Native Elder Showed Me Where DOGMAN Sleeps, When It Woke Up Everything Went Terrifyingly Wrong…
The Secret Keepers: My Encounter with the Elders of the Forest”
Chapter 1: The Beginning of a Journey
In 1998, I was 37 years old, working as a wildlife biologist for the Washington State Department of Fish and Wildlife. I had dedicated my life to studying the animals of the Pacific Northwest, tracking migration patterns, managing predator populations, and conducting field research in some of the most remote and untouched areas of the state. I had a master’s degree in wildlife ecology from the University of Washington and had published papers in scientific journals. I was rational, scientific, and deeply skeptical of anything that couldn’t be measured or documented.
I had grown up in Seattle, the son of two college professors—my father a physics teacher, and my mother a mathematics professor. Critical thinking was drilled into me from childhood. Question everything, demand evidence, don’t accept claims without proof. When I heard stories about Bigfoot or other cryptids, I dismissed them as misidentifications, hoaxes, or folklore. I had spent hundreds of hours in the forests of Washington, and I had never seen anything that couldn’t be explained by known animals or natural phenomena.
But as I would soon learn, the wilderness has a way of hiding its secrets, and sometimes, the things we dismiss as myths are far more real than we could ever imagine.
Chapter 2: A Remote Assignment
The year 1998 brought a new project—one I thought would be as straightforward as any of the others. My assignment was to study elk populations in the forests near the Cville Indian Reservation. The area was remote, heavily forested, and historically significant to the local tribes. I had worked with tribal members before and had always been treated with respect, though I noticed a certain distance between them and myself. They shared knowledge with outsiders, but only to a certain extent.
I set up base camp about 12 miles into the forest, near a small creek. The landscape was exactly what I’d hoped for—untouched, rugged, and pristine. I had all the necessary equipment: trail cameras, tracking gear, and my trusty field notebook. I was alone, which suited me perfectly. Solitude was part of the appeal of working in the wilderness, and it was in that quiet that I felt truly connected to the land.
It wasn’t long before I encountered Joseph Whitebear, an elderly Native American man who would change my life forever. I was checking my equipment one morning when I heard someone approaching through the forest. The figure was moving confidently, as if it belonged there. When I turned, I saw Joseph—probably in his 80s, with weathered skin and eyes that seemed to take in everything without revealing much.
“You’re the biologist,” he said, his voice gravelly. It wasn’t a question, but a statement.
“Yes, sir,” I replied. “David Hartley. I’m here studying the elk populations.”
He nodded slowly. “I know. I’ve been watching you. You’ve been tracking the Roosevelt elk herd, studying wolves, bears, mountain lions. But you’re missing something.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Missing something? What do you mean?”
Joseph’s eyes grew more intense. “You’re missing the biggest predator in these woods. The one you don’t study, the one your science doesn’t have a name for. They sleep in these forests. They walk upright, like humans, but they’re not human. They’re not like anything you’ve studied. They are the elders of the forest, the ones who’ve been here long before your kind.”
I was skeptical, of course. I had grown up hearing stories, but I wasn’t the type to buy into folklore. But there was something about Joseph’s certainty, the way he spoke with such conviction, that made me pause. I asked him what he meant.
“They’re the sales,” Joseph said quietly, “the elders of the forest. We’ve lived with them for generations. We know they exist, but we respect them. We don’t go looking for them. And we definitely don’t share that knowledge with outsiders.”
Chapter 3: The Warning
I could have dismissed Joseph’s words as superstition, but I didn’t. Over the years, I had learned that indigenous knowledge often contained truths that Western science had overlooked. So, I listened. Joseph explained how his people had maintained a peaceful coexistence with these creatures, honoring their territory, acknowledging their right to remain hidden. He spoke of the pact between his people and the sales, a relationship built on respect and mutual understanding.
But Joseph was also warning me. “You’re treading into their territory,” he said. “If you push too far, if you cross into areas they’ve marked, they won’t tolerate it anymore. They’ll see you as a threat, and they’ll eliminate the problem.”
I should have listened to him. I should have walked away and never pushed further into the forest. But the scientist in me couldn’t let it go. I had to know. I had to understand. So, I continued my research, quietly documenting the signs Joseph had warned me about: claw marks on trees too high for a bear, tracks that didn’t fit any known species, kills that didn’t match normal predator behavior.
