Who’s up for a fun little trivia night with ABC? Here’s your question. This is an excerpt from a certain highly popular book on mythical creatures. What do you think this animal is?

Variations: Caab; Sahab (typo)

Among Aristotle’s many references to the elephant, we are told that its five toes are not perfectly jointed, its forelegs are larger than its hind ones, and its hind legs have short ankles. It has a trunk that it can use as a hand, drinking and eating with it, pulling up trees with it, and using it to breathe when walking through water. This remarkable appendage is cartilaginous and jointless.

The 1220 Latin translation of Aristotle by Michael Scot was based off an Arabic translation from the Greek. Scot retained various Arabic words in his text, and hence Aristotle’s passage on the elephant’s appendicular anatomy became et habet duo cahab parva respect magnitudinis corporis sui – here, cahab is Arabic for “ankle”, and the phrase reads “and [the elephant] has two ankles that are short relative to the size of its body”. Scot used cahab consistently to refer to the ankle or the talus bone.

Thomas de Cantimpré did not recognize the word cahab and assumed it to be the subject of the verb habet. From that the sentence became Caab animal marinum est, ut dicit Aristotiles, parvos habens pedes respectu corporis sui, quod utique magnum est, “Caab is a sea animal, as says Aristotle, whose legs are small in proportion to its body, which is huge”. Based on that and the remainder of the Aristotelian description, Thomas says that the caab has one leg that is long and which it uses as a hand to bring vegetation to its mouth; this leg is made of cartilage. Thomas also misreads the behavior of the elephant in water and makes his caab a fully aquatic marine animal, one that breathes underwater and then, upon reaching the surface, spouts the water it swallowed while breathing. Finally, he spontaneously gives his animal the feet of a cow.

In turn, Albertus Magnus “borrows” Thomas’ account, dropping the reference to Aristotle. This time it is called cahab, and now all of its legs are cartilaginous and resemble those of a calf. Albertus also makes a logical association with the cetacean act of spouting; his cahab holds its breath underwater and spouts at the surface sicut delfinus et cetus.

The last iteration of the cahab is provided by Olaus Magnus, who transposes this odd cartilage-legged sea creature into Scandinavia. He tactfully compares the cartilaginous feet to those of both cows and calves (vaccae, aut vituli). Olaus cites Albertus Magnus as the source of the cahab in the Latin version of his Historia, but the French and English translations omit this crucial citation.

Finally, the English translation misreads the name of the cahab as “sahab”, decisively casting this elephant adrift in a sea of translation errors.

References

Aristotle, Cresswell, R. trans. (1862) Aristotle’s History of Animals. Henry G. Bohn, London.

de Cantimpré, T. (1280) Liber de natura rerum. Bibliothèque municipale de Valenciennes.

Cuba, J. (1539) Le iardin de santé. Philippe le Noir, Paris.

Gauvin, B.; Jacquemard, C.; and Lucas-Avenel, M. (2013) L’auctoritas de Thomas de Cantimpré en matière ichtyologique (Vincent de Beauvais, Albert le Grand, l’Hortus sanitatis). Kentron, 29, pp. 69-108.

Magnus, A. (1920) De Animalibus Libri XXVI. Aschendorffschen Verlagbuchhandlung, Münster.

Magnus, O. (1555) Historia de gentibus septentrionalibus. Giovanni M. Viotto, Rome.

Magnus, O. (1561) Histoire des pays septentrionaus. Christophle Plantin, Antwerp.

Magnus, O. (1658) A compendious history of the Goths, Swedes, and Vandals, and other Northern nations. J. Streater, London.

Unknown. (1538) Ortus Sanitatis. Joannes de Cereto de Tridino.

The Kongamato, “overwhelmer of boats”, is a river-shutter of Kasempa District in northern Zambia. It is known from Kaonde folklore, and the Jiundu Swamp is one of its favorite haunts. The fact that the Jiundu has historically been a haven for thieves, murderers, and assorted lowlifes is probably relevant.

A kongamato is a kind of bird, or rather a lizard with the membranous wings of a bat. It has a wingspan of 4 to 7 feet across and lacks feathers, its body covered in skin. It is mostly red in color. The beak is armed with sharp teeth. Claims that the kongamato is a surviving pterosaur are best forgotten.

