WEBVTT 1 00:00:00.040 --> 00:00:01.600 Today, I want to tell you about a journey that 2 00:00:01.600 --> 00:00:03.879 I've been on for most of my life. Ever since 3 00:00:03.919 --> 00:00:05.799 I was a kid, I've heard tales of Bigfoot and 4 00:00:05.839 --> 00:00:08.320 wild men while spending time with my friends and family. 5 00:00:09.039 --> 00:00:11.439 As I grew older and read more about the paranormal, 6 00:00:11.599 --> 00:00:14.679 my interest in encryptids and other things strange only deepened. 7 00:00:15.240 --> 00:00:17.160 That's why I'm so excited to share with you what 8 00:00:17.199 --> 00:00:21.640 I've personally become involved with the Untold Radio Network. The 9 00:00:21.719 --> 00:00:25.280 Untold Radio Network is a live streaming podcast network that 10 00:00:25.359 --> 00:00:29.359 airs a new show every day across all podcast platforms, YouTube, 11 00:00:29.359 --> 00:00:32.119 and more. They have eight different shows on all sorts 12 00:00:32.159 --> 00:00:36.119 of exciting topics such as bigfoot, cryptids, UFOs, aliens, and 13 00:00:36.200 --> 00:00:39.479 much more. I even have my own show called Weird Encounters, 14 00:00:39.479 --> 00:00:42.439 where I talk about all things strange. This is more 15 00:00:42.479 --> 00:00:45.280 than just a podcast network. It's a community that allows 16 00:00:45.320 --> 00:00:47.759 me to meet so many amazing people who share their 17 00:00:47.759 --> 00:00:51.520 stories and experiences with strange. If you're interested in hearing 18 00:00:51.520 --> 00:00:54.600 more of these stories and learning more about the paranormal encryptids, 19 00:00:54.960 --> 00:00:57.359 make sure you check out the Untold Radio Network for 20 00:00:57.479 --> 00:01:00.759 all kinds of exciting shows. It's free to subscribe. So 21 00:01:00.759 --> 00:01:05.319 what are you waiting for visit www dot untold radionetwork 22 00:01:05.439 --> 00:01:06.560 dot com today. 23 00:01:06.760 --> 00:01:09.680 Now, what are your reporting? I got a screen going 24 00:01:09.719 --> 00:01:12.840 on here. Something just killed my dog. Something killed your dog? 25 00:01:13.599 --> 00:01:15.799 My dog. We're flying through there, over the tree. I 26 00:01:15.799 --> 00:01:21.120 don't know how it did it? Okay, damn, I'm really confused. 27 00:01:21.319 --> 00:01:23.159 All I saw was my dog coming over the fence, 28 00:01:23.200 --> 00:01:25.159 and name it dead once you hit the ground. I 29 00:01:25.159 --> 00:01:27.079 didn't see any cars. All I saw was my dog 30 00:01:27.120 --> 00:01:46.680 coming over the fence. Made What are you reporting? We 31 00:01:46.799 --> 00:01:57.560 got some wonder or something crawling around out here? Did 32 00:01:57.560 --> 00:02:00.680 you see what it was? It enough here? Look, I'm 33 00:02:00.719 --> 00:02:02.439 new the window now and I don't need anything. I 34 00:02:02.439 --> 00:02:11.080 don't want to go outside. It's hello, hit the boddy 35 00:02:11.120 --> 00:02:13.240 out here? What quent on out there? I thought of 36 00:02:13.240 --> 00:02:16.360 a bench about text nine. I don't know easy an 37 00:02:16.439 --> 00:02:18.639 out there? Yeah, I'm walking right, heady h. 38 00:02:19.400 --> 00:02:22.479 I remember the sound of the engine first, that struggling 39 00:02:22.560 --> 00:02:25.719 wine as my old Cessna one eighty five Skywagon fought 40 00:02:25.719 --> 00:02:30.319 against the bitter February winds. The aluminum frame rattled and shook, 41 00:02:30.759 --> 00:02:34.120 but she held together like she always did. That plane 42 00:02:34.159 --> 00:02:35.840 and I had been through a lot together in the 43 00:02:35.879 --> 00:02:37.960 eight years since I'd bought her second hand from a 44 00:02:38.000 --> 00:02:41.599 retiring bush pilot and yellow Knife. I'd named her Claire, 45 00:02:41.639 --> 00:02:45.000 after my mother, who died when I was fifteen. Mom 46 00:02:45.039 --> 00:02:47.680 had always loved the idea of flight, though she'd never 47 00:02:47.719 --> 00:02:51.280 set foot in a plane. Too expensive for a trapper's wife. 48 00:02:51.280 --> 00:02:55.680 Back then, the vast expanse of the Northwest Territories stretched 49 00:02:55.719 --> 00:02:59.240 out beneath me, an endless sea of white punctuated by 50 00:02:59.240 --> 00:03:02.719 the dark green of pine and spruce. I'd been making 51 00:03:02.719 --> 00:03:05.719 this trip twice a year since I was nineteen, flying 52 00:03:05.719 --> 00:03:08.159 out to my father's old trapping cabin, deep in the 53 00:03:08.159 --> 00:03:11.680 back country, where the rivers ran unnamed, and the only 54 00:03:11.719 --> 00:03:14.719 maps that mattered were the ones etched into my memory. 