Chapter 4: The Discovery
Two weeks after meeting Joseph, I began finding signs that couldn’t be explained away. Tree bark scratched at impossible heights, 8 feet and higher, gouges deep enough to suggest claws of incredible size. Tracks appeared near a creek, too large to be a bear’s, too elongated to belong to any known predator. And then came the kill—a deer carcass, stripped clean with surgical precision. No bear, no mountain lion, no wolf could have done this.
It was at this point that I started setting up my own cameras, not the official research equipment, but personal cameras I had bought for wildlife photography. I disguised them carefully, knowing full well that I was violating Joseph’s warning, but I couldn’t stop myself. This could be the discovery of a lifetime, something that would change everything.
Three weeks later, I had the footage. It was just after dawn, the light barely strong enough to capture clear images, but enough to show a massive shape moving through the trees. It was only visible for a few seconds, but it was enough. The creature was upright, easily 7 feet tall, covered in dark fur, moving with a speed and grace that seemed unnatural for something that large.
I watched the footage again and again, trying to convince myself that it was a bear standing upright, or a person in a suit. But the proportions were all wrong. The movement was wrong. This was something else.
Chapter 5: Crossing the Line
I shouldn’t have shown Joseph the footage. I should have respected his warning, understood that some knowledge wasn’t meant to be uncovered. But I was too excited. I wanted proof. So, when I saw him again, I showed him the video.
He watched it in silence, and when the clip ended, he closed the laptop. His face was hard, disappointed, maybe even a little sad. “You didn’t listen,” he said quietly.
I tried to explain. I told him that this discovery could change everything, that I was doing this for science, for the future. But Joseph wasn’t convinced. “You’ve crossed a line,” he said. “You’ve broken our trust. These beings don’t want to be discovered. They don’t want to be studied. You don’t understand the consequences of what you’re doing.”
Chapter 6: The Consequences
Joseph took me to a cave, a place I had never noticed before, despite passing it countless times. It was hidden, camouflaged by the forest, and I followed him inside, feeling an uneasy sense of anticipation. The air was thick with a musky odor, something wild and primal, but the moment we stepped inside, I saw it.
There, curled in the darkness, was a massive creature, its fur dark and matted, its body impossibly large. It was breathing deeply, and as my eyes adjusted to the dim light, I saw the massive hands, the elongated fingers, the sharp claws that were clearly capable of incredible strength.
And then, it opened its eyes. Amber eyes that locked onto mine with an intensity that made my heart freeze in my chest. For a moment, I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe. All I could do was stare back at the creature, knowing that I had crossed a line I could never uncross.
Joseph’s voice broke the silence. “We need to leave. Now.”
The creature didn’t make a sound, didn’t move, but I could feel the weight of its gaze, the weight of its understanding. It knew we were there. It knew we had invaded its world.
Chapter 7: The Price of Discovery
We left the cave, but the creature’s eyes stayed with me, burned into my memory. Joseph didn’t say anything until we were safely away from the den, but I could tell he was angry. Angry at me for ignoring his warnings, angry that I had pushed too far. “You almost died,” he said quietly. “If I hadn’t been there, if I didn’t have history with Takakota, you would have been dead. They don’t tolerate outsiders. They don’t tolerate threats.”
I had made a mistake. A huge mistake. I had violated their world, their territory, and I had endangered myself, Joseph, and everyone involved.
Chapter 8: The Burden of Knowledge
After that day, I never returned to the forest. I never tried to study them again. The footage, the evidence I had collected, remained locked away, hidden. I didn’t report it. I didn’t publish it. I didn’t tell anyone what I had seen.
Joseph became my teacher, guiding me in the ways of the sales, teaching me to understand the boundaries, to respect their privacy. But it came at a cost. I couldn’t share what I knew. I couldn’t tell the world about the creatures that walked in the shadows, the beings that had survived for centuries by staying hidden.
For 27 years, I kept the secret. I kept it because I had promised Joseph, because I understood the consequences of exposure. But now, as I grow older, I realize that the knowledge I carry may die with me. And I wonder if I have done the right thing.
The sales are still out there, hidden in the forests of the Pacific Northwest. They are not monsters. They are people, living by their own rules, maintaining their own society. They deserve to remain hidden, to live in peace. But I can’t help but wonder how much longer that peace will last. How much longer they can stay hidden in a world that is becoming harder and harder to escape.
