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August 14 2008 at 8:50 PM
David Holley 
from IP address



I had my first encounter with Bigfoot in 1971 on an island in the middle of Broken Bow Lake, north of the town of Broken Bow, Oklahoma. Up until that time I don't believe I had ever heard of the creatures, and what I saw on that May morning in 1971 made me want to become involved in the quest for these creatures.

At the time I thought the only place they had ever ben encountered was in the Pacific Northwest. I soon learned the creatures had been reported almost everywhere in the contiential United States and canada.

Over the years I researched alone. At some time when he was about 7 years of age, I began teaching my son John David all I knew about the creatures. he is now the co-founder and EXECUTIVE DIRECTOR of our research group called the TIMBERLINE BIGFOOT GROUP.

The first story in this compilation called "THE MADMAN". It's a work of fiction, as all which will appear here are. They are most definately the continuing adventures of William "Dutch" Boone and his son Jack.

While they are themselves works of fiction, many who read these stories and who frequent the TIMBERLINE BIGFOOT GROUP'S forum THE SHADOWS IN THE FOREST know where much of the information comes from. In fact I've made a career out of trying to share my information. Sometimes it's worked, often it hasn't.

Dutch and Jack are real. Any resemblance to John and myself are intentional. All other characters who appear in these stories are compliations of many personalities and any resemblance to an actual person or persons is unintentional.

The Boones are my Sackett family. I'm planning on having them around and the members of their future team of researchers for some time. I hope you enjoy their adventures.

Take care,
David Gary Holley


The old man lit a cigarette and kelt on his knee and looked into the deep, dry creek bed. Below him lying in various piles were the tops and bottoms of female swim suits. A man's sportscoat and tie lay in the bottom of the creek bed also. The old man knew he might be looking at a crime scene, but what to do about it? there were no bodies. Only discarded clothing.

[Perhaps he surmised, there had been a wild party here and the kids had stripped their clothing off. He knew kids were capable of doing things like this. However, something continued to eat at his core. His many years as a correctional officer taught him to be observant and to trust his instinct. Could he and should he trust his instincts now?]


The young man searching the ground looked up and saw his father kneeling and looking into the creek bed.
"He's working something out in his head" he thought; but what.

"Padre?" The younger man asked. "What you got going over there?" The older man looked up and smiled.
"What makes you think I've got anything over here?"
"Because you're smoking a cigarette. You never light up unless somethings on your mind."

The older man nodded and motioned his son over to him. He pointed to the discarded suits in the creek bed.

"What" he asked quietly, "do you make of this?"

The younger man looked into the bed. He frowned.

"It looks like trouble."
The father smiled a tight smile which was neither warm nor was it meant to be.

"You know son, I thought at first I was looking at some kind of orgy or something else equally kinky. You know, some rich, young, good lookin' stud brought several of his lady friends out here and they partied. Got a little drunk..."

"Or high on drugs."
"Or got high on drugs, and threw all their clothes into this creek bed."
"I'm not sure son, but I think I see some kind of brown stains on some of those clothes. If it's what I think it is, we need to contact the state police."
"You think those brown stains are blood."

The older man drew deeply on his cigarette and exhaled slowly. He crushed the remains of the cigarette out and looked into his sons eyes.

"Yeah. I hope it's not, but it's a possibility."

Jack Boone looked into the creek bed studying the scene and quietly muttered.
"UH-huh. My sentiments exactly."
"Dad, we came out to this lake to look for Bigfoot sign, and we step right into what may have been a mass murder."
"Well, I'd like to make sure of what we're looki' at before we go running to the authorities."
"So, I guess one of us needs to go down there and and have a closer look."
"NO, both of us need to. Get the pistols out of the truck, and we'll also need some rope and a camera."


The man on the opposite hillside smiled. He had returned to collect his victims clothing, and had been surprised to see some old codger looking over his "secret stash" of two piece swim suits, and the sports coat belonging to the guy he'd killed also.

He lifted his 30-06 and looked through the scope. Yep, some guy about fifty and a younger guy about thirty. They looked enough alike to probably be father and son. Well, he thought why not. Two of the women he'd killed had been mother and daughter. He chuckled to himself as he remembered how the young looking mother had pleaded with him to take her and not her daughter. Her daughter was only seventeen with a full life ahead of her.

[Mom had been a very vibrant thirty-eight]

The other girls had pleaded with him. Some offering their bodies and services if he'd spare them. One tried to give him all her money and even write him a check.

