Lore - Legends 85: Down Under

Episode Date: August 3, 2026

The huge number of dangerous creatures in Australia is terrifying, for sure. But if the legends are true, there's a lot more to be afraid of than spiders and birds. Narrated and produced by Aaron Mahnke, with writing by Alex Robinson and research by Jamie Vargas. ————————— ORDER EXHUMED TODAY: aaronmahnke.com/exhumed ————————— Lore Resources:  Get Ad-Free Lore: lorepodcast.com/support Episode Music: lorepodcast.com/music  Episode Sources: lorepodcast.com/sources  Official Lore Merchandise: lorepodcast.com/shop ————————— Sponsors: BetterHelp: Lore is sponsored by BetterHelp. Give online therapy a try at BetterHelp.com/LORE, and get on your way to being your best self. Mint Mobile: For a limited time, wireless plans from Mint Mobile are $15 a month when you purchase a 3-month plan with UNLIMITED talk, text and data at MintMobile.com/lore. SimpliSafe: Secure your home with 24/7 professional monitoring. Sign up today at SimpliSafe.com/Lore to get 50% off a new SimpliSafe system. Squarespace: Head to Squarespace.com/lore to save 10% off your first purchase of a website or domain using the code LORE. ————————— To report a concern regarding a radio-style, non-Aaron ad in this episode, reach out to ads @ lorepodcast.com with the name of the company or organization so we can look into it. To advertise on this podcast please email: [e-mail]. Or go to: https://advertising.libsyn.com/lore ————————— ©2026 Aaron Mahnke. All rights reserved.

The history books are wrong. They tell us that Amelia Earhart vanished without a trace, but that isn't true. Over the past few years, investigators have uncovered more details about her disappearance. We now know onto which island she crashed landed, we probably know what went wrong with her plane, and some people even think they know what happened to her body, although it's a pretty wild theory involving giant crabs, so take it with a grain of salt. Then, in 2018, it was announced that Amelia wasn't silent in death, at least not at first. You see, after she crashed on Gardner Island, she sent out hundreds of distress signals.

And while I'm sure she intended for those messages to be received by the Navy or the Air Force, most of them were picked up by completely normal folks. And what we've learned is that for six straight days, random housewives, teenagers, and radio hobbyists all over North America heard Amelia call out for rescue. Of course, that rescue never came. No matter how many times people reported hearing Amelia Earhart on their radios, the government didn't believe those reports to be credible. On July 7th of 1937, Amelia's last transmission went out into the wide, uncaring world. And then, she was silent. And until now, nobody ever knew how hard she fought to be heard. It's a powerful lesson. For a very long time, we thought we knew everything, and then we learn more. And it's not the

first time that we've done that, because the version of history we think we know isn't always the truth. And that applies to folklore as well. The stories we tell evolve and change. Just like a centuries-long game of telephone, the past has always slowly been edited and nudged in a particular direction. All because, as the saying goes, history is written by the victors. Usually that version is loud and clear, but sometimes it's expressed through silence. I'm Aaron Mankey, and this is lore legends. Australia is where the devil keeps his pets. It's a phrase that you've probably heard before, and looking at a list of some of the creatures there, it's hard to disagree. The cassowary, blue-ringed octopi, crocodiles, literally dozens of species of venomous snakes.

Just about everywhere you turn, there is something that could kill you. When Europeans first landed on Australia's shores, they were equal parts horrified and fascinated by the local fauna. After a lifetime of never seen anything more exotic than the occasional fox in their backyard, their minds were completely blown by these otherworldly creatures that kept trying to kill them. One of those baffling animals was the kangaroo. 17th century Dutch explorer Francois Pelsar first described them as a strange species of cat, while Captain Cook thought they looked more like a greyhound. When the first sketch of a kangaroo reached Europe in 1772,

it was published in just about every wildlife field guide imaginable for decades, despite the fact that this depiction made it look more like a cross between a weasel and a gerbil than a real kangaroo. Then in 1799, another of Australia's wacky animals actually made its way to England. The governor of Sydney sent a wombat corpse igniting an honest-to-god wombat craze. People were obsessed. One lucky man, a poet by the name of Dante Gabriel Rosetti, was so enthralled that he actually managed to secure a live one as a pet. After his first day as England's only wombat owner, he wrote, and I quote,

