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To endeavor to bring to all residents of the Five States the most current and important news from across the entire Five States region. Never yellow, the Five States Herald vows to serve only the people of the Five States, from New Austin to Lemoyne, free of charge now and forever.
Turkey Massacre!
By Sofia Kathleen Fairfax – Lead Correspondent
The streets of Saint-Denis are in absolute chaos today, as celebration turns to rioting! An unknown number of people have been injured or possibly killed in what is a disaster that defies belief.
As a quiet promotion for Thanksgiving Day, some local shop owners thought it would be a great idea to release some turkeys into the city. With so many turkeys, individuals, rich or poor, could take one home and do what they please with it. Meal or pet, it’s up to them.
The event began with nearly one hundred turkeys being dropped from the cathedral bell tower and other tall structures. It immediately began to go awry when the turkey’s panicked and didn’t fly. They just fell onto the ground, exploding into a mess of feathers and blood. Several turkeys crashed through windows into saloons and houses; a few landed on people and horses. Those that did fly to the ground began to attack people en masse, as if they were enraged by the deaths of their comrades. Citizens of the city ran in terror, occasionally trampling others.
As of this writing, the local police are attempting to maintain order. Numerous people are unaccounted for; it’s truly a mess. I bore witness to it, and by the grace of God, I hope to never see such an event again. Oh the humanity.
Naturalist’s claim sparks misguided Gila monster hunt across New Austin
By Wylie Frey
A self-styled “herpetological naturalist” by the name of Dr. Lyle Bernford arrived in Armadillo this week, proclaiming with great certainty that the town’s lingering maladies stem from none other than the Gila monster, the mottled, slow-moving desert lizard known for its bead-like hide, venomous bite, and reputation for spreading fevers or mysterious skin ailments. The creatures are indeed common throughout New Austin and roam wide, never gathering near any one settlement, making it puzzling how Armadillo alone could suffer so uniquely if the lizards were to blame. Still, Dr. Bernford spoke with enough vigor to convince a fair number of locals desperate for answers.
His announcement spread faster than a prairie fire on a windy day. Within hours, riders from Tumbleweed to Cholla Springs were seen scouring the desert, overturning rocks and firing into brush at the slightest rustle. Reports say dozens of Gila monsters, which others say are mostly harmless unless mishandled, were killed outright. Traders complained of frightened pack animals spooked by the commotion, and one ranchhand swore he nearly got shot when a nervous hunter mistook his boot for a lizard’s head in the low dusk. As for Armadillo’s ailments, they remain unchanged, and no evidence has surfaced tying them to the reptiles Dr. Bernford so confidently accused.
Several respected naturalists denounced Bernford’s theory as reckless conjecture, with Harriet Davenport herself issuing a firm rebuke against the “senseless slaughter of a misunderstood species.” She and others maintain that Gila monsters neither congregate near Armadillo nor carry any disease known to afflict humans in such a sweeping manner. For now, Dr. Bernford has left New Austin and the Five States entirely, insisting he will “produce proofs in due time.”
A strange light over the Grizzlies stirs unease among trappers
By Jane Duran
Word has spread through the high country of Ambarino that an unusual light has been haunting the ridgelines above Lake Isabella. Several trappers, hardened folk not known for flights of fancy, reported glimpsing a pale, wavering glow drifting between the pines during the darkest hours before dawn. One man swore it moved “with the slow drag of a lantern held by no hand.” Another claimed the light vanished whenever he approached, only to reappear at a higher elevation as though climbing the mountain on its own silent terms. Such accounts have earned the phenomenon a name among locals: the Wanderer’s Lantern.
More troubling still, a handful of campfires were discovered mysteriously extinguished in the same region, the ashes cool despite the trappers swearing they had banked the coals the night before. Bootprints were found around one camp but led nowhere, simply stopping at the edge of a cliff. Some have speculated the light belongs to a lost mountaineer, or perhaps a bandit scouting lonely shelters, but most who have spent years in the Grizzlies say the behavior doesn’t match any human they’ve ever tracked. Rumors now swirl that the mountains are warning people to keep clear as winter tightens its grip.
Whether the phenomenon proves natural or something stranger, the reports have already thinned the number of trappers willing to range too far north. Supply runners to Colter say they’ve met seasoned men who refuse to leave the low valleys until the glow is explained, or until the mountains settle back into the familiar silence of ice and wind. For now, the Wanderer’s Lantern remains just out of reach, flickering along the snowy ridge as if daring someone to uncover the truth.
Forager’s misstep ends in painful tumble in Tall Trees
By Odell Clifton
A forager making his rounds in the wooded region of Tall Trees suffered a grave mishap this week after climbing a tall cottonwood in pursuit of eggs. According to his own account, he had just reached the nest when a bird “black as a starless night” burst upward with a furious squawk, striking his face with enough force to send him reeling. Startled and half-blinded, he lost his grip on the trunk and tumbled to the earth below. Though he remained conscious, the fall left him unable to stand, and he began dragging himself toward the main road in hopes of finding help.
