Timesuck with Dan Cummins - 196 - The Wendigo and Other American Indian Folklore Monsters

Episode Date: June 15, 2020

The Wendigo. Tales of a perpetually starving monster roaming the woods of Eastern North America. The Wendigo originates in the lore of tribes like the Chippewa, Ottawa, and Algonquin. Its name roughly translates to "the evil spirit that devours mankind". And the Wendigo isn't the only monster we're looking into today. From the well known Skinwalkers to Thunderbirds, to the lesser known Flying Heads and Stone giants, we’re diving into a handful of legends. We’re also gonna dig a bit into the diversity of American Indian peoples, give a little lay of the land to help understand where all of these stories come from. Stories that seem to revolve mostly around cannibalism. Seriously. It's a weird, fun episode. Hope you enjoy hearing it as much as I enjoyed recording it. Hail Nimrod! We've donated $5,800 this month to the Alzheimer's Association. The Alzheimer’s Association leads the way toward ending Alzheimer’s and all other dementia. To find out more, visit https://www.alz.org/ Watch the Suck on YouTube: https://youtu.be/7ts54FbOTZU Merch - https://badmagicmerch.com/ Try out Discord! https://discord.gg/tqzH89v Want to join the Cult of the Curious private Facebook Group? Go directly to Facebook and search for "Cult of the Curious" in order to locate whatever current page hasn't been put in FB Jail :) For all merch related questions: https://badmagicmerch.com/pages/contact Please rate and subscribe on iTunes and elsewhere and follow the suck on social media!! @timesuckpodcast on IG and http://www.facebook.com/timesuckpodcast Wanna become a Space Lizard? We're over 8500 strong! Click here: https://www.patreon.com/timesuckpodcast Sign up through Patreon and for $5 a month you get to listen to the Secret Suck, which will drop Thursdays at Noon, PST. You'll also get 20% off of all regular Timesuck merch PLUS access to exclusive Space Lizard merch. You get to vote on two Monday topics each month via the app. And you get the download link for my new comedy album, Feel the Heat. Check the Patreon posts to find out how to download the new album and take advantage of other benefits

Ready to get cryptid? Turns out North America is a treasure trove of spooky legends and supernatural tales. There are hundreds of different American Indian tribes and almost all of them have histories full of pre-colonization monsters and supernatural entities. From the well-known skinwalkers and thunderbirds to the lesser known flying heads and stone giants,

dived into a handful of these legends today. We're also gonna dig a bit into the diversity of American Indian peoples. Give a little lay of the land to help understand where all these stories come from. Stories seem to revolve mostly around cannibalism. Seriously, apparently cannibalism was rampant at one time in North America. We're going to be diving mainly into the spaces where the latest chosen topic today, the tail of the Wendigo.

The Wendigo originates in the lore of tribes like the Chippewa, Ottawa, and Algonquin. Wendigo roughly translates to the evil spirit that devours mankind. YEEK! Not a friendly beast. There's a lot of tales out there regarding how one may become a Wendigo and what a Wendigo might do to you. And to find out more about it, you're just going to have to listen to today's Indian folklore and campfire horror edition of Time Suck. Happy Monday Time Suckers, Dan Cummins, Worship of our own cryptid monster, Nimrod, follower of Lucifina and

Prazer of Bojangles. And you are listening to Time Suck. May Michael, Motherfuck and McDonald's sing all your troubles away. I think I added a S to his last name for some reason. It's just McDonald's singular. Thanks for continuing to rate and review not just Time Suck during the ongoing pandemic, but also for checking out and rating my recent stand-up special. Get out of here, devil. You can watch it on Amazon. You listen to it via iTunes, Spotify, Pandora,

and more. Thank you. Currently looking like the toxic thought stand up tour may resume. Fingers crossed. August 7th and Raleigh, North Carolina at Good Night's Comedy Club. Hopefully the show's in Virginia Beach, Richmond, and Charlotte will follow and everything else after that. We'll see. We'll see. News is changing every day. Right now, it's looking hopeful. New Transmission T in the store at BadMagicMurch.com, so many different products up at the ever-expanding shop. Now that Logan Keith, our designer, is in the building, I get to watch him create these design sometimes and it's amazing. Illustrations, such a cool skill set to have. I've always admired it, right?

Just being able to sit there and just look at a blank sheet. Or I guess now it's like a, I'll just get a paper, it's like this big, gigantic iPad-looking thing. It was an electronic pencil. Just sketch away and it's amazing. Also, we have a badass Wendigo t-shirt in the scared-to-desk section of the store

if you'd like some Wendigo merch after today's episode also at badmagicmerch.com and that's all the announcements for today. Move moving back into the real reason you're here extra quick today. Let's get to some show. There are a ton of different American Indian legends regarding all kinds of different creatures. Why are there so many different legends? Well, because there's so many different tribes, each with their own distinct histories and folklore. Let's take a look into the tribal makeup of North America before we dive into the legends

today. I was a little ashamed myself for knowing so little about all of the people who lived in this land before me, lived in the land I've lived in for my entire life. There's 568 different federally recognized American Indian tribes in just the United States alone. Over 500 so many different peoples. Now that I'll just get kind of lumped in together a lot of the time. 229 are located in the gigantic state of Alaska and the remainder spread throughout the rest of the U.S.

2010 U.S. Census reported that there were 2.9 million people with pure American Indian ancestry and an additional 2.3 million people of mixed American Indian ancestry. The combined US population in 2010 was 5.2 million American Indians. These are just US figures. They don't take into account millions of additional American Indians who live in Canada, Mexico, Latin America, hundreds and hundreds of additional tribes. And then there are, you know, many, many more tribes in South America. Keep all that in mind today, you know, even though we're going to pop into Canada for

some stories, we're primarily just focusing on legends from tribes located in the present day, US. Who knows how many other legends are out there in the Americas? How did all these tribes get here? Oh, we talked a bit about that two years ago in the Aztec suck, June of 2018, so much human sacrifice in that one. Aztecs loved a good sacrifice. It killed some kids in a heartbeat to grow some corn. But it's been a while. Been a while. So let's revisit today how the various tribes of the US made it to North America many thousands of years

before Christopher Columbus's ships landed in the Bahamas, a different group of people discovered America, the nomadic ancestors of modern American Indians who hiked over a land bridge from Asia to what is now Alaska, a little over 12,000 years ago. By the time European adventurers arrived in the 15th century CE, scholars estimated that more than 50 million people already living in the Americas of these some 10 million lived in the area that would later become the United States. It's time past these migrants in their descendants push south and east, adapting to the climates and vegetation and animal life as they went. In order to keep track of these diverse groups, anthropologists and geographers have divided them into culture

areas, or rough groupings of contiguous peoples who shared similar habitats and characteristics. Most scholars break North America excluding present day Mexico and Central America into ten separate culture areas. The Arctic, the sub Arctic, the Northeast, the Southeast, the plains, the Southwest, the Great Basin, California, the Northwest Coast, and the Plateau. First up, the Arctic culture area, a cold, flat, treeless region, a frozen desert of sorts near the Arctic Circle in present-day Alaska, Canada, and Greenland, home to the Inuit people of the U.S., Canada, and Greenland, and the Alliute people of the Aleutian chain of nearly 70 islands, arcing out from South Central Alaska over into Russian territory.

The Inuit people have formerly been called Eskimos. That term now considered pejorative by many, no longer seen as acceptable to use. Both of these large groups of various tribes spoke and continue to speak dialects, to send it from what scholars call the Eskimo Alliute Language Family is okay to use the term Eskimo in the context of describing the language family there.

Both of these groups in northern tribes, and they have to deep down, right, at least deep down, be furious with their ancestors for not migrating further south when they decided to settle. Don't they? Much like a lot of the present day inhabitants of, you know, cities in northern Minnesota

and the upper peninsula of Michigan, can't be a little bit pissed. Just come on, this frozen tundra, this place, this wasteland of icebergs in tundra and permafrost and temperatures that dropped to damn near 60 below zero in the winter without windshield. That's where you wanted to settle down. You fucking kidding me?

Sure seals are tasty and igloo's are pretty cool. But I can be, you know, picking myself a tasty ass orange right now, walking over to a beach to peep on some naked ladies, if you would have just kept moving south. I'd be pissed because it's such an inhospitable landscape. The Arctic's population always been comparatively small and scattered. There are less than 8,000 allute people, less than 150,000 total inuit people. Some of these people's ancestors, especially the inuit, the northern part of the region,

nomads, more nomads, just like the Mongols last week. They followed seals, polar bears, other games, they migrated across the Tundra, and the southern part of this very northern region, the Alliute, were a bit more settled, living in small fishing villages along the shore. The early Inuit and Alliute peoples had a great deal in common. Many lived in dome-shaped houses made of sod or timber, or in the far north, literal ice blocks. Anyone else fascinating about people living in ice block igloos? Tribes would begin building their igloos or snow houses by making bricks out of ice or snow.

Inside would be a raised bed made out of loose snow, animal skins and caribou furs. Sometimes a short tunnel would be constructed at the entrance to reduce wind, right, and heat loss when the door would be opened. Animal skins or a snow block will be used for the door. They have a fire inside, a fire inside the igloo that blows my mind. That's so cool to me. The fire would slightly melt the inside of the walls, but not enough to destroy the igloo. Actually, it would make the structure stronger due to the walls continually like melting

a bit, then refreezing, then melting a bit, then refreezing, right? So just like a solid, you know, blockzing, then melting a bit, then refreezing. Right. So just like a solid, you know, block of ice, the independent blocks lean on each other or polish to fit to create a dome that will build correctly. We'll support the weight of a person standing on the roof and I can go on and on about igloos. I have to add a stain in an igloo hotel to my bucket list. There are several in Northern Scandinavia. Back to Inuits, Nalyuts.

Inuit and alliots used seal and otterskins to make warm, weatherproof clothing, aerodynamic dogs' legs, long, open fishing boats. They picked in my opinion a terrible place to live, but they did adapt incredibly and made the most of it. Still making the most of it. Next culture area, the sub-arctic culture, a bit south from the Arctic, mostly composed of waterlogged tundra, swampy, piney forests, but not that kind of piney for long time suckers. Not the, uh, look at here, nah, I got some peak, I see a peak already, like Adam, a woman's beard, not that kind of piney. Oh, this area stretches across much of present day, inland Alaska and Canada. Scholars have divided this region's people into two language groups.

The Athabaskan speakers and its western end and the Algonquin speakers in the eastern end, including the Cree, the Ojibwe and the Nuscapi. In the sub-Arctic, travel might not have been as difficult as it was in the Arctic region, but still often difficult. People used to boggons, snow shoes, lightweight canoes to get around. I feel like when the snowshoes, one of your primary methods of travel, I don't know, you might consider moving south, I consider going to a more hospitable climate. Again, this is my preference.

Like in the Arctic, population was more sparse than it was for the South where life was you know a little easier. I know it sound like a dick here I talk about this weather but I've traveled a lot. I've traveled a lot a lot and some climates are for sure better than others. Like when my kids are out of school I don't plan on hanging out in Northern Idaho all winter long every winter like I do now. Oh, get out and get out of here during the cold months. In general, the people of the sub-Arctic did not form large permanent settlements. Instead of small family groups banded together as they followed herds of caribou. They lived in small, easy to move tents and lean-tos.

When they grew too cold to hunt, they hunkered down and underground dugouts. The growth of the fur trade in the 17th and 18th centuries greatly disrupted the sub-Arctic way of life. Suddenly, instead of hunting and gathering for substance, the people you know, focus on supplying pelt to European traders. Next culture area. The Northeast culture area, one of the first to have sustained contact with Europeans, stretched from present-day Canada's Atlantic coast all the way down to North Carolina and

inland all the way to the Mississippi River Valley. It's inhabitants, for members of two main groups. The Iroquian speakers, this included the Cayuga, Onida, Iri, Onadaga, Senica, Tuscarora, most of whom lived along inland rivers and lakes and fortified politically stable villages. And then there were the more numerous Algonquin speakers. These included the Piquat, Fak Shani, Wapana Ag, Delaware, and Monominee, who lived in small farming and fishing villages along the ocean. There they grew crops like corn, beans, and vegetables.

And man, that was a lot of, that was a lot of tough for me to pronounce tribe names. I'm not gonna lie to you. I strongly considered just saying, there were two main groups of tribes in the Northeast culture and then just move in the fuck along, but I feel like that would be disrespectful. I feel like it would be taking the easy way out,

so I tried to power through. And you know what, I'm a little bit proud of myself. The only time I almost really messed up is the Miserl just shared this. Whenever I say the word monomony, I get the muppet song stuck in my head. And I'm trying to, you know, it's just the way it is. I'm not trying to be a dick again, word monomony, I get the muppet song stuck in my head. I'm not trying to, you know, it's just the way it is. I'm not trying to be a dick again, but monomony, bada da da, bada da, whatever.

Life in the Northeast culture often fraught with conflict. The Irrequined groups tended to be rather aggressive and warlike. Bands and villages outside of their allied confederacies never say from their raids. Only grew more complicated when European colonizers arrived. Colonial wars repeatedly forced the regions natives to take sides, pitting the airquy against their allegonque neighbors as right white settlement pressed westward. Both sets of indigenous people were forced from their lands. Interesting thing to note about the Iroquian tribes is how matriarchal many of them were.

Hey, I'll lose to Fina. Clan mothers possess considerable economic and political power. Women met alongside male counterparts and leadership councils, help make decisions regarding both war and peacetime activities. The Alejandro Queen lived in an amazing balance as well with nature around them. I think it's really cool. When the weather was warm, they constructed portable wigwams, huts with buckskin doors and and certain areas, they grow corn, beans and squash, and a winner that erected longhouses and multiple clans would live together storing food supplies and semi-subterranean structures. And the spring when the fish began to spawn, they'd leave their

winter camps and build villages near sources of water, sources of the fish that make birch bark canoes, catch salmon trout bass and more Staying close to the coast at hunt whales, porpoises, walruses and seals, they gather scallops, mussels, clams and crabs, sounds fucking delicious. Guys, these guys are livin' all summer long and hunt migrating birds harvest their eggs, Canada geese, doze more, July and August, they're gathering wild strawberries, raspberries, blueberries and nuts, the fall or hunt beaver, caribou, moose, white till deer. No, so much delicious food. Meanwhile, he got some poor bastard up there in the Arctic Circle.

