GOING APE ABOUT THE KOOLOOKAMBA

Late 19th-Century engraving of Mafuka, the most famous koolookamba specimen

Not a single verified example of a hybrid between a chimpanzee and gorilla has ever been recorded by science - which is why the koolookamba is such a controversial creature of cryptozoology.

This mystery ape was first brought to European attention by the explorer Paul du Chaillu, who shot what he initially assumed to be a large adult male chimpanzee in Gabon's Ashankolo Mountains during April 1858. However, its head was rounded, as was its bare black face, its eyes were large and set wide apart, it had well-developed eyebrow ridges, a flat nose, and elevated, projecting cheekbones - which are all characteristics more typical of a gorilla (two species of which are recognised today - the western gorilla Gorilla gorilla and the eastern gorilla G. beringei, of which latter species the mountain gorilla is a subspecies, G. b. beringei).

19th-Century engraving of a koolookamba

Consequently, du Chaillu stated that he considered his specimen to be totally separate from both chimp and gorilla. So too did the local native people - who claimed that this strange type of 'intermediate' ape lived exclusively in the mountains, never inhabiting lowland regions. They even had a special name for it - the koolookamba ('that which speaks 'kooloo''), after its distinctive call, 'kooloo' (and also spelt variously as koolokamba and koolakamba). Accordingly, in 1860 du Chaillu formally christened his newly-created species Troglodytes koolokamba - the first of several different scientific names, and identities, that would be applied to this ambiguous ape.

Left side of Mafuka's head – engraving from 1896

Over the years, a number of other koolookambas have been obtained from Gabon and elsewhere in equatorial West Africa. Some have even been displayed alive in zoos. Perhaps the most famous captive koolookamba was 'Mafuka' (also spelt 'Mafuca' in some sources) - a large aggressive female brought from Gabon's Loango Coast and exhibited at Dresden Zoo in the 1870s. Another fierce individual from the late 1800s was 'Johanna' - displayed at the Barnum Bailey World Show after four years at Lisbon Zoo. In the 1980s, the Holloman Air Force Base's chimpanzee colony at Alamagordo, New Mexico, contained two adult female koolookambas - 'Minnie' and 'Sevim'.

Mafuka's face – engraving from 1896

In short, it is clear that koolookambas exist. Far less clear, conversely, is their identity - just what is a koolookamba? The complexity of this question is exemplified by the intense deliberation that took place in 19th-Century zoological circles regarding Mafuka's identity.

The most conservative school of thought claimed that she was just an unusual chimpanzee. In contrast, some zoologists were persuaded by her heavy brows, fairly small ears, wide nose, and powerful, projecting jaws to classify her as a small gorilla (the confirmed identity of a female koolookamba sent to Basle Zoo in 1967). Certain others, echoing du Chaillu, felt sure that she represented a separate third species - one that subtly combined characteristics of chimpanzee with those of gorilla but remained taxonomically distinct from both.

Engraving of the right side of Mafuka's head

Most dramatic (yet most popular) of all, however, was the opinion voiced by zoologist Dr Richard Lydekker among others. Namely, that her interspecific combination of features showed that Mafuka was actually a crossbreed - resulting from a mating in the wild between a chimpanzee and a gorilla. Indeed, in 1881, German game hunter Hugo von Koppenfels alleged that he had positive proof that such hybridisation did occur (and these two ape forms are certainly closely related), but no such proof has ever been accepted by zoologists.

The fundamental problem responsible for the dilemma of the koolookamba's true identity is the extraordinary diversity in outward and cranial morphology exhibited by the chimpanzee across its wide geographical distribution. This explains why, by 1919, at least 20 different species of chimpanzee had been distinguished and accepted as valid by some zoologists. These included such distinctively-named forms as the soko (native to the jungles west of Lake Tanganyika) and the nschiego mbouvé (native to Gabon, like the koolookamba).

19th-Century engraving of a Gabonese nschiego mbouvé, based upon a stuffed specimen

Since the extensive taxonomic researches published by German primatologist Dr Ernst Schwarz during the 1930s, however, only two species have been recognised by most authorities.

One of these is the pygmy chimpanzee or bonobo Pan paniscus - yet another identity lately proposed for Mafuka by some researchers (click here for a separate ShukerNature article devoted specifically to the fascinating history of the bonobo).

