Bootoolgah the Crane and Goonur the Kangaroo Rat, the Fire Makers

Bootoolgah the crane and Goonur the kangaroo rat discovered how to make fire by rubbing sticks together, keeping their method secret to cook food privately. Suspicious of their actions, their tribe staged a grand corrobboree to distract them. Amidst the excitement, Beeargah the hawk seized their firestick, revealing the secret to all. Fire became accessible to the tribes, ending Bootoolgah and Goonur’s exclusive control.

Source
Australian Legendary Tales
collected by Mrs. K. Langloh Parker
London & Melbourne, 1896


► Themes of the story

Forbidden Knowledge: Bootoolgah and Goonur discover the method of making fire and choose to keep this knowledge hidden from their tribe, using it secretly to cook their food.

Cunning and Deception: The duo’s deliberate concealment of their fire-making ability from the rest of the tribe involves deceitful behavior to maintain their exclusive advantage.

Origin of Things: The narrative explains the origin of fire-making among the tribes, detailing how the knowledge transitioned from being a secret to common practice.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Aboriginal Australians


In the days when Bootoolgah, the crane, married Goonur, the kangaroo rat, there was no fire in their country. They had to eat their food raw or just dry it in the sun. One day when Bootoolgah was rubbing two pieces of wood together, he saw a faint spark sent forth and then a slight smoke. “Look,” he said to Goonur, “see what comes when I rub these pieces of wood together–smoke! Would it not be good if we could make fire for ourselves with which to cook our food, so as not to have to wait for the sun to dry it?”

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Goonur looked, and, seeing the smoke, she said: “Great indeed would be the day when we could make fire. Split your stick, Bootoolgah, and place in the opening bark and grass that even one spark may kindle a light.” And hearing wisdom in her words, even as she said Bootoolgah did. And lo! after much rubbing, from the opening came a small flame. For as Goonur had said it would, the spark lit the grass, the bark smouldered and smoked, and so Bootoolgah the crane, and Goonur the kangaroo rat, discovered the art of fire making.

“This we will keep secret,” they said, “from all the tribes. When we make a fire to cook our fish we will go into a Bingahwingul scrub. There we will make a fire and cook our food in secret. We will hide our firesticks in the openmouthed seeds of the Bingahwinguls; one firestick we will carry always hidden in our comebee.”

Bootoolgah and Goonur cooked the next fish they caught, and found it very good. When they went back to the camp they took some of their cooked fish with them. The blacks noticed it looked quite different from the usual sun-dried fish, so they asked: “What did you to that fish?”

“Let it lie in the sun,” said they.

“Not so,” said the others.

But that the fish was sun-dried Bootoolgah and Goonur persisted. Day by day passed, and after catching their fish, these two always disappeared, returning with their food looking quite different from that of the others. At last, being unable to extract any information from them, it was determined by the tribe to watch them. Boolooral, the night owl, and Quarrian, the parrot, were appointed to follow the two when they disappeared, to watch where they went, and find out what they did. Accordingly, after the next fish were caught, when Bootoolgah and Goonur gathered up their share and started for the bush, Boolooral and Quarrian followed on their tracks. They saw them disappear into a Bingahwingul scrub, where they lost sight of them. Seeing a high tree on the edge of the scrub, they climbed up it, and from there they saw all that was to be seen. They saw Bootoolgah and Goonur throw down their load of fish, open their comebee and take from it a stick, which stick, when they had blown upon it, they laid in the midst of a heap of leaves and twigs, and at once from this heap they saw a flame leap, which flame the fire makers fed with bigger sticks. Then, as the flame died down, they saw the two place their fish in the ashes that remained from the burnt sticks. Then back to the camp of their tribes went Boolooral and Quarrian, back with the news of their discovery. Great was the talk amongst the blacks, and many the queries as to how to get possession of the comebee with the fire stick in it, when next Bootoolgah and Goonur came into the camp. It was at length decided to hold a corrobboree, and it was to be one on a scale not often seen, probably never before by the young of the tribes. The grey beards proposed to so astonish Bootoolgah and Goonur as to make them forget to guard their precious comebee. As soon as they were intent on the corrobboree and off guard, some one was to seize the comebee, steal the firestick and start fires for the good of all. Most of them had tasted the cooked fish brought into the camp by the fire makers and, having found it good, hungered for it. Beeargah, the hawk, was told to feign sickness, to tie up his head, and to lie down near wherever the two sat to watch the corrobboree. Lying near them, he was to watch them all the time, and when they were laughing and unthinking of anything but the spectacle before them, he was to steal the comebee. Having arranged their plan of action, they all prepared for a big corrobboree. They sent word to all the surrounding tribes, asking them to attend, especially they begged the Bralgahs to come, as they were celebrated for their wonderful dancing, which was so wonderful as to be most likely to absorb the attention of the firemakers.

All the tribes agreed to come, and soon all were engaged in great preparations. Each determined to outdo the other in the quaintness and brightness of their painting for the corrobboree. Each tribe as they arrived gained great applause; never before had the young people seen so much diversity in colouring and design. Beeleer, the Black Cockatoo tribe, came with bright splashes of orange-red on their black skins. The Pelicans came as a contrast, almost pure white, only a touch here and there of their black skin showing where the white paint had rubbed off. The Black Divers came in their black skins, but these polished to shine like satin. Then came the Millears, the beauties of the Kangaroo Rat family, who had their home on the morillas. After them came the Buckandeer or Native Cat tribe, painted in dull colours, but in all sorts of patterns. Mairas or Paddymelons came too in haste to take part in the great corrobboree. After them, walking slowly, came the Bralgahs, looking tall and dignified as they held up their red heads, painted so in contrast to their French-grey bodies, which they deemed too dull a colour, unbrightened, for such a gay occasion. Amongst the many tribes there, too numerous to mention, were the rose and grey painted Galabs, the green and crimson painted Billai; most brilliant were they with their bodies grass green and their sides bright crimson, so afterwards gaining them the name of crimson wings. The bright little Gidgereegahs came too.

