The Aboriginal people of Australia are one of Earth’s oldest cultures. Their folklore stretches back millennia. Passed down from storyteller to storyteller. The Wandjina – the cloud spirits from the sky – brought life to the planet. All images of them are sacred 

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Australia is burning. “This is a climate crisis, but this is a climate crisis caused by colonization and mismanagement of land”. These are the words of Larissa Baldwin, from the Widjabul clan of the Bundjalung nation, and the First Nations justice campaign director of GetUp – an organisation bringing people together on issues of Environmental Justice, Human Rights, Economic Fairness and Democratic Integrity [1]. The 26th of January is Australia Day – a commemoration of anniversary of the day in 1788 when the First Fleet of British ships arrived at Port Jackson, New South Wales, and the Flag of Great Britain was raised at Sydney Cove by Governor Arthur Phillip. It used to be known as Foundation Day, but now it is increasingly known as Invasion Day and Survival Day.

In 2016/17 researchers at the University of Newcastle compiled the most complete list to date of the massacres of Australian First Nationals carried out by the British settlers. “The exact death toll from massacres and the frontier wars is unknown, but it runs in the hundreds of thousands. More than 65,000 Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people were killed in massacres or conflicts between 1788 and 1930 in Queensland alone”[2]. It’s genocide, and its ongoing.  

Colonization also led to the “Stolen Generations,” when at least one in three Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander children were forcibly removed from their families between 1910 and the 1970s, to be confined in institutions or raised by white families. This was a practice meant to “breed out the color” [3]

Fire-stick farming, also known as  cultural burning, was once practised widely by Aboriginal Australians as a means of clearing and managing the land. These controlled burnings created fire-breaks which helped stop the spread of wild-fires – which occur naturally in the hot, dry Australian climate. The 2019-2020 bush-fire season has been the most destructive and devastating on record. As of the 14th of January 2020, 72,000 square miles of land had burned, destroying 6,000 buildings, killing 35 people, and an estimated one billion animals, many of which are now endangered species.

For thousands upon thousands of years Indigenous Australians lived in harmony with nature. They understood the signs and cycles of their environment and passed these down through folk-tales and stories, told and retold. Nature is sacred to the Aboriginal people, but there is no one over-arcing deity covering all of Australia.  

Each tribe has its own deities with an overlap of beliefs, just as there is an overlap of words between language groups.The Wandjina spirits in the northern Kimberley of Western Australia belong to the Ngarinyin,Worora andWunambal tribes. These Wandjina are responsible for bringing the Wet Season rains, as well as laying down many of the laws for the people. As one travels east, this function is taken over by Yagjagbula and Jabirringgi, The Lightning Brothers of the Wardaman tribe in the Victoria River District of the Northern Territory, then by Nargorkun, also known asBula, in the upper Katherine River area, and by Namarrgun, the Lighning Man in the Kakadu and western Arnhem Land regions.[4]

[1] https://www.vox.com/identities/2020/1/24/21080027/invasion-day-australia-aboriginal-indigenous-torres-strait-islander

[2] https://www.theguardian.com/australia-news/2017/jul/05/map-of-massacres-of-indigenous-people-reveal-untold-history-of-australia-painted-in-blood

[3] https://www.vox.com/identities/2020/1/24/21080027/invasion-day-australia-aboriginal-indigenous-torres-strait-islander

[4] http://www.aboriginalculture.com.au/religion.html 

The location in the bottom panel is based on The Pinnacles in Australia. 

(Not much time to go in depth here for this one, pencilled, inked and coloured in clip studio. Researched via google.)

The Yedua is a plant-creature recorded in the Talmud [edit: it isn’t, it’s recorded in later appended discussion of the Talmud. Apologies]. Tethered to the ground by a vine, they grow into human-like shapes. Any creature straying too close to a Yedua is killed and devoured. Only by severing the plant-man from its roots can the Yedua be defeated.

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The Yedua (variously also spelled Yadu’a, Jeduah, and Fedua) are part of a strange subcategory of plant-lore in which the line between flora and fauna has become blurred. The humanoid, screaming Mandragora root – the Mandrake – has already been discussed, but before we get on to the Yedua, there are a couple of other notable examples.  

The Barnacle Goose (a real species of actual goose) was, for a long time, thought to grow on trees (or on wood, at least).  

There are likewise here many birds called barnacles,(barnacle geese) which nature produces in a wonderful manner, out of her ordinary course. They resemble the marsh-geese, but are smaller. Being at first, gummy excrescenses from pine-beams floating on the waters, and then enclosed in shells to secure their free growth, they hang by their beaks, like seaweeds attached to the timber. Being in progress of time well covered with feathers, they either fall into the water or take their flight in the free air.

