Tribal Bigfoot – Comments on Chapter Ten: “Humboldt County”
Book review by Linda Martin – © 2009
Reading group homepage for this book: Tribal Bigfoot
Re: Chapter Ten of Tribal Bigfoot by David Paulides, “Humboldt County”:
I love that David Paulides had so much time (and money) to travel and spend time doing research and meeting people. But I like to check things out for myself, so after reading his notes about Lucy Thompson’s book, published in 1916, a source of information on the “Indian Devil” aka “Oh-ma-ha” – I requested a copy from the Siskiyou County Library. Lucy Thompson was a Yurok Indian… Yurok meaning “downriver” compared to the local natives here in the Orleans/Happy Camp area who are Karuks, meaning “upriver people.”
A few days ago I received the book through a library transfer from another city in our county, and turned to Chapter IX: The Indian Devil, page 129. Almost everything that was written about the Indian Devil in Lucy’s book was retold in Chapter Ten of Tribal Bigfoot, so you might think my quest was a waste of time . . . but then I kept reading further into the chapter, amazed at her remarks about wars in Europe compared to the peacefulness of Native Americans. I found this: “Tears and love, love and tears, sweetly mingled when infant and adult meet in one great brotherhood of forgiveness. Always thus, since time began, someone must die a martyr for the beginning of every cause; and it has ever been thus, since the dawn of history, among all races and nations: the heathen, the barbarian and the civilized nations of the world.” (Pg. 132 of To the American Indian
This says to me that before humans and Bigfoot can come together there will be martyrs… and indeed there have been some. Bigfoot has been shot at. Some perhaps killed. Recently an esteemed reader of this blog sent me a link to an article on the Oregon Bigfoot Blog (Autumn Williams) with YouTube renditions of the Art Bell “Bugs” interview. I remembered hearing this interview when it was first aired, years ago. “Bugs” was a false name for a man who claimed to have been one of three hunters who killed two Bigfoots and buried them. Fascinating interview… “Bugs” on Art Bell – Did he really shoot and bury Bigfoot? I listened to Bugs on several occasions and always felt he was very credible. He said he and his hunting buddies killed a male Bigfoot thinking it was a bear… then after realizing their mistake, they were charged at by a grief-stricken female Bigfoot so they killed her too. Martyrs, perhaps?
Earlier in Tribal Bigfoot there was a section on Bigfoot killings – including a report David Paulides got from a former Forest Service employee who met a sixteen-year-old hunter who claimed to have shot a Bigfoot. But killings go both ways. Theodore Roosevelt told the story of Bauman, whose hunting partner was killed by a Bigfoot. To read between the lines of Lucy Thompson’s report on the Indian Devil, the Yuroks were very paranoid of contact with Oh-ma-ha: “When the Indians would go on their hunting and camping trips into the mountains, as soon as they heard an owl screech or hoot, they would stop and listen, and try to distinguish if it was an Indian devil imitating an owl or the cry of a wild animal. The Indians would stop at once, kindle a fire, and hallo; this was given as a warning to the devils that they were awake and ready to fight them if necessary.” (Pg. 130 of To the American Indian: Reminiscences of a Yurok Woman
I’m impressed enough with Lucy’s writing to want to buy my own copy and read the entire book, but that will wait for another time as today I’m reviewing Tribal Bigfoot by David Paulides, Chapter Ten, all about Humboldt County Bigfoot sightings. He claims that Humboldt County is the “Bigfoot Capitol of California” and the chapter was quite thick.
There are many credible and intriguing Bigfoot sighting accounts in this chapter: a woman who saw one walking through her front yard; a young boy who saw one when he had to unplug a water line, a two hour climb uphill from his home; a waitress who saw a Bigfoot on the Bigfoot Scenic Byway between Willow Creek and Hoopa in 1987; another woman who saw a Bigfoot enthusiastically chasing a motorcycle her son was riding; an ambulance driver who happened upon a Bigfoot on Highway 299 west of Willow Creek at 3 in the morning. These are all very credible witnesses and the stories written by David Paulides are detailed and entertaining.
The chapter also contains an update on some Hoopa sightings including hair sample DNA results and wonderful forensic sketches by Harvey Pratt. There’s also a profile of Al Hodgson, long-time Willow Creek resident and witness to the Bluff Creek Bigfoot footprints back in the 1960s. He is the curator of the Willow Creek Bigfoot Museum.
