myth

by

English Folklore: The Ghostly Yellow Hound of Longdendale

Ghostly Yellow Hound – AI Image – zteve t evans

Betwixt and Between

There are places in England and other places where encounters with strange beings occur now and then. Such places have a liminal quality existing betwixt and between what we know – the familiar and the unfamiliar – the homely and the unhomely. At times, in such places, the borders can be passed, and a flow between two worlds exists and intertwines briefly in some strange, inexplicable way. In places like this, we have strange experiences and encounters that are unfathomable, and we find ourselves face-to-face with beings that do not belong in our world.

One such liminal place can be found in Longdendale Valley in the Peak District of England (1). The area is known for many unexplained and strange phenomena that sometimes appear. These include weird lights, ghostly and supernatural events, encounters, and even unidentified flying objects. The lights have been unconvincingly explained as a natural phenomenon known as earth lights, but these usually manifest just before or during a powerful earthquake. Their cause is unknown, and the explanation does not seem to fit the seismic record of the area. Furthermore, Longdendale is the setting of many strange supernatural tales and legends, and one of those, “The Spectre Hound,” is retold here from a collection called “Legends of Longdendale” by Thomas C. Middleton.

The Spectre Hound

The alleged events centred around a small, picturesque cottage with a well-kept and attractive garden in Godley Green. The inhabitants made a living from farming and weaving. Eventually, it was demolished in the late 19th century, and a handsome new residence was built. A local legend tells of a spectral hound that many people alleged to have seen that haunted the old building and the farm estate. A part of this legend tells that the occupants of the former cottage had all been murdered in some gruesome and unknown fashion. According to local gossip spoken only in whispers, the demolition of the cottage was an attempt to purge the dreadful crime of the past.

Ever since that terrible event, the surrounding neighbourhood has been haunted by some unquiet spirit that took the form of a massive and unworldly yellow ghost dog. Some folks think that whatever evil or unspeakable act that took the lives of those victims became energised and manifested in the form of this ghastly spectral hound. Other folk speculate it resulted from a curse by one of the victims or a punishment from Heaven. Another theory is that it just a beast that crossed over from the otherworld to wander for a short time in the countryside around Godley Green. However, whatever its origin, this strange and awful phantom exuded an unsettling aura of repugnance, causing those who encountered it to shrink away.

The Blood-Stained Stone

Many of the older people of the area who had visited the cottage remembered that the dwelling had a layer of flagstones for a floor. One flagstone stood out as unique because it bore blood stains. No amount of water, soap or hard scrubbing could remove that stain. What became of that stone after the cottage was demolished is not known.

According to tradition, many local people encountered this ghost hound. It was seen at times in the distance and near at hand. Reports alleged it to be far larger than any known canine breed. Its sheer size made it a formidable and best avoided. It has been encountered close hand by lone travellers traversing the dark lanes or seen in the distance racing across the fields. Encounters seem to occur more often at twilight—that liminal time between day and night—though it has been seen in both day and night going about its strange and ghastly business.

There is no doubt the hound – if it was a hound – had a frightening and dangerous aspect, though it does not seem to have ever hurt anyone. Those who have encountered it report a sinister aura of otherworldliness. There was something about it that was unsettling, something unnatural – repugnant. It was not so much for its ferocity it was feared, but the dreadful, baneful feeling that it exuded. Those who had encountered it reported that they sensed it before they saw it.

Farmers have been awakened at night by the sound of their livestock and the ghastly baying of the hound. On investigation, they told how the hound chased the frightened animals around their field with its red eyes ablaze. It did not attack—just chased the terrified beasts—as if it was savouring its power over them.

Encounters by Children

There were many reports or encounters from children returning home from school, especially on late winter afternoons. They would feel its presence first. Then it would appear around some sharp corner sat in the lane, staring at them through baleful glowing eyes, its tongue lolling from its maw. It would stay for just a few minutes, the children daring not to move, before getting up and simply vanishing as it walked towards them. The children would run home crying and frightened out of their wits to the safety of their parents.

A Strange Foreboding

Many young courting couples, as they roamed the quiet lanes, seeking a solitary spot to lavish their affections on one another would find an experience they were not looking for. They would feel its presence first, a strange feeling of foreboding that crept icily up the spine. Sometimes, the spectral yellow dog would trot down the lane to meet them before vanishing a few feet before them, its hideous eyes lit from some inner ghastly red light.

At other times, when they experienced that repellent feeling, they would quickly glance around to see the hound following quietly behind. It was more the loathly feeling the hound exuded that frightened them than any action by the beast. After such encounters, many stopped going out at twilight, hoping to avoid another unsettling meeting.

The Farmer’s Daughter

A farmer’s daughter driving her horse and cart home passed the demolished cottage when her horse suddenly stopped and began trembling in fear. She also began to experience an awful fear and feeling of revulsion. To her shock and horror, the hideous hound appeared, leaping over a hedge and into the lane. It stood before the quivering horse, staring balefully past it at her. She estimated its size was more than half that of the horse, and the encounter lasted for a few dread-filled minutes. The incident ended abruptly when the animal turned and raced down the lane to a nearby well, which it leapt into and disappeared.

The terrified woman forced herself to get down from the cart and gently led her trembling horse home. On reaching home, she asked her father about the awful apparition she had seen. With a shrug of resignation, he merely shook his head and replied, “So, now you have seen the yellow hound!”

“What is it – where is it from?” she asked.

“Maybe there will come a time when I can tell you, but that time is not now. I can tell you that having seen it once, you will see it again,” her father enigmatically said while shaking his head.

Her Father’s Encounter

A few days later, just after dark, her father arrived home and sat by the fire. By his countenance, his daughter could tell something had upset him and, taking a chair, sat down beside him. She said nothing, allowing him to find himself, and then he quietly said,

“Just a little while ago, as I passed the old well, I had a terrible feeling I was being watched. It was a ghastly feeling of fear and repulsion, and I became on edge. As I gazed around, I saw it – the ghastly yellow hound. It sat on the edge of the well, staring intensely into its water. Now and then, it looked up and around, and I could see its red eyes and foam dripping from its mouth like some wild and rabid thing.

It was fearful to behold, but it was not the fear that was so awful. There was a terrible feeling of disgust – of something that did not belong. It turned its head towards me, and its gaze fell upon me. I was shocked by its raw power. Magnets attract one another from opposite poles, but this is like the force of the same poles, which push each other away with a force that can be felt. It was unnatural and unsettling – an experience outside the laws of nature.”

The old man shrugged and replied quietly, “I will not speak of it!”

The Daughter’s Second Encounter

As her father had predicted, she saw the beast again and managed a better look. She felt its presence first, then saw the huge yellow dog, but it was unquestionably spectral rather than earthly. The truly unsettling aspect of the apparition was the feeling of fear and sickening revulsion it exuded. It was this feeling that stayed with her after that. It turned its head, and as its gaze fell upon her, it faded and vanished. Released from its dreadful gaze with a feeling of relief and of being set free, she walked quickly home.

A Lady’s Childhood Encounter

The Spectral Hound of Longdendale – AI Image – zteve t evans

On several occasions, the strange apparition appeared to another lady when she was a child. She gives the following account:

“On the first encounter with the beast, I was a child accompanied by an aunt taking the air in the country lanes. I sensed it first – an awful feeling of unnaturalness that is difficult to describe – and then I saw it.

I was startled and upset by the unhomeliness of its aura but not too frightened. It walked along by our side, keeping pace with us. It did not threaten us, but I wanted to throw a stone at it because of that terrible feeling and bent to pick one up.

My aunt stopped me immediately, telling me sternly not to threaten it in any way. She said we should ignore it and keep walking. It looked formidable and capable of savagery if aroused or provoked, so I obeyed.

As we walked, she whispered, ‘It is the ghost hound, and we must continue on our way without provoking it and hope it leaves us alone!’ It followed a short distance, but when I next glanced sideways to see if it remained, to my relief, it was gone.

Since that first time, I have seen it several times. They say it does not appear to everyone but will reappear at intervals throughout that person’s life once seen for the first time. I do not wish to see it again but fear it is only a matter of time.”

Another Lady’s Encounter

A lady staying at a nearby farm between 1890 and 1900 gave the following account:

“I first saw it as a girl while staying at the farm owned by my relatives one evening when I went down to fetch water from the well. It was a cold, wintry evening, and a thick ice sheet covered the pool near the well. I first filled the buckets with water from the well, which had been covered to prevent it from freezing.

I thought I would have some fun sliding on the ice a few times. Setting the buckets down, I ran towards the frozen pool at some speed, intending to slide from the near side to the far side.

As I began my run, I noticed a strange feeling creeping over me. Standing by the frozen pool before me, I saw some odious beast standing in my path, staring at me. I stopped dead in my tracks, fearing to move.

In the fading light, I could see it was an animal the size and form of a huge dog. I stood dead still, not daring to move. Its terrible red eyes gazed upon me, growing to the size of saucers and glowing like hot coals.

To appear less threatening, I lowered my head to see its great yellow paws if it moved. I dare not look it directly in the eye. I would say it was about the size and yellowish colour of a lion, and I thought maybe one had escaped from a nearby zoo or menagerie.

It moved menacingly towards me, and I slowly backed away. It leapt at me and vanished in the air as I fell backwards. I was terrified but was not hurt.

Looking around, I saw it had appeared again and was standing studying me. Slowly and calmly, I got up, and knowing I could never outrun the beast, I picked up the pails of water, thinking it might not like cold water over it should it attack.

I backed away, but it remained where it stood, and I made the house without further incident. I will never forget the experience, and since then, I have seen it on several other occasions.”

A Fishmonger’s Encounter

A fishmonger from nearby Hyde who made weekly deliveries around the locality told of a strange experience in the Godley Green area. He claimed he encountered a spectral hound the size of a cow that exuded a yellowish hue or aura. As he walked down a lane, he suddenly felt strange and unsettled. Looking to his side, he saw the beast walking beside him, matching his pace. If he stopped, the beast stopped. If he ran, it ran. Whatever he did, it maintained the same position at his side. Feeling fearful, he struck it with his basket, but it passed clean. He kicked out, but his foot passed through it. It appeared further up the road and ran at him, vanishing a few feet before him to reappear behind him and continue running down the road. It then turned and ran back at him, repeating the same action.The fishmonger, still carrying his basket, ran the opposite way as fast as he could. Though the spectral beast could easily have outpaced him, it did not appear again, much to his relief.