Pygmy chimpanzee or bonobo (Dr Karl Shuker)

The other is the common chimpanzee Pan troglodytes, which is usually split into four subspecies - P. t. verus (West Africa), P. t. schweinfurthi (Central Africa), P. t. ellioti [=vellerosus] (Nigeria and Cameroon), and P. t. troglodytes (Central West Africa). One of several former full species included by Schwarz within the last-mentioned subspecies was the koolookamba - but this was one puzzling primate from the past that would not be laid to rest quite so easily.

In 1967, primatologist Professor W.C. Osman Hill reclassified the koolookamba as an additional chimpanzee subspecies in its own right, dubbing it P. t. koolokamba. Nevertheless, many researchers do not support the koolookamba's revived claim to independent status.

Painting of Pan troglodytes koolokamba ( (c) Josef Smit)

As pointed out by gorilla expert Don Cousins and American anthropologist Dr Brian Shea, individuals displaying the koolookamba's distinctive morphology arise spasmodically in totally separate populations of chimpanzees - thus indicating that the koolookamba is merely the product of a chance assemblage of genes, rather than a segregated form that breeds true.

Having said that, there does seem to be a link between koolookamba occurrence and montane habitat. And as its distinguishing features happen to be much the same as those that delineate eastern Africa's mountain gorilla G. beringei beringei from eastern Africa's lowland gorilla G. b. graueri, could the koolookamba therefore constitute an incipient mountain-favouring race of chimpanzee?

Sepia-tinted engravings of Mafuka

In the absence of further research (preferably incorporating comparative DNA analyses featuring 'typical' chimps, koolookambas, and gorillas), however, it seems likely that the koolookamba will be monkeying around with zoological opinion for a long time to come!

Nor is this anomalous anthropoid the only controversial chimpanzee on record. Others include the Bili ape, the mystery chimpanzee of Yaounde Zoo, the ufiti of Malawi, 'ape-man' Oliver, thumbless chimps, chocolate-coloured chimps, and, most extraordinary of all, the spiny-backed chimpanzee – but these must wait for future ShukerNature posts!

An engraving of Mafuka the koolookamba appearing on this Liberian postage stamp issued in 1906

GOODBYE, IVAN - MY TRIBUTE TO IVAN MACKERLE, 1942-2013

It was with great sorrow that I learnt earlier this week that Ivan Mackerle, the Czech Republic's pre-eminent cryptozoological and Fortean researcher-explorer as well as a longstanding friend and correspondent of mine, died on 3 January after a long illness. He was 71.

Ivan alongside an information board concerning Austria's Tappenkarsee lindworm

During more than four decades of investigations worldwide, Ivan sought a wide range of cryptids, including the Alpine tatzelworm and Tappenkarsee lindworm, the New Guinea ropen, the Loch Ness monster, the thylacine on mainland Australia, the Brazilian troa, the Sri Lankan nittaewo, and even Madagascar's giant elephant bird and man-eating tree. And although, sadly, he never succeeded in encountering any of his ultra-elusive quarries, he gathered considerable quantities of very valuable anecdotal and hitherto-unpublicised background information for each one.

Ivan seeking Madagascar's infamous man-eating tree

Ivan also examined many non-cryptozoological anomalies, such as the fate of the lost explorer Lieut.-Col. Percy Fawcett, Dracula's castle, the singing fishes of Batticaola, the mysterious 'cauldrons' in Siberia's Valley of Death, the ruins of Nan Madol in Micronesia, and the Czech Republic's very own historical enigma - the golem of Prague. And he meticulously documented all of his researches and findings in his many books, articles, and the films of his expeditions that he always produced.

Tajemství Pražského Golema - Ivan's book on the golem of Prague

However, he will be remembered above all else for his diligent, ground-breaking trio of expeditions to the Gobi Desert in search of the terrifying Mongolian death worm or allghoi khorkhoi. Today, it is unquestionably one of the world's most famous cryptids, yet it was virtually unknown to the West before Ivan first brought it to widespread popular attention via a World Explorer article in 1994.

Dr Jarda Prokopec and Ivan (on right) seeking the death worm in the Gobi Desert

In addition, Ivan actively encouraged my own interest in this remarkable cryptid, very kindly providing me with numerous documents and translations from Mongolian publications never before chronicled in English-language works, and always permitting me to incorporate in my own writings any of his expedition photographs and other illustrations prepared by him that I wished to use. Thank you, Ivan - I am and shall always be sincerely grateful to you for your generosity.

