The Beasts that Hide from Man (24 page)

This explanation of the
poskok’s
jumping ability is the traditional solution offered by skeptics of reports concerning jumping snakes, but as witnessed by Burton with grass snakes, it cannot explain all such cases. Moreover, it seems strange that Kerchelich’s detailed
poskok
description did not mention the striking dorsal zigzag markings or nose-horn sported by
V. ammodytes
. And how do we explain the testimony of a relief worker in Metkovic (southern Croatia, on the Bosnian border), speaking to Marko in October 1996, who stated that he always warned the British SFOR (NATO Peacekeeper) soldiers to take care where they trod as a snake exists here that can jump six feet into the air? Folklore, fancy…or fact?

Thoughts of mystery animals normally conjure up images of remote tropical localities far from civilization, rarely visited by Westerners. In reality, however, one of the most tenaciously elusive mystery beasts has been reported for centuries from the very heart of Europe — the Alps mountain range, extending through Switzerland, Austria, Italy, and Bavaria. It remains unknown to science, but is well known locally as the
tatzelworm
(“clawed worm”),
stollenworm
(“hole-dwelling worm”), or
springworm
(“jumping worm”).

Many eyewitness accounts of
tatzelworms
have been documented, some containing conflicting morphological details. Generally, however, this enigmatic beast can be described as follows:

Measuring two to four feet long, with light-colored skin usually appearing smooth or surfaced with tiny scales, the
tatzelworm
is very elongate in shape, with a short head often said to be cat-like in form, little or no neck, a long worm-like body, and a blunt tail. Some observers claim that it has a pair of short, clawed limbs at the front of its body; others state that it also has a second, hind pair of limbs; and a few allege that it has no limbs at all. It reputedly lives mainly in holes or burrows, but is sometimes encountered basking in alpine meadows on sunny days. If approached, it will usually vanish swiftly into its hole, but there are reports of decidedly belligerent
tatzelworms
that have leaped toward their startled eyewitnesses, usually causing them to flee rather than continue their observations!

Although the existence of such a sizeable creature still undiscovered by science in the Alps may seem unlikely to outsiders, the
ïaïzelworm’s
reality to these mountains’ inhabitants is such that in the 1800s it was even featured in three major alpine guides. According to one of them, Swiss naturalist Friedrich von Tschudi’s
Das Thierleben der Alpenwelt
(1861):

A
tatzelworm
drawing matching the above description had appeared 20 years earlier in a Swiss almanac,
Alpenrosen
. However, perhaps the most famous
tatzelworm
illustration is the sketch of a “scaly log” with a toothy grin, plus front and rear limbs, featuring in a Bavarian handbook,
Neues Taschenbuch für Natur-, Forst- und Jagdfreunde auf das Jahr 1836
, and based upon the description given by someone claiming to have shot one of these creatures.

Over the years, some fascinating
tatzelworm
sightings have been recorded. One of the most dramatic, however, must surely have been the decidedly too-close encounter of the scary kind experienced one day in summer 1921 by a poacher and a herdsman while hunting on Austria’s Hochfilzenalm Mountain, near Rauris. Suddenly, they became aware of a very strange animal, lying on a rock close by, watching them. Measuring two to three feet long, it was grey in color, as thick as a human arm, with a feline, fist-sized head, and a thick tail. Alarmed, the poacher raised his rifle and shot at this bizarre beast—but as he did so, the creature, living up to its alternative name of
“springworm,”
abruptly jumped up through the air toward them, revealing two small front limbs but no rear limbs. Not surprisingly, the men raced away.

A pallid smooth-skinned specimen measuring approximately 18 inches long with two stub-like front limbs and noticeably large eyes was encountered in April 1929 by a teacher seeking the entrance to a cave on Austria’s Mount Landsberg. The creature, which may have been a juvenile specimen because of its small size, was lying in wet, moldy leaves, but swiftly vanished into a hole close by when the teacher tried to capture it.

Intriguingly, together with a number of snakes, an apparent
tatzelworm
was discovered in 1933 concealed inside a hollow space behind a stone wall being removed by some workmen at Spittal an der Drau in Austria. According to their description, it was three feet long, dirty white in color with a yellowish tinge, and cylindrical in shape, with a cat-like head, big eyes, and two short front legs. The workmen gingerly maneuvered this peculiar animal onto a shovel and, along with its serpentine companions, tossed it into the nearby Lieser river—across which it rapidly swam, until it disappeared from sight on the far-side bank.

Another noteworthy sighting took place near St. Pankraz, Austria, in 1922, when a 12-year-old girl playing in a wooded area ran to see why her sister, playing close by, had suddenly begun to cry. When she reached her, the girl was terrified to spy, no more than four yards away, a grey-colored creature with transverse grooves across its body, crawling between some stones. Measuring at least one foot long, it resembled a giant worm, but sported a pair of paws behind its head. Too shocked to move, the two sisters gazed at it in fascinated horror for a time before summoning up enough courage to run away.