55 00:03:15.599 --> 00:03:18.879 My father had died four years earlier massive heart attack 56 00:03:18.960 --> 00:03:22.280 while checking his trap lines. Found him three days later, 57 00:03:22.599 --> 00:03:26.960 frozen solid, half covered by fresh snow. After the funeral, 58 00:03:27.000 --> 00:03:29.560 there'd been talk among my uncles about selling the cabin 59 00:03:29.680 --> 00:03:33.120 and the trap lines. Family tradition are not They said 60 00:03:33.360 --> 00:03:36.319 that life was dying, the fur market wasn't what it 61 00:03:36.439 --> 00:03:39.479 used to be. Go to college, they said, get a 62 00:03:39.520 --> 00:03:43.479 real job. I'd nodded and agreed, then took the next 63 00:03:43.479 --> 00:03:47.240 season's earnings and bought Claire instead. My name is Thomas. 64 00:03:48.240 --> 00:03:50.919 I was twenty five that winter, though the weather and 65 00:03:51.000 --> 00:03:55.120 isolation of northern Canada had aged my face beyond my years. 66 00:03:56.000 --> 00:03:58.479 My father had been a trapper, as had his father 67 00:03:58.560 --> 00:04:01.719 before him. The mercers had been taking fur in these 68 00:04:01.719 --> 00:04:04.719 woods since before Canada was a country. It was in 69 00:04:04.800 --> 00:04:08.280 our blood. And despite what my uncle said, I made 70 00:04:08.319 --> 00:04:11.840 a decent living, not rich by any means, but enough 71 00:04:11.840 --> 00:04:14.960 to sustain me between seasons with some carpentry work back 72 00:04:15.000 --> 00:04:18.680 in yellow Knife. More importantly, I was my own man 73 00:04:18.720 --> 00:04:23.000 out here, no boss, no time card, just me and 74 00:04:23.040 --> 00:04:26.040 the wilderness and the steady rhythm of the trap lines. 75 00:04:26.920 --> 00:04:29.319 The cabin came into view as I crested a ridge 76 00:04:29.600 --> 00:04:32.839 nestled against the edge of a frozen lake, surrounded by 77 00:04:32.839 --> 00:04:36.240 a dense wall of trees. The small clearing I used 78 00:04:36.240 --> 00:04:38.800 as a landing strip was just visible through the light 79 00:04:38.879 --> 00:04:42.639 snow that had begun to fall. I circled once, checking 80 00:04:42.639 --> 00:04:46.040 for obstacles or animal tracks, then lined up my approach. 81 00:04:47.079 --> 00:04:49.639 Landing a bush plane on a makeshift snow strip is 82 00:04:49.680 --> 00:04:53.360 always a gamble. Too soft and you sink, too icy 83 00:04:53.720 --> 00:04:57.480 and you can't stop. That day, the snow was just right, 84 00:04:58.000 --> 00:05:00.480 about eight inches of powder over a firm and base. 85 00:05:01.360 --> 00:05:03.879 The skis touched down with a gentle hiss, and I 86 00:05:03.920 --> 00:05:07.000 cut the engine, letting momentum carry me to the edge 87 00:05:07.000 --> 00:05:11.240 of the tree line. The silence that followed was absolute, 88 00:05:11.399 --> 00:05:13.519 the kind of quiet you only find in the deep 89 00:05:13.560 --> 00:05:18.600 wilderness in winter, where sound itself seems frozen. I sat 90 00:05:18.639 --> 00:05:21.399 there for a moment, letting the stillness wash over me, 91 00:05:21.920 --> 00:05:25.759 purging the last remnants of civilization from my system. This 92 00:05:25.920 --> 00:05:29.879 was where I belonged, This was home. I reached over 93 00:05:29.920 --> 00:05:32.560 to the passenger seat, where my worn leather satchel lay, 94 00:05:33.040 --> 00:05:36.920 the one constant companion on all my trips. Inside was 95 00:05:36.920 --> 00:05:41.079 my journal, a tradition passed down from my grandfather. A 96 00:05:41.120 --> 00:05:44.160 trapper's mind gets funny in the isolation, he told me once, 97 00:05:44.839 --> 00:05:48.680 Writing keeps you tethered to yourself. I'd been keeping detailed 98 00:05:48.680 --> 00:05:52.759 records since my first solo trip, weather conditions, animal sign 99 00:05:53.120 --> 00:05:57.480 trap yields, and the occasional stray thought or observation. The 100 00:05:57.560 --> 00:05:59.920 journal was nearly full. Now I'd have to start a 101 00:06:00.120 --> 00:06:04.680 new one soon. The date was February twelfth, nineteen eighty seven. 