The above words were written by the archdeacon of Brecon, Gerald of Wales, in his book Topographia Hiberniae, around 1188 AD. It should be noted that Gooseneck Barnacles are also real things, which do bear some co-incidental resemblance to Barnacle Geese, but lack of knowledge of the migration of birds seems to have been the main factor at play here. That and the fact that if these geese weren’t strictly geese, they could technically be eaten freely on days when religious observances called for abstinence from meat.  

The Vegetable Lamb is another strange example. Widely believed now to have come from the first reports of the cotton plant, with its wool-like yield, the Vegetable Lamb seems to have undergone a significant number of evolutions in the retelling. Some stories tell of a large gourd, inside of which, when ripe, could be found a lamb-like creature. Others tell of a living, moving, grazing lamb-like fruit, tethered to the plant from which it grew by means of an umbilical vine. It is this latter version of the Vegetable Lamb which bears a striking resemblance to the Yedua.  

In the Mishna Kilaim (vin, 5), a portion of the Talmud, we meet the passage, “Creatures called adne sadeh (‘lords of the field’) are regarded as beasts.” Rabbi Simeon, who died about 1235, comments on this statement as follows: ” It is asserted in the Jerusalem Talmud that this creature is the ‘man of the mountain.’ It draws its food out of the soil by means of the umbilical cord: if its navel be cut, it cannot live. Rabbi Meir, the son of Kallonymos of Speyer, has added these remarks:  

‘There is an animal styled Yedua? with the bones of which witchcraft is practised. It issues from the earth like the stem of a plant, just as a gourd. In all respects, the yedua has human form in face, body, hands, and feet. No creature can approach within the tether of the stem, for it seizes and kills all. As far as the stem (or umbilical cord) stretches, it devours the herbage all around. Whoever is intent on capturing this animal must not approach it, but tear at the cord until it is ruptured, whereupon the animal soon dies.'”

This quotation is taken from a 1915 article taken from The Journal of American Folklore, written by Berthold Laufer. Why would anyone want to kill the Yedua? Well, apart from the fact that it seemed to want to murder anyone who came too close to it (the same could be said for many wild animals though, to be honest), the bones of the creatures were thought to be useful in magic. If held in the mouth of a sorcerer, the bones (exactly what form these plant/animal bones would take is not recorded) were supposed to grant them the ability to foretell the future.  

We ended up, somehow, out of sync with the folklore thursday account, tweeting our stories on week ahead of theme (christmas, a confusing time all round). So this is a resync strip. John sent me the tweet and I had all sorts of ideas for what Hidebehinds could look like (9 meter tall stick humanoid stick insects stuck in my head) but I wanted to do a goofy cartoony style, and so, this is what you get!

I could’ve gone gory, had toyed with the idea of the a hidebehind suddenly spotting the reader (after despatching the lumberjack) but that would’ve need a creepier art style than what I was going with.

Anyway, here we go – all synced up again!

Being a lumberjack is a hazardous career choice. More dangerous than the blades and falling trees though, are the monsters. American folklore tells of mysterious woodland predators nicknamed Hidebehinds. No lumberjack has ever seen one and lived to tell the tale.

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In the timberlands of late 19th and early 20th century America, lumberjacks lived a migratory lifestyle. Moving from camp to camp, down from the North East of the country, into the Upper Midwest, and eventually into the Pacific North West, the loggers kept themselves entertained during their non-working hours by swapping camp-fire tales. These stories took on a life of their own as they were passed from lumberjack to lumberjack, and camp to camp, becoming the folklore of the wood-cutters.  

Many of these stories dealt with what came to be known as “Fearsome Critters” – strange, otherwise unknown or undocumented creatures which roamed the forests. It is believed that many of these stories originated as a means of scaring or pranking newcomers to an area (very much like the infamous Drop Bear which tourists are warned about in parts of Australia), with several story-tellers in on the joke warning about the particular hazards which might be faced in that region. That said, many of the creatures bear resemblances to previously documented folkloric and cryptozoological beasts.  

One such creature, often blamed for the mysterious disappearance of any logger who left the camp that morning but back there at the fireside that night, is the Hidebehind.  

The Hidebehind is never found in the open. He always conceals himself behind a tree trunk. His marvellously quick, stealthy gait makes it possible for him to stay constantly behind his prey, no matter how quickly the suspicious victim may spin about in the hope of glimpsing the marauder.  

This description is taken from Fearsome Critters (1939) – a (somewhat tongue in cheek) field guide to the creatures of timberland folklore, written by Henry H. Tryon. He continues:

Its food is chiefly intestines. Leaping from its hiding-place with a demoniacal laugh, it swiftly disembowels its victim with one swipe. Sometimes the fiendish howl frightens the prey to death before the blow falls.   

