The Spook's Bestiary

by Joseph Delaney

  “Why do that?” I asked in a calm and reasonable voice. “What have I done to hurt you? Why don’t you just move on again and find somewhere more to your liking?”

  A deep, throbbing growl of displeasure filled the darkness, making the hairs on the back of my neck rise and goose pimples stand up on my arms. I sensed that I was in the presence of a very powerful boggart, one that had just informed me, in no uncertain terms, that it had no intention of following my advice. Despite the fact that most cat boggarts are benign, on rare occasions some have shown themselves to be malevolent; a few are very dangerous indeed. If provoked, they can kill, delivering a blow hard enough to shatter a skull or tear out a throat with one swift slash of their sharp claws.

  It was then that I had a sudden flash of inspiration. My master had told me that far to the south of the County, an old spook had once reached a comfortable accommodation with a boggart. In return for certain concessions, it had agreed to keep his house clean and tidy. So why didn’t I attempt to do the same?

  “Sounds like you don’t much want to move on again. Well, I can tell you, I don’t much want to move either, so we’ve reached a deadlock. We could fight it out until one of us is destroyed, but I think there’s a better way to settle this. You and I need to come to an arrangement. Life could be very comfortable for both of us,” I suggested. “Perhaps you could stay here and keep things tidy; also cook and clean for me. You’d never have to worry about being hunted and hounded by another spook, and on top of that I’d make sure you were well rewarded in other ways.”

  The boggart began to materialize again, taking the form of the large ginger tomcat. It glowed in the dark, and its fur was standing on end. Was it preparing to attack?

  I thrust my hands into my pockets and pulled out two handfuls of what I’d stored there: salt in my right hand, iron filings in my left. The boggart saw my intention and let out a warning growl.

  “Accept my offer or suffer the consequences!” I warned in reply.

  For a moment we faced each other. Then the boggart slowly faded away. I waited in the darkness for almost an hour, just in case it returned. Finally I went off to bed, tired and worried. I felt I should have reacted faster and slayed the creature there and then.

  But the following morning, there was a surprise waiting for me in the kitchen. A cozy fire was burning in the grate, and a hot meal was laid out on the table: bacon, eggs, and sausages, cooked to perfection. I ate with relish, but when I stood to leave the table, I heard a low angry growl. Thinking quickly, I realized my mistake and put it right immediately.

  “My compliments to the cook,” I said hastily. “That was just about the best breakfast I’ve ever tasted!”

  At once there came a deep purring from beneath the table and I felt a big cat rub itself against my ankles. So far, so good. This boggart certainly appreciated flattery!

  For a while things continued in the same way. Each morning an appetizing breakfast was waiting for me, and this was eventually extended to suppers as well. This continued—until, very gradually, things began to change and the quality of the cooking started to deteriorate. Some mornings the bacon would be burned or the eggs underdone. Then there came a time when no breakfast was waiting; that night, once again, I heard the sound of plates being smashed downstairs.

  By the time I reached the kitchen door, the sounds had stopped, but I could hear the scritch-scratching of the boggart’s sharp claws. I waited until there was silence, then, carrying a candle, finally entered that room. There, etched deeply into the wooden chopping block, were the words:

  Quickly I realized my folly. I had promised a reward but had failed to deliver. In that instant the candle blew out and the door slammed shut behind me. I was in grave danger.

  I had salt and iron in my pockets, but this was a powerful boggart that had chosen not to show itself, so I had no means of locating my target. I reached for the door handle, and as I began to turn it, I felt a tremendous blow to my head that knocked it back hard against the frame. Befuddled and in pain, I stumbled to my knees. Then came the sharp sting of claws being raked down my right cheek. I was close to panic and scrambled to my feet, my heart racing with fear.

  Somehow I managed to get the door open and stagger out of the room. There I looked in the mirror, examining the livid scratches on my face and listening to the smashing of crockery from the kitchen.