A few days later, the farmer he had been on his way to visit came into his shop and asked why he had not made his usual delivery of fish. The fishmonger told him his tale, and after listening, the farmer told him that he and his family often saw the apparition, as did others in the area. The fishmonger told the farmer that if he wanted fish in the future, he would have to collect it from his shop. He told him that although he had not been attacked or hurt, it was the dreadful air and feeling the spectre exuded that he did not want to experience again. On hearing the tale, other customers in the shop suggested to the fishmonger that he had seen nothing more than a stray cow wandering the roads. He replied that he had never seen a cow that his boot and basket could pass through, adding that cow or hound he did not want to see it again.

Punishment, Unquiet Spirit, or Otherworldly Entity

These are just a few of the experiences of those who have encountered the frightful spectre. Legend says that the ghastly ghost dog must haunt the lanes and fields around the demolished cottage until the crime committed is atoned for and justice is done. Either the murderer’s soul who must wander in hound form until he atones for his crime, or the spectral dog is one of the victims whose unquiet spirit took this form to roam the world, seeking out the murderer to wreak vengeance upon him.

Another explanation is that the valley of Longdendale is a strange place where the borders between this world and another are permeable, at least at times. For unknown reasons, entities from this otherworld occasionally cross over, and humans happen upon them, and because they carry the distinctive aspects of their own realm, we find their differences disturbing, unsettling and even frightening. But, what if for a few brief minutes it is the earthly realm which intrudes upon another and for those beings of that other place we are the intruders, the strange and ghastly ones that disturb their senses? The yellow ghostly hound may be but one of those entities and if it perceives anything of us it may find us as equally disturbing.

And you, my friend, what would you do should your reality form into ripples and part? You are suddenly faced with an unknown unearthly creature, unlike any that you have previously experienced, occupying a space betwixt and between – the familiar and the unfamiliar – the homely and the unhomely – what would you do?

© zteve t evans 11/12/2025

References, Attributions and Further Reading

Copyright zteve t evans – December 11th, 2025

by

Welsh Folklore; Legends of Llangorse Lake

Llangorse Lake in Wales – AI Image – zteve t evans

Llangorse Lake

Llangorse Lake is is part of the Bannau Brycheiniog (Brecon Beacons) National Park close to Llangors and Brecon, and the most recent name, for the most extensive natural lake in South Wales. Its Welsh and older names are Llyn Syfaddon, Llyn Syfaddan, Brecenanmere, and Brycheiniog Mere.

Ynys Bwlc

The lake has a long and engaging history of human activity, boasting the only known example of a crannog in Wales known as Ynys Bwlc or Bwlc Crannog. A crannog is an island made by humans, formerly built in lakes and estuarine waters throughout Scotland, Wales, and Ireland. Crannogs were constructed in water to form artificial islands, unlike the prehistoric pile dwellings around the European Alps, which were built on stilts on the shores and edges of lakes, bogs, and rivers. The crannog on Llangorse Lake is built using massive oak planks to construct a dwelling platform built with layers of stone, soil, and brushwood. The most visible signs are the debris visible on the shoreline and the vertical oak planks visible on the east side.

Æthelflæd, Lady of the Mercians

The lake is mentioned in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle entry for the year 916 A.D which states:

“Aethelflaed sent an army into Wales and stormed Brecenanmere and there captured the wife of the king and thirty-three other persons.”

Aethelflaed was known as the “Lady of the Mercians” and was the ruler of the Anglo-Saxon Kingdom of Mercia and Wales lay on its western border. She was the eldest daughter of Alfred the Great and ruled Mercia from 911 until she died in 918. Her relations with the Welsh are unclear, but in 916, she sent an expedition to avenge the murder of a Mercian abbot and his companions; her men destroyed the royal crannog of the Welsh kingdom of Brycheiniog on Llangorse Lake and captured the queen and thirty-three of her companions. The capture of the King of Brycheiniog’s wife suggests the site was a royal residence or “Llys,” which in medieval Wales, served as the central administrative hub for the ruling princes, but there is no definite proof this was the case with the lake, but there are other associations with royalty.

King Gruffudd ap Llywelyn

According to the twelfth-century writer Walter Map, the Welsh King Gruffudd ap Llywelyn 1039-1063 AD was very jealous of his beautiful wife. When he heard that a man had dreamed, he was in a relationship with his wife, he demanded he be tortured to death. According to Welsh Law of the time, a fine of 1000 kine could be received for those guilty of such a misdemeanour, however, since the man had only dreamt of committing the crime, the case was judged accordingly despite the King’s angry protests. According to Map, the judgment was,

“The young man shall set 1000 kine (cattle) in the king’s sight on the bank of the lake of Bethen (Llangorse), in a row in the sunlight, that the reflection of each maybe seen and that the reflections shall belong to the king and the kine to him who owned them before in as much as a dream is the reflection of the truth.”

Walter Map, hailing from the Welsh border region of Archenfield, displayed a profound familiarity with Llangorse Lake, evident from his accurate descriptions and numerous tales about its ancient legends. What makes his connection intriguing is his association of the lake with Gruffudd ap Llywelyn.

Gruffudd, originating from north Wales, achieved a unique feat by uniting the entire Welsh nation under his rule. He was a relentless adversary of the English, famously devastating Hereford in 1055 AD, including the burning of its cathedral, before returning to Wales laden with spoils. It is plausible that Gruffudd spent the winter of 1055 in south Wales, potentially in Brycheiniog, selecting a site with a Llys and abundant food supplies for his army, and it is possible this may be what is being remarked upon by Walter Map. If Gruffudd did spend the winter in Brycheiniog in south Wales, choosing a location with a Llys and ample food supplies for his army would have been a good move.

Giraldus Cambrensis

Giraldus Cambrensis, also known as Gerald of Wales, noted the lake yielded pike, perch, tench, eels and trout, and waterfowl, and commented on the prophetic powers of the lake, claiming It turned green to forewarn of invasions and sometimes appeared to be ominously streaked with blood. According to Giraldus, the locals believed the lake’s surface was occasionally covered with structures, orchards, and gardens. This could be explained by the uncovering and covering of the crannog, which may have been abandoned by the 12th century when Giraldus wrote his account during periods of flood and drought.

Legends and Folklore

Storm over Llangorse Lake in Wales – AI Image – zteve t evans

Llangorse Lake has its own monster called the Afanc, or Addanc, and nicknamed ‘Gorsey,’ The Afanc is a mythical water monster from Welsh folklore, mentioned in a 15th-century poem by Welsh poet Lewys Glyn Cothi, which was later translated to English by John Rhys.

“The afanc am I, who, sought for, bides
In hiding on the edge of the lake.
Out of the waters of Syfaddon Mere
Was be not drawn, once he got there.
So with me: nor wain nor oxen wont to toil
Me to-day will draw from here forth.”

The Afanc is described as a monstrous creature that preys upon those who venture into or swim in the lake. It has been compared to legendary water monsters such as the Loch Ness Monster, which has a standard description. In contrast, the Afanc is confusingly described as resembling a vast beaver, crocodile, dwarf-like creature, or sometimes a platypus, having no fixed identity. Other Welsh lakes associated with the Afanc include Llyn Llion, Llyn Barfog, and Llyn yr Afanc near Betws-y-coed and Llyn Glaslyn, which was transported there by Hu Gardarn and his Mighty Oxen from the river Conwy.

Myths of Origin

Llangorse Lake is a natural lake but has two myths of origin associated with it which tell how the lake was created by divine retribution because of the wicked and immoral behaviour of its citizens, or rulers.

City of Sin

The first version tells that underneath the watery surface of the lake lays a drowned city whose inhabitants were considered exceptionally wicked. Upon hearing of the immorality and sin of the city’s citizens, the King sent his chamberlain on an unannounced visit to investigate, vowing that if it were true, he would destroy the town as a warning to all of his other subjects.

When the chamberlain arrived unannounced one evening in the guise of an ordinary traveller, he could not help but notice inhabitants were enjoying festivities and excesses. He saw people drinking, dancing, and no one was working or undertaking everyday tasks.

Not one of the citizens offered the stranger hospitality as he walked around the town; they were too drunk or too busy indulging in wanton behaviour to care about a lone traveller. Everywhere he looked in the city, he saw the same lewd and drunkenness and he despaired.

As he was giving up looking for anyone behaving with sense and sobriety to talk to, he saw the front door of a small and humble cottage had been left wide open and could hear the cries of a baby coming from inside. Inside, he found a young babe lying in a cradle, completely unattended and neglected but in need.

Appalled, the chamberlain took off his expensive gloves, did what he could to make the infant clean and comfortable, and remained rocking the cradle, expecting its parents to return home at any minute. Eventually, both he and the infant fell asleep, and he woke well before dawn with a start. Looking out the door, he saw people staggering homeward after a night of drunkenness and excess. After ensuring the babe was safe and comfortable, he shut the door and left to report all he had witnessed to the King.

As he was leaving the city’s bounds, the sky suddenly darkened; rain poured down in torrents while lightning flashed and thunder crashed across the sky. He turned to look and began worrying about the infant he had left alone in its cradle. As he gazed back the way he had come, there was a terrific peal of thunder, and a tremendous display of lightning and rain fell in torrents. He was surprised to see the rain was only falling on the town and unusually despite the dark clouds gathering above the city, the weather was clear and dry outside the city limits. It was very peculiar, but he did not have time to ponder this wonder, as he wanted to return to the king with his report as soon as possible. Therefore, he continued along the path and was quickly out of sight of the city.

Suddenly, the earth groaned and shook, and the ground the city was situated on slowly sank into a deep hollow which rapidly filled with water. The chamberlain felt the earth rumble and groan under his feet, but he had no idea what it meant. Looking at the sky, he saw the sun rising, the dark clouds dissipating, and a chill in the air. He put his hands in his pocket for his gloves but, finding they were not there, remembered he had taken them off to attend the baby.

As the gloves were costly, he thought he would go back to see if he could find them, but he was shocked at what he saw as he came within sight of where the town had been. All the houses and buildings had gone, and a vast expanse of water covered the entire city site. While gazing at the lamentable scene, he saw a dot floating in the middle of the watery expanse. As it drifted towards him, he recognised the cradle where he had left his gloves. As it floated nearer, he drew the cradle towards him using a broken branch from a nearby tree. Bringing it safely to shore, he found, to his relief and happiness, the babe safe and alive inside, and he was so glad he forgot about his gloves.

