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No matter how interesting it may be to speculate on the origin of these ancient beliefs, the opportunity to observe folklore in the making is even more attractive. When modern rumors fall into the very same patterns that have puzzled generations of scientists, theologians, and literary scholars, the feeling one gets is a mixture of wonder and delight. When the phone rings in Wright Patterson Air Force Base and a local intelligence office transmits the observation of a motorist who 1 ‘ toad 1 " 1 1 c a ta ca 1 has just seen what he describes as a flying saucer with strange hairy dwarfs on the side of the road, we are witnessing the unique conjunction of the modern world — with its technology — and ancient terrors with all the power of their sudden, fugitive, irrational nature. We are in a very priveleged position. Neither Evans-Wentz nor Hartland was able to interview people who had just observed the phenomena they studied. Most of their witnesses spoke of days gone by, of stories heard by the fireplace. In contrast, we feel that we can almost reach out into the night and grab those lurking entities. We are hot on their trail; the air is still vibrating with excitement, the smell of sulphur is still there when the story is recorded. Take, for instance, the story of the Air Force colonel who was driving at night on a lonely Illinois road when he noticed a strange object was flying above his car. It looked, he said, like a bird, but it was the size of a small airplane. It flapped its wings and flew away. This is the type of horror story adolescents sometimes tell when they come home late and a bit nervous. But an Air Force colonel? During November and December, 1966, West Virginia was plagued by a similar "bird," called "the Mothman" by imaginative reporters. One witness, twenty-five-year-old Thomas Ury, who lives in Clarksburg, met the creature at 7:15 A.M., on November 25, 1966, in the vicinity of Point Pleasant. It was a large gray thing that rose from a nearby field. "It came up like a helicopter and veered over my car," Ury told American researcher John Keel, a dedicated investigator who spent many days in the area analyzing the reports. Ury accelerated up to 75 m.p.h., but the "bird" was still there, casually circling the car. It appeared to be about six feet long, with a wingspread of eight to ten feet. According to other witnesses quoted by Keel, the figure had large, round, glowing red eyes. On January 11, 1967, Mrs. McDaniel saw the "Bird" herself in broad daylight. She was outside her home when she observed what appeared to be a small plane flying down the road almost at tree-top level. As it drew close she realized it was a man-shaped object with wings. It swooped low over her head and circled a nearby restaurant before going out of sight. The intruder was tall, thin and powerful. He had a prominent nose, and bony fingers of immense power which resembled claws. He was incredibly agile. He wore a long, flowing cloak, of the sort affected by opera-goers, soldiers and strolling actors. On his head was a tall, metallic-seeming helmet. Beneath the cloak were close-fitting garments of some glittering material like oilskin or metal mesh. There was a lamp strapped to his chest. Oddest of all: the creature's ears were cropped or pointed like those of an animal. Was it a prankster in Batman dress? It seems entirely possible, especially when we take into account the fact that the "bird" was carrying something on its back and made incredible leaps — actually flying on one occasion. There is only one trouble with this explanation: the latter episode took place not in West Virginia in 1966 but in the dark lanes of a London suburb in November 1837. Like the Mothman of Point Pleasant, the mysterious flying man of London was ignored by authorities as long as possible. Finally, a resident of Peckham wrote a letter to the Lord Mayor, and the censorship could no longer be maintained. Nightly, horse patrols searched the countryside; Admiral Codrington set up a reward fund (still unclaimed, by the way). And J. Vyner, in a remarkable article about the mystery, informs us that even "The old Duke of Wellington himself set holsters at his saddle bow Folklore in the Making Mrs. McDaniel is known in the community as a rational and responsible person. Re ta Now consider this report: