Around midnight, they were awakened by some noise and saw a huge body standing at the opening of the lean-to. Their nostrils were assailed by a “strong wild-beast odor.” Bauman fired a couple of shots at the creature. They figured he did not hit it, because they heard it move away through the woods.
The next day, the creature again ravaged the camp while Bauman and his partner were checking their traps. They found a trail of prints in the soft dirt, and these confirmed once more that their assailant, unlike a bear, had walked off on just two feet. That evening, they set up a roaring fire, which they kept going all night. Around midnight, the creature was heard moving through the woods, and it several times “uttered a harsh grating, long-drawn moan.”
The following morning, Bauman and his partner decided to leave, but first they wanted to check their traps. As they moved through the forest, they sensed they were being followed. Roosevelt (1906, p. 259) said, “In the high, bright sunlight their fears seemed absurd to the two armed men, accustomed as they were, through long years of lonely wandering in the wilderness, to face every kind of danger from man, brute, or element.” Bauman’s partner returned to the camp before he did. When Bauman finally arrived, he found his partner dead. Said Roosevelt (1906, p. 260): “The footprints of the unknown beast-creature, printed deep in the soft soil, told the whole story.”
Roosevelt had some thoughts about the episode. He wrote of Bauman: “he was of German ancestry, and in childhood had doubtless been saturated with all kinds of ghost and goblin lore, so that many fearsome superstitions were latent in his mind; besides he knew well the stories told by Indian medicine men in their winter camps, of the snow-walkers, and the spectres, and the formless evil beings that haunt the forest depths, and dog and waylay the lonely wanderer who after nightfall passes through the regions where they lurk; and it may be that when overcome by the horror of the fate that befell his friend, and when oppressed by the awful dread of the unknown, he grew to attribute, both at the time and still more in remembrance, weird and elfin traits to what was merely some abnormally wicked and cunning wild beast; but whether this was so or not, no man can say” (Roosevelt 1906, pp. 254 – 255).
Roosevelt’s psychological explanation of Bauman’s tale is typical of the reasoning presently applied by those who have no desire to add wildmen to the North American faunal list. In this case, because of the vagueness of the account, it is not easy to offer counterarguments. Bauman did not get a clear look at the creature. But one might wonder what known large North America mammal typically prowls about on two feet rather than four? Bears will stand for a short time on two legs, but are not known to move any great distance in bipedal fashion. If the creature really was a bear, Bauman, an experienced backwoodsman, should have been able to identify it as such from the footprints, which he closely inspected. But he did not. What sort of animal could have made the footprints? Roosevelt (1906, p. 261) said that Bauman believed “the creature with which he had to deal was something either half-human or half devil, some great goblin-beast.”
Taken on its own, the Bauman story is not very impressive as evidence for the existence of wildmen in North America, but when considered along with the more substantive reports it acquires greater significance.
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