Taking the infant from the cradle, he hurried back to the king to tell him of all he had seen of the immorality of the townsfolk and how he had seen the city drowned by the storm. The king took pity on the tiny orphan, adopted him, and was the sole survivor of that godless city.

Vengeance Will Come!

The second myth of origin tells a different tale of sin and again involves the theme of divine retribution. In this case, it is wreaked on later generations. It is a theme in several similar myths in Wales and other places around the British Isles.

There once was a beautiful lady who owned a grand estate. She was enormously proud of her high birth and status, and her lovely face made her the object of affection for a young man from Brecon. Paradoxically, her beauty was only skin deep, for she had an ugliness of soul that could not be hidden. She was vain and selfish, considering herself superior to all, looking down with disdain on those of lower status to her.

She had an admirer who was young, handsome, deeply in love with her, and a bold and formidable warrior. But although he was of noble blood, he was born of lower rank than she and had no wealth. Therefore, she looked down on him and, although enjoying his attentions, made it clear he was far too lowly for her to seriously consider him as a potential husband.

Nevertheless, despite her rejection, his passion for her surpassed his love for his mortal soul, and he succumbed to committing a crime, hoping to sufficiently impress the love of his life enough to marry him. Therefore, on meeting a wealthy merchant, driven by the burning desire for her he lured him to a remote and secluded place, murdered him in cold blood, and stole all of his money and valuables which was more than enough to make him wealthy for life.

Returning to his love he showed his beloved the money, gold, and valubles he had stolen from his victim and proposed marriage. Seeing the riches, he now possessed, she was incredibly impressed with his newfound wealth and readily accepted. Although not caring how he had acquired such riches, she asked anyway, hoping there might be more.

He told her how he had lured the wealthy man to a secluded place, murdered him, and stole his money and treasure. The brutality of his crime meant nothing to her, and she asked, “Did you make sure you buried the corpse and concealed the grave?”

Realising he had not bothered to even attempt burying and concealing the body, he told her truthfully, he had not, and she replied,

“Then you must return immediately and bury the corpse, conceal the grave, and make sure there is no evidence to be seen at the site and removing any tracks you made that lead to here. You can be sure he will soon be missed and if his kin discover his body, they make track you down and seek revenge.”

The young warrior returned to the scene of the crime and began digging a grave. While working, he heard a loud voice proclaiming,

“Vengeance will come!”

The warning was sounded three times, the second louder than the first and the third in a thunderous voice. He threw down his spade in terror and, hastening back to his lady love, and told her what he had heard.

“You must return,” she said, “and if you hear the voice again, ask when the punishment will fall?”

He obeyed, and this time, he was allowed to bury the body in peace. Just as he was about to head home, the dread voice again cried,

“Vengeance will come!”

The murderer plucked up his courage and asked when that would be and the voice whispered in reply,

“In the lifetime of thy grandsons, great-grandsons, their children, and their children’s children.”

He returned and told his lady, and she replied, “Then there is no reason for us to fear; we shall have passed beyond long before.” The wicked pair believed themselves safe enough, and their marriage was celebrated. They had sons and daughters who, in their turn, married and had children. These children multiplied, and the family became very numerous until, at last, a descendant of the sixth direct generation was born.

By this time, the murderer and his Lady, were ancient and exulted in their prosperity and power, for they had spread themselves as the green bay tree (1). Said she to him, “We have grown great, rich, and powerful, and our family is numerous. We have lived to our heart’s delight and tasted all life’s pleasures. Before we die, let us hold a splendid celebration for our entire family to honour and recognise how our prosperity in wealth, power and kin has spread from us two into a multitude of descendants, and they shall honour and remember us as the progenitors of a great dynasty.”

An extravagant and lavish celebration was held, and the entire dynasty of their descendants was invited. There was a sumptuous banquet followed by performances by bards, harpist jugglers and many other kinds of entertainment. The wine and ale flowed, and all inhibitions of the guest flowed freely. It was the first time all the generations of the family had gathered in one place, so everyone was happy and glad to be with their kin and give honour to their progenitors. When the gaiety and mirth were at their height, the sky started to darken, and great banks of heavy black clouds rolled across the sky. As the storm passed overhead, a terrific flash of lightning lit up the sky, and a tremendous clash of thunder boomed to ground, causing all to tremble in fear. A terrible voice cried from the depths of the storm clouds,

“Vengeance has come!

Vengeance has come!

Vengeance has come!”

The ground under them shook, trembled, and sank, swallowing the wicked pair and their entire family dynasty as the storm broke above their heads, sending a deluge to earth that quickly filled up the deep hollow in the ground that swallowed the entire family as thunder crashed and lightning flashed.

Not one soul escaped from the entire living dynasty, and a deluge of water poured into the hollow, filling it entirely and becoming known as Syfaddon Lake. In Welsh, “Syfaddon” means “muddy pool,” which some folk may consider apt in multiple ways.

Now, they do say, there are times after a storm, after the darkness has lifted and the fury stilled, a whispering voice can be heard across the water repeating,

“Vengeance is done!

Vengeance is done!

Vengeance is done!“

© 07/06/2025 zteve t evans

References, Attributions and Further Reading

Copyright zteve t evans 7th June, 2025

by

Animal Lore: How Giant Pandas Got Their Black Markings

Giant Panda – modified by A. C. Tatarinov, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

How Giant Pandas got their Black Markings

Giant pandas (Ailuropoda melanoleuca), also called panda bears, or simply pandas, with their distinctive eye and ear patches, are a great favourite among people all around the world. Here we present a legend that explains how they got those distinctive markings, which is also a myth of origin of the Four Sisters Mountain that overlooks their sanctuary in China.

Dolma, the Shepherdess

Once in a lifetime, if we are lucky, we find among us one of those rare, special, people who radiate love, peace, and joy, illuminating the lives of all around them. One of those special ones was Dolma, a young shepherdess living in the Wolong Valley of China. Everyone considered her the friendliest and most likeable person, who always had a good word to say about anyone and was always there for those who needed help. The sheep she tended adored her, and in her presence, the birds sang, the insects buzzed, and the small, timid creatures were at ease.

She liked to take her sheep every day to graze on the hills around the valley where the best grass grew. One day to her surprise, as her sheep were quietly grazing and the lambs were playing and gambolling, a panda cub decided to join in the fun.

In those days, giant pandas were all white, and this youngster was at an age when he was about the same size as some of the lambs. Maybe the young panda thought the lambs were the same as him, or perhaps he did not care, only wanting to play with others his age. Whatever the reason, he was readily accepted into their games and joined in the fun.

Leopard Attack

One day the young panda was running and jumping with the lambs having a wonderful time. Suddenly, a hidden leopard that had been stalking the lambs sprang upon him, clasping its jaws around his neck. Bravely, the young shepherdess snatched up a stout stick and attacked the leopard. She managed to distract the savage beast enough for the terrified young panda to escape, but it was too fierce and powerful for her to drive off alone. The leopard would never normally have attacked Dolma, as like the other animals, it adored her, but furious at losing its prey, its wild, savage instinct, took over and it fought back, ferociously and killed her.

Dolma’s Funeral

The young panda ran back to its own kind and tearfully told how the kind-hearted shepherdess had bravely attacked the leopard to save him. All the family of pandas were touched by the self-sacrifice and goodness of the shepherdess. To show their gratitude for her heroic self-sacrifice, they attended her funeral with their arms smothered with dark ash, which was the customary practice then.

It was a very sad day for her family and friends, but they were glad that the pandas came to express their respect and sorrow and the loss of Dolma.

The giant pandas wept and wailed, howling to the skies in their sorrow. Their tears fell like rain filling their eyes, and they wiped them with their paws and the ash blackened their eyes. They clutched and slapped themselves in grief. Wherever their ashy paws touched their white body fur, a black stain appeared. Their wails and cries were so loud they tried to block out their clamour by covering their ears.

Over time memories may fade, so to keep the memory of the heroic shepherdess alive, they refused to wash the ash from their fur. It is these black marks that make them so unique and endearing to humans. To this day, pandas carry the ashy marks of grief but are not bitter at this permanent disfigurement. On the contrary, they proudly display their markings in beloved memory of Dolma, the courageous, kind-hearted shepherdess who saved one of their own children at the cost of her life.

The Four Sisters Mountain

Dolma’s family were all overwhelmed with grief and sorrow but were also enormously proud of her courageous sacrifice. Her three loving sisters, devastated at their loss, and unable to endure being parted from their sister, vowed they would never leave her side and hurled themselves upon her grave. From her grave in that grief-filled moment, from the mournful earth, rose a beautiful, majestic mountain with four peaks which each sister had been transformed into. That mountain is known as Mount Siguniang, or the Four Sisters Mountain and ever since has stood guard over the pandas to this day. (1)

© 02/06/2025 zteve t evans 

References, Attributions, and Further Reading 

Copyright June 2nd, 2025 zteve t evans

by

Welsh Folklore: Old Sian’s Tales of Llyn Du’r Arddu

Old Sian – AI image – zteve t evans

The Blackstone of Arddu

Near the summit of Yr Wyddfa, or Mount Snowdon lies the Clogwyn Du’r Arddu, or the Black Cliff of Arddu. At the base of this cliff lies a small lake called the Llyn Du’r Arddu, or the Black Lake of Arddu. Near the lake lies the stone of Maen Du’r Arddu, also known as the Black Stone of Arddu. The cliffs are popular with climbers, and the stone is said to help with speed and endurance for those who seek it out. The mysterious stone was said to have accidentally fell out of a heavy bag of rocks the devil was carrying while on his way to construct a bridge across the Menai Strait and became known as the Maen Du’r Arddu, or the Black Stone of Arddu. Another legend says that if two people sleep the night on top of the stone, their fates will be revealed in the morning. One will become an unparalleled bard with a wonderous talent for poetry, and the other will become utterly mad.

