The way the arms and legs looked, it looked like it was perfectly adapted to walk on all fours as well as on two legs
“This experience has torn a huge hole in me.”
Zoanthropy is a psychiatric syndrome within which the patient has the delusional belief of turning into an animal.
A NEW YORK WEREWOLF.
Strange Delusion of a Man Who Crawls on all Fours.
NEW YORK, October . 21.-
James Rubinstein thinks he is a werewolf. He walks on all tours and howls like a wolf.
A werewolf was in legendary lore it is supposed to be a human who, having given
offense to some supernatural being, was
metamorphosed by the latter into the
shape of a wolf. The soul, however, retained all its human attributes, passions and desires.
Rubinstein came to this country several years ago from Germany, A week ago he began showing signs of the approach of his mysterious sickness. His wife noticed that he would frequently drop on all fours and crawl around as if in search of something. Yesterday Rubinstein crawled up to his wife and barked fiercely. Then he snarled and snapped at her, and when she fled from the room he howled like a lost soul. The frightened woman sent
for an ambulance and had her husband taken to the hospital.
Naugatuck Daily News, October 1897
And now In the present I stumbled on an article on how to be a werewolf. Make people believe you are…
Now switch to the present and you can find how to guides on being a werewolf, costumes and online groups to role play with you, almost normalizing the fascination.
The difference is he believed he was one, and the other just pretend to be one. But because of these cosplay groups, we may never know if someone actually does believe they are one…
A Strange, Strange Story…
Chilliewhack In his younger days
Charley belongs to a hamlet near.
He was known as one of the best hunters in the province and had many thrilling adventures in his time. Did he know anything about the hairy ape-like men who were supposed to inhabit the distant mountains?
The old warrior smiled, and answered that he had had a slight acquaintance with them. He had been in what he thought was one of their houses. “And that is not all .” said he. “I met and spoke to one of their women, and I shot, But let Charcley tell the story himself The strange people of whom there are but few now rarely seen
and seldom met said the old
hunter. “are known by the name of Sasquatch, or the hairy mountain men.
-The first time I came to know about these people continued the old man “I did not see anybody. Three young men and myself were picking same berries on a rocky mountain slope five or six miles from the old town of Yale. In our search for berries. We
suddenly stumbled upon a large opening in
the side of the mountain. This was discovery greatly surprised all of us, for we knew every foot of the mountain. and never knew, nor heard there was even the vicinity outside the mouth of the cave, there was an enormous boulder. We peered into the cavity but couldn’t see anything.
“We gathered some pitch wood, lighted it and began to explore. But before we got very far from the entrance of the cave, we came upon a sort of stone house or enclosure: It was a crude affair. We
couldn’t make a thorough examination. for our pitchwood kept going out. We left. We were intending to return in a couple of days and go on exploring. Old Indians, to whom
we told the story of our discovery warned us not to venture near the cave again, as it was surely occupied by the Sasquatch.
That was the first time I heard about the
hairy men that inhabit the mountains.
We, however, disregarded the advice
of the old men and sneaked off to explore the cave, but to our great disappointment found the boulder rolled back into the
mouth and fitting it so nicely that you
might suppose it had been there made for that purpose. Charley
intimated that he hoped to have enough
money someday to buy sutticient
dynamite to blow open the cave of the Sasquatch and see how far it extends
through the mountain. The Indian then took
up the thread of his story and told of his
first meeting with one of these men. A number of other Indians and himself
Were bathing in A small lake near Yule. He
was dressing when suddenly out from
behind a rock, only a few feet away stepped a nude hairy man. “Oh he was so
big man!” continued the old hunter, he looked calmer then me for moment his eyes
were so kind looking that I was about to
speak to him when he turned about and
walked into the forest. At the same place two weeks later, Charley together with several of his companions saw the giant. But this time he ran towards the mountain. This was twenty years after the discovery of the cave…
A Collection of Extraordinary and Weird Tales
About the Hairy Giants of Chehalis Hinterlands
As told in MacLean’s Magazine by J. W. Burns.
January 6th, 1937…
The vast mountain solitudes of British Columbia, of which but very little of it has been explored, is populated by a hairy race of giants-not ape-like men. Reports from time to time, covering a period of many years, have come from the province that hairy giants had been occasionally seen by Indians and white trappers in the mountains vastness, far from the pathway of civilization. These reports, however, were always vague and for that reason no person could be found, or, at least, nobody came forward with the information that they had obtained a close-up view of these strange creatures.