the wombat is a joy, a triumph, a delight, a madness. So it shouldn't be a surprise that the discovery of the platypus sent the Western scientific community reeling, with one account claiming that, and I quote, it rendered the latter half of Dr. Shaw's life miserable from his utter inability to determine whether it was a bird or a beast. The European fascination with the platypus lasted all the way through the 20th century. Winston Churchill actually wrote to Australia requesting,

that six of the odd little creatures be shipped to London. Some historians have claimed that this was a part of his larger diplomatic goal with Australia. Others say that he just really wanted a platypus. So all that being said, when the first peoples told the newly arrived settlers about the wild beasts that stalked the outback and devoured hapless humans, the Europeans accepted them at their word. And why would they not? After all, it all seemed to fit into the general Australian wildlife archetype.

But here's the thing. Not every creature the Europeans learned about was actually real. Take for example the Yara Mayahu. This was a small frog-like fellow who stood somewhere between three and four feet in height. He was sometimes referred to as a queer little red man, most likely because his entire body was said to be covered in red fur. Add in his small limbs, a large belly, and a disproportionately giant head, and he would probably be cute if he couldn't also unhinge his jaw like a snake and swallow a fully grown man. If his mouth didn't get you, though, his fingers and toes just might. Each appendage was said to have small suckers attached, like an octopus tentacle. He would use these to suck his victim's blood, making him one of

these strangest-looking vampires in the entire world. It said that these tiny red men lived in the forest, lying in wait for weary travelers. According to the Aboriginal writer David Unipan, the Yaramayahu would pounce on its victims like a cat, spreading its fingers and toes out so that the suckers could latch onto their flesh. Then, once he had his fill of blood, he would open his gigantic mouth and swallow them whole. And when he got hungry again, the Yarmayahu would simply regurgitate his still-living victim, beginning the cycle all over again. He always tried to leave just enough blood in their system to keep them alive so that he could keep on snacking. But things didn't always go to plan, of course, and sometimes he would drink

a little too much. Don't worry, though, if he suspected that his meal had died, he had a foolproof way to test it out. He would tickle them. Anyone who laughed was still fair game. According to legend, the Yarmayahu repeated this process three times. With each round, his victim would look smaller and smaller. After the third feeding, the human would be as tiny as its tormentor. Despite the fact that I'm calling these sessions feedings, the Yaramayahu never ate his victim, at least not permanently. Once he was done with them, he actually let them go. Not because they were no used to him anymore. No, it was because after the third time, they began to grow red hair all over their bodies. And thus, a brand new Yarmayahu would be born. Just because they eat human flesh

doesn't mean that they're inherently evil. Different Aboriginal nations had a variety of names for this particular creature, but today, it's most commonly known as the Bunyip. The name was believed to come from the indigenous word Banib, which came from the Wemba-Wemba peoples. It seems that nearly every nation had their own idea about what the bunyip actually was, though.

Some said that it was as big as a cow, while others compared it to a seal. In some legends it was covered in scales, while in others it had thick shaggy fur. The Nairanjuri people said that it was half-man and half-fish. Most early European depictions of the animal claim that it had the head and neck of an emu. And in 1847, one French colonist even said that the Niawong people believed that it looked like a giant starfish. And all these discrepancies also included its habitat and its behavior.

Rivers, swamps, and watering holes were typically named as its home. Some claimed that the bunyip could be which people. Others said that it was its bellowing roar that caused diseases like rheumatism. In the majority of legends, though, the bunyip was a lot more straightforward. It simply ate anyone who intruded on its waterways. The common thread across all the first people stories about the bunyip was that it wasn't just a flesh and blood creature. It was also a spirit, and usually its job was to protect the water.

Even today, the Naurangiri people tell their children not to disturb the water too much and to never take more fish than they need. If you put the ecosystem at risk, they say, the bunyip will get you. In southeastern Australia, bunyps are even part of their creation story. They have always been part of native mythology there, a spirit that balances nature and keeps young children from swimming alone. In other words, they weren't monsters, they were more stewards. Predictably, though, early European colonists didn't care to learn the finer details.