Tales of Old Siân Dafydd

John Rhys, author of the 1901 publication ‘Celtic Folklore Welsh and Manx’, writes of an elderly woman called Siân Dafydd who dwelt at Helfa Fawr vale called Cwm Brwynog, who was known to be eccentric and had an unusual interest in the various kinds of water in her locality. She always wore the traditional Welsh costume and was often seen strolling around the edge of a lake or pond, taking sips here and there to gauge its taste, sniffing the water’s odour, and checking its transparency, or sampling the water of local rivers, springs and wells in a similar way.

Old Sian was convinced each body of water had unique qualities, and she set out to discover all she could about identifying and classifying them. She spent hours studying the lakes, ponds, and springs in her local area, trying to identify the individual qualities each held trying to observe how it affected the creatures that swam or drank from each body of water and any vegetation that drew moisture from it. Her obsession was thought to have sprang from her desire to cure herself of cancerous warts, a condition referred to as Defaid Gwylltion in that part of the world at the time.

After extensive research, she had unequivocal faith that the only cure for her disease was the water from Tai Bach Spring, close to Llyn Ffynnon y Gwas, and each day, she sent a servant to that spring to bring back a pitcher full of water for her personal use. However, it so happened her servant believed that water from one source was the same as any other, so to save himself a tiresome journey, he would visit a nearby spring to fill the jug. Eventually, old Sian died, as we all must, but the cause of her death was put down to old age rather than malignant warts.

As well as her obsession with water, during her long life, she had acquired an extensive knowledge of the local folklore, which she had passed on traditionally by telling stories to her family and friends, which they remembered and handed on the same way. Three and a half decades after her passing, two brothers, aged between sixty and seventy, considered to be of trustworthy character and sound mind, recalled a story she told them in their youth.

The Fairy Bride from Llyn Du’r Arddu

This, they claimed, was about a farmer who once saw a maiden of the Tylwyth Teg dancing on the surface of Llyn Du’r Arddu. He was intrigued and greeted her in a friendly way, hoping not to frighten her. She responded favourably, and they began to chat and flirt, enjoying each other’s company, as young people often do. Before long their relationship had blossomed into something deeper and more meaningful and they began to meet regularly.

The maiden’s parents saw a change in their daughter’s habits and behaviour and noticed she often visited the surface of Llyn Du’r Arddu. Therefore, one warm evening, noticing she had gone missing again, they materialized on the lake’s surface to see what she was up to and were not overly surprised to find she was in the company of a young mortal man.

She presented them with her beloved, who they found to be a charming and attractive young man, who, with his lover’s agreement, asked them for their daughter’s hand in marriage. Like other parents, they asked about his prospects and how he made a living, and he told them he had inherited a small farm, which he was working hard to build into a profitable business.

They were convinced that he genuinely held deep feelings for her and she for him. However, like others of the Fair Folk, they did not really approve of the marriage of their kind with humans, even though it was known to happen in the past. Nevertheless, they knew their daughter well enough to understand once her mind was set, she would not be turned.

Therefore, they gave their approval but only on the condition he agreed to be bound by a marriage contract. The terms of the agreement were as follows: Their daughter would bring with her to earth cows, sheep, and other livestock from the Otherworld that had faerie blood. These animals were of more outstanding quality and more productive than earthly livestock. As well as this, she would bring the luck of the Fair Folk.

In return, he must never strike her with an iron object, or she would immediately be returned to her own world, taking all the livestock and luck she had brought with her. Furthermore, they would be forever separated, and all the good fortune he had gained from the marriage would dissolve.

The young man readily accepted. He had never been violent or quarrelsome, and he could not imagine anything that would induce him to strike his wife, whom he adored, with iron. For her part, she could not ever imagine him doing so, being utterly convinced of his love for her and the gentleness of his character. Therefore, with the Marriage Contract agreed, the wedding took place, and she brought a valuable dowry of faerie livestock to the earthly realm. They lived happily together, and with her faerie livestock, the farm prospered; luck always was with them, and they became very wealthy.

They were the kind of couple who thrived in each other’s company and did everything together. One day, they were trying to catch a frisky pony but were not having much success, and their attempts made the animal even friskier. The pony was dancing, leaping, tossing, and treating it as a game and playfully dodged their attempts to catch it. For their part, the husband and his wife were also having fun trying to catch. He told his wife that while he distracted it, she should try to sneak up from behind, slip the bridle over its head, and threw it gently through the air for her to catch. She easily caught it, but the iron bit lightly struck her shoulder. It did not hurt her, but both stood looking at each other, aghast at the accident, knowing its awful consequence.

The world stood still as, through sorrowful eyes, they gazed deep into each other’s souls for one last fleeting moment, and then she turned and ran into the lake with all the livestock she had brought to the farm following her. The last he saw of her was the water covering her shoulders and head as she ran unflinchingly into the lake, never to be seen on the earth again. Without the livestock she had brought, the once prosperous farm declined quickly. All the luck that had brought prosperity, success and happiness to the young man faded away, and he fell into bankruptcy and died a poor and lonely man yearning for his lost love.

Now, one of the elder brothers admitted his memory might be faulty, and mixed up this lake with one of the numerous other remote pools found in the area that old Sian told her tales about. Nevertheless, he asserts it is always dangerous for mortals to have dealings with the Fair Folk, for once you have known the joys of the Otherworld, no other pleasure can ever compare. The younger brother added,

“Ah, indeed, if you never knew such delights, you would never miss them!”

Hmm, or would you miss them? What do you think?

© 25/05/2025 zteve t evans

References, Attributions and Further Reading

Copyright zteve t evans May 25th, 2025, All rights Reserved.

by

Japanese Folktales: The Gratitude of the Samébito

The Samébito – AI image – zteve t evans

Lacadio Hearn

In his writing of Japanese culture, Lafcadio Hearn provided intriguing insights into an older mystical and mysterious culture that had been replaced by the country’s fast embrace of Westernisation into a modern industrialised nation. For the Japanese, his work was valued as a treasury of myths, legends, folktales, and traditional lore that might have disappeared with the country’s rapid modernisation. For Westerners, his writing provided a fascinating window into an ancient, distant, exotic land. A land populated by strange and frightening ghosts, spirits, and supernatural beings invented by a vastly different mindset that reflected the people’s and the ruling classes’ daily struggles, victories, hopes and fears. The following offering is a retelling of “The Gratitude of the Samébito” from his book, “Shadowings,” a compilation of traditional Japanese folklore and stories.

The Gratitude of the Samébito

Life is transient. Cherry blossom fades, returning each spring. Tawaraya Tōtarō was a humble young man whose greatest ambition was to find and marry a beautiful woman he loved, and she, him, and continue their evolutionary journey together. By this, he meant he was searching for his soulmate – the Beautiful One – with whom he had shared former lives.

His idea of beauty differed from a society with very fixed opinions of the perfect face and body men and woman should possess. He had met many physically stunningly attractive women – and indeed – the world seemed full of them. As beautiful as they were, frustratingly for him, he had not yet found the soul mate he yearned for by the time he reached twenty-nine.

His family looked at him disapprovingly, and he wondered if his hopes were not overly ambitious and if he should marry the first lovely maiden who accepted his proposal and live a life of pretence. Most females in his society would consider him a good catch, being rather handsome and athletic and of the most excellent character. More importantly, although not excessively wealthy, he lived in considerable comfort on a small but attractive estate on Lake Biwa’s shore, near the famous temple of Ishiyamadera in the Province of Ōmi. By the social conventions of his day, he could be considered a good marriage prospect for most young women. Nevertheless, despite his shame and sorrow and the insensitive disapproval of society, he remained unmarried, keeping faithful to his heart’s desire.

At times, he questioned whether his expectations were too high, if he had any flaws, or if he was unlucky in love. He often felt lonely and longed for his Beautiful One, and his days grew gloomier, longer, and harder to endure. He considered lowering his ambitions to find a wife, but deep down, he knew that would not bring him happiness. Therefore, he persevered in his quest to find and reunite with his soul mate.

A Strange Encounter on the Bridge

One day, as he was strolling over the Long Bridge of Séta, he encountered someone very unusual whose likes he had never seen before. This individual had an unnatural appearance and was crouching beside one of the parapets on the bridge. Tōtarō saw that although its body, arms and legs were vaguely human, its head was more like that of a shark a small neck connecting it to the body. Its skin was of a smooth and unblemished with no visble hair on head or body. Depending on how the light fell, from the top of its head and down along its back it could take on a very dark greenish, or even bluish hue or even the deepest, darkest purple. Its face was pale and inhuman and shark-like, but with a peculiar, unique elegance, and its chest was also pale and reddish in places. It possessed a broad but sensitively formed mouth and eyes that were intelligent, bright, and lit by a greenish fire at times.

The Long Bridge of Séta by Utagawa Hiroshige, CC0, via Wikimedia Commons

For all its unworldly and, some might think, demonic appearance, it exuded gentleness and intelligence. Yet the pitiful thing looked in a sorry state – disorientated, hungry, exhausted – alone in the world and lost. This unexpected encounter shook Tōtarō. He had never seen anyone like him before, could not believe his eyes, and wondered if he was seeing things. Nevertheless, despite his shock, his natural kindness and curiosity got the better of him. He hated seeing any living thing in distress, so he tried to communicate by talking soothingly and asking gentle questions.

To begin with, this odd, miserable, individual refused to respond, remaining slumped against the parapet, staring at him glumly with its huge emerald eyes, looking tired and out of place. With gentle patience, Tōtarō persisted, and eventually, the creature reacted,

“As you persist in asking and do not seem threatening, I will talk to you. Despite your disbelieving eyes, I will confirm I am real, though I am not of your kind, never have been, and never will be. I am a Shark-Man – a Samébito of the deep sea. Only a brief time ago, I was a low-ranking officer serving in the Dragon Palace of the Eight Great Dragon Kings. Alas, Thanks to a small mistake I made, I was discharged from the Palace and banished from the sea. Thus, homeless and forsaken by my kind and unable to remain in the sea, I wandered onto the land to search for a pool or lake to live in. Eventually, I found my way to this bridge where we now meet. Alas, I am famished, exhausted, and lost. You seem compassionate, so if you pity me, I beg you to help me find food and shelter. In return, I will bestow upon you my exceptional gratitude!”

The creature was so unhappy and pathetic that despite its strange and unworldly appearance, Tōtarō, deeply touched by its plight, replied,

“Very well, I will help you if I can. At the bottom of my garden there is pond that I think will be big enough and deep enough for you to live in comfortably. If you like, you can reside there, and every day, I shall bring you the food of your liking.”