It was said that Hidebehinds hated the smell and taste of alcohol or tobacco, which was a good enough excuse for any lumberjack to always make sure he had a pouch of tobacco and a hip-flask with him. According to Tryon:

One bottle of Uno beer has been proven to be a complete safeguard even in thickly infested country.  

Seymour Roger Cray was an American supercomputer engineer. Beneath his suburban home he constructed a series of tunnels. When Cray reached a creative impasse he would retire below. “While I’m digging, the elves will often come to me with solutions to my problem”

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The concept of folkloric creatures or even demi deities helping humans with their work can be found across many cultures. In Slavic Paganism the Domovoy (“House Lord”) is usually represented as an old, gray-haired man with bright eyes. He (his female counterpart, Domania, being rather more rare), sometimes shows himself in the form of a visiting animal, sometimes in the shape of a departed ancestor, occasionally with the addition of a tail and small horns. Offerings of leftover food, slices of salted bread, and prayers were (and are) made to the Domovoy in order that he keep the home and its occupants safe.  

The house Brownies of Scotland and the Hobs of England were once left similar offerings, sometimes in exchange for minor domestic chores such as sweeping up, but mostly in an effort to stop them causing mischief such as hiding keys and other small objects.   

Perhaps the most famous instance of Other Folk helping humans with their work is recorded in the Fairy Tale The Elves and the Shoemaker as recorded by brothers Jakob and Wilhelm Grimm in their  Kinder- und Hausmärchen (Children’s and Household Tales) of 1891. More modern, and surprising stories do exist however, with the Fae offering their expertise in very modern ways.  

Arthur Edward Stilwell (1859 -1928) was the founder of Kansas City Southern Railway and of Port Arthur, Texas. After his retirement in 1912, Arthur wrote several books detailing his life and works. Something which attracted particular attention in these memoirs was Stilwell’s admission that “Brownies” had assisted him throughout his life and career. These creatures visited Stilwell at night and advised him, even supposedly telling him which railways and bridges he should undertake to build next.  

Seymour Roger Cray (1925 – 1996) was an American electrical engineer and supercomputer architect who designed a series of computers which were, for a long time, the fastest in the world. He is known today as “the Father of Supercomputing”. In 1997 – the year after Cray’s death – an article published in Personal Computer World revealed some interesting mythology surrounding the man and his methods.

There are many legends about Seymour Cray. John Rollwagen, a colleague for many years, tells the story of a French scientist who visited Cray’s home in Chippewa Falls. Asked what were the secrets of his success, Cray said “Well, we have elves here, and they help me”. Cray subsequently showed his visitor a tunnel he had built under his house, explaining that when he reached an impasse in his computer design, he would retire to the tunnel to dig. “While I’m digging in the tunnel, the elves will often come to me with solutions to my problem”, he said. 

Whether we’re supposed to take it that Cray’s elves were literal Other Folk, or a kind of metaphorical muse I cannot be sure.  

So, here’s a special thing, just for you (for the moment) a two pager.

John will be tweeting a two tweet thread.

I had planned more, but this came in late with double the normal workload. I struggled a little with building a story telling narrative around the first tweet, so instead I decided to try and play something clever, a christmas bauble on christmas tree, but it would be the planet Saturn, with the god Saturn behind it (the god of course, lending its name to the planet).

That done, I wanted to do a more traditional comicbook narrative thing for the second tweet, but time really did kick my arse (panel 1 would’ve been hundreds of gladiators killing and stabbing each other, panel 2 bodies piled upon bodies in front of the temple of Saturn and panel 3 the ancient roman symbol of christianity – the Chi-Ro symbol on banners in front of a burning rome.

Even I, as fast as I can be, just couldn’t turn that around in a day (not given my time-budget on this is only about 3 hours). So sketched and abandoned, and instead this, which actually is thematically closer to page 1 and not-so-subtly suggests that Christianity is build on the blood shed of rome.

So anyway HAPPY CHRISTMAS!

(Oh this is an unofficial folklore thursday – as they shut down folklore thursday for the holidays, John and I just decided to do a little extra for you, our dear dear Patrons – and thank you for signing up!)

Skaði is the Norse Goddess of Winter and mountains, of bow-hunting and skiing. After her father, the giant Þjazi, was murdered, Skaði journeyed alone to Asgard, to seek her vengeance. Intimidated and impressed, the Gods transformed Þjazi’s eyes into stars.  