…
Note: I’m behind my self-imposed schedule for reviewing this book thanks to my injury and a trip out of town to Mt. Shasta. I have three more chapters to cover in this book before I go on to the next one, Bigfoot Sasquatch Evidence by Dr. Grover Krantz. I expect that book will go slowly as well because it is full of scientific information. I am a slow reader but that will not stop me. It may mean my reading of Dr. Krantz’s book will continue into November. This may pose a problem for me because I’m writing another novel (with Bigfoot in it) during November (I always participate in NaNoWriMo.) So, my reviews may be slow, but they’ll be posted. Get the books and read ahead of me if you like… I’ll get there sooner or later.
August 21, 2008
Modoc National Forest Bigfoot Sighting – 1980s – Northern California
I received this fascinating story in email a few days ago. The contributor wants to remain anonymous.
“I have a good story I’d like to contribute, file under anonymous. I can’t be sure if everyone is familiar with Teddy Roosevelt’s story from the Pacific northwest but it has some similarities. . . .
“My story begins with a friend a few years older than me. He has a brother approx. some 10 yrs. older and this took place in the early 80s. He was from Redding and his older brother always wanted to be a Marine. His older brother had 2 close friends who went into the Marines with him; these guys didn’t see combat and were in the Marines primarily for training and soon (couple years later) were back home. They promised each other for the rest of their lives they would venture into the deep forest for approx 10 days a year, packing everything they needed. 4 days in, 2 days rest, 4 days back, give or take. This was the 3rd year and they chose different places each time.
“This story takes place in Modoc Forest. They drove their jeep as far as they could, camoed it out of sight and went in dressed like marines, carrying assault rifles and were looking for something to unleash fire on. They said they had a strange feeling they couldn’t explain, like they weren’t alone and were being watched. They pressed on for a day or two and the feeling got stronger. They report an eerie lack of wildlife or sounds. In fact they didn’t hear or see anything (alive).
“On approx. the third day they all came to the same conclusion, they wanted to leave. That’s strange in and of itself; these guys don’t quit and run from anything and none objected to the idea. They double timed it back to the jeep, uncovered it and started to drive. For the entirety of their trip no animals were seen or heard.
“Just as they get under way in the jeep, one man in back with an assault rifle and also passenger heavily armed, they notice something just inside the brush/tree line making pace with the vehicle. Whatever it was is reported to be at least 7-8 feet tall, looking only at them, and not where it’s going for 1/3 mile, obviously on 2 legs and doing about 15mph in the bush. They all made eye contact with it although the driver only briefly. All report a sinking feeling, mortified and demoralized. The thought of being offensive or throwing down any fire wasn’t there, actually their rationale was lost during the encounter.
“This is the best part: they all report huge red glowing eyes that pierce your soul. Shortly after it vanished back into the woods. They didn’t speak for weeks after, they don’t tell this story to anyone. My friend hounded his brother for weeks to tell him what was wrong, i feel privileged to know. I’ve only told this story a hand full of times. What was it i wonder, big foot, chupacabra, predator, a fawn, mothman, a skunk monkey?
“Fact, after the incident these marines seem to be dealing with some PTSD; did it take their souls? They don’t go into the woods anymore, they’re not who they once were and I’d say scared of the dark is an understatement, although the driver isn’t quite as bad off. There are things in this world no man should know lest he learn the hard way and there’s no going back.”
May 2, 2008
Theodore Roosevelt’s Bigfoot Story
This is an excerpt from Theodore Roosevelt’s 1893 book, The Wilderness Hunter. In this excerpt he wrote about a Sasquatch encounter near the Salmon River in Idaho.
Frontiersmen are not, as a rule, apt to be very superstitious. They lead lives too hard and practical, and have too little imagination in things spiritual and supernatural. I have heard but few ghost stories while living on the frontier, and those few were of a perfectly commonplace and conventional type. But I once listened to a goblin-story, which rather impressed me.
A grizzled, weather beaten old mountain hunter, named Bauman who, born and had passed all of his life on the Frontier, told it the story to me. He must have believed what he said, for he could hardly repress a shudder at certain points of the tale; but he was of German ancestry, and in childhood had doubtless been saturated with all kinds of ghost and goblin lore. So that many fearsome superstitions were latent in his mind; besides, he knew well the stories told by the Indian medicine men in their winter camps, of the snow-walkers, and the specters, [spirits, ghosts & apparitions] the formless evil beings that haunt the forest depths, and dog and waylay the lonely wanderer who after nightfall passes through the regions where they lurk. It may be that when overcome by the horror of the fate that befell his friend, and when oppressed by the awful dread of the unknown, he grew to attribute, both at the time and still more in remembrance, weird and elfin traits to what was merely some abnormally wicked and cunning wild beast; but whether this was so or not, no man can say.
