Wolf Canyon: Treasures, Tremors, and…Werecats?

By Donna Menchen and Alida Young

Wolf Canyon is one story with two parallel viewpoints. Thirteen-year-old Robbie for the boys while Cactus, the desert cat, gives us his side of things.

Budge wants no part of plans to go into Wolf Canyon—at night in a bad storm—looking for a lost cave, an ancient family treasure, and a legendary gold Aztec mask. “It has to be tonight,” Robbie says, “or wait till next summer vacation.”

With the help of a coyote’s howl and a shaft of moonlight through the “Eyes of Death,” they find the cave and make some shocking discoveries. They can’t identify a terrible odor that fills the cave. From one of the passageways, they suddenly hear howl, yowl, screech, growl, then silence. What is it? A werewolf, a werecat, or…? It sends them all flying back out into the night.

The animals, as they react to what is happening and each other, add a lot to the mystery and humor of the story.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Dec 1, 2021
• ISBN: 9781662439667

Book preview

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Wolf Canyon

Treasures, Tremors, and…Werecats?

Donna Menchen and Alida Young

Copyright © 2021 Donna Menchen and Alida Young

All rights reserved

First Edition

PAGE PUBLISHING, INC.

Conneaut Lake, PA

First originally published by Page Publishing 2021

Cover Drawings by Logan Chandler

ISBN 978-1-6624-3965-0 (pbk)

ISBN 978-1-6624-3966-7 (digital)

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

Budge Won’t Budge

Down the Dark Canyon

Something Awful in There

Robbie Sees into the Past

It’s After Us

Trouble at Copper Canyon Ranch

Crunch, Crunch, Crunch

Mistletoe and Werewolves

Ungrateful Blatherskite

The Shaman and His Wolf

Attack of the Werecat

What’s a Werecat?

Chicken City Boy

The Cave Is Gone

Grandpa Joe Talks the Ears Off a Jackrabbit

The Clay Mask

An Interesting Experience!

The Cruelty of Shorty McCloud

Main Characters

Robbie: Spent much of his life in the Southern California high desert learning the survival skills and history of his Native American ancestors.

Budge: Comes from a large city back east and, according to Robbie, doesn’t know a roadrunner from a hoot owl. He’s staying with his cousin for summer vacation and is testy about almost everything.

Grandpa Joe: Robbie’s Native American grandfather. He has a positive influence on everyone and can talk the ears off a jackrabbit.

Cactus: The sand-colored desert cat and self-appointed guardian of Robbie. He is usually the voice of reason for the animal part of the story.

Ethelbert: The know-it-all roadrunner who is absolutely and positively always right. He is vain, vulnerable, and often funny. He expresses frustration at the futility of trying to talk to a cat.

Chewy: The skinny little white mouse. No one is really sure what is going on with him. Is he really what he seems?

Chapter 1

Budge Won’t Budge



Monday

Late, Near the Creek

The dirt trail narrowed, and the canyon walls closed in on them. Thirteen-year-old Robbie Burke glanced at his watch. How could it be eight already? When they left the cabin, it was light, but now he noticed for the first time how dark it was getting.

A few feet in front of him, his cousin Budge stopped. Hey, hear that roaring sound? That’s not like any creek I ever heard before.

The wind moaned through the tall cottonwood trees. It sounded like someone crying. A sudden strong gust whipped the branches, cracking and breaking a good-sized one loose. It thudded down a few feet from them.

Budge was right about the creek. It had been raining hard up the canyon, and the gentle flow had turned into a raging river.

Because the creek was over its banks, the trail was mostly underwater, and they had to make their way slowly through the trees and brush. In the distance, they heard the clap of rolling thunder.

Robbie was beginning to regret his decision to go cave hunting tonight with only Budge and the two animals. Budge was from the big city, didn’t know a roadrunner from a hoot owl, and hadn’t wanted to go down the canyon, to begin with. Maybe he had been right about that too. Just before they took off, they had been arguing in the back yard of the Burkes’ secluded cabin…

* * *

Earlier That Day

At the Cabin

 The cabin, in the high desert of Southern California, had looked small against the darkening Grayback Mountains. For late August, and only seven in the evening, it was cool—and strangely quiet.

No! Budge had said. I don’t want to go.

Ever since he could remember, Robbie had known about the Eyes of Death, the lost cave in Wolf Canyon and the fabled gold Aztec mask. Most of all, he wanted the small carved object that was in that cave. He also knew there were only a few nights each year that he could search for them.

A short distance away, Cactus, the sand-colored desert cat, sat in an old bathtub half filled with dirt.

Cactus and his friend Ethelbert lived in a shed nearby, almost hidden by large mesquite trees.

The family had just arrived after a camping trip to Yosemite Valley—where Budge and Robbie had been too busy getting on each other’s nerves to enjoy much of anything. Summer vacation was almost over, and though they came up to their cabin often, Robbie had been worried about getting back in time for this special night.

Budge, his arms folded stubbornly across his chest, was sitting in Grandpa Joe’s old rusted Second World War Army Jeep.

Robbie was anxious to get started, but Budge said he wasn’t about to go down any stupid canyon, at night, and it looked like rain.

