TONGUE-TIED BY THE TWO-TONGUES!

 

Is this what Malaya's mystifying two-tongued cryptids looked like? (created by me using Grok X1)

The days spanning Christmas and the New Year are traditionally ones filled with mystery and magic, a time of weirdness and wonder. So what better day than today, New Year's Eve, to present here on ShukerNature for your entertainment and enjoyument during this time the following cryptozoological conundrum?

In 1997, I included the following account in my book From Flying Toads To Snakes With Wings, hoping that someone reading it might be able to propose an identity for the mysterious creatures described, as I was thoroughly perplexed by them – but no-one ever did. Consequently, I can only assume that these cryptids left them as taxonomically tongue-tied as they have done with me. Nor have I ever uncovered any additional information concerning them. So, 26 years later, in 2023, I reprinted my account in my regular Alien Zoo column on mystery animals and animal mysteries for the British magazine Fortean Times as a fascinating crypto-riddle to ponder over during the festive season, just in case it did elicit a solution from someone that time. Once again, however, answer came there none.

 

My book From Flying Toads To Snakes With Wings (© Dr Karl Shuker/Llewellyn Publications)

Consequently, one year on from its appearance in Alien Zoo, and in the hope that the familiar phrase ""third time lucky" will indeed prove true on this occasion, here yet again is the my account recalling the tangled tale of the two-tongues, in case ShukerNature's redoubtable readers can provide the long-sought key to its locked box of beastly secrets:

On May 27 1939, Modern Wonder documented some 'ultra-mysterious' mammals, allegedly captured by a photographer in the Malayan jungles and later observed by bemused officials in Manila, in the Philippines. Each of the beasts (of unrecorded number) was described as being quadrupedal, weighing about 200 pounds, covered in a furry, mole-like pelage (i.e. dark, dense, and shiny?), with a raccoon-like head [masked?], a pair of owl-like eyes (thus large and staring?), and odd dentition - some of its teeth resembled a man's, others were cat-like – plus a fondness for bananas. Except for their extremely heavy weight (an error on the part of the original report?), there would seem to be a chance of identifying them with some known animal type – until, that is, their most distinctive characteristic is revealed.

For the description also stated that each of these beasts had two tongues! Furthermore, it alleged that they never drank, because they absorbed all of the moisture that they required directly through their skins. This is generally a feature of certain animals living in water or in moist habitats, but the animals concerned are normally amphibians, fishes, and lower life forms, not mammals. Conversely, it is true that many desert-dwelling rodents rarely if ever drink water, because they obtain it from their food (e.g. juicy plant tissues) or from metabolic water released as they digest the dry components of their diet, but they do not absorb water through their skins.

 

 

Masked palm civet Paguma larvata, native to Peninsular Malaysia, named after its raccoon-like facial mask (© Denise Chan/Wikipedia – CC BY-SA 2.0 licence)

In general appearance (and excluding weight), they are reminiscent of some of the lesser-known, mask-faced forms of Malay civet and badger – elusive, short-furred creatures of nocturnal lifestyle and partial to fruit within their largely omnivorous diet. Moreover, the owl-like eyes call to mind the tarsiers - those orb-eyed, sucker-fingered, lemur-like primates indigenous to southeast Asia (including the Malay Archipelago), and sufficiently strange in appearance to those not familiar with these rarely-seen nocturnal creatures to attract surprise and newspaper attention.

 

Sunda stink (=skunk) badger Mydaus javanensis, native to Indonesia and Malaysia, photographed in Malaysia (© Thompson Hyggen – copyright-free)

Even so, none of those identities can reconcile the mystery beasts' two tongues and the ability to absorb moisture directly through their skins. Could these attributes have been based upon misunderstanding or mistranslation, rather than upon reality? As nothing more is on record regarding the photographer's mystifying finds, there is no way of knowing. 

 

Tarsiers are nothing if not goblinesque, even otherworldly, in appearance, especially to anyone unfamiliar with these curious yet harmless creatures (© LDC Inc Foundation/Wikipedia – CC BY-SA 3.0 licence / (© Pieere Fidenci/Wikipedia – CC BY-SA 2.0 licence)

So there it is, the owl-eyed, twin-tongued, never-drinking plantain-eater – if nothing else (and confirming that I'm easily pleased!), it scans satisfyingly like the one-eyed, one-horned, flying purple people eater immortalised in a classic 1958 Sheb Wooley novelty song and 30 years later in a 1988 family movie directly inspired by it!