When the event occurred, Bauman was still a young man, and was trapping with a partner among the mountains dividing the forks of the Salmon from the head of Wisdom River. Not having had much luck, he and his partner determined to go up into a particularly wild and lonely pass through which ran a small stream said to contain many beavers. The pass had an evil reputation because the year before a solitary hunter who had wandered into it was slain, seemingly by a wild beast, the half eaten remains being afterwards found by some mining prospectors who had passed his camp only the night before.The memory of this event, however, weighted very lightly with the two trappers, who were as adventurous and hardy as others of their kind. They took their two lean mountain ponies to the foot of the pass where they left them in an open beaver meadow, the rocky timber-clad ground being from there onward impracticable for horses. They then struck out on foot through the vast, gloomy forest, and in about four hours reached a little open glade where they concluded to camp, as signs of game were plenty.
There was still an hour or two of daylight left, and after building a brush lean-to and throwing down and opening their packs, they started upstream. The country was very dense and hard to travel through, as there was much down timber, although here and there the somber woodland was broken by small glades of mountain grass. At dusk they again reached camp. The glade in which it was pitched was not many yards wide, the tall, close-set pines and firs rising round it like a wall. On one side was a little stream, beyond which rose the steep mountains slope, covered with the unbroken growth of evergreen forest.They were surprised to find that during their absence something, apparently a bear, had visited camp, and had rummaged about among their things, scattering the contents of their packs, and in sheer wantonness destroying their lean-to. The footprints of the beast were quite plain, but at first they paid no particular heed to them, busying themselves with rebuilding the lean-to, laying out their beds and stores and lighting the fire.While Bauman was making ready supper, it being already dark, his companion began to examine the tracks more closely, and soon took a brand from the fire to follow them up, where the intruder had walked along a game trail after leaving the camp. When the brand flickered out, he returned and took another, repeating his inspection of the footprints very closely. Coming back to the fire, he stood by it a minute or two, peering out into the darkness, and suddenly remarked, “Bauman, that bear has been walking on two legs.”
Bauman laughed at this, but his partner insisted that he was right, and upon again examining the tracks with a torch, they certainly did seem to be made by but two paws or feet. However, it was too dark to make sure. After discussing whether the footprints could possibly be those of a human being, and coming to the conclusion that they could not be, the two men rolled up in their blankets, and went to sleep under the lean-to. At midnight Bauman was awakened by some noise, and sat up in his blankets. As he did so his nostrils were struck by a strong, wild-beast odor, and he caught the loom of a great body in the darkness at the mouth of the lean-to. Grasping his rifle, he fired at the vague, threatening shadow, but must have missed, for immediately afterwards he heard the smashing of the under wood as the thing, whatever it was, rushed off into the impenetrable blackness of the forest and the night.
After this the two men slept but little, sitting up by the rekindled fire, but they heard nothing more. In the morning they started out to look at the few traps they had set the previous evening and put out new ones. By an unspoken agreement they kept together all day, and returned to camp towards evening. On nearing it they saw, hardly to their astonishment that the lean-to had again been torn down. The visitor of the preceding day had returned, and in wanton malice had tossed about their camp kit and bedding, and destroyed the shanty. The ground was marked up by its tracks, and on leaving the camp it had gone along the soft earth by the brook. The footprints were as plain as if on snow, and, after a careful scrutiny of the trail, it certainly did seem as if, whatever the thing was, it had walked off on but two legs.
The men, thoroughly uneasy, gathered a great heap of dead logs and kept up a roaring fire throughout the night, one or the other sitting on guard most of the time. About midnight the thing came down through the forest opposite, across the brook, and stayed there on the hillside for nearly an hour. They could hear the branches crackle as it moved about, and several times it uttered a harsh, grating, long-drawn moan, a peculiarly sinister sound. Yet it did not venture near the fire. In the morning the two trappers, after discussing the strange events of the last 36 hours, decided that they would shoulder their packs and leave the valley that afternoon. They were the more ready to do this because in spite of seeing a good deal of game sign they had caught very little fur. However it was necessary first to go along the line of their traps and gather them, and this they started out to do. All the morning they kept together, picking up trap after trap, each one empty. On first leaving camp they had the disagreeable sensation of being followed. In the dense spruce thickets they occasionally heard a branch snap after they had passed; and now and then there were slight rustling noises among the small pines to one side of them.
