During the historic gold rush era around 1898, an expedition consisting of six men—Austrian-German prospectors Fritz and Johann, two young greenhorn laborers from St. Louis, Missouri, and two Gwich'in Indian guides—traveled into the remote interior near the southwest slopes of the Beaver Mountains along modern-day Billy Goat Creek. After two weeks of constructing a windowless log cabin to support a multi-year gold panning operation, the two Gwich'in guides went berry picking along the mountain slopes. They returned to camp in absolute terror with empty rifles, explaining that a giant, roaring 'hairy man' had systematically stalked them down the mountain, aggressively throwing stones and breaking trees, forcing them to fire defensive shots into the air. Minutes later, the entire party witnessed a massive dark figure pacing and zigzagging through the timber across the creek, roughly 200 yards away. As they retreated inside the cabin, a barrage of grapefruit-sized rocks began slamming into the log walls and coming through the uncompleted roof structure.
Fritz peered out a corner structural gap and observed the creature deliberately stomping and splashing through the creek channel in a display of dominance, periodically lobbing heavy rocks with effortless ease. Terrified by the escalation, the two Gwich'in guides packed their dogs and provisions and abandoned the expedition to flee toward the Yukon River. Fritz, Johann, and the two rookies decided to form a united front; they flung the cabin door open and unleashed a frantic volley of rifle fire at the entity as it crouched low to the water at a 125-yard distance, believing they inflicted a mortal wound as it thrashed into the brush making an undocumented guttural sound. To protect the camp, they chained their remaining two dogs to the forward corners of the cabin, though the terrified animals did nothing but attempt to burrow under the foundation logs. Weeks later, following a light snowfall, one of the younger laborers went to break river ice for water using his rifle butt; upon dipping his bucket, a piercing whistle erupted directly overhead, and he spotted the creature crouching inside the tree line across the narrow channel before it vanished. Soon after, the entity began executing nightly acoustic campaigns, surrounding the cabin at dusk with terrifying, synchronized group screams and bellowing roars.
The situation peaked when the two laborers returned from setting Snowshoe hair rabbit snares to discover the 9-foot creature actively peeking around the back corner of the cabin at them. The four men launched an immediate tracking mission into the snow, pursuing the prints for four miles before they vanished in an open creek. Returning to camp, they discovered the cabin door flung wide open; their two dogs, the harvested rabbit, and a massive sack of cornmeal had been stolen. Furthermore, one of their pack mules was discovered with its neck partially broken and its hind leg completely torn off, requiring them to put the animal down. Defeated, the remaining prospectors loaded their sole surviving mule, fashioned makeshift snowshoes, and abandoned their mining claim to flee the drainage before total winter freeze-out.