Great was the gathering that Bootoolgah, the crane, and Goonur, the kangaroo rat, found assembled as they hurried on to the scene. Bootoolgah had warned Goonur that they must only be spectators, and take no active part in the corrobboree, as they had to guard their combee. Obedient to his advice, Goonur seated herself beside him and slung the comebee over her arm. Bootoolgah warned her to be careful and not forget she had it. But as the corrobboree went on, so absorbed did she become that she forgot the comebee, which slipped from her arm. Happily, Bootoolgah saw it do so, replaced it, and bade her take heed, so baulking Beeargah, who had been about to seize it, for his vigilance was unceasing, and, deeming him sick almost unto death, the two whom lie was watching took no heed of him. Back he crouched, moaning as he turned, but keeping ever an eye on Goonur. And soon was he rewarded. Now came the turn of the Bralgahs to dance, and every eye but that of the watchful one was fixed on them as slowly they came into the ring. First they advanced, bowed and retired, then they repeated what they had done before, and again, each time getting faster and faster in their movements, changing their bows into pirouettes, craning their long necks and making such antics as they went through the figures of their dance, and replacing their dignity with such grotesqueness, as to make their large audience shake with laughter, they themselves keeping throughout all their grotesque measures a solemn air, which only seemed to heighten the effect of their antics.

And now came the chance of Beeargah the hawk. In the excitement of the moment Goonur forgot the comebee, as did Bootoolgah. They joined in the mirthful applause of the crowd, and Goonur threw herself back helpless with laughter. As she did so the comebee slipped from her arm. Then up jumped the sick man from behind her, seized the comebee with his combo, cut it open, snatched forth the firestick, set fire to the heap of grass ready near where he had lain, and all before the two realised their loss. When they discovered the precious comebee was gone, up jumped Bootoolgah and Goonur. After Beeargah ran Bootoolgah, but Beeargah had a start and was fleeter of foot, so distanced his pursuer quickly. As he ran he fired the grass with the stick he still held. Bootoolgah, finding he could not catch Beeargah, and seeing fires everywhere, retired from the pursuit, feeling it was useless now to try and guard their secret, for it had now become the common property of all the tribes there assembled.


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Gooloo the Magpie, and the Wahroogah

Gooloo, an old and wicked woman, deceives a tribe of women into leaving their children in her care while they gather food. Once the mothers depart, she abducts the children, locking them in her hidden home. The mothers return to an empty camp, their children missing. Despite hearing distant cries, neither they nor the men can find them, leaving the tribe mourning their loss and regretting their trust in Gooloo.

Source
Australian Legendary Tales
collected by Mrs. K. Langloh Parker
London & Melbourne, 1896


► Themes of the story

Cunning and Deception: Gooloo deceives the mothers by persuading them to leave their children in her care, only to abduct them once the mothers depart.

Family Dynamics: The narrative centers on the relationship between the mothers and their children, highlighting the trust placed in caregivers and the devastating impact of betrayal on familial bonds.

Moral Lessons: The tale imparts a cautionary message about the dangers of misplaced trust and the importance of vigilance in protecting one’s family.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Aboriginal Australians


Gooloo was a very old woman, and a very wicked old woman too, as this story will tell. During all the past season, when the grass was thick with seed, she had gathered much doonburr, which she crushed into meal as she wanted it for food. She used to crush it on a big flat stone with small flat stones–the big stone was called a dayoorl. Gooloo ground a great deal of the doonburr seed to put away for immediate use, the rest she kept whole, to be ground as required.

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Soon after she had finished her first grinding, a neighbouring tribe came along and camped near where she was. One day the men all went out hunting, leaving the women and the children in the camp. After the men had been gone a little while, Gooloo the magpie came to their camp to talk to the women. She said, “Why do you not go hunting too? Many are the nests of the wurranunnahs round here, and thick is the honey in them. Many and ripe are the bumbles hanging now on the humble trees; red is the fruit of the grooees, and opening with ripeness the fruit of the guiebets. Yet you sit in the camp and hunger, until your husbands return with the dinewan and bowrah they have gone forth to slay. Go, women, and gather of the plenty that surrounds you. I will take care of your children, the little Wahroogabs.”

“Your words are wise,” the women said. “It is foolish to sit here and hunger, when near at hand yams are thick in the ground, and many fruits wait but the plucking. We will go and fill quickly our comebees and goolays, but our children we will take with us.”

“Not so,” said Gooloo, “foolish indeed were you to do that. You would tire the little feet of those that run, and tire yourselves with the burden of those that have to be carried. No, take forth your comebees and goolays empty, that ye may bring back the more. Many are the spoils that wait only the hand of the gatherer. Look ye, I have a durrie made of fresh doonburr seed, cooking just now on that bark between two fires; that shall your children eat, and swiftly shall I make them another. They shall eat and be full ere their mothers are out of sight. See, they come to me now, they hunger for durrie, and well will I feed them. Haste ye then, that ye may return in time to make ready the fires for cooking the meat your husbands will bring. Glad will your husbands be when they see that ye have filled your goolays and comebees with fruits, and your wirrees with honey. Haste ye, I say, and do well.”

Having listened to the words of Gooloo, the women decided to do as she said, and, leaving their children with her, they started forth with empty comebees, and armed with combos, with which to chop out the bees’ nests and opossums, and with yam sticks to dig up yams.