As soon as they heard about a big river creature, they went all in on finding it. Plenty of them claimed to have seen the bunyip or to have heard it bellow. As early as 1801, French colonists said that they heard the bunyip's roars echo across the water. Those who saw the creature over the years said that it looked like a hippo or a big gray dog or an emu or a horse. Basically, it looked just like anything and everything. No one claimed to have found physical proof of the bunyip's existence until 1845. Newspaper headlines all over the world announced, Wonderful discovery of a new animal.

Archaeologists had uncovered a knee joint that was too large and strange to belong to any known creature. According to the newspaper, when the white men showed this fossil to an unidentified group of indigenous people, they recognized it instantly as part of a bunyip, which they described as a half-bird, half-allegiate. creature that laid eggs. It had killed many of their women over the years and had even recently attacked a man named Mamboran, who proudly showed them the scars on his chest. In that same year, an explorer named Edmund Kennedy claimed to have shot and killed a bunyip at the southern end of Lloyd Bay, which would have made him the first European colonist to have ever seen one with his own eyes. He described it as a huge bird-like creature, covered in black fur, with huge claws, long legs,

and a bright blue beak. Unfortunately, the animal pelt disintegrated during Kennedy's travels in the Australian heat, and he himself died just a month later, which means that he wasn't around when, 20 years later, the Australian Museum identified a similar creature as a bird known as the Cassowary. In 1847, the South Australian newspaper announced that, and I quote, a bunyip or an immense platypus was seen sunning itself on the banks of the Yarra River. A few months later, the Sydney Morning Haleigh,

Harold reported the discovery of a bunyip skull. In 1857, an article was published about a man who traveled all the way down the Murray and Goldburn Rivers, recording what he saw as he went. In his journals, he claimed to have seen a bunyip at least six times. According to his drawings, it was a seal-like creature with a long neck and the head of a dog. He tried to shoot it a number of times, of course, but it always got away. The article ended by saying, and I quote, we hope he will be able to secure the skin of one of these animals in some of his future peregrinations. And it was a craze that had a hard time going away.

Bunyip sightings were reported regularly through the 1880s, and interest in the creature remained high. But in the 20th century, after so many run-ins with no confirmed attacks or deaths, people began to ride it off. Slowly but surely, the Bunyip lost its edge. The residents of Australia gradually came to believe that it was a lot of Australia. wasn't a dangerous creature that could kill you. Instead, the Bunyip had become watered down into a family-friendly river monster, one that would play with children, not eat them. It even became

a popular character in children's books. Today, only the Aboriginal nations remember it as it once was. It was, in a sense, the final blow from the colonists. A century after they first started to look for it, they finally took away the Bunyip's identity, killing it more thoroughly than a bullet. ever could. Porter didn't want to abandon his flock. He just didn't know what else to do. He had been out herding his family's sheep when he spotted a tall humanoid figure running towards him. He couldn't tell if it was a man or a woman, but something about it just looked off. Its inhumanly fast gaites had an odd cadence to it, which was made even stranger by its disproportionately long limbs, and its body looked to be covered entirely in shaggy fur. After a few seconds,

of squinting at the fast-approaching runner, Porter realized that his guard dogs weren't barking at the intruder. No, they were crouched behind his legs, whimpering. They were hiding from the creature. It was at this point that Porter's own fear took over. Without a second thought, he ran home with his dogs, leaving the sheep behind. A week later, a young woman reported seeing a similar creature while she and a few of her friends were out fishing, and when she saw the tall hairy beast coming towards them, she froze, and all her terrified brain could think to do was scream. The men in her party left into action, grabbing their weapons and running after the strange figure. They never caught it, though, but they all claimed that at one point of the chase,

it stopped to look back at them, and they all froze in response. For a long, breathless moment, the men stared at the beast, which they described to a local newspaper as, and I quote, a big, slovenly man whose head was covered with dark griszenly, hair, the face with shaggy darkish hair, the back and belly, and down the legs covered with hair of a lighter color. Thankfully, nobody was harmed. The creature eventually went on its way, and the fishing party went on theirs. Even so, the encounter was hard to forget.

According to everyone who had seen at that autumn, this wasn't some kind of bear or wild man. It was something else, something supernatural. Thankfully, when it came to figuring out what had been hanging around in the fall of 1876, they didn't have to start from scratch, because the Aboriginal peoples already knew what it was, and it had featured in their stories for centuries. They called it the Yawi. According to legend, the Yawi stands between six to 12 feet tall and can weigh up to a thousand pounds. It's completely covered in brown fur with an ape-like face and clawed human-like hands. Basically, Australia's answer to Bigfoot. There are a few differences, though. Some legends

claim that the Yawi's feet are backwards. Others say they can fly or that they can magically put humans to sleep. During one interview, a tribal elder from New South Wales warned that if you're hiking in the mountains and you suddenly feel sleepy, then you are being influenced by the Yawi.

