Loðsilungur

Variations: Lodsilungur, Lod-silungur, Shaggy Trout; Loðufsi (Shaggy Pollock)

The Loðsilungur, or “Shaggy Trout”, is one of the most toxic fishes to inhabit Iceland. The earliest accounts date from the mid-17th century, where it is obliquely referred to as the “poisonous menace”. Illness and death follow the consumption of a loðsilungur.

The appearance of the Icelandic shaggy trout varies, but a trout-like shape and the presence of hair are diagnostic. Loðsilungurs tend to be ugly and strange. The one described in Nordri in 1855 had a beard of reddish hair on its lower jaw and neck as well as hairy patches on its sides and hairy fins. Another account distinguishes between trout with shaggy hair near the front of their head, and trout with hairy manes on either side. The adipose fin is either reduced or absent, and scales may not be present. The most detailed description specifies that it is no bigger than an Arctic char, and is often the size of a man’s finger. The tail is narrower and the front thicker than in other trout. The small, deep-set eyes are set ahead of a bulbous skull. The short snout has a distinctive overbite. The teeth are pitch black. Finally, the loðsilungur is covered with fine, downy, cottony-white hair. This hair, the namesake of the trout, resembles mold and is visible only when the fish is dead and in the water; on dry land it lies flat against the scales and becomes invisible. This makes it easier to confuse with edible trout – and makes it that much more deadly.

Across Iceland the tale is told of a tragic group poisoning. In 1692 the inhabitants of the farm called Gröf were found dead around a table with a cooked loðsilungur. Two brothers in a hunting lodge near Gunnarssonavatn Lake died with plates of trout on their knees. The most notorious poisoning incident is that of the Kaldrani farm, where an entire household were killed by a meal of loðsilungur. Only one young pauper girl had no appetite at the time, and avoided a terrible death.

Dogs and birds of prey, normally indiscriminate in their eating habits, will refuse to eat a loðsilungur. The shaggy trout are also tenacious and will cling stubbornly to life as long as possible. A group of fishermen in Hoffellsvatn Lake found that out the hard way; they left a catch of fish out overnight, only to find a live loðsilungur squirming on top of the pile. The entire catch was discarded and the lake abandoned.

References

Davidsson, O. (1900) The Folk-lore of Icelandic Fishes. The Scottish Review, October, pp. 312-332.

Hlidberg, J. B. and Aegisson, S.; McQueen, F. J. M. and Kjartansson, R., trans. (2011) Meeting with Monsters. JPV utgafa, Reykjavik.

Jarjacha

The Jarjacha is a nocturnal Peruvian beast, quadrupedal, with a long neck and glowing eyes. It lives on a diet of human flesh, but has very specific preferences: it feeds solely on incestuous men and women, or those who have committed carnal sins towards their spiritual compadres. It itself may be born from the soul of an incestuous person or taboo-breaker.

A jarjacha manifests primarily in its call, a loud rattling cry that echoes through the hills. “Jar-jar-jar-jar-jar”… It repeats, over and over. The villagers shiver, cross themselves, and lock their doors.

By morning the atmosphere is tense. Everyone knows there is a sinner among them, some incestuous wretch who has brought judgment down on themselves. The parish priest decries the existence of the son of Satan in their midst, one who will be punished by divine retribution. Eventually the shamed culprit is brought to light, and given an auto-da-fé in the public square.

Jarjacha is the worst insult that can be leveled at someone.

References

Bustamante, M. E. (1943) Apuntes para el folklore Peruano. La Miniatura, Ayacucho.

Not Appearing in ABC: The Ol-maima

While searching for information on the dingonek, I found that it’s been synonymized with a whole bunch of other creatures. These include, for instance, the Lukwata (a far more “legitimate” creature), the Ndamathia, and the Olmaima or Ol-umaina. That last one piqued my curiosity, and further research into it serves as a cautionary tale – one that cryptozoologists would do well to heed.