When the women had gone, Gooloo gathered the children round her and fed them with durrie, hot from the coals. Honey, too, she gave them, and bumbles which she had buried to ripen. When they had eaten, she hurried them off to her real home, built in a hollow tree, a little distance away from where she had been cooking her durrie. Into her house she hurriedly thrust them, followed quickly herself, and made all secure. Here she fed them again, but the children had already satisfied their hunger, and now they missed their mothers and began to cry. Their crying reached the ears of the women as they were returning to their camp. Quickly they came at the sound which is not good in a mother’s ears. As they quickened their steps they thought how soon the spoils that lay heavy in their comebees would comfort their children. And happy they, the mothers, would feel when they fed the Wahroogahs with the dainties they had gathered for them. Soon they reached the camp, but, alas! where were their children? And where was Gooloo the magpie?

“They are playing wahgoo,” they said, “and have hidden themselves.”

The mothers hunted all round for them, and called aloud the names of their children and Gooloo. But no answer could they hear and no trace could they find. And yet every now and then they heard the sound of children wailing. But seek as they would they found them not. Then loudly wailed the mothers themselves for their lost Wahroogahs, and, wailing, returned to the camp to wait the coming of the black fellows. Heavy were their hearts, and sad were their faces when their husbands returned. They hastened to tell the black fellows when they came, how Gooloo had persuaded them to go hunting, promising if they did so that she would feed the hungry Wahroogahs, and care for them while they were away, but–and here they wailed again for their poor Wahroogahs. They told how they had listened to her words and gone; truth had she told of the plenty round, their comebees and goolays were full of fruits and spoils they had gathered, but, alas! they came home with them laden only to find their children gone and Gooloo gone too. And no trace could they find of either, though at times they heard a sound as of children wailing.

Then wroth were the men, saying: “What mothers are ye to leave your young to a stranger, and that stranger a Gooloo, ever a treacherous race? Did we not go forth to gain food for you and our children? Saw ye ever your husbands return from the chase empty handed? Then why, when ye knew we were gone hunting, must ye too go forth and leave our helpless ones to a stranger? Oh, evil, evil indeed is the time that has come when a mother forgets her child. Stay ye in the camp while we go forth to hunt for our lost Wahroogahs. Heavy will be our hands on the women if we return without them.”

The men hunted the bush round for miles, but found no trace of the lost Wahroogahs, though they too heard at times a noise as of children’s voices wailing.

But beyond the wailing which echoed in the mothers’ ears for ever, no trace was found of the children. For many days the women sat in the camp mourning for their lost Wahroogahs, and beating their heads because they had listened to the voice of Gooloo.


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Dinewan the Emu, and Goomblegubbon the Bustard

The story of Dinewan, the emu, and Goomblegubbon, the bustard, highlights themes of jealousy, trickery, and revenge. Goomblegubbon envies Dinewan’s supremacy and deceives her into sacrificing her wings. In retaliation, Dinewan tricks Goomblegubbon into killing her offspring. The tale explains why emus are flightless and bustards lay only two eggs, symbolizing the consequences of deceit and envy.

Source
Australian Legendary Tales
collected by Mrs. K. Langloh Parker
London & Melbourne, 1896


► Themes of the story

Cunning and Deception: Goomblegubbon deceives Dinewan into cutting off her wings by pretending to have none herself, aiming to undermine Dinewan’s supremacy.

Revenge and Justice: After realizing the deception, Dinewan seeks revenge by tricking Goomblegubbon into killing her own offspring, leading to a cycle of retribution between them.

Transformation: The tale explains the transformation of the emu into a flightless bird and the bustard’s behavior of laying only two eggs, attributing these characteristics to the consequences of their actions.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Aboriginal Australians


Dinewan the emu, being the largest bird, was acknowledged as king by the other birds. The Goomblegubbons, the bustards, were jealous of the Dinewans. Particularly was Goomblegubbon, the mother, jealous of the Diriewan mother. She would watch with envy the high flight of the Dinewans, and their swift running. And she always fancied that the Dinewan mother flaunted her superiority in her face, for whenever Dinewan alighted near Goomblegubbon, after a long, high flight, she would flap her big wings and begin booing in her pride, not the loud booing of the male bird, but a little, triumphant, satisfied booing noise of her own, which never failed to irritate Goomblegubbon when she heard it.

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Goomblegubbon used to wonder how she could put an end to Dinewan’s supremacy. She decided that she would only be able to do so by injuring her wings and checking her power of flight. But the question that troubled her was how to effect this end. She knew she would gain nothing by having a quarrel with Dinewan and fighting her, for no Goomblegubbon would stand any chance against a Dinewan, There was evidently nothing to be gained by an open fight. She would have to effect her end by cunning.

One day, when Goomblegubbon saw in the distance Dinewan coming towards her, she squatted down and doubled in her wings in such a way as to look as if she had none. After Dinewan had been talking to her for some time, Goomblegubbon said: “Why do you not imitate me and do without wings? Every bird flies. The Dinewans, to be the king of birds, should do without wings. When all the birds see that I can do without wings, they will think I am the cleverest bird and they will make a Goomblegubbon king.”

“But you have wings,” said Dinewan.

“No, I have no wings.” And indeed she looked as if her words were true, so well were her wings hidden, as she squatted in the grass. Dinewan went away after awhile, and thought much of what she had heard. She talked it all over with her mate, who was as disturbed as she was. They made up their minds that it would never do to let the Goomblegubbons reign in their stead, even if they had to lose their wings to save their kingship.

At length they decided on the sacrifice of their wings. The Dinewan mother showed the example by persuading her mate to cut off hers with a combo or stone tomahawk, and then she did the same to his. As soon as the operations were over, the Dinewan mother lost no time in letting Goomblegubbon know what they had done. She ran swiftly down to the plain on which she had left Goomblegubbon, and, finding her still squatting there, she said: “See, I have followed your example. I have now no wings. They are cut off.”