If you stop to rest, you probably won't wake up again. Unlike its cousins, the Bigfoot or the Yeti, this outback ape man doesn't seem to avoid human contact that much. In fact, they're rather aggressive. and have been known to abduct women and children.

Stories about the Yawi date back to prehistory. Giant furry men were regularly depicted in ancient aboriginal cave art, and most First People's communities have their own versions of the beast. Some say that they have unusually long arms, that they use fire, or that they eat human flesh. One people group has legends that record their long history of battles against the Yawi, while another tribe believes the creatures to be a wandering spirit. For the most part, though, their descriptions are pretty much the same.

It's a tall, ugly, hairy monster. When the Europeans came to Australia, it didn't take long for them to learn about it either. In fact, one Western account about a Yawi watching a group of hunters dates all the way back to 1789. One man reported that he came across the Yawi in 1882. It looked fearsome, but all he had to do was throw a rock in its direction to scare it off. And in 1912, a man saw what he thought was. a kangaroo, but once it stood to its full height, he realized that it was far too tall.

Thankfully, the creatures seemed disinterested, and both parties walked away without incident. And truth be told, not many of the European Yawi sightings ended in bloodshed. Despite the Aboriginal warning that these were vicious creatures, white settlers seemed to have no real problem with them. Just a few heart-pounding moments of eye contact, maybe a quick chase, and not much else. There are, of course, plenty of indigenous stories in which the human survived encounters with the Yawi, but they usually had to fight or flee to survive. For example, in one Aboriginal folktale from the early 20th century, a Yawi chased a man and a woman up a tree. They both eventually escaped, but were wounded in the process. In the end,

the Yawi stands tall as one more example of a monstrous legend that was sanitized and tamed by colonial contact. Bit by bit, the character of the creature was chipped away, until there was very little difference between the Yowie and your average ape. It's often said that history is written by the victor. We don't usually learn about this in our Western classrooms, but Britain was actually responsible for a long, drawn-out genocide in Australia. For nearly 200 years, the majority of the indigenous Australian population was systematically eliminated through both disease and targeted violence.

Children were separated from their families and put into school, adults were confined to reservations and, quote, re-educated. The settlers didn't just try to kill the aboriginals themselves. They tried to erase their culture as well, and that included their myths. Nature, spirits, and monsters went from wild creatures to dinner table anecdotes. For decades now, people have tried to figure out how the Aboriginal peoples came up with the Yahweh in all its various forms. He was clearly inspired by apes, but there's no evidence that any other people.

type of ape or monkey ever lived on the Australian continent. Regardless, people claim to have seen him, so there really might be a monkey-like man wandering around in the outback. Whether or not he's terribly violent is still up for debate. There have been plenty of modern-day Yawi sightings as well, with some as recent as 2021. Of course, nobody has been grievously injured by a giant ape man, but that's to be expected. He just doesn't have the same bite that he used to. My favorite anecdote, though, comes from a camp full of 13-year-old boys who claim that they saw the Yowie through their cabin window.

When they went to investigate the area where he had been cited the next day, they found a collection of gigantic footprints, along with a few shrubs that had been ripped out of the ground. One of the boys continued to tell the story of his encounter with the Yawi well into his adult years. When asked about the incident later in life, he said, and I quote, I can't say exactly what the Yauis are, whether they're apes or some kind of hominid, but they're definitely out there because we saw one. And believe me, it was bloody huge. That man, by the way, was William Ochi, who grew up to be an Australian senator. All that said, when it comes to believing in the Yawi, the words of a politician may not sway you one way or the other. But something seems to be out there. And it's been out there for a very long time.