The strange creature seemed genuinely pleased and grateful and followed him home. When Tōtarō showed him the pond, he happily accepted the offer and made it his home. Every day, just as he had promised, Tōtarō brought him food, and they soon struck up a deep friendship.

For the next six months, the Samébito dwelt happily in the pond thanks to the generosity of Tōtarō, who began to think of the outlandish creature differently, no longer regarding him as a bizarre, inhuman creature. Instead, he saw an unfortunate victim of a heartless king and uncaring society, savagely banished from his own kind to wander alone and friendless, an outsider in an alien world he could never be a part of or understand, all for a single misdemeanour.

Moreover, despite his ungainly appearance, Tōtarō saw in him the best human qualities, such as empathy, kindness, and sensitivity, blended with intelligence, honesty, and loyalty. He began to regard him as a valued and trusted human friend and companion, enjoying engaging conversations and his excellent company more each day.

The Nyonin-Mōdé Pilgrimage

Evening Bell at Miidera Temple by Utagawa Hiroshige, CC0, via Wikimedia Commons

In this pleasant way, Tōtarō passed his time. Eventually, he realised it was the time of year for the Nyonin-Mōdé pilgrimage of females to the celebrated Buddhist temple of Miidera in the neighbouring town of Ōtsu.

 It is true that wherever single young maidens gather, single young men are never far away, and Tōtarō decided he would visit. This was purely in the pretence of looking for a wife to please social opinion rather than expecting to find his Beautiful One – the soulmate his heart so desperately yearned to be reunited with. The one he had met in previous lives and with whom he hoped to share the remainder of his present life and those after.

Many pretty women were there, but he was only attracted to one. She lacked the attributes that society recognised as physical beauty, and received no attention from the other young men who were intent on searching for a bride that would display their superior manliness to the world.

She caught Tōtarō’s attention not so much for her physical attractiveness, which, in his eyes alone, was unsurpassed, but also for her poise, demeanour and the goodness of her nature. Indeed, in his eyes, she appeared as pure as newly fallen snow, and from her lovely lips sang a voice as sweet and musical as a nightingale singing in a plum tree under the moon. But more importantly, he experienced an invisible attraction and sense of belonging that he found difficult to articulate, and he knew she was the One.

He followed her at a respectful distance to find out where she was staying and discovered she and her mother had taken a house for a few days in the next village of Séta. Furthermore, by making discreet inquiries, he found her name was Tamana, and his hopes rose to learn she was unmarried and had not pledged herself to anyone.

However, hope turned to disappointment when he heard that her parents had a condition for her marriage. They wanted her to marry someone who belonged to a similar or higher social status and was wealthy enough to provide a casket of ten thousand precious gems as a betrothal gift. In those times in old Japan, ten thousand gems were hard to find, and only a few of the wealthiest princes and the emperor had the means to provide such dowry, which is why her parents demanded it.

Tōtarō was hugely disappointed and thoroughly downhearted. In his eyes, she was worth far more than her parents demanded. He would have gladly given all the precious gems in the world if only they had been his to reunite with his Beautiful One, but it was entirely beyond his means.

A Hopeless Situation

The more he contemplated the hopelessness of the situation, the deeper he fell into depression. But the more he dwelt on the injustice of it all, the greater his desire for his Beautiful One grew, and soon, he could not banish her from his mind. He saw her lovely smiling face and dark, beautiful eyes everywhere he looked, day or night. She seemed so near, yet so far, and he could not stop thinking about her, not even for an hour.

He longed to see her lovely face, hear her voice, talk to her, smell her fragrance, taste her lips, and hold her close to his heart for all eternity. In this haunted way, he spent every hour day and night unable to eat, drink, or sleep. Becoming steadily weaker, he took to his bed, and there remained, refusing all bodily nourishment. At last, he sent for a doctor who gave him a thorough physical examination and closely questioned him about his state of mind.

Tōtarō held nothing back and bared his soul about his love and the impossibility of being able to provide the betrothal gift. After listening closely, the doctor diagnosed him to be suffering from lovesickness and gravely advised that while there were cures for most ailments and diseases of the body, this condition was beyond the skill of any physician to cure. The only hope for those afflicted was if the one who was the focus of their affection returned their affections in kind, but adding, from what he had told him, he advised he should prepare himself for death. Unable to do anything else for Tōtarō and with no medication, or further advice, to give him, he left him to confront his destiny.

The Tears of the Samébito

The Samébito residing in the pond learned about his friend and benefactor’s illness and visited him at his bedside. Despite not knowing the cause of the sickness or the doctor’s diagnosis, he stayed by his friend’s side, nursing him day and night. However, after devotedly tending to his benefactor for a week, the patient, thinking his time was drawing near, spoke to him from his heart,

“I know we are vastly different beings, at least on the outside, but I have enjoyed providing for you and having you reside in my pond. Despite our differences, I feel closer to you than any man I have ever known. I often wondered if we formed some friendly relationship in one of our former lives. However, as you can see, I succumb to my illness and grow weaker daily. Life is transient. Cherry blossom fades, returning each spring.

It is for you, my friend, about which I am now worried. Your most diligent tending of me in my sick bed has repaid any debt you owed me for my care and your residence in my pond. But I worry now about who will care for you when I have gone. Alas, is it not so that in this bitter world, our hopes and dreams for happiness and security are always disappointed.”

The Samébito, hearing these words, uttered a terrible, unearthly cry of pain. Tears streamed from the corners of his eyes and down his face, but they were not human tears. They were the tears of a Shark Man. He wept tears of blood that flowed from his sea-green eyes and rolled down his sable face to turn into beautiful rubies when they hit the floor, and each gem shone with a blood-red fire like the setting sun. This is how the Samébito – the Shark-Men of the sea – grieve. They weep seldom, but when they do, it is only through genuine sorrow drawn from the depths of their soul, and that is why each tear is more precious than a gem.

As Tōtarō gazed at the pile of blood-red gems on the floor, he felt a surge of amazement and joy. His health and vitality instantly returned, prompting him to leap out of bed and begin picking up and counting the priceless tears of the Shark-Man. Excitedly, he cried,

“I’m going to live after all!”

Amazed at his friend’s sudden recovery, the weeping Shark-Man asked how this had transpired. Tōtarō shared the story of his beloved from past lives and expressed his firm belief that he had found her once more at the Miidera pilgrimage, reigniting his love for her. He explained how her parents had effectively placed the marriage of their daughter beyond the reach of all but the wealthiest suitors in the land by demanding a casket of ten thousand precious gems as a wedding gift. Believing he could never afford such a valuable present, he had fallen ill, pining for what was beyond his reach, but now he told his friend excitedly,

“I never thought I could offer such a valuable gift, but your generosity has given me more precious stones than I could have ever dreamed of. Although there is still a shortage, I believe we can obtain more with your assistance, my dear friend. I would appreciate it if you could continue to shed tears until I have enough gems to provide her parents the required wedding gift.”

But the Samébito was confounded and disappointed by the request and bitterly reproached him,

“Tōtarō, my best of friends and great benefactor, to whom I owe so much. Do you think I am some conjurer who magically produces precious jewels from his eyes whenever someone wants riches?

Conjurors perform for money, pulling items from their sleeves where they been have previously stashed. My tears spontaneously formed in the deepest part of my heart, coming from genuine sorrow when I believed you to be dying. Now you tell me you are miraculously cured!

I am baffled, but my heart feels relief and happiness, and therefore, I cannot weep for you, though I would if I could if it helped provide your heart’s desire. Conjurors find it easy to perform for money, but Shark Men cannot do that without experiencing genuine sorrow.”

Tōtarō, heard is friend, and felt deeply for him, and did not want him to suffer for his the sake and asked miserably,

“Then whatever shall I do? Unless I find ten thousand precious gems from somewhere, I will not be able to marry my beloved and will surely die of grief, yet I cannot ask you to endure such pain from my happiness.”

They both fell silent, contemplating the problem. At last, the Samébito spoke,

“I really want to help, but I have wept enough today and cannot weep further. But tomorrow, if you wish, we could pack a lunch of fish and wine and go to the Long Bridge of Séta, where we met. We can sit looking over the water, enjoy the food and drink, and I can look towards the Dragon Palace while reflecting on the cherished memories of my life there. Those were joyful days, and I miss them. I long to be back home. With these sad thoughts and the wine, I am sure tears will flow from my eyes from my breaking heart enough to fulfil your needs, and you will experience the gratitude of the Samébito.”

Tōtarō happily agreed to this proposal. Therefore, the following day, he prepared a packed lunch of fish and wine, and the two of them went to the Long Bridge of Séta, sat down, ate the fish, and drank the wine together. As the Samébito gazed over the water towards the Dragon Palace, he felt a sense of longing and sadness. Wistfully, he remembered his past life and the joyful times he had spent serving the king. Tears welled up in his eyes as he reminisced.

From the Heart of the Samébito

His heart softened as the wine seeped into his emotions, and he began yearning for old times. Memories of the agony and suffering he endured during his exile came flooding back to him. Tears filled his eyes, and red drops rolled down his face, transforming into painful, precious ruby gems as they fell to the ground and hardened. Tōtarō swiftly collected the items and proceeded to count them. The tears of the homesick Samébito rolled down his face until Tōtarō gave a triumphant shout, announcing the ten thousandth precious gem.

Suddenly, from the far side of the lake, beautiful music floated towards them on the water; ethereal in quality, it formed a vision of a pure white cloud in the shape of the Dragon Palace under the crimson sky of the setting sun. With pure delight, the Samébito leapt up and bounded onto the parapet, eagerly scanning further across the expansive lake. His sorrowful tears quickly transformed into tears of boundless joy and exuberant laughter, causing him to shout with exhilaration to his companion.

“It appears there has been an amnesty for offenders, and the Kings of the Dragon Realm are summoning us home, and I must obey their call. Despite my joy at being forgiven and recalled, it is with a heavy heart that I bid you farewell. I want you to know that I am profoundly grateful and feel incredibly blessed that you chose to extend your friendship and care to me. We shall meet again in other lives and renew our companionship as we evolve to higher ways, but until then, be sure that the gratitude of the Samébito is steadily unfolding!”