102 00:06:05.279 --> 00:06:07.920 I noted it in the journal, along with the temperature 103 00:06:07.920 --> 00:06:12.279 from the plane's gauge negative twenty four degrees celsius, wind 104 00:06:12.279 --> 00:06:19.720 direction northwest, and sky conditions scattered clouds, light snow, routine, normal, 105 00:06:20.319 --> 00:06:24.319 everything as it should be. I unloaded my supplies methodically, 106 00:06:24.720 --> 00:06:29.439 fuel for the generator, dried food, ammunition, trapping equipment, and 107 00:06:29.480 --> 00:06:33.560 the small luxuries that made the isolation bearable coffee, whiskey, 108 00:06:33.600 --> 00:06:37.000 and a stack of paperback Westerns. The cabin was about 109 00:06:37.040 --> 00:06:40.560 fifty yards from the landing strip, and I made several trips, 110 00:06:40.920 --> 00:06:44.519 trudging through the snow with heavy loads, my breath clouded 111 00:06:44.519 --> 00:06:48.319 in the frigid air, the temperature hovering around fifteen below zero. 112 00:06:49.120 --> 00:06:51.839 It wasn't until my final trip, arms loaded with the 113 00:06:51.920 --> 00:06:54.759 last of my gear, that I noticed something was wrong. 114 00:06:55.680 --> 00:06:58.560 The snow around the cabin had been disturbed, not by 115 00:06:58.600 --> 00:07:01.720 small animals I knew those tracks well enough, but by 116 00:07:01.759 --> 00:07:06.240 something large, something that walked on two legs. I set 117 00:07:06.279 --> 00:07:10.199 down my gear and approached cautiously, my hand instinctively moving 118 00:07:10.199 --> 00:07:13.879 to the thirty six rifles slung across my back. The 119 00:07:13.959 --> 00:07:17.120 tracks were unlike anything I'd ever seen, and I'd spent 120 00:07:17.160 --> 00:07:20.720 my life in these woods. They resembled a man's footprint, 121 00:07:20.959 --> 00:07:25.519 but were nearly twice the size, eighteen maybe twenty inches long. 122 00:07:26.360 --> 00:07:29.839 The stride length was enormous, easily twice what mine would be. 123 00:07:29.879 --> 00:07:32.680 In the deep snow, a chill that had nothing to 124 00:07:32.720 --> 00:07:35.759 do with the temperature ran through me. I'd heard stories, 125 00:07:35.800 --> 00:07:39.959 of course, every trapper in the North Country had tales 126 00:07:40.000 --> 00:07:42.920 told around campfires about the wild men of the woods, 127 00:07:43.439 --> 00:07:47.920 the Sasquatch, the wind to go. Old Jim Blackfoot, a 128 00:07:48.000 --> 00:07:51.480 Cree elder who sometimes traded with my father, called them 129 00:07:51.759 --> 00:07:55.160 the shadow people, beings that lived in the spaces between 130 00:07:55.199 --> 00:07:58.800 the known and unknown world. I'd always written them off 131 00:07:58.839 --> 00:08:02.279 as the product of isolation and too much whiskey. But 132 00:08:02.439 --> 00:08:06.079 standing there, looking at those massive impressions in the virgin snow, 133 00:08:06.639 --> 00:08:10.000 doubt crept in for the first time. I knelt down 134 00:08:10.000 --> 00:08:13.040 to examine one of the prints more closely. The snow 135 00:08:13.040 --> 00:08:16.160 had drifted slightly into the depression, but the outline was 136 00:08:16.199 --> 00:08:21.040 still clear. Five toes no notable arch with a deep 137 00:08:21.120 --> 00:08:26.639 heel impression, remarkably human in shape, just vastly larger and 138 00:08:26.759 --> 00:08:30.439 fresh made within the last day. Judging by the lack 139 00:08:30.480 --> 00:08:34.519 of complete infill from the light snowfall. I followed the 140 00:08:34.559 --> 00:08:37.799 tracks around the perimeter of the cabin. Whatever had made 141 00:08:37.840 --> 00:08:41.080 them had circled the structure several times, pausing at the 142 00:08:41.120 --> 00:08:44.799 windows as if peering inside. Then the tracks led off 143 00:08:44.840 --> 00:08:47.600 into the woods to the north, toward the higher country, 144 00:08:47.600 --> 00:08:50.480 where the game was scarcer and the terrain more rugged. 145 00:08:51.320 --> 00:08:55.720 The rationale part of my brain searched for explanations. A bear, perhaps, 146 00:08:56.039 --> 00:08:57.759 though it was the dead of winter when they should 147 00:08:57.799 --> 00:09:01.639 be deep in hibernation and didn't walk exclusively on their 148 00:09:01.720 --> 00:09:06.480 hind legs for such distances. A moose, No, the shape 149 00:09:06.519 --> 00:09:10.519 was all wrong, some kind of hoax out here, hundreds 150 00:09:10.519 --> 00:09:14.879 of miles from the nearest town. Impossible. I shook off 151 00:09:14.879 --> 00:09:17.919 the unease and went about opening up the cabin. It 152 00:09:17.919 --> 00:09:20.639 had been battened down since my fall trapping season three 153 00:09:20.679 --> 00:09:23.840 months earlier, and a thin layer of dust covered everything. 