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His thiev<strong>in</strong>g raids became considerably more challeng<strong>in</strong>g, as cab<strong>in</strong> owners upgraded locks and <strong>in</strong>stalled<br />
security systems that were far more complex than any he’d dealt with dur<strong>in</strong>g his brief time <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> workplace.<br />
Surveillance cameras became both difficult to <strong>in</strong>capacitate and widely used.<br />
And despite his fanatical caution on his thiev<strong>in</strong>g raids, dur<strong>in</strong>g which <strong>the</strong> primary rule was never to break<br />
<strong>in</strong>to an occupied cab<strong>in</strong>, <strong>the</strong> law of averages began to catch up with him. He f<strong>in</strong>ally experienced what he<br />
called “an anomaly.” Or maybe he got a touch sloppy or overconfident, after so many hundreds of<br />
successes.<br />
One midweek summer even<strong>in</strong>g <strong>in</strong> 2012, Kyle McDougle, whose family has owned property on North<br />
Pond for generations, decided to stay alone at <strong>the</strong> family’s cab<strong>in</strong>. McDougle was twenty at <strong>the</strong> time, and had<br />
heard hermit stories all his life. His grandfa<strong>the</strong>r especially liked tell<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong>m. McDougle was work<strong>in</strong>g for a<br />
fiber-optics firm, driv<strong>in</strong>g around <strong>in</strong> a big company truck that couldn’t fit on narrow roads, so he left <strong>the</strong> rig<br />
some distance away. It was probably <strong>the</strong> only time <strong>in</strong> his life, McDougle says, that he didn’t park a vehicle <strong>in</strong><br />
<strong>the</strong> cab<strong>in</strong>’s driveway. He crawled <strong>in</strong>to a sleep<strong>in</strong>g bag <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> cab<strong>in</strong>’s upstairs loft.<br />
“I wake up and I hear someone on <strong>the</strong> stairs and I see a flashlight,” recalled McDougle. He shouted a<br />
greet<strong>in</strong>g and got no response, and knew right away it wasn’t a family member show<strong>in</strong>g up <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> middle of<br />
<strong>the</strong> night. “I didn’t have a flashlight, or a knife, or a gun, and I’m trapped upstairs, so my immediate thought<br />
was to scare him, so I yelled, ‘Get <strong>the</strong> hell out of here!’ plus a whole bunch of swearwords, shout<strong>in</strong>g at <strong>the</strong><br />
top of my lungs.” With this, <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>truder immediately retreated or maybe tumbled down <strong>the</strong> stairs—“It was<br />
bang, bang, bang, bang, bang,” said McDougle—and fled out of <strong>the</strong> cab<strong>in</strong>.<br />
McDougle never saw <strong>the</strong> trespasser, but he noted that <strong>the</strong> screen was popped out of one of <strong>the</strong> cab<strong>in</strong>’s<br />
w<strong>in</strong>dows and propped aga<strong>in</strong>st a wall. “I was obviously very freaked out. I called <strong>the</strong> police, but <strong>the</strong>re wasn’t<br />
a heck of a lot <strong>the</strong>y could do.”<br />
Knight felt terrible about <strong>the</strong> <strong>in</strong>cident. “I hate to th<strong>in</strong>k that I scared someone like that,” he said. “That<br />
really bo<strong>the</strong>rs me.”<br />
As Knight aged, <strong>the</strong> population of North Pond gradually <strong>in</strong>creased, a few more homes built or expanded<br />
each year, families grow<strong>in</strong>g, more people <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> forest. Knight was alert for unusual sounds. He often heard<br />
hikers, but not too near his camp, and on those rare occasions when he sensed a person while he was mov<strong>in</strong>g<br />
through <strong>the</strong> trees, he had plenty of time to dash away and quietly hide.<br />
Except once. It was dur<strong>in</strong>g <strong>the</strong> day, sometime <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> 1990s, before he began walk<strong>in</strong>g almost exclusively at<br />
night and never on trails. He was on a lightly traveled path, and came around a bend, and with no advance<br />
warn<strong>in</strong>g, <strong>the</strong>re was someone else. Knight can’t say what <strong>the</strong> hiker looked like—he made no eye contact. He<br />
tried to put on a nonchalant face, but he felt panicky. Nei<strong>the</strong>r man stopped. Knight said, “Hi,” and <strong>the</strong> man<br />
said, “Hi,” and <strong>the</strong>y cont<strong>in</strong>ued on <strong>the</strong>ir separate ways.<br />
This was his only encounter for more than twenty years. <strong>The</strong>n, dur<strong>in</strong>g a cold w<strong>in</strong>ter day, while Knight<br />
was ensconced <strong>in</strong> his camp, he heard a group of people <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> forest, posthol<strong>in</strong>g through <strong>the</strong> snow. <strong>The</strong> steps<br />
grew louder and nearer, tree branches snapp<strong>in</strong>g like firecrackers, Knight’s distress ris<strong>in</strong>g, until he made <strong>the</strong><br />
decision to step out of his camp and assess <strong>the</strong> situation. He didn’t want to be seen, but he couldn’t risk<br />
anyone stumbl<strong>in</strong>g upon his home.<br />
He walked a dozen quiet steps and <strong>the</strong>re <strong>the</strong>y were, breath<strong>in</strong>g heavily <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> crisp air. Three men, three<br />
generations of <strong>the</strong> same family—son, fa<strong>the</strong>r, and grandfa<strong>the</strong>r—tromp<strong>in</strong>g happily through <strong>the</strong> woods after a<br />
day of ice fish<strong>in</strong>g. Knight ducked down, he said, but it was too late. He’d been spotted. Accord<strong>in</strong>g to Knight,<br />
one of <strong>the</strong> men shouted, “Hey!”