Persistent rumors led the writer to make diligent enquiries among older Indians.
The question relating to the subject was always, or nearly always, evaded with the trite excuse: “The white man don’t believe, he make joke of the Indian.” But after three years of plodding, we have come into possession of information more definite and authentic than has come to light at any
other previous time. Disregarding rumor and hearsay, we have prevailed upon men who claim they had actual close contact with these hairy giants and are willing to tell
what they know about them. Their story is set down here in good faith….here is the first witnesses account. He wishes to remain anonymous and will be referred as XY.
X Y lives on the Chehalis Reserve. I believe that he is a reliable as well as an intelligent Indian. He gave me the following thrilling
account of his experience with these people.
Encountering the Giant…
“One evening in the month of May some years ago,”
said the hero, “I was walking along the foot of the mountain about a mile from the Chehalls reserve. I thought I heard a noise something like that of a grunt nearby. Looking in the direction in which it came,
I was startled to see what I took at first sight to be a huge bear crouched upon a
boulder twenty or thirty feet away. I raised my ritle to shoot it, but, as I did the creature stood up and let out a piercing yell. It was a man-giant, no less than six feet and one-half in height, and covered with hair. He was in a rage and jumped from the boulder to the ground. I fled. but not before I felt his breath upon my cheek. I never ran so fast before or since through brush and under.
I ran toward the Statloo or Chehalis river. Toward where my dugout was. From time to time I looked over my shoulder. The giant was quickly overtaking me, only a few feet separated us; another look and the distance measured to be less than fifty-
then the Chehalis river was there and in a moment it shot across the stream to the opposite bank. The swift river. however.
did not in the least daunt the giant for he began to wade it immediately. “I arrived home almost worn out from running and
felt sick. Taking an anxious look around the
house, I was relieved to find the wife and children inside. I bolted the door and barricaded it with everything at hand. Then with my rifle ready I stood near the door
and awaited his coming.”
X added that if he had not been so much excited he could easily have shot the giant when he began to wade the river.
“After an anxious waiting of twenty minutes.” resumed the Indian. “I heard a noise approaching like the trampling
of a horse. I looked through a crack in the old wall. It was the giant. Darkness’
had not yet set in and I had a good look at him. Except that he was covered with hair and twice the bulk of the average man, there was nothing to distinguish him from
the rest of us. He pushed, against the wall of the old house with such force it shook back and forth. The old cedar shook and timber creaked and groaned so much under the strain that I was afraid that it
would fall down and kill us. I whispered to the old woman to take the children under the bed.” The Indian pointed out what remained of the old house in which he lived at the time, explaining that the giant treated it so roughly that it had to be abandoned the following winter. “After
prowling and grunting like an animal around the house continued the Indian. “he went
away. We were glad, for the children and the wife were uncomfortable under the old bedstead.
Next morning I found his tracks in the mud around the house, the biggest of either man or beast I had ever seen. The tracks measured twenty two Inches in length, but narrow in proportion to their length.”
To be continued….
There are a few things I loved about this article over others. I liked that the witness called it a man giant and specifically mentioned it wasn’t an ape.
I was happy to read that the author of original article was looking for someone he found credible. Followed up by going to see the cabin and the area for himself. This was 1937, this was BBF, my new new term for anytime before he was named bigfoot officially.
This man wanted to remain nameless so he was t looking for any fame or fortune. This is a long article with a few encounters, so I’ll post another part tomorrow morning.
Have a great Saturday morning!
