Original subtitles

To find the truth on this show,

you will have to rely on your animal instincts.

Beyond Belief, Fact or Fiction.

Hosted by Jonathan Frakes.

We live in a world where the real and the unreal

live side by side, where substance

is disguised as illusion, and the explanations

are unexplainable.

Can you separate truth from fantasy?

To do so, you must break through the web of your experience

and open your mind to things beyond belief.

The show you're about to see is centered

around mysterious creatures, animals

whose power to influence lives is

both remarkable and unexplainable.

What is truly behind the mysteries

that animals seem to possess?

Take this elephant.

Even a simple question like how many legs does it have

can be difficult to answer.

You are about to see stories that

will challenge your judgment.

Are they fact or fiction?

We'll tell you at the end of our show.

But keep in mind that these stories

have something in common with the legs of this elephant.

There's something about them you can count on.

The motorcycle has held a mystique for Americans

since the '50s.

Movies like "The Wild One" and "Easy Rider"

have encouraged the image of the cyclist

as the glamorous rebel of the open highway.

And today, motorcycles have joined

the ranks of classic cars as valuable examples of Americana.

Greg Hanson never had much interest in motorcycles.

He's much more into horses these days.

But he's about to encounter a motorcycle

that will change the road map of his entire life.

Barton Horse Ranch

used to be a thriving showcase of championship thoroughbreds.

My grandfather ran the ranch for 40 years

with pride and tender loving care.

Prolonged illness sidelined him and the ranch was neglected.

Before he died, he was forced to sell off almost all

of his horses, except for his favorite, Nugget.

Hey, Nugget, thought you looked kind of lonely out here.

Brought you a little surprise.

Yeah.

Miss Grandpa don't you?

I do too.

He sure left me with a mess here.

I know he didn't mean to, but--

I don't know how I'm going to save this place.

My grandfather left his ranch to me.

So if you have any ideas, yeah, you tell me.

His dying wish was that I

restore it to its former glory.

My mother called me almost every day from her home

in Los Angeles.

She knew I was in a difficult spot,

and she wanted to give me support.

Did you check with the bank about the loan?

Yeah.

And they turned me down.

I'm not surprised.

I don't want to break Grandpa's heart,

but I'm going to have to sell the ranch.

Oh, Greg, I'm so sorry.

I know how much that ranch has always meant to you.

Spent all those summers there as a little boy

and had such a great time.

Mom, I'm going to have to call you back.

No, Nugget's out of the corral.

I love you too.

Bye.

Nugget.

All right, how did you get the gate open?

Where you at, boy?

I sense an oncoming carrot embargo.

Nugget.

I'm playing hide and seek with a horse.

I need to get a life.

Nugget, what are you doing back?

If you're looking for company, I am it.

Wow, this place could use some work.

I might have missed it all together

if it hadn't been for Nugget.

I couldn't believe my eyes, a Harley Davidson motorcycle.

Where does it come from?

I didn't remember my grandfather ever owning one.

How long had it been there?

Nugget, this is weird.

I thought it might

be fun to ride around the ranch, but I needed money

a lot more than I needed fun.

Yes, we should sell it.

Think we should fix it up?

I called the local motorcycle shop

and spoke with the owner, Danny Gaines,

about getting parts for the old bike.

I gave him the serial number and Gaines

told me that he'd call back as soon as he found the parts.

I thought that if I could clean up that bike

and get it running, I might be able to sell

it and use the money to pay off some of the bills.

I didn't have to wait long for Danny Gaines to call back.

Hello, Greg, it's Danny, Danny Gaines

over here Danny's Hog Heaven.

Hi.

That was quick.

So do you have the parts?

See, the thing is I couldn't get those exact parts.

So tell you what I'm going to, I'm

going to take the whole bike off your hands for $1,500.

$1,500?

It's a junker.

You know, come on.

It's got to be worth at least 3.

1,750.

I wasn't prepared to give

up the Harley that quickly.

I wasn't sure what it was worth, but I thought that $1,500

might be a little low.

Gaines continued up the ante until he hit $10,000.

His final offer, he said, but something didn't feel right.

Um-- look, I think I want to think about it for a while.

Yeah.

I called my mother

and told her about the motorcycle

and the $10,000 offer.

This is so strange.

