sam\u2019s body went rigid.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>A dust devil whirlwind formed above the monument. \u201cSam. Get away from that stone,\u201d Jack shouted. The vortex twisted skyward.&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Terrified and partially blinded by grit, Jack clambered down, frantically feeling for footholds. He almost made it but lost his footing and tumbled down the angled wall.\u00a0<\/p>\n\n\n\n<div class=\"wp-block-stackable-spacer stk-block-spacer stk--no-padding stk-block stk-20473af\" data-block-id=\"20473af\"><style>.stk-20473af{height:25px !important}<\/style><\/div>\n\n\n\n<p><strong><u><em>The year 2015<\/em><\/u><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>&nbsp;Mary Aguilera propped her backpack against a rock at the base of Four Winds Butte. Butterflies tickled inside her tummy when she studied a posted warning with bold red letters in all caps. \u201cDangerous area susceptible to sudden high winds.\u201d A smaller sign beside it bore the Bureau of Land Management symbol. \u201cNo Trespassing. Protected Native American Heritage Site. Permit required to access from the Western Shoshone Tribal Council.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>She sat on a boulder to catch her breath. Though born and raised in Denver, living four years at sea level to get her psychology degree from UCLA killed her elevation tolerance at eight-thousand feet, with another couple hundred to reach the top.&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cWhere are you?\u201d she muttered, impatient that her guide hadn\u2019t shown up yet. With nothing else to do but wait, she let her mind drift to her master\u2019s thesis progress at the University of Nevada Las Vegas.&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>***<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Mary, fascinated by paranormal legends, found Nevada was considered second or third of the most haunted states in the country fostered by the plethora of ghost towns. Most of its reputation centered on the many deserted mining sites, abandoned graveyards, and hotels dating to the early twentieth-century gold rush.&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>The popular haunting histories had been written about Ad Infinitum. But mysteries behind the paranormal legends of local Native Americans were passed down by word of mouth and remained elusive through the generations. Mary decided to direct her research to a unique, little-known subject by exploring the origins of such tales and how the stories changed over time. To do that, she\u2019d need some advice from her graduate school mentor, Professor Peter Wilkins.&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cYou might consider western Native American petroglyphs,\u201d Wilkins said.&nbsp;&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cCave man drawings?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cNot caves,\u201d Professor Wilkins chuckled. \u201cDrawn figures or etchings on cliffs or stone ledges.\u201d&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cBut still. Aren\u2019t petroglyphs basically primitive rock art. Stick figure animals and such? Where\u2019s the paranormal connection?\u201d&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cSome are quite old, a few dating back thousands of years and believed to be a direct conduit to the spirits.\u201d&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Mary took the next few days to research it. Most petroglyphs proved her doubts that most were simple pictographs and already well documented. About to give up and reconsider a new thesis subject, her eye caught an obscure footnote referencing a little-known petroglyph monument Native Americans called Four Winds Butte, located in the remote uninhabited ranges of East-Central Nevada.&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Its discovery began with a 1905 prospector who wandered into a mining camp after days of hiking with a bloody cloth wrapped around his head. He collapsed on the ground and began ranting of a native curse that killed his partner before dying on the spot from his injuries. No one paid much heed to it until the early sixties, when a naturist hippie couple stumbled onto the site and disappeared. The only evidence left behind was backpacks and camping gear scattered in a chasm thousands of feet below the ridge.&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>The BLM declared the site off-limits after the local tribal council took umbrage of any non-natives trespassing on a sacred place. Still, it didn\u2019t stop the occasional curious hiker from climbing to see the petroglyphs, only to vanish like the others. The last interloper to disappear was over a decade ago. Including the prospector from over a century ago, fifteen people disappeared in total.&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p><em>Bingo.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Professor Wilkins hemmed and hawed when she mentioned Four Winds Butte. \u201cI\u2019ve heard of the monument. Given the history of disappearances, approval to visit the butte requires a permit from the BLM and the tribal council whose land it\u2019s located.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cSo, it\u2019s possible to get approval?