It's fucking living on last year's seal. He hasn't seen a vegetable in 13 years. Next culture area, southeast culture area, north of the Gulf of Mexico, and south of the northeast, humid, fertile agricultural region. Many of its tribal residents, expert farmers growing maize, beans, squash, tobacco, sunflowers, and more. They'd organize their lives around small ceremonial and market villages known as hamlets. Perhaps the most famous of the southeast are indigenous peoples, or the Cherokee, Chickasaw,

Chokta, Creek, and Seminole. Some of whom spoke a variant of the most muskogian language. Sadly, by this time, by the time the US was its own nation, the Southeast culture area had already lost many of its native people due to disease and displacement. And 1830, the Federal Indian Removal Act compelled the relocation of what remained of the, they're known as the five main tribes, so that white settlers could have their land between 1830 and 1838 Federal officials forced nearly a hundred thousand Indians out of the southern states into quote Indian territory present-day Oklahoma The Cherokee called this frequently deadly trek the trail of tears got to do a sup on the trail of tears one of these days

Next culture area so many different tribes, right? The Plains culture area comprises the vast prairie region between the Mississippi River and the Rocky Mountains from present-day Canada all the way down to the Gulf of Mexico before the arrival of European traders and explorers its inhabitants speakers of uh suen alagonquin uh cattuan udo as tecan and at the bascan languages relatively settled hunters and farmers. They became nomadic only after European contact. After Spanish colonists brought horses to the region in the 18th century, that's when

groups like the Crow, Blackfeet, Cheyenne, Comanche and a rapaho used horses to pursue great herds of buffalo across the prairie. Learning that really made me pause. I guess really relearning it because I know I knew it before, but I'd forgotten. Now, I've long associated American Indians with horses because that's what I've seen in movie after movie TV show after TV show. You know, a lot of paintings and various art is American Indians warriors on horseback, fighting with other tribes, fighting with white sellers, the US military or hunting buffalo while on their horses, but horses not indigenous to North America. Spanish colonialists brought the horses over.

First introduced by the Spanish in 1519, they didn't make it to a lot of North America until the 17th and 18th centuries. So for thousands and thousands of years, American Indians live with no horses. And then in the century or two, sometimes just in the final decades of their pre-reservation existence only then did they have horses. So it's really just at the tail in there. The most common dwelling for planes, Indians, Hunters was the cone-shaped teepee, a bison-skinned tent that could be folded up and carried anywhere.

I say it's the dwelling probably most strongly associated with the American Indian. Plains Indians also known for their elaborately feathered war bonnets. Historically, when Americans have been represented in media and film and TV, they have almost always appeared as planes Indians. Next culture area, the peoples of the Southwest culture area lived in the vast desert region. President A. Arizona, New Mexico, along with parts of Colorado, Utah, Texas, and they developed, you know developed two distinct ways of life. Sedentary farmers such as the Hopi, the Zuni, the Yaki, and the Yuma, grew crops like corn,

beans, and squash. Many lived in permanent settlements, known as Pueblos, built out of stone and adobe. Some of these Pueblos, multi-story dwellings, resembling today's apartment buildings. At their centers, many of these people's villages also had large ceremonial pit houses known as Kivas. Other southwestern people, such as the Navajo and the Apache, more nomadic, they survived by hunting, gathering, and raiding their more established neighbors for their crops.

Because these groups were always on the move, their homes were much less permanent than the Pueblos. For instance, Navajo fashion their eastward facing roundhouses, known as Hogan's or Hogan's out of materials like mud and bark. Sadly, by the time the Southwestern territories became a part of the US, after the Mexican War, many of the region's native people had already been exterminated or displaced. Four more culture areas learned so much about the extent of diversity of American ins right now.

The great basin culture area in expansive bowl formed by the rock amounts to the east the sierra vatis to the west the Columbia plateau to the north and the Colorado plateau to the south was a barren wasteland for the most part of desert salt flats in brackish lakes it's people most of home most of whom spoke shashonian or udo as tech and dialects like the Bannock, Paiute and Yut, the Forage for Roots, Seeds and Nuts, and Hunnets, Snakes, Lizards and Small mammals. Because they were always on the move, it lived in compact, easy to build, Wiki-ups made of

willow poles or saplings, leaves and brush. Their settlements and social groups were impermanent, communal leadership when it existed was informal. After European contacts, some great basin groups got horses informed to Questrian hunting and raiding bands that were similar to the ones we associate with the Great Plains tribes.

Next up is California. It's its own, you know, whole area here. Before European contact, the temperate hospitable California culture area had more people in estimated 300,000 in the mid-16th century than any other. Also more diverse estimated 100 different tribes and groups spoke more than 200 different dialects. California's pre-European linguistic landscape was more complex than that of Europe's.

I had no idea, but I never guessed that. Despite the great linguistic diversity, many native Californians live very similar lives. They didn't practice much agriculture. Why not? Well, because they lived in a fucking utopia. Or nuts, roots, berries, various wild vegetables were plentiful. Most California, the weather's incredible. Fish and game plentiful. Arctic Inuits would have been shown pictures and videos of how tribes in Southern California were living at the same time They were living they would have smashed through the ice of whatever frozen lake or river ocean They lived on or near just so they could drown themselves

California area tribes organized themselves into small family-based bands of hunter-gatherers known as Tribelets Intertribal relationships based on well-established systems of trade and common rights were generally peaceful. Examples of California area tribes are the Karook, the Maidu, the Kuya, Mojave, Yukuts, Pomo, and Modak. We have two more areas now. Northwest Coast culture area, along the Pacific coast from British Columbia to the top of Northern

California, has a wet mild climate. Think Portland, Oregon, you know, Seattle, Washington, and the abundance of natural resources. The ocean and the region's rivers provided almost everything its original people's needed. Sam and whale sea otter seals, so many other kinds of fish and shellfish as result, unlike other hunter-gatherers who struggled to eat cattle living or forced to follow animal herd from place to place. The American Indians of the Pacific Northwest were secure enough to build permanent villages that housed hundreds of peoples of peace. Those villages operated according to originally stratified social structure, more sophisticated

than any other native culture outside of Mexico or Central America. A person's status was determined by his closeness to the village's chief, reinforced by their number of possessions, blankets, shells, skins, canoes, even slaves, goods like these played an important role in potlatches, elaborate gift-giving ceremonies designed to reaffirm class divisions. Some prominent groups in this region include the Athapaskin, Haida, Tlingit, Pinutian, Chinook, Chimshian, Kuz, and the Salish. Okay, last group. This is the one that encompasses where I live

in Cordelaine, Idaho, the Plateau Culture. The Plateau Culture area sat in the Columbia and Fraser River Basins at the intersection of the sub-Arctic, the Plains, the Great Basins, the California and the Northwest Coast, President A. Idaho, Montana, Eastern Oregon, and Washington. Most of his people lived in small, peaceful villages, long streams and river banks. They survived by fishing for salmon and trout, hunting and gathering wild berries. Yay, Idaho, Idaho, Huckleberries, yum, roots, nuts.

In the Southern Plateau region, the great majority spoke languages derived from the panutean, the Klamath, Nez, Pierce, Walla Walla, Yakima and others. North of the clumb, your river most spoke, Salishan, Dialex, the skits, skitswish, aka cordling tribe, my tongue gets goad in like one type of pronunciation. Then I flip back to like English. It's like it takes a second to catch up. Yes, it gets wish. A.K.A. Coral Lane Tribe, Spokane, Calispell tribes, many others.

In the 18th century, other native groups brought horses to the plateau and the regions and inhabitants quickly integrated the animals into their economy, expanding the radius of their hunts and acting as traders and emissaries between the northwest and the plains So many different cultures all thrown under the banner of American Indian oftentimes one tribe is no more similar to another as say Spaniards are to the Swedish or as the Irish are to the Italians before European settlement most you know tribes Had an ever encountered any members from hundreds of other tribes So many distinct groups with their own languages, traditions, lifestyles and legends. Just wanted to illustrate that and use this suck to spread some knowledge about overall American Indian diversity before diving into some diverse American Indian legends.

Hail Nimrod! Now we're going to bounce all over the place with different tales of cryptids. Come from some of the tribes I just mentioned. Let's start with the one the spaces it's voted for, the Wendigo. The legend of the Wendigo originates in the Northeast area of the present-day US and from the Eastern and Central Southern regions of Canada,

coming primarily from the Elegonquian culture. Wendigos were once human beings transformed usually irreversibly into their monstrous conditions. In some cases, the transition was conceived as rapid, while in others, the condition could be covert and disguised. The legend varied, of course, from tribe to tribe. Generally, can be broken down into two basic versions. Version one, the Wendigo is a physical entity, a monster,

that stocks this prey viciously in the northern woods, desperate to state its unfathomable hunger. I invite in version two, the Wendigo is a malevolent spirit that takes control of men's bodies, cursing them with an incurable need to consume human flesh. It was said that this spirit can possess any person overcome with selfishness or greed. I get too greedy when to go, might show up in your dreams. And the spirit then leads the possessed person to commit acts of cannibalism. And both versions, the Wendigo is a monster who lives to feast upon human flesh.

So what does the Wendigo actually look like? Well, surprisingly, very handsome actually. This, this really shocked me. And most legends, the Wendigo is a young, ambitious, well-built man, about six feet tall, with dark brown eyes, long, beautiful, somewhat feminine eyelashes, silky, raven black long, romance novel like hair, is lean and muscular, with long legs, powerful thighs, a narrow waist, insanely defined six pack abs, perfectly symmetrical pecs that always kind of appear post-chest workout pumped, bulging biceps, horseshoe, you know, triceps. All package nicely underneath is lightly

tan, vascular skin. The Wendy goes buttocks are firm, but not so firm. They lose their juicy curvingness. The Wendy goes shoulders are broad. The Wendy goes back. It's broad as well, broad enough to not just carry you, but also your problems, your burdens easily. The Wendigo is emotionally vulnerable, but not weak, not weak, sensitive, but not soft. When words flow out from between the Wendigo's full lips, perfect white teeth, and chiseled, slightly dimpled jaw, you hear the unmistakable voice of an alpha male, strong assertive. But never once teeter into the realm of toxic masculinity. The Wendy goes penis is strong, but not intimidating, hard, but not aggressive.

It's Goldilocks is third bowl of porridge. Just right. And you want to eat it all up. The Wendy goes balls are high and tight, but not constricted or small. Well, the Wendy goes heart, maybe pure in his mind, maybe clean. He is still absolutely capable of just the right amount of lust and just the right amount of thrust with a super clean wing. Have I made it weird enough yet? Everyone's thoroughly confused. Okay, all right, good.

Uh, forget everything I said just past few minutes. Uh, the Wendy goes, nothing like I just described. The Wendy goes, fucking monster. Let's have my hands up, dude, out of the woods. Uh, various legends describe the Wendy Goes of Tall, Boney, Humanoid-looking creature with long limbs, thin, elongated, claw-like fingers, terrifying face and sharp teeth.

Creepy cryptid stanzas tall as a person most of the time, but according to legend, they can grow to a height of like 15 feet or even more as it devours more and more victims. If you could just focus, you could stopicking around the woods and dominate the super heavyweight division of the USC. When to go has milky eyes that pop out of its sockets eyes

that look as if they're decomposing because like most of the creatures flesh, they are kind of rotten away. The when to go has hairs wispy and sparse hair of a corpse laying in the ground for weeks. It has skin as hard as a shield. In many recent stories of supposed when to go sightings. The creature now has elk horns.

Sometimes even a decapitated elk head resting on top of its former human head. These details seem to be pretty recent additions, some creepy pasta add-ons maybe. Original legends don't seem to ever mention any elk related features. In the book The Manitose, The Manateaus, documenting the oral traditions of his tribe, Chippewa author and ethnographer, Basel H. Johnston, describes the when-to-go this way, saying, the when-to-go was gaunt to the point of emaciation. Its desiccated skin pulled tightly over its bones. With its bones pushing out over its skin, its complexion, the ash gray of death, and its eyes push back deep into its sockets.

The Wendigo looks like a gaunt skeleton recently disinterred from the grave. What lips it has are tattered and bloody, unclean and suffering from separations of the flesh, the Wendigo gave off a strange and eerie odor of decay and decomposition of death and corruption. So not quite the romance novel cover description I laid out earlier. I'll talk about its behavior, its fighting abilities. When does this monster hunt and how? Well, the wind goes a creature of the night.

Some tales that lures its victims through its voice victims who are never seen again. Other stories that when to go appears to the victim grabs the victim's hand and makes the victim run alongside the when to go with long strides, evidence of which can later be found in the snow. Eventually, the human footprints in the snow disappear

because the when to go has lifted his hostage into the errand of our him. That seems like a very convoluted way to kill someone. Now, to some of the guys, please, don't, don't, don't eat me when to go, cut them. What? Eat you? No, come down buddy.

What are you talking about? I was kind of hoping that we could hold hands and just run through the snow for a while. You know, I was hoping that we could just be buddies and just run and stuff. Huh? Okay. Yeah, sure. We could hold hands and yeah, just we'll just run through the snow like buddies. Okay, that, sure, we can hold hands. And yeah, we'll just run to snow like buddies. Okay, that sounds great.

And after a while we're them running, you know, the wind goes like, you see this fun? Where's the running to snow like buddies? Hold hands. And the guy's like, yeah, okay, I guess, you know, this is pretty fun. I didn't expect this.

I'm getting a little bit tired though. And the wind goes like, oh, I'm glad you said something. You should just let me pick you up and carry you for a bit. You know, I'm good. You know, I mean, it's easier for me. I'm 15 feet tall, I got long strides and everything. And then the brave is like, oh, no, okay, okay, cool. No, thanks.

And then the winner goes, just pick some up. No, not cool. Now I'm going to eat you dumb son of a bitch. I was never your buddy. Now then the brave is doused, thinking something along the lines of, why are you just fucking eating me right away? What was the point of the holding hands and running? Why I don't get it As as I learned it, you know in other folk lore based sucks like in the brothers Grimm and Bobby Yaga episodes earlier this year sometimes these stories

They don't make a lot of narrative sense all the time But more about moral lessons main lesson the Wendigo is, don't be canable. And more on that in a bit. The murderous abilities of the Wendigo vary considerably from legend to legend tribe to tribe. Sharp nails, long fingers, loud and decline trees and scale walls in many stories. They're often supernaturally fast, but not always. Some stories the Wendigo walks in like a haggard manner, you know, kind of falling apart

all rotting away. Creatures almost always powerful beyond the realms of any human strength or sense of smell, far superior to the human, but their vision often actually worse. And most traditional stories, their vision is based on movement. You stay real still, sometimes they can't see you. That sounds terrible. That's the only option. You just stand still.

Just hope they don't see your smell you. Whether in the form of physical beast or a spiritual entity, the Wendigo is a hard creature to escape from once it begins to hunt you. It's immune to the harshest climates, stocks its prey, mimic human voices to trick you. One of its favorite tricks is to lure victims deep into the wilderness, get them lost away from their party, then consume them or possess them. The Wendigo is a tough son of a bitch, only grows stronger with age, the longer a wind to go walks the earth, the stronger that its power has become.

It can eventually gain the ability to control the weather. It can do super cool shit, like turn everything around you to darkness before the sun's actually set to make it easier to confuse you and lure your way and eat you. An old wind to go that's walked the earth for many, many years can control other creatures of the forest with its when to go mind. The beast master can summon predators, force them to strike on command. It's speed and strength also grow with age as does its ability to heal itself. Basically it's way tougher than Bigfoot. If Bigfoot and a when to go were squaring off in the octagon you'd be a fool to put money on big, fuck big foot. Especially if it's a super old when to go.

Get out of here with your big, foot bullshit. Always bet on old when to go. Don't just bet on it beating its opponent. Bet on it eating its opponent. And why does the when to go want to eat you? Folk-lorist think because the lessons when to go tails were supposed to teach. Mainly that cannibalism is immortal.

You know, that you really, really shouldn't eat people. Sounds obvious now. Don't eat people. when to go tails we're supposed to teach. Mainly that cannibalism is immoral, that you really, really shouldn't eat people. Sounds obvious now. Don't eat people, but cannibalism doesn't often come up in modern life, right? As an option you're actually thinking about, doesn't come up as an act of your circumstances, really dictate that you should maybe engage in to stay alive. Now most of us have access to food, or have food,

maybe not always the food we want, but something most country starvation, not a real concern right now. Not so hundreds and hundreds of years ago in North America when this legend began. Now, not so back when you didn't have a freezer and a pantry to keep food stored in. When you couldn't go to Taco Bell for some cheap sustenance when the government wasn't able to give people food stamps, sometimes during a long hard winter, you got real hungry. And fellow tribe members started looking less like buddies and more like snacks. Sometimes people ate each other. They ate each other often enough that eventually some tribal storyteller was like, and enough! We can't keep eating each other.

It's just a real problem. Last several braves and most of our kids has passed winter to cannibalism. Now we might get our asses kicked by this tribe of river over. If we eat more of our own people, we're not going to be able to defend ourselves at all from anyone. Soon our tribe's not going to be able to hunter, gather shit for the next winter ahead. We got to think of a story. Something that revolves around how bad your life is going to become if you eat it, eat it, eat it, and buddy. No more eating people at all.

Now if you now want to eat people, you turn into a monster. Now, cannibalism was truly once a widespread problem within the Algonquin tribes, or Algonquin. I keep adding to an un there, Algonquin tribes. And so it became spiritually forbidden to resort to this practice, even in times of great desperation. Children were taught that the dishonorable act

of eating human flesh would invoke the spirit of the when to go. And then one who practiced cannibalism, even out of extreme necessity, ran the risk of mutating into one of these terrifying creatures. Suicide or even starvation taught us being better than resorting to the atrocity of eating another.

Other negative values associated with when to go tails are all kinds of excesses, such as gluttony. The when to go is a creature that never gets satiated. And many legends, right, as size just keeps increased in proportion to what it eats. If it's six feet tall, this is a maceated monster, and it finds you, and it eats you,

after eating you, it's still not full. Now, it's just like a nine foot tall monster, but still maceated, it's still super hungry. That's the true curse of being a Wendy go. You're always starving. You could kill and eat an entire village, and you're still crazy with hunger. All right, is there any way to become a Wendy go

other than resorting to cannibalism? Yes, there is one other way. Library book late fees. If you forget to return whenever books you've checked out and they end up being more than two weeks overdue, there's about a 95% chance you're going to end up as a fucking win to go. So have a little bit of respect for your local life. No, that's not the other way.

The other way is you can be turned into a win to go outside of cannibalism is by having your mind taken over, by when to go. Mind control. They have a lot of powers. It's not fair. When to go can access your mind during a dream. It can curse you with an insatiable desire to eat human flesh.

Remember I talked about that earlier, especially if you feel like a greedy gluttonous person and your dreams are more susceptible to when to go take overs. If you're cursing this manner, it's the duty of your other tribe members to kill you to save everyone else. According to anthropologist Marvin Harris, the legend of the when to go used here again to deal with another taboo action.

Sometimes it is necessary to kill another tribal member. Harris says that priority killing in extreme environmental situations, such as during a harsh winter, was a necessary action for the survival of the tribe. I put a lot of people, obviously, didn't feel great about it. So the story also helped them feel better about doing that, just like you shouldn't commit cannibalism to survive the winter. Sometimes you should kill off certain other tribal members to save the group. Legend deals with both of those issues.

You don't start eating other tribe members all will and nilly, because then you're going to become a win to go, but also, sometimes you do gotta kill off other tribal members to keep everybody alive. You had to, right? You had to kill them. They started to turn into a win to go. Right? The win to go found them in their dreams because they were thinking about you know eating people. That's why you to kill them. Can you escape from win to go? Once it has its sights on you, some people do escape, but it's rare The when to go they're not fine to fire so if you happen to like run away from one and you see like a forest fire in the distance And you can somehow get the forest fire in between you and the when to go then yeah, yeah, you might be able to get away That's you know probably not likely gonna happen or if you if you like to take a flame throw with you out in the woods

Then that's gonna help but most people tend not to bring flame throwers, you know campin So it probably I'll do that you can kill it like a werewolf with silver with you out in the woods, then that's going to help. Most people tend not to bring flame throwers, you know, camping, so they probably don't do that. You can kill it like a werewolf with silver, but it's more complicated than just shooting it with a silver bullet. More on that, just a second. Most people just get eaten. The best way you can avoid being killed by a when to go is just never, ever come into contact

with a when to go. Basically, see out of the woods. Let's talk about that silver. To kill a gosh dang when to go, you're going to need a lot to go. It's basically the other woods. Let's talk about that silver. To kill a gosh dang win to go, you're gonna need a lot of silver. The chief weakness of a win to go traditionally is its heart. The beast reportedly has a ticker made out of solid ice. No wonder it hates fire. You know, melt is cold, cruel heart.

It seems like an ice heart would be easy to destroy, right? At first, it just gets thing running fast after you. You get it to start sweating and then buy by ice heart. Ha ha. Good luck pumping hate through your monster veins with your water heart, the ugly son of a bitch, but it's not that simple. It's hard as made out of some kind of evil wizard magic ice. Horting to one source if you stab a wind to go in his heart with a silver blade or shoot with a silver bullet, you weakened it but not killed it. You're not done yet.

Now you have to remove the ice heart from the wind to go his body. Then you got to shatter the ice heart from the wind to go his body. Then you gotta shatter the ice heart with like a silver hammer or something. Source wasn't real clear on that. Then you have to pull all the little pieces. After you shatter it, then you gotta sweep up all the little pieces. And you gotta put them inside a silver box.

Then you have to bury the silver box in a graveyard and you have to dismember and cut up its body and scatter and burn it, you know, and then scatters ashes in several different directions. It's a huge pain in the ass. Kill a when to go. If you're facing several when to go, the best thing you can do is just let me you, right? Because otherwise, yeah, so much fuck this. A lot of hassle.

A lot of work. How seriously was this legend taken by most American Indians? It varied, as one would expect, from tribe to tribe, but pretty seriously. By many, serious enough, by one tribe, or seriously enough, by one tribe in Canada, in the early 20th century, people started to call upon this pair of Wendigo hunters to kill tribe members. They thought we're turning into Wendigos. It is a crazy story, but I'm going to tell them just a little bit.

A lot of tribe took the Wendigo taboo so seriously that during times of famine, a ceremonial dance will be performed to remind people to stay vigilant against any thoughts of cannibalism, right, so that no one would bring a Wendigo into the village. Some of these ceremonies were once performed on the shores of Lake Wendigo, small lake on Star Island in northern Minnesota. Lake was named after this creature, by the way, not vice versa, just to be clear. So when did the legend of the Wendigo make the leap into the imaginations of people who were not American Indians? For the next few minutes, this information may be a little repetitive for creeps and peepers who listen to the scared of death podcast. I do it's my wife, Queen of Bad Magic, Lindsey. We told some

Wendigo, Hortails, and Episode 37 of scared of death. The episode titled The Death Room, if you want to check that out. The first written description of a when to go comes from the early 17th century account of a Jesuit priest. Written when a group of French Jesuit missionaries were traveling to present-day Canadian province Nova Scotia. The priest interacted with American Indian tribes attempting to spread Catholicism and they learned of the when to go. And one priest wrote in 1611, what caused us greater concern was the intelligence that

met us upon entering the lake, namely that the men deputed by our conductor for the purpose of summoning the nations to the North Sea and assigning them a rendezvous, where they were to away dark coming at met their death in the previous winter in a very strange manner. These poor men, according to the report given us, were seized with an ailment unknown to us, but not very unusual amongst the people we were seeking. They were afflicted with neither lunacy, hyperchandria nor frenzy, at a combination of all these species of disease, which affects their imaginations and causes them, are more than canine, hunger. This makes them so ravenous for human flesh

that they pounce upon women, children, and even upon men like veritable werewolves and devour them voraciously. Without being able to appease or glut their appetite, ever seeking fresh prey, and the more greedily, the more they eat. This ailment attacked our deputies, and as death is the sole remedy, among those simple people for checking such acts of murder

They were slain in order to stay the course of their madness He doesn't name the when to go here the priest obviously referring to the alagonquian legend Algonquian I keep putting the on there The first time the when to go mentioned by name and prince might come from a December 1879 account of the first man to be hanged in the province of Alberta. On December 20th, 1879, a cream man known as Swift Runner was hanged for the murder of his wife, mother, wife, mother-in-law, brother, and six children. Swift Runner was a Cree hunter, trapper from the country north of Fort Edmonton. He and his family lived in the woods near Fort Saskatchewan.

He was a big dude, roughly six foot three inches tall, well liked. He was mild mannered, thought by those who knew him to be a considered husband and a good father. And then things got real fucking weird. In the winter of 1878, 1879. In the fall of 1878, he left Fort Saskatchewan with supplies and his family to hold up for the winter out in the woods. And then in the spring of 1879, he returned to the Fort alone.

And then he's asked, obviously, what the hell happened to your family? And he doesn't provide a good answer. His in-laws contacted Northwest Mount of Police, who had been in the West for only five years. Swift Runner first claimed to the police that his wife, brother, mother-in-law, and six kids died a starvation. The police had forced the Scotchworn, however, mother-in-law, and six kids died of starvation. The police had forced the scatch-on, however, couldn't help but think this was a little odd, that although his family had supposedly starved, Swift Runner looked like he hadn't

missed a meal, all winter. Inspector Ganon was given the task of investigating Swift Runner's behavior and he and a small party of police men trekked out to the trappers camp. When they got to a spot near his camp, Swiftrunner showed them a small grave. Said that one of his boys had fallen ill, died during the winter. It was buried there. Gennana's man opened the grave, found the bones undisturbed.

So far, no reason to arrest this man. But then found a whole bunch of other human bones scattered around the encampment. Eh? Investigated as cabin, discovered the grizzly remains of his family, the bones of children who had clearly been butchered and picked clean of meat Some bones even had the marrow hollowed out When Ganon picked up a skull swift runner told him that was his wife's skull

Then after a brief pause he told them he had killed everyone but the son who died of illness He told them he become haunted by terrible dreams and that in died of illness. He told them he'd become haunted by terrible dreams. And that in one of these dreams, a Wendigo spirit told him he must kill and eat his family. He said, he resisted, but the Wendigo crept further into his mind and took control of him. Finally, one day when he woke, he was no longer a switch runner. He was the Wendigo. And then, a switch runner did a bunch of super fucked up stuff. As the when to go, first he killed him, he began to eat his wife.

Then he demanded that one of his sons kill another one of his sons, kill his own brother. Things continue to get more grotesque. And it was all according to Swiff Runner, the when to go's fault. And for eating some of his own son, Swiff Runner, I mean, the when to go, hung his infant son by his neck from a lodge pole, pulled down at the baby's dangling feet and Kelly just fixated him. Then he ate his own baby. He admitted to the police, he'd eaten his other boys, his brother, even his mother-in-law,

and supposedly I'm not making this up. Supposedly he told the officers that his mother-in-law tasted, quote, a bit tough. When I first read that detail, it made me laugh so hard. I just picture this whole scene. Why would he say that? Why would he single out his mother-in-law's being a bit tough? I just picture like these officers.

They're staring at it, and transphics, as they listen to the horror pouring out of his mouth. These details of the glorious, most disturbing crime they had ever encountered, they're shocked. Obviously, their man could do this to his family. The mood had to have been extremely tense. And then it's like, Swetfront tried to break the tension by making some kind of dark mother-in-law joke. Yes. True.

Killed an eight-my- entire family. Eight-my-own children. If you'd eat my baby. They were all, honestly, delicious. Except my mother-in-law. I mean, you get it. She was a bit tough in life. No surprise, bit tough to chew and swallow.

Ha, ha, ha. And real tough coming out of the other side if he catched my drift. Just when I thought she was finally dead and ripping me a new asshole. Come on. I know this is dark shit, but funny, funny. So the revolted mounted police party, Hall's Swift runner and the mutilated evidence back to Fortescachewon. Swift runner's trial began on August 8, 1879, and the judge and jury did not entertain the possibility that some Wendigo spirit was responsible for everything that had happened.

Swiftrunner was quickly found guilty of murder and magistrate Richardson sentenced him to be hanged. Although the Hudson's Bay Company had once hanged an employee for murder, this was the first formal execution in Western Canada. Based on these tales of cannibalism in the early 20th century, the term, when to go, found its way into the Western medical vocabulary, the legend lending its name to a disputed psychiatric disorder, one not listed in the DSM-5 known as the when to go psychosis.

This disorder, not really believed in today by many, characterized by the sometimes uncontrollable craving to eat human flesh, even when other food is nearby. All right, now let's dig into some of the best Wendigo stories we could find. I'll start with the first piece of Western fiction written about the Wendigo. I don't lay out some Wendigo stories that come straight from the oral storytelling traditions of the Ojibwe people, the second largest group of American Indians in Canada, and Algonquin, Band of Tribes, also known as the Chippewa. And we'll go over various tales of supposed Wendigo sightings, think Sasquatch sightings,

then I'll end our story examples with a tale of a real-life Wendigo hunter. And for that, we'll examine how the Wendigo still shows up in contemporary culture before bouncing on over to look at some additional American Indian folklore legends. At the first time the Wendigo jumped into the world of literature with the 1910, when British horror author, Al-Dron Blackwood, wrote a horror novella titled The Wendigo. Fame, fantasy horror and sci-fi author, HP Lovecraft, said of the story, another amazingly potent, though less artistically finished tale than Blackwood's The Willows is The Wendigo. Where we are confronted by horrible evidences of a vast forest demon about which Northwoods

lumbermen whisper at evening. Here is a summarized telling of this tale. Dr. Cathcott and his nephew, Divinity student Simpson, traveled to Northwestern Ontario to Hunt Moose. They are joined by local guides Hank Davis and Joseph Defago, and a camp cook called Punk. Dr. Cathcott and Simpson Oskartich, Cathcott loves to pontificate and discuss the nature of man. Simpson is a young wide-eyed, young youth,

excited for a new adventure. Davis is constantly cursing, rough around the edges, a master of the wilderness. Defago is a French Canadian wilderness master and the guy who likes to talk about his fur trading ancestors all the time. Punk's an American Indian of indeterminate nation is reserved serious and superstitious

with animal keen senses. He's a stereotype. This is written in 1910 after all. Moose being hard to find in October, the hunting party goes a week without finding a single trace of the beasts. They will suggest they split up and he and Cathcott, head west, Simpson and Defago had east

to a place called 50 Island Water. Defago's not thrilled. He hints at there being something wrong with 50 Island Water and Davis tells the Scottish hunters his friend had just scared over some old fairy tale. Obviously, little foreshadowing of the wind to go here. Defago declares he's not afraid of anything in the wild, agrees to travel east to 50 island water. While the other sleep the night before splitting up, punk senses something in the air. He literally creeps to the lakeside to sniff the air and detects a faint odor,

utterly unfamiliar, and the wind. And yes, he's been depicted as some kind of savagy animal with heightened senses. Not gonna speak in words, but real good as sniffing out monsters, no bueno. Ha ha, ah, awkward, again written in 1910. Simpson and Defago's trip to speak in words, but real good at sniffing out monsters. No bueno. Ha ha. Awkward. Again, written in 1910. Simpson and Defago's trip to the next day, the next day is taxing, but uneventful.

They camp on the shore of a great body of water. Simpson's impressed by the sheer scale and isolation of the Canadian wilderness. By the campfire that night, Defago is alarmed by an odour. Simpson doesn't detect. This is when he first mentions the Wendigo, the legendary monster of the North, fastest lightning, bigger than any other creature in the bush. Later that night, Simpson wakes to hear DeFuggle sobbing in his sleep. He is a strange voice crying DeFuggle's name from the darkness.

The guy that answers the call while rushing from his tent, out into the dark wilderness, after he disappears, Simpson hears the guy cry out, my feet of fire, my burning feet of fire, this heightened fire is speed. Pretty sure that phrase was scary 1910. The bar for horror, probably a little bit lower than it is now. After yelling his weird, burning feet gibberish, he grows quiet, too quiet.

Does an uncomfortable silence and then Simpson smells something, deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep deep The Cain leaves Earth, and all the various sins of the forest. He runs after Defago, and by the moonlight finds his tracks and the new fallen snow. Next to his tracks, and there are big monster-windigoo tracks. Tracks left by a giant animal, running with a long and powerful stride. He wonders how Defago could match these monstrously great strides. He doesn't know obviously that the Wendigo likes to hold your hand, and run with you for a while to the forest before picking you up an in your ass He doesn't know that the Wendigo has a super specific weird kill ritual

And he sees Defago's tracks gradually morph into miniature duplicates of the beast tracks Huh? And the tracks end as if their makers have taken flight High above and far away Simpson, then here is Defago's complaint about his burning feet of fire. Now, I can't take back what's there earlier about the Barbie lower. It's kind of creepy. He's talking about his burning feet. Story then cuts to the next day. Simpson returns alone to the base camp. He tells Kathat. Kathgoth, what he saw, Kathgoth, a shows him that the monster must have just been a bull moose.

Defago chased. Kathgoth and Davis accompany Simpson back to 50 island water to look for a Defago. They can't find any trace of him and fear he's run off to his death, then it's night again. Sitting around the campfire, Cascot tells everyone the legend of the Wendigo. He tells them how according to this legend, it summons its victims by name

and carries them off at such speed that their feet burn to be replaced by feet like its own. And he adds a super weird detail. He says that the Wendigo does not eat his victims. He says they only eat moss. Nazi that plot to his coming. Old, it's a moss windigo. It's a little known variant of the Wendigo that prefers a moss to human flesh. Overcome with, never mind the moss pot.

Overcome with grief. Davies then yells for his old partner. He cries out something huge flies overhead and DeFuggles voice drifts down to them. And then they all hear something crashing into dark branches overhead, followed by a thud into the frozen ground in the black distance. Moments later, they see DeFuggle. He yells at them, please get me some mass. Hurry, I'm starving for mass.

Boyle me some mass chili up already some and make me a mass biscuit or something he hasn't yell any of that staggers into camp wasted caricature face more animals and humans smelling of lion and forest he is now a windigo some kind of fucked up mass windigo but still a windigo davis declares this isn't his friend of 20 years, Cascot demands an explanation of Defago's ordeal. Defago whispers he's seen the when to go. He's been with it. Before he can say more, Davis howls for the others

to look at Defago's fucked up feet. Simpson sees dark and humane masses before Cascot throws a blanket over them. The feet of a monster. Moments later, a roaring wind sweeps the camp and Defago blunders back into the woods from a great height, his voice trails off, I burn in feat of fire! And the next day, for Aldous' foot-talk, Davis Simpson and Cascot returned to the base camp and find the real Defago alone, trying to build a fire. His feet, they are now frozen, he seems

delirious. A shell of his former self, Blackwood lets the reader know that his body will linger only a few weeks more and what about punk? Where is punk being this whole time? Punk's long gone, he saw Daphoggle limping toward camp, proceeded by the smell of the windigo and he bounced to get the fuck out. He knew Daphoggle had seen the windigo and the windigo had broken him and left him to die. The end. Ah yeah that's it. I didn't say it was a great story. I said it was a first fictional story. We're in about the when to go. No mention of cannibalism.

Why is that? Well, I'm guessing. Probably because people back in 1910 were even more rational and easily outraged than people are today. The probably would have demanded the book be burned for being obscene. If you know, they wrote about how DeFago is ripping fellow hunters limb from

limb and eating their flesh. Why, never, the undecency, the obscenity, the godlessness of this tale, we must think of the children. What will the children do if they are to read this? Why, they will start eating each other immediately, of course. The children will eat us all. each and each other immediately, of course, the children will eat us all. If they are innocent eyes, ever see this filthy, heathen drivel. This book, Blackwood refers to the hunters as various Nimrods. That was kind of cool. Nice little when to go Nimrod connection. Hail Nimrod, our great space, Sasquatch, Dady, Killy revealing himself to be spiritually connected to the when to go. Okay. Now, let's dig into some original, a jeepway, Wendigo tales dating back to Who Know's Wend right after a quick little sponsor break.

Now time for some OGBway Wendigo tales dating back to Who Know's Wend. We really don't have any idea when these stories originated due to the oral storytelling tradition of the OGBway peoples. No name or dates assigned any of these stories that have been passed down from one generation to the next for an untold amount of time. First story is called the Ojibwe who slew the when to go. Long ago the Ojibwe people were sick. A terrible epidemic was killing them.

There was a man called Odomen who got sick and died. In death, he traveled west to where it's more beautiful than the sunset. When he got to the river, that he would have to cross to the other side, the spirits asked him, why are you grieving, Odaman? He answered, because my people are dying. The spirits told Odaman that he was to return to the Ojibwe. He was to tell them that their teacher was coming to teach them about the good life. Their teacher would bring to the Ojibwe their He was to tell them that their teacher was coming to teach them about the good life. Their teacher would bring to the Ojibwe their rituals and ceremonies to help them get

over the hills and their lives, those sad and traumatic times that all experience. Over the years, the Ojibwe experienced many traumas. That is the way of the Wendigo. A story is told of the Wendigo running amuck amongst their people and killing them. There have been thousands of Ojibwe in many villages before the Wendigo came. The Wendigo was killing everyone, so when a Jibwe man challenged the Wendigo to erase, if the Ojibwe man won, the Wendigo would leave. They raced and the Ojibwe man lost. After that, the Wendigo continued killing their people.

As the Wendigo continued to kill the Ojibwe people, another Ojibwe man had a dream that he could defeat the Wendigo continued killing their people. As the Wendigo continued to kill the Ojibwe people, another Ojibwe man had a dream that he could defeat the Wendigo. In his dream, he talked to a grandma who shared a story. She told the man that she had traveled around to find out who was left. She had gathered the remaining Ojibwe children and took them with her and made them practice running upon a lake back and forth all day long, day after day, and preparation for the next race with the Wendigo. Fuck yeah, grandma gets it. You gotta train. You gotta put in some gym hours.

If you're gonna hope to defeat a Wendigo, you can't just roll up to the track. You know, no preparation, expect to be the monster. Big ass 15 foot tall. Crazy ass, you know rotten thing. You gotta pop off the blocks to beat that bitch. And then the story goes, there were 15 children remaining and each time a race occurred, another child died.

Ah, okay, that's a bummer. Okay, well, you know, maybe Graham would have some good kids to work with. Training can only take you so far. You know, if you don't have some natural talent. Says the grandma would be the last one to race the when to go. And then I think she dies

because she doesn't show up again in the story. So that's that's a bummer. It is a dream after all. Dreams are weird. The dude having this dream, now all of a sudden he's racing the when to go and he wins. Yes.

And the when to go dies. Cause that's what happens in this weird dream race. It's a dream death race. First place gives you, I don't know, bragging rights. And second place gives you death. First place gives you life. Second place gives you death. Now the wind goes brother, another wind to go,

demands to race the man and the OG way man whoops his ass too, this guy's grease lightning. But this wind to go, he doesn't die right away. He begs the OG way man for mercy, but the OG way man doesn't give him any mercy, calls him a liar and kills him too. And the new OG way man races around the land of his people and he slays many other when to go.

That regular when to go infestation, you have to take care of. And that is a terrible infestation, right? That's hard to find an exterminator. Take on that job. You call up and ask someone to come out and handle your termite infestation. Yeah, no problem. Go of course. Be right there. Ants, Yeah, you got a bud. See you in the sea tomorrow. Wendy goes. Click. Hello. Hello. The OG way man killed all but a few Wendy goes. Some

ran away to the north. They had the white walkers shut up in the north. And then the story ends with the OG way man, given the OG way children, they were a G way names so the world will now know who they are the end. So what is the story about? I think it's less about monsters and more about being a strong people, not losing your identity, not letting some oppressor kill your people.

Pretty sure the Wendigo symbolizes the white man in that tale. So I feel awkward as a white man. Say, no, but I think it's true. Ha, ha, let's move along to the next O-G-way story. This is the Wend go in the baby. It's a lot like that movie. Three men in a baby except it's completely different and every single way. So this story goes, one winter a newly married couple went hunting with the other people.

When they moved to the hunting grounds, a child was born to them. One day as they were gazing at him and his cradle board and talking to him, the child spoke to them. They were very surprised because he was too young to talk. Where is that sky spirit? Ask the baby. They say he is a very powerful. Or they say he is very powerful.

And someday I'm going to visit him. His mother grabbed him and said, you should not talk about the manadu that way. Manadu, by the way, powerful spirit. The old jeepway religion focused on the belief and power received from spirits during visions and dreams. Manadu would be a spirit synonymous with, I don't know, like Odin from Norse mythology or the Holy Ghost in Christianity. A few nights later, they fell asleep again with the baby and his cradleboard between them. In the middle of the night, the mother awoke and discovered that her baby was gone. She woke

her husband and he got up, started a fire and looked all over the wigwom for the baby. They searched the neighbor's wigwom, but could not find it. They lit the birch bark torches and searched the community looking for tracks. At last, they found some tiny tracks leading down to the lake. Man, tiny talking baby, just got them, walks a little bit of ass off right out of the wigwom down to the lake. That's a tough kid to raise. Halfway down to the lake, they found the cradle board and they knew that the baby himself had made the tracks had crawled out of his cradle board and was headed for Manadoo. The tracks leading from the cradle down to the lake were large, far bigger than human feet and the parents realized that their child had turned into

a Wendigo, the terrible ice monster who could eat people. They could see his tracks where he had walked across the lake. Man, that's the fucking worst when your baby turns into a when to go. That's a rough, rough day is apparent. I'll take a crying screaming colloquy baby over a when to go cannibal baby any day of the week. The sky spirit, Manadoo had 50 smaller men a dog or little people to protect him.

The men a dogs are lesser deities. When one of these menodogs threw a rock, it was a bolt of lightning as the Wendigo approached the Manado, or Menado, heard him coming and ran out to meet him and they began to fight. The menodogs knocked him down with a bolt of lightning. The Wendigo fell dead with a noise like a big tree falling. As he lay there, he looked like a big Indian,

but when the people started to chop him up, he was a huge block of ice. They melted down the pieces and found in the middle of the body, a tiny infant, about six inches long. The hole in his head with a manadog had hit him. This was the baby he would turn into a Wendigo. If the manadog had not killed it, the Wendigo would have eaten the whole village, the end. Fucked up story. of Eden, the whole village, the end. Ugh, fucked up story. Right, baby turned into a when to go, then some rock throwing minor god hit the when to

go with lighting and killed it, and then inside the when to go they find the baby, which at first sound like it's gonna be some really good news. Really quickly turns into like what looks like bad news because the baby has a wholeness head and the baby's dead, but that's actually the best news because the hungry cannibal baby was about to, you know, eat everyone in the village. So it was an emotional roller coaster. I think the moral of that story is sometimes you gotta kill a baby, you know,

to keep everybody else happy. I'm gonna read that one to my kids. I'm gonna remind them that sometimes in life, hard decisions have to be made, you know. Sometimes you gotta do what you feel is right to protect the greater good, and I'm just gonna stare at them quietly for an uncomfortable amount of time. Then just may not maintain eye contact and just kind of slowly back out of their rooms.

One more original when to go legend. No babies get killed in this one. So that's, yeah, that's pretty good. Yeah. Yeah. No baby killing. It's called the when to go in the girl. The villagers realized a when to go was coming when they saw a kettle swinging back and forth over the fire. No one was brave enough for strong enough to challenge this ice creature. I get it. No, I wouldn't be the first volunteer to fight some ugly when to go. After they had sent for a wise old grandmother who lived at the edge of the village, the little grandchild, hearing the old woman say she was without power to do anything, asked what was wrong. While the people moaned that they would all die, the little girl asked for two sticks of peeled sumac, as long as her arms.

She took these home with her, while the frightened villagers huddled together. That night it turned bitterly cold, the child told her grandmother to melt a kettle of talo over the fire. As the people watched, trees began to crack open, and the river froze solid. All this was caused by the wind to go, as tall as a white pine tree coming over the hill. I knew there were the white walkers from the Game of Thrones. The sumock stick gripped in each hand a little girl ran to meet him. She had two dogs which ran ahead of her and killed the Wendigo's dog.

And they have dogs sometimes I guess. Still the Wendigo came on. The little girl got bigger and bigger until when they met, she was as big as the Wendigo himself. That's nice. That's what the last story was missing. A little girl who could change size at will. I'm hoping the stick she was holding grew with her.

Otherwise, you know, now she'd be big which you have two little Teen Tiny sticks. I feel like everybody knows you need more than two Teen Tiny sticks, you know, to defeat a Wendigo with one sumock stick, she knocked him down, with the other, she crushed his skull because the sticks had turned to copper. Boom! Copper stick, trick!

Didn't see that coming. After she killed the one-to-go, it's a little girl swallowed the hot towelo and gradually grew smaller until she was herself again. That's how you move around in size. Tello, okay, all right. That's why I haven't been able to shift in size at will. Not enough Talo, my diet, not enough hard, fatty animal tissue and sew it, get needing. Everyone rushed

over to the window, and began to chop him up. He was made of ice, but in the center they found the body of a man, I was expecting a baby again, with his skull crushed in. The people were very thankful and gave the little girl everything she wanted at the end. Okay, all right, that's a good story. Little girl lives. Way better ending than the last tale. If I'm sitting around the camp farm, listen to the shaman, tell me some stories. That's the one I want to end on. That's the one I want to hear right before I fall asleep.

Not the dead baby one. If you're thinking, I don't know, I kind of prefer the dead baby story. I'm worried about you. And now let's talk about some supposed Wendigo sightings. Any chances legends are based on a real creature. Yeah, sure. Possible. Possible in the way that theoretically unicorns and saskwatches are possible.

The odds are very good, but technically possible. No one has presented scientific proof of a Wendigo, but there have been a lot of alleged sightings. Wendigo allegedly made a number of appearances near a town called Roso and Northern Minnesota from the late 1800s to the 1920s, porting the legend each time a sighting was reported and unexpected death followed,

and then finally it was seen no more. Roso, very interesting little town, way up in Northern Minnesota. Just over 2,000 people, just over 10 miles from the Canadian border. Been around since roughly 1900, always been tiny. A ton of notable people come out of this little frozen village. So many good hockey players by my count eight former NHL players have come from Rozo. Former NFL head coach for the Packers and the Patres. I mean, long time ago, Phil Banceton grew up there. Several politicians from Rozo, even an actor, model, Kirsten Dunst's ex-boyfriend Garrett

Headland, he's from Rozo. It's crazy. A lot of Wendigo's have supposedly been seen in Northern Ontario over the years. There's a cave in Northern Ontario called the Cave of the Wendigo. On Lake, oh boy, I couldn't find anything for this one. This is a tricky one. Like, Momma West, I couldn't find anything for this one. This is tricky one. Like, uh, Momma, Momma West, I don't know. Uh, near the town of Canora.

Inside this cave is a series of strange cave paintings of large, hairy, or hair covered men, believed to resemble the mythological creature of the Wendigo. The Wendigo has been spotted by traders, trackers, trappers, and moors in this area for decades. Uh, the vast majority of supposed Wendigo sightings, uh, have occurred between the 1800s and 1920s. Few reports, they've been trickling down to very little reports in recent years.

If you want a real scary recent when to go side in story, you had to listen to episode 37 and my scared to death podcast, cross promotion, deal with it, showbiz. Where has the when to go gone? Maybe the when to go is, I don know maybe it's even better hide and go seek than bigfoot A fewer sighting doesn't convince believers that this monster isn't real those who believe in the physical when to go think he's still out there on the woods Underneath that terrifying flesh eating demon there might still be a human man who was once just a hungry hunter and Now let's talk about a story I teased earlier. Talk about a real life pair a win to go hunters. The story is bananas. Not sexy bananas, regular old bananas. Jack Fiddler, also known as Zwanhu, Gizago, Gabao. It's best I can do that. He, he, he, who stands

in the Southern sky was a cream man born in either the 1830s or the 1840s, belong to the sucker clan of Sandy Lake, not at the sucker in there for like time suckers. Along the sucker clan of Sandy Lake, on the upper reaches of the seven river, or Severn River, river, excuse me, in Northwestern Ontario. He was renowned, renowned amongst his people for his healing abilities and for his power to fight all evil spirits. Bidler and his brother, Pescaquon, aka Joseph Fiddler, self-proclaimed Wendigo Hunters, who literally traveled around Eastern Canada, looking for people who were supposedly consuming

human flesh and killing them, not kidding. People would seek out these dudes when they got afraid of their family members or neighbors returning into one of these monsters and then Jack and Joseph would pull it them down. Supposedly, this pair of men killed 17 Wendigos. Or if you don't believe in the Wendigo, they killed 17 innocent people who thought they were Wendigos or who other people thought were Wendigos.

Jack and Joseph even killed their own brother Peter and he supposedly was about to turn into a Wendigo when the brothers ran out of food on a trading expedition. Maybe Peter was starting to turn into a when to go, when the brothers ran out of food on a trading expedition, maybe Peter was starting to turn into a when to go, or maybe he just got really hungry. And he forgot that he had two psychotic brothers. We should never talk about that too. By 1907, word of the brother's when to go killings

reached the Northwest Mount of Police, a patrol was dispatched to investigate. On their travels, the Mounties learned of a woman suspected of being possessed by the creature. She had been choked to death with a piece of string by Joseph and Jack. The brothers were arrested and charged with murder on June 15th. After 15 weeks of captivity, Jack escaped, fled into the woods and hanged himself. Did he think he might be starting to turn into a when to go? Did he kill himself to keep him transformed into a monster? I wouldn't doubt it. His brother Joseph trial began a week later. He was quickly found guilty ordered

to hang as well. Following Joseph's conviction, some question whether the brother should have been punished for committing an act that actually wasn't an offense in their culture. Because it's crazy. This sounds some of the people they killed asked them to kill them. They asked to be killed to keep them from turning into when to go. Before, Jack gave a statement to the police in which he insisted that, quote, I did not know what I was doing was wrong. And if I had known, I would not have done the deed. Before Joseph's execution date, he died from illness and then directly following his death in 1910.

After losing two other leaders, the Sandy Lake clan signed Treaty 5 with the Canadian federal government ending their freedom and forcing them onto a reservation. I just will random trivia prior to this treaty. They were one of the very last American Indian tribes in North America to still live outside of any jurisdiction of some former colonial government. While as I said earlier, sightings of the Wendigo have tapered off and knowing that we know of is actively hunting them and trying to kill them any longer, the Wendigo is still around in a sense, showing up fairly often in 20th and 21st century culture. A great monster based on the Wendigo named Ithiqua shows up in HP Lovecrafts, the midst

of Chathulu, Everid Stephen King's pet cemetery, one of the best creepy lines ever uttered in a horror movie. If you've seen the movie, a little gauge back from the dead killing his family, calm as dad saying, first I play with Judd, damn, Mommy came. I play with Mommy. We play Daddy, but an awfully good time. Now I want to play with you. It's obviously so creepy.

Such a good horror movie, at least the 1989 version. I'd be happy to see the remake. Stephen King himself said this is the scariest story he's ever written. In this book, the Wendigo was responsible for reanimating whatever animal or human was interred in an old Mick-Max cemetery, which the Mick-Max stopped using because they believed the land was sour.

The Wendigo manipulated events throughout the story, infecting the character's minds as they became more stone-hearted and susceptible to the ancient evil. With her human or pet, the resurrected cadavers came back horribly altered. They were strange, and vicious, and rotten. They were nothing more than human hosts for the evil spirit of the Wendigo lurking out in the woods. A variety of other noted authors have also written about the Wendigo. And the Wendigo appears in various role-playing games today, such

as Dungeons and Dragons and Werewolf, the Apocalypse, on television references to the Wendigo include the series Supernatural. They began in 2005 and the series Hannibal that ran from 2013 to 2015. The show's supernatural. I think it's just wrapping up now. It's had a crazy long run. It's shown up in several other series from around the world. In the world of video games, the Wendigo shows up in multiple games, including Untel Don, which player drives a group of teenagers who must survive the Wendigo in one night on Mount Blackwood.

A nice reference there to the author that 1910, my feeder burning up Wendigo story. Then there's the world of comic books and graphic novels. Starting in the 70s, Marvel Comics co-opted the Wendigo legend, taking myths about a bone thin forest demon, subtly sculpting them into a comic book villain, eight feet tall covered muscle. When the ghost service, the Hulk antagonist, a man cursed with primal hunger after committing an active cannibalism in the Canadian wilderness and cool nerd trivia alert.

It was during a Hulk versus when the go comic that Wolverine made his first ever appearance. The incredible Hulk issued number 181 released in November of 1974. That was when that Wolverine showed up written by Len Wein, drawn by John Ramirez Sr. Scrap a little dude still had a significant amount of rebranding to do before he would become a household name. He looked different. He had whiskers at the time.

He's smaller, but he still managed to whoop. Wendy goes asked without using any silver at all, establish himself as a new awesome superhero. Hugh Jackman should be very thankful for the when to go legend, led to the most profitable and iconic acting role of his career. The when to go first appeared in the Marvel universe in the incredible Hulk number 162, April 1973 in the Marvel universe, the when to go not one specific person, but instead the manifestation of a curse that can strike anyone who commits an act of cannibalism in the Canadian north woods.

So stayed pretty true to the folklore. Originally only one person can become a when to go at a time, but then in recent years, a whole pack of when to go has been shown up. There's a when to go infestation right now in the Marvel universe near the barren straight. One point to when to go curse even infected the Hulk turning him into into when to Hulk when to Hulk when that movie coming out. It's a badass mashup. So that's the when to go. Pretty cool stuff right. We've talked about crazy gods and creatures in North mythology before all the crazy characters and showed up in the Greek mythology suck. American Indians also had their own fascinating folklore creatures and tales. So many stories being told long before Europeans made it over to this continent.

Now let's share some more stories. Let's talk about some others. Lot more unique legends out there than the Wendigo legend. Lot more stories. And like almost all old stories from people around the world, most of these legends have a pretty large amount of what the fuck in them. So they're fun. We're going to have some fun with these.

Let's start with the Stoneish Giants. The Stoneish Giants were believed by the Eryquai, to be an ancient group of gigantic men who would roll themselves in mud, which became stone so strong their arrows would simply bounce off. Nice. They were just some regular old kind of giants. This happened to have real bad personal hygiene. They bathed so little, rolled around in so much mud, pretty soon their skin became stone. You couldn't kill them with an arrow. The stone is giant to attack the Eirquai and the other original sick nations, six nations of the North Eastern Americas for many years and then finally a long brutal war pushed these dirty assholes back into the woods.

Thankfully, many oral legends about these monsters were recorded by David Kusik, an airquive born on the O'Nighter Reservation in upstate New York around 1780. Kusik's book, Sketches of Ancient History of the Six Nations, published in 1828, one of the earliest, if not the earliest, account of American Indian folklore ever written in English. He first published the account in a 28-page pamphlet actually the year before in 1827. Here's a summary of some different legends about these creatures that he wrote down. In one tale, the Stonis giants who overran the country fought a great battle, held the people in sub-subjection, subjugation for a long time.

The Stonis, I'm assuming, I mean, it's supposed to be subjugation. The Stonis giants were so ravenous that they devoured the people of almost every town in the country. At the Mississippi River, they had the people of almost every town in the country. At the Mississippi River, they had separated from all others and gone to the northwest. The family was left to seek its habitation and the rules of humanity were forgotten. And afterwards, eat raw flesh of the animals. At length, they practiced rolling themselves on the sand. By this means their bodies were covered with hard skin. These people became giants and were dreadful invaders of the country. The holder of the heavens led them into a deep ravine

near the Owen Daga, and rolled great stones on them in the night. But one escaped, and since then, the stoneist giants left the country and seek asylum in the regions of the North. The Owen, Oh, Annen, Annen Daga's, tell a different tale about the stoneist giants. They say that a stone giant lived in a little south of their reservation.

He was once like other men, a great eater, come into cannibal and increase his eyes. More cannibalism. His skin became hard and changed into scales, which alone would turn an arrow. Every day he came to the valley, caught and devoured an Anandogga, a fearful toll that people were dismayed but informed to plan. They made a road in the marsh with the covered pitfall, decoyed the giant through the path and down he went and was killed. When the giant was found, the Anandaga saw that he was made of stone. One of the most widely known stone giant stories has a title I love.

It's a funny one. It's a funny one. It's a funny one in the stone love. It's a it's a fun word to say. Sconey Wondy. Sconey Wondy in the Stone Giant. Sconey Wondy sounds like a band name for some super weird Indie rockers like guys who only release their music on vinyl and A tracks. Nothing digital. Guys who always look down at the floor when they play live, always cut their set a little bit short. Here's a story. Long time ago, they lived a person called Sconey Wondy. Sconey Wondy wasn't very big and he wasn't very small. And everybody knew him well because he was always boasting about his bravery. He would talk about all the brave things he had done and all the brave things he was going to do until people would beg him to stop.

