Bès Bulong, the spirit Bulong or simply Bulong, is a bès or spirit from the folklore of the Jah Hut people of Malaysia. It walks around by night. If it sees anyone walking about between midnight and 6:00 AM, it will pull out that person’s soul and leave them unconscious.
Werner, R. (1975) Jah-hět of Malaysia, Art and Culture. Penerbit Universiti Malaya, Kuala Lumpur.
Every hundred years, a kite in the Spanish mountains lays a red egg in a gorse bush. From that egg hatches a black and white bird, larger than a chicken, which lives exactly fifty years. When that bird dies, a green worm emerges from its rotting flesh. That worm gradually metamorphoses into a Gallo de la Muerte – a Rooster of Death.
A gallo de la muerte has black plumage and a white comb with blue and reddish spots. Anyone who hears its whining, screaming quiquiriquí is doomed to die the next day.
The only remedy for this death sentence is a particular herb that grows among the mountain apple trees from the start of spring till the month of May. This herb is blue and has black roots. The remedy involves boiling this herb in rosemary water and praying over the concoction before it is imbibed.
Candón, M. and Bonnet, E. (1993) A buen entendedor…Anaya & Mario Muchnik, Madrid.
Llano, M. (1998) Obras Completas, t. I. Alianza Editorial, Madrid.
The word Nuppeppō is
derived from nupperi or nopperi, meaning “flat-faced” and
referring to a flat, dazed expression. This yokai first appears in texts from
the Edo period, and resembles nothing more than a blob of flesh with arms and
legs. Its folds of skin and fat give it the appearance of a face on its body.
While repulsive, nuppeppōs are frequently comical and
Sekien’s rendition of the nuppeppō has a culinary theme, placing it under a bronze bell that calls monks to their meals. The nuppeppō itself may be edible; according to Maki Bokusen, a nuppeppō-like creature appeared in the gardens of Shogun Tokugawa Ieyasu. This nikubito (“meat-man”) was taken away to the mountains away from the shogun’s sight. Alas, he discovered too late that it may have been the legendary Hō described in the book of the Hakutaku. One bite of the Hō’s flesh would reinvigorate a person’s constitution.
Shigeru Mizuki added further embellishments to the nuppeppō based on Sekien’s image. His “nuppefuhofu” is a “spirit of flesh” found in deserted temples. Monks that choose to sleep in those temple are unpleasantly awakened by the fleshy sound of its aimless staggering.
The Nopperabō is a later yokai probably derived from
It is human in appearance except for its face – completely featureless and
smooth as an egg. Unlike its older counterpart, the nopperabō is only ever a thing of terror.
Foster, M. D. (2015) The Book of Yokai. University of California Press,
Sekien, T.; Alt, M. and Yoda, H. eds. (2017) Japandemonium Illustrated: The Yokai Encyclopedias of Toriyama Sekien. Dover Publications, New York.
boomer, is the source of mysterious booming sounds heard in the Canadian
mountains. His place of residence is unknown. Our knowledge of this creature
was related by the Iglulik Inuit mystic Anarqâq. Igtuk was not specified to be
one of Anarqâq’s helping spirits, and he is probably hostile to humans.
resembles no other living thing. His arms and legs are on the back of his body,
while his single large eye is level with his arms, and his ears are in line
with his eye. His nose is inside his cavernous mouth, and there is a tuft of
thick hair on his chin. The booming for which he is known is produced when
Igtuk moves his jaws.
Rasmussen, K. (1929) Intellectual Culture of the Iglulik Eskimos. Glydendalske Boghandel, Nordisk Forlag, Copenhagen.
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.
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
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
Jarjacha is the
worst insult that can be leveled at someone.
Bustamante, M. E. (1943)
Apuntes para el folklore Peruano. La
name is attributed to his call of “Roes, roes, roes!” Etymologically it may be
derived from the Scandinavian ruske,
“to rush at”; the Anglo-Saxon breosan,
“terrify”, or the Dutch roezen,
“making a din”. It may also simply be another variant of Osschaard, derived
from ors, “horse” or “mount”, and hard, “strong”. Sometimes the name is used
to simply mean the devil.
almanac of Blankenberge tells of the dreadful storm of 1791. It destroyed the hut
of a suspected witch on the beach, and the inhabitants were overjoyed, smashing
what little was left of the ruins. Then a spinechilling sound rang out over the
dunes – “Roes, roes, roes!” A huge black dog with bells around its neck came
running down the dunes, and the villagers scattered. That dog was Roeschaard.
puts his shapeshifting powers to use in performing cruel pranks. There is no
limit to the forms he can take. He turns into a fish and allows himself to be
caught before destroying the net. He gets into boats and tips them over. He
pounces on people’s backs and rides them to exhaustion. In the form of a baby, he
allows people to take him home before laughing wickedly and escaping, calling
out “Roes, roes, roes!” behind him.
of Blankenberge eventually found a way to escape Roeschaard’s attentions. By
giving themselves a second baptism and a new name, they would break
Roeschaard’s power over them. The ceremony undertaken by new sailors involved
being splashed with salt water while the following formula was intoned:
I baptize you,
and may Roeschaard, the thrice-ugly one, turn away. Turn, turn, turn, your name
is [here the requisite sea-name was given]
Roeschaard came to claim someone, they could simply tell him they were not the
person he was looking for. Since then Roeschaard’s power has been in decline.
van Hageland, A. (1973) La Mer Magique. Marabout, Paris.
