In the early 1920s, an amazing story happened to the Canadian hunter Rene Dahinden. He, asleep, was kidnapped by a young Bigfoot and dragged into a deep gorge, where he "presented" to his family. Rene spent many unpleasant hours among the wild people, after which he managed to escape. This story is widely known among cryptozoologists and has become almost "classic". But it turned out that there are similar cases in our cryptozoology. Here is one of them. It happened before the revolution … in the Zhiguli Hills!
The local residents more than once noticed: in a hollow overgrown with hazel, it was worth moving out of the road there, the horses whinnying in fright, and the dogs between their tails and pressed close to the carts. And they also saw a strange creature there - terrible (you know, fear has big eyes!) And jumping. Somehow, grabbing stakes and guns, the men set out to catch the monster, so he left! Along the peaks - from tree to tree - and remember your name. And suddenly the detachment stumbled upon a dozen bloody wolf corpses - the animals were tormented mercilessly: some were without heads, others seemed to be gutted.
The story that I learned began with a couple riding through the forest in a wagon. And suddenly the unhurriedly cowardly horse began to snore uneasily. Then a furry figure darted from the tree towards her. Thrown back by a mighty blow, the man tumbled to the ground. A high-pitched female screech slashed across the hills. The horse reared and rushed madly through the forest to the ferry crossing across the Volga. Soon a peasant, terrified to death, came running there and told that his wife Evdokia … was dragged away by the devil.
Evdokia woke up in a cave. I saw someone's eyes glowing in the twilight, cried out: "Holy, holy …" In response, a moo was heard, and the woman again lost consciousness.
When I regained consciousness, there was no one in the cave, but the exit to freedom was closed by a huge boulder. Evdokia tried to roll him away, but heavy footsteps were heard outside, and Evdokia dashed into the far corner.
It was the owner of the cave who appeared. Evdokia did not see any horns or hooves, which should have been a real feature. Her kidnapper looked very much like a feral man who had overgrown with red hair and had forgotten how to speak humanly. I remembered: in her village Shelekhmet several years ago Mitka the boby disappeared without a trace. They said that the devil dragged him away. But the man was the same red-haired and healthy …
Squatting opposite Evdokia, the redhead dived into the hole, again filled it with a boulder and disappeared. He returned in the evening, brought apples and corn cobs strung on branches.
The next day Evdokia took a good look at him: it was not Mitka. But my heart still felt better - not devil all the same. Yes, and caring: he brought in food. Then she felt how badly hungry. She carefully took one of the cobs, bared the white stem, bit off the tip, noticing out of the corner of her eye that her red-haired kidnapper seemed to be shaking his head approvingly. Evdokia finally grew bolder. After satisfying her hunger, she returned to her place in the corner of the cave, imagined her own home, her husband Stepka, the children Vanka and Masha and howled in full force of the suffering woman's soul …
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The days dragged on - twilight, monotonous. The owner of the cave did not let Evdokia out. In the evening, leaving, he covered the exit with a huge stone. He returned in the morning, brought watermelons and pumpkins, corn cobs and beets from the peasant fields. Apparently, he was preparing food for the winter.
Gradually, Evdokia got used to the pungent smell emanating from her abductor, to raw vegetables, she stopped being afraid of the crimson eyes glowing in the twilight. And more and more often I caught myself thinking that she perceives this creature as an ordinary village peasant who for some reason has not learned to speak. I even came up with a name for him - Red, according to the color of the coat covering the shoulders and chest.
The nights grew colder, and Red more and more often tried to lie down on the heap of dry grass next to Evdokia. At first, she drove him - a sin for a married woman with a stranger to sleep together. But one day she resigned herself to her hard share, and Red remained by her side. With a hot, rough tongue, he licked Evdokia's shoulders, chest and stomach … In short, something happened that night, after which Red did not leave her a step: he moaned like a calf begging for milk, stroked with huge hands, now and then strove to lick. He shoved apples, the juicy pulp of a watermelon into her mouth, and then pulled her onto a couch in the far corner of the cave.
In the end, this began to annoy Evdokia, and one day, unable to restrain herself, she hit Red with her fist on the hairy head. And she froze, guessing that he would hit her back. But Red pressed his head into his shoulders. And, mournfully lowing, he backed away, and Evdokia, as it happened at home, in the village, advancing and waving her arms, screamed at the top of her voice whenever she hit. She suddenly realized that Red for the sake of her affection will endure any humiliation. However, as soon as she approached the exit, Red showed his yellow teeth and growled menacingly. She retreated, and then for a long time vindictively kept her away, growling and grinning in the same way.
It was getting colder in the cave. The redhead looked sluggish, sleepy. And he slept not humanly, but leaning on his forearms and knees, hiding his head in huge palms. (Later, when I retold this story to the famous cryptozoologist Boris Porshnev, he confirmed: yes, it is in a similar position that the “Bigfoot” sleeps. The peasants could not know about such a detail.) There was enough space under the belly and chest of the owner of the cave for Evdokia to curl up and spend day after day listening to the howling wind outside the walls of the cave. Homesickness, which did not let the woman go for a minute, became unbearable. The redhead woke up from the cry of his girlfriend, muttered something, stroked with shaggy hands until she was forgotten by a restless sleep.
