Posted On: August 20, 2023

This story was collected by Peter Byrne from Missionary Father Anthony Terhaar who personally knew the kidnap victim, Native trapper, Muchalat Harry. The year was 1928.

"Late one autumn Muchalat Harry set off for the woods, with his traps and camping gear.

His plan was to set out a trap line and stay in the woods for several months.

He headed for his favorite hunting area, the Conuma River, at the head of Tlupana Inlet.

From Nootka he paddled his own canoe to the mouth of the Conuma.

There he cached the canoe and headed upstream on foot.

Approximately twelve miles upstream he made his base camp and, after building himself a lean-to, started to put out his trap line.

One night, while wrapped in his blankets and clad only in his underwear, he was suddenly picked up by a huge male Bigfoot and carried off into the hills.

He was not carried very far, probably a distance of about two or three miles, at the most.

When daylight came he was able to see that he was in a sort of camp, under a high rock shelf and surrounded by some twenty Bigfoot.

They were of all sexes and sizes.

For some time, they stood around him and stared at him.

The males to the front of the curious group females behind them and young ones to the rear.

Muchalat Harry was frightened at first and his fear grew to terror when he noticed, he said, the large number of bones lying around the campsite.

When he saw these he was convinced that the Bigfeet were going to eat him.

The Bigfeet did not harm him in any way.

Occasionally one came forward and touched him, as if feeling him, and when they discovered that his "skin" was loose, it was in fact his woolen underwear, several came forward and pulled at it gently.

While they looked at him and examined him, Muchalat Harry sat with his back to the rock wall and did not move.

He was cold and hungry, but his thoughts were only on escape.

Some time in the late afternoon, curiosity on the part of the Bigfeet seemed to slacken and with most of the Bigfeet out of camp, probably food-gathering he thought, there came the opportunity that he needed.

He leapt to his feet and ran for his life, never looking back.

He ran downhill, toward where he guessed the river to be and sure enough, he soon came to his campsite.

In what must have been blind panic he bypassed his camp and ran for twelve miles to where his canoe was cached at the mouth of the Conuma.

Father Anthony describes the story of Muchalat Harry's arrival at Nootka as follows.

It was probably three in the morning.

He and his brother Benedictines were asleep and the village was quiet.

Suddenly there was a series of wild cries from the waters of the inlet.

Lights were lit and he and others hurried down to the water's edge.

There, near-frozen and exhausted in his canoe, lay Muchalat Harry. He was barefoot and clad only in his wet and torn underwear and he had paddled his canoe through the winter night 45 miles from the mouth of the Conuma River.

Father Anthony and his companions carried the almost lifeless form up from the water's edge.

It took three weeks to nurse Muchalat Harry back to sanity and good health.

Father Anthony, who took him into his own care, did the nursing and he told me [Peter Byrne] that during the course of these three weeks, Muchalat Harry's hair turned to pure white.

The story of the kidnapping came out slowly.

At first Muchalat Harry would talk to no one.

Then he told Father Anthony what had happened and, later, others.

When he was fully recovered to health he was asked when he planned to go back to collect his belongings, the camp equipment, his pots and pans, his trap line and above all, his rifle, at the lean-to on the Conuma.

In 1928 a trap line and all of its pieces must have been worth a great deal to an island Indian.

A rifle alone would be regarded as a highly prized possession.

But Muchalat Harry never went back to the Conuma.

Not only did he never return there; according to Father Anthony, he never left the settlement at Nootka, never went in the woods again for the rest of his life.

He preferred to lose all of his valuables and probably hard-won possessions rather than risk another encounter with the Bigfeet."

Peter Byrne, The Search for Bigfoot, 1975.

Post from user occamsvolkswagen at at reddit.

Posted On: August 20, 2023

This story was collected by Peter Byrne from Missionary Father Anthony Terhaar who personally knew the kidnap victim, Native trapper, Muchalat Harry. The year was 1928.

"Late one autumn Muchalat Harry set off for the woods, with his traps and camping gear.

His plan was to set out a trap line and stay in the woods for several months.

He headed for his favorite hunting area, the Conuma River, at the head of Tlupana Inlet.

From Nootka he paddled his own canoe to the mouth of the Conuma.

There he cached the canoe and headed upstream on foot.

Approximately twelve miles upstream he made his base camp and, after building himself a lean-to, started to put out his trap line.

One night, while wrapped in his blankets and clad only in his underwear, he was suddenly picked up by a huge male Bigfoot and carried off into the hills.

He was not carried very far, probably a distance of about two or three miles, at the most.

When daylight came he was able to see that he was in a sort of camp, under a high rock shelf and surrounded by some twenty Bigfoot.

They were of all sexes and sizes.

For some time, they stood around him and stared at him.

The males to the front of the curious group females behind them and young ones to the rear.

Muchalat Harry was frightened at first and his fear grew to terror when he noticed, he said, the large number of bones lying around the campsite.

When he saw these he was convinced that the Bigfeet were going to eat him.

The Bigfeet did not harm him in any way.

Occasionally one came forward and touched him, as if feeling him, and when they discovered that his "skin" was loose, it was in fact his woolen underwear, several came forward and pulled at it gently.

While they looked at him and examined him, Muchalat Harry sat with his back to the rock wall and did not move.

He was cold and hungry, but his thoughts were only on escape.

Some time in the late afternoon, curiosity on the part of the Bigfeet seemed to slacken and with most of the Bigfeet out of camp, probably food-gathering he thought, there came the opportunity that he needed.

He leapt to his feet and ran for his life, never looking back.

He ran downhill, toward where he guessed the river to be and sure enough, he soon came to his campsite.

In what must have been blind panic he bypassed his camp and ran for twelve miles to where his canoe was cached at the mouth of the Conuma.

Father Anthony describes the story of Muchalat Harry's arrival at Nootka as follows.

It was probably three in the morning.

He and his brother Benedictines were asleep and the village was quiet.

Suddenly there was a series of wild cries from the waters of the inlet.

Lights were lit and he and others hurried down to the water's edge.

There, near-frozen and exhausted in his canoe, lay Muchalat Harry. He was barefoot and clad only in his wet and torn underwear and he had paddled his canoe through the winter night 45 miles from the mouth of the Conuma River.

Father Anthony and his companions carried the almost lifeless form up from the water's edge.

It took three weeks to nurse Muchalat Harry back to sanity and good health.

Father Anthony, who took him into his own care, did the nursing and he told me [Peter Byrne] that during the course of these three weeks, Muchalat Harry's hair turned to pure white.

The story of the kidnapping came out slowly.

At first Muchalat Harry would talk to no one.

Then he told Father Anthony what had happened and, later, others.

When he was fully recovered to health he was asked when he planned to go back to collect his belongings, the camp equipment, his pots and pans, his trap line and above all, his rifle, at the lean-to on the Conuma.

In 1928 a trap line and all of its pieces must have been worth a great deal to an island Indian.

A rifle alone would be regarded as a highly prized possession.

But Muchalat Harry never went back to the Conuma.

Not only did he never return there; according to Father Anthony, he never left the settlement at Nootka, never went in the woods again for the rest of his life.

He preferred to lose all of his valuables and probably hard-won possessions rather than risk another encounter with the Bigfeet."

Peter Byrne, The Search for Bigfoot, 1975.

Post from user occamsvolkswagen at at reddit.