They weren't quick to do so, however, because Sconey Wondy, whose name meant cross the creek, loved only one thing more than he loved to stop. They weren't quick to do so, however, because Sconey Wondy, whose name meant cross the creek, loved only one thing more than he loved to boast, he loved playing tricks on people. Oh, this Sconey Wondy character, real rap scallion. Now, in those days, there lived some terrible monsters. There were people who could turn themselves into monster bears, and there were great flying heads who could destroy whole villages, and talk about them more in a little bit. The remonsters hiding in the springs who grabbed careless travelers and great horned serpents living in lakes, but the most frightening monsters of all with the stone giants.

The old sati-chim, aka chief, was interested. Aren't you even afraid of the stone giants? He asked Gunny Wande. Ha! Said Scunny Wande. I will destroy the stone giants if they dare to fight me. There is no greater warrior than Sconey Wondy." Without his noticing it everyone crept quiet away and left Sconey Wondy standing there

shaking his stone hatchet and boasting. While he strode up and down all the people gathered in the council house, soon a young man came out and ran out of the village only to return a few minutes later. Sconey Wondy did not even notice. All the people led by the old satiom came out of the council house and gathered around Sconey Wondy. The old man said, Sconey Wondy, rejoice. We have decided to give you a chance to prove your bravery. Sconey Wondy stopped striding back and forth. He looked around, all eyes in the village were focused upon him. Ah, he said, with a worried look. That is, that is very good.

But what do you mean? Oh shit, Scotty Wondy, you done did it! Your mouth just kept writing checks, now your ass is gonna have to catch him. We have decided the old man said, with just a hint of a smile, to allow you to fight the Flint coats. Now the Flint coats,

that's just another name for the Stone Giants. Oh, Scottney Wondee said that is good. But how can I find the Stone Giants? Why they might even run away when they see me coming. Do not worry, the old man answered smiling broadly. A very big Stone Giant stands even now on the other side of the river. He is waiting for you.

We sent a messenger to him. He should, that he should run away before the mighty warrior, Sconey Wondy arrived to destroy him. And that made the stone giant very angry. He swore he would stay there until you arrived. Pretty sure Sconey Wondy shits himself, starts crying at this point in some of the stories. In this tale, Sconey Wondy was very frightened, but he knew he had to accept his challenge.

If he didn't, people would never stop making fun of him. Ha, Sconey Wondy said that is good. I shall go now to fight the Flint coat. He strode quickly out of the village. However, as soon as he was out of sight, he began to walk more slowly. He needed time to think, how could he defeat such a monster? If I throw rocks at sight, he began to walk more slowly. He needed time to think. How could he defeat such a monster?

If I throw rocks at him, he said to himself, he'll catch them and chew them up like ripe berries. If I shoot arrows at him, they'll snap like blades of dry grass. No, I must think. Stone giants aren't very bright after all. Perhaps I can think of some way to trick him. Ah, good luck, skinny Wondy. You're gonna need it.

Just then, skinny Wondy heard a very loud, frightening noise. It sounded like the beating of a gigantic drum with a roaring of a hurricane wind. It came from the direction of the river just beyond the trees. Sconey one, de-crep closer. He peered out from behind a tree, saw what he had been afraid he would see. There on the other side of the river stood the biggest, ugliest, angry, a stone giant. Anyone could ever imagine. He had pulled a giant pine tree up by the roots and was beating it against the earth making a noise like an enormous drum As he pounded the ground. He sang a terrible war song and a voice as loud as a hurricane

Better run scunny find a new tribe started a new life. This is suicide mission Scunny one day began to turn around so that he could tip toe away wave, but it was too late. Oh, the stone giant roared. Who was over there? Are you Sconey Wondey who says he can destroy me? Sconey Wondey stepped out from behind a tree. Yes, he shouted, I am Sconey Wondey, and it is true that I can destroy you. Come over here and fight me. Oh, look, all sconey. Raver than I figured he was going to be. Holding the giant pine tree in one hand like a war club, the stone giant waited to the river. The water was deep.

Before he was halfway across, he disappeared under the water. Quick as a fox, sconey one, he hurried upstream where the river was shallow and quickly crossed over to the other side. Before long, the stone giant's head came out of the water near the other side. He climbed up onto the bank where Sconey Wondy had been standing. Oh, the Stone Giant roared. Where is Sconey Wondy? Here I am. Shouted Sconey Wondy from the other side. The Stone Giant turned and looked at him. Why did you go over there? He growled. Over where, Sconey Wondy asked, I'm still waiting for you. You must have gotten turned around under water.

If you want afraid of me, come over here and fight. The stone giant roar with anger and rushed into the river again. He immediately disappeared under the water and Sconey One Day had to run quickly to cross over back to the other side of the river. He ran so fast, he dropped his stone hatchet and left it behind. God damn it, Sconey! How could you be so careless careless? It one thing to hold on to. Your hatchet. And the stone giant climbed out of the water again. There was no sign of Scunny Wondy, but right in front of him. Well, Scunny Wondy's hatchet. What is this?

Groud the stone giant. This must be a toy. He lifted the hatchet to his mouth, touched it to his tongue to test its sharpness. Then he struck Sconey Wondy's hatchet against a real boulder and to his surprise, the boulder split right in two. Meanwhile Sconey Wondy was watching from the other side of the river. He had heard that any weapon touched by the saliva of a stone giant would have magical power and now he knew that was true. That's why he dropped.

Okay, Sconey. Okay, all right. Respect. I see what you did there. Crafty ol' Scunny Wondy. Scunny Wondy slipped out from behind the trees, waved his arms, ah, Scunny Wondy shouted, come over here and bring me back my hatchet

so I can cut your head off with it. For the first time in his long life, the stone giant felt fear in his cold, flint heart. If Scunny Wondy's little stone hatchet could split boulders and two, Sconey Wendy would surely be able to destroy him. No, played with the giant. Do not kill me.

You are a terrible warrior. Let me go when I will see that none of my people ever come near your village again. Sconey Wendy pretended to think for a minute. But your nose head he was like fuck you have, bro. Fuck you. Then he nodded his head. That is good. You may go and save your life, but always remember, Sconey Wondy is a great warrior. Stone giant hastened away leaving Sconey Wondy's hatched on the river bank. As soon as he was out of sight, Sconey Wondy crossed over

and retrieved his weapon. Now I must return to my village. My people will be very glad to hear the stories. I shall tell them. Thus it was that Scotty Wondey used his wits to defeat the stone giant, the end. I'm not gonna lie. End of that story was a bit of a lead down for me. Happy Scotty Wondey didn't get crushed, but really helping for a battle.

Really helping for a little bit of action. I'll expect any Scotty Wondey movies to get greenlit anytime soon. Pretty anti-climatic. I get the lesson though. You gotta use your brains rather than your blade whenever you can. Oh man, if sconey-wondy was obnoxious before, whoo! He's gonna be intolerable after this. He's until that store for the rest of his life. Oh yeah, yeah, okay. You tricked the Stone Giant. I've heard this story for, I don't know, 5,000 times. Come on, it's gone. Now let's talk about the Mohawk legend of the flying head. Also known as whirlwind or big head, the flying head is also related to the Plains tribes legend of the rolling head. A lot of giants, cannibals, and big heads, American Indian

folklore. Flying heads are undead monsters, kind of like zombies. Flying head appears as a huge disembodied head with fiery eyes and long tangled hair. It flies through the air, pursuing humans to chase and devour them. You know, I'm already thinking of a flying head movie, better than a skinny one-to-movie. The origin of the flying head, you know, legend very greatly from story to story, tribe to tribe, and some tales of flying heads created from a violent murder scene. The severed head of a victim grows to enormous size, or sometimes the head emerges from a mass grave, and other stories human is transformed into a flying head after committing an act of cannibalism.

There we go again, cannibalism. Always back to cannibalism. Real problem. The ancient American Indian history. Here is one old flying head legend. There were many evil spirits and terrible monsters that hid in the mountain caves when the sun shone, but came out to vex and plague the native men

when storms swept the earth or when there was darkness in the forest. Among them was a flying head, when it rested upon the ground was higher than the tallest man. It was covered with a thick coating of hair that shielded it from the stroke of arrows. The face was dark and angry, filled with great wrinkles and horrid furrows.

Long black wings came out of its sides, and when it rushed through the air, mournful sounds assailed the ears of frightened men and women. On its underside were two long sharp claws with which its towards food and attacked its victims. Damn. It makes the wind go seem like no big deal. It's a nasty-ass monster.

My-my give Baba Yaga a run for her monster money. The flying head came most often to frighten the women and children, came at night to the homes of the widows and orphans. Oh, that's real asshole. Beat his angry wings upon the walls of their houses and uttered fearful cries in an unknown tongue. Then it went away in a few days' death, followed and took one of the little family with him. The maiden to whom the flying head appeared never heard the words of a husband's wooing, or the prattle of a papuce, for a pestilence came upon her, and she soon sickened and died.

As flying head of a all piece of shit. One night a widow sat alone in her cabin. From a little fire burning near the door, she frequently drew roasted acorns and ate them for her evening meal. She did not see the flying head grinning at her from the doorway. For her eyes were deep in the coals and her thoughts upon the scenes of happiness, in which she dwelt before her husband and children had gone away to the long home. The flying head stealthily reached forth, one of its long claws and snatched some of the colds of fire and thrust them into its mouth. Or thought these were what the

woman was eating, with a hull of pain, it flew away, and the native men never afterwards were troubled by its visits. That's how you trick a giant flying monster head and leaving you alone. You got to trick it into eating some hot coals, noted. Super tough monster with one huge weakness, super fucking dumb. You can be easily tricked into eating hot coals. All you have to do is just make a fire and stare at coals. Another creepy American Indian entity is the doe. This is a little tough. It's the do zoo no quad. Do zoo no quad. The do zoo no quad. Okay, the wild woman of the basket. Ogris is a figure in the quak walka, you walk mythology. Man, this is all the words in this language are tough. So people come from the

coast of the Pacific Northwest. She's a mixed bag monster, the basket. Ogris. So you can bring you wealth, but you can also steal your kids and carry them home in her basket to eat. She's a mixed bag monster, the basket ogres. So you can bring you wealth, but you can also steal your kids and carry them home in her basket to eat. She is the perfect monster to run into. If you need money and be, want to get rid of a couple annoying kids. She appears as a naked black as midnight ugly monster woman with long, pendulous breasts. She uses her pendulous breasts as her weapons, twisting her body back and forth, slapper prey down to the ground with a fierce monster titties. Sometimes she'll do a kind of helicopter spin move with a long old boob clubs, whirlin' them in rallin' them in whirlin' them in

whirlin' them and pounding you with a razor nipples over and over, beating you ruthlessly with the frosh of saggy, titty clubs. I shouldn't do any of that. I shouldn't do any of that with her boots. But she is described as having long, pendulous breasts, and that's where my mind went with all that. She's also described as having bedrackled hair and masks and totem poles.

She is shown with bright red purse lips. She is said to give off the call, who? And she has a kid. Doesn't get mentioned much, but she does have a kid hanging around somewhere. Poor kid. Can't imagine she's an awesome mom.

It's often our children are often told that the sound of the wind blowing to the trees is actually the call of the Duzunacua. Some men say that she's able to bring herself back from the dead in ability. She uses in some myths to revive her children and regenerate any wound. She's like Wolverine.

If Wolverine had wispy hair and long ass titties, man, if Wolverine looked like that, that'd give the X-Men movies a real different feel, wouldn't it? She has limited eyesight, can easily be avoided because she can barely see. She's also said to be dim-witted. Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha. She's not coming across super fearful, or you know, super scary, excuse me at the moment.

Now, I mean, yeah, yeah, she's a monster, sure, but she's also old, dumb. She can't see very well, but she possesses great wealth, and she will bestow it upon you if you're able to gain control of her kids. I'm gonna say how are you supposed to do that, though? Now, let's talk about one of the very few American Indian folklore creatures I had heard about prior to the suck other than the when to go, the Thunderbird. Thunderbird widespread figure in American Indian mythology in the US and Canada shows up in various forms and a lot of different people's legends. I described as a supernatural, enormous bird.

Thunderbird is generally portrayed as a force for good. Thunderbird the creature of power and strength that protects humans from evil spirits. Called the Thunderbird because of the flapping of its powerful wings sounds like thunder lightning and shoot out of its eyes Fuck yeah, I be a sweet-ass power Man if I got you lightning out of my eyes, I have to work a lot harder to keep from ever getting real hungry Fools be getting lightened and up left and right every time a blood sugar got low Uh the thunderbirds would bring rain and storms which could be good or bad good when the rain was needed bad when the rain came with The destructive strong winds floods and fires caused by lightning kind of a Thor

Figure here the the bird said to be so large several legends tell it picking up a whale in his talents It's a big-ass bird Thunderbird said to have bright and colorful feathers with sharp teeth and claws that lived in the clouds high above the tallest mountains And Algonquin mythology the Thunderbird controls the upper world while the underworld is controlled by the underwater panther or the great horn serpent From which the Thunderbird protects humans by throwing lightning at it According to these legends Thunderbirds ancestors of the human race and they helped create the universe The monomy it was constant tell of a great mountain that floats in the western sky and that's what the Thunderbirds live. From there they control the rain. Thunderbirds, enemies of

the great horn snakes called the Masiginabik. Masiginabik, they fight to prevent them from overrunning the earth and devouring mankind. Said to be messengers of the great sun himself and delight and deeds of greatness. The OGB way version of the Thunderbird legend is similar, but in this legend, the Thunderbirds fight underwater spirits. Their traditions also say that Thunderbird is responsible for punishing humans who break moral rules. They say that the bird was created by non-obzo, a boso, non-aboso,, a high spirit cultural hero and that the birds lived in the four directions and migrated to a jeabway land during the spring with other birds.

Thunderbirds then stayed until the fall when the most dangerous season for underwater spirits had passed. I often forget about that, the underwater spirit dangerous season. People were like, hey, you can wanna go for a walk? No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, it's April. Thunderwater Spirit season.

You fucking get me? Then they migrate itself to other birds. And there's the Winnebago. Winnebago say that the man who has a vision of a Thunderbird during a solitary fast will become a war chief. I also believe that the Thunderbird is the power to grant people great abilities. The Thunderbird of the Sue people

was a noble creature that protected humans from the Unk Tehila, the Unk Tehila, dangerous reptilian monsters. Talk about those monsters for a second. In Lakota folklore, the Unk Tehila, massive snake lady with eyes of fire, fangmouth, shrouded in smokey or cloudy mass, long scaly body whose natural armor is almost impenetrable, her claws are like iron and her voice rages like thunder in the clouds.