 

Failing abysmally in my attempts to generate a one-eyed, one-horned, flying purple people eater, here's a two-eyed, two-horned flying purple people eater instead! (created by me using Magic Studio)

Meanwhile, any thoughts or suggestions as to the two-tongues' possible identity, or any extra reports/information regarding them, would be very gratefully received!

 

A two-tongue with a banquet of bananas awaiting its pleasure! (created by me using Grok X1)

Incidentally, as some of you know, I've been experimenting with various AI image-generators, testing their capabilities and limitations so as to be better equipped to recognise AI-generated fake cryptozoologically-themed images with which the Net seems to be increasingly awash of late. So, as no image of the Malayan two-tongues has ever been created to my knowledge, I decided to put to the test two different AI image-generators that I've been exploring, Grok X1 and Magic Studio, and see how they performed when prompted to produce pictures of these bizarre beasts.

And, as I'm sure that those out there who are not AI fans will be delighted to learn, both programs were aptly rendered tongue-tied (or whatever the AI equivalent state is!) by the tortuous challenge posed by the two-tongues. Not only did they fail utterly to depict them as the very sizeable animals that anything weighing 200 lb must surely be (instead presenting what look far more like diminutive cubs!), but also, out of all the numerous images that they generated, only one, produced by Grok X1, actually featured creatures possessing two tongues apiece – and here it is:

 

A pair of two-tongues actually depicted with two tongues! (created by me using Grok)

Overall, Grok X1 was the superior creator with regard to this particular pictorial task, as it also created a number of images featuring creatures with a single but bilobed tongue that my own digital addition of a hand-drawn line separating the lobes into two separate tongues was sufficient to engender some satisfactory twin-tongued entities that I've included in this article. Even so, they still did not overly resemble the original 1977 verbal description of these creatures, quoted by me above.

As for Magic Studio: usually a very accurate depicter of animals (give or take some extra or deformed fingers/toes and the occasional additional leg, or two...): faced with providing an accurate portrayal of the two-tongues, it threw a veritable generative gasket, and yielded some illustrations of animals that bore no resemblance whatsoever to the two-tongues' verbal description. It even garbled my prompt for their tongues to be pink, bestowing upon its mixed-up mammals some portions of pink fur instead! However, albeit wholly inaccurate zoologically speaking, aesthetically some of the creatures thus created by Magic Studio were so attractive, appealing, and downright adorable that I couldn't bear to delete them. So here is a selection of them, in all of their delightful dottiness:

 

All three images created by me using Magic Studio

If nothing else, designers of prospective new cuddly toys could do a lot worse than be inspired by some of these ultra-cute beasties. You can pay me my 10% creator's commission later!

Today would have been the birthday of Nan, my maternal grandmother Gertrude Timmins (who once experienced a decidedly Fortean event of her own – click here to read all about it), who passed away peacefully in her sleep at the grand old age of 99 back in 1994. Just like me, and also like her daughter, my mother Mary Shuker, Nan loved wildlife and Nature in general, so I'm sure that she would have approved of my writing and presenting this fascinating fauna case here today on her birthday. God bless you Nan, and Mom, and all of my family, all of whom are long gone now but never forgotten by me. Ome day we shall be back together, never to be separated again.

 

My late grandmother, Gertrude Timmins, with Patch, my little wire-haired Jack Russell terrier (© Dr Karl Shuker)

Wishing all of my ShukerNature blog readers, and all of my Shuker In MovieLand blog readers too, a Happy New Year – may 2025 prove to be a kindly, successful year for you.

 

And it's toodle-pip from the two-tongues too! (created by me using Grok X1)

 

 

BIG BIRD IS BACK IN BRITAIN – TWICE OVER!