Mongolské Záhady - Ivan's book documenting the death worm and other Mongolian mysteries

The world is a sadder, less exciting place when pioneering, trail-blazing figures like Ivan depart from it. However, his legacy will live on not only in his publications and films but also in those many future generations of anomaly seekers inspired by him - not least of whom is his own son, Danny, now almost 50 years old, who accompanied him on several of his later expeditions.

Příšery Odnikud ('Monsters From Nowhere') - one of Ivan's books devoted to cryptozoological mysteries

Goodbye Ivan, I am so sorry that you are no longer here, but I pray that you now have the answers to all of those fascinating mysteries that you pursued for so long and for which we who remain here still strive. RIP my friend.

NB - All photographs included in this ShukerNature tribute article are © Ivan Mackerle

AN INTERVIEW WITH CFZ AUSTRALIA

Proudly wearing my Great Barrier Reef Australia shirt from 2006 alongside a thylacine painting in my study (Dr Karl Shuker)

I was recently interviewed by Rebecca Lang of CFZ Australia for their website's continuing 'Meet the Cryptozoologist' series - click here to view my interview.

HERE'S HIPPOTURTLEOX - THE HORNED MONSTER OF TIBET'S LAKE DUOBUZHE

Detailed reconstruction of the possible appearance in life of the hippoturtleox (Tim Morris)

Due to the political situation, much of Tibet's terrain and freshwater bodies of water are little-known or entirely off-limits to Westerners. Occasionally, however, a highly intriguing report emerges that suggests there may be some fascinating zoological discoveries waiting to be made here.

One such report briefly hit the headlines worldwide in September 1984, a mere 12 years after the creature itself had been captured. It claimed that back in 1972, a truly bizarre beast had been caught alive in Tibet's Lake Duobuzhe. It was described as having an ox-like body with hippopotamus-like skin, the legs of a turtle and a pair of short curled horns on its head. As a result of its composite morphology, it was duly dubbed a hippoturtleox by American cryptozoologist J. Richard Greenwell when documenting it within the Spring 1986 issue of the International Society of Cryptozoology's newsletter.

Delightful illustration of the hippoturtleox (Thylacine333/deviantart.com)

Tragically, however, following its capture this extraordinary-sounding creature was shot and bayoneted to death by some Chinese soldiers, then dragged to a nearby village, but the subsequent fate of its scientifically-priceless carcase is unknown (though it is quite likely to have been eaten – an ignominious fate shared by several other cryptozoological specimens down through the years). Nothing more has ever been reported about Lake Duobuzhe's hippoturtleox, and nothing like it has ever been reported since. Strangely, I have been unable to locate Lake Duobuzhe online or in any atlas either, although there are literally thousands of lakes occurring on the Tibetan plateau, so this is not necessarily surprising. It is believed that the area used to be under the ocean, which then retreated, explaining the presence of so many lakes in the area today, a number of which are filled with saltwater.

Always assuming that the story was indeed genuine, what could this creature have been? Its body's general shape, the appearance of its skin, and certainly its limbs are all reminiscent of a large freshwater chelonian – but if this is indeed what it was, how can its horns be explained? Could they have been a pair of specialised respiratory snorkels, perhaps? Or might they even have been real horns? After all, a horned chelonian would not be without precedent.

Cast of skeleton of the extinct Lord Howe Island horned tortoise Meiolania platyceps (Unnormalized/Wikipedia)

Until as recently as 2000 years ago, the island of New Caledonia, situated to the east of Australia, was still home to an extraordinary cryptodire tortoise called Meiolania mackayi, whose skull bore a cluster of protuberances, including a pair of large, laterally-pointing horns. Much bigger Meiolania species formerly lived in Australia too (M. brevicollis), as well as on Lord Howe Island (M. platyceps), and Vanuatu (M. damelipi), but these all became extinct before their New Caledonian counterpart.

Ninjemys oweni - a small Meiolania-related Pleistocene horned tortoise from Queensland, depicted on an Australian postage stamp issued in 1997

Without a body, preserved tissues, a photograph, or even an eyewitness drawing to examine, Tibet's hippoturtleox seems destined to remain an unclassifiable anomaly within the chronicles of cryptozoology – unless, one day, a second specimen appears. If it does, we can but hope that it will be treated more humanely than its mystifying species' previous representative.

Head-on view of the extinct Lord Howe Island horned tortoise Meiolania platyceps (David Morgan-Mar/Wikipedia)

This ShukerNature blog post is an excerpt from my forthcoming book Mirabilis: A Carnival of Cryptozoology and Unnatural History (Anomalist Books: New York, 2013).