Soon Evdokia realized that she was pregnant. She was relieved of the burden on a spring night in great agony. The boy turned out to be unusually large and did not seem to differ in any way from the children she gave birth to from her husband. The redhead diligently licked the child and then happily, like a monkey, galloped in front of the cave. Evdokia did not have joy: the newborn connected her with this sad life.
There was almost no food left in the cave, and Red began to leave in the evenings in order to return by morning and feed Evdokia with raw potatoes, eggs stolen from some peasant farmstead. It seems that he understood that the cub needs sunlight, so Evdokia was allowed to spend the whole day on the slope of the mountain, near the manhole, closed on all sides by dense bushes. In vain she tried to spy out any signs of human habitation. From the slope of the mountain, only the endless peaks of the pines and the spurs of the Zhiguli running away into the distance were visible. But this distance all the more beckoned her, strengthened every day the desire to escape from captivity and run away to people. But until the child got stronger, one could only dream about it …
Then the summer began to decline, and Evdokia decided. In the evening, as usual, she swept the floor in the cave, breast-fed the boy, and refreshed herself with vegetables that Red brought in the morning. She waited until his steps died away in the distance, took the boy in her arms and set off. I walked at random, trying to loop less. And with horror she wondered who they would take her for - disheveled, with scraps of dress on her shoulders, dirty?
She did not manage to leave - she saw how, bending low to the ground, as if sniffing out tracks, Red was rushing towards her. Having overtaken the fugitive, he jumped around her, growling and triumphant. And then he roughly grabbed Evdokia with one hand (or paw?), Threw her on his shoulder, with the other gently pressed the crying baby to his chest and went to the cave. Evdokia heard the neigh of a horse and the barking of dogs behind a nearby wooded ridge. “So there’s a road,” she said to herself.
By the fall, the boy had grown up, gained weight, and it was already hard for Evdokia to hold him in her arms. Now, she realized, if she went away, it would be alone. And then return to the cave with people.
The redhead was asleep when she, having lulled her son, quietly laid him next to him. She got out of the cave, went down the mountain and rushed aside with urine, from where she heard the barking of dogs and the neigh of a horse. I was lucky: I got out onto a forest road and, splashing hot dust with my bare feet, ran to the ferry crossing, from where it was a stone's throw to the village of Rozhdestveno. Evdokia knew that it was closer to the Volga from here than to the village, more than once she went here with her husband. Suddenly she heard the crying of a child, or maybe she didn't hear - she felt it. Turned around - Red! He's already on the road! The horror added to her strength. So the forest ends, behind it is a small field and a ferry crossing …
The passengers of the ferry, which was already leaving the pier, suddenly saw a naked woman with fluttering hair run out of the forest and, screaming loudly, rushed to the river. She was overtaken by a bestial creature with a child in her arms. The woman threw herself into the water, someone threw a rope to her from the ferry. And an unknown half-man, half-beast, like a bear, wandered into the Volga up to his knees and, mourning piteously, held out a crying child to Evdokia in the palms of his mighty hands. However, the ferry went further and further. The redhead roared, in despair grabbed the baby by the legs and tore it apart in front of the passengers who were numb with horror …
- And what happened to Evdokia? - I asked.
- And what will a woman do, - the storytellers answered. - She died in due time. And so nothing. She just didn't let the peasant come to her.
Boris Fedorovich Porshnev, a cryptozoologist and professor, was not surprised by this message of mine, having noticed, I remember that behind characters like Red, a very real living creature is usually hidden - a relict hominoid that has survived to this day …
On that day, the Bochkarev brothers and a fifth-grader Kolya Aksenov from the village of Ashchibulak, Ili region (Kazakhstan), at about five o'clock in the evening, went to mow hay in the canal water area. The country roads in these places are full of troubles, and after ten minutes of driving the motorcycle had a punctured wheel tube. The hitch turned out in a rather remote and deserted place. The cradle had to be disconnected, after which Bochkarev Sr. left for the village for a new wheel, leaving Bochkarev Jr. and his friend to guard the immovable part of the motorcycle. Half an hour passed, and the friends were clearly bored of inaction and heat. The noise of the reeds about twenty meters from them suddenly attracted attention. The thickets parted, and an unprecedented creature appeared in front of the horrified children. It looked like a monkey. The body was covered with thick dark gray hair, they were not only on the top of the head,which was a smooth sloping skull, covered with black, like coal, leather. Ears were absent, instead of eyes there were narrow slits with something cloudy, like a thorn, instead of pupils. The hands of the upper limbs (arms) are bent inward. Growth, however, is far from monkey - about three meters.