Exquisite 1860s illustrations of the common crane (left) and the white stork (right), two spectacular species making very welcome returns to Britain as re-establishing breeding birds (public domain)

There hasn’t been a great deal to be thankful for in 2020, but on the ornithological front Great Britain has two very notable reasons to consider this year a favourably memorable one. This is due to the very welcome return as potentially re-establishing UK breeding birds of two very sizeable, spectacular species. Veritable Big Birds of Sesame Street stature, in fact, at least when compared to most other feathered members of the British fauna, they were both formerly native here, but until now have been conspicuous only by their continued absence from our shores for several centuries, except as non-breeding vagrant visitors.

So what better way to end this dismal year than on an avian high, by documenting these two very significant success stories here as my final blog article for 2020 on ShukerNature.

 

CRANING FOR ATTENTION

A bird that commands attention for the simple fact that, at over 4 ft tall and sporting a wingspan of up to 8 ft across, it is difficult to overlook is the common crane Grus grus – and for especially good reason lately.

This is because, after having been exterminated in Britain by hunting and habitat destruction several centuries ago, during the 1600s, this stately long-necked species has recently made a dramatic comeback here, and for two wholly separate reasons.

 

Common cranes, painted by Edward Neale, 1890s (public domain)

Firstly, in 1979 a few individuals from mainland Europe returned to their former wetland homeland in Norfolk in eastern England and began to breed, gradually increasing their numbers during the next 40 years.

Secondly, conservation work to improve wetlands elsewhere in England eventually encouraged this greatly-welcomed prodigal bird to spread further afield too.

 

A pair of common cranes (© Олексій Карпенко/Wikipedia – CC BY-SA 4.0 licence)

In April 2020, the UK Crane Working Group was pleased to announce that crane numbers in Britain have reached their highest number for more than 400 years, with 56 breeding pairs here last year and 26 chicks successfully reared.

So if this very positive trend continues, with crane numbers increasing still further and its geographical range continuing to expand, it seems likely that before very much longer, wildlife enthusiasts in the UK may not have to crane their own necks too hard in order to catch sight of this elegant bird here once again.

 

STORKING A PLACE IN HISTORY

With the common crane gradually re-establishing itself in Britain after having previously died out here back in the 1600s, I'm delighted to say that another tall, equally spectacular bird is seeking to do the same after an even longer absence.

Standing up to 4 ft tall and boasting a wingspan of up to 7 ft, the white stork Ciconia ciconia is last known to have successfully nested in the UK way back in 1416, when a pair did so at St Giles' Cathedral in Edinburgh. Since then, this famous species has been but a rare non-breeding visitor to Britain from continental Europe – until last year, that is.

 

Adult male (left) and juvenile (right) white storks, painted by M.A. Koekkoek, from Ornithologia Neerlandica, Vol. 1, by E.D. van Oort, 1868 (public domain)

Founded in 2016 by a partnership of private landowners and nature conservation charities, the White Stork Project operates in three localities in Surrey and West Sussex, southern England, and using a series of injured storks from Poland that cannot fly far it hopes to re-establish the species as a breeding bird here.

In 2019, one of its females plus an unringed, possibly wild stork visiting from the continent paired up, built a nest in a tree within the Knepp Castle Estate, West Sussex, and laid some eggs, but tragically they failed to hatch.

 

A pair of adult white storks on their nest (© Andrea0250/Wikipedia – CC BY-SA 4.0 licence)

As all storks do, this pair then spent the winter in warmer, African climes, but they returned to the same estate this spring, built a nest in a tree near to the one that they used last year, the female laid some eggs again – and this time, in early May, they hatched!

The White Stork Project is naturally delighted, and hopes that this much-anticipated event will herald the beginning of the breeding pair's stately species staking its much-deserved place in Britain's natural history once more. The Project's aim is to restore a population of at least 50 breeding pairs of white storks in southern England by 2030.

 

A gorgeous painting of white storks from Richard Crossley's The Crossley ID Guide Britain and Ireland (© Richard Crossley/Wikipedia – CC BY-SA 3.0 licence)

 

Today, 31 December 2020, marks the 126^th anniversary of the birth of my maternal grandmother, Gertrude Timmins, who passed away at the age of 99 in April 1994. I can still vividly remember Nan telling me when I was a youngster that once, while on a guided tour somewhere in Great Britain during the early 1900s, she saw an unusual bird that the guide identified as a crane. From her description of it, the bird seemed too small for such a species, but she stressed that the guide had insisted that it was indeed a crane. So who knows, maybe it was – a juvenile straggler, perhaps, a lonely stranger on the shore, like so many of us are.

