Hart Case Unmatched

              .REftRSNCE OOTWun  S^V^L-'W  F< ■-  case  Search, trial kept state,on edge  ■■"-*•*  By MARY HARGROVE  It was one of the most bizarre  crimes in the history of the state.  Three little Girl Scouts sleeping  within a few hundred yards of their  counselors were murdered in the  night without a sound, their mutilated bodies tossed on a foot-worn  trail outside their tent.  And in the nearly two years following the slayings at Camp Scott,  Oklahomans have been treated to a  parade of events almost as phenomenal as the original killings.  Perplexed Oklahomans have  warily watched the state's most  massive and controversial manhunt,  the discovery of strange writings on  a cave wall, the sensational testimony of a convicted felon at the preliminary hearing, accusations of  unethical   conduct   lodged   against  both the defense and the original  prosecutor, and last-minute evidence at the trial indicating another  suspect may have surfaced.  THE SAGA OF Gene Leroy Hart  began when he was charged with the  Camp Scott murders 10 days after  the June 13, 1977, slayings.  A Cherokee Indian from Locust  Grove, Hart, 35, was serving 105  years in prison when he sawed his  way out of the Mayes County jail in  September 1973.  Described as oneof ttu mo i experienced woodsmen in the state and  aided by relatives in the area, Hart  eluded lawmen until April 6, 1978,  when they closed in on him in a ramshackle hut in the Cookson Hills  That capture culminated 10  months of intensive searching by  local, state and federal law enforcement agencies. In the course of the  state's largest manhunt, tracking  dogs, helicopters, airplanes with infrared sensors, 200 lawmen and 400  volunteers wandered through rattlesnake and tick infested woods combing for clues,  "Positive proof and invaluable  evidence,'' including f ihgerprints  lifted from the bodies, surfaced  M  , according to various law en-  t  sources, only  Iq J^^L  scorned as rumor the next week.  THE CONFLICTING reports underlined rumors that dissension and  petty jealousy among the various  agencies was hampering the search,  something authorities hotly denied.  As the search dragged on, a  stunned and sympathetic public responded in the only way it knew  how. Reward funds sprouted daily,  some for tips leading to Hart's capture, others for Hart's defense. Okla-  homanseven established a  memorial fund for two tracking  dogs. One had died of heat stroke,  the other when it was hit by a car.  Reports from a variety of Indians  who claimed to be in contact with  Hart sent lawmen scurrying. Members of the American Indian Movement vowed to protect Hart, whom  they charged might be murdered by  overzealous lawmen who wanted to  use him as a scapegoat.  Hart's capture did little to tone  down the momentum of strange  events that seemed to characterize  the case.  During   the   month-long  prelii  nary hearing and in later court at  tions before the trial, both Hartf  cocky and untested defense atto  ney, Garvin Isaacs, and the politi  ally ambitious chief prosecutor, S  Wise, would find their own actions  under public scrutiny.  ISAACS, AN UNKNOWN Okla  homa City attorney, was the first to  feel the backfire of testimony whev  his witness, convict Jimmy Doi  Bunch, testified that Isaacs had pro  mised to help him with his parole i  he swore that Hart had not confessed  to Bunch.  Bunch testified Hart told him he  awoke bloodied and drunk in a cave  in June 1977 and was not sure  whether he had killed the girls.  Isaacs had expected Bunch, wh(  Sec CASE, page 4A