Whoever looks upon her will go blind or become insane to kill her. One has to shoot a medicine arrow directly into her heart. So many monsters. Back to the Thunderbirds. Some believe they were shape-shifters, often changing their appearance to interact with people. To the Shawnee tribe, they appeared as boys could only be identified by their tendency to speak backwards. Some tribes, Thunderbirds, were considered extremely sacred forces in nature,

and others, they were treated like powerful, but otherwise ordinary members of the animal kingdom. Many legends reference the anger of the Thunderbirds, as something fearsome to behold, it results in harsh punishments. One story in entire village would turn to stone by some Thunderbirds for the wrong doings.

Some believed that the thunderbird mythology began way back with the ancient mound builders of North America. Throughout history, the thunderbird symbol has appeared on totem poles, pottery, heteroglyphs, masks, jewelry and carvings. Okay, four more American Indian monster summaries, little quick hits here. First up, the Ghost Witch. One of the scariest figures in Mac Mac mythology, the Ghost Witch, often said to be born from the dead body of a shaman who practiced black magic.

The demonic entity emerges at night from the shaman's corpse with murder on its mind. They can be killed with fire, but beware of approaching one simply making eye contact or hearing the witch's voice. You can bring a diabolical curse down on the unwary. That leads to nothing but bad luck and an untimely death. Here's an old ghost witch story. An old witch was dead, and his people buried him in a tree up amongst the branches

in a grove that they used for a burial place. Sometime after this, in the winter and Indian and his wife came along looking for a good place to spend the night. They saw the grove went in and built their cooking fire. When their supper was over, the woman looking up saw long dark things hanging amongst the tree branches. What are they?" She asked.

They are only the dead of long ago, said her husband. I want to sleep. What? Dude. Why before saying I want to sleep would you ever tell your wife that the dead or up in the tree branches above you say some birds and I'll say some squirrels or some shit Anything other than the dead That would not play well with my wife Lindsey You know if she woke up scared baby do you hear that

There's something outside of our tent But Lindsey go go back to sleep. Now I hear it now you hear it. Don't it's just it's just the dead of long ago Just some old zombies. That's been it, now I hear it. It's just the dead of long ago. Just some old zombies. Nothing to worry about. Now let me get some shot. This man's wife didn't like it either. She said, I don't like it at all.

I think we better sit up all night. The man would not listen to her. He went to sleep. Soon the fire went out. Then she began to hear a nine sound like an animal with a bone. She sat still very much scared all night long. About Don, she could stand it no longer

and reached out, tried to wake her husband But could not she thought him sound asleep the gnawing had stopped When daylight came she went to her husband and found him dead with his left side not away in his heart gone Buddy, he's got ghostwitched to listen to your lady She turned and ran Last she came to a lodge where there were some people here She told her story, but they would not believe it thinking she had killed the man herself They went with her to the place there. They found the man with his heart gone line under the burial tree

With the dead witch right over head. They took the body down and unwrapped it the mouth and face were covered with fresh blood All right before we move on Sorry about this, but one more quick sponsor, everybody. Today's time stock is brought to you by Woody's spirit supplies and more spectral Emporium. Hey, everybody. It's me, Woody. Hey, Anton, hit those cloppy offers if you would, sir.

We sure have been talking about a lot of monsters today. Maybe they're not real. Sure. And maybe a ghost witch here. Wendy goes going to eat you alive. Ha ha ha. Why do these creatures get you by tricking you? In order for them to not trick you,

you have to not be able to hear them. If you ever call months ago, try to sell you my Biazza booby and frogs. They don't just keep sightting out of your sound holes. They also keep wind goes, goes wedges, basket hoses, blind heads, and other creepy cryptic crawlies. Listen to how good they work. You hear plug in.

Ha ha ha, see? You hear plug out? But I heard it goes again. So, if I was going to want to spare surprise and more, expect from Emporium.be's, and help me find Charles government. I haven't seen him in months. I want since I stabbed him for some more liquor money. Here's a wild knot. Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee I just wanted to hear from Woody. Fell right and it had been too long. Back to more monsters.

From American Indian folklore, some ladies that might have been scared in the ghost witcher, the owl women, aka the tattakleah. From the Yakima band of tribes, New York City, New York City, New York City, New York City, New York City, New York City, New York City, New York City, New York City, New York City, New York City, New York City, New York City, New York City, New York City, New York City New York City, New York City, New York City, New York City, New York City, New York City, New York City, New York City, New York City, New York City, New York City, New York City, New York City, New York City, New York City, New York City, New York City, New York

City, New York City, New York City, New York City, New York City, New York City, New York City, New York City, New York City, New York City, New York City, New York City, New York City, New York City, New York City, New York City, New York City, New York City, New York City, New York City, New York City, New York City, New York City, New York City, New York City, New York City, New York City, New York City, New York City, New York City, New York City, New York City, New York City, New York City, New York City, New York City, New York City, New York City, New New York City, New York City, New York City, New York City, New York City, New York City, New New York City, New York City, New York City, New York City, New York City, New York City, New City, New York City, New York City City, New Dwelling in caves by day flying out at night to pray on all manner of creatures including of course humans Almost all American Indian monsters mostly want to eat people It's one of the main things I'm taking away from this episode Almost every mythological monster in North America just mostly wants to eat me Uh, these monsters were said to prefer the taste of children. Okay up up in the ante

Ow women are just cannibals their cannibals with a with a taste for kids Legend has it that the hunt humans by mimicking our languages. The owl itself, a symbol of death and many American Indian cultures. So, owl women, essentially walking embodiments of death itself. Next up, surprise, surprise, more cannibals. Some scary little cannibals, the Tahaihan. Among the most dreaded figures in Shayan and Arapaho,

and other planes, people, legends, is the ta'ahan the ta'ahan Savage child-sized humanoids incredibly strong often attacking large numbers. So wheat According to some myths the ta'ahan or fear some warriors in a previous life Resurrected as dwarves after dying in battle most of those tales say they were finally wiped out by the lions of several tribes The best way to defeat these creatures to use your wits because they are also like a lot of the other monsters pretty dumb. Hordeon I's story published in the handbook of Native mythology, a warrior was captured by a Taihahan. Taihahan, to try and delay his inevitable death, he struck up a conversation with him. As they talked to warrior noticed, there were a lot of little hearts hanging on the wall around him.

Heart not to notice that. And he asked the Taihahan, what the gruesome organs were, the creature told him that they were the hearts of his relatives who were out hunting at the time. Why are you fucking, why do you say that? And then the dumb Taihaan let this warrior casual walk around and just examine each heart. And each heart he examined he would pierce with a knife. And the Taihaan didn't realize that by piercing these hearts this warrior was killing his family. And then with the final stab,

the warrior pierced the heart of the Taihawn who was holding him captive in the creature immediately dropped dead. Ah, poor little monster. So powerful, but just too dumb, to really be an effective monster. And last one is the monster you probably heard of the skinwalker.

The Yi Nanyal Dushi, ah, man, I can't say that one. Spoke of mainly a Navajo folklore. Skinwalker essentially the North American equivalent of the werewolf. Similar to a when to go. Most tales of skinwalker is a magical or cursed human being. Usually a shaman takes part in a heretical ceremony, designed to summon evil forces that he may take

on the characteristics of an animal. That animal can take on many forms including wolves, bears and birds, that the shaman stays too long in his new animal form. He can lose his humanity completely. Now he's a skinwalker. A shapeshifting skinwalker of American Indian legend takes on various forms across tribes. Most agree on what it looks like. A deformed, animalistic body, marred face, blazing, oran dread eyes. Non-native America got its first real taste of the Navajo legend in 1996. When Salt Lake City's oldest newspaper, Deseret News published an article titled Frequent Flyers

question mark. The story chronicle of Utah family traumatized experience with a supposed creature that included cattle mutilations, disappearances, UFO sightings, and the appearance of crop circles. Family's most-adjusting encounter occurred one night just 18 months after moving onto the ranch. Terry Sherman, father of the family family was walking his dogs around the ranch late at night when he says he encountered a wolf and he says this was no ordinary wolf. It was perhaps three times bigger than normal wolf glowing red eyes. It stood on phase by three close range shots. Sherman blasted into its hide. Words bred that maybe instead of extra terrestrials, big wolves, maybe skin walkers, well what was going on in the ranch?

Sherman family, not the only ones to be traumatized on the property, after they moved out, several new owners experience eerily similar encounters with these creatures and today the ranch has become a hub of paranormal research, aptly renamed skinwalker ranch. So much of the story, I think we'll save a deeper dive on it for another day, I'd like to dedicate

an entire suck to it eventually. If you just need a little more skin walker in your life right now, listen to episode 27 of Scared of Death Podcasts. I'm part of it's fantastic. Skin walker's episode cross promotion. Hey, I'll lose the fena. So that's today's episode. We barely only scratch the surface of American Indian folklore. So many different gods, so many different monsters, so many rich and imaginative stories, like the ancient histories of so many of the world's cultures, these creatures and tales are featured in, used to teach morality, tribal culture, taboos, creation and history. The ancient lore of the indigenous peoples of North America is varied and far-reaching as the continent itself. Unless you're well versed in native lore, it's easy not to realize how many of

these tales are populated by horrifying spirits ghost which is demons and monsters Many of the frightening creatures we spoke of today span multiple tribes in some cases hundreds of generations Investigate their origins further. You'll see they have many different names and traits depending on where their tale is told Hope you found all of this as entertaining as I did Now time for today's top five takeaways. Time, suck, top five takeaways. Number one, the earliest version of the Wendigo legend that we know of comes from the Algonquin-based

American Indian tribes and describes an evil spirit or demonic entity able to possess humans and in some cases transform into humans' bodies. This malevolent spirit driven by its insatiable hunger able to possess humans and in some cases transform into humans, you know, bodies. This malevolent spirit driven by its insatiable hunger for human flesh, any human possessed by it soon will be consumed by cannibalistic urges. Number two, the Wendigo also a lesson in gluttony, according to Algonquin myths or Algonquin, Algonquin myths, there we go Algonquin.

Once a Wendigo eats another person, it grows directly in proportion to the person that just consumed, making it impossible to ever feel full. The when to go, a monster of more. If you constantly feel unsatisfied in life, feel like you always need more, a little more money, a little bit of car, more, more, more. Well, you got a little when to go in you. Number three, the when to go continues to live on as more and more authors and storytellers adopt the creature into their own universes.

Creatures inspired one of my favorite horror movies ever, one of my favorite horror books ever, Stephen King's pet cemetery. Number four, watch out for the Zona Claw. If you're not paying attention, that old basket ogre might just beat you to death with a long floppy war titties. Number five, something new, one more monster. There's another American Indian creature similar to the Wendigo known as the Wachugay. The Wachugays, a man eating creature

or evil spirit appearing in the legends of the Atabasca people. Their mythology has said to be a person who's been possessed or overwhelmed by the power of one of the ancient giant spirit animals. Canadian anthropologist and professor Robin Ridington came across stories of the way Chugay, while speaking with the Danesah of the Peace River region in Western Canada.

The Danesah believe that one can become a way Chugay by breaking some pretty random taboos that don't have anything to do with cannibalism. Taboos that can get you turned into a way Chugay, include having your photo taken with a flash, listed in the music made with a stretch string or hide, like guitar music, or eating meat with fly eggs in it. So, some of a bitch.

I'm gonna be away Chugay any day now, cause I do two out of three of those all the time. Listening to guitar-based music constantly, and I can't stop eating, flying, that's me, you know? Like the when to go, the way Chugay seeks to eat people, of course they do, always back to eating people. And one folktale, the way Chugay seeks to eat people. Of course they do, always back to eating people. And one folk tale, the way Chugay is made of ice, very strong and is only killed by being thrown on the campfire.

And kept there overnight and tell it is melted. Being the way Chugay considered a curse and a punishment. Time suck, tough, right takeaway. This tale of the Wendigo has been sucked. I loved it, I hope you did. Unlike the has been sucked. I loved it. I hope you did. Unlike the when to go, I feel full. I feel full of weird monsters right now.

I like it. My appetite. Let's say it. Thank you to the Time Suck team for helping put another episode together. Queen of the Bad Magic, Lindsey Cummins, Reverend Dr. Joe, Horsecock Johnson, Paisley. Bitlixer, Logan and Kate, a spicy club run in BadmagicMarch.com and socials. Thanks to the ScripKeeper's Act Flettering for doing some great cryptid research. It's a great anthropology research.

Thanks to all those involved in keeping the cult of the Curious Private Facebook group moderated. The countess of the cult Liz Hernandez, her all-seeing eyes, Liz also seen the Bojangles emails. If you want more interaction outside of the Facebook group, you can check out our Discord channel as well. TimeSug Discord channel most easily accessed via the TimeSug app, available on Apple and Google Play stores.

And also, by the way, I know for some of you, there was a problem with some episodes on Spotify, maybe some other player that I think I, some Google players, and on our app, it was our host provider. There was an RSS situation, they did address it within, like, I think 24 hours and then the good guys at Bitlixer

adjust it our app with an update to address the RSS feed change. So that should all be fixed. Next week on TimeSuck, we add to our growing collection of depraved human hunters by heading across the Atlantic to investigate the life and fucked up meals. One of Europe's most grotesque serial killers ever to investigate the life and fucked up meals. One of Europe's most grotesque serial killers ever, Yochum Kroll, but never heard of this dude prior to a few days ago. Unbelievable, this malevolent freak, unholy nature, not better known, striking similarities

between Kroll and other time sucks, shit stain, all stars. Like Andre Chicatilo, Edgine, Otis Toul, Albert Fish, are all there. Kroll raped and murdered at least 14 most of the young women and children over the course of a 20-year murder spree. His debauchery didn't stop when he killed his victims. It really just got going.

Beginning in 1955, this sexual cycle unleashed his unnatural fetishes on the city of Dusburg, a city of roughly half a million people. They're the board of Germany and the Netherlands. Uncle, man, his name. Uncle Yochum, as he was known to the children in his neighborhood, was a hard dirt bag to hunt down. German authorities thought they were tracking a criminal mastermind, but in reality, they're on the erratic trail of a cannibalistic maniac, far from the sharpest knife in the drawer.