At noon they were back within a couple of miles of camp. In the high, bright sunlight their fears seemed absurd to the two armed men, accustomed as they were, through long years of lonely wandering in the wilderness, to face every kind of danger from man, brute or element. There were still three beaver traps to collect from a little pond in a wide ravine near by. Bauman volunteered to gather these and bring them in, while his companion went ahead to camp and made ready the packs.
On reaching the pond Bauman found three beavers in the traps, one of which had been pulled loose and carried into a beaver house. He took several hours in securing and preparing the beaver, and when he started homewards he marked, with some uneasiness, how low the sun was getting. As he hurried toward camp, under the tall trees, the silence and desolation of the forest weighted on him. His feet made no sound on the pine needles and the slanting sunrays, striking through among the straight trunks, made a gray twilight in which objects at a distance glimmered indistinctly. There was nothing to break the gloomy stillness which, when there is no breeze, always broods over these somber primeval forests. At last he came to the edge of the little glade where the camp lay and shouted as he approached it, but got no answer. The campfire had gone out, though the thin blue smoke was still curling upwards.
Near it lay the packs wrapped and arranged. At first Bauman could see nobody; nor did he receive an answer to his call. Stepping forward he again shouted, and as he did so his eye fell on the body of his friend, stretched beside the trunk of a great fallen spruce. Rushing towards it the horrified trapper found that the body was still warm, but that the neck was broken, while there were four great fang marks in the throat. The footprints of the unknown beast-creature, printed deep in the soft soil, told the whole story. The unfortunate man, having finished his packing, had sat down on the spruce log with his face to the fire, and his back to the dense woods, to wait for his companion. While thus waiting, his monstrous assailant, which must have been lurking in the woods, waiting for a chance to catch one of the adventurers unprepared, came silently up from behind, walking with long noiseless steps and seemingly still on two legs. Evidently unheard, it reached the man, and broke his neck by wrenching his head back with its fore paws, while it buried its teeth in his throat. It had not eaten the body, but apparently had romped and gamboled around it in uncouth, ferocious glee, occasionally rolling over and over it; and had then fled back into the soundless depths of the woods.
Bauman, utterly unnerved and believing that the creature with which he had to deal was something either half human or half devil, some great goblin-beast, abandoned everything but his rifle and struck off at speed down the pass, not halting until he reached the beaver meadows where the hobbled ponies were still grazing. Mounting, he rode onwards through the night, until beyond reach of pursuit.”
What follows is another version of the same story. I believe it may be an earlier version that was since edited to include more information.
It was told (to me) by a grizzled, weather-beaten old mountain hunter, named Bauman, who was born and had passed all his life on the frontier. He must have believed what he said, for he could hardly repress a shudder at certain points of the tales.
When the event occurred Bauman was still a young man, and was trapping with a partner among the mountains dividing the forks of the Salmon from the head of Wisdom River. Not having had much luck, he and his partner determined to go up into a particularly wild and lonely pass through which ran a small stream said to contain many beaver. The pass had an evil reputation because the year before a solitary hunter who had wandered into it was there slain, seemingly by a wild beast, the half-eaten remains being afterwards found by some mining prospectors who had passed his camp only the night before.
The memory of this event, however, weighed very lightly with the two trappers, who were as adventurous and hardy as others of their kind… They then struck out on foot through the vast, gloomy forest, and in about 4 hours reached a little open glade where they concluded to camp, as signs of game were plenty.There was still an hour or two of daylight left, and after building a brush lean-to and throwing down and opening their packs, they started up stream.
At dusk they again reached They were surprised to find that during their absence something, apparently a bear. had visited camp, and had rummaged about among their things, scattering the contents of their packs, and in sheer wantonness destroying their lean-to. The footprints of the beast were quite plain, but at first they paid no particular heed to them, busying themselves with rebuilding the lean-to, laying out their beds and stores, and lighting the fire.
