KINFOLK AT A DESERTED CABIN

                                                               

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                     

                                         A DESERTED CABIN

          My name is U.S. Grant. I’m a banana squash. I’d like to tell you a true story as near as I can remember. When I first began to understand crow language correctly a few years back, there was an incident across the street in a log cabin. The log cabin is settled on the rise in the big bend above the Weber River in Ogden. The log cabin has been empty ever since the owner closed the curtains, and shut the door, about thirty years I would judge. He left for a job interview. I spec the job was his as he didn’t come back since. The cabin has a plank roof, with nothing between the plank roof and the floor. Just one room no more. In the meantime big red Army Ants took over the cabin inside and out.  A handy tip to remember is if the army ants see you, best tuck in your pant legs, and run, because they will immediately start head streaming straight for you. Trouble is afoot on many, many feet. inside and out 24 hours a day. Within seconds after anything steps into the room a raiding column of female ant’s forms and the attack begins. Trailing behind the female ants are the male inceptions. Clearly this is not going to have a happy ending. Army ants are predatory ants, fast, numerous. They live a purpose driven life. The purpose is killing. On any given day sure enough, within a few minutes hundreds of termites bite the dust. Next up on the ants list is anything soybeans, aphids, chiggers, ticks.  Protection against these ants is absolutely necessary or you end up as a color plate in the textbook of dermatology. A swarm of the Red Army ants boiling out across the floor and underneath the floor in the Nazis style goose-step march is something to see.  Next on their rampage could be a TOMATO THORN WORM a large green caterpillar that if it hadn’t been eaten from the inside out, would have grown up to be a Carolina Sphinx Moth. 

        Inside the dour cabin, there are often found Spotted Ant birds staring at the dirt floor.  They come and go through a knot-hole in the ceiling. Look and hear the characteristic flitting and popping of the thrush-size ant bird. Listen for its vibrato peeee-ti peewee, because whenever there are big red army ants out on hunting raids, puckish the spotted ant birds are sure to follow. They have camera eyes, for spotting insects left behind by rushing army ants. Eating the left overs thus making orphans of youngsters thereafter never seen in church.  Ant birds skim off a good percentage of the ant’s labor snatching up grasshoppers, beetles, and others with their long beaks. It’s the reversal of the commonly held notion of parasites being little tacky things that plague large poorly dressed hosts. Here the bigger vertebrates are being killed off by insects a fraction of their size.  And the parasitic strategy is so irresistible that according to research in the Bug Journal the Spotted Ant Bird antics, traditionally opted for a mixed approach, filching from ant swarms and finding food on its own, but it is increasingly dependent on army ants to scare up its every meal.

         Outside the cabin life in the gutter thrives in less than pristine water, for example the Hornworm, which is exactly what it looks like. Near the entry way of the cabin a horrifying number of parasitic wasp larvae, tiny translucent, wormy things can be seen if you look closely, tunneling through the skin of their hosts. Man, this is really a weird gig; weirder still is the fact that the gig isn’t even a live action movie but rather animal reality. No music is necessary for all of this to ruin your lunch. but the cheery Latin Brass and Drums Rancheros music does somewhat enhance the pageantry of the parasitic infestation.

        If you stumbled upon this cabin site by mistake, of course, the availability of an exterminator might be comforting. The Ace Exterminator Company does promise same day service. You might also hire the exterminator to take out the Armadillos. Armadillos transmit the pathogen Mycobacterium leprous

       From the beginning the cabin has had quirks, like an outhouse, a three-setter with a mini hole for a child. Another quirk the former owner told me about is a knot hole in the center of the cabin roof where you can dangle a hand down in and scare the heck out of guests. One fine Sunday day morning I was out sun’ in my yard with, with my cat Cry Baby. I named her after my first wife. I like cats, love cats but I hate dogs big or little, especially little yippee yuppie dogs.

      I was taken’ in the sun, looking at the beautiful orange colored Wasatch Mountains, listening to the quakes rustling leaves, and watching a few blue hazy clouds hanging above the mountains. I was thinking of my childhood home yonder in Denver, when suddenly a crow came flying out of the blue. He lit on the roof of the abandoned house and hollers to me,

      "Hello, my name’s Doug. I reckon I've struck something."           

      As he spoke, a walnut dropped out of his mouth and rolled down the roof, but he didn't seem to care, his eyes were glued on the knot-hole in the middle of the roof. Soon He cocked his head to one side, shut one eye and put the other to the hole, looking like a cross-eyed raccoon peeking down a chimney. Then he glanced up with bright eyes, gave a wink or two and fluttered his wings which mean satisfaction in crow language. Then he says,

       "It looks like a knot-hole, it lies like a knot- it must be a knot hole."

