The Thing Outside My Tent
What if it's True Podcast
Cameron Buckner
4.8 • 1.3K Ratings
🗓️ 23 March 2026
⏱️ 14 minutes
🧾️ Download transcript
Summary
Growing up in Bath, Maine, he developed a deep comfort in the wilderness, often spending days solo camping and foraging. During one four-day excursion with their hunting dog, Sparky, the narrator set up camp by a creek, successfully hunting squirrels and catching fish. However, the atmosphere shifted after they discovered a mysterious den surrounded by bones and unidentified tracks, leaving the narrator with an unsettling premonition that they were being watched.
The tension peaked that night when an eerie silence fell over the woods, broken only by a strange, scratchy breathing outside the tent. Expecting a bear attracted by leftover fish bones, the narrator peeked through a window flap and was paralyzed by the sight of a Lunksoos, or "Indian Devil." This legendary New England cryptid—a terrifying mix of cougar, bear, and coyote—reeked of death and moved with impossible speed, vanishing into a blur the moment it was startled by Sparky’s whining.
The encounter turned violent when the creature suddenly charged, trampling the tent and leaving the narrator bloodied and Sparky terrified. The two spent the remainder of the night huddled together in fear, waiting for the first sign of light. As soon as the sun rose, they abandoned their gear and fled the woods, forever changed by the realization that some legends are rooted in a very dangerous reality.
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Transcript
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| 0:00.0 | It was in the mid-1990s in Georgetown, Kentucky, and I walked or rode my bike everywhere. |
| 0:15.0 | Near the center of town was a beautifully maintained wooded cemetery that I walked through almost daily to get from |
| 0:21.5 | one place to another. One evening around dusk I was running late for my karate class |
| 0:27.8 | and I took a shortcut through that cemetery as I always did. As soon as I entered I felt |
| 0:34.4 | something walking along the path with me, but staying just far enough behind |
| 0:39.6 | that I would have to turn my head to see it. |
| 0:42.5 | The strangest thing of all was that I was overcome with peace and calm, and despite the urge |
| 0:48.9 | to turn my head and look, I couldn't do it. |
| 0:52.6 | I could hear heavy footsteps, but there was no bad smell, |
| 0:56.8 | just the sense that I was not alone, that I was safe and whatever it was didn't mean to harm me. |
| 1:03.9 | I continued to walk through the cemetery. I felt this thing get close enough that I could have |
| 1:09.2 | reached out and touched it, but I felt no urge to do that. I felt this thing get close enough that I could have reached out and touched it, but I felt |
| 1:11.5 | no urge to do that. |
| 1:13.6 | I felt as if my body was on autopilot, and I had no real control over what I was doing. |
| 1:21.0 | As I neared the exit of the cemetery, whatever this thing was seemed to back off and was completely |
| 1:27.4 | gone by the time I got to the gate. |
| 1:30.3 | And then, and only then, was I able to turn around and look behind me. |
| 1:34.9 | I wish I could say I saw it run behind a tree or something like that, but I didn't see anything. |
| 1:41.0 | Well, I got to my karate class just a few minutes later, only to find that I was nearly half an hour late. |
| 1:47.8 | The walk that only took me ten minutes had taken twice that. |
| 1:52.2 | I couldn't make sense of the lost time. |
| 1:56.1 | I kept walking through the cemetery often for the rest of my years in that town, and only one |
... |
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