  With the pain burning my right cheek, a lump the size of an egg on my head, and a raging headache, I had the whole night to consider my folly. I had, of course, promised a reward but allowed it to slip from my mind. Now the need to fulfill that promise was urgent. So I thought things through very carefully and by morning had an idea of how to proceed.

  The following night I entered the kitchen with some trepidation and spoke to the invisible boggart.

  “Your reward shall be my garden!” I called out. “In addition to cooking, washing, cleaning, and tidying, you will also guard the house and garden, keeping at bay all threats and dangers.”

  The boggart growled at that, angered that I’d demanded more work from it by extending its duties to the garden. Quickly I continued explaining what its reward would be.

  “But in return for that, the garden shall also be your domain. With the exception of things bound within pits or chains, or my future apprentices, the blood of any creature found there after dark is yours to claim. But if the intruder is human, you must first give three warning howls. This is a pact between us, which will endure as long as this house has a roof!”

  No sooner had I spoken than a deep purring commenced. The boggart was happy and the bargain was sealed. I immediately called at every house in the village and the neighboring farms, warning all that the garden was patrolled by a dangerous boggart and they would enter at their peril. Soon afterward I set up a bell at the withy-trees crossroads so that those in need of help could summon me rather than approach the house.

  I have little fear that some innocent will ultimately fall victim to the boggart. Its warning growl can be heard for miles and is so loud and terrifying that any intruder would immediately flee. As for incursions by creatures of the dark, the boggart is strong enough to keep almost anything at bay.5

  STAGE 2: INTIMIDATION

  If negotiation fails, then an attempt should be made to intimidate the boggart by making its life in that location uncomfortable or even impossible. Salt and iron may be positioned strategically. Some boggarts take up residence in old thorn trees or store their power there. The tree may be chopped down or burned, thus forcing the creature to search for a new location. Note that intimidation can often prove to be the most dangerous technique of the four. For, while a spook is annoying the boggart in an attempt to drive it away, the entity is unpredictable and may suddenly resort to extreme violence.

  THE SAMLESBURY STONE CHUCKER

  Toward the end of my first year at Chipenden I had to deal with a very dangerous boggart. It had made its home close to the village of Samlesbury, near the River Ribble, and in less than a month had transformed itself from a hall knocker, content to rap on doors and walls, to a fully fledged stone chucker, which was proving a real threat to the lives of the villagers.

  For over a week stones had fallen on the village, breaking roof slates, chimney pots, and windows, terrorizing men, women, children, and animals. A stone chucker’s objective is simple: It wishes to drive everyone away from land that it considers to be its own exclusive territory. When it claims ownership of a village and surrounding farmland, it must be relocated urgently.

  My first task was to determine the location of its temporary home. This proved easy enough because, as usual, it was at the very center of the disruptions. On this occasion it had taken up residence in a cellar below the local tavern. I carried out the standard intimidation procedures, laying lines of salt and iron on the stairs, then mixing up a bone glue containing the same mixture and painting sections of the walls and doors with it.

  That proved successful, and the howl as the boggar
t left its home could be heard for miles. However, I’d not anticipated its violent reaction. By way of reprisal, it killed the landlord of the tavern. That morning he was found in the yard under a very large boulder. Only his head, hands, and feet were visible. Once the boulder had been rolled away, we had to scrape the rest of him up from the flags. The boggart had turned rogue, a murderer of human beings, and now had to be slayed—a process I carried out to the letter.

  I learned an important lesson from that unfortunate incident. Whenever I deal with a stone chucker, I now persuade everyone to leave the surrounding area until the job is completed successfully. Usually it just means finding a farmer and his family temporary accommodation, but if necessary I would evacuate a whole village.

  STAGE 3: BINDING

  To bind a boggart, a spook must first dig a pit and then coat the inside with salt and iron mixed into a bone glue. Next, a lid must be fashioned by a reliable stonemason, then hoisted into position directly above by a skilled rigger. To facilitate this, the mason attaches a hook to the top of the stone, which is later removed. After the underside of the stone has been coated with the mixture, a bait dish is filled with blood. This lures the boggart into the pit, at which point the stone is quickly lowered into position to bind it there.