“Ha! ha! ha!” laughed Goomblegubbon, jumping up and dancing round with joy at the success of her plot. As she danced round, she spread out her wings, flapped them, and said: “I have taken you in, old stumpy wings. I have my wings yet. You are fine birds, you Dinewans, to be chosen kings, when you are so easily taken in. Ha! ha! ha!” And, laughing derisively, Goomblegubbon flapped her wings right in front of Dinewan, who rushed towards her to chastise her treachery. But Goomblegubbon flew away, and, alas! the now wingless Dinewan could not follow her.

Brooding over her wrongs, Dinewan walked away, vowing she would be revenged. But how? That was the question which she and her mate failed to answer for some time. At length the Dinewan mother thought of a plan and prepared at once to execute it. She hid all her young Dinewans but two, under a big salt bush. Then she walked off to Goomblegubbons’ plain with the two young ones following her. As she walked off the morilla ridge, where her home was, on to the plain, she saw Goomblegubbon out feeding with her twelve young ones.

After exchanging a few remarks in a friendly manner with Goomblegubbon, she said to her, “Why do you not imitate me and only have two children? Twelve are too many to feed. If you keep so many they will never grow big birds like the Dinewans. The food that would make big birds of two would only starve twelve.” Goomblegubbon said nothing, but she thought it might be so. It was impossible to deny that the young Dinewans were much bigger than the young Goomblegubbons, and, discontentedly, Goomblegubbon walked away, wondering whether the smallness of her young ones was owing to the number of them being so much greater than that of the Dinewans. It would be grand, she thought, to grow as big as the Dinewans. But she remembered the trick she had played on Dinewan, and she thought that perhaps she was being fooled in her turn. She looked back to where the Dinewans fed, and as she saw how much bigger the two young ones were than any of hers, once more mad envy of Dinewan possessed her. She determined she would not be outdone. Rather would she kill all her young ones but two. She said, “The Dinewans shall not be the king birds of the plains. The Goomblegubbons shall replace them. They shall grow as big as the Dinewans, and shall keep their wings and fly, which now the Dinewans cannot do.” And straightway Goomblegubbon killed all her young ones but two. Then back she came to where the Dinewans were still feeding. When Dinewan saw her coming and noticed she had only two young ones with her, she called out: “Where are all your young ones?”

Goomblegubbon answered, “I have killed them, and have only two left. Those will have plenty to eat now, and will soon grow as big as your young ones.”

“You cruel mother to kill your children. You greedy mother. Why, I have twelve children and I find food for them all. I would not kill one for anything, not even if by so doing I could get back my wings. There is plenty for all. Look at the emu bush how it covers itself with berries to feed my big family. See how the grasshoppers come hopping round, so that we can catch them and fatten on them.”

“But you have only two children.”

“I have twelve. I will go and bring them to show you.” Dinewan ran off to her salt bush where she had hidden her ten young ones. Soon she was to be seen coming back. Running with her neck stretched forward, her head thrown back with pride, and the feathers of her boobootella swinging as she ran, booming out the while her queer throat noise, the Dinewan song of joy, the pretty, soft-looking little ones with their zebra-striped skins, running beside her whistling their baby Dinewan note. When Dinewan reached the place where Goomblegubbon was, she stopped her booing and said in a solemn tone, “Now you see my words are true, I have twelve young ones, as I said. You can gaze at my loved ones and think of your poor murdered children. And while you do so I will tell you the fate of your descendants for ever. By trickery and deceit you lost the Dinewans their wings, and now for evermore, as long as a Dinewan has no wings, so long shall a Goomblegubbon lay only two eggs and have only two young ones. We are quits now. You have your wings and I my children.”

And ever since that time a Dinewan, or emu, has had no wings, and a Goomblegubbon, or bustard of the plains, has laid only two eggs in a season.


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Story of the fox and the wolf

This is the usual Old World story telling how Fox pretended to fish through a hole in the ice, and then tempted Wolf to do the same: wolf lost his tail in the Ice. Fox feigned death, and was picked up by a passing farmer, etc. I give here only an episode which seems of local character.

Source
Tales of Yukaghir, Lamut, and Russianized Natives of Eastern Siberia
by Waldemar Bogoras
The American Museum of Natural History
Anthropological Papers, Vol. 20, Part 1

New York, 1918


► Themes of the story

Cunning and Deception: The narrative centers on the fox’s use of deceit to achieve her goals.

Conflict with Nature: The characters’ interactions with natural elements, such as the icy environment, play a significant role in the tale.

Moral Lessons: The story imparts lessons about the consequences of deceit and gullibility.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Chuvan people


Told by Mary Alin, a Russianized Chuvantzi woman. Recorded by Mrs. Sophie Bogoras in the village of Markova, the Anadyr country, winter of 1900.

The man pursued Fox with dogs, but Fox succeeded in plunging into the nest of a polar Owl. [Some of the nests of these large owls are said to be placed within hollow trunks of trees, or among piles of driftwood which are found at certain places all along the arctic coast.] The man chopped at the trunk with his heavy ax.

“O gossip! I want to fly out.”

“Ah, gossip! do as if you have too; but before doing so please pass water upon my neck,” said the Fox.

Owl passed water upon Fox’s neck. When the man caught Fox by the neck, she slipped out of his fingers and ran off. The dogs followed her. She ran to and fro, until she was tired.

Then she called to Owl, “O gossip! teach me how to fly.”

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“All right! Sit down on my back!”

The owl alighted and carried off Fox. They flew up high into the air.

