Game Camera Captures Mysterious Sounds At British Columbia Cabin

There's a video floating around YouTube right now that has me completely captivated, and I think anyone who spends time in the backcountry needs to see this one. The footage comes from a channel called Mr. Den, and it tells the story of Amy Caldwell and her brother Jason, who in the summer of 2014 set up two Bushnell Trophy Cam game cameras at their family's cabin along the upper Quinune River in British Columbia. The cabin sits about 12 miles south of Canal Flats, perched on a bench roughly 40 meters above a stretch of whitewater the locals call the Narrows—Class 3 rapids on a calm day, and significantly more dangerous when the snowpack is still melting off the Purcells. What makes this account so compelling isn't just the footage itself, but the way Amy tells it. She doesn't rush. She sets the scene with the kind of detail that only comes from someone who genuinely knows that land—the smell of the western red cedars, the sound of the river pushing through the canyon, the way the birds went quiet on that first afternoon without any obvious reason. Anyone who's spent real time in old-growth forest knows exactly what that kind of silence means. It's the kind of quiet that makes the hair on your neck stand up before your brain catches up with what your body is already telling you. Around 2 AM on one of those nights, Amy woke up to a sound she struggled to describe. Low, rhythmic, patterned—rise and hold and release—lasting maybe 40 seconds before fading back into the river noise. Jason heard it too, and over coffee the next morning he used a word that stuck with her: deliberate. Both of them knew it wasn't a bear. Both of them grew up in logging families in southeastern BC, where certain things get filed away rather than spoken about. And both of them remembered what their grandfather Earl had once said on that very porch—that the mountains above the bench were old in a way most mountains aren't, and that the people who lived in that valley before any road came through knew things about the upper drainage that his generation had chosen not to learn. That context matters, because what the game camera captured during the day is the reason Jason is alive. According to Amy, the footage shows something pulling her brother out of the rapids after he went over the rocks. She says she's never shown the full clip to anyone outside the family, and that the seconds after the 8-second mark still make her hands go cold. This is the kind of report that deserves attention. Trail camera footage from remote British Columbia, a credible witness with deep family ties to the area, and a grandfather's oral history that lines up with what Indigenous knowledge keepers across the Pacific Northwest have been saying for generations—that something old watches these valleys, and that it doesn't always behave the way the skeptics expect it to. Sometimes it pulls a man out of a river. The video runs long, and Amy takes her time building the story before getting to the footage, but it's worth every minute. Go find it on the Mr. Den channel and watch the whole thing. This one is going to stick with me.