Jumping down from the parapet, he fondly embraced Tōtarō. Then, he turned and, with a single bound, leapt back on the parapet, dived into the water, and was never seen on land again. Although saddened at the loss of his friend, and thanks only to that same friend’s gratitude, Tōtarō now had a full casket of precious red rubies, which he presented to the parents of his beloved and gained their permission to marry his Beautiful One. Reunited once again, they spent many happy years together before taking the long road to Yomi together, hand in hand and Tawaraya Tōtarō was ever grateful for the gratitude of the Samébito, but life is transient. Cherry blossom fades, returning each spring.

The End

© 20/05/2025 zteve t evans

References, Attributions and Further Reading

Copyright May 20th, 2025 zteve t evans

by

South American Folklore: The Maiden, the Moon Goddess, and the Giant Water Lily

1) Giant Amazon Water Lilly by
Bilby, CC BY 3.0, via Wikimedia Commons

Victoria Amazonica

The giant waterlily, Victoria amazonica, holds a special place in the myths, legends, and traditions of many of the South American indigenous people, living around the Amazon basin, where it is considered a symbol of beauty and purity. Until the recent discovery of Victoria boliviana, it was deemed the largest species of water lily but now takes second place. Nevertheless, it is still impressive growing massive leaves up to 2.5 meters wide that can hold up to 200 kg of evenly distributed weight. These leaves are green on top and reddish-purple below. They have a thick rim that keeps them afloat and prevents overlapping and fragrant flowers that change from white to pink over two nights. The flowers open at dusk and close at dawn and pollinated by scarab beetles, attracted by their scent and heat. Many myths and legends have evolved around this extraordinary plant and the following are just three examples.

Victoria Amazonica – Walter Hood Fitch, lithography, Public domain

Jaci, the Moon Goddess

In the mythology of the Tupi-Guarani people of South America the moon goddess is named Jaci. She is the patron of animals, lovers, reproduction, plants, night, moonlight, offerings, and maidens. In some myths, she is believed to be the twin sister or wife of Guaraci, the sun god, or the daughter or wife of Tupã, the supreme god. She is exceptionally beautiful and is said to take the most attractive female virgins from her earth-dwelling people to the sky, where she turns them into stars. In other traditions she lovingly transforms them into “stars of water,” which are the giant water lilies that open white flowers at night to receive her light. Several versions of the legend exist, based on a girl attempting to unite with the moon goddess and two are presented here.

Naiá and the Moon Goddess

3) Giant waterlily, Victoria amazonica by Walter Hood Fitch, Public domain,

The first comes from the Tupi-Guarani people and tells how the giant water lily was once a young maiden named Naiá. She had fallen in love with the moon goddess Jaci, who appeared at night and whose light illuminated the sweet faces of the young girls known as the cunhantãs-moças. When Jaci moved behind the mountain, she took the girls with her transforming them into stars in the night sky. However, after the transformation they lost their human flesh and blood. Even so, Naiá was deterred by the notion of this loss. She had been brought up listening to stories of the moon goddess and dreamed of becoming a star in the sky, like the ones that Jaci created.

Every night, she searched for the goddess far and wide, climbing hills and trees to reach out and try and touch her but without success. Although disappointed, she refused to give up. Then, to her joy, one night, she saw the moon’s reflection on the watery surface of a lake. Believing it was Jaci, she dived in to embrace her but sadly drowned. However, Jaci was watching in the night sky and saw what happened. Pleased by her love and dedication, she transformed Naiá into something of unique beauty on earth named the “star of the waters,” which was the Amazon’s giant water lily. The legend says the plant opens its white flowers to bathe in Jaci’s light on nights of the full moon.

Nauê and the Moon

In another legend the moon is not a goddess. Instead, it tells how Nauê, the chief’s beautiful daughter, fell in love with the reflection of the moon which she saw in the shining on the surface of a lake one night. From then on, every night, Nauê went to look at the reflection becoming obsessed with it. Eventually, she sought the advice of a local shaman who told her what she saw in the water was the face of a handsome prince. Several days later, the reflection disappeared from the lake, and Nauê full of sadness and yearning for the prince fell sick. One night, in her delirium, she saw the moon reflected in the lake and believed she saw the prince. Hoping to embrace him, she ran to the lake and threw herself into the water but never returned. Tupã, creator of the universe, human beings, good, bad, and light, whose home was the sun, was touched by the fate of Nauê and changed her into one of the loveliest flowers of the lakes, the giant waterlily.

Myth of Origin

As is often seen in other parts of the world the indigenous people of South America combine the moon, flower, and the maiden to create a myth to explain the origin of something special found in their environment. The moon, the flower and the maiden are all associated with beauty, purity, cycles of life, change and renewal. It is the relationship between moon goddess or the universal creator and the maiden that eventually transforms the maiden into the special flower that lives on after her death.

© 08/02/2025 zteve t evans

References, Attributions and Further Reading

Copyright February 8th, 2025 zteve t evans

by

Laos Folklore: The Mythical Sao Bird

Mythical Sao Bird – AI Image

Talking Birds

Many people keep avains for pets though my own preference is to see birds fly freely in the sky or hear their cheery songs in the branches of trees. Nevertheless, birds, especially the talking kind, have long been popular pets with humans around the world. The folk tradition of Laos, Southeast Asia, the Sao bird possessed exceptional vocal skills compared to other talking birds. This was because instead of mimicking speech like mynah birds or parrots are accused of doing, they could think, express their thoughts, and learn and converse in at least five human languages: Lao, Chinese, Thai, Khmer, and Vietnamese.

Presented below is a retelling of Laos folktale “Why the Parrot and the Minor Bird but Echo the Words of Man,” from, “Laos Folk-Lore of Farther India,” by Katherine Neville Fleeson which explains how this situation came to be.

The Tale of the Mythical Sao Bird of Laos

The Sao was considered remarkable because unlike other speaking birds, it could hear a single word or phrase and repeat and remeber what was said after hearing it just once. For these and other remarkable abilities, the Sao was sought after and frequently captured or hatched from an egg by people to keep as a pet. For many generations, humans enormously admired these birds until the lies of one dishonest man ended this relationship.

This story recalls how a man living in northern Laos kept a Sao bird in his home as a pet. This man was an untrustworthy and wicked thief, and one day, he stole and slaughtered his neighbor’s buffalo. He cooked and ate a portion but split the rest into two portions for later consumption. He hid one portion in his rice bin and the other in the roof space of his house.


The following day, the neighbour noticed his buffalo was missing and went to search for it. He approached the man, not realising he was the thief, and asked if he had seen the animal. The cunning thief denied seeing it and expressed sympathy and his wish for his neighbour to find the lost animal. But just as the neighbour was about to leave, the Sao bird loudly declared, “He killed it! He ate part of it, then hid part of it in the rice bin and the rest in the roof space of the house!”

The neighbour searched the house’s rice bin and roof space and found the buffalo parts just as the Sao bird had said. The man insisted that he had not stolen the buffalo, but the bird continued to call out, “I saw him! He killed it! I saw him eat some! He hid one part in the rice bin and the other in the space in the roof of his house.”

The neighbour looked from bird to the man and could not decide who was telling the truth. Therefore, he took the case to the local court for resolution. The night before the trial, the man trapped the bird in a glass jar, covered it with a cloth, and muffled its cries. Next, he doused water over the jar and banged on its side, creating a deep and reverberating sound. Locked inside the jar, the bird was deprived of seeing the full moon’s brightness that lit up the dark sky like daylight. With the dawn, the man released the bird from its jar and returned it to its cage. He then brought it to court as a witness.The bird was called to give evidence, and it repeated its previous statement: “He killed it and cut it up. One part he ate. A second part he put in the rice bin, the third part he hid in the roof space of his house.”

There was uproar in the court and everyone believed the bird. As the judge was about to pronounce announce his decision and punishement, the accused stood up and putting on a great act of indignant innocence pleaded, “Surely my word means more than that of a mere bird! Please ask one more question! Ask what kind of night it was yesterday evening! Are you going to condemn me to death based on the words of a bird?”

His acting fooled the court, and the Sao bird was questioned about the previous night’s weather conditions. The bird recalled being overwhelmed by fear due to the loud rumbling and downpour of water and truthfully replied, “Last night was pitch black and terrifying! The sky grumbled, and rain poured down.”

The crowd protested, shouting, “The bird cannot be trusted! everyone saw how bright and full the moon was and how dry the weather was. This bird has put an innocent life in danger and can no longer be held with such respect and high regard!” And with that, the dishonest man was released from captivity.

Injustice

But after this incident, the Sao bird was shunned and driven out by humans and retreated to the depths of the great forest, where it remained hidden and eventually faded from memory. Occasionally, foresters heard voices talking in the dense leafy canopy above, talking in the language of humans. Being superstitious and fearful, the folk wrongly identified what they heard as voices belonging to evil spirits.

One day, the Sao stumbled upon a bird it had never encountered before. It was a very strikingly handsome parrot, and the Sao realized the stranger was a newcomer from the northern region. Curious about the stranger, the Sao went to the crow and the owl to inquire what they knew of the newcomers.

“They are quite stunning, aren’t they? And they care very clever possessing the ability to mimic human speech,” replied the crow and the owl.

“What? Speak the language of humans!” the Sao bird cried aghast. “I will warn them. Come, let us greet them,” and called a meeting of all birds and invited the beautiful strangers. When they had all gathered in one place, the Sao bird addressed the meeting thus,

I lived with humans for many years. I saw with my eyes and heard with my ears and could speak my own thoughts and knew right from wrong. But I made the mistake of speaking not only of what I saw and heard but also of things that displeased people, and through that I suffered a great injustice.

Therefore, I warn you today that if humans learn of your speaking ability, they will capture you and keep you in their homes and will teach you words and phrases that please and flatter them. While you mimic, without thinking, what they tell you, they will love you and look after you. Be warned!

Humans only love to hear their thoughts repeated and cannot cope with a mere bird speaking a truth that contradicts their own experience of reality. They will vilify, reject, and shun you and drive you from their homes.”

That is how the Sao bird fell out of favour with humans and why parrots and other talking avians dare not speak their minds in front of people. Of course, this means talking birds know more than what they are saying, and I suspect more than their human keepers, locked in our own perpetual prison of arrogant hubris, will ever know.