 

Nan with my Jack Russell terrier Patch during the mid/late 1970s (© Dr Karl Shuker)

Happy birthday, Nan – how I wish that you, Mom, and all of my family were here with me to celebrate your big day today, and to greet the New Year all together tomorrow.

 

Wishing all of my ShukerNature readers a very happy, healthy 2021, and hoping that it will inspire me to prepare and post many exciting new blog articles here on ShukerNature!

 

Common cranes portrayed in another breathtakingly beautiful painting from Richard Crossley's The Crossley ID Guide Britain and Ireland (© Richard Crossley/Wikipedia – CC BY-SA 3.0 licence)

 

 

THE GRIFFINS AND THE FROG RAIN

My grandmother Gertrude Timmins (with my dog Patch), who experienced a frog rain when she was a girl during the early 1900s (Dr Karl Shuker)

One of the oddest enigmas of nature is the widely-reported phenomenon of frog rain - i.e. unaccountable falls of frogs down to earth from the sky, sometimes in appreciable numbers and usually (but not always) during a shower of rain. Sceptics attempt to explain this weird occurrence away by suggesting that the frogs in question were merely lurking unseen in ground-level vegetation, and were flushed out of cover by the rain, thereby creating the illusion that they had actually fallen down from the sky with the rain. However, there are various cases on file in which it is clear that the frogs really did fall from above. These cases include the following one - which happened to a member of my own family.

A frog rain as depicted on the front cover of Fate Magazine for May 1958 (© Fate Magazine)

In or around 1902, when she was about 8 years old, my maternal grandmother, Gertrude Timmins (née Griffin), was walking with her mother, Mary Griffin, across a field in what is now the town of West Bromwich, in the West Midlands, England. As they were walking, it began to rain, so they opened their umbrellas, but a few moments later Gertrude felt a great number of quite heavy thumps on top of hers. When she peered out from beneath it, she saw to her amazement that the objects responsible for the thumps were small frogs - dropping down from above, hitting the top of her umbrella, bouncing off it, and falling to the ground around her feet. She became quite frightened, but her mother assured her that there was nothing to fear, informing her in a wholly matter-of-fact manner that it was merely a frog rain, and that the frogs would stop falling soon - which they did. This dramatic incident left such a vivid impression in my grandmother’s mind that right up to her death in 1994, at the age of 99, she could still readily recall all of it.

This is the species, the European common frog Rana temporaria, to which the specimens encountered by my grandmother would have belonged (Richard Bartz/Wikipedia)

Why this case is so significant is that the frogs had actually been cascading down on to the tops of the umbrellas, confirming that they had not merely emerged out of undergrowth on the ground when the rain began. Moreover, there were no buildings or trees nearby from which they could have dropped – always assuming that they could, or would, have found their way onto such structures anyway. In short, the only place where the frogs could have come from was the sky.

Frog rain, in Conrad Lycosthenes's Prodigiorum ac Ostentorum, 1557

The most popular theory for zoological falls is that the creatures in question have been lifted from their normal terrestrial or aquatic abodes by a whirlwind or waterspout, carried some distance through the air, and then dropped back down to earth. Initially, this seems quite a reasonable solution - until it is realised that these falls are almost always species-specific, i.e. a given animal fall normally contains only a single species. Moreover, it does not usually contain any mud, vegetation, or any other substratum either - just the single animal species.

A photoshopped frog rain (Worth1000.com)

Yet how could a waterspout or whirlwind be so extraordinarily selective, just lifting members of one species (e.g. of frog, or fish, or snail), and leaving all other animal species in the same locality uncollected, and not even lifting up any substratum? It is this baffling specificity, this unexpected paucity of mixed showers, that poses such a problem when attempting to accept the vortex explanation for animal falls.

This ShukerNature post is excerpted from 'It's Raining Sprats and Frogs' – a chapter from my book Dr Shuker's Casebook: In Pursuit of Marvels and Mysteries (CFZ Press: Bideford, 2008).