Disgustedly, Robbie pushed back the straight black hair that kept falling in his eyes. He’d thought it was going to be so much fun to have Budge stay with him for a while. His cousin’s real name was Bertram King, but he was nicknamed Budge. Sure fits his name, Robbie thought. He wouldn’t budge an inch. Oh well, so he’s not a happy camper. He’s had a lot of problems.

Something rustled in the bushes.

Cactus, from his seat in the old bathtub, looked quickly toward the sound.

Budge stiffened and sat motionless. A little horned toad streaked from under the bush and disappeared. Budge turned toward the trail leading to the canyon. I’ll bet there’s wolves and coyotes and all kinds of weird things down there.

There haven’t been any wolves around here in years, Robbie said. He didn’t mention there were coyotes. Besides, no self-respecting ‘weird thing’ would think of biting a city boy like you.

Budge ignored him.

Robbie’s parents had gotten into the van and were leaving to visit their friends the Jensens. They waved goodbye. Say hello to the Potters for us, and be careful.

Robbie waved and smiled. Budge waved and sulked.

We have to get going, Robbie said. The Potters are expecting us soon, and I don’t want to be on the trail after dark.

Tell me about it, Budge grumbled.

Robbie liked to camp at Jake and Hanna Potter’s old trailer park. It wasn’t far from the cabin, and there was a beat-up canvas tepee that was fun to sleep in. Their place was about halfway down into Wolf Canyon, but his super favorite spot was the old abandoned Cahuilla (Ka-wee-yah) Indian campgrounds on the canyon floor near the creek. His dad had told him his ancestors were Cahuilla on Grandpa Joe’s side of the family.

Robbie opened his backpack and checked to make sure he had everything he needed. Budge’s red canvas bag leaned against the carport, but he still hadn’t budged from his spot in the Jeep.

Are you going or not? Robbie asked for the hundredth time.

Before Budge could answer, a swarm of canyon bats dived at them. He yelled as he ducked and covered his head. The squeaking bats swerved and made a sudden turn in their zigzag flight.

What was that? Budge demanded. He was shivering. You can keep your old desert. I’ll take the city any day. Let’s go see those Potter people tomorrow.

I’m out of here…with or without you.

Well, I’m staying right here, Budge said.

Okay, Robbie answered, suit yourself. Remember Mom and Dad won’t be home tonight. By the way, those were bats.

Budge looked alarmed but made no move to leave the Jeep. He gave a disapproving glance around. What a nothing place.

Okay, forget it, Robbie said. He’d had enough. He grabbed up his pack and, without a backward glance, started off.

Hey, Budge said, wait up. What’s the hurry?

Robbie kept going.

Wait a sec. I gotta get my pack. Budge jumped out of the Jeep. I’m not staying here alone, that’s for sure, he grouched to himself, keeping a wary eye on the bats fluttering around.

Hurriedly, he went to get his pack and run after Robbie. By the time he caught up, he was out of breath. For Pete’s sake, wait up. Can’t you take a joke?

Joke? Yeah, right! Robbie said, still miffed, but glad to be on their way at last. Cactus, he called, you coming? You better get Ethelbert!

* * *

Cactus, still sitting in the old bathtub, had forgotten all about Ethelbert, the cocky roadrunner. That bird would have a feathered fit if they’d gone to Potters without him. They never missed a chance to go anywhere with their human friend.

Cactus never could figure out why humans didn’t understand what animals were talking about. He seemed to know what Robbie meant—most of the time.

Hurrying to the shed, he found Ethelbert asleep in the top drawer of the old dresser. He slept in the top drawer, he said, because it suited his personality. Ethelbert, wake up.

Ugh, snort guggle, ugh. Can’t you let a poor bird sleep?

Not if you want to go to the Potters, Cactus said to the rumpled roadrunner. Robbie and Budge have already left for the canyon."

Budge? What’s a Budge?

Robbie’s cousin, that’s what, and I don’t trust him. I’ll bet he wouldn’t think twice about tying a can to a cat’s tail,

So be it, Ethelbert said, fluffing around and straightening his feathers. I’m ready. Let us depart.

* * *

8:00 p.m.

When the boys finally reached the camp, it had gotten even darker. Robbie looked for the usual bright cheerful lights in the trailer windows, but there were no lights at all. He had been watching for the animals, but so far, they hadn’t shown up.

The old couple lived in a desert-worn trailer overlooking the canyon. It was surrounded by scrub oak, junipers, and piñon pines. A few shacks, a dilapidated barn, and several ancient trailers were all that was left of the once-thriving park. Even the dirt road to the nearest small town was in bad shape.

Robbie knocked on the door of the trailer. No answer.

Budge gripped his flashlight, shining it around the camp, trying to get rid of the darkness and shadows with his one small light. We’ve gotta go back, he said, a little catch in his voice, now!

Robbie knocked again. Nothing…not a sound.

They probably went to the store. Mr. Potter doesn’t like to drive at night, so they should be back any minute.

Robbie Burke, read my lips. I don’t care where they are. We can’t stay here.

We can’t go back, Robbie said firmly. "I’ve got important things to do tonight, but for now, just cool it and let’s