©18/11/2024 zteve t evans

References Attributions and Further Reading

Copyright November 18th, 2024, zteve t evans

  • Why the Parrot and the Minor Bird but Echo the Words of Man – eBook of Laos Folk-Lore of Farther India, by Katherine Neville Fleeson
  • Image – Mythical Sao Bird conjured by zteve t evans, using Microsoft Bing Image Creator from Designer, using the commands, “A plain white raven-like bird, with a long beak with long streaming tail feathers perch on a branch of bright colorful flowers, in the the jungle in the style of southeast Asian art. make the bird all white.”
by

Passamaquoddy Tales: Sojourn in The Country of the Thunder People

“The Thunder Maiden Fastened His Purple Wings To His Shoulders And Bade Him Good-Bye” (1)
Illustrator: Dorothy Dulin

The Passamaquoddy people are Native American of the USA and First Nations of Canada, whose traditional homeland, Peskotomuhkatik, spans Maine, USA and New Brunswick Province of Canada. This was part of a region known as Dawnland, the land of the Wabanaki Confederacy, a federation of four primary Eastern Algonquian nations: the Mi’kmaq, Maliseet (Wolastoqey), Passamaquoddy (Peskotomahkati) and Penobscot. The following story retells a traditional Passamaquoddy tale called, “The Thunder People,” collected by Julia Darrow Cowles in her anthology, Indian Nature Myths. 

The Thunder People

One day a young warrior of the Passamaquoddy folk out hunting with bow and arrow roused a deer that sped off through the wilds. Excitedly, he gave chase, knowing he could not match its speed, but noted its course and followed behind at a steady pace, hoping it would settle down and rest, giving him a chance to catch up. He tracked it steadily across the country until he found himself on a high rocky escarpment overlooking a plain. On the horizon, he saw heavy black clouds moving ominously over the plain towards him. He was far from home and sought somewhere to shelter from the storm.

Gazing around, he was surprised and pleased to see the deer sheltering under a crag of the rock. He drew his bow, notched an arrow, and took aim, but as he was about to fire, the thunder spoke, and the deer transformed into a maiden. Instead of firing, he lowered his bow and stared at her in amazement.

Then, the thunder spoke again, and he asked, “Who are you?”

She replied, “I am the Thunder Maiden, sister of the Thunder Men, daughter of the Thunder Father of the Thunder Family. I invite you to visit my home, the country of the thunder.”

The youth was utterly astonished and continued to gaze at her speechlessly as if in a dream. Once again, the thunder spoke, jolting him back to reality. His attention turned to the gathering gloom and heaviness of the air and the approaching storm that would soon unleash its fury on the world. He knew the crag the deer sheltered offered little protection as the storm would sweep in from the plain and lash hard against the cliff face. Moreover, he knew these sudden tempests could be dangerous if caught in the open. It would be a cold, wet, miserable experience, and there was also the risk of being struck by lightning. Yet, it was not just for these reasons he accepted her invitation. It mainly was to remain in the company of the beautiful, intriguing Maiden and get to know her better.

The thunder spoke once more, followed by a blinding flash of light. It was unlike yellow lightning that forks down from the sky. Instead, it was pure white and came from the air around him and the Maiden. He saw behind her a shimmering entrance, and she gestured to him to follow her and stepped through. Hesitating momentarily, the youth stepped through into a strange but intensely beautiful country beyond.

The Country of the Thunder Maiden

It was a country made of clouds of ever-changing colour and varying hues, from the lightest silvery grey to the darkest purple-black, beautiful beyond the invention of the most skilled artist. The hills, woods, rivers, lakes, and landscape appeared ethereal and vaporous. Yet, the ground was solid but with a soft velvety smoothness that made walking upon it a sheer pleasure and the world in all its entirety was made of these beautiful clouds.

The Maiden was now wearing a long gown of shimmering silver, her long midnight black hair flowing down her back. Eagerly, she led the youth through the curious, exquisitely beautiful wonderland to her father, who sat on a misty, darkly purple throne. His hair was long and flowing white, like the misty trails that floated across the sky, and he wore a black robe decorated with flashes of shining gold.

He smiled them and said to the youth, “Welcome! Would you like to live among us?”

The youth looked to the Maiden and back at him and said, “Yes, Father.” 

The Thunder Country

The Thunder Father smiled gladly and consented, and the Thunder Folk accepted the youth as one of the family. Sometime later, the Maiden’s brothers, the Thunder Men, who wore great purple wings, returned home. Hearing the news, they met the youth and invited him to play a game of spheres. The spheres were black, large, and heavy and were bowled back and forth across the tops of the clouds, causing a great rolling, rumbling, sound. The Thunder Father saw the youth was athletic and good at rolling the spheres and decided he should join his sons in causing the thunder of the storms.

The following day as the Thunder Men were putting on their great purple wings, the Maiden brought a pair for the youth and a bow and arrows of burning gold. She showed him how to fasten the wings to his shoulder, and as soon as he was ready, he joined the Thunder Men, and they all flew off. The company flew across the sky, shooting golden arrows from their bows, their wings causing powerful currents. The people on Earth experienced this as a terrific gale and heard its great roaring and rushing as it raced across the Earth. The earth folk saw lightning zigzag across the sky, followed by long, rumbling, rolling thunder crashes. 

With the darkness under the black clouds, the roaring of the wind, the pelting rain and the wild thunder and lightning, people became afraid and hid. But there was no need for fear. The Thunder Father had instructed the Thunder Men to only aim their arrows at their enemy, the Great Bird of the south, saying sternly, “Do not harm the earth folk, and do not fly too low! Be sure not to harm the trees, for they are friends.”

Therefore, the Thunder Men flew over the Earth, playing their game, taking care of where they directed their golden arrows. Eventually, they tired and flew back to their cloudland home and stripped the purple wings from their backs, ate and rested until their next game. 

Moon after moon passed, and all this time, the youth had stayed with the Thunder Maiden finding exquisite pleasure in her company. He enjoyed being one of the Thunder Men and rolling the spheres across the sky. He was humbled they has so readily accepted him as a brother and grateful for their friendship, and loved and respected the Thunder Father. Above all, he deeply loved his daughter, theThunder Maiden.

Yet, despite all the happiness he had found in the country of the Thunder Family, he began to yearn to see his own family again. He missed his mother and father, brothers and sisters and the village where he was born and grew up. He missed the hunting of the deer and the smell of fire in his lodge, tinged with the aroma of roast venison. He missed the camaraderie of other warriors as they followed their chief in battle, and for all the pain and sorrow, he missed his life on Earth.

Home

Therefore, he spoke his heart to the Thunder Father, who listened carefully and weighed up the situation thoughtfully. He decided the youth should be allowed to return to Earth if that was what he genuinely wanted. So, the Thunder Maiden brought his purple wings, fastened them around his shoulders, gave him his bow and golden arrows, and kissed him goodbye.

The youth flapped his purple wings and sped off to Earth, accompanied by the Thunder Men. As they drew closer to Earth, the people covered their ears against the crashes and rumbles, closed their eyes against brilliant flashes of gold lightning, and hurried to find shelter. Looking from within at the chaos outside, they declared there had never been such a storm. 

As the Thunder Men descended to Earth, for long seconds, it seemed like the world might end, so loud and powerful was the storm. However, the Thunder Men did not linger, leaving their adopted brother on a hill and swiftly returning to the sky. Then, as suddenly as the storm had arrived, it departed. The people on Earth came out from their shelters, saw a warrior descend from the sky to a nearby hill, and began making his way to their village.

His family saw and recognized him and ran joyfully to greet him, and everyone was curious to know where he had been for so long. Therefore, the youth called them together and told of his sojourn with the Thunder Maiden and her family in the beautiful country of clouds where the Thunder Family lived.

The End

©15/04/2023 zteve t evans All rights Reserved.

References, Attributions and Further Reading

©15/04/2023 zteve t evans All rights Reserved

by

Lost Cities: Seeking Zerzuria And The Oasis Of Little Birds

Oasis in Libya – Sfivat, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

The Oasis Of Little Birds

Rumours of the lost city of Zerzura have been circulating for centuries, pointing to its existence somewhere in the Sahara Desert west of the River Nile in Egypt or Libya. The first known mention of it was by Osman al-Nabulsi, the regional administrator of the Fayyum writing in the 13th century.  He referred to is as a city, “white as a dove,” and called “The Oasis of Little Birds.”  The next known reference comes from a mysterious Arab manuscript called “The Kitab al Kanuz,” or “The Book of Hidden Pearls,” from the 15th century by an unknown author who places it vaguely somewhere in the Sahara,

 “You will find palms and vines and flowing wells. Follow the valley until you meet another valley opening west between two hills. In it, you will find a road. Follow it to the City of Zerzura. You will find its gate closed. It is a white city, like a dove. By the gate, you will find a bird sculpture. Stretch up your hand to its beak and take from it a key. Open the gate with it and enter the city. You will find much wealth and the king and queen in their place, sleeping the sleep of enchantment, but do not go near them. Take the treasure, and that is all.”

This passage alone generates a wealth of romance and mystery; even more enigmatically, scholars cannot find the book if it ever existed. Many researchers suspect the lost book, either in the form of a manuscript or idea, was the creation of Hamid Keila, who we shall meet later in this work.

There are also claims the city was guarded by black giants which may have referred the Toubou, or Tebu people, a Saharan ethnic group of nomads whose ancestors raided Saharan oases and were traditionally considered warriors and spoke the Tebu languages.  Their name means “rock people.”

The Wadee Zerzoora

John Gardner Wilkinson, an English Egyptologist in 1835, provided the first European account of Zerzura based on a report from an Arab who claimed to have found the oasis while searching for a lost camel. According to him, Zerzura lay five days west of the track between Farafra and Bahariva. He described it as abundant in palm trees and springs of water with ruined buildings nearby and called it the “Wadee Zerzoora.”  The evidence was second-hand and quite vague, and stories of several secret places in the desert had been circulating for many years.

But, once again interest grew in the legendary city. Further hope of its existence strengthened later when explorers came across an undiscovered oasis believed to be the one that the Arab had referenced in the account to Wilkinson. Nevertheless, the lost city was not found, but European explorers and adventurers continued the search for Zerzura.

