‘Great excitement’ ensued throughout the Floridian town of Kissimmee in September 1900 when sightings of an entity referred to as a ‘wild-man’ started being reported. In fact, the situation became so bad that neither women nor children felt safe enough to venture outside – and men would only do so in groups. The ‘skulking’ figure was apparently first seen by the unfortunately unnamed wife of one Mr. Arthur Shiver, and so it is with her narrative that we shall start our chilling tale.
Shivers and Shakes[]
Mrs. Shiver lived (presumably with her husband) one mile away from the town of Kissimmee, and one day in the week preceding Friday the 28th of September, 1900, she caught sight of a strange figure lurking in the wilds near the house. She estimated that this figure stood approximately 4ft tall, and said that it didn’t seem to be wearing any clothes. Its red-skinned body was cloaked in short, shaggy black hair, while the ebony strands that hung from its head were much longer, going down to below its shoulders. There was something strange between its legs – it was holding a stick there in a manner similar to how one would hold a children’s hobby horse, with one end dragging along the ground behind it. The long arms with which it held the stick were described as ending in claw-like fingers.
Presumably baffled and terrified at the sight of the creature, which was walking in a crouched manner, Shiver called to her neighbours who had been staying with her – and they all immediately left to try and catch the creature. Mrs. Shiver’s daughter ran to try to cut it off at the garden fence, and suddenly found herself within just a few feet of the monster. The beast growled at her and shook the stick in aggression – before abruptly leaping into a nearby ditch and vanishing from sight. However, the posse was able to track it through the ditch and into a nearby swamp, where they once again caught sight of it crawling into a big cluster of palmettos. A further search was conducted but nothing was found of the appalling apeman. The critter’s footprint had, however, been captured on the hard bottom of the ditch. This print was approximately six inches long, and had a deep imprint where the ball of the foot would’ve been, along with a claw mark which demonstrated that the nail of the big toe was at least an inch in length. The other toes also protruded and left marks in the ground ‘like sharp claws’. The stick that the critter had been holding had seemingly also left its mark on the ditch, seeing as there was a distinct trail for it left in the hardened sand.
Next, sensing that there was potentially a very real possibility of catching what was assumed to be a ‘wild Indian’ – the townsfolk put three bloodhounds on the trail of the critter. Two of their number paid no attention to it whatsoever, while the other – an older hunting hound – seemed to suddenly become terrified, bristling up and refusing to follow the trail. Several other dogs were said to have picked up the monster’s trail at one point or another in the next week, but all would return to their owners after a short while in a state of terror, and were then unable to be persuaded to follow the trail further.
The final incident involving the creature took place at the house of one Bill Went near Canoe Creek (now a charming suburban neighbourhood). The monster advanced towards the house and seemingly attempted an attack on the building, whereupon Went met fire with fire and shot at the creature several times, ultimately driving it away. As it was shot at, it let out a ferocious roar of ‘great rage’. According to the Daily Leader of Davenport, Iowa published on September 28th of 1900, a search party was due to set out to hunt the beast once again – but no news came of it, seeing as further reports are evidently lacking.
Of course, with any report like this – one always has to question the veracity of the source. The fact that the tale was not reported in a Floridian newspaper is one red flag, as is the subtitle afforded to the article. It states that the monster’s roar makes people ‘shiver’ (a pun on the name of the primary witness) and that the ‘brand of whisky’ was ‘not stated’ – implying that whoever wrote the article in the paper was expecting the whole thing to turn out to be a publicity stunt. It seems, however, that this possible stunt never paid off…
Source[]
'The Historical Bigfoot' by Chad Arment