[Stupid females he'd thought at the time. Not only am I going to do whatever I want with you, but after I kill you all, I'm going to take what money and jewels you have anyway.]

He'd kept them alive for three days. Oh, the boy was the first to die. couldn't have any competition lounging around could he. He'd led the boy a mile or so into the forest and had executed him with a shot to the back of the head. he'd stripped the body and brought the boys coat back and tossed it into the creek bed. Tomorrow he told himself, he'd go back and bury the boy.

[Couldn't leave any loose ends lying around]

He'd been surprised the next morning when he had gone back to bury the boy and found the body missing. He'd looked around the area, and had found what appeared to be the barefooted tracks of some "mountain man". The boy was dead. Of that he was sure. The missing body concerned him, but he theorized, maybe the "mountain man" had a taste for human. It had happened before. Some guy returning to the ways of the wild. Loosing his humanity and resorting to eating anything available. The tracks were large, but not necessarily THAT large.

During that day and the next day, the preditor would take the women out and rape them. Following the rape, he would execute them with no conscience. Each time he returned with a new victim he would find the body of the previous victim missing.

["Damn freak", he would think, "stealin' from me. I hope I run into this freak and when I do, I'm gonna gut 'im like a fish."]

Now he had this old man and this younger man in his sights. He couldn't afford to let them live. [But] maybe he could have a little fun with them before he blew them away. Maybe he would take their bodies in and report he'd seen them kill all these little girls and one of their Momma. He might even be a hero afterward.

[He could he reasoned, insinuate they were serial killers.]

As he began to plan the stalk he had in mind for them; another was stalking him


Just as the man creature brought his gun up, the Sasquatch noticed the two others on the opposite side of the creek; desending into the creek. It had no concept of what the two were doing, but it did know another had intentions of harming them. It itself had seen the man creature kill both the male and his females. This had angered the creature. He was not above killing helpless creatures himself, but it was always in fair combat, or at the end of a sucessful stalk.

After this man creature had killed the young male, the Sasquatch had removed the body. It had thought about feeding on it, but for some reason, he had decided it would not taste of the man creature. After all, except for being much smaller and with less hair, it did look a little like itself.

Instead of feeding on the boys body, the Sasquatch had found a secret place where others of his kind had hidden the bodies of their dead. The man creatures remains would be safe from other creatures here. For here, the Sasquatch guarded their dead with a vengence.

The following two days he watched and became enraged as the females were mated with and them killed. What sort of creature would kill its females after mating with them? This was irrational actions. It was wrong. This man must be killed himself before others were harmed.

[Including any Sasquatch which crossed his path; and although the Sasquatch knew his kind could take care of themselves; what if one of their young were to be seen by this creature?]

Just as he had done with the body of the young male, the Sasquatch did with the females. When he reasoned the mankiller was through killing, he began his stalk.


As the old man and his son desended the rope into the creek bed, the old man caught movement out of the corner of his right eys.

"Yes Padre?"
"We've got something or someone watchin' us on the hillside behind and off to our right."
"Man or creature?"
"Hard to say, but we need to be ready for anything."
"It's only a few more feet Padre."

A shot rang out a bullet smashed into the creek bank opposite the old man. Both men let go of their ropes and fell the remaining distance. They moved with speed to the embankment from where the shot had come from. Another shot rang out and dirt flew once more near their feet.

"Hey!" The younger Boone yelled. "What the hell are you doin'?"

They heard a chuckle and a raspy voice called out. "Why I'm goin' to kill ya'll."

"Just like you did with these others?" The old man shouted. There was silence. Then came "No, not like the others. I ain't no homosexual." The unseen shooter began to laugh and shouted, "But I did stay at a Holiday Inn one time." There was more loud laughter. Jack Boone looked over to his father.

"Dad...he's crazy."
"Yep, and he's got us pinned down." The older Boone shouted out to their unseen attacker.

"Hey buddy...you got us all wrong. We're not lookin' for any trouble. We were simply lookin' for sign of Bigfoot activity..."
"Bigfoot!" Replied the raspy voice, "In Southeast Oklahoma. Don't try to kid me you bastards. There ain't no such critter."

The madman began firing as quickly as he could work the bolt on his rifle.

"Son, do you see 'im?"
"No. I think he's too far back in the trees."
"Well boy, we're goin' to have to do something soon, or eventually he'll move around and pick us off."


