Almost 100 years before Newt Scamander published his Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, William T. Cox released his own field guide, Fearsome Creatures of the Lumberwoods. Published in 1910, this text offered sketches and descriptions of various critters of North American folklore.
In his preface, Cox lamented the rapid disappearance of the once-vast lumber regions, saying that stretches of forest that once seemed boundless were all but gone, along with some of the curious varmints that lived there. At the very least, he aimed to preserve some of the fascinating lumberjack-spotted animal stories.
One of the most intriguing creatures in the guide is the Squonk.
In the vast, dense hemlock forests of Pennsylvania, there exists a creature so rare that few outside the state have ever heard of it. This elusive beast, known as the Squonk, leads a life of sorrow and solitude.
The Squonk is a reclusive creature, preferring to venture out only during the twilight hours. Its appearance is a source of constant misery; its skin, loose and ill-fitting, is covered in warts and moles. This unfortunate visage fills the Squonk with such despair that it spends its life weeping. Squonks are slowest on moonlit nights as they try to avoid seeing their ugly appearance in any illuminated bodies of water. Those familiar with the creature describe it as the most melancholic being in existence.
Skilled hunters can trace a Squonk by following the trail of its tear stains, for it cries incessantly. When cornered with no hope of escape or when startled, the Squonk can dissolve itself completely into a pool of tears.
The best time to hunt for a Squonk is on cold, moonlit nights. The freezing temperatures cause its tears to flow more slowly, and the creature, reluctant to move in such conditions, can often be heard sobbing under the shelter of the dark hemlock trees. One man, J.P. Wentling, originally from Pennsylvania but now residing in St. Anthony Park, Minnesota, had a particularly memorable encounter with a Squonk near the town of Mont Alto.
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Wentling, intrigued by the stories of this sorrowful beast, set out on a frosty night with a plan. Mimicking the soft, mournful cries of the Squonk, he lured one into a sack. Satisfied with his clever capture, he began the journey home. However, as he walked, the sack suddenly grew lighter, and the sobbing ceased. Curiosity and disappointment prompted him to stop and inspect his catch.
Opening the sack, he found nothing but a puddle of tears and bubbles, the Squonk having dissolved itself in despair.
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Genesis made a song about this (“Squonk”) on their 1976 “Trick of the Tail” album.