154 00:09:24.679 --> 00:09:27.159 I fired up the wood stove first, then the small 155 00:09:27.240 --> 00:09:30.600 generator that powered the lights and radio. Within an hour, 156 00:09:30.639 --> 00:09:32.879 the cabin was warm and felt like my own again. 157 00:09:33.759 --> 00:09:37.399 The cabin itself was solidly built. My grandfather and father 158 00:09:37.440 --> 00:09:40.679 had constructed it in the late nineteen fifties using local 159 00:09:40.679 --> 00:09:44.519 timber and stone. It consisted of a single large room, 160 00:09:44.600 --> 00:09:47.759 with a loft sleeping area accessed by a wooden ladder. 161 00:09:48.440 --> 00:09:51.600 The main floor had the wood stove, a small kitchen area, 162 00:09:52.080 --> 00:09:54.240 my father's old desk where I kept maps in the 163 00:09:54.240 --> 00:09:57.159 log books of our trap lines, and a sitting area 164 00:09:57.200 --> 00:10:01.039 with two handmade chairs. The walls were lined with shelves 165 00:10:01.080 --> 00:10:04.840 of supplies, tools, and my father's small library of books, 166 00:10:05.440 --> 00:10:09.960 mostly practical guides to wilderness survival, animal behavior, and trapping, 167 00:10:10.480 --> 00:10:13.919 but also a few dog eared classics. My father had 168 00:10:13.919 --> 00:10:16.639 been a reader, something unusual among the men of his 169 00:10:16.720 --> 00:10:20.360 generation and profession. I went through my usual routine of 170 00:10:20.440 --> 00:10:24.320 checking the cabin's condition. The roof hadn't leaked, the cash 171 00:10:24.360 --> 00:10:28.320 of emergency supplies beneath the floorboards was untouched. The stone 172 00:10:28.399 --> 00:10:32.240 chimney drew well. Everything was as I'd left it, except 173 00:10:32.279 --> 00:10:35.720 for one thing. The small carved wooden bear that always 174 00:10:35.759 --> 00:10:37.919 sat on the mantle was now on my father's desk. 175 00:10:38.720 --> 00:10:41.000 I was certain I'd left it on the mantle I 176 00:10:41.039 --> 00:10:45.360 always did, a small superstition of mine. Perhaps I'd moved 177 00:10:45.360 --> 00:10:48.639 it during my last visit and forgotten. I replaced the 178 00:10:48.639 --> 00:10:51.919 bear on the mantle, then unpacked my supplies. The light 179 00:10:52.039 --> 00:10:55.200 was already fading, winter days were short this far north, 180 00:10:55.639 --> 00:10:57.600 so I decided to settle in for the night and 181 00:10:57.639 --> 00:11:00.759 begin setting my trap lines. In the morning, I cooked 182 00:11:00.759 --> 00:11:03.279 a simple meal of bacon and beans, had a finger 183 00:11:03.320 --> 00:11:05.759 of whiskey, and read a few chapters of a Louis 184 00:11:05.799 --> 00:11:10.639 Lamour novel I'd brought along normal routine. The strange tracks 185 00:11:10.679 --> 00:11:15.480 outside gradually faded from my thoughts. That first night passed uneventfully. 186 00:11:16.039 --> 00:11:19.639 I organized my supplies, oiled my traps, and planned my 187 00:11:19.720 --> 00:11:23.320 lines for the coming weeks. The strange tracks remained at 188 00:11:23.360 --> 00:11:26.039 the back of my mind, but I pushed the thought away. 189 00:11:26.960 --> 00:11:29.320 The wilderness played tricks on a man's mind if he 190 00:11:29.399 --> 00:11:32.759 let it. I'd learned long ago to focus on the practical, 191 00:11:33.240 --> 00:11:38.639 the tangible. Everything else was just distraction. I awoke before dawn, 192 00:11:38.960 --> 00:11:42.440 as was my habit. The temperature had dropped further overnight 193 00:11:42.799 --> 00:11:45.120 and frost had formed on the inside of the windows. 194 00:11:45.879 --> 00:11:48.840 I stoked the fire, put coffee on to boil, and 195 00:11:48.919 --> 00:11:52.279 prepared for my first day of setting trap lines. The 196 00:11:52.320 --> 00:11:54.759 sky was just beginning to lighten as I strapped on 197 00:11:54.879 --> 00:11:57.919 my snow shoes and loaded my pack with traps and bait. 198 00:11:58.759 --> 00:12:01.399 I carried my rifle at the right. Not because of 199 00:12:01.399 --> 00:12:04.960 the mysterious tracks, I told myself, but because of wolves 200 00:12:04.960 --> 00:12:08.840 and the occasional rogue bear. My main trap line followed 201 00:12:08.879 --> 00:12:11.759 the frozen creek that fed into the lake, winding through 202 00:12:11.840 --> 00:12:16.120 dense forests before climbing into more open, rocky terrain. I'd 203 00:12:16.159 --> 00:12:19.080 been working it for years and knew every bend, every 204 00:12:19.080 --> 00:12:23.960 good spot for Martin, mink, beaver, and the occasional wolverine. 