The creature dropped to all fours and, with a growl, moved towards the guys. Those, naturally, were blown away by the wind. They ran without feeling their legs, hearing the approaching wheeze and stomp of the pursuer behind them. It is not known what the junction would be if Bochkarev Sr. did not appear on the road. Not understanding anything, he still did not lose his head and tried to scare the huge monkey with the signal of the motorcycle. The effect had the due effect - she did not hesitate to hide in the reeds. After that, Bochkarev Sr. took the frightened guys to a small wagon hut, which was nearby, and he himself, taking a watchman with him, left for an abandoned cradle. Less than half an hour later, Bochkarev Jr. noticed from the window a huge shadow on the ground near the trailer. It took a second to latch the door. In the next instant, the walls were already shaking from powerful blows from outside, drowned out by a hoarse roar. This went on for about fifteen minutes. The unknown even tried to overturn the trailer, starting to swing it intensively (which is beyond the power of an ordinary person). The appeared motorcyclists again forced the unknown to hide. Now for good….
“I was demobilized from the naval aviation regiment at the funniest Khrushchev time, when the peasant farms were 'cut down', when, in order to keep the 'cut down' private farmstead, I had to mow hay at night for myself, and wave my scythe at the collective farm during the day. It was. For my cow, I mowed at night too. And it was necessary to hide in the wild wilderness, away from the roads, so that the authorities did not see you on the secret mowing.
So, for the “personal mowing”, in July 1960, I just huddled in such a wilderness. For some reason this tract was called Sdohlovka in our village. I noticed an excellent mowing on the edge of this very Sdohlovka, impassable thickets with a swamp somewhere inside it, and began to come here at night on horseback from the collective farm mow, on which we worked for weeks without a break. It was scary to be alone, and I usually took my wolfhound dog and a double-barreled gun with me. Just in case: here you can also face a bear at any moment.
He mowed without hindrance for two nights, passing the swaths with his right shoulder to the swamp.
Arrived on the third night. The moon is like a spotlight. He tied the horse to a birch tree on a long reins, hung a loaded gun on a twig. He lit a smoky fire, smoked a cigarette and crashed into the forbs with the idea of mowing down to the very edge of the thicket by morning. Little remained. I wave a scythe, forgetting everything. My dog lay down next to the fire, the horse was fed and, I looked, he also came closer to the smoke. Dozing while standing.
It’s almost cleared up. A fog came from the swamp. I stopped, shook my shoulders, and reached into the pocket of my jacket for a cigarette. There were perhaps fifteen meters to the edge of the thicket, no more.
I pulled out a cigarette, began to light it, leaning slightly towards the light of a match, and suddenly, with all my skin, I felt that someone was staring at me from the right from the bushes. I involuntarily froze, numb. It squeezed everything. This has never happened to me. I wanted to step to the fire but could not. Sore throat. I don't remember whether I was breathing or not. The eyes seemed to turn, but the neck did not turn. How paralyzed. From under my forehead I saw that there was someone in the broom bush. Stands and looks - intently and icy. Then all of a sudden it "gave", as they say here in Siberia. I rushed to the gun, I don't remember how I pulled it off the bitch and banged it in a doublet into the damn bush. Something recoiled from there, then recoiled to the swamp, a short stomp, then a long squelching splash and - silence.
I convulsively reloaded the double-barreled gun and banged there again. He stood stretched out in that direction, and suddenly felt the skin on his face twitch. The dog whined quietly and crawled towards me. This had never happened to him. The horse whinnied and tore the leash. I came to my senses. I reloaded the double-barreled gun, threw the belt over my shoulder, stroked the horse to calm down, then somehow lit another cigarette. When I smoked my lips jumped. The hair seemed to stand on end under the cap. He untied the horse, wound the leash on his arm, jumped on his Gypsy (that was the name of the horse), and he carried me to the camp of the collective farm mowing.
There were no peasants who mowed "for themselves" at night, like me. Then they began to drive up one by one. Almost everyone asked: “Who shot?” He confessed: I shot. "In whom?" - "I myself do not know." - "Do not whistle. He didn’t put the old man down. They don't hit the hare twice with a doublet. Confess. " There was nothing to confess. They argued. We decided to check in the afternoon. At lunchtime we went on horseback. They climbed all my mowing, combed the thicket - no trace: neither bear, nor elk.
In the bush, which I doubled over twice, the grass was crushed: someone was standing. From this place to the swamp, the grass is crumpled dotted: someone ran away in jumps. Further - the perilous swamp. Everyone knew that the elk passes through the swamp. We went to the other side of the swamp. We climbed around, but the trail of the alleged elk was nowhere to be found.
Some men insisted that I mortally wounded an elk and he drowned in a gibliak - a swamp buchil. But the wound gives abundant blood, the elk would have left moose tracks on the edge of the swamp. And there were no traces, only crushed grass. There was no blood. This means that I did not hit the one who was spying on me from the broom bush. Riddle.
A few days later, while taking a steam bath with my grandfather, I told him everything.
- Where is your mowing? - asked the grandfather.
- Yes, at Sdohlovka. To the right of the Pletnevskaya road. My grandfather looked at me in a strange way, and said:
- Found it too … We never mowed there. Damn place. Sdohlovka, in a word.
… True, I did sweep the haystack there. The guys helped. But then I never poked my nose in there again.
I remember, and somehow it will become uncomfortable. He was silent. And now I decided to tell that eerie incident. Who will answer: at whom did I shoot?.. Yes. Riddle.
Tatiana Borisova, Samara.