Bigfoot: A Sniper’s Story

Bigfoot: A Sniper’s Story

That night he again had a cold camp and had drifted off to sleep when sometime during the very early morning he was awaken by an elk startled by some heavy animal running through the grass.  The sound was frightening as something had ambushed and caught the elk and it was fighting for its life trying to get away and bleating in a terrified manner.  Then just as quickly as it started it stopped and the quiet sounds of normal insect life slowly returned.

Using every sense he had except sound, Dale tried to get some information that told him what was happening.  All he could discern was the sudden attack had happened less than fifty meters away, between his position and the cliff.  It was in the darkest part of the valley with the moon hidden by the ridgeline.  He could do nothing but wait and be alert to any movement.  Instinct had taken over and muscle memory had automatically taken his prized rifle off safety while moving it into position for any action required.

Remaining as low to the ground as possible and frozen in place he waited and listened for anything out of place.  Then he heard it, a low whistle coming from the direction of the attack followed by another one several meters to his right.  A cold chill went right through him as he realized it was the same sound he had heard less than a year earlier on the cliff where a group of bighorn sheep had been stampeded.  Whatever it was, there were two of them and now he could hear a light footfall as something heavy walked through the thick grass.

The sound of heavy, quiet footsteps passed within ten meters of his position.  Then they stopped as another whistle came from whatever it was.  This time it was a sharp and quick high pitch sound followed by a low pitched one from the other creature.  When both were together they headed down the valley with very little sound other than their quiet footsteps.  After a few moments, Dale could smell the heavy musky odor of whatever the creatures were that had passed by.  It was a cross between a wet dog, skunk, rotting vegetables and fresh blood.

He decided to wait until first light before moving out of the area as he really didn’t know what he was up against or if there were more of the heavy footed creatures loitering about.  Through the rest of the night there would be just the slightest whiff of blood in the air.  It was coming from the area he heard the attack earlier, something had been killed.

Suddenly he wanted to move out and realized he was in the first phase of panic and had to pull his emotions back and wait for first light.  It was the same feeling he had when in his first firefight and when they were out on a recon when the enemy knew they were there, but didn’t really know exactly where.  Only then he had his best friend Gary Elliot with him as a spotter.  Now he was alone and for the first time thankful Cindy was sleeping soundly in a hotel room instead of lying in the grass with him.

It was always darkest just before dawn and when the predators were most active.  But this morning nothing seemed wrong or dangerous.  Dale did everything to detect the presence of something moving but could find nothing.  As the morning light brightened the day, he had the feeling he had just made a classic mistake of allowing his imagination to run away from him.  As he had a bite of jerky for breakfast, he thought the entire scene was probably nothing more than a bull elk defending his ladies.  The bull probably just reacted to a rival and what he heard was a quick skirmish between two bull elks and the movement away from the encounter.

When it was full light he was ready to move out and still using the ghillie suit began the long trip back to the truck.  He was again happy to be moving through the valley and enjoying the colors of the early morning, until he walked right up to the kill site where something large had died.  Now he knew where the odor of blood he had smelled all night came from.  After checking the area for anything else that might be moving about, he used the camera to document everything, including the same massive footprints he had seen the previous week and path the creature used as it sprung out of the grass where it had been lying in wait.  The creature had been lying down and made a very large impression in the grass and soil.  He could make out massive hand prints as well as the shape where the beast lay down.  The elk tracks were from a medium sized male and it wasn’t fast enough to move more than six meters before the beast captured it.  The ambush and kill had taken no more than four seconds.  None of this was a bear!

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Make sure to read some of the other books written by Ken Foster.