“Oh dear!” said Fox. “I know how to fly, but I do not know how to alight.”

Owl pretended to throw her down. “O Lord! let it be upon the moss! O God! let it be upon a soft place!”

Owl threw her down and Fox was killed.


Running and expanding this site requires resources: from maintaining our digital platform to sourcing and curating new content. With your help, we can grow our collection, improve accessibility, and bring these incredible narratives to an even wider audience. Your sponsorship enables us to keep the world’s stories alive and thriving. ♦ Visit our Support page

Story of heretics with iron teeth

Three brothers, married to three sisters, go to check their traps, leaving their wives and children behind. The middle sister repeatedly claims their husbands are returning early, but the others dismiss her. When the men arrive, the youngest sister notices their unusually black teeth, which grow long and sharp. She flees, lures one man into a trap, and kills him. When the men search, they find the women gone, and the fate of the captives remains unknown.

Source
Tales of Yukaghir, Lamut, and Russianized Natives of Eastern Siberia
by Waldemar Bogoras
The American Museum of Natural History
Anthropological Papers, Vol. 20, Part 1

New York, 1918


► Themes of the story

Cunning and Deception: The youngest sister employs clever tactics to deceive and ultimately defeat the heretic, showcasing her resourcefulness in a perilous situation.

Family Dynamics: The narrative centers on the relationships between the three sisters and their husbands, highlighting trust, communication, and the protective instincts that arise in times of danger.

Moral Lessons: The tale imparts lessons on vigilance, quick thinking, and the importance of trusting one’s instincts when faced with unfamiliar or threatening situations.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Chuvan people


Told by Mary Alin, a Russianized Chuvantzi woman. Recorded by Mrs. Sophie Bogoras, in the village of Markova, the Anadyr country, winter of 1900.

There were three brothers who were married to three sisters. The oldest brother was married to the eldest sister, the middle brother to the middle sister, and the youngest brother to the youngest sister. When fall came, they set off to examine their deadfalls. Their wives and children stayed alone in their settlement.

The eldest sister had three children, the middle sister, had only one, and the youngest, none at all.

One day the middle sister, who had been outside, came back saying, “Our husbands are coming home.”

The other said, “Why, it is too early. You are mistaken.” She ran out again, and instantly came back: “Our husbands are coming home.” So the others were quite angry. “Stop talking! Nobody is coming. It is sinful to talk such nonsense.”

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But she would not obey, and repeated the same thing. In the evening, after sunset, they heard the rattling of runners and the yelping of dogs. Sleigh-bells jingled merrily, and voices rang with laughter. Their husbands were coming back from the forest. Oh, they felt quite joyful, and busied themselves getting supper ready. The eldest sister prepared tea for them; the middle sister brought in plenty of meat, and cooked the meal; the youngest sister had nothing particular to do. She looked at them from the sleeping compartment through a chink in the partition. All at once she noticed that the teeth of the men were quite black.

She was astonished, and said to the middle sister, “Ah! sister dear, why is it that our husbands have such black teeth?”

“Oh, don’t!” retorted the other one. “They are our own husbands. What can we say about their teeth. Maybe they have eaten some blackberries in the forest.”

“It is cold weather now. There are no blackberries.”

“Perhaps you gave them burnt meat.”

“It is you who gave them meat, and it was juicy and not burnt.”

“Or perhaps it is because they have iron teeth.”

At this time, the teeth of the men were half a foot long. They protruded from their mouths, sharp-edged, and bright like so many daggers. The youngest sister rushed out of the house.

“Catch her, catch her!” cried the middle sister, but she was gone.

She ran through the dense forest straight on, like a frightened doe; and in the end when she could run no more, she stopped at a small opening and started a fire. She found the stump of a tree that was similar to her in bulk and size. She cut it off and put it near the fire. She took off her clothes and wrapped them around the stump. She also put her cap on it. Then she took a stake as strong as a spear shaft and burnt its point in the fire until it became hard and sharp. With this wooden spear she concealed herself behind a bush. Oh! a noise was heard in the forest, a gnashing of teeth, and cracking of branches, which snapped off and fell down. It was the heretic coming in pursuit of her. He rushed toward the fire, and with his terrible jaws he instantly seized the stump about the middle. His iron teeth stuck in the wood and he could not disengage himself. The woman sprang from the bush and stabbed him from behind with her wooden lance. The burnt point entered his anus and came out at the mouth. He was there like a fish on a roasting rod. She ran the other end of the stake deep into the ground, and left him there. She was afraid to return home, and went to another settlement not far away. When she had told her story the men took their spears and axes and went in search of the monsters. When they came to the house, the heretics had gone. The women and children had also gone. They looked for the bones, supposing that the monsters might have eaten the people, but they found nothing: It is not known what they did to their captives. Perhaps they carried the women away and married them. The real husbands of the women came home after a week, but their house was empty.

The end.


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 Story of Magus

Magus had four sons with strange characteristics. After an elk hunt, two sons die from accidents while fetching water, the third while handling the elk’s brisket, and the fourth while cooking the meat. Magus, now alone, travels and kills the children of an evil spirit named Kosetoka. Kosetoka, enraged, attacks Magus, but the latter outwits him, using a trick to kill the spirit. Magus returns home victorious.

Source
Tales of Yukaghir, Lamut, and Russianized Natives of Eastern Siberia
by Waldemar Bogoras
The American Museum of Natural History
Anthropological Papers, Vol. 20, Part 1

New York, 1918


► Themes of the story

Family Dynamics: The narrative centers on Magus and his four sons, highlighting their unique characteristics and the tragic events leading to their demise.

Cunning and Deception: Magus employs clever tactics to deceive and ultimately defeat Kosetoka, showcasing the use of intelligence over brute force.