Kongamatos live downstream of river fords. There they cause the river to stop flowing and the water level to rise, overwhelming and tipping over canoes. Sometimes a canoe will slow down and come to a dead stop despite the paddler’s best efforts; this is because a kongamato has seized the boat from underneath the water.

Few people see a kongamato and live, and the kongamato itself is invulnerable and immortal, eating any projectile thrown at it and leaving no physical trace of itself behind. When it kills people it devours only the two little fingers, the two little toes, the earlobes, and the nostrils. That said, four deaths attributed to the kongamato in 1911 did not record any such mutilation; more likely, then, that a kongamato caused their deaths by the flooding of the Mutanda River near Lufumatunga.

To ward off kongamato attack, the charm known as muchi wa kongamato is used. This consists of mulendi tree root ground and mixed with water. The resulting paste is placed in a bark cup. When crossing a dangerous ford, the mixture is sprinkled onto the water using a bundle of mulendi bark strips. This wards off the kongamato and its floods.

References

Melland, F. H. (1923) In Witch-bound Africa. J. B. Lippincott Company, Philadelphia.

Variations: Boyg, Bøjgen, Bojgen, Bøygen, Boygen, The Great Bøjg of Etnedal

The Great Bøjg of Etnedal is a troll encountered by Peer Gynt in his Gutsbrandal adventures. It was memorable enough that Ibsen included it in his version of Peer Gynt, making it an even more otherworldly creature.

The Bøjg is vast, slimy, slippery, persistent, and shapeless. In the original fairytale, it has a head, which lessens its shapelessness somewhat. Ibsen describes it as a misty, slimy being, neither dead nor alive. Running into it is like running into a nest of sleepy growling bears. Its name comes from bøje, to bend, implying something twisting but also something that forces you to turn elsewhere, conquering without attacking. It coils around houses in the dark, or encircles its victims and bewilders them. Attacking the Bøjg directly is futile.

Wherever Gynt turns, he finds himself running into the clammy unpleasant mass. The Bøjg blocks his path to a mountain hut and nothing Gynt does can defeat it. In the fairytale Gynt fires three shots into the Bøjg’s head but to no avail; he eventually defeats the Bøjg through trickery. In Ibsen’s play the Bøjg is overcome by women, psalms, and church bells.

Within Ibsen’s symbolism it is seen as an insurmountable obstacle, a being of compromise and lethargy.

References

Hopp, Z.; Ramholt, T. trans. (1961) Norwegian Folklore Simplified. Iohn Griegs Boktrykkeri, Bergen.

Ibsen, H., Watts, P. trans. (1970) Peer Gynt. Penguin Books, Harmondsworth.

Variations: Geometrigradus cilioretractus (Cox)

Wapaloosies are found in Pacific Coast forests, and appear to be the mammalian answer to the inchworm. A wapaloosie is as big as a dachshund, with velvety fur, woodpecker-like feet, and a spike-tipped tail that aids in its caterpillarish climbing. And climb a wapaloosie does, moving effortlessly up the tallest of trees to feed on bracket fungus.

The wapaloosie drive to climb continues long after death. One lumberjack in Washington shot a wapaloosie and made a pair of fur mittens out of it. When he grabbed an axe, the mittens immediately shimmied up the handle to the top. They proceeded to do so with everything the lumberjack tried to hold, so he was forced to discard them. The mittens were last seen clambering over lumber slash.

References

Cox, W. T. (1910) Fearsome Creatures of the Lumberwoods with a Few Desert and Mountain Beasts. Judd and Detweiler, Washington D. C.

No post today. Hiatus under consideration.

On indefinite hiatus, effective now.

ABC will return to normal operations in around a week’s time (June 10), by which time the author will probably have recovered from a severe case of academic nihilism. We thank you for your patience in those trying times.

I love you folks, I really do. Thank you so much for your support. I feel like I’m constantly destroying and then re-earning the trust we’ve built up, but I hope you’ll be patient with me again… I feel like you also deserve some explanations.

To clear up any misunderstandings: my main problems with tumblr were that

A) I felt my effort was going unrewarded. As in, the creature posts that make up ABC would get far less notes (and of those, much fewer reblogs) than random thoughts that pop into my head on the way home from work. That was demoralizing to some extent, but it’s endemic to how the tumblr (and social media in general) system of likes/reblogs works. Short, snappy things that reinforce your preexisting conceptions are worth far more than anything that requires reading. Again, this is not tumblr in particular but social media in general, and it was foolish of me to assume an encyclopedia-esque endeavor would be a good fit to that format.

