Deep in the Zmutt Valley, half an hour beyond Schönbiel, the Arberg rises like a dark fortress of rock. Once, massive herds of sheep sought shelter there behind the natural bars of stone. But the old shepherds tell of a day when the protection of the mountain failed.

It began with a scream that froze the blood in the veins – not the call of an animal, but a sound of pure despair. When the men rushed in with clubs and spears, a sight met them that staggered their minds. In the midst of the panicked herd raged not merely a bear, but a monster from another world.

It was a colossus, blacker than the starless night, whose outlines seemed to flicker in the twilight as if it consisted of smoke and shadow. Its paws were as large as millstones, and from its wide-open maw came a growl that echoed like thunder from the underworld. But the most terrible thing was its eyes – they glowed with an unnatural red and looked about with a terrifying, almost human malice.
The weapons of the men trembled in their hands; against such a spawn of hell, any resistance seemed futile. In this moment of paralyzing fear, a farmer took heart. He realized that violence would only further ignite this being. He grabbed a struggling lamb, stepped before the foaming silhouette of the monster, and hurled the sacrificial animal toward it.