 

SYLVIORNIS AND THE DYNASTY OF THE DU

A reconstruction of the possible appearance in life of Sylviornis neocaledoniae, aka the du (Tim Morris)

Whereas most birds incubate their eggs simply by sitting on them, thereby directly harnessing their own body heat, those fowl-like species known as the megapodes are renowned for eschewing this tried and trusted method in favour of much more remarkable and ingenious versions. Some megapodes, for example, excavate pits in the ground, within which they then bury their eggs in order for them to be hatched by whatever external sources of heat are present - including the sun's rays, subterranean steam, and even volcanic activity. Others, conversely, erect huge mounds composed of dead plant material, inside which they deposit their eggs and allow the heat generated internally by the rotting vegetation to incubate them.

Today's megapodes are little more than dwarfs in comparison with certain fossil species. If, as currently believed, the ancestors of today’s aboriginals reached Australia no later than 45,000-55,000 years ago, they would have been familiar with the Australian giant megapode Progura [=Leipoa] gallinacea. Although generally similar in overall shape, this very robust species was approximately half as large again as today’s biggest megapodes. These are Australia's closely-related but only 2-ft-long mallee fowl Leipoa ocellata and its slightly larger brush turkey Alectura lathami - this latter vulture-headed species creates mounds up to 9 ft in height. Leg bones of an even larger, hitherto-unknown form of megapode have been discovered in a Polynesian midden on one of Fiji’s tiniest islands, demonstrating that it too was clearly contemporary with early humans. Yet even these sizeable species pale into insignificance in comparison with a truly spectacular relative, recently exposed as a bona fide prehistoric survivor.

Set of ornamental tiles depicting an Australian brush turkey, the largest living megapode species (John Hill/Wikipedia)

To the east of Australia is the island of New Caledonia, a former French territory whose southernmost tip looks out towards a very much smaller isle nearby, the Isle of Pines. In 1976, the Bulletin de la Société d'Études Historiques de Nouvelle Calédonie published an extremely interesting paper by historian Dr Paul Griscelli, who revealed that, according to oral traditions of the Houailou people (one of the isle's native Melanesian tribes), this minuscule speck of land once harboured an enormous and extraordinary bird.

Their ancestors called it the du, and described it as a huge, aggressive bird with red plumage and a star-shaped bony casque on its head. Although unable to fly, it could run very swiftly, usually with its wings outstretched. It laid a single egg, which took four months to hatch (from November's close to April's onset), but it did not incubate the egg itself.

Reconstruction of Sylviornis incorporating traditional native descriptive details of the du in a Geobios paper authored by Prof. François Poplin and Dr Cécile Mourer-Chauviré (see below)

As expected with any item of mythology, there were certain aspects that were unquestionably fictional. In particular, it was asserted that the du practised a most unlikely cuckoo-like deception to avoid brooding its egg - by laying it in a hollow banyan tree used as a lair by some form of giant lizard, in order for the lizard to incubate it instead!

In stark contrast to such tall tales as this, however, the fundamental, mainstream details regarding the du are precise and sober, indicating that these may have stemmed from sightings long ago of some real creature. Even so, bearing in mind that many fabulous birds of monstrous form with no claim whatsoever to a basis in truth do occur in numerous myths and folktales around the world, it is nonetheless very possible that the du would have been dismissed as nothing more than just another example of such a fantasy animal, especially as there appeared to be no way of pursuing the matter further. Fortunately, the du's seemingly imminent descent into obscurity was not to be.

While preparing the final draft of his paper, Griscelli received some staggering news. Excavating fossils at Kanumera, on the Isle of Pines in 1974, Paris lecturer Dr J. Dubois had disinterred some bones that had since been identified by Professor François Poplin of Paris's Natural History Museum as limb portions from a gigantic bird! Relics of the du? In addition, when the bones were dated by radiocarbon techniques, they were found to be no older than 3,500 years, and as humans were known to have reached the Isle of Pines prior to this period they would have been well acquainted with the birds.

Magnificent painting of a Sylviornis family (© Éric Alibert / inclusion here strictly on Fair Use/non-commercial basis only)

The dimensions of this vanished bird's remains have shown that it was as large as the modern-day emu (5-6 ft tall), and flightless. Indeed, after studying the bones, in 1980 Poplin published a scientific description of this dramatic species (Comptes Rendus), named by him Sylviornis neocaledoniae, in which he announced that, like the emu, it too may have been a ratite – i.e. one of those widely-dispersed species of giant flightless bird that also include the ostrich, rheas, and cassowaries, as well as the extinct moas, and elephant birds.