[Bigfoot! What kind of excuse was that for a man to use to keep from being killed?]

The madman spit a stream of tobacco off to his side. He had these two pinned down, and when darkness fell, he'd sneak into a better position and finish the job.

[Bigfoot indeed! What did these two take him for? An idiot? He eased back under some brush. Something large moved off through the brush to his right. "Easy ile son. That old farts got you seeing and hearing monsters."]

Out of anger or frustration the madman ripped off a shot narrowly missing the younger man when it ricocheted off a rock in the creek bed. The gunman caught movement out of the corner of his right eye again. He swung around and fired. He smiled as he heard the bullet slam home into flesh. There was a grunt and whatever he'd hit moved away farther away into the brush.

"Ole boy just got too damn curious for his own good. Serves him right. Probably go off and die now."]

"Padre. he shot again, but not at us."
"Uh-huh. I'm kind of worried about what or who he shot at then."

Before the young man could answer, there were three loud knocks.


Far in the distance there were three more knocks. Then to the amazement of the old man and his son they heard what they would describe as a low moan which grew in its intensity. The moaning sound was answered as well as the tree knocks.

"Old man!" The madman shouted. "You want to live, you tell me what that was!"
"I suspect you shot a Bigfoot a few moments ago, and its called for backup. You hear me?"
"I hear ya. I'll be pullin' out now. IF there's really a Bigfoot in these parts, and IF I shot one of 'em I ain't gonna be here when they reach the two of you. Adios suckers!"

The two men sat in silence. They could hear movement in the brush above them on both sides. The younger Boone commented he could hear what he believed were teeth popping. They heard a roar, and then a scream which could only have come from the man with the gun.

Dutch Boone turned to his son.

"I don't think we have to worry about being shot ay again."
"Nope. Let's try to get out of this creek bed, get to the truck and get the hell out of Dodge."

Slowly they began their climb back to the top of the creek. Several times they heard low growls, and then what might have been some kind of grumble which neither could make out, and the growls would stop.
They reached the top and began making their way to their pickup. Lying against the tailgate was a 30-06. It's barrel bent completely over.

Jack Boone removed his cigarettes from his jacket pocket and lit one. He studied the gun, and handed it to his father.

"A gift? Or...a warning?"
"I'll take it as a gift. Put the gun in the truck and lets get the hell out of here."


When the madman began to leave the scene of his wickedness, he discovered he was being followed. There was no way he surmised that the two in the creek bed could have climbed out and trailed him. No, there had to be another. The moans, the tree knocks [if that's what they had been] had simply unnerved him.

[There are no such things as Bigfoot or Sasquatch. This was Oklahoma, not the Pacific Northwest] He paused to catch his breath. His old Studebaker was still parked a mile or so awat.

[What was that! Something moved onto the trail behind him.]

Slowly he turned and observed a creature out of his worse nightmares. The creature stood over eight foot tall. The man only guessed at its weight, but it looked like a giant brown Gorilla! [But] a Gorilla which moved upright. As he watched it he observed the creature drop to all fours angrowl.

[Good God he thought. This thing is goin' to attack me.]

He turned and began running. As he ran he became aware the creature was no longer following. He stopped again. There was his car parked exactly where he'd parked it in the clearing. He'd made it.

Then his nightmare became a reality. From out of the brush, scant yards away another creature more than eight foot tall and close to seven hundred pounds came towards him. Death and destruction in his face.
He raised his gun to shoot, but the massive creature jerked it from his hands. Its eyes glowed red in the gathering dusk. He screamed and as he did, the giant ape-like creature broke his neck. The last thing the madman saw as he was dying was a splash of blood upon the shoulder of the creature.

[The man smelt bad. The creatures tribe had gathered and there were thought of eating him. The dominate male, however, wrinkled its nose and uttered a series of growls. He tossed the body into the brush just as you or eye might toss an empty coke can.

One of the younger Sasquatch picked up the mans gun and growled. The wounded male took the gun and bent the barrel with no effort. He was about to toss the gun away also when he heard growls and chattering. He barred his teeth and moved through the brush. It took him no time to find the pickup. He saw the two men. One young, one old moving through the brush towards their pickup. The creature began chattering. he was trying to tell the two men they were free to leave this territory, and to take the madmans gun. Never return.
He then stepped into the shadows and watched the men emerge from the brush. They spied the rifle and examined it. Although he could not understand their chatter, he understood their body language well. They understood. For like the Bigfoot...they were also hunters.]

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