\u201d&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Wilkins sighed. \u201cI doubt you\u2019ll get it. But I know how dogged you are when you set your mind to it.\u201d He flipped through a personal address book, then penned a name and phone number on a sheet of paper. \u201cThis a retired BLM agent I got to know years ago. He also happens to be a member of the Newe Western Shoshone.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Mary gushed with excitement. \u201cHe\u2019ll help me get access?\u201d&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cI wouldn\u2019t count on it. But he\u2019s been to the site several times and will be the best source of information.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Mary arrived a couple weeks later at John \u2018Redfeather\u2019 Monroe\u2019s office in a brown paint-peeling double-wide where he volunteered on the edge of a wilderness area. She wrinkled her nose at the pervasive presence of desert dust and metallic taste of Monroe\u2019s rusting file cabinets.&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Monroe scratched an ear and set aside Professor Wilkins recommendation. \u201cPete must either be jerking your chain or thinks you\u2019re something special.\u201d&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cI\u2019m hoping the latter.\u201d Mary recited her notes to verify accuracy. \u201cAccording to archived data you provided the BLM, the monument is estimated to be at least three thousand years old, but the patterned lines and shapes are more complex than simple pictographs. Do you think it\u2019s a language of some kind?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cThere isn\u2019t anything in the form of a native&nbsp;<em>written&nbsp;<\/em>language, especially that far back in time.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cWhat can you tell me about the origins of the curse?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>&nbsp;He scratched the stubble on his chin. \u201cI was a lad when my grandmother told me a story of powerful wind spirits who resided inside the butte and took offense of anyone who defiled the land.\u201d&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cLike those who disappeared.\u201d&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cOur elders assume most who are \u2018not of the people\u2019 to be disrespectful of the land.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p><em>Ouch.&nbsp;<\/em>\u201cDid your grandmother say anything about who created these complex petroglyphs? A particular time or inciting event that led to a spiritual presence?\u201d&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Monroe smiled. \u201cNow therein lies a fundamental difference of interpretation. To you, a spiritual presence is believed grounded by historical events. To us, the land fosters the spirits, not a specific incident.\u201d&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cWas there any legend passed down of others who disappeared before the prospector in 1905?\u201d&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cPossibly, but I think if so, the stories would certainly survive through the generations as a warning to the peoples. It\u2019s only speculation, but we think the prospector was the first non-native to enact the curse. All the subsequent disappearances left no smoking gun as to what they saw. We can only assume they suffered a similar fate.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p><em>Non-natives.&nbsp;<\/em>\u201cI\u2019ve read varying hypothesis of what became of them, the more popular one being their bodies torn apart and scattered to the four winds.\u201d&nbsp;&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Monroe pursed his lips in thought a moment. \u201cThat may be true. Any bodily remains would likely disappear beneath desert sand, if not eaten by wildlife first, leaving only nondegradable items as evidence.\u201d&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p><em>Gross.&nbsp;<\/em>Mary scribbled in her notebook. \u201cYou mentioned non-natives, or those \u2018not of the people.\u2019 Dr. Wilkins said you and others of the local tribes have been on the butte a few times.&nbsp;&nbsp;Have any your people touched the monument?\u201d&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cShamans were known for many generations to climb there and honor the wind spirits. Not so much anymore. I doubt anyone has been up there in recent years.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cMost of what we know of the site is based on your accounts.\u201d Mary tapped the tip of her pen on her lip. \u201cHave you\u2014placed your hands on the monument?\u201d&nbsp;&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cAs part of my work with the BLM, I volunteered to take pictures and sketch the symbols. But I never touched the monument itself.\u201d He chuckled with a wink. \u201cI\u2019m only part Shoshoni. European blood has diluted my heritage, so I didn\u2019t care to test the theory.\u201d&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cBut you believe the curse is real.\u201d&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cMost of what I know came from my maternal grandmother, passed down through the generations. Embellishments tend to taint a story over time, but the evidence strongly suggests that something haunts the butte.