  Below are the important stages of the process.

  1. Hire a master mason to cut and shape the stone lid of the pit, and a rigger and his mate to lower that stone safely into position. The tradesmen should have previous experience of binding boggarts. This is vital. Using inexperienced or unskilled labor has cost the lives of both spooks and apprentices.

  2. Dig the pit, which needs to be at least six feet deep and six feet square. This should be as close as possible to the roots of a mature tree and positioned beneath a branch from which the rigger can hang a block and tackle. The oak is the best choice because such trees are the most efficient at slowly draining the strength of an imprisoned boggart, making it less likely to escape. (Note: The pit should be nine feet deep for a ripper.)

  3. Mix the powdered cattle bone with water to make a thick glue. It is usual for the riggers to supply this and bring it to the location on their cart. When the mixture is sufficiently thick, add equal parts of iron filings and salt (half a standard sack in each case, also supplied by the riggers). Then stir thoroughly.

  4. Using a block and tackle, and utilizing a strong branch, the rigger must now position the stone cover over the pit.

  5. While this is being accomplished, use a brush to coat the inside of the pit with the glue mixture. This must be completed carefully, because to miss the tiniest spot would allow the boggart to escape.

  6. Once the stone is suspended over the pit, its underside should also be thoroughly coated with the mixture.

  7. Using a bait dish,6 the boggart must be lured into the pit with milk or blood, the latter being preferable. (Blood is vital when dealing with a ripper.)

  8. Once it has been lured into the pit, the rigger and his mate must quickly lower the stone lid into position. It is useful to have the mason also standing by to help with the positioning of the stone.

  9. With the stone safely in place, the boggart is artificially bound.

  BOGGART SIGNS

  Spooks use a system of signs to mark the position of boggarts. This is both a warning to other spooks and a record of what has been done.

  Gregory

  The sign above is typical of that found on the stone lid covering a boggart pit. The Greek letter beta indicates that a boggart is bound beneath the stone. The name (Gregory) tells who has carried out the binding. The rank 1 warns of the highest degree of danger (the ranks are graded from 1 to 10): a boggart of the first rank is very dangerous indeed and can kill without warning. The line sloping downward from right to left marks the boggart as having been artificially bound by a spook. More County spooks have died while attempting to bind boggarts than from any other cause. They are more prevalent here than anywhere else in the world.

  A mark may be placed above the letter beta to signify the type of boggart bound—for example, the Greek letter P (rho) for ripper.

  If the line slopes downward from left to right, the boggart is only naturally bound, probably as a result of some disturbance to the ley line that it has traveled to reach this place. In this case, the sign could be carved on a tree or scratched on a wall. A naturally bound boggart may break free at any time as a result of an earth tremor many miles distant.

  THE FATES OF MY APPRENTICES

  Being a spook is a dangerous business.7 Some apprentices have been unlucky or just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Paul Preston, for example, was diligent and hard working; I had never seen a neater or more thorough notebook. All the preparation and knowledge in the world, however, would not have saved him.

  Paul was gored by a goat boggart as we crossed a muddy field near Wheeton. It intended to drive us away, but by mischance it achieved solidity the moment it made contact with my apprentice. Its horns entered just below his ribs, the left one spearing upward to pierce the heart. Poor unlucky Paul died instantly.

  By contrast, some apprentices have brought misfortune upon themselves. I had taken to my bed with a severe fever and was forced to send my apprentice Billy Bradley out alone to bind a ripper, which is one of the most dangerous boggarts of all. I had trained the boy well and given him full instructions; he should have been able to complete the task successfully. What went wrong must be noted so that no future apprentice ever repeats his mistakes.