Revenge and Justice: Following the loss of his sons, Magus embarks on a journey that leads to the defeat of Kosetoka, symbolizing a form of personal renewal and triumph over adversity.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Chuvan people


Told by Mary Alin, a Russianized Chuvantzi woman. Recorded by Mrs. Sophie Bogoras in the village of Markova, the Anadyr country, winter of 1900.

There was a man, Magus by name. He had four sons. One of them had legs of grass, another a head of bladder, the third a brisket of leaves, the fourth a voice of hair. Magus said to his sons, “Children! let us go and hunt elks!” They killed a big elk and carried it home. Magus said to the elder sons, “You, Legs-of-Grass I and you, Head-of-Bladder! — go and bring some water from the river.”

They went to the river and put the water tub near the water-hole; but they were so slow in filling it with water, that it was frozen to the moist ice. They tugged at it, but could not move it. Then Legs-of-Grass kicked it with his foot. He broke both of his legs and was dead. Head-of-Bladder was much troubled, and scratched his head. His nails cut through the bladder, and he dropped down dead. The other ones waited and waited, but nobody came: so they went to the river, and found the two dead.

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“Ah!” said their father, “let us arrange their funeral! We will cook a funeral meal. Brisket-of-Leaves go and bring the elk’s brisket from the drying-poles.” He wanted to take it down, but it slipped from his hands and fell down upon his own brisket and smashed it. He also dropped down dead. “Ah, woe! what is to be done?” — “Now, you must go, Voice-of-Hair, and fetch that brisket.” Voice-of-Hair brought it and cooked it; but when he was tasting the meat, his throat of hair burst open, and he died. So Magus remained alone.

“Now, I will depart from here. I will go traveling.” He walked on for several days and came to Kosetoka. The evil spirit was not at home: only his children were there. He killed them all, and cut off their heads. Then he spread a large blanket, and set the heads close to it, in a row. It looked as if they were asleep side by side under the blanket. He also took a large bag and filled it with their meat and bones. He wrapped the bag in his own overcoat, and attached his cap to one end of it. Kosetoka went home carrying some human carrion as food for his children. “Ah!” said he, “they waited so long that they have fallen asleep.” He made a fire and cooked the meat; but when he tugged at the blanket, the heads rolled off and out of the house. Kosetoka was wild with anger. “Who has done this?” He looked about and saw the bag. “Ah! it was you, Magus! it was you!” He rushed at the bag and trampled it down with his heavy feet. All the bones broke, and the blood of the children spurted through the holes. “I have killed YOU!” shouted the spirit; but from underground a voice answered, “I am here.” It was Magus, who had found the underground storehouse and entered it, blocking the entrance behind him. “Ah! where are you?” — “I am here.” The spirit ran out of the house and back again. The entrance was blocked; but he found a round hole, and tried to squeeze himself through it. His body was tightly wedged in and could move neither forward nor backward. Magus said, “O hole! you are round and tight, turn now into a circular knife and cut Kosetoka in halves.” And thus it happened. He took everything he found, and went home.


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A Markova tale

A shaman visited a village where people mysteriously vanished nightly. Keeping watch, he discovered a black dog attacking a man, severing his arm. The shaman killed the dog, accidentally attaching its limb—revealed to be a woman’s arm—to the man. Tracking the dog’s trail, he uncovered the village priest’s wife as the culprit, who had been using dark magic to destroy the villagers. She was executed for her deeds.

Source
Tales of Yukaghir, Lamut, and Russianized Natives of Eastern Siberia
by Waldemar Bogoras
The American Museum of Natural History
Anthropological Papers, Vol. 20, Part 1

New York, 1918


► Themes of the story

Supernatural Beings: The narrative features a shaman and a woman capable of transforming into a black dog, indicating interactions with supernatural entities.

Cunning and Deception: The priest’s wife deceives the villagers by secretly transforming into a dog to harm them, highlighting themes of deceit.

Divine Punishment: The shaman uncovers the priest’s wife’s malevolent actions and ensures she faces retribution for her transgressions.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Chuvan people


Told by Mary Alin, a Russianized Chuvantzi woman. Recorded by Mrs. Sophie Bogoras, in the village of Markova, the Anadyr country, winter of 1900.

The people of a village began to vanish, and nobody knew what happened to them. There was a shaman. He traveled through that country and came to the village. The people were quite sad and sorrowful. “What is the matter with you?” — “We do not know. Every night somebody vanished. We have tried to watch, but cannot discover anybody.” — “Oh, is that so? Let me try to keep watch over you.” Evening came, and it was time to go to sleep. The people were hiding in boxes and bags. “Oh, have no fear! I shall keep a vigilant watch over you.” He took a sword and waited in the darkness. The people snored soundly, partly freed from their fear. All at once a black dog glided noiselessly in through the window and seized a workman, a fellow-traveler of the shaman. He struck the dog with his sword. The dog had torn off the man’s one arm with the shoulder blade, and the shaman cut off the corresponding limb of the dog. In the hurry of the moment, the shaman took the limb of the dog and applied it to the body of the man, and it stuck to his body.

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In the morning he saw that the new arm was not the leg of a dog, but a woman’s arm, white of skin and with rings on the fingers. “Ah!” said the shaman, “let me try to find that dog.” He went out and followed the bloody tracks. They led to the house of the chief of the village close to the church. It was the house of the parish priest. The shaman entered, and saluted the priest with civility. The priest looked sad, “Ah, my friend! please sit down! I am not able to treat you as is becoming. My wife is sick.” — “Ah, is that so! And what is the cause of her suffering?” — “We do not know. She is alone in her room and does not want us to enter. All we know is that she is not well. Please do help her if you can!” The shaman went to the room of the patient. The entrance was locked; he said nothing and suddenly broke the door and entered.

