On their way to school next day children flocked together passing the haunt of the Bombat. Women expressed equal fear and men ventured forth fearful of encountering the creature.     It was described as having an immense head atop of a small but muscular body, covered with hair. Its arms appeared to be equipped with a web-like skin which answered the pursue of wings, giving the creature an ability to leap immense distances, while the wings flapped lifting its body clear off the earth.     At night when the awful shrieking at times mournful cries of the Bombat carried into every home of the village, the negroes living on Chicken Hill ran terrified into the village and many flocked into the Methodist church and prayed hysterically. [ *** Our apologies for rather predictable stereotyping and poor taste by the Bloomsburg Columbian. *** ]     Sarah Allston, wife of Omega Allston, a woodchopper, was more hysterical than the rest. She fled from the church down Main street and fell dead in front of the post office. Dr. Smith declared she had died from heart disease, but the villagers exclaimed that the evil hand of the Bombat had been raised against Sarah, and that any one so indicated by the monster would meet the same fate.     An hour later the fright of the villagers was intensified when word was brought in that the body of a dead man was found on the railroad tracks. The body has not yet been identified.

After a night of vigil, during which the Bombat continued to howl and shriek and moan, the men of Spring Valley met in Fisher’s bowling alley, but not a ball rolled, not even a high ball. Matters were too desperate, Charley Fisher allowed, to permit any sort of festivity.     “I tell you what we’ll do,” spoke up Tom Moore, throwing out his chest. “We’ll form a hunting party, arm ourselves to the teeth, and every man pledging himself to stand together, we’ll sally into the swamp to-morrow and hunt down that pesky critter.”     There were several present who declared as how it might be well to call for outside assistance and not go on tempting the devil, but when J. C. Gibbs, Harold Sheldon, Ross Youmans, Roswald Farrington, Walter Foley, Shep Small and Dink Davis volunteered to start the hunt, first thing next morning, the others fell into line.     During the remainder of the night followed a scurrying throughout the village for firearms, and cutlasses, and it came to pass that bright and early the band entered the swamp to hunt the terrifying bombat to the death.     Spring Valley awaited with hushed anxiety the result of the formidable dash of the brave men of the village into the heart of the bombat’s chosen fastness. Their search was in vain. From—The Columbian. (Bloomsburg, Pa.), 24 June 1909. Chronicling America: Historic American Newspapers. Lib. of Congress.