Akron Topics      April 1931

It happened at least fifty years ago, in the region just south of Akron, where the Tuscarawas flows. And we know a man who knows a man whose father vouches for the truth of the story.

The farmers of the district were much concerned. Livestock was disappearing. First a man missed some chickens. He suspected his dog until it too vanished. Down the road a farmer pondered the mystery of a vanished pig. Another man lost a pig and then a sheep. Farmer Brown was unable to find one of his cows. It began to look serious.

Every little while more live stock disappeared. Men and boys took to carrying guns. The district was on the watch for a dog run wild. Nerves were on edge, fingers on triggers, with the result that two perfectly harmless pups were shot down. But finally the wild dog supposition was scouted. The farmers began to eye one another with suspicion.

Once they began to distrust each other, ill feeling mounted quickly. One farmer made a surreptitious visit to the barns of his neighbor, in search of missing cattle. He found nothing, but his neighbor found him, and immediately returned the call. There was no longer any peace in the district.

The idea bore fruit. A committee was formed, which visited every farm, checking on live stock of all sorts. None of the missing stock was located. Evidently no one was stealing.

No mangled or torn bodies were found. And there was no regularity as to the time or place of the disappearances. Occasionally a few days would intervene; usually, the thefts were at about two weeks intervals.

One day, after the strange thefts had continued for some time, a boy wandered along the marshy banks of the Tuscarawas. It was a bright still day in midsummer, a cheerful, innocent sort of day. Probably he whistled and tossed sticks into the river. Then, far ahead of him, along the water's edge he saw a shudder run through the reeds.

He watched, interested. Evidently some animal was making arborous way through the marsh. And then he realized that no animal could be big enough to vibrate the reeds cover such a large area. Frightened, he towards home.

A few hundred yards farther away he turned for a second as he ran towering up from the reeds was a horrible something. It rose high above the grasses, and seemed to sway. He was unable to describe it more clearly. Terrified, he ran on.

Later, he found his father, and his father gathered other farmers. Finally most of the men of the district, armed with guns, slowly approached the spot: by the river. There was no shuddering of the reeds, no disturbance of any kind. After a pause, they all marched bravely into the marsh.

They found a swathe about two feet wide, extending clear to the water edge, where the reeds had been pressed flat to the wet ground. Lying in the path was a discarded snake skin. It was dried and shriveled, and the colors had faded. It was 62 feet long.

The snake was never seen. No more livestock disappeared. There was again peace along the Tuscarawas.

"Legend." Akron Topics April. 1932: 5. Akron-Summit County Library:
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