The woman was lying on the bed well wrapped up in a thick blanket. He pulled that off, and she lay before them quite naked. Her right arm was gone, along with the shoulder blade. Close to her side lay the bloody arm of a man, which would not stick to her body. “Ah, here you are!” said the shaman. “Reverend father, it is your wife who destroyed half of the village. Had it not been for me, she would have taken you also.” — “Ah, ah!” exclaimed the priest, “Mother what is the matter with you. Now, I understand it. She would give me of her enchanted drink, so that I slept throughout the night like one dead, and she would steal away in the darkness.” So they took her and tore her in two.


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Story about Kundirik

An old couple prayed for a child and named him Kundirik. After a bear demanded the boy as ransom, Kundirik cleverly escaped, killing the bear. He later encountered a man and his three daughters, casting a spell to discipline the rude girls. Marrying the youngest daughter, Kundirik reunited his impoverished parents with his wealthy in-laws, securing a better life for them all.

Source
Tales of Yukaghir, Lamut, and Russianized Natives of Eastern Siberia
by Waldemar Bogoras
The American Museum of Natural History
Anthropological Papers, Vol. 20, Part 1

New York, 1918


► Themes of the story

Cunning and Deception: Kundirik employs clever tactics to outsmart the bear and later uses a spell to discipline the rude daughters.

Trials and Tribulations: Kundirik faces multiple challenges, including escaping from the bear and dealing with the ill-mannered daughters, demonstrating resilience.

Transformation through Love: Kundirik’s marriage to the youngest daughter leads to a positive change in circumstances for his impoverished parents, showcasing how love and union can bring about transformation.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Chuvan people


Told by Barbara Karyakin, a Russian creole woman, at Marinsky Post, the Anadyr country, fall of 1900.

There was an old man with an old woman. One time they prayed to God, asking Him to give them a child. God granted their prayer, and they had a son.

The old woman said, “What name shall we give to the boy?”

“Ah!” said the old man, “let us call him Kundirik.”

The old man went to hunt wild reindeer. When on the way, a bear attacked him and wanted to kill him.

“O grandfather! spare me!”

“Unless you promise to give me your son Kundirik, I shall kill all of you.”

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He promised to give him the boy and the bear let him go. The old woman saw him come covered with blood: „Ah!” cried she, „My husband is bringing reindeer meat!”

“Do not make so much noise! It is my own blood. The grandfather wanted to kill me. O wife! he asked for our little Kundirik. Otherwise he said he should come and kill all of us.”

The old woman cried much, then she prepared some dolls for the boy. She put him on the window sill, and put the dolls by his side. Then they left the house and departed forever. The Bear came, and entered. “Kundirik, where are you?”

“I am here, outside, playing with dolls.”

The Bear went out. “Kundirik, where are you?”

“I am here, within, playing with the dolls.”

He was on the window sill, now within, and now outside. The Bear broke down the wooden wall and seized Kundirik.

“When we were traveling, father and I, he used to carry me on his shoulders.”

So the Bear put the boy on his shoulders and walked along. They came to a big hole in the ground. Two poles of aspen wood were protruding from it, and a sleeping place made of green branches was arranged on them.

“This is our sleeping place,” said the boy. “We used to sleep here, father in the hole, and I on the branches.”

The Bear entered the hole, and immediately went to sleep. The boy gathered a number of heavy stones and brought them all to the edge of the hole.

“Bear, Bear! are you sleeping?”

“Yes, I am. And are you?”

“I am not. My stomach is aching. I am afraid. I am going to defecate stones.”

Then he pushed the stones, and they fell down and hit the Bear. He was squeezed down, and his bowels came out of his belly.

“Kundirik, Kundirik, help me get out! I will take you to your father and mother.”

“No, I am afraid you will eat me up.”

And the Bear died.

Kundirik left him and went away. He saw a house and entered. In this house lived a man and his three daughters. The father awakened the daughters.

“Get up, daughters! A stranger has come. Give him food and drink.”

“Ah! let him look for it himself!”

He refused to do so, but went out of the house and said softly, “Kundirik! let those girls’ buttocks stick firmly to the flooring!”

In the morning the girls wanted to get up, but the boards of the flooring were lifted along with them.

“Ah!” said the father, “Something has happened. Go and fetch my old mother. She will give me counsel.”

Kundirik went to the old woman, who lived far off, and asked her to come.

“Ah!” said the old woman, “you must first help me with my wraps.” He wrapped her up. “Now you must help me to my sledge.” So he carried her to the sledge. They departed. After a while she said, “Kundirik, now help me defecate.” He put her down and took off some of her wraps. “Kundirik, now help me wipe my anus.”

“There is a horse,” said Kundirik, “go to him, he will clean you.” She approached the horse. The horse seized her naked buttocks with his teeth and tore her in two. Out of her lacerated anus came a quantity of mice, ermine, spermophile, toads, grubs.

Kundirik went to the old man, and said, “The old woman died on the way. She was indeed too old.”

The old man said to him, “Please find help for us if you can!”

Kundirik promised to do so. He went out of the house, and called aloud, “Kundirik! let these girls be detached from the flooring!” He went back and said, “Get up!” and they were free.

They gave him the youngest daughter in marriage. He took her along and went home. His father and mother were living in a small hut. A small fire was burning in this house. A small tea kettle was bubbling over the fire. His parents were full of joy, but he only knit his brows and said nothing. The same day he went back to his father-in-law, who was much better off than his own people. He slept there.

In the morning he went out and called aloud, “Kundirik! let my father and mother come over here!”

And there they were. After a while his father-in-law also went out and saw the new house. “Ah, ah!” said he, “some new people have come here, together with their house.”