One of the earliest but most memorable accounts seemingly appertaining to a
tatzelworm
is that of Jean Tinner, who was walking with his father on Switzerland’s Frumsemberg Mountain one day in or around 1711 when they encountered an extraordinary snake-like creature coiled up on the ground. Measuring seven feet long, it was apparently limbless, but was readily distinguished from normal snakes by its remarkably cat-like head. Taking no chances with such an uncanny creature, Tinner shot it, but its body was not preserved.

Ironically, several
tatzelworm
specimens have apparently been obtained, yet all have been discarded. One incomplete four-footlong skeleton was allegedly found in Austria’s Mur Valley during 1924, but was dismissed as a partial roe deer skeleton by a veterinary student. However, this identification was disputed by its finder, and two years later, in the exact area where the skeleton had been found, a young shepherd encountered a large reptilian mystery beast which so frightened him that he refused to go back there that year. A smaller, three-foot-long specimen has also been spied alive in this vicinity.

One winter sometime prior to 1910, a farmer in Italy’s South Tyrol mountain range unexpectedly discovered a torpid
tatzelworm
like beast asleep (hibernating?) in some hay on his farm. Inevitably, he promptly dispatched it, but did not retain its body, noting only that after he had killed it a green liquid seeped out of its mouth.

And in 1828, a peasant from Switzerland’s Solothurn canton came upon a dead
tatzelworm
in a dried-up marsh, and put it aside, in order to present it for scientific examination. Tragically, however, before he could do so, half of it was devoured by some crows, and when its skeleton was eventually sent to Heidelberg it was duly lost!

A number of candidates have been offered. Many cryptozoologists favor some form of elongate lizard, such as a skink, some species of which are worm-like with very reduced limbs. Moreover, certain skinks only have a single pair. Another popular identity is an unknown species of legless lizard allied to the slow worm
Anguis

fragilis
and Europe’s larger, inappropriately dubbed glass snake
Ophisaurus apodus
. There have even been attempts to link it to the exclusively New World Gila monster
Heloderma suspectum
and its close relative the Mexican beaded lizard
H. horridum
—the world’s only known venomous lizards.

There are also three species of extraordinary reptiles called ajolotes (see also Chapter 2), which resemble large earthworms, except for their small pair of front paws—a description corresponding very closely indeed with the
tatzelworm
. Unfortunately, ajolotes are known only from Mexico.

Alternatively, some researchers prefer an amphibian identity, comparing the
tatzelworm
with certain salamanders, such as the American sirens, which only possess front limbs—or the amphiumas, also lacking hind limbs and only possessing minute front limbs.

My own feeling is that a reptilian identity is more probable, as some
tatzelworms
have been recorded far from water, whereas amphibians typically prefer damp surroundings.

However, it is possible that speculation concerning the
tatzelworm’s
identity is already academic, as sightings seem to have become far less frequent in recent years, indicating that this mysterious entity, even if it does exist, may now be an endangered species.

In June 1997, Czech cryptozoologist Ivan Mackerle led a week-long expedition to the Austrian Alps in search of the
tatzelworm
, visiting Hochfilzenalm and the Mur Valley, but was saddened to learn that only the more elderly interviewees could recall it and describe it, again suggesting either that its tradition, or the creature itself, is dying out.

How tragic it would be if a mystery beast widely reported for centuries in Europe should have become extinct before Western science had even recognized its existence.

Scotland has Nessie, Canada has Ogopogo, and Mongolia has its death worm. But the mystery beast that keeps Japanese cryptozoologists on the lookout is the
tzuchinoko
. Known here for centuries, this bizarre snake is fairly short but very thick-bodied, and reputedly resembles an animated bar of Toblerone chocolate—inasmuch as its prominent dorsal ridge and flattened undersurface give it a triangular cross-sectional shape when viewed head-on.

It also boasts a pair of squat horn-like projections above its small eyes, well-defined facial pits, and a clearly delineated neck. Cryptozoological researchers Michel Dethier and Ayako Dethier-Sakamoto have speculated that if such a snake does exists, it may be a mutant form of the pit viper
Agkistrodon halys
, or possibly even a totally new, undescribed species.

During recent years, certain Japanese towns have purposefully flaunted the
tzuchinoko’s
curio appeal as a tourist lure—by offering substantial monetary rewards to anyone who can capture a specimen. In 1992, the mountain ski village of Chigusa offered 200 million yen (then equal to £490,000) for a living
tzuchinoko
, and 100 million yen for a dead one. But nothing has been forthcoming—until August 2000, that is, when the Japanese media reported that a
tzuchinoko
body had been procured in Yoshii, a town in central Okay ama Prefecture. As so often happens in cryptozoology, however, the truth proved to be rather different.

It all began on May 21, 2000, when, according to a
Mainichi Shimbun
[Daily News] account, a farmer cutting grass claimed to have seen “a snake-like creature with a face resembling cartoon cat Doraemon[!]” slither across a field. The farmer slashed at it with his weed whipper, but the creature escaped into a nearby stream. It had evidently been fatally wounded, however, because on May 25, its dead body was found lying beside the stream by 72-year-old Hideko Takahashi, who buried it. Describing its appearance to the newspaper, she recalled that “it had a cute, round face and was clearly not a snake. I’ve seen something like this around here before, and it makes a chirping sound.”