      Then he cocked his head down and took another peek, and then he glances up, perfectly joyful. He walks around the knot-hole three times to the left one eye on the hole, then flapped his wings, glided down to the ground picked up the walnut hurried back dropped the walnut in. All of a sudden he was paralyzed into a listening countenance, and the queerest look of surprise took his face.

      "Why, I didn't hear that walnut hit the floor."

       He cocked his eye again at the hole and took another look, while scratching the back of his head with his right foot. Then he says,    

      "Well, it's too much for me, that's for sure, must be a might long way down. However I haven't got time to waste, I'll go fetch another walnut so as to see what's what."

       Again he dropped a walnut in and tried to flirt his eye to the hole quick enough to see what become of it, but once more he was too late. He held his eye there as much as five minutes, then raised up and sighted at the sky again, and says,

          "Darn, I don't seem to understand this thing no how, but, I'll try her again. “ He fetched another walnut, and did his level best to see what become of it, but he couldn't.

     "Well I never seen a hole like this one, must be a new kind." About this time his feelings began to get the best of him, and he broke loose cussing and stomp ‘in about on the rim of the roof. When he finally settles down and near had control of himself, he walks up to the hole and peers in again for a minute or two.

      “Why, I know how to take care of this little problem. You're a long hole, a deep hole, a singular hole all together. I've started in to fill yu and I'll be dammed if I don’t fill yu if it takes a hundred years."

      With that said, away he went for more walnuts. You never seen a bird work like that. He laid into it like an illegal Mexican with a family to support back home. He throwed walnuts in that hole for four whole hours or more never even stopped for lunch or took a break. He'd just hove'em in and go for more. At last, he was all tuckered out. He, slid off the roof on his back, falling to the ground, sweating like a sun-burnt midget in the out-back.

           To top it off he was sitting on a medusa head. It is a spiky, grass like plant inedible for livestock and wildlife. it’s all over the place and causing big problems, getting terrible. Bad as army ants. Crowding out native grasses and grazing land. Its seeds can stay on the ground for years poising a wildfire risk, a losing battle all over the West. Doug was still sitting on the thorny medusa head pad with barely enough strength to lean back against the log cabin. Then he mumbles,

      "I'm going to need some help."

      Just then another crow was gliding by, Stan Jacobson. He noticed Doug lying there half conscious. Stan hurried a landing and asked if he needed a doctor. The suffer told the whole circumstance.

      "There yonders the hole. If you don't believe me, go look for yourself." So Stan flew up and took a look, then comes back and asks,

      "How many did you say you put in there?"

      "Not less than two ton."                                                                                    

       Stan went and looked again. He couldn't make it out either, no ants nothing, so he gave a few loud caws and five crows came. Then the six crows stood in a circle list’ in while Doug told the whole story. Then they discussed it ROBBERTS RULES OF ORDER. Each crow got off as many knuckleheaded inconsistent opinions as a group of Congressional incumbents. Finally a motion on the floor to accept the majority vote was made by Bill Arnold, and seconded by Glen Anderson. The majority vote decided to caw in more crows to gather walnuts. Soon the whole sky was black. There must have been 10,000 crows brawling, jaw'in, disputin, cussin, and making my place a poopy mess. For two whole days they dropped walnuts in the knot hole trying to fill it with no success. At last one old wise crow by the name of John Stone started snooping around. The front door was standing a crack open, pushed by all those walnuts. John perched himself on the rusty door knob and took a look in. Of course, that solved the sixty-four dollar question right then and there.

      “Come here,” John says, “Come here everybody."

        They all come swooping down, and as each lit around the door, they took a glance at the half-filled room of walnuts. The whole absurdity hit home. John fell over backward almost suffocating with laughter and the old lady crow next to him. There's no sense in saying a crow doesn’t have a sense of humor, or crows aren't on an equal to banana squash, except they have feathers and don't go to church.

        Two days later, while everyone was still fun ‘in, down the street came neighborhood butter cup squash Nosey Mary with her little yapie dog. Nosey Mary took a look inside and said, "This isn't funny."        Mostly the crows agreed, and one by one they flew back to Mountain Home or from whence they came.

        Bye and Bye Rattlesnake Jake nick named “Rango” a topnotch citizen from dirt city just up the road a piece, comes by. He offers free services at the Western Bands Showdowns, and investigates corrupt mayors, that help cause water shortages causing your water to bill to go up. 

To be continued…

DR. KARL WALLACE D.D.S.