The Beasts that Hide from Man (3 page)

Another unusual creature, and name, apparently relating to the
dobhar-chu
is the so-called “Irish crocodile.” A terrifyingly close encounter with one of these mystery beasts allegedly occurred at the six-mile-long Lough Mask (Measg), in County Mayo, western Ireland, in or around 1674, and was documented by Roderick O’Flaherty in his book
A Chorographical Description of Wesi or H-Iar Connaughi
(1684) as follows:

As can be seen from this description, Lough Mask’s “Irish crocodile” certainly compares very closely with the Glenade
dobharchu
—especially if one assumes that the former beast was not actually hairless, but instead possessed short hair, which, when wet, adhered so closely to its body that it seemed to its human victim to be shiny and hairless (as is also true with normal otters). Peter Costello documented this report in his own book,
In Search of Lake Monsters
(1974), and he too believes that the
dobhar-chu
and Irish crocodile are one and the same creature.

Today, the world beyond Glenade seems to have forgotten all about the
dobhar-chú
and its sinister deeds, but I wonder whether it may be premature for cryptozoology to assume that this mysterious animal is entirely confined to the shadows of the distant past—for it may conceivably have made some unexpected appearances as recently as 1968.

County Sligo (origin of a story featuring a horned specimen of
dobhar-chu)
is sandwiched between County Leitrim to the right, and County Mayo to the left. Several islands are present off the western coast of Mayo, including Achill, whose principal cryptozoological claim to fame is Sraheens Lough, a small lake said to be frequented by strange water monsters. Most of Ireland’s examples are of the “horseeel” variety—sinuous entities with horse-like heads, which may conceivably be undiscovered modern-day representatives of those supposedly long-extinct serpentine whales known as zeuglodonts.

The Sraheens Lough monster, however, is very different. On the evening of May 1, 1968, two local men, John Cooney and Michael McNulty, were driving past this lake on their way home when suddenly an extraordinary creature, shiny dark-brown in color and clearly illuminated by their vehicle’s headlamps, raced across the road just in front of them and vanished into some dense foliage nearby. They estimated its height at around two and a half feet and its total length at eight to ten feet, which included a lengthy neck, and a long sturdy tail. It also had a head that they variously likened to a sheep’s or a greyhound’s, and four well-developed legs, upon which it rocked from side to side as it ran. Just a week later, a similar beast crawled out of the lake as 15-year-old Gay Dever was cycling by. It seemed to him to be much bigger than a horse, and black in color, with a sheep-like head, long neck, tail, and four legs (of which the hind pair were the larger). Other sightings were also reported during this period, but the identity of the animals) was never ascertained.

In the 13-volume encyclopedia
The Unexplained
, edited by Peter Brookesmith, and first published in part-work form during the early 1980s, an artist’s reconstruction of the Sraheens Lough monster appeared in an article on Irish lake monsters written by Janet and Colin Bord (reproduced in a later compilation,
Creatures From Elsewhere
, in 1984). The illustration was based upon the eyewitness accounts given above for this monster, but it also happens to be exceedingly similar to the Conwall gravestone’s depiction of the
dobhar-chu
. Both share a sleek body and powerful hindquarters, long slender tail, lengthy but not overly elongated neck, distinct paws, and relatively small head. Indeed, one could easily be forgiven for assuming that the two illustrations had been based upon the same animal specimen (let alone species). Could such an arresting degree of morphological similarity be nothing more than a coincidence, or is the
dobhar-chu
still in existence amid the countless lakes of the Emerald Isle?

Cryptozoological skeptics have pointed out that with a circumference of only 1,200 feet, surely Sraheens Lough is too small to support water monsters. However, anything capable of running across roads on four sturdy limbs is equally capable of moving from one lake to another, not residing permanently in any one body of water—which could explain why sightings of monsters in Sraheens Lough are sporadic rather than regular.

Judging from the data presented in this coverage, if the
dobharchu
is a real animal it is clearly much more distinctive than just an extra-large version of the normal otter — and the sea otter
Enhydra lutris
is an exclusively marine species that never reaches British coasts — but until a specimen is obtained (if ever), it will continue to linger with leprechaun-like evanescence amid the twilight limbo between Celtic folklore and contemporary fact.

WHILE REMAINING FORTUNATE ENOUGH NEVER TO have encountered an unidentified beast as deadly as the make-believe monster cited above, during my many years of cryptozoological research and documentation I have publicized a number of mystery creatures that were hitherto largely or wholly unknown even to the cryptozoological community

To my mind, however, by far the most extraordinary member of this eclectic collection of cryptozoological newcomers is indeed a monstrous worm—a certain venomous vermiform with a truly electrifying presence…in every sense of the word!

Those nomadic tribesmen who share its sandy domain in the southern expanse of Mongolia’s vast Gobi Desert refer to it as the
allghoi khorkhoi
(also variously transliterated into English as
allergorhai horhai
and
olgoj chorchoj)
. Conversely, those few Westerners who have heard tell of it have very appropriately dubbed it the Mongolian death worm.

According to the nomads’ testimony, this astonishing animal can not only squirt a lethal corrosive venom, but also kill people merely by touching them (directly or indirectly), in a mysterious yet instantaneously fatal manner highly suggestive of electrocution!

This present chapter is an abridged version of my article “Meet Mongolia’s Death Worm—The Shock of the New,” published in
Fortean Studies
in 1998, which is the most detailed account ever published in relation to one of cryptozoology’s latest, and greatest, enigmas.

I first learned of the Mongolian death worm in 1995, when, while perusing a
World Explorer
issue from 1994,1 came upon an article titled “In Search of the Killer Worm of Mongolia,” authored by Ivan Mackerle. It described the first of two Gobi expeditions led by him during the 1990s in quest of the
allghoi khorkhoi
—a creature that seemed so utterly fantastic that at first I wondered whether the entire article was a hoax, especially as there were no accompanying biographical details regarding its author, or even any expedition photos.

In June 1996, however, a more detailed account by Ivan Mackerle was published in
Fate
, along with background information concerning him, as well as photographs depicting his search. The biographical data revealed that he was an author from Prague who has investigated a number of mysteries and regularly appeared on Czech television and radio. And when I pursued further lines of enquiry, I discovered that he was also a qualified design engineer and a well-respected explorer. In short, Ivan Mackerle was evidently a responsible researcher whose publications could be taken seriously.

Accordingly, I began communicating with Ivan by telephone and letter concerning the death worm and other cryptids. During our continuing correspondence, Ivan has very kindly made available to me for use in my own writings a veritable archive of material, most of which had never previously been cited in any English-language publication, and which comprises a considerable proportion of the data presented here. He also generously provided all the English translations of the various excerpts from Czech, Russian, and Mongolian sources quoted here or in my original
Fortean Studies
article.

Somewhat unappetizingly, the death worm earns its native name from its alleged resemblance to an animate cow’s intestine—
“allghoi khorkhoi”
translates as “intestine worm.” A succinct account of this grotesque creature is provided in a detailed information sheet compiled by Ivan in July 1997, which assimilates data gathered during his expeditions and extensive bibliographical research. In the English translation of his information sheet, the death worm’s “biography” reads as follows: