ROBERT MORRISS: CANNIBAL SLAYER

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Vy 3...? Vy 3 x 3...? PONDERS the German Math. Prof. as he & his wife walk the "path" around Abbott Lake at the Peaks of Otter Lodge... they are German "Flat-Land" tourists for 3 nights; he sees numbers in EVERYTHING!
The 3 Black crows, NEVERMORE, MOJO, & SHADOW sing in "Sing-Song" voices, sounding like English Choir Boys:
"We 3, do meet & agree,
or 3 such as we,
THE SECRETS, not to tell...
OR! There will be..."

ARF! Quotes the GERMAN Math. Prof.; ACK! Said his wife... as they continued on the "Path" around Abbott Lake, at the base of SHARP TOP. MEANWHILE, "Beady" eyeballs are watching...
 

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ECS

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Suddenly he trips on something underfoot, sending him to the ground. As his wife helps him to his feet, he notices the object that caused his fall, and old black powder horn.
Reaching down to retrieve his find, he notices that the brass lid has engraved initials. Rubbing his thumb across the letters for a cleaner look, "TJB 1817" is revealed.
"Mein Gott", the German exclaims to his wife, "Was iss schloss?"
He opens the horns brass lid, and inside is a curled piece of paper, yellowed from age. Removing the paper, he slowly unrolls this missive, reading the note contained on its surface:
"Four miles from Buford's on the road to Fincastle, cross the creek from the left front side and..." the yellowed paper crumpled into dust in his hand before he could read the full message.
 

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On a branch above, Nevermore, Mojo, and Shadow watch in silence, while the wind cries Mary.
 

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As Hart entered the Alderman's office he noticed the Beale job pamphlet on the desk.
"Are you the Beale", Hart blurted out.
The Alderman let out a laugh like the roar of a freight train," I am Beale, but not that Beale. Please have a seat and we can ponder over this dime novel and the curious coincidence of the names".
The Alderman opened a desk drawer and produced a bottle and two glasses, pouring two fingers into each.
"Peach brandy", he announced," While handing his guest a Cuban box pressed cigar and lighting one himself. "I'll share my story with you".
"I was born I 1827, a foundling raised b a kindly Quaker family in Richmond's second Ward, so for starts, I was not even born when the story claims Mr Beale met with Mr Morriss. I have never been to Bedford county or Lynchburg and never met with this Mr Ward".
Hart listened, with full concentration, then inquired," What did you do during the War"?
"Oh, I see, the mention of the second year", the Alderman mused," I, with other freeborn men, formed the Richmond Howitzers, to defend our town from the invading Union forces".
"Is you middle name, Jefferson", Hart asked?
"No, the J is for Jackson, which I added after President Grant named this area, Jackson Ward. My sincere hope is that I have satisfied your questions, and that I am not the dime novel Beale, and have no knowledge of buried treasure".
Shaking hands, Hart departed, knowing that his quest was not over. He just had to find a Thomas Jefferson Beale.
WB!
 

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Owls cousin the old crow ,high atop the desolate blasted peaks gave a disheartened croak when the old nest fell out of the blasted snag it and it's former mate had worked for many seasons , and spilled their hard won pretties.
Below now, scattered about the rocks were dozens of old buttons ,spent cartridges, and a couple pocket watches, and some strange dried figure on a crude necklace.
Prizes of some other's war of madness , and a forgotten history's tangible ghosts.
Owls kin had seen the wild men assault the peaks ,and the visiting strangers defense.
They flew below to lower ground to announce all an owl can to those who only hear but don't understand .
Generations later still......WHO-hoo-oo oo?
WB!
 

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On a branch above, Nevermore, Mojo, and Shadow watch in silence, while the wind cries Mary.
Then, they started singing again (to the tune of WOODSTOCK by C, S, N, & Y):
"We are Tricksters, we are Joksters, & Playful in D's Garden...
We are Cocky, we are Magical, & Curious as D's Warden...
We are Confident, Secretive, & Mysterious as D's Vault Den...
And we are Protective, yet Unpredictable...
As we serve as your BIRDS OF WARNINGS."
 

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MEIN GOTT! What a RACKET! said the German Math. Prof.; as crumbled yellow paper flies in the wind; the 3 Black Crows are NOT amused...
 

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"Mary" in the wind (3 Black Crows "cross" themselves), carries the crumbled yellow paper to the "Onion Bulb" (SECRET USAF Radar "Station" with an "under-ground Base" on/under Onion
Mountain). Cited as Unidentified Flying Objects, RED ONION Alert was issued for the Blue Ridge Parkway... USFS Rangers armed themselves against foreign attacks; WEALTHY vacationers at the lodge continued on with "vacation plans"...
 