205 00:12:24.000 --> 00:12:26.480 The morning was crisp and clear, the kind of day 206 00:12:26.480 --> 00:12:29.639 that reminded me why I love this life despite its hardships. 207 00:12:30.440 --> 00:12:32.840 The snow sparkled in the early light, and my breath 208 00:12:32.879 --> 00:12:34.759 plumed in front of me. As I worked my way 209 00:12:34.799 --> 00:12:38.639 along the creek. I set my first traps methodically, a 210 00:12:38.679 --> 00:12:41.360 series of conna bears for Martin near a natural funnel 211 00:12:41.399 --> 00:12:44.360 in the terrain, then some leg holed traps baited with 212 00:12:44.440 --> 00:12:47.639 fish scraps for mink along the creek bank. I was 213 00:12:47.679 --> 00:12:50.320 about two miles from the cabin setting a conna bear 214 00:12:50.399 --> 00:12:53.360 trap for beaver near a small dam when I heard it, 215 00:12:54.159 --> 00:12:56.559 a sound so out of place in the winter forest 216 00:12:56.799 --> 00:13:01.080 that at first my mind couldn't process it. Long mournful 217 00:13:01.120 --> 00:13:03.679 howl that started low and rose to a pitch that 218 00:13:03.799 --> 00:13:06.759 made the hair on my neck stand up. It wasn't 219 00:13:06.759 --> 00:13:09.120 a wolf. I knew their voices as well as I 220 00:13:09.159 --> 00:13:13.080 knew my own. This was something different, something I'd never 221 00:13:13.120 --> 00:13:17.159 heard before. The sound echoed across the valley, bouncing off 222 00:13:17.200 --> 00:13:20.799 the distant mountains, making it impossible to determine its source. 223 00:13:21.600 --> 00:13:25.360 It lasted for nearly thirty seconds before fading away, leaving 224 00:13:25.399 --> 00:13:29.000 only the soft whisper of wind through the pines. I 225 00:13:29.039 --> 00:13:33.080 remained crouched by the trap. Every sense heightened my breath. 226 00:13:33.120 --> 00:13:38.320 Shallow minutes passed. Then from a different direction, came in answer, 227 00:13:39.000 --> 00:13:44.159 the same unearthly howl, but deeper, more powerful. The two 228 00:13:44.200 --> 00:13:47.600 voices called back and forth three times before silence reclaimed 229 00:13:47.600 --> 00:13:51.480 the forest, two of them. The thought sent a surge 230 00:13:51.480 --> 00:13:55.000 of adrenaline through my system. I finished setting the trap 231 00:13:55.039 --> 00:13:58.200 with shaking hands, gathered my gear, and headed back toward 232 00:13:58.240 --> 00:14:01.519 the cabin at a pace just short of running. About 233 00:14:01.559 --> 00:14:05.799 halfway back, I stopped abruptly. There in the snow, crossing 234 00:14:05.840 --> 00:14:08.679 my own tracks from earlier that morning, was a fresh 235 00:14:08.679 --> 00:14:12.200 set of the massive footprints. They came from the direction 236 00:14:12.279 --> 00:14:14.960 of the ridge to my west, cut directly across my 237 00:14:15.080 --> 00:14:18.960 path and continued eastward toward a series of rocky outcroppings. 238 00:14:19.759 --> 00:14:22.279 Whatever had made them had passed this way after I 239 00:14:22.360 --> 00:14:26.200 had within the last hour or two. The implications were 240 00:14:26.200 --> 00:14:29.919 clear and terrifying. It had been following me. I raised 241 00:14:29.919 --> 00:14:33.200 my rifle and scanned the forest around me. Nothing moved 242 00:14:33.200 --> 00:14:36.639 except the occasional puff of snow falling from an overloaded branch. 243 00:14:37.440 --> 00:14:41.960 The forest was deathly quiet. No birds, no squirrels, as 244 00:14:41.960 --> 00:14:45.360 if every living thing was holding its breath. With my 245 00:14:45.440 --> 00:14:48.200 heart in my throat, I continued toward the cabin, no 246 00:14:48.279 --> 00:14:51.960 longer bothering to be quiet. Speed mattered more than stealth. 