A. (2007) Flanders: a cultural history.
Oxford University Press, Oxford.
Found in maritime
Flanders, land of Waas, and especially Hamme, near Dendermonde, Osschaert is
one of several mischievous shapeshifters that plague Belgium. He was
particularly around the chapel of Twee Bruggen.
According to van Hageland, his name may be a combination of ors, an archaic word denoting a horse or more generally a mount, or os, an ox, with hard, meaning “strong” or “valiant”. In this sense, Osschaard or Osschaert is a headstrong and dangerous steed.
As with others of his kind, Osschaert appears in countless forms, most notably a human-headed bull with heavy chains on its legs and feet. He has also appeared as a dog, a rabbit, a horse, a giant, a dwarf… At Knoche-sur-mer, where he serves as a bogey to frighten children, he is a ghost with a bull’s head. Commonly he drags a long length of chain behind him.
mischievous rather than actively evil. He delights in jumping on the backs of
people and forcing them to carry him until they collapse. He is just as likely
to jump off his mount’s shoulders to dive into a woman’s basket, causing her to
stagger under the sudden load. Osschaert particularly enjoys tormenting sinners
and wicked people, and will target them above all others.
over all the water in the area, so the first fish caught is returned as an
appeasing gift to Osschaert. Not that he’s guaranteed to ensure a good catch.
And beware of catching fish without thanking Osschaert! One fisherman dragged
his catch onto the beach only to find himself pinned down for an hour by Osschaert;
when he was finally released his catch had disappeared. Another fisherman
pulled an incredibly heavy net onto his boat, only to find it full of horse
church of Twee Bruggen, daring Osschaert out loud to scratch you will result in
a mauling. Specifically, one only has to utter the formula Grypke, Grypke grauw, wilt gy my grypen, grypt my nou (“Grypke,
Grypke grey, if you will gripe me, gripe me now”) and Osschaert will appear on
your back and ride you to the nearest crossroads or image of the Virgin Mary.
In fact, in areas where people dared Osschaert to appear resulted in the spirit
becoming more cruel and aggressive due to being repeatedly called upon.
A young man
of Doel, crossing a field by night, found himself face to face with an
enormous, monstrous horse. “This is Osschaert”, he thought to himself. “I must
get out of his way”. He decided to pass through the churchyard, but then met a
dog the size of a horse on the main road. He crossed himself and took another
path to the churchyard, but there was Osschaert in the form of a rabbit,
jumping back and forth towards him. He tried to turn around the churchyard,
only to find Osschaert waiting for him in the shape of a donkey with enormous
fiery eyes the size of plates! That was the point when the man gave up, jumped
the wall, and ran home in a cold sweat.
man, a fisherman of Kieldrecht named Blommaert, thought he could outsmart
Osschaert. He usually placed his catch of fish in a water-tub near the window.
One night he found that some fish were missing; not only that, but there were
ashes on the hearth, as though someone had broiled the fish on the embers.
Blommaert could find no signs of break-in, and concluded Osschaert was behind
this mischief. When the same thing happened a second time, he decided to cure
Osschaert of his thieving behavior. He covered the entire hearth with
horse-dung, and scattered some ashes over it to disguise it. Osschaert showed
up as usual, pronouncing “Blommeken, vischkens braeyen”, but when he tried to
cook the fish it ended up spoiled with the dung. He ran away screaming and
cursing in frustration. Blommaert celebrated his cunning revenge – but alas, it
does not pay to outwit Osschaert. The next day, when Blommaert drew in his net,
he found it extraordinarily heavy. After much effort, he hauled it on deck, and
found it to be full to cracking with horse-dung. Osschaert laughed loud and
long, and Blommaert returned home angry and defeated.
is retired, if not dead. A priest at Hamme was said to have banished Osschaert
to wander at the sea-shore for ninety-nine years. And at Spije, Malines, one
can see Osschaert’s coffin. It is a small coffin-shaped bridge over a stream.
van Hageland, A. (1973) La Mer Magique. Marabout, Paris.
Harou, A. (1905) Mythologie et folk-lore de l’enfance. Revue des Traditions Populaires, v. XX, p. 96.
Thorpe, B. (1852) Northern Mythology, v. III. Edward Lumley, London.