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January 1966 The Battle of Robshaw HillAs you have probably heard before now, the districts of Parkhurst and Clover View have been kept in a state bordering on hysteria for a couple of days right after Christmas. The reason for all the excitement, it appears, was the arrival of some weird creature of immense size and ferocity. The writer has researched the case thoroughly trying to sort out the facts and even after discarding everything that smacks of untruth or exaggeration, (sticking only to what’s plausible, and backed up by several eye witness accounts) we are still left with a fantastic story which I believe is living proof that truth is stranger than fiction. It all started a day or so after Christmas when a local farmer went out to feed his hogs. He found his hog pen encircled with huge tracks in the fresh snow, tracks such as he had never seen before. (About 10 inches across with huge claw marks all the way around like a huge sunflower, only the claws were 3 inches long.) Upon examining his hogs, two appeared to be missing. Realizing that a creature of such immense size could easily carry two full-grown hogs without effort, and having the good sense not to tangle with such a beast armed only with a .303 rifle, he immediately went for help. Among those selected for the chase, were the well-known sportsmen and big game hunters “Polar Bear” and “Bobcat” Sale. Also asked to assist was “Sure Shot” Senyk, well know for the size of artillery he carries and also for his deadly aim. Accordingly, the trail was taken up and the chase continued until dark without getting sight of IT. (Now, not knowing even yet what this creature was, to simplify things, I shall refer to the beast as IT.) Darkness had set in and the chase was being carried on by flashlight. Suddenly, everyone froze, speechless, in their tracks. Some distance ahead a huge pair of luminous green eyes appeared. It seems, according to reliable reports, the eyes were at least six feet off the ground and about 18 inches apart. Each eye was about four inches in diameter. As they gazed unbelievingly, a fantastic thing happened. From the darkness came a loud noise – half snort, half snarl – and then one baleful eye whirled and headed east, while the other eye jumped a fence and headed west. Not a shot was fired. Finally a hunter found his voice: “Boys, I think we’re asking for trouble trailing IT in the dark. If IT can send IT’s eyes in two directions at once, it’s hard to say where it’s body went. Maybe its sneaking up on us right now.” All hastily agreed to this so they turned for home to reorganize for another try at IT tomorrow. During the night guns were oiled and scopes checked and encyclopedias were searched in vain for an animal that might have made such weird tracks and such huge eyes. Someone suggested phoning Al Oeming, another thought E. Larson, the local game officer should be notified. All finally agreed that with reinforcements they might be able to handle IT themselves. So early next morning they called in a local trapper, “Cougar” Barrett, to serve as tracker and coordinator. Whereas, the first day the hunters numbered only a squad of men, now they had a platoon and plenty of firepower. With “Cougar” as organizer, the chase resumed. When shown the tracks, Cougar examined them with a practiced eye. He immediately ruled out a cougar, as he knew no cougar ever had foot that big. “Must be a plains grizzly, boys, and a whopper. Would I ever love to have that pelt.” Soon after the chase was resumed, they came upon the tangible evidence that IT was, first, immense in size, and second, carnivorous. A huge pile of droppings, still faintly steaming in the frosty air gave evidence the trail was getting warm. They gathered around the spoor. “Look!” exclaimed Polar Bear. “It’s full of blood and chewed up meat. Must be those two hogs he ate.” “Say boys,” said another, “you know this critter has been eating alfalfa on this field. I never knew grizzlies ate alfalfa.” “Oh yes they do.” Another hunter spoke up. “It’s to condition their blood for the long pull through hibernation.” Polar Bear poured a handful of old ball bearings down the twin stacks of his ancient smooth bore. “All I want is just one crack at that critter with big bertha here. I bet he’ll be the only grizzly in history that run on ‘tinken’ bearings. From careful observation while researching the scene, it would appear that one ‘jug’ was emptied here. Some hundred yards away was a patch of bush. Suddenly from the depths of the thicket came an angry snort, crashing sounds, and spurts of steam rose over the tops of willows. Instantly Cougar deploys his platoon for action. “Spread out boys, and get him in a crossfire,” he hollers. “Don’t shoot till you see the whites of his eyes.” Whereupon, having set the stage for action, he fell down behind a large rock to guard the last small mickey of rye. From this point on, a veil of secrecy clamps down. All that can be ascertained is that IT came snorting out of the thicket and confronted the hunters, yet it seems IT did not attack them and not a shot was fired. The hunters came home grim faced and silent, and put the guns away. What IT was will probably remain one of the great mysteries of all time. Some prehistoric monster, perhaps, which got pushed under the mud of one of the swamps over by Camping Lake, 10,000 years ago, to come out of hibernation last summer and now finds itself in a different world, unable to adapt to civilization and slated for an early grave. Whatever IT is, IT has the power to demoralize several of the best hunters in the district. I am not certain but I think IT is still in the district. I believe I saw IT at my straw pile yesterday. Athabasca Hillbilly The Story Behind the StoryGrowing up in Parkview (the combined districts of Parkhurst and Clover View in Athabasca County, Alberta, Canada), I had the fortune of living for a time across the back-forty from Pat. He would often entertain my brother and I with fantastic stories, and he usually left it up to us young ones to sort out the fact from the fiction. However, this particular tale happens to be true, and quite often at a gathering of the players, the story is retold. You see, the “local farmer” is Walter Haukenfrers, and “Robshaw Hill” is just up the road from the farm where I grew up. “Polar Bear” and “Bobcat” are the brothers Adrian and Norman Sale. “Sure Shot” and “Cougar” are Steve Senyk and Harvey Barrett. Now one of the great parts of this story is just what exactly IT was. Pat never divulges in his story just exactly what IT was, and if you ask any of the players, you might get a response such as “Pat’s just damn lucky we didn’t shoot IT!” IT happened to be Pat’s own draft horse, which had broken out during the night. The fresh wet snow had formed icicles around his hooves that formed the strange tracks observed that fateful night. And the missing hogs, well they had broken out as well and managed to crawl deep into a nearby haystack. Pat, you are fondly remembered and missed. Ronald W. Haukenfrers |
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