THE SQUONK

The squonk is a rare and melancholy creature said to inhabit only the hemlock forests of Pennsylvania, and few beyond that state have even heard its name. It is timid by nature, venturing out mainly at dusk, and is burdened with a loose, ill-fitting hide covered in warts and moles that make it perpetually miserable. Constantly weeping, it leaves behind a trail of tears that skilled hunters can follow, though when cornered or terrified it may dissolve entirely into a puddle of tears and bubbles. The best chance of finding one is on frosty moonlit nights, when the squonk is reluctant to move and its sobbing can sometimes be heard beneath the dark branches. One such hunter, J. P. Wentling, formerly of Pennsylvania, claimed to have lured a squonk near Mont Alto by imitating its call and coaxing it into a sack. But as he carried his prize away the sack grew suddenly lighter, and when he opened it he found nothing left but tears glistening at the bottom.