Comparing the dimensions of Sylviornis neocaledoniae to those of an average-sized human and automobile (http://palaeos-blog.blogspot.co.uk / inclusion here strictly on Fair Use/non-commercial basis only)

Three years later, however, following further researches, Poplin changed his mind and announced that Sylviornis was actually an immense megapode (Comptes Rendus). Moreover, as he and co-worker Cécile Mourer-Chauviré discussed in another paper (Geobios, February 1985), there is an intriguing supplementary source of evidence favouring this identity, contained within the Houailou's mythology - for, according to their oral traditions, the du did not incubate its egg. Unfortunately, however, if we exclude from serious consideration their lizard-hatching legend, their folklore offers no clue as to the egg’s resulting fate.

Nevertheless, as Mourer-Chauviré and Poplin pointed out just a few months later (La Recherche, September 1985), researchers seeking the answer to this riddle on the Isle of Pines might not have to look very far for it, because if Poplin's later hypothesis is correct, the riddle's answer is readily visible in many parts of the isle, and also on New Caledonia.

Sepia-tinted sketch reconstructing Sylviornis (Markus Bühler)

Both of these islands bear a great number of very large mound-like structures, measuring up to 150 ft in diameter and as much as 15 ft in height. Constructed from materials present in their immediate surroundings (soil, particles of iron oxide, coral debris, sometimes black silicon as well), their precise nature has never been conclusively ascertained - despite a century of archaeological investigations.

In the meantime, it has simply been assumed that they are ancient tumuli (burial mounds) erected by the islands' early human occupants. However, no human remains have been found within them. Hence Mourer-Chauviré and Poplin postulated that they may really be egg-incubator mounds of Sylviornis, the last visible evidence of this mighty species' former existence. If ultimately verified, this identification would not only solve a long-standing topographical mystery but also demonstrate that Sylviornis existed on New Caledonia itself, not just on the Isle of Pines.

Sylviornis skull fragment and tibia, in the Muséum National d'Histoire Naturelle, Paris (FunkMonk/Wikipedia)

Speaking of New Caledonia, it is possible that a much smaller megapode once hailed from this island too. When Captain James Cook’s second voyage reached New Caledonia in 1774, one of its members recorded seeing a small, bare-legged form of gallinaceous bird that could well have been a megapode. Certainly, fossil bones of a comparably-sized megapode of relatively recent date (geologically speaking) have been unearthed here; their species has been named Megapodius molestructor.

Returning to the du/Sylviornis issue, there is no doubt that a mound-erecting megapode the size of an emu would have been a stunning sight, and it is one that may have persisted for much longer than originally believed. According to Dr Jean-Christophe Balouet in his book Extinct Species of the World (1990), this species is thought by some researchers to have survived into early historical times - until at least the 3rd Century AD (though more conservative estimates date its extinction at around 150 BC).

Even so, it had vanished long before its island domain was reached by Europeans - but why? After all, during his researches into Houailou mythology, Griscelli found that for at least a time the du had been deemed by their ancestors to be little less than an avian deity - a sacred creature of reverence. The punishment for killing a du was death, and an insignia in the shape of its stellate casque was a symbol of great esteem, worn only by the most powerful of tribal chiefs. But, like all things, customs change, especially when eroded by changing priorities.

New Caledonia postage stamp from 1995 depicting Sylviornis neocaledoniae

On as tiny an island as the Isle of Pines, food was scarcely plentiful, particularly for entire human tribes, and, not surprisingly, cannibalism was prevalent in those early days of human occupation. It could only be a matter of time, therefore, before the awe-inspired taboos protecting the du would be weakened and violated by the more practical realisation that these enormous, robust birds were actually an abundant, readily accessible source of top-quality meat. And so it was that this colossal bird's once-exalted status plummeted precipitously, and prosaically - from the du as demi-god, to the du as dinner!

There could only be one outcome. Long before Westerners could ever receive the opportunity of witnessing this magnificent bird, Sylviornis had been exterminated. For many centuries it would survive merely as a curious native legend, its morphology and lifestyle preserved only by verbal transmission through successive generations of its annihilators' descendants - until the day when its bones would finally be disinterred, and the reality of the Isle of Pines' bygone feathered deity at last be confirmed beyond any shadow of doubt.