So yes, more cannibalism next week. It's going to be another dark, gory dive into the depths of human depravity. Make sure to join us next week to find out just how far some people are willing to go to save a few bucks to grocery store. And that is next week on Time Sucker. Now let's see what messages you've been sending in recently on today's Time Sucker and Fire Extinguisher. Doc.

Doc writes, Dear Master Sucker and all that jazz. I love it. I'm a Wildland fighter in the Pacific Northwest, and my crew loves listening to Time Suck in the Truck and the Shop to help get through the Mind Numbing Down Time, which is part of our job. I've been meaning to write you about an awkward moment with the Facilities Inspector from Headquarters which happened last summer. Myself and four other crew members, including one of our captains, were in the shop cleaning

some chainsaws, listened to the Albert Fish episode, were pretty much degenerates, so it's one of our favorites. I have spent in the morning showing the inspector around our shop and offices and fixing some minor building code issues he found. You were starting to recount fishes of fair with Thomas Keddon and we were all giggling like the goofballs we are with our blue toads. Blue toath speaker turned up entirely too loud, given the subject matter. The back door of the shop opened as you went on impersonating fish.

None of us paid much mind. We're usually left to ourselves out there. Turns out the facilities inspector had another question for us and it still cracks me up to remember his jaw hitting the floor. As you said, in Albert Fish's voice, then I made him lay on his back and bed. I turned both of his legs backward and strapped his feet to the head of the iron bed.

I had his nice pretty fat ass turned out to me to do whatever I could think of. And that was plenty. The inspector stood there dumbfounded and I was too busy fighting off laughter to pause the suck for another second. So he definitely also caused the sense, I'll stuck a needle in his dickie.

At this point, the guy gathered himself enough to meekly ask, can you guys show me around the paint shed? And the most grown-up of us managed to act like nothing had happened and led the guy out of the shop. As soon as the door closed, we totally lost it. Our crew caps and it turned around to hide his belly laughs and spent the entire encounter heaving with his back to the inspector. I guess that's how they do it in Hollywood. Show this. Anyway, I thought you would appreciate another story of the suck blasting out at the right time for comedy and the wrong time for normal social interaction. Keep doing what you're doing. We seriously appreciate all your hard work and all the laughter and conversations we get out of the suck. On the off chance you read this on the show, please give a shout out to my awesome boss,

Peter Bird, Birdman might literally fill the truck with some peanut butter if you did. Raise a beat of Bojangles, Doc. Well, thank you, Doc. And get ready to lap up, Birdman's Piphon Hot Peanut Bottle straight off the spigot. So glad you had a good lap out of all that. Albert Fish, Albert Fish has a lot to take in with context.

Out of context. Oh boy. I bet that inspector still wonders from time to time. What the fuck you guys were listening to? I bet he can't understand why any just degenerate would ever laugh, listening to that kind of filth. Hope he can keep you guys laughing

throughout a pretty tense year so far. Appreciate it. Second message comes in from Top Shelf Time, sucker. Fellow Idahoan, Andrea Levitt, who shares a tale of her father's wartime here. It was them. Thank you for the pronunciation, Andrea. I know some people do Andrea. And I know that drives Andrea's crazy. These kind of stories never cease to maze and inspire me. Andrea writes, all hail on Holy King Master sucker from your fellow Idaho potatoes.

My boyfriend and I listened to both the podcast almost religiously, so thank you so much for all your time and effort and fucking awesomeness. Aw, it's so very nice. That's very nice. So you put into the suck and the fear and the spooks, you and Lindsey put into scared of death. Y'all get me through many a shitty day at work.

I'm glad we can help. I just listened to the Vietnam War suck, decided to send in my Padaeads, personal Vietnam story. I love that nickname for your dad, Pada, fair warning us long, but very worth the read. My pod dad went into the Navy at 17 per my grandparents permission and demand as my grandfather was in the Air Force at the time. One of the most memorable stories I can remember him telling me is him laying on the front of a Navy ship, smoking a joint, listening to the radio while LBJ was making a statement saying they were pulling out of the war

and the boys were all coming home. Well, my dad had bomber jets flying over the top of him heading out to Vietnam. My dad has some amazing stories. I'm going to tell you about the one that sent him home to grow some story. This isn't my dad's words. I've edited it. I have edited it for clarity. I was a 50 caliber machine gunner on the front of the Navy River patrol ships.

When you got lost in the jungle, they would tell you to go to the river and wait for the Navy to come by so you could get a ride back to the safety of camp. This day in particular, there was a young marine, probably about 18 who flagged down the patrol. There were four men on the boat, Captain First made me and this marine. We decided to talk about 500 yard doffshore before we were going back down the river to check for more men. When we dropped anchor, we looked to shore and see this scrawny Vietnamese man standing there staring at us. He goes behind the bush and pulls out an RPG, a literal rocket launcher. At this point, we're laughing at him. At the time, those had a range of 250 yards, so we weren't worried about being harmed. This man put the

rocket launcher on his shoulder, aimed and fired, we were still laughing. Somehow, it skipped on the water and got up over the ship and blew up. The captain was decapitated and the first mate was killed by Shrapnel. I was hitting the abdomen and my intestines were now on the ground. The marine was fine. I heard the roar of a small boat engine and I told him to hide while I played dead best I could. Two Vietnamese men boarded our boat with bayonet rifles and stabbed the captain's head. Jesus, flung it off the ship while I was laying with my intestines, trying not to show them I was alive, laying on my intestines. Oh, trying not to show them I was alive.

They stabbed me in the first mate to make sure we were dead. I didn't have much to stab since my guts were on the ground under me. As the men turned around to talk, I pulled my daddy's pistol out of my shoulder holster and killed them both, emptying all rounds just to make sure I started to black out as the marine kid ran to me. Next thing I remember is being full, full blown slap by someone screaming, boy, if you go to sleep, you're going to die. As I was hanging out of a helicopter with my intestines at a metal bowl, my god. I've been overdosed on morphine at this point.

They would put a pin on your lapel for every dose they gave you and they missed a couple pins. I now have a three inch wide zipper scarf for my pelvis to my collarbone. Whew. And I'm missing three and a half feet of intestine. I tore them up pretty bad when I tried to stand up after I was first hit with a shrapnel.

Shock does crazy things to you. Wow. Hope you read this and enjoy the firsthand insight from a strong, stubborn, wonderful man. My pod dad is still alive and well, and not so much kicking as he has a lot of health issues, but he is still around to tell me interesting stories of his world travels and the amazing things he's seen and experienced all hail Nimrod and praise both jangles, your loyal sucker, Andrea, and then the pronunciation guide because no one can ever say it right. Well, thank you, Andrea, so much for sharing your dad's story,

your pod dad's story. Man, tough, dude. What a crazy day for him to live through. Please thank you for a service and a sacrifice, holy shit. Never had a life experience that intense, and at this point, I hope I never do. Whew, I'm good just hearing these stories now. It's inspiring.

You know, when I have tough moments in life that I think are tough. I think the story's like this, and then I'm just like shut the fuck up to myself and like stop it. Come on, keep going. Next up, SuperSack Dylan Briggs has a seriously rough go thing, slightly. He had a rough year.

Many of you have been helping him keep his head up. He writes, I think a rough copy here is actually. Yeah, dear Master of the Suck, Dan, my name is Dylan, I'm 23 years old, 23 years old, I'm from Moore'sville, North Carolina. I've been a fan of Time Suck for roughly two years now. I started listening when I heard you on one of my other favorite podcasts, Heartland Radio. Your Dark Sense, that's a great podcast, by the way, those guys are awesome.

Your Dark Sense, you humor and craziness had me hooked, so I decided to give Time Suck a chance, and boy, I do not regret it. That point on, time suck became a number one podcast. I would hit play as soon as the new episode came out. I'd get up and listen to the suck, working awesome job. Life was great. But then shit hit the fan hard.

I'll start it back on August 30th, 2019. I'll celebrate my long term girlfriend's 21st birthday. Our car got hit by a drugged out motorcycle that was going 122 miles per hour. The impact instantly killed our three friends in the backseat. Oh shit. One of which was my best friend from college who was serving in the army. Just got back from deployment. Going to all three of their funerals was very hard to handle for my girlfriend and me. I remember on the ride back down from my friends burial and Arlington National Cemetery. I put on the suck about Doc holiday, used it to help escape the real world for a few minutes. Few months

later, I lost out on a job due to the COVID-19 pandemic. This job would have propelled me into my dream job of being a North Carolina State Park Ranger. And man, I'm so sorry for your friends there. That's terrible. Job I've been working to get since I was 12, 12 years old. I was told by the state that there was no longer a need for environmental educators in the state parks for this no longer a need for environmental educators in the state parks for this summer. And that educating the park visitors was not a top priority. I was devastated by time suck and the culture of the curious.

Help me get through and kept me motivated to work harder for my passion. Just when I thought life couldn't get much worse, it threw me another curveball this past Wednesday. I self my dad put a roof on his house and the latter I was on slipped out from the side of the house, making me fall. It knocked out for my front teeth front teeth broke one fractured part of my skull near my mouth. I included pictures for your viewing pleasure I saw him. I don't have any form of dental insurance But thankfully my loving girlfriend started to go fund me to help me to help take some of the financial burden away Some time suckers have already donated it really shows how much this community cares for one another

I'm having to eat soft foods and I talk with a fairly noticeable list that I keep apologizing to people for. It has to be pretty depressed to be honest, but whenever I start feeling down, I pop the headphones on, listen to the latest suck, giving me that escape from the real world. Throughout all this happening over the past year, time sucked, the Colton Curious Facebook group, my girlfriend, Jasmine, have kept me from slipping into a very dark place, and I know what helped me from With the tough years to come. Sorry for the kind of long email Just wanted to share my story let you and the other time suckers know how much this community really means to people and how little things like talking about Serial colors and straight up wacky those can change the mindset of someone that is down in the dumps

Thanks for all that you do keep on sucking. Dylan bricks. Wow, man who Thank you. I did look at those pictures, and man, I love, I was so impressed that despite missing a lot of teeth, you're smiling. You're a tough son of a bitch, Dylan, man, you have been through, wow, one hell of a ringer of a year. Thanks for reminding us here, why it's important

to make these shows the best we can every week, not half-ass it. If you'd like to help Dylan, anyone listen, you can find his GoFundMe campaign by just googling Dylan's teeth, GoFundMe pops right up. I, of course, hope that you get a man'sly better for you going forward. I hope that that dream job gets put back on the table just like things have quickly been changed for the worse, you know, for you recently.

Thanks can also change for the better, just as quick. And we've covered a lot of history here on Time Suck and over and over again, every time there are periods of struggle, you know, there are eventually, almost inevitably, you know, times of prosperity. So hope that time has come back for you soon and finally to quote some doc holiday from Tombstone since like that, there's no normal laugh, why it's just laugh, get on with it.

I hope things get a lot better for you, man. He'll name right now. Bit of a stat disagreement from discerning sucker, landed in force, foresight, landing rights. You recently reiterated a common misconception that there is statistical evidence for systemic racism and law enforcement because the ratio of blacks killed by police is higher than the ratio of other races.

However, police violence is a function of the frequency of encounters with violent offenders. In 2018, slightly over 50 percent of homicides and robberies were committed by African Americans. The theory is that this statistic has more to do with unevenly distributed, distributed socioeconomic classes that resulted from America's history of slavery rather than current racial views. Obviously, the murder of George Floyd was heinous, but that event does not represent a systemic issue with your loyal spaces at London. Well, interesting correction at London,

yeah, it's some good stuff there. It could represent a systemic issue, it doesn't necessarily not. I do love that you hit the nail on the head when you say, quote, unevenly distributed socioeconomic classes that resulted from America's history of slavery. This is an important note why I wanted to include this. To just focus on possible racism within America's police force does not solve current racial

problems in society. Racism and historic socioeconomic inequality has to be addressed at a variety of different levels, if the plane field is ever going to be equalized. We need to look at a lot more than just law enforcement. We need to look at our education and social programs, subsidize daycare, cost of higher education, quality of public education, affordable health care, you know, for all working class Americans of all colors, you know, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. Do I think there's a racism, you know, within law enforcement? Yeah, but maybe no more than there isn't, it's in society

at large. That's the narrative that seems to be a little bit lost right now. I truly hope all the public discourse about all this helps save Black lives, helps save blue lives. I hope more communities can feel better protected by law enforcement and not afraid of law enforcement. And I hope that more Black Americans can be viewed as fellow equal citizens first and not as criminals or potential criminals. Thank you, landed. Okay, two more little quick ones.

A sweet shout out request from carrying meat sack Jen Featheringham, Jen writes, hey, Dan, my husband Andrew is a space lizard, huge fan of your podcast and stand up. His 30th birthday is June 18th. I know it would make him one super happy meat sack. If you could give him a birthday shout out during one of your time stock recordings this month,

it's been a long past few months with our spring wedding reception, being canceled, your standup show in Boston being canceled, history as birthday celebrations being canceled due to COVID-19. A shout out from one of his favorite comedians will be the, who will surprise ever for him at a time like this. Thanks for the laughs and learning you bring us each week. Can't wait to see the new standup once COVID allows.

Thank you, Jen. Happy birthday, Andrew. Holy shit. What a year, huh? Sorry to hear about your wedding. Happy birthday, Andrew. Holy shit. What a year, huh? Sorry to hear about your wedding. I hope you too, at least have been getting in a lot of engagement, fuck it. You know what I mean?

During your time at home. Hey, Lys Fita, come on. Seriously though, look forward to seeing you two down the road and again, happy birthday. And now one more quick silly one from silly goose sucker, Rich Gardell, this just cracked me up. Rich writes, you son of a bitch, you got me. I take two weeks away from time suck to catch up on scared of death,

and less than 12 minutes into Gingas Khan, I'm Google and Honeybushes. Got your rich, I love it. I love how I'm thinking about you being like Honeybushes. How the hell have I never heard of Honeybushes? I didn't know Honey could grow on, oh son of a bitch. Thank you for the laugh, Rich, and thank you for the messages everyone. Hail Nimrod.

Thanks, time suckers. I need a net. We all did. Have a great week, everybody. Don't eat anyone. Also be careful on the woods North America, because apparently it is a chock full of monsters. But mostly focus on not

eating anyone and of course keep on sucking Hey man actually I got to run all I can think about this episode is getting home and I eat my kids Actually, I got to run. All I can think about this episode is getting home and eat my kids. Fair enough.