B) I just wasn’t cut out to maintaining it beyond the creature posts. Tumblr thrives on originality and force of personality and talent (usually to create fanwork). I am, as I’ve stated earlier, a very boring person. I can’t post Exciting Opinions or Awesome Takes. I also cannot draw sexy fanart (or any kind of art for that matter) to save my own life.

C) To my shame, I created the tumblr originally to advertise the main site. This is something looked upon with scorn by many and it was a mistake, I apologize.

So with these points, and the fact that I was losing control of my life (it’s been a rough week, sorry) I deleted the tumblr in a fit of academic nihilism (as one of the smartest people I know put it). Was it a good idea? Can’t say. Do I regret it? Not yet. I only hope I can make it up to you, the readers, somehow.

If you were following me on tumblr and you’re reading this, I’m sorry for everything, but you’re welcome to like, comment, and discuss on the official site and Facebook.

If you’ve read this far, why are you wasting time? Go do something useful. Like read the rest of this site for example.

Here’s a question. With tumblr down (for better or worse), would you like to see more asides, jokes, images, definitions, making-ofs, obscure modern monsters, not-appearing-in-ABCs, essays, shower thoughts, rants, and other miscellanea? Or “just stick with the encyclopedia entries ABC, you’ve done enough damage already ”?

Not Appearing in ABC: The Ozaena

The Ozaena is one of those creatures that has gained some traction due to the excellent Bestiary by Jonathan Hunt. I won’t reproduce the image in question, but it can probably be found easily enough. Be careful though as “ozaena” is also a medical condition, and the images are unpleasant.

In it, the entry for O describes the Ozaena or “stink-polyp” as a hideous, be-tentacled blue creature with a foul smell. Hunt makes it look more alien, or something like a sea anemone – a polyp, presumably.. It varies in size from tiny to enormous, with one Spanish terror growing to the size of a ninety-gallon cask.

Quite a memorable creature, eh? Shame it doesn’t exist.

To understand what we’re talking about, we need to specify what polyp means. It’s not polyp as we understand it today, but short for polypus or “many-legs”. It is no more or less than the ancient term for the octopus.

Aristotle distinguishes several kinds of octopus. Amongst those are the eledone, the bolitaena, and the ozolis – what would eventually become the Roman ozaena. Those are small in size and variegated, and have only one set of suckers along their tentacles. In other words, our ozaena is none other than the musky octopus Eledone moschata, which smells of musk. One of its synonyms is Ozoena moschata. It is neither huge nor terrifying.

The giant octopus story is in fact a separate account, unrelated to the ozolis, ozaena, or whatever. An enormous octopus came ashore at Dicaerchia in Italy, where it ravaged the cargo of Iberian merchants. The merchants would leave pickled fish in large jars on the shore, and the octopus would haul itself out of the water, break the jars, and eat the fish. This happened multiple times, and the merchants could not understand who the thief could be. A servant was left on guard one moonlit night, and he reported the incredible occurrence to his masters. The next time the octopus appeared it was assaulted with axes and slain.

So there you have it, a Frankensteined account creating an alien creature from our modern unfamiliarity with archaic terms and our tendency to lump accounts together for convenience.

It’s alright. Shake off the heartbreak, there’s plenty more creatures to make up for it. With that I leave you with Thomas de Cantimpré’s imagery of the octopus or polypus, apparently in the process of drowning someone.

Variations: Kleudde, Kleure

The first notable record of Kludde’s appearance was penned in 1840 in Ternat, by the Baron of Saint-Genois. This back-riding shapeshifter appears in Brabant and Flanders, notably in Merchtem and in Dendermonde, where he lives in the Dendre. In Ostend he is considered a necker or nix, and the flat country knows him as a werewolf. He causes fear and confusion and drinks green pond-water, but avoids crosses and consecrated areas.

Kludde comes out at night in the Flemish mists. He has earned his name from the call he cries while fleeing – “Kludde, Kludde”! As a shapeshifter, he has no fixed appearance, and Kludde has been encountered in the forms of a great black dog with a rattling chain around its neck, a half-starved horse, a sheep, a cat, a bat, a frog, or even a tree. The only constant in Kludde’s transformations is the presence of two dancing blue flames that flit ahead of him. These are Kludde’s eyes.

