My mother, who was raised in Virginia in the 40's & 50's, would tell the story of the day that her sister went missing. The family searched and searched for her, calling her name and frantically trying to find out where the little rag-a-muffin had gotten to, all to no avail.
Eventually, the little scamp turned up, unaware that anything was going on or that she was the source of all the commotion. After what I'm sure was much screaming and yelling and probably a smack or two, she informed the gathered family that she had spent the day under the house, playing in the crawlspace with "all the little worms".
My grandfather went under the house and found a nest of copperhead that had taken up residence. These of course are rattlesnakes, but you get the idea.
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