Residents in the South of England woke up the morning of February 9, 1855, to a winter wonderland. A storm the night before had dumped snow over the countryside. But people started to see something different in the snow, something that didn't belong. Footprints. It wasn't only the type of footprint that was confusing, it was where they were. The prints crossed snowy fields, wandered up to doorsteps, traveled over haystacks and even ended up on roofs. Were they the prints of some sly animal out for an evening in the blustery weather, or were they the work of something more sinister?