While Bauman was making ready supper, it being already dark, his companion began to examine the tracks more closely, and soon took a brand from the fire to follow them up, where the intruder had walked along a game trail after leaving the camp. . . . Coming back to the fire, he stood by it a minute or two, peering out into the darkness, and suddenly remarked: ”Bauman, that bear has been walking on two legs.” Bauman laughed at this, but his partner insisted that he was right, and upon again examining the tracks with a torch, they certainly did seem to be made by but two paws, or feet. However, it was too dark to make sure. After discussing whether the footprints could possibly be those of a human being, and coming to the conclusion that they could not be, the two men rolled up in their blankets, and went to sleep under the lean-to.
At midnight Bauman was awakened by some noise, and sat up in his blankets. As he did so his nostrils were struck by a strong, wild-beast odor, and he caught the loom of a great body in the darkness at the mouth of the lean-to. Grasping his rifle, he fired at the vague, threatening shadow, but must have missed, for immediately afterwards he heard the smashing of the underwood as the thing, whatever it was, rushed off into the impenetrable blackness of the forest and the night.
After this the two men slept but little, sitting up by the rekindled fire, but they heard nothing more. In the morning they started out to look at the few traps they had set the previous evening and put out new ones. By an unspoken agreement they kept together all day, and returned to camp towards evening.
On nearing it they saw, hardly to their astonishment, that the lean-to had been again torn down. The visitor of the preceding day had returned, and in wanton malice had tossed about their camp kit and bedding, and destroyed the shanty. The ground was marked up by its tracks, and on leaving the camp it had gone along the soft earth by the brook, where the footprints were as plain as if on snow! and, after a careful scrutiny of the trail, it certainly did seem as lf, whatever the thing was. it had walked off on but two legs.
The men, thoroughly uneasy, gathered a great heap of dead logs, and kept up a roaring fire throughout the night, one or the other sitting on guard most of the time. About midnight the thing came down through the forest opposite, across the brook, and stayed there on the hill-side for nearly an hour. They could hear the branches crackle as it moved about, and several times it uttered a harsh, grating, long-drawn moan, a peculiarly sinister sound. Yet it did not venture near the fire.
In the morning the two trappers, after discussing the strange events of the last 36 hours, decided that they would shoulder their packs and leave the valley that afternoon. . .
All the morning they kept together, picking up trap after trap, each one empty. On first leaving camp they had the disagreeable sensation of being followed. In the dense spruce thickets they occasionally heard a branch snap after they had passed ; and now and then there were slight rustling noises among the small pines to one side of them.
At noon they were back within a couple of giles of camp. In the high, bright sunlight their fears seemed absurd to the two armed men, accustomed as they were, through long years of lonely wandering in the wilderness to face every kind of danger from man, brute, or element. There were still three beaver traps to collect from a little pond in a wide ravine near by. Bauman volunteered to gather these and bring them in, while his companion went ahead to camp and made ready the packs.
Reaching the pond Bauman found 3 beavers in the traps, One of which had been pulled loose and carried into a beaver house. He took several hours in securing and preparing the beaver, and when he started homewards he marked, with some uneasiness how low the sun was getting.
At last he came to the edge of the little glade where the camp lay, and shouted as he approached it, but got no answer. The camp fire had gone out, though the thin blue smoke was still curling up wards. Near it lay the packs wrapped and arranged. At first Bauman see nobody; nor did he receive an answer to his call.
Stepping forward he again shouted, and as he did so his eye fell On the body of his friend, stretched beside the trunk of a great fallen spruce. Rushing towards it the horrified trapper found that the body was still warm, but that the neck was broken, while there were four great fang Darks in the throat.
The footprints of the unknown beast-creature, printed deep in the soft soil, told the whole story.
The unfortunate man, having finished his packing, had sat down on the spruce log with his face to the fire, and his back to the dense woods, to wait for his companion, …. It had not eaten the body, but apparently had romped and gambolled round it in uncouth, ferocious glee, occasionally rolling over and over it; and had then fled back into the soundless depths of the woods.
Bauman, utterly unnerved, and believing that the creature with which he had to deal was something either half human or half devil, some great goblin-beast, abandoned everything but his rifle and struck off a speed down the pass, not halting until he reached the beaver meadows where the hobbled ponies were still grazing. Mounting, he rode onwards through the night, until far beyond the reach of pursuit.
There are many other States in the United States that have reported giant creatures that roam about their mountain wildernesses.However, I do not have enough verified information to fully go into it at the present time. Anyway, that would be another book.