Although I have a lovely picture above of theee two strong marvelous creatures fishing together, this encounter is not a friendly one…
HARRISON MILLS, Feb. 23 A terrific battle a fight for life of prodigious strength matched against savage ferocity between a hairy giant of the Sasquatch and a huge bear, which after ten minutes of wild struggle, fury and rage, ended in the strangling of bruin when the wild man of the Chehalis hinterlands crushed the life out of him. The story of this unusual drama of the wilderness was told by three Harrison River Indians who were spectators of the singular incident one evening last week as they were walking along the Chehalis river close to the canyon
. “It was a skookum (strong) fight, ugh’, ugh’,” said Jimmy Craneback, one of the. trio of spectators, “and as no one of our little party had ever seen a hairy giant of the Sasquatch in a fight before, I’m telling you we got the biggest kick of our life. It was a hair – raising fight between savage and brute.” Asked how they came to witness the unusual battle, Jimmy said, “We were on our way home after an all – day unsuccessful hunt in the Chehalis mountains. We had just crossed the government road at the Chehalis river a mile or so north of the Indian village, when all at once we heard a roar in the forest ahead of us that shook the firs and cedars around and startled the crows and bluejays from their roost. We stopped to listen. Down the old trail ahead of us we could hear groans, growls, thuds and the snap and crack of rotten branches as If old Nick himself had gone off his noodle and was running amuck through the dark forest,” The hunter said that they were not afraid for their own safety as each of them carried a rifle. “But we were worried,” went on Jimmy, “that some old woman of the Chehalis might be in the forest digging roots for baskets and was being mauled by a bear, for bear at this time of the year are lean, vicious and hungry. “In silence we loaded our rifles hurriedly. “Fifty yards or so down the wooded trail we came upon a sight that made our eyes pop. In awe we stopped dead in our tracks. In the fading twilight and shadowy forest we first thought we were looking on two bears fighting each other to the death.
As we stood beside a log twenty yards away we could see the great struggle of strength. There was a crunching of bones as the monsters in their rage came to grips with each other – and tumbled and tossed about in their fury on the forest floor within a few feet of the Chehalis. But there was something about one of the monsters that puzzled us.” The hunters were now so excited with this hitherto unwitnessed drama of the wilderness that they wished to see the victor of the contest before they raised their rifles. “We wouldn’t have raised our rifles when we did,” explained Jimmy, “but it looked as if they were about to roll over the bank into the river any moment and we didn’t want to lose such big game. But then we never shot, for as we raised our rifles we were startled by a yell it had in it something human and came from one of. the combatants, which to our astonished ears sounded like “poo – woo – uoo.’ ” ‘Good, gosh,’ said Ike Joe as we lowered our rifles, ‘boys its a Sasquatch and a bear we’ll take the side of the giant, its well to be on their side. He’s put up a great fight let’s step in and help him.’ ” The boys were In a sweat, but happy the Sasquatch gave a “pooh – woo,” which timely utterance had no doubt saved his life.
“Finally,” said Jimmy, “the giant got his powerful hairy arms around the bear’s neck. It must have been a hu’m – dinger of a hold for the bear began to gasp for breath, and gasping pawed the air as his tongue was hanging out. The wild man had won the fight. With a grunt he flung the carcass of the bear into the river.” Asked was the Sasquatch a big fellow, Jimmy looked surprised. “You should know,” he grinned, “that it takes more than an infant to choke the daylights out of a big bear.” It does.
A hair raising encounter with A hairy
giant, A first hand account from
an Indian, a chief’s grandson, who once came face to face with a hairy Sasquatch and barely escaped with his life, the witness is a highly respected resident of the Songhees Reserve, here is how he described the creature, “His eyes glowed like the noonday sun, and the hair on his body was like moss on the rocks. His voice sounded like the roar of a surf from a heavy sea.”
The old Indian related that in his youth he was searching for a young deer up a mountain slope. When he reached the summit there was no deer. He was about to retrace his steps when he heard a loud roar. “At first I was like a frozen man, even the rocks were trembling. I looked up and there, not far away from me was a hairy man maybe 18 feet tall. As tall as a mountain tree. He was holding the deer. I remember that my spirit animal guide was a wolf, that it made me fast, so I turned and ran like the wind, he was throwing trees at me. You can still see the trees up there on the mountain rotting.”