247 00:14:52.000 --> 00:14:55.639 Now every few yards I would stop and listen, then 248 00:14:55.679 --> 00:15:01.279 scan the trees around me. Nothing for more sasquatch ot 249 00:15:01.279 --> 00:15:08.440 to see. We'll be right back after these messages, but 250 00:15:08.519 --> 00:15:11.799 the sense of being watched was overwhelming. The rest of 251 00:15:11.840 --> 00:15:14.960 that day, I stayed close to the cabin, setting traps 252 00:15:14.960 --> 00:15:18.919 in a tight perimeter and gathering firewood. I told myself 253 00:15:18.919 --> 00:15:22.399 it was efficient that I'd expand my range tomorrow, but 254 00:15:22.440 --> 00:15:25.240 the truth was I didn't want to venture far, not 255 00:15:25.360 --> 00:15:28.960 after what I'd heard and seen. As dusk approached, I 256 00:15:28.960 --> 00:15:31.039 built up the fire in the wood stove, and made 257 00:15:31.080 --> 00:15:34.639 a simple dinner of beans and salt pork. The windows 258 00:15:34.639 --> 00:15:37.559 of the cabin were dark mirrors against the night, and 259 00:15:37.639 --> 00:15:40.399 more than once I caught myself staring at them, half 260 00:15:40.480 --> 00:15:43.480 expecting to see a face looking back at me. I 261 00:15:43.519 --> 00:15:47.240 cleaned my rifle, meticulously loaded it, and kept it within 262 00:15:47.399 --> 00:15:50.759 arm's reach. I decided to make an entry in my journal, 263 00:15:51.120 --> 00:15:54.399 trying to capture the howls i'd heard in words. I 264 00:15:54.519 --> 00:15:58.039 described them as neither human nor animal, but something that 265 00:15:58.080 --> 00:16:01.279 exists in the space between, like the cry of something 266 00:16:01.320 --> 00:16:04.919 that once new language but has forgotten it. As I wrote, 267 00:16:05.240 --> 00:16:08.559 I noticed my hand was shaking slightly. I poured myself 268 00:16:08.600 --> 00:16:12.519 a generous measure of whiskey, hoping it would steady my nerves. 269 00:16:13.279 --> 00:16:17.279 Sleep came fitfully that night. Each creak of the cabin's timbers, 270 00:16:17.600 --> 00:16:21.200 each whisper of wind, had me sitting upright, straining to hear. 271 00:16:21.960 --> 00:16:25.759 But the hows didn't return, and eventually exhaustion claimed me. 272 00:16:26.519 --> 00:16:29.799 The next morning dawned clear and cold. A fresh dusting 273 00:16:29.799 --> 00:16:33.240 of snow had fallen overnight, covering yesterday's tracks with a 274 00:16:33.240 --> 00:16:36.759 clean white slate. I studied the area around the cabin 275 00:16:36.799 --> 00:16:40.559 from the windows before venturing out, no fresh tracks, no 276 00:16:40.679 --> 00:16:44.399 signs of disturbance. Perhaps whatever had been stalking me had 277 00:16:44.440 --> 00:16:48.639 moved on. With renewed confidence, I set out earlier than usual, 278 00:16:49.080 --> 00:16:52.120 determined to shake off the previous day's unease and get 279 00:16:52.120 --> 00:16:55.360 back to the business of trapping. I needed this season 280 00:16:55.399 --> 00:16:58.759 to be productive. The fur market wasn't what it once was, 281 00:16:59.080 --> 00:17:01.639 but I'd built a reputeation for quality pelts among the 282 00:17:01.679 --> 00:17:05.319 buyers and Yellowknife, and I had orders to fill. I 283 00:17:05.359 --> 00:17:07.960 headed west, this time toward a ridge where I often 284 00:17:08.000 --> 00:17:11.480 had luck with Martin. The sun was bright, glinting off 285 00:17:11.519 --> 00:17:14.480 the snow in a way that lifted my spirits. This 286 00:17:14.640 --> 00:17:18.279 was just another season, I told myself, nothing different about it. 287 00:17:19.039 --> 00:17:21.119 I'd set about half my traps when I found the 288 00:17:21.119 --> 00:17:24.279 first sign, at the base of a large pine. The 289 00:17:24.319 --> 00:17:26.599 snow had been cleared away in a rough circle about 290 00:17:26.640 --> 00:17:29.839 six feet in diameter. In the center lay a neatly 291 00:17:29.960 --> 00:17:32.920 arranged pile of pine cones, surrounded by a ring of 292 00:17:32.960 --> 00:17:38.039 broken branches. It was deliberate, methodical. No animal I knew 293 00:17:38.079 --> 00:17:42.200 behaved this way. I studied the area around the strange arrangement. 294 00:17:42.680 --> 00:17:46.039 The snow was trampled by those same large human like tracks. 295 00:17:46.839 --> 00:17:49.759 They led away toward a dense thicket of spruce, where 296 00:17:49.759 --> 00:17:52.319 the branches grew so close together that I would have 297 00:17:52.319 --> 00:17:55.400 had to crawl to follow. I marked the location in 298 00:17:55.480 --> 00:17:59.359 my mind and moved on, but my unease had returned tenfold. 299 00:18:00.319 --> 00:18:03.759 Twice more that day I found similar arrangements, once with 300 00:18:03.839 --> 00:18:07.039 pine cones, once with small stones from a creek bed, 301 00:18:07.799 --> 00:18:12.160 each time surrounded by those massive tracks. At the third site, 302 00:18:12.400 --> 00:18:15.279 I noticed something I'd missed at the others. The tracks 303 00:18:15.279 --> 00:18:19.000 around the arrangement weren't random. They formed a distinct pattern, 304 00:18:19.519 --> 00:18:23.400 a spiral that wound inward toward the central pile ritual. 