The pranks Kludde plays are mischievous but not deadly. In the guise of a black dog or werewolf he will jump onto a person’s neck, and vanish after wrestling his victim to the ground. As a horse, he tricks people into riding him, only to gallop full-tilt and fling his rider into a body of water. As his erstwhile jockey flounders in the water, Kludde lies on his belly and laughs loud and long, vanishing only when the victim emerges from the water. As a tree, Kludde appears as a small and delicate sapling, before growing to such a height that his branches are lost in the clouds. This unexpected event shocks and unnerves all who see it, and amuses Kludde.

It is foolish to evade Kludde, as he can wind like a snake in any direction, foiling attempts to outmaneuver him. Trying to seize him is like grabbing air, and it leaves burns behind. He can also make himself invisible to some people and not to others, driving travelers out of their minds as they try to describe the protean creature tailing them – yet when their companions look behind, they see nothing but an empty road.

References

de Blécourt, W. (2007) “I Would Have Eaten You Too”: Werewolf Legends in the Flemish, Dutch, and German Area. Folklore 118, pp. 23-43.

van Hageland, A. (1973) La Mer Magique. Marabout, Paris.

de Plancy, J. C. (1863) Dictionnaire Infernal. Henri Plon, Paris.

Thorpe, B. (1852) Northern Mythology, v. III. Edward Lumley, London.

I want to thank you all for your support and feedback (those of you who emailed me, I’m going to get back to you eventually, don’t worry!)

Regarding the tumblr, I have made my peace with a) the fact that it’s not really my style, and b) the fact that I must live with the consequences of my rash decisions, pick up the pieces, and start over.

I’ve decided that, while not the best platform for longform posts, it would still benefit those who are on it (and prefer it to, say, Facebook) to have updates go there. I won’t have any pretensions about my place there and I will put creatures and nothing else.

Therefore! For those of you with tumblr, I will be rebuilding the archive at a-book-of-creatures.tumblr.com. Since this is a new endeavor I’m trying something slightly different and I’m minimizing information there – ya want more, yer gonna have to go to the main site.

Thank you again, and onwards once more.

Variations: Osschaard

Found in maritime Flanders, land of Waas, and especially Hamme, near Dendermonde, Osschaert is one of several mischievous shapeshifters that plague Belgium. He was particularly around the chapel of Twee Bruggen.

According to van Hageland, his name may be a combination of ors, an archaic word denoting a horse or more generally a mount, or os, an ox, with hard, meaning “strong” or “valiant”. In this sense, Osschaard or Osschaert is a headstrong and dangerous steed.

As with others of his kind, Osschaert appears in countless forms, most notably a human-headed bull with heavy chains on its legs and feet. He has also appeared as a dog, a rabbit, a horse, a giant, a dwarf… At Knoche-sur-mer, where he serves as a bogey to frighten children, he is a ghost with a bull’s head. Commonly he drags a long length of chain behind him.

Osschaert is mischievous rather than actively evil. He delights in jumping on the backs of people and forcing them to carry him until they collapse. He is just as likely to jump off his mount’s shoulders to dive into a woman’s basket, causing her to stagger under the sudden load. Osschaert particularly enjoys tormenting sinners and wicked people, and will target them above all others.

He rules over all the water in the area, so the first fish caught is returned as an appeasing gift to Osschaert. Not that he’s guaranteed to ensure a good catch. And beware of catching fish without thanking Osschaert! One fisherman dragged his catch onto the beach only to find himself pinned down for an hour by Osschaert; when he was finally released his catch had disappeared. Another fisherman pulled an incredibly heavy net onto his boat, only to find it full of horse manure.

At the church of Twee Bruggen, daring Osschaert out loud to scratch you will result in a mauling. Specifically, one only has to utter the formula Grypke, Grypke grauw, wilt gy my grypen, grypt my nou (“Grypke, Grypke grey, if you will gripe me, gripe me now”) and Osschaert will appear on your back and ride you to the nearest crossroads or image of the Virgin Mary. In fact, in areas where people dared Osschaert to appear resulted in the spirit becoming more cruel and aggressive due to being repeatedly called upon.