From the description of the mountain he gave, it is Mount Matheson, near Rocky Point. He said they have always lived on Vancouver Island, but now that it’s settled they have moved to the interior…
Excerpt from the Times Colonist, Victoria, British Columbia, Canada, 26 Apr 1957,
. . . when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth. Sherlock Holmes In case you haven’t noticed, it is Bigfoot season again. When the rainy season ends and the cold fronts begin to move in, the Bigfoots emerge from hiding. Already this fall, mass Bigfoot sightings have begun in Florida: a Lakeland man shot one in the Green Swamp (it got away), an Apopka security guard was scratched by one at a nursery, a hitchhiker near Belleview saw one and the smell (not the Bigfoot) knocked him down. The Suncoast is no exception: this month five were seen near Brooksville (where more Bigfoots are sighted than anywhere else in Florida). They have been sighted near S.R. 583 in Safety Harbor, on the shores of the Pithlacoo-chee River, strolling along lonely Pasco County roadways, at Little Salt Springs south of Sarasota, thrashing about in a Venice wilderness, and crossing S.R. 476 up in Citrus County. Just last Thursday, Port Richey high school student David Humphrey was chased across the Bay Boulevard bridge by one. These are real Bigfoots, now, not the ones who will be appearing at your door tonight grunting “Trick or Treat.” You hope. One never knows for sure. That’s why we have thoroughly researched the Bigfoot phenomena to prepare a sort of Bigfoot primer to aid in distinguishing the actual abominables from the hirsute heathens. How do you know a Bigfoot is nearby? One always senses the presence of a Bigfoot before it appears. A severe feeling of nausea and fright will take hold one minute before a Bigfoot appears. The fright is understandable. A scale devised by Dr. Grover Krantz (physical anthropologist at Washington State University) puts the average Bigfoot at between seven and nine feet tall. It weighs between 500 and 1,000 pounds (a 12-footer weighs 2,350 pounds) with a 5.8-inch heel breadth and four-to-six foot stride. The nausea is advance warning of the worst case of B.O. you’ll ever encounter. How do Bigfoots smell? ” Bad. Real bad. So bad, that those who have been near Bigfoots have trouble describing the odor, most settling for a combination of the following: rotten meat, skunk, rotten eggs, moldy cheese, goat dung, and burnt sul- phur. Much traveled Bigfoot author Ivan Sanderson says the smell is ciose to that emitted by the “pygmies of the Ituri Forest of the Congo Uele” (and that we smell like “boiled rabbit” to Bigfoots). Suncoast Bigfoot spotter John Sohl says it is “like being downwind from the Toytown dump.” Charles Stoekman, whose Florida Keys home is constantly plagued by Bigfoots, claims they smell “like a dog that hasn’t been bathed in a year and suddenly gets rained on.” What don’t Bigfoots like? Rain. They like rivers and swimming pools, but nix on rain. When a Bigfoot gets rained upon, it shakes its arms vigorously until they are dry. Bigfoots do not like shotguns. A New Port Richey woman saw one in her backyard and threw a bag of garbage and a cooler filled with trash at the monster. It didn’t budge. Bigfoots love garbage. But when her husband emerged with a shotgun, it was long gone. When is one safe from Bigfoots? If it is raining or you are with someone owns a shotgun. What do Bigfoots like? Tricycles. Experts don’t know why but there have been numerous reports of Bigfoots walking off with trikes. They like to eat rats (which they squash before eating), decapitated racoons and ducks (which they . . . well, you get the picture), flour pancakes and frogs of any size. Bigfoots pull the tongues out of everything they eat. Experts feel they do this because they resent not having the power of speech. Bigfoots also like fire. What is the greatest ambition of a Bigfoot’s life? To start a fire. In fact, one way of tracking a Bigfoot is looking for the piles of branches and twigs it leaves. Try as it might, a Bigfoot cannot start a fire. What is an average day in the life of a Bigfoot like? Eating, trying to start fires, running from rain, searching for tricycles. What are some other interesting facts about Bigfoots? When more than one Bigfoot are together, they walk in order of size, tallest to shortest. Bigfoots are nocturnal, omnivorous, bury their dead and hide in trenches covered by branches and leaves. They are said to be direct descen-dents of Esau, whom the Bible describes as smelling like a “field of rotten potatoes.” Is Bigfoot known by any other name? Sasquateh (NW U.S.), Skunk Ape (SE U.S.), Yeti (Himalayas), Big-Unn (Pasco County), Yequi (Tibet), Sisimito (Honduras), Shookpa (Nepal), Jacko (Rocky Mountains), Mi-Go (Bhutan), Shiru (Andes) and Gin-Sung (Central China). What do Bigfoots look like? Massive shoulders. Body covered with dark hair. V-shaped chest. The bulk is equal to a six-foot human weighing between 300 and 400 pounds. The hands are wide with long palms, short fingers and thumbs nearly the same length as fingers. Forearms are long, biceps thick, hands reach to the knees. Bigfoots have a knot on the back, no neck and a small lump of a head which resembles the peaked hump of a yak. The face is hairless but not Neanderthal, as most think. The forehead slopes only slightly, the nose is pugged with nostrils flowing into the upper lip and there is a tuft of thick hair running across the forehead. Eyes are glowing and cat-like and have been described as both hot pink and yellow. How does Bigfoot sound? The call of the Bigfoot is a high-pitched shrill bark, 10 times louder than a dog, like a coach’s whistle blown in a tunnel and amplified. It is said that baby Bigfoots are born with the sense of language but lose it by maturity since there is no one else to talk to. There are only two Bigfoot words on record “hu hu,” and “ook.” Why is it called Bigfoot? Because its feet are at least 17-inches long, calloused on the edges, have short metatarsels, an equal row of straight toes (slightly webbed), wide heels and double balls. Young Bigfoots have arched feet; older ones are flatfooted. The footprint is 3-6 times deeper than a man’s. Bigfoots often have deformed right feet, although experts cannot figure out why. What should you do if you see a Bigfoot tonight? Put a tricycle in its “hu-hu or ook” bag and Bigfoot will leave you alone.
