Same cabin, different story. We had gotten a new town cop who had moved from back East and brought along his son, Barry, who was our age and had started attending our high school. Come fall Barry wanted to do some hunting so we invited him up to the ranch/cabin to hunt with us for the weekend. First day we get to the cabin, settle in, do a bit of hunting, eat dinner etc. finally we are getting settled in for the night and Barry insists on sleeping in the top bunk. My friend Ryan was in the middle bunk and Skip and I were in the double bunk on bottom. Just about the time we were drifting off to sleep the coyotes started their nightly serenade.
Barry bolts up, as much as he can with maybe 2 feet of headroom between his bunk and the roof, "Whats that!!??"
"Coyotes" I tell him.
"Will they bother us?"
"Probably not, they sound like they are off a ways........ besides.... its mostly bears we have to worry about" I say with a grin.
"BEARS!!??" Barry sits up again. "There are BEARS here??!!"
"Of course, what do you think did all this damage to the end of the cabin?"
Now, when they built the bunk room on the end of the cabin it was added with 2x4 walls and they didn't bother with things like real windows or insulation. The 'windows' were clear plastic sheeting covered with chicken wire that started halfway along the wall opposite the bunks and then wrapped around the corner and came halfway along the other wall towards the bunks. In many places, through holes in the plastic and the wood 'siding', you could see straight outside. In winter the only way you didn't wake up a meatsicle was you had the pot belly wood stove so hot you could just about read a book by the glow
So I tell him a tale about how that used to be an all-wood wall but some guy had been staying up there alone and a bear ripped through the wall, killed him and dragged his body off into the woods. When they fixed the cabin they didn't bother putting all wood back up since it didn't slow the bear down anyway. The other guys jump in with stories about hunters being killed and eaten by our 'Giant Western Coyotes', bears, mountain lions etc. Couple times I scratch on the cabin wall and then hush everybody with a "Dija hear that?! Somethings outside!" Meanwhile the nearby coyotes are on the trail of something and are really yapping up a storm which just helps with the 'ambiance'
Then I say:
"By the way, if those coyotes decide to come after us that roof probably won't slow them down any, so if you hear something digging its way through get out of that bunk quick."
"WHAT??!!" Barry bolts up again.
"Yeah, I have my rifle right here so you need to get out of that bunk and then I can shoot up through the roof and kill whatever is up there." This time he comes flying out of his bunk, grabs his rifle, and starts pacing. He is visibly shaken and trying to get us to switch bunks with him. Now I am concerned we went too far... don't need anyone getting shot because this guy is so scared. So we get him calmed down and back in his bunk.
About the time I was drifting off to sleep Barry says:
"I gotta poop."
"What?"
"I gotta poop."
"Just go use the outhouse."
Now the outhouse is a good 50 yards outside the front door of the cabin back in some trees. The cabin was up in an area of tall pine trees so you have the noise of wind in the trees, the associated creaking and popping but also there were some other old cabins to the side that had mostly fallen in but some walls still stood etc. Walking around with a lantern at night could be creepy even if you weren't already scared... well... poopless
"I am not going to the outhouse!"
"What else are you going to do?"
"I am going to poop in the trashcan."
"I don't want to smell that. You are not going to poop in the trashcan, just go use the outhouse."
"I am not going to the outhouse so something can kill me and eat me while I am pooping! Just let me poop in the trashcan!"
This goes on for a while. Finally I convince him that he can poop a little ways outside the cabin door with a lantern cranked up bright and we stand guard with our rifles. We will bury the mess in the morning. So Skip stands guard outside the cabin door to the left and Ryan to the right. I am just inside the cabin door 'watching the center' and area behind Barry. We placed the lantern on the ground a few feet outside the door. This is an opportunity that I just cannot pass up, as Barry is creeping out to his pooping spot I whisper to Ryan to wait until he squats and then pop a couple of rounds into one of the old cabin logs and yell something about 'eyes'.
To this day I can still see the image when Ryan fired those shots off. Barry going from squat to bolt-upright instantaneously, eyes as big as dinner plates and face as white as the surrounding snow. Then, pants around his ankles, he flies toward the cabin, leaps over the lantern and dives through the door.
If he was wound up before he is really wound up now, shaking like a leaf, checking and re-checking that his rifle is loaded etc. Eventually we have to confess the truth to get him to calm down. The expletives that flew from him after that are not fit for printing here
I sometimes wonder if Satan doesn't have a special place all warmed up for Ryan, Skip and I due to the fun we had at Barry's expense... but it sure was funny