The original reference is Hobley (1913):

At the time this story appeared it was considered that this [Bronson’s account] was probably a traveller’s tale, told to entertain a newcomer, but I have since met a man who a few years back wandering about the Mara River or Ngare Dubash which rises in Sotik, crosses the Anglo-German boundary and runs into Lake Victoria in German territory. He emphatically asserts that he saw the beast [i.e. the Dingonek]. He was at the time where the Mara River crosses the frontier, and the river was in high flood. The beast came floating down the river on a big log, and he estimated its length at about sixteen feet, but could not certain of its length as its tail was in the water. He describes it as spotted like a leopard, covered with scales, and having a head like an otter; he did not see the long fangs described by Mr. Jordan. He fired at it and hit it; it slid off the log into the water and was not seen again.

I made inquiries of the District Commissioner, Kisii, Mr. Crampton, and he wrote recently and said he had visited the Amala River and made inquiries from the Masai in the neighbourhood, and they knew of the beast, which they called Ol-umaina, and described it as follows: About fifteen feet long, head like a dog, small ears marked somewhat after the fashion of a puff adder, has claws, short legs, short neck, is said to lie in the sun on the sand by the river-side and to slip into the water when disturbed; when in the water only its head is visible. This story does not radically disagree with the others…

There are a few conclusions to draw here. First, the author believes the dingonek, the unnamed Mara River creature, and the ol-umaina to be one and the same. Second, the features shared by all three are notable size, scales, spots like a leopard, and possibly a long tail.

Heuvelmans (1958) quotes Hobley (1913) (in fact, almost exactly the previous quote) and concurs that the “description agrees fairly well with the dingonek”. However, he has a comment on the ol-umaina’s description:

The puff-adder has no external ears. Perhaps Hobley means the small horns on the horned viper, but the text is by no means clear.

The ears thing confused me as well, but the most logical conclusions I can come up with is that a) like the puff adder, it has markings by its ears, or b) like the puff adder, it has no visible ears, or c) both of the above.

Finally Karl Shuker, in his In Search of Prehistoric Survivors (1995), straight-up refers to the Mara River creature as a dingonek, and makes a correction to the ol-umaina’s name: it is now the ol-maima.

So what are we to make of all this? Turns out there is a creature that answers to the descriptions given. A normal, unremarkable creature, but not as big as it is claimed to be.

Image from Wikipedia.

That’s right, it’s the humble Nile monitor lizard (Varanus niloticus). Note the scales, the “leopard” spots, the tail, an otter- or dog-like head without long fangs, sharp claws, short neck and legs, and a long tail. It basks in the sun and dives into the water when threatened.

Of course, Nile monitors don’t grow 15 feet long, but this can be chalked up to exaggeration and/or honest overestimation.

The final nail in the coffin is the name ol-maima or ol-umaina. Looking up a reputable Maa dictionary, we discover that ɔl-máɨ́má is the Maa word for a) a cripple and b) a Nile monitor lizard.

There is no need to invoke aquatic walruses, relict dinosaurs, or crocodiles with missing jaws. If the dingonek and the ol-maima are the same animal, then they are no more than fanciful descriptions of Nile monitors. The Dingonek gets a full entry because its description is so unusual, but the ol-maima, literally “Nile monitor lizard” in Maa, will not be so lucky.

Quvdlugiarsuaq

Variations: Auseq

Tales from Greenland, notably Aasiaat, tell of a gigantic maggot called Quvdlugiarsuaq. It is so big that the legend of Aqigsiaq tells of a dwelling place that survived an entire winter on the blubber of one quvdlugiarsuaq.

The Auseq is a similar creature described as a giant caterpillar. It is dangerous to humans.

References

Birket-Smith, K. (1924) Ethnography of the Egedesminde District. Bianco Lunos Bogtrykkeri, Copenhagen.

Erumía

Erumía is a gigantic jellyfish associated with the Papuan village of Mawata. She lives on the reef Tére-múba-mádja offshore of the Gésovamúba point. The édeéde, or normal jellyfish, are her children, and they are abundant on that reef. She is also the patron of all the fish. Her long, slimy, stringy tentacles can sting a man to death, and any swimmer who sees them stretching in their direction knows to flee for their lives. The tentacles can be seen floating around the mouth of the Bina River.

As the patron ororárora or spirit of Mawata, Erumía is associated with the people of the village, the “Erumía people”. She appears in dreams as a good omen and grants “lucky things” for fishing.