Article from The Tampa Bay Sun from October 77
The idea of a being, half wolf, half man, and possessing also many demoniacal attributes, is a very curious piece of old-world superstition still to be found in very many European countries , and strengthened, no doubt, by the discovery, at times, of children who have been carried off and cared for by wolves who preferred the role of foster-mother to that of devourer —an occurrence of which there are frequent proofs on record. The wild and howling night winds, the Maruts that gave name to our too familiar nightmare, may have given the first notion of demon wolves to the trembling listener as they passed shrieking by his solitary tent or hut. As the transition of thought by which the spirit-wolf and the human form became amalgamated is easily imagined. There appears to be plenty of evidence that, at different times, a form of madness has broken out by which individuals have fancied themselves to be turned into wolves. Burton, in his ” Anatomy of Melancholy,” desoribes this disease, which he calls Lycanthropia, as ” when men run howling about graves and fields in the night, and will not be dissuaded ,that they are not wolves or some such beasts.”
-Manchester Courier, October 20, 1883
Happy Werewolf Wednesday!
Indonesian officials have posted a reward for anyone who captures a Tasmanian Tiger, a doglike striped animal that zoologists say has been extinct for at least 60 years. While there’s no scientific proof of their existence, news reports this week quoted villagers as saying that packs of Tasmanian Tigers have been killing farm animals in moonlit attacks to feed their pups. The official Antara news agency said officials in the remote mountainous interior of Irian Jaya, the Indonesian-controlled western half of the island of New Guinea, offered $670 for the first Tasmanian Tiger captured alive.
Named after their only known habitat in Tasmania, an island state off southeastern Australia, the animals have dark stripes on their backs. They raise their young in pouches like kangaroos and other Australian marsupials. Hunted mercilessly by European sheep ranchers last century, they were declared extinct when Tasmanian Tiger back on ths prowl Villagers of Irian Jaya, the Indonesian-controlled western half of the island of New Guinea, have reported packs of Tasmanian Tigers killing farm animals. The Tasmanian Tiger, also called the Tasmanian Woff, is a large marsupial native to Tasmania. Scientists believed it’s been extinct for at least 60 years. The Tasmanian is about 5 leet long with light brown fur with dark stripes across its lower back The jaws of a Tasmanian Tiger are believed to open wider than any other mammal. They raised their young in pouches like other marsupials which include the kangaroo, koala, possum, Tasmanian Devil, and wallaby. The last known Tasmanian Tiger died in a zoo in Hobart in 1936. Dozens of unsubstantiated sightings have been made in Tasmania ever since. Now New Guinean villagers claim packs of six or seven Tasmanian Tigers have been killing pigs, cats and other domestic animals during the past month. The Indonesian Observer newspaper said one Tasmanian Tiger was killed recently by villagers and sold to highway workers who ate it for dinner.
Wisconsin State Journal, August 1997
Art by Jon MacNair
Seeing the thylacines last images from that zoo in the 30s is heartbreaking. Knowing we hunted an animal to extinction is almost unbearable. But as much as I hope they are still alive and hiding from humanity, I am very troubled about the idea of bringing them back. Their habitat is not what it once was and there is no guarantee at all they won’t be hunted mercilessly all over again.
They are beautiful creatures, and we should remember them as they were…