And Nugget led you to it.

Why don't you hold off for a while.

Remember that biker I rode cross country with?

Well, he owns a motorcycle shop.

So if you give me that serial number, I'll run it by him.

5 3 0--

I don't have a pencil.

Wait, wait, wait.

My mom's friend

at the Valley Bike Shop checked out the serial number

of the Harley.

Later that same day, she received a very

interesting conference call.

A team of attorneys representing talk show host Jay Leno

was interested in purchasing the vintage motorcycle.

The next day, I received a personal visit

from somebody who never dropped by the ranch

before, not in all the time he lived nearby.

This was getting real interesting.

Greg.

It's Danny, Danny Gaines.

Hey.

How are you?

This is a hard place to find.

I'll tell you that.

I wasn't expecting you.

Sorry to barge in on you, but this couldn't wait.

So this is the bike, huh?

Yep.

It's in worse shape than I thought.

Look, I'll be real honest with you.

I got somebody interested in this old hog.

I got him up to $15,000.

That's about as high as he's going to go.

But it's a take it or leave it deal.

And he needs to know right now.

So here's the check.

$15,000? - Yeah.

Well, if I were you, I'd grab it while the grabbing is good.

Hey, easy boy, easy.

All Right?

What's wrong?

Probably something spooked him.

Anyway--

Hold up. I gotta get the phone.

Hold on, wait a second.

Why don't you to take the check

and then I'll just wheel this bike right on out of here.

Just hold on a second.

I'll be right back.

OK?

If Nugget hadn't interrupted,

I might have taken that check.

But I'm sure glad I didn't.

Hello.

Hi, mom.

You haven't sold that Harley yet, have you?

No, I didn't sell it yet.

Why you got an offer?

Sure do.

Are you sitting down?

$2 million dollars?

Take it.

I already did.

Wait.

Why would somebody pay that much money for this motorcycle?

Oh, they told me to tell you be

sure and look under the seat.

OK, thanks, Mom.

Look under the seat.

What do you, brother?

No, thanks.

I got a better offer.

To Priscilla, Love Elvis.

Legend has it that Elvis gave Priscilla a motorcycle that

has disappeared over the years never

to be recovered until now.

That is if our story is really true.

But did this story really happen?

If so, how did the motorcycle mysteriously appear

on Greg Hanson's property?

And what stroke of fate allowed his horse

to keep him from closing the deal at a lower price?

Is this story of the legendary lost Harley the truth?

Or are we just recycling another lie?

We'll tell you whether this story

is true or false at the end of our show, but coming up next--

I'm telling you, there's something wrong with that dog.

Every time he howls, somebody in this building dies.

We're not saying that he's the cause of it.

We just want him out of here.

When we return, the howling of a dog

is the premonition of death on Beyond Belief, Fact or Fiction.

If the average dog is man's best friend,

then what accolades does a seeing eye dog deserve?

These invaluable animals provide the eyes

for those who cannot see.

Within their staunch hearts lie the power to protect and guide

their owners from harm.

But the dog at our next story seems to possess

another kind of power.

And protection from harm is nowhere in sight.

Lloyd Weeks

has been blind since birth.

The most important thing in Lloyd's life is his dog Buff.

Not only are they close friends, but Buff has been his eyes

for the past eight years.

Hey.

Hey, Lloyd, what's up?

You're finally getting some painting done.

Yeah, how do you know that?

Hey, I may be blind, man, but I can still smell paint.

Can you smell what color it is?

Of course, whatever's on sale?

Hey, Buff, how you doing, baby?

He's the best.

I don't know what I would do without him.

Everyone in the building

was fond of Lloyd and Buff until late one evening

when the howling started.

Lloyd, are you in there?

Lloyd, I'm getting a lot of complaints.

You're going to have to keep Buff quiet.

My husband and I can't sleep with that dog

howling like that.

I know. I know.

I'm very sorry.

But I don't know what's gotten into him.

See, he seems to be OK now.

Something must have spooked him, because this

never happened before.

All right, Lloyd. All right.

Good night.

Just keep him quiet, will you?

Good night, Rick.

Early the next morning, Rick

made a horrifying discovery.

During the night, the tenant in apartment 1B

hanged himself in his bathroom.

The coroner's office estimated the time of death

as around midnight, exactly one hour after Lloyd's dogs

stopped howling.

