The only person I trust to share my Sasquatch experiences with is Tecumseh. If my mother were still alive, she would be the other, but she passed on an unbelievable twenty years ago.
I meet Tecumseh at his trailer west of Comins. He lives on the edge of a Michigan State Forest he calls Tecumseh’s Reservation. For all intents and purposes, it really is his personal playground. No one else hardly ventures there and if they happen by, Tecumseh has ways of scaring the crap out of them and they seldom come back. I have had lots of laughs about his stories of city folk dropping their drawers to take a dump and then hightailing it bare-assed back to the nearest civilization.
The weather is drearily overcast, but humid and warm. I break out into a sweat as we light a fire in the stone pit that will retain a cache of hot coals for a fish fry. I have never seen Tecumseh sweat. It can be a hundred degrees with 100% humidity and he still looks cool and comfortable.
“Caught some real orange beauties,” Tecumseh offers, “you should have come with me.”
“Sorry, I wanted to talk to you about that,” I say, seeing my opening to broaching my recent encounters with Sasquatch. “I was a bit engaged. I’ve had a couple of conversations with a Bigfoot.”
Tecumseh stops what he is doing and gives me that penetrating look only a man of high virtue can give. My eyes don’t waver.
He nods, “Chiha Tanka, My Elder Brother. Did Sasquatch have anything significant to say?”
“Yes, he said the human race is blowing it.”
Tecumseh laughs mirthlessly. “The same warning I have been poking into your ears since the day we met. Do you believe him?”
“I believe you, don’t I?” I counter with a jab.
“My Elder Brother only speaks to deliver important messages about a turn of events or a prophesy of magnitude. What he says should be regarded with utmost respect. He is a special Being. He is translator and mentor into the consciousness that runs through all of life.”
“I didn’t know you had such inside knowledge.” I exclaim. “Have you met this Chiha Tanka, as you call him?”
Tecumseh shakes his head negatively. “That connection is the domain of medicine men. It is for those that guide us between the physical and spiritual worlds. I am a hunter not a healer.”
“He is troubled about man and the future,” I say. “He has invited me back for further conversations. I am eager and believe he has much more to impart to me, and, in his own words, “to my brethren”. I am a good listener as well as an astute and sensitive interrogator.”
“You are worthy,” Tecumseh replies, “but, be careful.”
“What harm could possibly come in talking to him?” I reply.
“If you should wander and get lost between this world and his, I may not be able to bring you back,” he says.
I believe I am first witness to seeing sweat on Tecumseh’s brow.
He turns abruptly to the task of melting some fat and peanut butter in his cast iron skillet. Fresh caught brook trout fried in peanut butter is a meal worthy of the gods themselves.
If there are words you are unfamiliar with or don’t know, there is a glossary of terms contained from this episode at the end of my Sasquatch webpage for your convenience. You can also find out more about and purchase my books there.