Squonk

Squonk is a mythical creature reputed to live in the Hemlock forests of northern Pennsylvania. Hunters who have attempted to catch squonks have found that the creature is capable of evading capture by dissolving completely into a pool of tears and bubbles when cornered. The legend holds that the creature's skin is ill-fitting, being covered with warts and other blemishes and that, because it is ashamed of its appearance, it hides from plain sight and spends much of its time weeping.

Legends of squonks probably originated in the late nineteenth century, at the height of Pennsylvania's importance in the timber industry. The distribution was once fairly wide, the usual habitat being high plains where desert vegetation was abundant. History shows beyond dispute that, as these areas gradually changed to swampy, lake-dotted country the Squonk was forced to take to the water. Of distinctly low mentality it traveled constantly around the unacustomed marches in search of fodder. With time, it developed webbing between its toes, but only on the submerged left feet. Hence, on entering the water it could swim only in circles, and never got back to shore. 



The squonk is of a very retiring disposition, generally traveling about at twilight and dusk. Because of its misfitting skin, which is covered with warts and moles, it is always unhappy ; in fact it is said, by people who are best able to judge, to be the most morbid of beast.

Mr. J. P. Wentling, formerly of Pennsylvania, but now at St. Anthony Park, Minnesota, had a disappointing experience with a squonk near Mont Alto. He made a clever capture by mimicking the squonk and inducing it to hop into a sack, in which he was carrying it home, when suddenly the burden lightened and the weeping ceased. Wentling unslung the sack and looked in. There was nothing but tears and bubbles.

Moonlight nights are best for Squonk hunts, for then the animal prefers to lie quiet in its hemlock-home, fearing, should it venture forth, that it may catch a glimpse of itself in some moonlit pool. Sometimes you can hear one weeping softly to himself. The sound is a low note of pleading somewhat resembling the call of the Cross-feathered Snee.

Sources:

http://www.lumberwoods.com/pg31.htm




Written By Tripzibit on Jul 13, 2016 | 21:29

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