A First Day Cover (FDC) issued by New Caledonia on 16 May 1995, commemorating Sylviornis

From mythical du to extinct Sylviornis - clearly not a resurrection . . . or is it? Tantalisingly, while visiting New Caledonia in 1991, Danish zoologist Lars Thomas discovered that the native people speak of the du as if it were still alive today, and describe it accurately. Racial memories - or Sylviornis survival?

Finally: In 2005, Mourer-Chauviré and Balouet published a detailed revisionary Sylviornis neocaledoniae paper in which they reclassified this enigmatic mound-building species, deciding that it was sufficiently distinct from all other megapodes to warrant the creation of an entirely new taxonomic family to accommodate it – Sylviornithidae.

A fictional but irresistible mega-sized megapode – the giant purple megapode dreamed up and drawn after the artist had seen the fossil skeleton of a real giant megapode at the San Francisco Academy of Sciences (Abalone Da-SeaSnail/DeviantART.com / inclusion here strictly on Fair Use/non-commercial basis only)

This ShukerNature post is excerpted from my book Extraordinary Animals Revisited (CFZ Press: Bideford, 2007).

UNEARTHING THE EARTH HOUND - A CORPSE-DEVOURING CRYPTID FROM SCOTLAND

Behold, the earth hound! (Shaun Histed-Todd)

"Without a doubt, this must be the book of the year. Even before one opens the cover up the sheer quality of the publication grabs you. It is plush and impressive and the contents match the sleeve. This is Karl's finest work since The Lost Ark and is crammed so damn full of new information you just don't know where to begin. I pride myself in cryptozoological knowledge but there's stuff in here I've never heard of. Earth hound, weird subterranean carnivores that burrow into graves to devour cadavers, the sandewan, a Zimbabwean entity whose calling-card is a constant trail of blood, giant blue eels in the Ganges, and legions more."

Richard Freeman – Review of my book Mysteries of Planet Earth (Carlton: London, 1999) in Animals and Men, No. 20 (December 1999)

Cryptozoologically-speaking, Scotland is world-famous for the Loch Ness monster, and also for its plethora of pantheresque and cougar-like mystery cats that allegedly roam its lonely moors and shadowy glens. However, these are not the only cryptids on record from this northernmost country of the United Kingdom. As highlighted above in Richard Freeman's review of my book Mysteries of Planet Earth, I always strive to uncover and document intriguing but hitherto little-publicised, obscure mystery beasts, and one excellent example - far less familiar but no less fascinating than Nessie and Scotland's alien big cats - is the extraordinary, and distinctly macabre, earth hound of Banffshire (a former northeastern Scottish county now split up into two other counties).

STRANGER THAN FICTION?

They do say that art imitates life, and sometimes it does so even without anyone initially realising it! So it was with the earth hound. Back in 1994, Canadian actor Stephen McHattie starred in an intriguing horror movie entitled ‘The Dark’, in which a mystifying – and quite monstrous – rat-like creature inhabiting graveyards was pursued by a cryptozoological biker. It is well known that two of my own abiding passions are cryptozoology and riding motorbikes, but at the time of this film’s release I had no idea that just a few years later I would be investigating a hitherto-obscure graveyard-inhabiting mystery beast allegedly resembling a grotesque rat, and apparently living in my very own British homeland!

Two stills from 'The Dark'

www.cinema.de/film/the-dark-moerderische-nacht,1296308.html

I first learnt of the earth hound’s existence when I happened to read a short account of it written by British folklorist Paul Screeton and published in his own magazine, Folklore Frontiers. This summarised an earlier article, from the 1992-1993 volume of the journal Scottish Studies, written by Alexander Fenton and cryptozoological chronicler David Heppell, which reviewed what little information appears to have been documented on this cryptid.

What would seem to be the earliest currently-revealed reference to the earth hound – also known variously as the yard pig or yard swine – appeared in the Reverend Walter Gregor’s book Notes on the Folk-Lore of North East Scotland (1881), in which he wrote of:

"...a mysterious dreaded sort of animal, called the “yird swine”…believed to live in graveyards, burrowing among the dead bodies and devouring them."

