Outmatched by the intruder, the watchman ran for the precarious safety of the guardhouse, from which he did not emerge until the following day, when Enrique Rueda, the site's supervising engineer, found the watchman cowering inside. We can only assume that Rueda listened dispassionately to Padrón's account of the events, wondering how much pulque - fermented maguey juice - the man had consumed before passing out. But any doubts in the engineer's mind were dispelled when he saw footprints not far from the guardhouse.
When measured, the indentations on the sandy ground measured slightly over twelve inches across and were six inches deep - requiring a force estimated at nearly six hundred pounds to create, by Rueda's reckoning.
With the possible exception of the repeated sightings of West Virginia's Mothman, events of this kind appear to be a one-off event: the witnesses see the entity once and never again. But night watchman José Padrón was to have the dubious pleasure of a repeat visit from the winged humanoid on the following night...and on this occasion, it brought a friend.
Stifling his panic, Padrón took a long, hard look at the entities, which left numerous footprints behind as they made their way around the construction site, in search of food, building materials for an unimaginable eyrie in the mountains, who knows. But the initial winged creature and his mate eventually flew into the darkness, heading toward the San Miguelito Mountains. Padrón was able to add an extra detail that perhaps dovetailed with engineer Rueda's calculations of the creature's weight: the ground shook as the creatures took off from the premises. Other evidence suggested that a mesquite branch had been snapped in two as one of the creatures flew by, no small feat considering the strength of the tree. No samples of hair or feathers were in evidence, either.
Prudently, the supervising engineer ordered that the night watch be increased to twelve unarmed men.
Hector Urdiales, a member of Mexico's Cosmos A.C. paranormal research foundation, decided to lead an investigation on Easter Week, 1984 to a seldom-visited area located behind Monterrey's Cerro de la Silla, an enormous, irregular-shaped hill dominating the city. Stories of a monstrous winged being prowling the area had come to Urdiales' attention. Accompanied by a friend, the explorer stopped at a roadside general store on the road to San Roque, N.L. where he interviewed the owner, who was among the many witnesses to the creature. They followed his indications as to where to camp and mount their watch.
Nothing unusual happened during their first day and night on in the area. On the following morning, while combing the banks of a stream running through a copse of savins, Urdiales and his companion made a chilling discovery.
The grass at the base of one of the trees by the stream was covered in the fly-covered blood and entrails of an unknown animal. Closer inspection revealed that the savin's entire trunk was streaming with blood flowing from above. Hesitantly they followed the trail of blood with their eyes until they came upon a surreal sight: some twenty feet off the ground, a large boar had been split open and spitted to a tree limb. Fear washed over the researchers, since they realized that the tall savin lacked the strong lower limbs which would have assisted a human to deliver the grisly cargo to such a dizzying height; nor could their minds conjure up any feline predator strong enough to drag a two-hundred pound boar up a cactus. Only a carnivorous winged predator having the wingspan and talons needed to attack that kind of prey could have possibly been responsible for the carnage.
On July 20, 1994, a farm worker at Rancho El Sabino in Monterrey was heading back to his house to have lunch at around eleven o'clock in the morning. As he walked past a nearby graveyard, the farm worker noticed something emerge from a another footpath at a distance of some hundred feet: as he got closer, he realized that he was looking at a half-human, half-avian creature which seemed indifferent to the startled human's presence. The creature continued to walk, chicken-like, down the footpath until it reached a crossroads. The birdman then flexed its enormous wings and turned down another path. By the time the farm-worker reached the same intersection, the aberrant figure was now half a mile ahead of him until he lost it from sight altogether.
Mexican UFO researcher and author Luis Ramírez Reyes makes the following statement in his book Contacto:Mexico (Diana, 1996): "When I learned that Norma Bancroft-Hunt' book Les peuples du Totem presents a sculpture of the conmemorative image of an Owlman--known as Tlingkit among the Yakutat--which according to legend, lived until its death in Icy Bay in 1890 due to a fall from a tree. Its body was never found, since it was devoured by crows, but a totem pole was subsequently carved out of the tree from which it fell. The image reminded me of the gigantic owl which appeared before me as a young man when I lived with my family in the city of Chihuahua in the early Sixties. It gave me such a fright that I ran and hid in my bedroom [...]. Most impressive of all was its size, which was approximately 1.50 meters (5 ft.) tall." Again, we see Chihuahua mentioned as a place where such unusual occurrences appear to be common.
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