References

Landtman, G. (1917) The Folk-tales of the Kiwai Papuans. Acta Societatis Scientiarium Fennicae, t. XLVII, Helsingfors.

Landtman, G. (1927) The Kiwai Papuans of British New Guinea. MacMillan and Co. Limited, London.

Circhos

Variations: Cricos, Crichos

The story of the Circhos is one fraught with misunderstandings, mistranslations, and general confusion. It should serve as a morality tale on the importance of accurate information transmission.

Aristotle describes the habits of hermit crabs in detail. The carcinium (“small crab”) is soft-bodied after the thorax, resembling a spider, with two red horns and forward-pointing eyes. The mouth has hair-like appendages and two divided feet that it uses to catch prey. There are two additional smaller pairs of feet beside them.

Of the hermit crabs, the kind that lives in the nerita or brita shell is unusual because its right divided foot is small while the left one is large. It walks more on the left foot than the right. The nerita itself, Aristotle adds, has a large, smooth, rounded shell, and a red hepatopancreas, as opposed to the ceryx and its black hepatopancreas. During a storm the crabs hide under a rock, and the gastropods attach themselves to the rock and close their opercula.

All of the preceding information is stated consecutively. Michael Scot’s translation of Aristotle gives the name of kiroket to the nerita shell. Thomas de Cantimpré takes Scot’s kiroket and his descriptions of the hermit crab and gastropod, but omits connecting names and details to combine them into a single confused account. It is likely that Scot’s jargon and neologisms threw Thomas off.

Thomas de Cantimpré’s cricos (corrupted from kiroket) now has two fissures at the end of its feet, giving it three fingers and three nails on each foot (Thomas’ “common-sense” addition). Its left foot is big and its right foot is small, and it carries its weight on its left foot. The comparison of hepatopancreas colors becomes the shell of the cricos, colored black and red. In good weather, the cricos moves around; in bad weather, it attaches itself to rocks and doesn’t move.

Albertus Magnus takes up Thomas’ account, but drops the confusing details of the feet. The Ortus Sanitatis, on the other hand, creates some additional features out of whole cloth. The circhos or crichos has the head of a man and the body of a sea-dog (i.e. a dogfish or shark); it is healthy in good weather, but weakens and turns ill in bad weather.

Olaus Magnus borrows the circhos of the Ortus Sanitatis to populate his Scandinavian sea. The physical description of a human-headed fish is wisely redacted. Whether it was meant to represent an actual Scandinavian animal, or is merely plagiarism, remains unclear.

It is Olaus Magnus’ account that is best known today. Concept drift in modern retellings have led to fabrications such as a limping gait that forces the circhos to move only in fine weather and cling to rocks during storms, and even a “humanoid” appearance.

References

Aristotle, Cresswell, R. trans. (1862) Aristotle’s History of Animals. Henry G. Bohn, London.

Barber, R. and Riches, A. (1971) A Dictionary of Fabulous Beasts. The Boydell Press, Ipswich.

de Cantimpré, T. (1280) Liber de natura rerum. Bibliothèque municipale de Valenciennes.

Cuba, J. (1539) Le iardin de santé. Philippe le Noir, Paris.

Gauvin, B.; Jacquemard, C.; and Lucas-Avenel, M. (2013) L’auctoritas de Thomas de Cantimpré en matière ichtyologique (Vincent de Beauvais, Albert le Grand, l’Hortus sanitatis). Kentron, 29, pp. 69-108.

Magnus, A. (1920) De Animalibus Libri XXVI. Aschendorffschen Verlagbuchhandlung, Münster.

Magnus, O. (1555) Historia de gentibus septentrionalibus. Giovanni M. Viotto, Rome.

Magnus, O. (1561) Histoire des pays septentrionaus. Christophle Plantin, Antwerp.

Magnus, O. (1658) A compendious history of the Goths, Swedes, and Vandals, and other Northern nations. J. Streater, London.

Rose, C. (2000) Giants, Monsters, and Dragons. W. W. Norton and Co., New York. Unknown. (1538) Ortus Sanitatis. Joannes de Cereto de Tridino.