Forestation Mystery What do you think about this note?

I have never told anyone what I am about to tell you. It was not for lack of courage, but because some will believe that I am crazy, others that I am superstitious and many will directly untie the moorings of mockery. But it really happened to me and today I dare to tell it. The summer of 1995 began to take its first steps. I had just finished my third year of college. I absolutely needed to work three months until the start of classes in some seasonal job. From Posadas I traveled to the Corrientes town of Ituzaingó to try my luck in the high season. But fortune was not on my side in the traditional beach jobs. At the terminal, waiting for my bus to return, a guard gave me the information that a forestry company was hiring personnel to work as a watchman in the afforestation. We were experiencing a prolonged drought along the entire coastline with a high level of fire risk. Once at the company, the person in charge of human resources interviewed me and explained that the job basically consisted of being alert at the top of a 25-meter tower, monitoring a certain radius and immediately notifying the central office if I spotted a source of fire. in the vicinity or in the afforestation itself. They offered me food and lodging with work and rest shifts of 12 for 12 hours. With no alternatives in sight, I accepted the job offer. They immediately handed me a uniform as a clerk and informed me that my shift would start at 6:00 p.m. In a truck, the foreman took me to watchtower number 26, about 30 kilometers from the town, where the company owned eucalyptus saligna plantations. We arrived at the destination and my mood was one of the best. The tower was strategically located and was built entirely with iron profiles. I climbed excitedly up the ladder the 25 meters. At the top I was able to observe an extraordinary panoramic view of all the fields and plantations, which the foreman told me were 8 years old. Handy in hand, I made my first report: "Here Juan Alberto, taking position from position 26, without incident." And the answer was not long in coming: "Copied Juan Alberto, we will be attentive." After that brief communication, silence was my companion. My workplace at the top was a kind of very precarious open cabin, with a surface of 2 x 1.5 meters so that I could move around. There was a bench and, on top, a black plastic officiated as a protective roof against the rain and the sun. Before leaving, the foreman handed me a long 38-caliber revolver loaded with 6 cartridges "in case any wild animal put my life at risk." In the early hours the north wind whispered in my ear and a puff of hot air burned my face. The neighboring field animals were exasperated and looked longingly at the shade of the forest. An extensive line of 5-wire fencing blocked their way. The sunset painted a wonderful canvas with shades of orange and red in the farewell of the star king, who slipped away opening the portals of the sky to an imposing full moon, which fully emerged with its light to collaborate with me in the watch. In that majestic moment I remembered a phrase that my grandfather used to repeat as he watched the twilight: “the night brings with it infinite mysteries”. From the height you could only hear the wanderings of the wind caressing the tops of the eucalyptus. Its sleepy effect overcame me. Sitting alone I closed my eyes in opacity. I don't know how long I was asleep, I only remember that the sound of a herd of cows mooing excited woke me up. His attacks against the fence shook the night. Still half asleep, I didn't know what was happening, until a harrowing and prolonged howl definitively broke the serenity of my surveillance post and triggered fear for a radius of 5 km. The chilling roar came from the vicinity of the crowd that, in a matter of seconds, ended up knocking down the fence. There was a great stampede and the animals ran towards the vegetal labyrinth of the afforestation. A hundred cows passed under the tower. The pounding of hooves was incessant. I was on the cusp scared, intrigued and not knowing what to do. My job was to take care of the afforestation and not the animals of the neighboring field. The bloodcurdling howl was a complete mystery to me, and the human being since the genesis of it, fears the unknown. Suddenly I heard, meters from the base of the tower, the ferocious attack of "something" on the animals. The bloodcurdling howl echoed again between growls, moos, violent thrashing and bumping. The full moon allowed me to see moving shapes and a dark animal, which with a rapid deployment, ran over and attacked the cattle with impetus. Fearful and helpless at the top of the tower, I took off the safety of the revolver and fired several shots in the direction of that shadow that kept attacking the cows. Within seconds that animal was at the base of the tower trying to climb up while growling wildly. It charged the iron structure that trembled with each impact. The screeching sound of metal brushing against teeth or claws, I really don't know, made my insides churn with fear. Fearing for my life and under the effects of fear, I desperately fired new shots at that "thing". I don't know if I put any bullets in it, but I got that demon freak out. I saw his silhouette walking away. He trotted like a dog but was big, almost the size of a cow. I was never able to determine what the pack attacked or what I shot. I reported to the headquarters extremely upset asking them to pick me up, that something had attacked the cattle, that from my position I could see several dead animals on the ground and that I feared their return. "Don't worry, Juan Alberto, if there are no sources of fire in his position, the search for him will not be activated, in three hours his guard will end and he will be relieved," was the response I received. I was moved and extremely scared those remaining three hours. The sore of dawn revealed the fallen fence and the dead cattle. Seven in all. I didn't dare to come down from the tower, fear would embrace me for months. The truck with the relief finally arrived. I didn't want to talk. The foreman toured the area of ​​the fallen wire fences and took the time to see the dead animals. A grim look and a long sigh said it all. In complete silence we returned to the village. The foreman did not allow the relief to stay. He mentioned, before starting the small car, that he would take over the position himself that night. During the trip, my partner asked him if what they had seen was the attack of a "wolf". The foreman never answered him. When I arrived at the company I quit my job. I returned the equipment that had been supplied to me including the revolver to the foreman. He paid me the day and checked the gun, but his last comment disturbed me even more: "He had 6 blessed silver bullets, maybe you killed him." He shook my hand, started the truck and headed back to the checkpoint. Days later, while I was recovering emotionally from what happened and listening to the radio, a piece of news left me dumbfounded and with goosebumps, even more so when the announcer located the event in the same field where I worked: “Foreman of forestry dies in violent stampede of cattle”. My grandfather was right: “the night brings with it infinite mysteries”.

Juan Marcelo Rodriguez

Unpublished. Rodríguez has published the books “Stories with a Missionary Essence” and Poems with a Missionary Essence.