The end.


Running and expanding this site requires resources: from maintaining our digital platform to sourcing and curating new content. With your help, we can grow our collection, improve accessibility, and bring these incredible narratives to an even wider audience. Your sponsorship enables us to keep the world’s stories alive and thriving. ♦ Visit our Support page

A Markova tale

Three brothers—Grass-Leg, Bladder, and Little-Finger—face tragic misfortunes while eating blood soup. Little-Finger drowns trying to take marrow, Grass-Leg breaks his leg attempting to help, and Bladder laughs so hard he bursts. Their father, upon learning of these calamities from his wife, becomes enraged and kills her in anger, leaving the family in ruin.

Source
Tales of Yukaghir, Lamut, and Russianized Natives of Eastern Siberia
by Waldemar Bogoras
The American Museum of Natural History
Anthropological Papers, Vol. 20, Part 1

New York, 1918


► Themes of the story

Tragic Flaw: Each character exhibits a flaw leading to their demise—Little-Finger’s overreaching curiosity, Grass-Leg’s impulsive rescue attempt, Bladder’s excessive mirth, and the father’s uncontrollable anger.

Moral Lessons: The tale imparts lessons on the consequences of unchecked emotions and actions, illustrating how individual flaws can lead to personal and familial ruin.

Cunning and Deception: The story subtly reflects on the deceptive nature of appearances and actions, where seemingly harmless situations lead to fatal outcomes, emphasizing the unpredictability of life.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Chuvan people


Told by Katherine Alin, a Russianized Chuvantzi girl, twelve years of age, in the village of Markova. Recorded by Mrs. Sophie Bogoras, winter of 1900.

There were three brothers. One was Grass-Leg, another was Bladder, the third was Little-Finger. One time they ate blood-soup. Little-Finger saw some marrow, and wanted to take it; but he fell into the soup and was drowned. Grass-Leg wanted to help him, but in his hurry broke his leg, seeing which, Bladder laughed till he burst of laughter. Their father went and asked his wife, “Where are our children?” She told him. He was so angry that he killed her.

The end.

► Continue reading…

Running and expanding this site requires resources: from maintaining our digital platform to sourcing and curating new content. With your help, we can grow our collection, improve accessibility, and bring these incredible narratives to an even wider audience. Your sponsorship enables us to keep the world’s stories alive and thriving. ♦ Visit our Support page

A Markova tale

White-Cap, a duck, acts strangely while being groomed by her granddaughter, scaring the girl into fleeing. Alone and lonely, the girl encounters a snow-bunting, which teases her with playful and absurd questions about her life, alluding to a life surrounded by dog-made tools and hardships. Their exchange ends with the bird mentioning a jay extinguishing her fire and flying off, leaving the tale unresolved.

Source
Tales of Yukaghir, Lamut, and Russianized Natives of Eastern Siberia
by Waldemar Bogoras
The American Museum of Natural History
Anthropological Papers, Vol. 20, Part 1

New York, 1918


► Themes of the story

Cunning and Deception: The snow-bunting engages the girl in a series of playful and absurd questions, showcasing wit and subtle deceit in their conversation.

Illusion vs. Reality: The girl’s perception of her grandmother’s behavior and the snow-bunting’s teasing questions blur the lines between reality and imagination.

Conflict with Nature: The girl’s fear of natural elements, such as drowning in the river or getting splinters from a willow, reflects a struggle against natural forces.

► From the same Region or People

Learn more about the Chuvan people


Told by Mary Alin, a Russianized Chuvantzi woman, in the village of Markova. Recorded by Mrs. Sophie Bogoras, winter of 1900.

There was a duck who called herself White-Cap. She asked her granddaughter to louse her.

“O granny! there are no lice on your forehead, but plenty on the back of your head.”

“Gete, gete!” said the old woman in duck language. “There are none on the back of the head, but quite a good many on the forehead, gete, gete, gete!”

“O granny! Why do you talk like that? You never did so before.” “Gete, gete, I always talked like the gray geese that pass high above me. They made me lose my wits, gete, gete, gete!”

The girl was frightened and ran away.

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For some time she remained alone, then she felt lonely and sat down on a high stone. A snow-bunting perched on a cranberry-bush. The girl asked it, “What do you want?”

“Pitititi do you feel warm?” — “I do feel warm.”

“Pitititi, why do you not bathe in the river?” — “I am afraid, lest I should drown.”

“Pitititi, why do you not hold on to a willow?” — “I am afraid to get a splinter in my palm.”

“Pitititi, why do you not put on mittens?” — “I am afraid, lest they should be torn.”

“Pitititi, why do you not mend them?” — “I am afraid the needle might break.”

“Pitititi, why do you not sharpen it?” — “I am afraid the whetstone might split, and brother would blame me.”

“What is your bed?” — “A dogskin.”

“What is your pillow?” — “A dog’s neck.”

“What are your spoons?” — “Dog’s paws.”

“What are your forks?” — “Dog’s claws.”

“What is your kettle?” — “A dog skull.”

“What is your sledge?” — “Dog’s cheek-bones.”

“What are your ladles?” — “Dog’s shoulder blades.”

“What are your titbits?” — “Dog’s tongue.”

“What are your cups?” — “Dog’s teeth.”

“And where is your fire?” — “A jay passed by and extinguished it.”

“And where is the jay?” — “It flew away to the mountain to peck at the larch gum.”

The end.


Running and expanding this site requires resources: from maintaining our digital platform to sourcing and curating new content. With your help, we can grow our collection, improve accessibility, and bring these incredible narratives to an even wider audience. Your sponsorship enables us to keep the world’s stories alive and thriving. ♦ Visit our Support page