posted on Jul, 3 2009 @ 10:34 PM
When I was 16 the older sister of the bass player of the band I played the drums in talked me into going deep into and onto an Indian Reservation
close to Billings Montana to look for what she called 'The little men of the Briars'.
She described them much the way you described them so late one night after a show and a party we headed out in her car along with a guitar player and
roadie from the band to drive for hours into the wilderness of the reservation to where just before the sun came up the last of the dirt roads turned
to grass covered trails.
We stopped a spell to climb the sheer face of a near by rock bluff that towered hundreds of feet over a nearby valley to watch the sun come up on a
panorama that was devoid of a single road, telephone pole, fence or sign of man for as far as the eye could see, which had to be about 25 miles.
We got back in her car and proceeded to drive along the narrowing dirt trail that was so overgrown a car could hardly pass until the point she got
stuck in a mud flat which her car just dug deeper into as she tried to drive out of it.
She laughed and said you know we are trespassing here; the Indians who live on this reservation can legally shoot us if they find us.
We proceeded to fashion some digging tools from branches and thick pieces of broken tree bark and low and behold I hit something with a metallic twang
and within a few moments unearthed a bottle of Whiskey that had it's label completely worn off and had been buried in the soft mud for heavens knows
We cracked it open and bravely each took a swig to determine in fact that it was Whiskey and as the other two guys in our party of four started
passing it back and forth between them merrily while sitting in the mud scraping at the rear tires, she announced to the assembled party that she and
I were going to take a break and a stroll to see if we could spot the "Little men of the Briars".
I was skeptical of course, being from big cities, having never heard of such a thing, and the Bass Player who was 19, and his sister who was 23 and
married to a rather odd older man where all 'eccentric' to say the least.
She had been telling me stories about these "little men" half the night, at the party after the show, during the long drive, and now as we walked a
good couple of miles into the woods well past where the road became a barely discernable path till we finally reached a natural clearing in the woods
similar to the one in your story.
It was early summer and early morning and full of wild flowers and high soft grass with a few thick fallen tree logs for seats too.
She said well here we are this is where I always find them...
In fact she said there is one here now...
I looked all around the meadow peering into the trees and the forest that surrounded it trying to detect one of these 'little men'.
Finally I looked at her and said, I don't see him, where...
She pointed at me and said...right here, you are the little man of the Briar today...sorry it's the only way I could get you away from everyone to be
alone with you!
As we enjoyed an hours long interlude frolicking about the meadow giggling at the cleverness of her wiles, determination and deception she finally
said...well we better get back before someone gets suspicious, I am sure they are nice and drunk by now and haven't really noticed how long we have
been gone, but better safe than sorry.
I agreed and said to her, kind of convenient me digging up that bottle of Whiskey like that then huh?
Yeah, she smiled a mischievous smile again and said that’s why I buried it there on my last trip!
I nearly choked when she said that...
I said well I hope they at least got your car dug out, it's going to be a real mess if we can't get it out of that mud hole...
She smiled and laughed again...oh I could have rocked out of that mud hole in three seconds and will, I just needed to give the guys something to do
while I was kidnapping you!
True to her word we returned to the car to find the other two guys falling down drunk and hardly having made a dent in the mud that just kept seeping
back in on itself as they tried to dig it out, and they pronounced freeing the car hopeless.
She smiled and said well let me try rocking it out one more time and it took her all of three seconds like she said to get the car back on solid
I don't know about the Little Men you friend saw, but there are truly "Little Men of the Briars" and evidently so I am told I am one of them.
As Joe Walsh would say "Life’s been good to me so far"
[edit on 3/7/09 by ProtoplasmicTraveler]