305 00:18:24.319 --> 00:18:27.079 The word came unbidden to my mind, and I couldn't 306 00:18:27.079 --> 00:18:31.079 shake it once it had taken root. These weren't random disturbances. 307 00:18:31.599 --> 00:18:36.799 They were deliberate constructions, messages of some kind. By midafternoon, 308 00:18:36.799 --> 00:18:40.400 a sense of being watched had become overwhelming. The forest, 309 00:18:40.720 --> 00:18:43.559 normally a place of comfort for me, now seemed full 310 00:18:43.559 --> 00:18:47.039 of hidden eyes. I decided to check my beaver traps 311 00:18:47.079 --> 00:18:50.319 from the previous day, then returned to the cabin. The 312 00:18:50.359 --> 00:18:54.079 first trap was empty, as was the second. At the third, 313 00:18:54.359 --> 00:18:57.440 I found something that stopped me cold. The trap had 314 00:18:57.440 --> 00:19:00.839 been sprung, but there was no beaver in it. Instead, 315 00:19:01.119 --> 00:19:05.240 the heavy steel mechanism had been carefully removed from the water, disarmed, 316 00:19:05.480 --> 00:19:09.039 and placed on the bank. Beside it was another arrangement, 317 00:19:09.519 --> 00:19:12.200 this time a pile of beaver tued sticks formed into 318 00:19:12.240 --> 00:19:16.079 a crude pyramid. No animal could have done this, not 319 00:19:16.119 --> 00:19:19.160 even a human, unless they knew exactly how to handle 320 00:19:19.200 --> 00:19:23.200 conn of bear traps, which even experienced trappers treated with caution. 321 00:19:24.160 --> 00:19:27.119 My mouth went dry. I was no longer alone in 322 00:19:27.160 --> 00:19:30.200 these woods, and whatever shared them with me was intelligent 323 00:19:30.279 --> 00:19:33.599 and deliberate in its actions. I abandoned the rest of 324 00:19:33.599 --> 00:19:36.000 my trap checks and headed straight back to the cabin, 325 00:19:36.480 --> 00:19:39.720 no longer bothering to hide my fear. The sun was 326 00:19:39.759 --> 00:19:43.920 already sinking toward the horizon, casting long blue shadows across 327 00:19:43.960 --> 00:19:47.160 the snow. I wanted to be behind the solid walls 328 00:19:47.160 --> 00:19:50.759 of the cabin before darkness fell completely. I was within 329 00:19:50.839 --> 00:19:52.880 half a mile of home when I heard movement in 330 00:19:52.880 --> 00:19:56.400 the trees to my left, branches snapping under heavy weight, 331 00:19:56.880 --> 00:20:01.240 the soft crunch of snow underfoot. I raised rifle, aiming 332 00:20:01.279 --> 00:20:05.160 into the gathering gloom of the forest. Who's there, My 333 00:20:05.240 --> 00:20:08.680 voice sounded thin and reedy in the vast silence. No 334 00:20:08.799 --> 00:20:12.240 answer came, but the movement stopped. I could feel eyes 335 00:20:12.279 --> 00:20:17.440 on me, watching, Assessing I'm armed, I called out, trying 336 00:20:17.440 --> 00:20:21.559 to sound more confident than I felt. Show yourself. For 337 00:20:21.640 --> 00:20:25.519 a long, tense moment, nothing happened. Then came a sound 338 00:20:25.799 --> 00:20:30.519 I'll never forget, a sharp, clear, whistling, almost like a bird, 339 00:20:30.599 --> 00:20:34.759 but too deliberate, too complex. It rose and fell in 340 00:20:34.839 --> 00:20:39.960 a distinct pattern, unmistakably a form of communication. I backed 341 00:20:39.960 --> 00:20:43.240 away slowly, rifles still raised, until I could turn and 342 00:20:43.319 --> 00:20:46.559 half run, half walk the remaining distance to the cabin. 343 00:20:47.359 --> 00:20:50.160 I burst through the door, slammed it behind me, and 344 00:20:50.200 --> 00:20:53.359 through the heavy wooden bar across it. Only then did 345 00:20:53.400 --> 00:20:55.720 I realize I was breathing as if I'd run miles, 346 00:20:56.319 --> 00:21:00.640 my heart hammering against my ribs. Darkness fell quick after that. 347 00:21:01.319 --> 00:21:03.920 I lit the kerosene lamps, built up the fire, and 348 00:21:03.960 --> 00:21:07.319 tried to calm myself with rational thought. There had to 349 00:21:07.359 --> 00:21:11.319 be an explanation. Perhaps another trapper had moved into the area, 350 00:21:11.759 --> 00:21:14.000 someone with an odd sense of humor and too much 351 00:21:14.000 --> 00:21:17.960 time on their hands. But the tracks and those howls, 352 00:21:18.680 --> 00:21:21.960 no human I knew could make sounds like that, I 353 00:21:22.000 --> 00:21:26.279 picked up the radio handset and tried to raise someone, anyone. 