There’s an urban legend in Venezuela surrounding “El Silbón” (The Whistler), a figure known in the wetland fields and prairies areas called “Llanos.” The Whistler is typically depicted as an extremely starved man wearing cowpoke’s clothes, with a wide overflow cap that shrouds his skeletal face. He wanders the wide open and fixes of shrubbery during the evening, his shoulders hanging, his look cast descending. He conveys an overwhelming pack loaded with bones and half-deteriorated stays over his back.
Consistent with his name, the element ceaselessly shrieks a high harmony movement (C-D-E-F-G-A-B-C) that runs higher tuned in to each note. He is likewise unnaturally tall and solid, with a few records portraying him as overshadowing six meters (just about 20 feet) in tallness.
His inception isn’t clear, with a few stories giving him a role as a detestable parricide. He’s reputed to go after solitary voyagers, particularly alcoholic or unfaithful men. Legend has it, his foreboding shriek is all of a sudden heard uproarious and close, yet the source can’t be pinpointed. In spite of rationale, when the sound brings down and seems more inaccessible, the Whistler is exceptionally close. He slaughters either by choking or by dull power injury, eating up his unfortunate casualties and tossing the bones in his sack. He can be seen sometimes swimming over the high dividers of haciendas. Supplication is said to keep him away.