There are many amazing stories told about Bigfoot (Yeti). Most often, hunters or foresters encounter this creature, as well as tourists who have entered its possession. I happened to read the diary of a man who personally met with a yeti.
This happened in the distant 1940s, right after the war. A young forester named Peter was sent to the Urals for distribution. He entered the institute before the war, then, since 1942, he was at the front, reached Berlin, when he returned - he graduated. And at the age of 27 he came to the Urals. He had a hard job ahead of him.
In the Urals, a man met a mysterious creature, which the Mansi people call menk. He is considered a werewolf and a spirit of the forest. According to local legends, these creatures are divided into two types: one of them is evil and dangerous - ucchi, they can be cannibals, kidnap women and children; the latter, on the contrary, try not to show aggression and leave when a person appears.
Both types of yeti are covered with wool from head to toe. Although, perhaps, these are not two types, but one. It's just that in the first case, there is a male Bigfoot, and in the second - a female with a cub somewhere nearby, so she quickly leaves, protecting the offspring.
The Mansi warned the new forester about the dangers in the forest, saying that one should be afraid not only of frost, wolves and bears, but also ucchi. But Peter only laughed. And then somehow in winter Peter gathered in one of the distant corners of the forest.
“Don't go there,” the old Mansi hunter warned him, “the place is very dangerous, no one goes there. Last year my brother disappeared there, did not return. The evil ucci lives there.
- I'm not afraid, I have a gun. So you shouldn't worry about me, - answered Peter.
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He disobeyed the old hunter and went to that very place.
Then I give an entry from Peter's diary.
“Even during the day I felt the presence of something incomprehensible nearby. Sometimes it just got scary. He explained his condition by fatigue, since for the third day he was on the road, skiing and alone. I came to the conclusion that since I have no one to talk to, then all the devilry seems to be.
It was a third night in a row to be spent in the forest. Then, having checked the site, you could go back - to your hut next to the Mansi village. In the afternoon I shot a bunny and sanded him. I decided to cook myself a wonderful dinner. He lit a fire, sat down to cook food. I sit and fry the hare. The scent is just fabulous. Suddenly I hear twigs crackling next to me.
At first I thought what it seemed. Around the taiga, night, silence. And then suddenly this. I left the gun in the tent. Now, even if I am just relaxing in the forest, I always put it next to me. I have a knife on my belt, on the side, on my right hand there is an ax - as he chopped wood, he remained by my side.
He reassured himself: why should I be afraid, bears sleep in winter, wolves are unlikely to go to the fire, even if they are very hungry. Yes, and the howling of a wolf was not heard.
I internally prepared for anything, but not for this! A huge man came out to the fire, as it seemed to me at first, in a strange shaggy fur coat. Then I realized that it was not a fur coat, but wool. The man was about two and a half meters tall. The face was flattened like that of a monkey, there was no mustache, the eyes and nose were small. The jaw protrudes strongly, like a chimpanzee. A very strange shape of the head - like a cone up.
I felt scared - even worse than before the attack during the war. He reached for the ax, squeezed it so that his fingers snapped. Then it was as if someone ordered me: drop the ax, no weapons are needed. I smiled amiably at the hairy man and stuck the ax into the tree. The next day I barely pulled it out, so deeply it went into the barrel. I have never possessed such power.
The hairy man sat down next to the fire and began tossing branches into it, which I had cut beforehand. I noticed that he did this as if copying my movements.
I never ate hare that evening. The intruder took my morning prey from the fire and swallowed it almost instantly. I sat silently and listened to how he worked with his huge jaws. The fear passed, but the tension remained.
After finishing the hare, the yeti threw a few bones next to him near the fire - he probably left me my share. He threw a huge log into the fire, then got up, turned his back on me and walked slowly away.
I sat for another half an hour in a daze, could not even move. When I came to my senses, I ran to the tent, grabbed a gun, checked whether it was loaded or not. The gun was in order, the cartridges were in place.
I could not sleep that night. So he sat until morning near the fire, clutching a gun in his hands. In the morning, having assembled the tent and extinguished the fire, I examined the traces of my night guest. He walked barefoot. I put my foot in a 42-gauge felt boot to his footprint - the footprint was half more than my palm.
When I returned home, I became very ill and lay in a hut with a high temperature for about a week. Then I walked away from meeting this monster for another month. Now I am sure that Bigfoot, or, as the Mansi call him, Menk, exists."
It's hard not to believe a man who has worked as a forester all his life, and even after he went through the war. It’s a pity that my relatives didn’t give me his diary for good. Peter's grandson left him as a keepsake.
Stanislav BARGANDZHIA, Ozyory, Moscow region