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MEANWHILE... Nevermore, Mojo, & Shadow alight on Balance Rock (aka The LION'S HEAD), on Harkening Hill/Mountain above Johnson FARM on the BRP (near where the original Mons Hotel was, in the "old days"); their conversation centered around Farmer Johnson finding a DEEP depression on his land, near his house. THERE is where he built his MAJESTIC Outhouse; IF... it is where the "Beale Treasure" is/was... it is/was covered under MANY years of # 1, # 2, & MORE; corn cobs, newspapers, toilet paper; MORE than a "two legs" (and an occasional "one leg") would EVER need. "Glad, I'm just a Crow" said Nevermore, as Mojo & Shadow silently agreed; nodding & winking... JA!
 

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MAJESTIC Outhouse is INDEED D's Vault Den, then. Are you "game"...? NEIN! Mutters the German Math Prof., as he & his wife toured Johnson Farm...
 

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It is OCTOBER! Halloween is approaching... the three Crows are joined by a Raven, EVERMORE... with tales of Mountain Ha'ints from the old village of Mons/Peaks of Otter area; wife & I are going to stay over-night at the Lodge in November. YEE HAW!
 

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Today, wife & I went up to the Peaks, then to Harvey's Knob; we saw 2 Hawks. Talked to some "locals" about the old days of Mons, Mons Hotel, Johnson Farm... NO Abbott Lake back then; ONLY the GREAT MARSH at the foot of Sharp Top. ANYWAY, EVERMORE (Raven) is "Speaking"... MANY legends from the "Olden Days"... GREAT MARSH LIGHTS, GREAT MARSH MONSTER, GHOSTLY Columns of Yanks going from Buchanan to Liberty/Bedford City on today's Rt. 43, GHOSTLY Horse & Riders on the old Mountain Roads of "Olden Days", GHOSTLY "Stagecoaches" & Horses on the old Turnpikes, GHOSTLY "doings" at the old Mons Hotel, leading up to Johnson Farm... DON'T GO OUT AT NIGHT! LAWDY! SPOOKY!
 

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YEP! The OLD Mons Hotel was across the BRP from current Lodge & Abbott Lake (then, the GREAT MARSH). An old road/path connected it to the Johnson Farm... where GHOSTLY "Doings" were/are going on at night. Sounds of laughter & old-time music is heard from the "Meadows" area, at night, going up to the Johnson Farm, and from there, going up Harkening Hill... where the "Lion's Head" is. DYK...? The WHOLE Mons Hotel "complex" was once owned by J.C.B. MORRIS...? Heh...
 

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EVERMORE again... GREAT MARSH LIGHTS were seen (3 of 'em) floating around the GREAT SWAMP... "SWAMP GAS", mutters the German Math Professor; GREAT MARSH MONSTER Hairy Ape-like, 7' tall "SOMETHING", walking on 2 legs & covered with GREAT MARSH scum, smelling NASTY... ESCAPEE FROM LOCAL CIRCUS THAT NEEDS A BATH, mutters the German Math Professor...
 

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Wife & I are staying at the Peaks of Otter Lodge on Oct. 30th instead of in November; will watch for the GM Lights (doubtful, since GREAT MARSH was drained & Abbott Lake was "built"). GM Monster sounds like a BIGFOOT; one was sighted on the Rt 43 heading up to PoO, several summers, ago. "Google" BIG FOOT sighted in Bedford County, Va.
 

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It was after the CONFEDERATE WAR that ppl of MONS/Peaks of Otter saw a GHOSTLY column of soldiers (at night) marching up from Buchanan/Bear Wallow Gap past Mons/Peaks of Otter down to Liberty/Bedford City (later to be "found" to be Black Dave Hunter & his Yanks on the way to invade Lynchburg, Va.). Earlier days of THIS century indicated just a few soldiers seen (mostly at night); GHOSTLY "images" must fade over time... dunno.
Read yesterday (10/26/16), that Black Dave Hunter & his Yanks DID burn down a hotel in Mons, on his march to Lynchburg, Va. Dang it all!
 

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LAST piece of info; ppl from Mons, Va. generally used the old TURNPIKES up & down from the mountains to get down & up from "flat-land communities" like Buchanan/Bear Wallow Gap, Fincastle/Bufords/Black Horse Gap; MANY that are Horse Trails, today, along the BRP. Haunted by GHOSTLY "Horse & Rider" or MANY in a group, "Stagecoaches"... ALWAYS at night. One that I like is the GHOST HORSE of BLACK HORSE GAP... SINGLE horse with a saddle, prancing around up there & then going down the old Turnpike towards Bufords... as if to show where the RIDER had fallen off; DO NOT FOLLOW! BAD things have happened... it is at night, and you CAN NOT see the "twist & turns" of the TURN-PIKE well! BE WARNED!
 

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Gonna look for GHOSTIES at Peaks of Otter, Sunday night; hope the GHOST-HUNTERS join us! Ghost-Busters are NOT invited. Heh...
 

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