I hope you've enjoyed today's journey to the land down under and its exploration of all those creatures that are out to kill you. But not every Australian cryptid dates all the way back to the pre-colonial era. In fact, a few were even created relatively recently. Unfortunately, even these new creatures have a taste for human blood. But hey, this is Australia, after all. It would kind of be weird if they didn't. Stick around through this brief sponsor break to hear all about it. What's a trip to Australia without a koal. sighting. They just might be one of the most beloved animals in the world, fluffy, cuddly, and drugged out of their minds on eucalyptus leaves. Honestly, what else could you ask for? Of course,

if you ever find yourself in the outback, you'll have to make sure that the koala you're approaching is actually a koala, because, believe it or not, these cute little marsupials have an evil twin. It's called the drop bear, and while most people probably have a hug from a koala on their bucket list, you wouldn't want to get anywhere near a d'uble. drop bear, much less try to hug one. The best way to think of it is as a man-eating teddy bear. It has the same fur as a koala, the same face, and same opposable thumbs that help them climb trees. But the drop bear is significantly larger than your average koala. Despite the fact that it's considered to be part of the same marsupial family, they can grow to be as large as

a panther. Oh, and they also have long claws and fangs, and the rather unfortunate urge to drink blood. Thankfully, you probably won't be getting any unexpected nighttime visits from the vampiric koala bear. They tend to avoid human settlements, preferring to spend their time in remote areas. They can usually be found hanging out in the treetops, waiting for their next meal to pass by underneath. Because you see, the drop bear got its name for a reason.

Typically, they attack their prey by, well, you guessed it, dropping out of the trees onto unsuspecting victims below. With the element of surprise on their side, they can quickly bury their fangs into their victim's neck, drinking their fill of blood. Now, because they live so far away from people, human beings aren't usually on the menu for them. But they won't pass up the opportunity to munch on us if they're given the chance. They've been known to consume blood, flesh, and even bones, whether from a wild animal or from a person. But thankfully, there are a few steps you can take to protect yourself.

For one, never set your tent up beneath a drop bear's tree. Also, consider urinating on a few of your possessions because that apparently wards them off as well. And if you're unsure which tree might house an evil teddy bear, simply spit straight up into the air. The drop bear will be compelled to spit right back at you. Other methods of dissuasion are trickier to pull off, like sticking forks into your hair

so that you can impale any unwanted droppers. And foreigners also seem to be, targeted significantly more often than native Australians, so some people suggest speaking and singing with an exaggerated Australian accent to confuse the creatures. Now, I completely understand that all of these rules might sound like a pain, but safety is so much more important than convenience. And, of course, any steps that you take to protect yourself will also provide much-needed entertainment for your local guides, because that's what the drop-air is.

It's a joke. And it isn't even one of indigenous origin. No, the drop bear was created by modern-day Australians who just want to have a bit of a laugh. The first known publication to mention the name was a newspaper article from 1982, although some claim it goes back as far as the 20s or the 30s. In fact, one World War II prisoner of war

actually wrote an article describing something that he heard about during his time in Japan. According to one Japanese propaganda publication, a camp of Australian soldiers was attacked by a group of these vicious koala bears. The Australians panicked, and all would have been lost if not for their two Japanese prisoners who saved them by killing all the bloodthirsty bears. Wherever the legend came from, though, it's always been a joke, and a harmless one at that. Sure, a few unsuspecting foreigners were probably convinced to strap forks onto their hats

or to spit in their own faces, but where's the harm in that? The drop bear may not be real, but the laughter it inspired definitely was. This episode of Lord Legends was produced by me, Aaron Manke, with writing by Alex Robinson and research by Jamie Vargas. This is me, once again, begging you to go pre-order my new history book. It's a weird history book called Exhumed, and it explores the story of Mercy Brown, who you may remember from the very first episode of lore, and also the New England vampire panic as a whole by using the lens of folklore, medical advancements, and pseudoscience.

To pre-order your copy today, head over to Aaron Mankey.com slash Exhumed, where you'll find all the links to the places where you can buy the book. If you don't like hearing ads on lore, I have a solution for you. There is a paid version that's available on Apple Podcasts or Patreon that is 100% ad-free. And subscribers who pay for a membership on one of those platforms also get weekly mini-bonus episodes called Lore Bytes, and Patreon members get discounts on lore merch and access to my inbox. Learn more over at lorepodcast.com slash support.

And of course, you can follow this show on the socials. Head over to YouTube, threads, Blue Sky, or Instagram. Just search for lore podcast, all one word, and then click that follow button. And when you do, say hi. I like it when people say hi. And as always, thanks for listening.