The writer of this story has been dead for several years now.

At one time, back in the early 30s, he had this story written up ready to send away.

Everything happened and the manuscript was put into a box and forgotten.

The story should be listed among the classics for it occurred before anything was known

about Bigfoot, before anyone knew anything about these things, anyone except the natives

that is, and they have known all along, but no one listened until the 21st century.

Thomas Bay, Alaska, 1900.

The spring of 1900 found four men batching together in a shack at Wrangle, Alaska.

All four were broke, as is usual with prospectors.

As luck would have it, I was one of the four.

For reasons which will be quite obvious, I will just call the other three men John, Charlie,

Fred. Charlie came into the shack one night in April. He was all excited, and he said,

Fellas, I've been on the trail of an Indian for the past month trying to get him to tell me

where he picked up a piece of free gold quartz that he keeps in his camp.

I never said anything about it before because I wanted to get the story from him first,

and today he spilled the beans. He told me to go up to Thomas Bay and camp on the Patterson River

on the right side, then to travel upriver for about eight miles, and then turn to the high mountains,

and after traveling about a mile and a half, I would find a lake shaped like a half moon.

He said there's plenty of stone like this where I found this one.

Thomas Bay is known by the Native Americans in Alaska as the Bay of Death.

About 150 years ago, a slide down one of the mountains wiped out a village,

killing over 500 of the inhabitants. Of course, a prospector is ready to stampede on a whisper

...