Five days later Buff howled again.

And another tenant died.

For the next two weeks, the building was quiet.

And then the howling started again.

Rick.

Rick, you've got help me.

It's Roy.

I think it's his heart.

Rick tried to revive Roy.

It was hopeless.

He died of a massive heart attack exactly one hour

after the howling had stopped.

I'm telling you, there's something wrong with that dog.

Every time he howls, somebody in this building dies.

We're not saying that he's a cause of it.

We just want him outta here.

Lloyd would never let Buff go.

The dog is his eyes.

Would you give up your eyes?

There's something wrong here.

People are dying.

If Lloyd won't get rid of that dog, then Lloyd goes too.

He's blind.

I can't evict a blind man.

Then we're all we've leaving.

Ain't that right?

Look, the dog hasn't howled for a week.

Why don't we give him one more chance?

Maybe whatever it was it's over.

And what if it isn't over?

Who's going to die next time?

You?

Me?

Him?

It?

Which one of us?

I'm truly sorry about all of this.

But you won't have to worry about Buff and I anymore,

because we're moving out.

The day Lloyd moved out, Rick felt

guilt and anger at himself.

But before Lloyd was out the door, Rick would feel terror.

I feel really bad about this.

Where are you going to go?

Buff and I are going to visit my sister.

She's always wanted me to come.

Now is the time.

What about the puzzle

Well, you keep it, because I'm coming back here one day.

And we're going to finish that thing together.

OK?

Here's my card.

Call me if you need anything.

Oh, buddy, you're not going to start that again, are you?

Rick couldn't

help what he was feeling.

It's going to be all right.

Maybe Rick

would be the next to die.

I know.

I love you, too.

It's going to be all right.

Rick

was relieved to see Lloyd go.

The last howling had frightened him.

Hopefully, the lottery of death was over.

Yet he couldn't lose the fear he felt inside.

The following day, two police officers

came to Rick's building.

They informed him that a man was killed by a runaway truck.

Rick's card was found in his pocket.

He went down to the morgue and identified

the body of Lloyd Weeks.

It broke his heart.

Lloyd and his dog Buff died exactly one

hour after the howling stopped.

And now it was clear who the final howling was met for,

Lloyd Weeks and his dog Buff.

Did the dog's bark really signify oncoming death?

Was Buff some kind of angel of death, foretelling doom?

Or was it mere coincidence that all those people died?

What about the death of Lloyd and Buff?

How ironic that a blind man and his seeing eye dog

would die this way.

Why didn't Buff lead Lloyd to safety?

Perhaps once Buff's bark foretold their oncoming doom

he was absolutely powerless to prevent it.

What's your opinion?

Are we telling you a true story of real substance?

Or are we just barking at the moon?

We'll tell you whether this story

is true or false at the end of our show, but coming up next--

No, I'm planning on having me some venison for dinner.

I don't know.

Trouble is all that game is on their reservation land.

Can't hunt there.

Says who?

What are you up to?

I'm going to where the deer and the antelope play.

When we return, two hunters

enter a world of terror and fear on Beyond

Belief, Fact or Fiction.

Would you display this as a trophy?

Many hunters do.

And without getting into a debate on the pros and cons

of hunting, there is one thing we can all agree upon the roles

must be followed.

When a hunter goes too far to satisfy his own blood lust,

then some line between nature and humanity is violated.

Judd Fowler has no use for animals.

He only wants them to satisfy his gross appetites.

Before this day is through, he will

learn every living thing comes with something

you can never digest.

a soul.

Judd and I spent the last two days trying

to bag ourselves a six point buck with our new high

powered hunting bows.

We had no luck.

We were going home empty handed.

I say we just pack it in.

See a few next week.

No.

No, I'm not going to be giving up that easy.

That's what you said last week.

We didn't buy these bows here to impress the trees.

No, uh, uh, I'm planning on having

me some venison for dinner.

I don't know.

Trouble is all the game is on the reservation land.

We can't hunt there.

Says who?

What are you up to?

I'm going to where the deer and the antelope play.

I'm telling you, Judd, we're making a big mistake.

We're not supposed to be in here.

This is Indian land.

It's sanctified ground.

I know.

You already told me that.