A CLOSE ENCOUNTER OF THE BITING KIND

During their researches, Fenton and Heppell discovered a detailed letter on the subject of the earth hound within the archives of the Department of Natural History of the Natural Museums of Scotland. Written in 1917 by A. Smith of Wartle in Aberdeenshire to James Ritchie in Edinburgh, it recorded that a local gardener named Archibald recalled how his father was ploughing some fields in Deveron around 50 years earlier (i.e. around 1867) when he uncovered an earth hound in its nest. When he attempted to kill it with his foot, the earth hound bit his boot so hard that its teeth cut into the leather, so his father killed it with the plough’s swingle-tree, and took its carcase back home with him. (A swingle-tree is a wooden or metal horizontal bar used to balance the pull of a draught horse pulling a plough or carriage, known as a singletree in America.)

In his letter, Smith described the earth hound as being somewhat like a rat in basic form and brown in colour, but its head was long like a hound’s, and its tail was bushier than a rat’s. He also claimed that the nests of earth hounds were sometimes exposed by ploughs but the creatures themselves were only very rarely spied, and inhabited churchyards.

Depiction of the fraught encounter by Archibald's father with an earth hound (William Rebsamen)

Worth noting here is that the field being ploughed when this particular earth hound had been uncovered was very close to a churchyard – indeed, this churchyard was later abandoned due to the firmly-held belief that it was infested with these creatures. It was also believed that earth hounds always lived close to water, and constructed their nests in haughs (stretches of river-deposited land forming part of river valleys).

When his father arrived home with the earth hound’s carcase, Archibald saw it himself, as did all of their neighbours, who viewed it with great interest. In his letter, Smith stated that Archibald:

"...describes it as being something between a rat and a weasel, and about the size of a ferret, head very like that of a dog, and I think he said the tail was not very long. At a casual glance it would be mistaken for a rat, but was quite unlike on close examination."

OTHER INFORMATION

Interestingly, further details from Smith were present in a note bearing the same date as his previous letter but posted the following day, and referring to a meeting in Mastrick with someone who may have been Archibald himself, although this is not made clear in the note. Yet whoever this person was, he had evidently seen the earth hound carcase and knew of the incident itself, because Smith had questioned him directly about it. According to this person’s testimony, the earth hound had run some distance along the plough before it had been killed, and additional morphological information contained in this note revealed that it had been:

"...about the size of a rat. Asked about colour, he thought it was like a dark rat. It had feet like a mole, and a tail about half as long as a rat’s. Head was long and nostrils very prominent, suggesting a pig’s. Head somewhat like that of a guinea-pig. It had noticeable white “tusks”, whatever that might mean – (probably incisors)…Mastrick is about 10 minutes’ walk from here, and curiously enough is close to the churchyard."

Reconstruction of the supposed morphology of the earth hound, based upon eyewitness descriptions (William Rebsamen)

A paragraph about earth hounds that appeared in the People’s Journal in June 1950 referred to them as ‘yird pigs’ or ‘earth huns’, claiming that they were “really rats...only found in graveyards”. More recently, in April 1990, when Alexander Fenton visited a Banffshire town called Reith, he discovered that the earth hound was still spoken of there. A Reith friend stated that they are between a rat and a rabbit, and live in graveyards, digging down and breaking into the coffins. He even took Fenton to a churchyard where such creatures are still said to dwell – Walla kirkyard at the edge of the River Deveron (thus in the vicinity of the earth hound incident featuring Archibald’s father over a century before) - but, sadly, no sign of any was found there.

IN SEARCH OF AN IDENTITY

So what exactly is the earth hound – a still-undiscovered mini-beast awaiting detection if it hasn’t died out by now, or just a macabre Scottish legend, or even nothing more than a monstrous misidentification of some already known species? In the film ‘The Dark’, the movie equivalent of this mystery beast turned out to be an archaic species of rat previously thought by scientists to be long extinct. In contrast, I think it highly unlikely that Scotland’s earth hound will ever be shown to be a prehistoric survivor, but its tantalisingly scant documentation yet lingering recollection among the local Banff people is sufficiently noteworthy to warrant some consideration as to what it may – or may not – be.

Consequently, I included a concise account of the earth hound in my book Mysteries of Planet Earth (1999), the first cryptozoologically-related book ever to document this mystery beast, and which also contained a specially-commissioned full-colour reconstruction of its likely appearance by acclaimed wildlife artist William Rebsamen from Fort Worth, Arkansas. This superb illustration is now included here too, along with a second picture by William, depicting the boot-biting earth hound encounter described above.

As a result, I have since received some suggestions and ideas regarding what this mystifying mammal could be. Two of the most intriguing ones, for different reasons, are as follows.

BADGERING FORTH AN EXPLANATION?