A young man of Doel, crossing a field by night, found himself face to face with an enormous, monstrous horse. “This is Osschaert”, he thought to himself. “I must get out of his way”. He decided to pass through the churchyard, but then met a dog the size of a horse on the main road. He crossed himself and took another path to the churchyard, but there was Osschaert in the form of a rabbit, jumping back and forth towards him. He tried to turn around the churchyard, only to find Osschaert waiting for him in the shape of a donkey with enormous fiery eyes the size of plates! That was the point when the man gave up, jumped the wall, and ran home in a cold sweat.

Another man, a fisherman of Kieldrecht named Blommaert, thought he could outsmart Osschaert. He usually placed his catch of fish in a water-tub near the window. One night he found that some fish were missing; not only that, but there were ashes on the hearth, as though someone had broiled the fish on the embers. Blommaert could find no signs of break-in, and concluded Osschaert was behind this mischief. When the same thing happened a second time, he decided to cure Osschaert of his thieving behavior. He covered the entire hearth with horse-dung, and scattered some ashes over it to disguise it. Osschaert showed up as usual, pronouncing “Blommeken, vischkens braeyen”, but when he tried to cook the fish it ended up spoiled with the dung. He ran away screaming and cursing in frustration. Blommaert celebrated his cunning revenge – but alas, it does not pay to outwit Osschaert. The next day, when Blommaert drew in his net, he found it extraordinarily heavy. After much effort, he hauled it on deck, and found it to be full to cracking with horse-dung. Osschaert laughed loud and long, and Blommaert returned home angry and defeated.

Today Osschaert is retired, if not dead. A priest at Hamme was said to have banished Osschaert to wander at the sea-shore for ninety-nine years. And at Spije, Malines, one can see Osschaert’s coffin. It is a small coffin-shaped bridge over a stream.

References

van Hageland, A. (1973) La Mer Magique. Marabout, Paris.

Harou, A. (1905) Mythologie et folk-lore de l’enfance. Revue des Traditions Populaires, v. XX, p. 96.

Thorpe, B. (1852) Northern Mythology, v. III. Edward Lumley, London.

Visit sunny Ethiopia! See the elephants, rhinos, pythons, and depressed snake-charmers!

From Le Livre des Merveilles.

Roeschaard’s name is attributed to his call of “Roes, roes, roes!” Etymologically it may be derived from the Scandinavian ruske, “to rush at”; the Anglo-Saxon breosan, “terrify”, or the Dutch roezen, “making a din”. It may also simply be another variant of Osschaard, derived from ors, “horse” or “mount”, and hard, “strong”. Sometimes the name is used to simply mean the devil.

The 1874 almanac of Blankenberge tells of the dreadful storm of 1791. It destroyed the hut of a suspected witch on the beach, and the inhabitants were overjoyed, smashing what little was left of the ruins. Then a spinechilling sound rang out over the dunes – “Roes, roes, roes!” A huge black dog with bells around its neck came running down the dunes, and the villagers scattered. That dog was Roeschaard.

Roeschaard puts his shapeshifting powers to use in performing cruel pranks. There is no limit to the forms he can take. He turns into a fish and allows himself to be caught before destroying the net. He gets into boats and tips them over. He pounces on people’s backs and rides them to exhaustion. In the form of a baby, he allows people to take him home before laughing wickedly and escaping, calling out “Roes, roes, roes!” behind him.

The sailors of Blankenberge eventually found a way to escape Roeschaard’s attentions. By giving themselves a second baptism and a new name, they would break Roeschaard’s power over them. The ceremony undertaken by new sailors involved being splashed with salt water while the following formula was intoned:

I baptize you, and may Roeschaard, the thrice-ugly one, turn away. Turn, turn, turn, your name is [here the requisite sea-name was given]

Thus if Roeschaard came to claim someone, they could simply tell him they were not the person he was looking for. Since then Roeschaard’s power has been in decline.

References

van Hageland, A. (1973) La Mer Magique. Marabout, Paris.

de Vries, A. (2007) Flanders: a cultural history. Oxford University Press, Oxford.

The Dingonek is a creature that lives in the Maggori River in Kenya, as well as in Lake Nyanza. Our primary source for the dingonek comes from big-game hunter John Alfred Jordan, as recorded by Edgar Beecher Bronson. As a tale told by one big-game hunter to another, there is no reason to believe there was any embellishment or exaggeration involved.