Fortune favored him at last when a local traveler spotted the injured man inching along the roadside and lifted him into a wagon bound for Blackwater. There, the town physician confirmed his fears: his leg was broken clean through. While the forager is expected to recover in time, he admitted that no egg, no matter how rare or well-priced, is worth tangling with a bird determined to defend its home. Residents are reminded that spring nesting season brings out a protective streak in even the smallest woodland creatures. The very next day the forager put out bounties on birds, offering gold nuggets for anyone who managed to kill at least 10 birds.
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Bargain frenzy sweeps the Five States, leaving tempers frayed and jails crowded
By Frederick Vannesse
Merchants across the Five States reported an unprecedented surge of customers this week after advertising what many shopkeepers called “deals you simply cannot refuse.” From the dry-goods counters of Valentine to the general store of Blackwater to the many specialty shops in Saint Denis, crowds poured through doorways at first light, eager to seize discounted wares before others could. The competition grew fierce almost immediately. Shouting matches rang out over sacks of flour, scraps of cloth, and tins of coffee, with several disputes escalating into full-fledged brawls. Lawmen from Saint Denis to Strawberry found themselves stepping into shops rather than saloons to restore order, hauling away those most unwilling to be separated from either their bargains or their pride.
Among the more memorable incidents occurred in Rhodes, where two men grappled over the last can of beans marked down a mere five cents. Witnesses reported the combatants rolling across the floorboards, each insisting he had reached the shelf first. Sheriff Leigh Gray’s deputy arrived just in time to prevent the can itself from being used as a weapon, arresting one of the men after he refused to release his grip even when carried bodily toward the door. As the flurry of discounts subsides, storekeepers suggest that next season’s sales may be approached with greater caution, or at least sturdier shelving.
Bison herds suffer heavy losses as hunters overrun the Heartlands
By Emery Cosberry
The plains of the Heartlands bore grim witness to mass hunting this past weekend as scores of hunters swept across New Hanover in pursuit of the region’s dwindling bison. What began as a handful of riders stalking a small herd quickly swelled into a full-scale rush, with dozens converging upon the roaming giants. Shots echoed from dawn to dusk, and by Sunday evening the grasslands were strewn with carcasses. Traders in Valentine and Emerald Ranch reported such an influx of hides that buying stalls overflowed, overwhelming processors and storage alike.
The sudden glut collapsed the bison fur market almost overnight. Prices plummeted to their lowest in living memory, leaving many hunters stunned to discover their efforts scarcely worth the cartridge spent. As word spread that fur buyers were turning away wagonloads of excess hides, the frenzy tapered off, and riders dispersed in frustration. But though the hunters have moved on, the Heartlands themselves must contend with the aftermath :fewer breeding bulls, scattered cows, and calves left wandering without herds to guide them.
New Preacher arrives in Rhodes
By Emeline Vickroy
Residents of Rhodes found their expectations swiftly overturned this week with the arrival of a new preacher whose attire, a loose-fitting traveling coat, dust-stained boots, and a hat more suited to the trail than the altar, stirred murmurs among the congregation of the town’s small church. Though some whispered doubts about the man’s sense of decorum, his sermon carried an unexpected conviction, drawing a respectable crowd of townsfolk and travelers alike. Witnesses noted that the preacher spoke with a clarity and resolve that quieted even those that insisted that he looked nothing like a preacher.
That resolve was tested before the final hymn finished. According to several parishioners, an outlaw, emboldened by the new preacher’s arrival and assuming him to be a mild and tractable sort, attempted to rob an elderly woman seated near the aisle. The church fell momentarily into chaos until, with startling calm, the preacher reached behind his pulpit, produced a rifle and fired a single shot that struck the assailant with such force that it “took his whole head clean away,” as one shaken witness stated. Sheriff Leigh Gray is said to be reviewing the matter, though early accounts suggest the preacher acted in firm defense of his flock.
Bounty hunter decries meager payment as Doyle vanishes from custody
By Adam Parvey
A bounty hunter operating in Saint Denis voiced sharp displeasure this week after receiving what he termed a “paltry and insulting” payment of ten dollars for the apprehension of a woman alleged to be the notorious outlaw Etta Doyle. According to the bounty hunter’s account, Doyle proved every bit as elusive as her reputation suggests, surrounding herself with a cohort of women dressed near-identically, each mimicking her stance, voice, and infamous bravado. The resulting confusion led to a violent skirmish in the warehouse district, where the bounty hunter claims to have fought off “a whole parade of furious henchwomen,” each determined to secure their leader’s escape. Given the danger, effort, and uncertainty of the capture, he argued that the reward fell far short of fair compensation. Nonetheless, he accepted the money from Chief Benjamin Lambert’s office with visible reluctance.
Before dawn the next morning, the woman believed to be Doyle slipped free of the Saint Denis police station. Officers reported that a window had been broken open from the outside, the cell door forced with deliberate precision rather than brute strength. In hushed tones, several policemen admitted they suspected the dissatisfied bounty hunter of orchestrating the escape, perhaps as retaliation for the low payout or as a scheme to collect the reward a second time, but no solid evidence has yet surfaced. For now, the matter remains murky, and the hunt for Etta Doyle, or the woman who so convincingly posed as her, resumes once more in the fogbound streets of Saint Denis.
The Five States Herald 