One of these is the suggestion that because ‘earth hound’ and ‘earth pig’ have been used as local names in Britain for the European badger Meles meles, and because badgers have been known to dig through graves, the Scottish earth hound may be one and the same creature as the badger. If only it were that simple! The fundamental, irreconcilable problem with this proposed identity is that the description of the earth hound as documented in all of the sources presented here is radically different in shape, size, and colour from that of the European badger, which in any case is one of the most distinctive, readily-identifiable, and familiar mammals throughout the British Isles. Consequently, it is inconceivable that any country-living person would not recognise a badger (even a very young, small badger) if they should encounter one. Also, badgers do not make nests in ploughable haughs or fields. Instead, they construct extensive setts in woodlands.

European badger – radically different in appearance from the earth hound (Peter Trimming/Wikipedia)

In short, whatever the earth hound is, or was, it certainly has no affinity with a badger, other than the sharing with it of a country name - something that occurs with many other animal species, often featuring zoologically unrelated species linked only by some common behavioural or very superficial morphological trait. In the case of the Scottish earth hound and the badger, the only similarities of any kind are their powerful digging feet (something that all burrowing animals necessarily possess anyway) and their underground (but very different) abodes – a simple nest in the case of the former animal, a complex and sizeable sett in the latter.

BEWARE THE WOLVERINE, MY SON!

The other intriguing identity is that the earth hound stories refer to young specimens of the wolverine Gulo gulo (adult wolverines are the largest members of the weasel or mustelid family). Unfortunately, however, as with the badger suggestion, the morphology and lifestyle of the earth hound do not correspond at all with that of wolverines, of any age, which are not fossorial at all. In addition, whereas the badger is at least native to Britain, the wolverine is not, though it does occur in parts of northern mainland Europe.

Young wolverine – not corresponding physically or behaviourally with the earth hound (Zefram/Wikipedia)

Having said that, and as also documented in Mysteries of Planet Earth, a few specimens have allegedly been sighted in recent years in various parts of Great Britain. If genuine, these may be escapees from fur farms (wolverines have not been maintained in British zoos for several years). Even so, the wolverine is simply too dissimilar in every way from descriptions of the earth hound for this to be a viable identity.

RAT, MOLE, OR FERRET?

So what is left? Just a Scottish myth, or something more? Reading through the earth hound accounts, three very different zoological identities come to my mind. One is that the rat-like earth hound is indeed a rodent of some kind. However, although it is comparable to rats in size, colour, and superficial form, and makes nests like the black rat (but not like the much more common brown rat, which isn’t a nest-builder), it still doesn’t closely match either of these two known species of British rat (or any other known British rodent) on account of its furry tail, digging feet, hound-like head, and large tusks.

Conversely, moles definitely possess large digging feet, but not a hound-like head or tusks. They do build nests, but only inside their deep burrows, not in fields, and they certainly do not burrow into graves and devour human corpses present there.

Equally, if we assume that the earth hound may be a small mustelid related to the weasel and to North America’s black-footed ferret Mustela nigripes (which until its near-extinction in the wild lived in abandoned prairie dog burrows), it is difficult to reconcile the possibility that until at least a century ago a very distinct species of mammal (rodent or mustelid) undocumented by science had been alive and well and living in Scotland.

Black-footed ferret (Mariomassone/Wikipedia)

After all, if this were indeed the case, surely there would have been a few preserved specimens or skins, or at least some illustrations of this creature, possibly even a blurry photo or two – especially as Great Britain is one of the most extensively-studied places in the world in relation to wildlife. Yet there does not seem to be any physical evidence of its existence on record anywhere. If only Archibald had preserved the carcase of the specimen killed by his father. That, to me, is the single biggest reason for casting a very sceptical eye over the earth hound file – at least for now. If, of course, someone should uncover additional information, and, ideally, some tangible evidence for this fascinating mystery beast’s reality, I would be only too delighted to reconsider!

PAW-NOTE

After first learning of its existence from my book Mysteries of Planet Earth, Richard Freeman became so interested in the earth hound that he subsequently wrote a suitably gruesome, chilling horror story concerning this necrophagous nightmare, which he has included in his recently-published collection of short stories. Accompanying his earth hound story was a spectacular, specially-commissioned artwork by Shaun Histed-Todd, who has kindly permitted me to include it in my writings too. So here it is, in two different colour versions, opening and closing this present ShukerNature blog post – thanks, Shaun!

The earth hound wakes! (Shaun Histed-Todd)