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Skaði (“Skathee”) was the Norse Goddess of bow-hunting, and skiing, of winter, and mountains. She was a Jötunn, a word often translated into English as “giant” or “troll”, though the more literal translation of this word is “devourer”. The Jötnar (plural of Jötunn)  inhabited Jotunheim (literally “world of the Jötnar”), one of the nine worlds in Norse cosmology (the others being Niflheim the land of mist, Muspelheim the land of fire, Asgard the home of the Gods, Midguard the home of the humans, Vanaheim the land of the Old Gods, Alfheim the home of the elves, Svartalfheim the home of the dwarves, and Helheim the land of the dishonourable dead).  Jotunheim was the wilderness: the untamed forest and the wild, inaccessible mountains where mere mortals feared to tread. Those Jötnar who inhabited the snowy peaks were known as The Frost Giants.

Skaði was the daughter of Þjazi (“Thiassi”), son of the Frost Giant Ölvaldi, and brother of giants Iði and Gangr. Þjazi, under orders of the ever-mischievous Loki, transformed himself into a gigantic eagle and kidnapped Iðunn, Goddess of apples. Iðunn’s disappearance caused the Gods to grow old and grey, and soon they realised that Loki was to blame. Loki, taking the form of a falcon then kidnapped Iðunn back from Þjazi (transforming her into a nut so that he could carry her more easily) who, in turn, gave chase in his eagle form. In Asgard the Aesir (Gods) built a great fire which Loki flew towards but stopped short of. Þjazi however, found his feathers singed by the flames and fell to the ground where he was set upon and murdered by the Gods.

Skaði vowed to avenge her father’s death, donning her armour and carrying all available weapons she journeyed to Asgard to challenge the Gods. The Gods were reluctant to battle the fierce Jötunn however, and instead offered her compensation. Skaði was allowed her pick of husband from the Gods, although she was (for some reason) only permitted to look at their feet in order to make her choice. This resulted in her choosing the Sea God Njörðr who was, by all accounts, not a great husband to her. Odin also took the deceased Þjazi’s eyes and placed them in the night sky, where they shine down forever as stars.  

The Czech-Polish border splits the ridge of the Giant Mountains. This is the domain of Rübezahl. Originally a weather giant, their appearance evolved along with their mythology. At once Wise Woman, and wizard-like monk, Rübezahl became guardian of the mountains.  

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In 1561 the German cartographer Martin Helwig created a beautifully detailed map of Silesia (a historical region of Central Europe, mostly now Poland, but also including parts of the Czech Republic and Germany). On the Riesageberge mountain range (now known as The Giant Mountains) Helwig drew a strange figure: a shaggy-legged, stag-like creature, standing on two feet and holding a tall staff in its hands. Beneath it he wrote “Rübezahl”.  

“Over all the vast under-world the mountain Gnome Rübezahl was lord; and busy enough the care of his dominions kept him. There were the endless treasure chambers to be gone through, and the hosts of gnomes to be kept to their tasks. Some built strong barriers to hold back the fiery rivers in the earth’s heart, and some had scalding vapours to change dull stones to precious metal, or were hard at work filling every cranny of the rocks with diamonds and rubies; for Rübezahl loved all pretty things. Sometimes the fancy would take him to leave those gloomy regions, and come out upon the green earth for a while, and bask in the sunshine and hear the birds sing. And as gnomes live many hundreds of years he saw strange things.”  

This is the opening paragraph from “Rübezahl” – a tale recorded in Andrew Lang’s The Brown Fairy Book (1904). Lang’s is a retelling of an old Silesian story, first recorded in print by Johann Karl August Musäus in his Volksmärchen der Deutschen (“Folktales of the Germans“) published in 1791. In the story we learn that the being known as Rübezahl kidnaps a beautiful princess, trying to keep her entertained by using his magic to transform turnips into likenesses of the friends and family she has left behind. As the enchanted vegetables wither their human forms also grow soft and weak however, so Rübezahl is forced to quest for more and more turnips. Eventually the princess makes good her escape while Rübezahl is busy counting all the turnips in a field, and this is where his nickname comes from: rübe (“turnips”) zählen (“count”) – Turnip Counter. As such, the name is actually an insult, and a reminder of a time when the creature was outsmarted. More respectful terms of address include Lord of the Mountain, Treasure Keeper, Lord John, and Prince of the Gnomes.  

It is believed that the creature or deity thought to inhabit the Giant Mountains began its life as a Weather Giant, like the Norse jötnar (also known as Trolls). The Norse Pagan God Odin was said to be a descendant of the jötnar, and soon the giant Rübezahl seems to have taken on the manner and appearance of his cousin; becoming a bearded, monk-like figure dressed all in grey (and the inspiration for Tolkien’s Gandalf the Grey). Able to change shape at will, Rübezahl would sometimes take the form of animals and birds. Sometimes he becomes a she and takes on the mantle of Wise Woman, or the guise of a helpless old woman in distress in order to test the heart of the human they have encountered. Strangely though, no extant tales of Rübezahl seem to even hint at the bizarre, demonic stag-like form as depicted by Martin Helwig in the 16th century.