\u201d&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cAnything else you can share?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>He scratched his chin in thought. \u201cWell, it\u2019s not common knowledge, but when my grandmother spoke of the curse, the legend claimed a new petroglyph etching would appear on the stone monument representing a soul taken by the wind spirits.\u201d&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p><em>That\u2019s new information.&nbsp;<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Monroe opened a drawer, extracted a moth-eaten folder, and spread photographs of the monument on his desk. \u201cWhen I compare archived photos against pictures I took when I went there, I didn\u2019t see any additional etchings.\u201d&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Like the archived photos she\u2019d studied earlier, these were somewhat blurry, as if slightly out of focus. \u201cThese the best pictures you have?\u201d&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cUnfortunately, yes. After the last person disappeared, the BLM had a couple of scientists scan the butte for anything unusual. They weren\u2019t permitted beyond the base for safety reasons, but they registered a strong electromagnetic field emanating from the peak above, which may have affected the quality of the negatives.\u201d&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p><em>A factor straight out of an episode of The Twilight Zone.&nbsp;<\/em>\u201cAs part of my research, would it be possible to visit the site to get a first-hand impression? See if new digital photos are affected?\u201d&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>\u201cYou need a permit from both the Shoshone tribal council and BLM. You\u2019ll have to hire a qualified native guide to supervise, and they won\u2019t let you climb to the monument itself.\u201d&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>That wasn\u2019t going to yield much of a perspective. Unless \u2013 \u201cYou wouldn\u2019t happen to be qualified, would you?\u201d&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Monroe palm washed his face and chuckled. \u201cPete warned me you\u2019d probably ask that.\u201d He stared in thought out the only window opaqued by crusted dust. \u201cDamn you, Pete. You owe me for this,\u201d he mumbled. He extended his hand. \u201cNext week Tuesday, pending permit approval. Meet me at the base of the\u00a0butte\u00a0.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n<h3 class=\"wp-block-heading\"><em>To be continued on October 31st. <\/em><\/h3>\n\n\n\n<hr class=\"wp-block-separator has-alpha-channel-opacity is-style-default\"\/>\n\n\n\n<div class=\"wp-block-stackable-spacer stk-block-spacer stk--no-padding stk-block stk-3d20fe6\" data-block-id=\"3d20fe6\"><style>.stk-3d20fe6{height:22px !important}<\/style><\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>The year 1905<\/p>\n<p>Sam Buchanan and Jack Smalley tied their mules to a bush at the base of a tall butte.<br \/>\n&#8220;Hey, Sammy,&#8221; Jack asked out of breath. \u201cCan I bum some of your tobacco?\u201d <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":489,"featured_media":25175,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[1568],"tags":[2521,2150,3772,3773,586],"featured_image_urls":{"full":["https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.asliceoforange.net\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/10\/Butte-part-one.jpg?fit=1024%2C512&ssl=1",1024,512,false],"thumbnail":["https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.asliceoforange.net\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/10\/Butte-part-one.jpg?resize=70%2C70&ssl=1",70,70,true],"medium":["https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.asliceoforange.net\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/10\/Butte-part-one.jpg?fit=300%2C150&ssl=1",300,150,true],"medium_large":["https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.asliceoforange.net\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/10\/Butte-part-one.jpg?fit=768%2C384&ssl=1",768,384,true],"large":["https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.asliceoforange.net\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/10\/Butte-part-one.jpg?fit=1024%2C512&ssl=1",1024,512,true],"1536x1536":["https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.asliceoforange.net\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/10\/Butte-part-one.jpg?fit=1024%2C512&ssl=1",1024,512,true],"2048x2048":["https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.asliceoforange.net\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/10\/Butte-part-one.jpg?fit=1024%2C512&ssl=1",1024,512,true],"mbt_book_image":["https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.asliceoforange.net\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/10\/Butte-part-one.jpg?fit=800%2C400&ssl=1",800,400,true],"mbt_endorsement_image":["https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.asliceoforange.net\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/10\/Butte-part-one.jpg?fit=800%2C400&ssl=1",800,400,true],"theme-large":["https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.asliceoforange.net\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/10\/Butte-part-one.jpg?fit=1024%2C512&ssl=1",1024,512,true],"theme-half":["https