Legends of aquatic monsters predate Jordan’s account, but they describe a generic large water python. Clement Hill claimed to have seen one in Lake Nyanza that attempted to seize a man on the prow of his boat. It had a dark, roundish head.

The dingonek as described by Jordan is a cross between a sea serpent, a leopard, and a whale. It is fourteen or fifteen feet long. Its head is similar in shape and markings to that of a leopard, but is the size of a lioness’ head. There are two long white fangs protruding downwards from the upper jaw. The back is broad like that of a hippo, patterned and colored like a leopard, and “scaled like an armadillo”. The tail, used for aquatic propulsion, is broad and finned. When ashore, the dingonek leaves behind prints as wide as a hippo’s but with reptilian claw-marks.

A .303 shot behind the ear had no effect on the dingonek. It reared straight up out of the water, and Jordan ran for his life. The dingonek was not seen again.

Hobley tells of another man who swears he saw a dingonek. When the Mara River was in flood, the eyewitness said he saw a creature floating down the river on a big log. It had its tail in the water, but its length was estimated to be sixteen feet. It had scales, spots like a leopard, and a head like an otter, but no long fangs. When shot at, it slipped into the water and disappeared. Apart from the (surely inaccurate) length given, this is a good account of a Nile monitor lizard.

Finally, rock art from a cave in Brakfontein Ridge, South Africa, has been claimed to depict a walrus-like dingonek, but the location is far from the dingonek’s habitat, and the association is arbitrary.

Heuvelmans initially believed the dingonek to be an odd species of prehistoric crocodile. Later he revised this to create an aquatic saber-toothed cat whose wet fur clumped and gave the appearance of scales.

As armadillos are New World animals, modern reconstructions have assumed the armadillo “scales” to be those of a pangolin instead. Other recent additions include a single horn and a stinger tail, neither of which have any basis.

References

Bronson, E. B. (1910) In Closed Territory. A. C. McClurg & Co., Chicago.

Bryant, A. T. (1948) The Zulu People. Shuter and Shooter, Pietermaritzburg.

Conway, J.; Kosemen, C. M.; and Naish, D. (2013) Cryptozoologicon Vol. I. Irregular Books.

Heuvelmans, B.; Garnett, R. trans. (1958) On the Track of Unknown Animals. Rupert Hart-Davis, London.

Hobley, C. W. (1913) On Some Unidentified Beasts. The Journal of the East Africa and Uganda Natural History Society, III(6), pp. 48-52.

Oswald, F. (1915) Alone in the Sleeping-Sickness Country. Kegan Paul, Trench, Trubner & Co., London.

Stow, G. W. and Bleek, D. F. (1930) Rock-paintings in South Africa. Methuen & Co. Ltd., London.

Hmmm…

appears in joints like wooden buoys on a net rope

appears like a string of gallon kegs

diameter of a barrel

appears to be full of joints and resembles a string of buoys on a net rope, as is set in the water to catch herring

a string of water casks

There is a very simple logical conclusion that is not being made here…

The Sermilik, “ice-clad”, is an enormous and highly dangerous polar bear found in the seas around Aasiaat in Greenland. Unlike the bears it resembles, it has very long fur completely covered with ice. Four lumps of ice at the surface are in fact the four paws of a sermilik lying in wait, and young hunters are warned never to paddle near those.

References

Birket-Smith, K. (1924) Ethnography of the Egedesminde District. Bianco Lunos Bogtrykkeri, Copenhagen.

Variations: Jiuyu, Jiyu

The slopes of Exceedingly Lofty Mountain in China are home to the Chouyu. It is like a rabbit but has a bird’s beak, owl’s eyes, and the tail of a snake. It falls asleep (i.e. plays dead) when it sees people. If a chouyu is seen it is an omen of a locust plague.

Mathieu identifies this animal as the armadillo, but admits with impressive understatement that China is a bit far from the neotropics…

References

Mathieu, R. (1983) Étude sur la mythologie et l’ethnologie de la Chine ancienne. Collège de France, Paris.

Strassberg, R. E. (2002) A Chinese Bestiary: Strange Creatures from the Guideways Through Mountains and Seas. University of California Press.