354 00:21:26.319 --> 00:21:29.279 The nearest outpost was a small weather station about one 355 00:21:29.319 --> 00:21:33.839 hundred miles to the southeast, staffed year round. I'd spoken 356 00:21:33.880 --> 00:21:36.759 to them occasionally in previous seasons when the isolation got 357 00:21:36.759 --> 00:21:40.440 to be too much. The radio crackled with static. I 358 00:21:40.519 --> 00:21:44.480 adjusted frequencies, fiddled with the tuning, but couldn't raise a response, 359 00:21:45.279 --> 00:21:48.839 just the empty hiss of dead air. This wasn't unusual. 360 00:21:49.319 --> 00:21:53.400 Radio signals were notoriously unreliable in the mountains, but tonight 361 00:21:53.799 --> 00:21:57.799 it felt ominous. I checked and rechecked the cabin's defenses. 362 00:21:58.319 --> 00:22:01.119 The door was solid oak, the bar a thick piece 363 00:22:01.119 --> 00:22:03.720 of hard wood that would take considerable force to break. 364 00:22:04.440 --> 00:22:07.640 The windows were small, designed that way to conserve heat, 365 00:22:08.160 --> 00:22:11.720 and shuddered from the inside with heavy wooden panels. The 366 00:22:11.799 --> 00:22:14.319 chimney was the only other entry point, but it was 367 00:22:14.359 --> 00:22:17.319 too narrow for anything larger than a Martin to squeeze through. 368 00:22:18.119 --> 00:22:22.200 I was secure, safe, That's what I told myself. Anyway. 369 00:22:23.160 --> 00:22:25.400 I tried to distract myself with one of the Westerns 370 00:22:25.440 --> 00:22:29.079 I'd brought, but couldn't focus on the words. They slid 371 00:22:29.079 --> 00:22:33.119 past my eyes without registering. I found myself rereading the 372 00:22:33.119 --> 00:22:37.039 same paragraph over and over, my attention constantly drawn to 373 00:22:37.039 --> 00:22:41.400 the windows, the door, the sounds of the forest outside. 374 00:22:41.559 --> 00:22:45.440 Around ten o'clock I heard it, a soft, deliberate tapping 375 00:22:45.480 --> 00:22:49.759 on the north wall of the cabin, tap tap, tap, 376 00:22:50.559 --> 00:22:54.440 then silence. I froze in my chair, book forgotten in 377 00:22:54.480 --> 00:22:58.880 my lap, ear straining. It came again, this time from 378 00:22:58.920 --> 00:23:07.160 the west wall, the same pattern, tap tap tap, testing, searching. 379 00:23:08.200 --> 00:23:10.880 I sat rigid in my chair by the fire rifle 380 00:23:10.920 --> 00:23:15.440 across my knees, listening to the methodical sounds testing. I 381 00:23:15.480 --> 00:23:20.039 thought they're testing the cabin. The tapping continued for perhaps 382 00:23:20.079 --> 00:23:25.519 twenty minutes, then stopped. What came next was worse voices, 383 00:23:26.079 --> 00:23:30.799 low guttural vocalizations just outside the walls, not quite speech, 384 00:23:31.119 --> 00:23:35.759 but not animal sounds either. A complex series of grunts, clicks, 385 00:23:36.079 --> 00:23:39.279 and what I can only describe as words without consonants. 386 00:23:40.000 --> 00:23:45.359 There were at least three distinct voices calling to each other, responding, conversing. 387 00:23:46.119 --> 00:23:49.480 They circled the cabin for hours. Occasionally one would shake 388 00:23:49.519 --> 00:23:52.920 the door violently or scrape at a window shutter. I 389 00:23:53.000 --> 00:23:55.200 kept the fire burning bright and stayed in the center 390 00:23:55.240 --> 00:23:59.119 of the room away from the walls, sleep was unthinkable. 391 00:24:00.079 --> 00:24:02.599 Time in the early hours, when the fire had burned low, 392 00:24:03.000 --> 00:24:05.680 one of them climbed onto the roof. I heard the 393 00:24:05.720 --> 00:24:08.559 heavy thud of weight settling onto the rough hewn shingles, 394 00:24:09.119 --> 00:24:11.640 then the slow, deliberate movement across the peak of the 395 00:24:11.720 --> 00:24:15.240 roof toward the chimney. I held my breath, staring at 396 00:24:15.279 --> 00:24:18.440 the wood stove, where a small but hot fire still burned. 397 00:24:19.160 --> 00:24:21.759 Would it reached down, try to find a way in 398 00:24:22.880 --> 00:24:26.119 the movement stopped directly above the chimney. For a long, 399 00:24:26.279 --> 00:24:30.039 terrible moment, nothing happened. Then a shower of snow and 400 00:24:30.039 --> 00:24:33.079 debris cascaded down the chimney, hissing as it hit the 401 00:24:33.079 --> 00:24:37.359