OK, OK, I'm just telling you I've heard some weird stories

about this place.

Some peculiar things have happened up here.

Would you just shut up?

You're going to scare all the deer away.

I ain't the one yelling.

Don't Ah, man, don't do that.

Too late.

I already did.

Judd and I continued to wander deeper

and deeper into the forest.

Judd, wait a minute.

Somebody's watching us. - Nobody is watching us.

There's nobody around here but us.

Would you just give me a break.

Sorry, got a weird feeling.

Wait a minute.

Here that?

Yeah.

It's some big rig going down the hill there somewhere.

No.

It sounds like a drum.

Drums, yeah, right.

This is the last time that I go hunting with you.

You are a pain in the butt.

Oh, mama.

I got me a buck.

I don't think so, Judd.

He's not very big.

He's big enough.

One shot right through the heart.

Ha Ha. I got him.

You missed him.

No, I didn't.

I got him.

No, no, come on, Judd. You missed him.

Come on, let's go back.

I did not miss him.

He's up there, laying up there somewhere.

Now hear that.

Those are drums.

Yeah, they're drums.

So what?

So who is playing them?

I don't know.

And I don't care. But I got my deer.

He's laying up there dead somewhere.

And I'm going to get him. - I'd say you got him.

We're Going back.

We're going back.

Let's go back.

Late in the afternoon by the time

we got back to our truck, I was relieved

to get out of the reservation forest and away from the drums.

Judd was still talking about the buck that got away.

I'm coming back here tomorrow.

I'm going to find my buck and I'm going to get me another.

And you ain't coming.

I don't want to come.

I don't any part of that place.

I don't know what you are so afraid of.

I mean, it was just some kids playing around

with some old oil drum or something.

Wait.

Would you look over there?

That looks like your buck.

That is not my buck.

I killed my buck.

I'm going to kill this one too.

Hey, he's getting away

Judd, no.

No!

Sorry about your friend.

Thanks.

The deer that caused the accident, I

just wanted you to know it wasn't killed by your truck.

It was killed by an arrow.

What?

It's an old Indian arrow.

Not one of yours.

Old Indian arrow?

Yeah.

Come on.

I'll show you.

I don't get it.

That deer was laying right here, dead as a post.

The trooper led me

into where the deer had fallen.

But the deer was gone.

The arrow on the side was an artifact

from an early Indian tribe, the same tribe whose

property we trespassed on.

What happened here?

Was Judd's death an ironic coincidence or revenge

executed by the Indian spirits?

Maybe the deer who blocked the truck

was just wounded by someone in the immediate area.

If so, then why were no other hunters found nearby

and how do you explain the presence of the Indian arrow?

Have you already decided whether this story is fact or fiction?

Or are you still hunting for the truth.

We'll tell you whether this story

is true or false at the end of our show, but coming up next--

How could you?

Trula, you got to understand, these pictures

are very important to me.

My grandfather was right about you.

Your heart is not pure.

When we return, a young man

has to face the threat of a deadly tribal legend on Beyond

Belief, Fact or Fiction.

Almost every culture has some object

that's supposed to ward off evil spirits,

from gold amulets to the decorated

spears of the medicine man to a simple rabbit's foot.

Man has a basic need to protect himself from the unknown.

And it could be a major mistake not

to take the fears and superstitions

of another culture seriously.

Jason Reid came to the native village

to study their primitive society.

For now, love is in the air.

But soon, the air will be filled with the sounds

of primal screams.

American graduate student

Jason Reid has been living with the Bentu tribe

deep in the lush rain forest of Brazil for the past two months.

He's writing his master's thesis on

the behavioral and cultural traditions

of the primitive tribe.

Bentu people's chieftain has allowed

the young American access with certain restrictions

that he must honor.

It's finished.

That's great.

What are you going to use it for?

It's called a dream catcher.

And the elders of my tribe use it

for guidance and understanding.

I can catch your dreams with that

and find out many things about you.

All you'll find out is that I dream about you every night.

Please, Jason, don't say those things.

My grandfather would never approve of our love.

Why?

Because he's a chief and you're a princess.

I'm just a common American.

It is the tradition of our tribe.

You know how sick he's been.

I don't what to upset him.

What he doesn't know won't upset him.

You have broken our trust.

You say you come here to study.

