| Ever been trapped in a situation where certain safety was just about a football field away but you know if you tried to run for it that you would be caught before you made it half the distance? That was exactly the circumstance that George Eisele found himself on the fourth of July in a forest just a football field away from civilization which meant certain safety. By the time he reached the point where he was forced to deal with that football field’s distance he was already at the end of his rope. It was the fourth of July, Nineteen hundred and sixty when George woke up that day and after finishing his chores, he left to go hunting in the woods outside of Eugene Oregon. He had his father’s double barrel twelve gage shotgun and a box of shells. It was early to be going dove hunting but George was never one for coloring inside the lines. Besides, he was only about two month’s early to be hunting dove. He also brought his father’s canteen filled with his favorite flavor of kook-aid. An off brand which he had just become aware was not the same popular drink as the one it was striving to imitate. Still to George he figured grape is grape. He also brought a couple of sandwiches which were peanut butter and jelly. It was all a kid needed to have a great day out in the woods. The day started out with the sounds of fireworks being shot off. During the daytime hours they were most likely just firecrackers. Once in a while he would hear an entire package of firecrackers being shot off at one time. When that happened he always wondered was it done by setting fire to the package or was the package thrown into an existing fire. He always thought he would choose the latter if he had the kind of money to throw away on lighting an entire package at once. He followed animal paths which would eventually bring him to some clearings where he would set up and wait for incoming birds. It was mid-afternoon and he had already shot about half a dozen dove, all of which he had cleaned on the spot, only keeping their breasts as proof of their having been killed. It was when he was cleaning that sixth bird that he noticed across the clearing there was something watching him! It had ducked back behind a tree so fast he wasn’t entirely certain he had seen anything at all but the hair standing up on the back of his neck said it was time to go. George was always one to listen to his inner voices and this one was being very loud and clear. Lets get the hell out of here! He was a long way out in the woods from civilization. There was no short cut to get home. George had no choice but to begin the long trek back the way he had come. He passed a little stream for the second time and because he was almost out of grape drink, he poured out the remaining and filled the canteen with the water. He would try and not drink it because of the chances of getting sick but if he wasn’t able to find his way home in a fashionable time then it might be a life-saver to have the water available. George continued walking back towards his home. It was getting closer to sun down than it was to lunch time, so he began to also feel the pressure of getting back before the light was lost. Then he began to notice a sound which seemed to stop when he stopped. This was very uncomfortable. Every time he began to continue walking through the forest that noise was evident. whatever was stalking him wasn’t fooling anybody. It was proving to be incredibly intimidating however. George sped up his retreat. When there was only a couple hours of light left, George ran into a problem. The noise, that movement sound, had went ahead of him and now he was certain it was in wait for him if he continued down the path he had followed that morning to go out into the woods. He hesitated going forward and tried to think things out. George had a better than average inner compass which allowed him to deviate from a path and still be able to pick it back up, or to at least come out in the direction he had intended. There are many people whom do not have such a skill. George had been aware of that for a long time and he trusted his inner compass. The problem was that the under brush around this part was so thick that leaving a path even if you knew the right direction to head, was no guarantee you would make it without having to turn back and take the path in order to get through the woods. In this particular case however George knew that less than a quarter mile past the spot he was worried about being ambushed, the trail took a ninety-degree turn which if he left the path now he could pick it back up where it turned back the ninety-degrees. He didn’t know if he could make it through the dense underbrush but decided to take the risk thinking that there wasn’t a lot to lose. If he had to backtrack then so be it. George left the path and using that inner compass began the task of cutting through the dense woods in order to reach the safety of civilization before the woods went completely dark. To his satisfaction he did indeed come out on the path after it took that dog-leg turn. Quickly he seized on the opportunity to get down the path and back to home. Right where you enter the bulk of the woods there is a ditch which likely was man-made. There is a path or perhaps better described as a swath cut through the woods with that ditch running at the bottom of the swath. On the side which George was quickly coming up to; the far side of the swath from civilization, the woods were less thick than in other places back further in. Basically back where he had just come. Regardless of that the woods were still thick enough to force most anything to keep to the path in order to make any kind of progress. On the other side of the swath was more thick woods but it was only about a football field and a half to where the woods spit you out onto a blacktop road. George lived on that road about half a mile up from the spot he would be spit out if he kept on the same route. Despite how thick the brush was it sounded like something was keeping pace with his fast exit from the woods. Then he distinctively heard it back off from keeping pace and he thought it might be making way over to the path he was on where it could then race down the path after him. George came out of the woods and rushed down the one side of the swath and crossed the little stream of water that ran at the bottom of swath. Next he raced up the other side and then turned in time to see a giant hairy being start to come out of the woods after him. George wasted no time firing the gun at the beast which sent it back into the cover of the woods. George fired a second shot just to let it know he was serious. Next he quickly reloaded and finished climbing the other side of the swath while keeping eyes on the forest for any sign of that huge beast. Now that George had seen what was stalking him he immediately concluded he would never be able to outrun that thing to the blacktop road. It simply wasn’t possible. What was worse was that once it got on the other side of the swath, it would be able to over take him using the forest as a cloak. He needed a way to keep the beast on that side of the big ditch long enough he could get enough of a head start to be able to reach the blacktop. Somehow he was sure if he got there he would be safe! Twice the animal stuck its head out of the woods and twice George fired a shot at it while keeping that second shot still available in case he needed it. Twice he ended up reloading the gun and after the second reloading he got an idea. George always carried an emergency kit with him which included some minor medical stuff like some alcohol swabs, some band aids, and also included in the kit was a fishing line and some hooks. He used the fishing line so he could tie his hat to the trigger of the shotgun. After fashioning the hat so it was upside down therefore would catch any water poured into it he then tied the other end of the string to the shotgun triggers. Next he placed the shotgun so to be pointed in the direction of where he expected the beast to come out of the woods, the spot where the path was located. Next he used his knife to poke a small hole in the canteen so that it allowed water to escape but in a thin stream instead of it gulping out like it would have it he had just taken off the cap. The canteen was positioned so it would drip that stream of water into the cap. When the cap got heavy enough it would fire the gun. George set things into motion and then ran for his life for that blacktop road. He still had a football field to cover when he heard the gun fire. Faster he pushed himself down that path to the barbed-wire fence which designated where the properties of the housing development reached back. He leapt over the barbed-wire fence and stopped running when he was standing in the middle of the blacktop road. It was a short walk home from there. George went back the next day with his father to get the shotgun. It was still there, looking no worse for the wear but there was also a footprint which was just a partial but George’s dad estimated it to be about a size fourteen extra, extra wide. He chose not to punish for leaving the gun out there. He never said he believed but after seeing the partial footprint he never said he didn’t either. |  |