I recently received a few interesting and lengthy accounts from a witness in Australia. I've decided to present the incidents in 3 separate posts. The previous post - Various Strange Encounters - Part I:
Dear 'Phantoms and Monsters'
Our second camping expedition in the Bush took place further away, one hundred miles out from Melbourne at the Otway Ranges where Den was kind enough to run us in his car, a Holden. He then drove the long journey back home intending to pick us up 'one week later' as he had done with the 'You Yang camping trip'. We camped close by a large lake or reservoir as we would require water. Our first task as always was to build a camp fire with which to boil the 'brown' coloured water from the lake as well as to cook our rations. My immediate regret on arriving was in not bringing my fishing-rod and tackle along with me because that lake was brimming with fish. A solitary guy was fishing there and I had earlier bought a brilliant book on fishing in Australian waters, both sea and fresh-water. In fact that book cost me the last of my dollars to buy it in Coles (a similar shop to England's Woolworth) before we were to fly back to the UK. That reservoir was large and stocked with many fish, the varieties of which has long since escaped my memory. It was after Den had taken his leave of us and the vital camp-fire was roaring away, that darkness had fallen and knowing we had twelve hours of darkness ahead of us I decided to make my way into the jungle-like scrub to collect armfuls of dead firewood. Shouldering my trusty .22 'Vostok Voyere', Russian bolt-action rifle and with a machete in my hand I made my way to the fringe of that tree covered forest. I carried a torch but there was ample light from the blazing fire close-by our tent and all about us lay broken-off branches of dried-out timber that I gathered to lay beside the fire, ready to replenish the flames. This fire was very important, for one thing it was vital for boiling the water we collected from the lake and too it was our only source of light aside from the torches. We were alone and dependent on Den to return to pick us up a week or so hence. With the fire burning brightly and our last meal eaten and our reminiscing over, we later 'turned in' having zipped-up the entrance to the tent.
The week passed without incident and seemingly all too quickly. We trekked and hunted and undertook the many chores that were necessary to our camping out in the bush lands of beautiful Australia. We'd pass the time at night, chatting and/or reading. Twelve hours was a rather long night of darkness in July and always somewhat eerie with the sounds of bush animals and the night birds. The otherwise quiet and stillness was nice if at times a little creepy when one had to leave the tent to answer a 'call of nature' or to put wood on the fire. With darkness then falling suddenly at 1800hrs it always made the night seem long. The week however passed without incident and all too soon it was our last night under canvas. The day had in fact begun rather strangely, that last day before Den was due to arrive and collect us. For one thing, the birds all fell silent that morning. Most unusual as their melodious songs often signalled the new morn. A strange eerie feeling of ominous unease made itself felt and Trevor remained 'in his sack' all of that day virtually. He was reading a rather thick paperback - about (of all things) UFO's. Definitely not the kind of reading to appeal to me in the atmosphere of that 'day before' we were to be picked up. "Hey Bri?" Trevor's voice broke in upon my thoughts as I lay on my sleeping-bag, casually reading something myself. I turned to look at him and he said "listen to this" He proceeded to relate a rather disturbing account of a UFO abduction so far as I can remember. He then added "guess where?" He then said "one hundred miles from Melbourne!" And how far were we from Melbourne? Why, 'one hundred miles!' I admonished him half jokingly for reading such a book considering where we were. However, we took solace in that a circle of one hundred miles from Melbourne which could mean just about anywhere on that circle and not necessarily where we were camping. I closed my eyes to sleep, eagerly awaiting the dawn of the following day.
My eyes flickered open suddenly as I lay in my sleeping-bag. Something, had awoken me. I looked across at Trevor - he too was wide awake and staring questioningly back at me. I knew only too well that sixth-sense that always served to awaken me when 'danger' threatened. I would awaken with all my senses alert and not as from a sleep drowsily but all senses alive. I looked at my watch, the time was 0130hrs as I recall. I strained my ears as a sound reached me. I could see that Trevor likewise had heard what I had. Something, or 'someone' was moving through the densely covered bush where I had collected the firewood from earlier that evening. But what could it be? The noise 'it' made sounded enormously heavy and ponderous as the loud snapping sounds of branches breaking beneath the feet of 'whatever it was' that was alarmingly making its way towards our tent. My heart was racing and I hurriedly got out of my sleeping-bag and seizing my rifle and my knife I crouched at the rear end of our tent at the ready. The sheath-knife was to cut my way out of the rear of the tent if 'whatever it was' attempted to enter the tent. What the hell could it be? It was so heavy that the very ground shook under it's colossal weight. That ground consisting of compacted earth and leaves had made no sound whatsoever under my commando 'SV' boots. Trevor likewise had now gotten out of his sleeping-bag and we both crouched, too scared to discover what was outside our flimsy, canvas tent. Whatever had approached our tent was enormously heavy. It walked slowly and ponderously circling around the tent three complete times after first approaching the zipped-up entrance in front of which, a safe distance away was our camp-fire, burning brightly and stoked-up in order to last throughout the night. Thus in the morning we would simply put dead wood in the red ashes to get the fire going in order to boil the water for our much needed coffee. Three times this huge 'thing on two legs' walked slowly and ponderously around our tent. My feelings were an intense mixture of fear, disbelief and yet profound curiosity to know what this 'thing' could be. It sounded like an 'elephant walking on two legs' that was my thought of our yet unseen 'visitor'. At any moment I expected the tent to be pulled from around us or the zipped-up entrance to be rudely torn open hence my knife to cut a way out of the back of that tent. Then, those ponderous heavy footfalls slowly retreated back the way that 'it' had come. I did not have the courage to unzip that entrance to look out even though I was desperately curious to know just what that 'monstrous' two-legged 'thing' could possibly have been. It was not a kangaroo for sure. They don't walk they bounce and they don't wear boots. Neither are they the 'weight of an elephant' even though they 'travel on two legs'. The ground had literally trembled beneath it's incredible weight on that relatively soft ground. BB
It Was a Dark and Creepy Night: Real-Life Encounters with the Strange, Mysterious, and Downright Terrifying
Phantoms & Monsters: Strange Encounters
Weird Australia: Real Reports of Uncanny Creatures, Strange Sightings & Extraordinary Encounters
Weird Encounters: True Tales of Haunted Places
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