But you are only interested in my granddaughter.

She's just helping me understand your ways.

That's all it is.

There's nothing else going on, I swear.

I see no love in your heart for Trula.

I warn you.

Stay away.

No problem.

I'm just here to do my research.

Then I'll leave.

I have great respect for you, Chief Yuka.

Jason

did not heed the warning of the great chief

and continued his pursuit of the beautiful young princess.

Within the week, the chief's illness became worse

and he died with his loving granddaughter by his side.

What had started as a summer romance,

now took on greater significance for the princess

for she knew her grandfather had died with anger in his heart.

I'm really sorry about your grandfather.

He was a great man.

Yes, he was.

I loved him very much.

So now what happens?

I'm just curious.

There is a sacred ceremony where my grandfather's spirit

will leave his body and enter a crow, which then takes flight.

No one is allowed in the hut until his spirit

has been released.

Wow.

I'd love to get some pictures of that.

You're not listening to me.

Such an act would show great disrespect for my people

and my grandfather.

You're right.

I didn't mean to be disrespectful.

I would never do anything like that.

Don't.

I'm sorry.

It's not the right time.

I understand.

In the tradition of the Bentu,

the chief was laid out in state.

He was dressed in ceremonial robes made from the feathers

of birds, including those from the most

sacred of all, the crow.

The next day before the ceremony started,

Jason allowed ambition to win out over honor.

He disobeyed the ancient funeral custom

for his own selfish gain.

How could you?

Trula, you've got to understand.

These pictures are very important to me.

My grandfather was right about you.

Your heart is not pure.

Trula, wait.

Trula.

Trula, wait.

In the tribal laws of the Bentu

tribe it is written that outsiders must never

be allowed to interfere with the rights

and customs of the tribe.

Punishment for this offense will be swift and sure.

And the trees will echo with the sound of justice.

The soul of the offender may redeem

itself in the future world.

These laws are kept in the holiest of sanctuaries

in a secluded part of the forest located

under the sign of the crow.

So Jason Reid pays the ultimate price for superiority,

for failing to heed the warnings all around him.

But wasn't really the crows that killed or knowing the legend?

Did he imagine that he was being stalked by a deadly enemy?

Perhaps the bird was only as powerful as Jason's

own imagination.

Is this story an admirable retelling of an actual event?

Or is it really nothing to crow about?

We'll tell you whether this story

is true or false at the end of our show, but next--

Lucky Gene Avery

had been running a crooked poker game out of the Deadwood Saloon

for the past six months.

When When we return, a crooked card game

is visited by a mysterious stranger on Beyond

Belief, Fact or Fiction.

There are so many expressions in our everyday life

taken from the game of cards, poker face, the Joker's Wild,

ace up your sleeve, just to name a few.

It's because the game of cards reflects life itself.

There are winners and losers, skill combined with luck.

The boys and the Deadwood Saloon loved a good card game.

In fact, there's another card phrase

that describes them perfectly--

lowdown, no good, double dealing liars.

Lucky Gene Avery

had been running a crooked poker game out of the Deadwood Saloon

for the past six months.

Jimmy, that's to you.

I know.

I'm going to 500.

Wally Pratt, a middle aged salesman,

was Lucky's latest pigeon.

Me and my buddy Carl played along so we had a full table.

How many cards?

Two.

Well, I'm going to call that 500 and raise it 3,000.

Lucky had us trained to pick up our cues.

Too rich for my blood.

Me, too.

Poor Wally, he never could figure out

how Lucky could beat him every time.

Now, Wally was already in for more than he could afford.

But he didn't want to fold.

Besides, he-- uh-- he had a good hand.

We could all see it in the mirror behind him.

You're about to see what made lucky so lucky.

You could almost cut the tension with a knife.

Me and my buddy Carl had a side been on how long it

would take to clean Wally out.

I had under an hour.

And it was going on 59 minutes.

I'll call your Ace.

But I don't have the cash.

This watch is worth at least $3,000.

My wife gave it to me for our anniversary.

Throw it in.

Beat this, cowboy, full house.

Whoa, better put on the brakes there.

Seems that my house is fuller than your house.

59 minutes and 42 seconds.

I won the bet.

I sensed trouble.

So I motioned for Carl to join me at the table.

Something is wrong here.

