Winifred
AKA: the Rivesville River Monster In the late 17th century, an adventurous man named William lived alone in a poorly constructed cabin that was built snugly in the mountainous wilderness. He trapped animals for their fur, bringing them to distant towns in exchange for goods, and showed explorers easier paths to traverse these undocumented lands. A large lake filled with catfish sat next to his abode, which he developed a taste for. One night, as he was out in the water, he felt a mighty tug on his line-a pull so strong, he doubted it was a fish at all! Suddenly, a snake-like creature jumped from the water, its sinewy form swirling, sparkling in the moonlight; with a great splash, it disappeared under the surface. His line broken, he stood on the bank in awe. Night after night, William fished off the banks with no success at seeing the large beast a second time. After several weeks passed, he began throwing leftover food and fish innards in the shallows, sitting and watching; every morning when he returned, his offering was gone, “likely eaten by other animals”, he thought. One late evening, as William was preparing a line to cast, he saw a reddish-brown head poking from the water, observing him. Slowly, the man approached the lake, grabbing a few rotten morsels of food he’d planned to leave that night. He gently placed them in the shallows, pushing them towards the animal’s snout. It gulped them down quickly, remaining above the surface. William slowly approached the creature, reaching a hand out, and touching its exposed neck. The creature moved slightly, but seemed unperturbed, as the human did not appear to intend to harm it. William petted the animal and gave it another bite of food; he named it Winifred. Though he could kill such a creature for much money, he couldn’t bring himself to poach such a wondrous beast. Each night, William would bring Winifred bits of food, watch the creature, and pet its rough scales. One night, as it began to swim into the deeper part of the lake, he grabbed onto its side, hanging on as it slithered through the water. Winifred didn’t seem to mind. The pair grew trusting of one another, William even learning to ride the beast like a horse, though several times he was flung off, grabbing a breath at the surface. During the winter, William maintained visiting his aquatic pet, feeding it leftover game, but refrained from joining it in the cold waters. He saw less and less of the animal as the water froze over; he looked forward to spring, hoping to show his new wife the ‘aquatic steed.’ However, when the ice thawed, Winifred remained unseen. He grew worried about his pet’s well-being, thinking it must have died over the winter. He felt relieved, though saddened, when he saw slithering, snaking paths divulging from the lake, through the mud, and into the forest. Winifred was alive, yet gone, off on some mysterious journey. None believed William or his tale of the beautiful “waterhorse”, though he shared it with all who would listen. He hoped someday the animal would return to the lake, but knew deep down that it never would. Throughout Appalachia, a serpentine beast traverses the waters-appearing in lakes, rivers, creeks, and ponds, but never remaining in one place for long. The Waterhorse is a sinewy fish with a catfish-like face; it can grow up to 20 ft in length and 500 lbs. The creature’s scales are reddish-brown with dark green stripes and spots; its fins are reddish-brown or dark blue. It has three nasal barbels and two mental barbels, as well as seven different types of fins; on its face, there are warts or areas marked by round, bulbous flesh, especially under the eye and on the edge of the mouth, giving the beast a strange profile. Its eyes are yellow or green, with round pupils and a dark green stripe cutting down the middle of its eye scales. Appalachian Waterhorse’s tailfins are frilly on the edges and decorated with thin, horizontal dashes. Males and females are physically distinguishable by stripe patterning on the body: females have stripes on both halves of the body, while males only display striping on the bottom half of the body. The creatures live for five years at most. The most unique aspect of an Appalachian Waterhorse is that the lower half of their body contains a large organ that inflates with air, allowing it to tread on land for extended periods. The air bladder is also used for depth control; it can be slightly inflated to move upwards, or deflated to sink without utilizing its fins in deep water. For the most part, the creatures force water through their gills to breathe underwater; before beginning a land expedition, they will use a second pair of gills in the middle of their bodies to store oxygen in their air bladder. Appalachian Waterhorses are seen in Pennsylvania, West Virginia, and Ohio within the Alleghany, Ohio, and Monongahela Rivers. In times of drought or low food supply, the animal ventures onto land in search of better waters. When dry, its fins harden and stored water secretes from pores on the creature’s underside, making the ground beneath it muddy and easier to navigate. Some fins dig into the ground, while others balance or hold it upright; using its muscles, the animal pulls itself across the earth, its head bobbing up and down, body swirling, lurching, sliding forward. If the Waterhorse does not find water sources within four days, their body dries, fins and muscles stiffen, and they slowly shrivel up, dying of suffocation; along the way, it rehydrates in creeks and puddles until a sustainable source is found. 1 They most actively travel after sunset on land, or early in the morning. Appalachian Waterhorses feed by filtering food - catching micro-organisms, small, aquatic animals, and minuscule vegetation in its maw; this is done by the animal taking a gulp of water, closing its mouth, and expelling it through the gills, trapping food between bristly, gill bars and swallowing it. Waterhorses also pull up plants from river/lake beds, swallowing them in chunks, as well as opportunistically plucking aquatic invertebrates from the water’s surface or the banks. A Winifred rests by drifting in deep water; other times, they warm themselves on the surface, only partially submerged, their scales shimmering in the sunlight. The creatures appear to be curious of boats; they are frequently spotted swimming near them, or slapping their tail against or beside them in the water. The animals are most active on sunny days, warm evenings, or late at night. During winter, Appalachian Waterhorses sink to the bottom, their bodily processes slowing down (you can read more about “winter rest” at the National Ocean Service 2). Females lay eggs each year as soon as the winter ice thaws. As they travel to suitable locations within deep, calm water, they leave behind their scent in hopes of attracting a male. The Waterhorse lays up to 300 eggs at the bottom of a lake or pond, before marking the edges of the water with her scent. Eggs are sticky, attaching themselves to rocks, plants, or the ground; they are green with brown centers, no larger than an inch each, and can live up to three months before spoiling, if not fertilized. An Appalachian Waterhorse’s eggs have a strong, foul stench and bitter flavor that is repulsive to several kinds of fish, protecting them from many forms of predation. Once fertilized, it takes the embryos four months to develop enough to hatch. Once they have emerged from the encasing, they appear as tiny, dark green snakes - quickly slithering throughout the water. It takes 15 months for them to reach maturity. Many of these youths are eaten by fish, turtles, snakes, birds, or other predators.