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.asliceoforange.net\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/10\/Butte-part-one.jpg?fit=571%2C286&ssl=1",571,286,true],"theme-third":["https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.asliceoforange.net\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/10\/Butte-part-one.jpg?fit=371%2C186&ssl=1",371,186,true],"theme-fourth":["https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.asliceoforange.net\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/10\/Butte-part-one.jpg?fit=271%2C136&ssl=1",271,136,true],"theme-thumbnail":["https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.asliceoforange.net\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/10\/Butte-part-one.jpg?resize=200%2C200&ssl=1",200,200,true]},"post_excerpt_stackable":"<p>The year 1905<\/p>\n<p>Sam Buchanan and Jack Smalley tied their mules to a bush at the base of a tall butte.<br \/>\n&#8220;Hey, Sammy,&#8221; Jack asked out of breath. \u201cCan I bum some of your tobacco?\u201d <\/p>\n","category_list":"<a href=\"https:\/\/www.asliceoforange.net\/category\/columns\/from-a-cabin-in-the-woods\/\" rel=\"category tag\">From a Cabin in the Woods by Members of Bethlehem Writers Group<\/a>","author_info":{"name":"Bethlehem Writers Group","url":"https:\/\/www.asliceoforange.net\/author\/bethlehem-writers-group\/"},"comments_num":"0 comments","featured_image_urls_v2":{"full":["https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.asliceoforange.net\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/10\/Butte-part-one.jpg?fit=1024%2C512&ssl=1",1024,512,false],"thumbnail":["https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.asliceoforange.net\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/10\/Butte-part-one.jpg?resize=70%2C70&ssl=1",70,70,true],"medium":["https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.asliceoforange.net\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/10\/Butte-part-one.jpg?fit=300%2C150&ssl=1",300,150,true],"medium_large":["https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.asliceoforange.net\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/10\/Butte-part-one.jpg?fit=768%2C384&ssl=1",768,384,true],"large":["https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.asliceoforange.net\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/10\/Butte-part-one.jpg?fit=1024%2C512&ssl=1",1024,512,true],"1536x1536":["https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.asliceoforange.net\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/10\/Butte-part-one.jpg?fit=1024%2C512&ssl=1",1024,512,true],"2048x2048":["https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.asliceoforange.net\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/10\/Butte-part-one.jpg?fit=1024%2C512&ssl=1",1024,512,true],"mbt_book_image":["https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.asliceoforange.net\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/10\/Butte-part-one.jpg?fit=800%2C400&ssl=1",800,400,true],"mbt_endorsement_image":["https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.asliceoforange.net\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/10\/Butte-part-one.jpg?fit=800%2C400&ssl=1",800,400,true],"theme-large":["https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.asliceoforange.net\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/10\/Butte-part-one.jpg?fit=1024%2C512&ssl=1",1024,512,true],"theme-half":["https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.asliceoforange.net\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/10\/Butte-part-one.jpg?fit=571%2C286&ssl=1",571,286,true],"theme-third":["https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.asliceoforange.net\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/10\/Butte-part-one.jpg?fit=371%2C186&ssl=1",371,186,true],"theme-fourth":["https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.asliceoforange.net\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/10\/Butte-part-one.jpg?fit=271%2C136&ssl=1",271,136,true],"theme-thumbnail":["https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.asliceoforange.net\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/10\/Butte-part-one.jpg?resize=200%2C200&ssl=1",200,200,true]},"post_excerpt_stackable_v2":"<p>The year 1905<\/p>\n<p>Sam Buchanan and Jack Smalley tied their mules to a bush at the base of a tall butte.<br \/>\n&#8220;Hey, Sammy,&#8221; Jack asked out of breath. \u201cCan I bum some of your tobacco?\u201d <\/p>\n","category_list_v2":"<a href=\"https:\/\/www.asliceoforange.net\/category\/columns\/from-a-cabin-in-the-woods\/\" rel=\"category tag\">From a Cabin in the Woods by Members of Bethlehem Writers Group<\/a>","author_info_v2":{"name":"Bethlehem Writers Group","url":"https:\/\/www.asliceoforange.net\/author\/bethlehem-writers-group\/"},"comments_num_v2":"0 comments","yoast_head":"<!-- This site is optimized with the Yoast SEO Premium plugin v22.6 (Yoast SEO v22.6) - https:\/\/yoast.com\/wordpress\/plugins\/seo\/ -->\n<title>The Legend of the Four Winds Butte by DT Krippene<\/title>\n<meta name=\"description\" content=\"The year 1905 Sam Buchanan and Jack Smalley tied their mules to a bush at the base of a tall butte. &quot;Hey, Sammy,&quot; Jack asked out of breath. \u201cCan I 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