I drop by each week for a friendly game of poker.

And each week I lose, big time, no matter how good my hand is.

You accusing me of cheating, Wally?

It's so intense inside the saloon,

we forget there's a whole modern world going on outside.

Man, his wife's going to give him hell when he shows

up at home without that watch.

Who cares?

Just so long as he shows up next week so we can take him again.

He ain't going to come back.

Oh, he'll be back.

Losers always come back because they think they can win.

It was June 3, 1997, a week

since we tossed Wally out.

And he still hadn't come back.

lucky even put on his Hawaiian shirt just to change his luck.

None of the locals would play with him.

They didn't want to get cheated out of their money.

Then one day, the old man

and that dog came in looking for some action.

And we was open for business.

Anybody here interested in a friendly game of poker?

Are

You're going to need some money for that old man.

This enough?

Looks like plenty.

Have a seat.

That old man sure does look familiar.

I can't seem to be able to place him though.

He just looks like another mark to me.

Right from the beginning,

things started going bad.

First of all, the old man had the confidence of a winner.

And then there was that dog sitting there with his eyes

fixed on Lucky, almost like he was daring him to cheat.

And then we saw a Lucky lose a hand.

And that's something nobody had ever seen before.

Lucky was actually starting to sweat.

It was bad enough trying to stare down the old man,

but that dog looked right through you.

Seemed sort of like the dog was reading Lucky's mind

and sending a telepathic message to the old man.

All I know is the old man was playing fair and square.

And he was cleaning Lucky's clock.

7, 8, 9, 10, all diamonds.

You could tell

Lucky wanted to go under the table for his lucky cards.

But the old man was watching real close.

And what the old man didn't catch, the dang dog did.

Must have been a police dog or something.

For the rest of the afternoon,

Lucky did nothing but lose.

All the while, he continued to have trouble breathing.

He complained that it felt like something

was tightening around his neck.

Something that felt an awful lot like a noose.

You're the loser Lucky.

Catch you cheating again, and I'm

not going to be so easy on you.

Who was that guy?

I'm telling you I've seen that old man somewhere before.

But where?

The answer was right there on the wall,

a picture taken in 1902 of the late Roy

Bean, the hanging judge.

And he'd been dead for years.

But that old man sure looked like him.

And it was definitely the same dang dog.

What happened here?

Could this really have been Judge Roy Bean or just

someone who looked like him?

How do you explain the gold watch in the photo?

Was it always in the picture?

Why hadn't anyone noticed it before?

Are we giving you a straight deal here?

Or do you think we're really bluffing?

Coming up, we'll find out which of our stories

tonight were fact and which were fiction,

when Beyond Belief returns.

Let's look at our stories and see which are fact

and which are fiction.

How about the story of the Elvis motorcycle that Jay Leno paid

millions for, true or false?

They told me to tell you be sure and look under the seat.

OK, thanks, Mom.

Bye.

Look under the seat.

What do you say, bubba?

Uh-- no thanks.

I got a better offer.

To Priscella, love Elvis.

Although this story has been spread as true,

it never happened.

It's false.

What about the story of the blind man's dog

and his bark of doom?

I know.

I love you, too.

It's going to be all right.

Did we base our story of the foreboding

dog on an actual event?

Yes, it happened, according to firsthand interviews conducted

by author Robert Tralins.

Let's take a look at the story of the hunter

who turns out to be prey.

Well, would you look over there.

That looks like your buck.

That is not my buck.

I got killed my buck.

And I'm going to kill this one, too.

Hey, he's getting away.

Judd, no.

Was this story of vengeance in the forest

based on a real event?

Not this time.

It never happened.

What about the story of the young man who refused to take

the native curse seriously?

Did the legend of the crow really take place?

Not a chance.

We made it up.

Now let's turn to the story of the card cheats

and the player that taught them a lesson.

You're the loser, Lucky.

Catch you cheating again, I'm not going to be so easy on you.

Did a story about a card game similar to this one

actually happen?

Yes, it did.

So how did you do with all of our stories

of mysterious animals?

Were you able to tell the difference

between fact or fiction?

Or were we able to prove that in both

the human world and the animal kingdom,

things can often appear beyond belief?

I'm Jonathan Frakes.

Join us with more stories on Beyond

Belief, Fact or Fiction.