Seeking Zerzura

In the twentieth century Ralph Bagnold, a British pioneer of desert exploration, took up the search. Inspired by Ahmed Hassanein’s book “Lost Oasis,” he explored a vast area from Cairo to Ain Dalla in 1929,   using three motorized vehicles.  Furthermore, between 1929 and 1930, László (Ladislaus) Almásy, a Hungarian, led an expedition in search of Zerzura using trucks. In 1933 the Almásy – Patrick Clayton expedition using airplanes, found two previously unknown valleys in a region called Gilf Kebir. He speculated these to be part of Zerzura, and possibly the third of the so-called Zerzura wadis.

In 1930, the participants of the search for Zerzura, met in a bar in Wadi Haifa and formed the Zerzura Club. Many later served as British officers in World War Two in the Long-Range Desert Patrol during the North African Campaign and remained friends. However, Almásy served the Axis powers during the war.

The Account of Hamid Keila

In 1418, scribes for the emir of Benghazi, Libya, documented the case of Hamid Keil,  a camel driver, who visited a mysterious city in the desert called Zerzura after being rescued by its inhabitants. He had been traveling in a caravan from the Nile bound for the oases of Dakhla and Khaga when they ran into a powerful sandstorm. Fortunately, He had managed to shelter under a dead camel, until the storm finally abated, to find, he found he was the only survivor. Physically weakened by the storm, confused by the changes the sandstorm had brought to the landscape, he wandered around, looking for a familiar landmark. Finally, lost and alone he  ran out of water, and became delirious.

Fortunately, a group of unknown men came across him, providing aid and taking him to their home, which they called Zerzura, situated in a valley between two mountains. Keila describes Zerzura as a white city with entry gates decorated by a carving of an unknown bird. These men were unlike others in the area, being of tall stature, with fair hair, fair complexion, and blue eyes. Furthermore, their swords were long and straight rather than curved like Arab scimitars.

Inside the gates were many women and children with fair hair, fair complexion, and blue eyes. The city had many luxurious white houses, palm trees, springs, wells, and pools. Water was plentiful and used for drinking, bathing, and washing clothes. Keila claimed the people treated him kindly and spoke a form of Arabic he was unfamiliar with but could understand with difficulty. The Zerzurans, or “El Suri” did not appear to be Muslims. There were no mosques in the city, and he never heard calls to prayer by any muezzin. Moreover, the women did not wear veils.

Eventually, Keila left Zerzura and travelled to Benghazi, where he presented himself to the emir with his story. The emir was puzzled as to why he should risk a long and arduous journey to Benghazi when the Zerzurans were well looking after him. Keila became uncomfortable with the line of questioning and told the emir he had escaped one night. 

The puzzled emir wanted to know why it was necessary to escape from people who had treated him with all benevolence. Keila was becoming increasingly uncomfortable and could not give an adequate explanation making the emir suspicious. He ordered his guards to search him, and they found a beautiful gold ring set with a ruby concealed in Keila’s clothing. 

The emir asked how Keila had come into possession of the ring, but he could not give a satisfactory answer. Although he accepted Keila met the Zerzurans and visited their city, he also believed he had stolen the ring from them or someone else. The emir condemned Keila to be taken into the desert, where his hands were severed. He was then left alone at the mercy of providence. Although the emir searched for Zerzura, he never found it.

King Idris of Libya

The ring was purportedly possessed by King Idris of Libya, who Muammar al-Gaddafi dethroned in 1969. Expert opinion had concluded that it was a highly valuable work dating to the 12th century and believed to have been of European origin. From this, people speculatively assumed that the Zerzurans were a lost army of crusaders either traveling to Jerusalem or returning from it. They had either lost their way or set up home purposely in the remoteness of the desert because, for unknown reasons, they did not want to be found.

Although much romance and mystery are attached to the legend of the lost city of Zerzura, there is extraordinarily little evidence supporting it. The existence of the ring is not substantiated, and experts consider Hamid Keila was the author of the “Kitab al Kanuz” if it had ever existed.

New Exploration and Scientific Knowledge

Nevertheless, although it has not been found or proven to have ever existed, the quest yielded a great deal of new and essential information about the region’s geography and the formation and movement of sand dunes. When Nasa managed to land a remote-controlled probe on Mars, it sent back images of dunes like those found on Earth. Therefore, they sought out Zerzura Club member, desert explorer, and geologist Ralph Bagnold, by this time 81 years old, for advice. He had extensively studied Aeolian processes, which is how wind shaped and formed the landscape, especially how it created and moved sand dunes. The  Bagnold Dunes on Mars were named after him by Nasa.

Like other quests for lost cities of gold and treasure around the world, such as El Dorado in South America and the Seven Cities of Cibola in the North American continent, Zerzura has yet to be found. Nevertheless, the quests for these fabulous cities, whether driven by greed, romanticism, or curiosity, did lead to the exploration and mapping of vast unknown territories and new scientific knowledge. In recent years archaeologists and scientists using modern technology have successfully found hidden cities, temples, roads, and other products of human activity concealed in vast tangled jungles, or underneath the sea, or in the empty deserts of the world.

Maybe, lying in wait under the shifting sands of the Sahara Desert, are the ruins of a white city with a ruined gate, where a small sculpture of a bird holds a key in its beak. Maybe the key will open the gate, and somewhere inside the city, a king and queen are still sleeping through the ages. 

© 11/01/2023 zteve t evans

References, Attributions And Further Reading

Copyright January 11, 2023 zteve t evans

by

The Legend Of Saint Boniface And The Thunder Oak And The Origin Of The Christmas Tree

National Library of Norway, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

The Christmas Tree

The Christmas tree is more than a much-loved and glittering centrepiece of festive decorations and celebrations. In the home, it is a unifying symbol the family can gather around, strengthening familial ties and a place of fun and cheer. When placed in the local community it becomes a rallying point for people to sing carols, meet, and strengthen social bonds. However, its exact origin is debated, and there are different ideas of how its importance to the festival evolved. Presented here is a retelling of how Saint Boniface introduced the fir tree into traditions and celebrations of the birth of Jesus. This tells how Saint Boniface cut down a sacred oak tree that was a prominent place of pagan worship in a place now called Hesse in Germany. Saint Boniface, also known as Winfrid or Winfred, was born c. 675 in Wessex, England and died June 5, 754, in Dokkum, Frisia, now part of the Nethererlands. He was an English Benedictine monk working to establish Christianity in Germany and the Frankish empire. At that time, in that place, people worshipped pagan gods under a sacred tree growing singularly or in groves. The tree in this legend was called the Thunder Oak and is sometimes known as the Donar Oak, Jove’s Oak, the Oak of Jupiter, and other similar terms in other myths and legends.

Legend Of The Thunder Oak

The story begins in a time long before the establishment of Christianity in the Germanic lands where a massive oak grew. It was a true giant of trees so tall its topmost branches were hidden by clouds. Its ancient body was broad and twisted from which a profusion of long, gnarled, stretching limbs spread, creating a vast overarching canopy of darkness centre around the tree. To the people of these lands, the great tree was sacred and venerated as the Thunder Oak of their great god Thor and one of the most important shrines of his cult. Yet, under the darkness of its great canopy, human victims died under the bloodied knife of the priests of Thor, their blood soaking into the ground to feed the ravenous roots of the ancient oak.

St Boniface and the Thunder Oak – Bernhard Rode, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

Even in the dead of winter, bare of leaves and acorns, the space under its vast spreading branches, clumped with mistletoe, was a place of continuous and gloomy darkness. In this dread place, an atmosphere of quiet but overwhelming fear pervaded under the great smothering branches. Animals avoided the tree, making wide detours around it, while birds would not fly near or over it or perch in its branches. Even the buzzing flies and creeping insects kept well out of the dread darkness under its canopy.

And it came to pass, one cold, white Christmas Eve, as Christians were preparing to celebrate the birth of Christ, the priests of Thor gathered under their sacred tree. They had not come to celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ or Christmas. Instead, they had come to pay homage to their god of war and thunder and witness the human sacrifice whose blood would nourish and strengthen the great tree and feed its darkness. They were joined by a great throng of their people to worship their own god, as was their tradition at this time of year.

Over the great tree rose a bright moon. The high priest chanted and made magical signs over the altar while the victim lay shivering in the cold, awaiting the stab of pain from the deadly knife that would end their life. As the high priest spread his arms out towards the Thunder Oak, his eyes adoring the sacred tree, his hand raised to strike, the air became still, all sound in the forest stopped, and silence fell. The bright moon rose to its zenith, sending her rays to find and illuminate the helpless man spread-eagled on the altar slab awaiting the stab of pain that would end their life. It never came. Instead, something extraordinary happened. As the pure rays of the brilliant moon lit the altar, the forest’s silence was broken. From the depths of the woods came the sound of Christian hymns sung by a throng of people growing louder as they drew nearer. They were led by Saint Boniface, who had come to bring Christianity and establish the church of Jesus Christ.

As the illuminating moon banished the darkness under the great Thunder Tree of Thor, Saint Boniface strode forward, wielding a shining axe. The High Priest, dagger in his hands, his raised arms poised to strike, froze. His followers parted to allow the saint to march directly up to the Thunder Oak unchallenged. Then, gathering his strength in his arms, he struck a blow that caused a great gash in the tree’s trunk with his axe. The shocked High Priest and his followers looked on in fear as he struck the oak repeatedly, causing an ever-widening gash in the its body.

Suddenly, a mighty wind swept over the forest roof, hitting the great oak with force. With an awful groan, the tree toppled backwards, crashing into the ground with such force it caused its great trunk to split into four equal portions. Behind the wreckage of the oak, a young fir tree stood, its green spire pointing the way to heaven. Dropping his axe and turning to his people, the saint pointed at the young verdant tree and joyfully cried,

“See there, the young scion of the forest, the tree of peace! See how it is shaped like a church steeple pointing to heaven. We build our houses from it to shelter us; its foliage remains evergreen. Let this tree be known as the tree of the Christ child. Let us bring it into our homes where it will encourage our loving deeds and acts of kindness and bring the peace of Jesus Christ into our hearts as we shun the wildness of the wood!”

In obedience to the saint, they took the sapling fir into their great communal meeting hall where all could see it. They abandoned the cult of Thor and the Thunder Oak and practised Christianity, and every year celebrated Christmas and the birth of Jesus Christ with a young evergreen fir tree at the centre of their home, family, and community.

© 12/12/2022 zteve t evans

References, Attributions And Further Reading

Copyright December 12th, 2022 zteve t evans