I felt the presence of the one they call Sasquatch very strongly when I drove through the mountains north of Hinton, Alberta to the isolated Indian settlement of Small Boys’ Camp. I know him through the Toltec traditions as Andazi.

Once, while standing on the cliffs of Orcas Island and watching the starry sky, close by I heard an unearthly cry - half-human, half-animal. I should have felt the hair on the back of my neck stand up, but instead, I felt a great sense of peace and love. I had just heard an Andazi.

Then today, my friend, the Lakota medicine man, came to visit. I took him for prayer and ceremony to my cave. While I repaired my medicine wheel in the back of the cave, he played his flute towards the front. I looked up and saw quite clearly a bulky, grey shape behind him.

I stared at it for a few minutes. Then, it was gone. I asked him what music he had been playing and found out it had been the song of calling the ancient one whom the Cree call Git-chee-sabee. When he prepared to put his flute away, the beaded flute bag was gone.