  Unfortunately, Billy was something of a daydreamer who never wrote up his notes with the thoroughness and detail required. To add to his lack of knowledge, there was a serious flaw in his character—that of impatience. The weather was bad, with wind and torrential rain, and Billy tried to complete the task too quickly. He lined the pit with salt and iron and managed to lower the bait dish in successfully, but he had already made one mistake that was to prove fatal.

  Rather than hiring the very necessary experienced riggers, he had employed local laborers who lacked the necessary knowledge and skills. A block and tackle is the best device for positioning the stone; it uses a system of metal chains to lower the lid slowly and precisely. But you have to know what you’re doing, and these men didn’t. The stone trapped Billy’s left hand, and before it could be released, the boggart bit his fingers off at the second knuckles and started to suck his blood. In the five minutes following this unfortunate incident, panic and sheer incompetence turned a retrievable situation into a tragedy.

  The boy was screaming with pain, contributing to the terror and confusion. And whereas skilled riggers would have lifted the stone from Billy’s hand in mere seconds, the hired laborers panicked. The stone was hoisted unevenly. The far side rose slightly and the chain jammed. The edge that had trapped Billy’s hand pressed down on it even harder. By the time they managed to drag him free, the damage was done. The boy was unconscious and within moments stopped breathing. The shock and severe loss of blood had resulted in his death.

  Billy had also made a second mistake. Being impatient, he’d failed to wait for the mason to return from his supper at a local tavern. Not only do masons cut and shape stone expertly; when working with riggers they are also skillful at positioning the lid of a boggart pit. The presence of the mason might just have saved Billy’s life.8

  STAGE 4: SLAYING

  Finally, when all else fails, a boggart must be slain by casting salt and iron at it. It is important to get the timing right. Both substances must be hurled in such a way that they come together at exactly the same moment and envelop the boggart in a lethal cloud. Again, this takes a great deal of practice. Very powerful boggarts who can remain invisible even to spooks are particularly difficult to deal with. They may be located only by the sounds they make and the direction from which objects are thrown. But as they get weaker and expend their energy, they gradually become visible. Stone chuckers are the worst of these to deal with.9

  The method when dealing with a stone chuc
ker is as follows:

  1. Stir salt and iron into a bone glue.

  2. If it is necessary to drive it away from human habitation, daub the mixture in all the places the boggart frequents. This stops it from taking refuge there.

  3. Locate its true home. This is often a hollow tree. Stone chuckers prefer thorn trees.

  4. Chop down the tree and burn the roots. The creature has stored its power there, and by denying it that, you will make it less dangerous. Now angry and aggressive, it will seek out the one responsible for its woes.

  5. Finally, present yourself as a target for the boggart. It will waste the last of its strength in trying to hurt you. It is best to do this outdoors, somewhere where there are few materials at hand. Even so, accept that you will suffer at least a few cuts and bruises.

  6. When the boggart’s strength is almost spent, lead it indoors, where the materials can’t be dissipated by the wind. Use salt and iron to finish it off. Make sure to take aim with care. You will only get one chance!

  Not all boggarts are as difficult to slay as a stone chucker. The secret is to be crafty and try to get close to your target.

  THE COCKERHAM BOGGART

  I arrived at Cockerham just after dark one evening, summoned there by the village schoolteacher, who met me at the churchyard gate.

  “Thank goodness you got my message,” he said. “You’re only just in time.”

  Then he led me away from the church, down a narrow cobbled path between two overhanging buildings until we reached his cottage.

  He was a typical village teacher, with bad dandruff and glasses with lenses so thick they gave him the appearance of a barn owl. He was also very tall and thin and bent forward from the waist. The wind could have blown him over at any moment—it was gusting hard, bending the branches of the sycamores and rattling the slates on the roofs. What caught my eye first, however, were his hands, which were large and bony, with long thin fingers. They were shaking so much that he had to try three times before he could insert his key into the lock. It was cold, but not that cold, so he was clearly terrified. Once inside, he offered me some potato soup, but I told him that I always fasted before spook’s business.