I have also placed this post over at CH. This will be a long one, but I've spent a great deal of time researching all of this, and want to share in an attempt to perhaps create a larger conversation.
As part of my continued interest in learning more about the other realm, I have recently begun a quest to gain a better understanding of the little people known to have traditionally taken up residence in the area in which I currently reside (Minnesota). I began my search by reading into the stories (both new and old) told by the Anishinaabe/Ojibwa peoples in the northern parts of the state: Red Lake Reservation, Leech Lake, and the Boundary Waters. My research has crossed over into the stories told by the Passamaquoddy, located farther East on the continent. I have also searched through old posts on the public forums of the Boundary Waters canoe area, and have found that encounters have taken place in modern times; although one or the other race have tended to run in the other direction. All of the tales, taken from this array of different sources, seem to be similar in nature, telling of the following:
*Little people 2 1/2' to 3' in height, covered with hair. Some reports state that they have big lips and lack noses, or have noses that are quite flat on their faces.
*They have been known traditionally as 'The Stone Canoe People', or 'The People of the Stone Canoe', due to the fact that they have traditionally traversed the vast waterways of this area in canoes made of stone.
*Amongst the Indian tribes of these areas, there seem to be references to two different races of little people; or perhaps a variation of the same race. The Anishinaabe refer to them as the Memegwesiwuk, the Passamaquoddy as the Nagumwasuck and the Mekumwasuck.
*They seem to be somewhat ambivalent when it comes to the idea of humans. They have shown to be helpful and kind towards humans, perhaps similar to the Brownies, though they have also shown to perhaps steal people away or cause illness when people stop to stare at them.
The post that got me started along this line of research comes from the BWCA (Boundary Waters Canoe Area) Messageboard:
kclamken11/08/2005 07:44PM
Sorry I haven't been on here in forever but school is kicking my butt lately.
I was calling some friends to get started planning next summers trip and one of my friends said he would not be going and told me a very strange story about something that happened to him last summer when we were on Ensign Lake. It happened at about 2:30am on May 16th when he went to go use the john. I am going to refrain from posting more about this right now because i want too see if anyone has had anything similar happen without my input as to what took place. I am tending to believe his story as he is a veteran and I trust him. Anyway, I would really appreciate if anyone has any info about anything strange that has gone on in the area of Ensign or Ashigan.
Anyway, I know this is a strange request but I would really like any input on this subject.
Kevin
**here he leaves his email address, which I have taken away for the moment.
When pressed by others posting on the board as to the nature of the experience, he stated this:
11/09/2005 04:30PM
Ok, I know that this is gonna sound bizarre. My friend is convinced that there was a 2.5 to 3' tall "brown hairy man" watching him use the john. He said that the hairy man watched him until he was done, and when he moved towards it, it ran off into the woods.At first i was very skeptical, but the more I talk to him the more I am starting to wonder what happened. He is a veteran and an intelligent, lucid person, with alot of experience in the outdoors. I thought he possibly saw a coon, marten, or grouse, but he is adamant that the figure was humanoid. Also, I don't think he would have a problem with identifying the animals in that locale. The thing about this that is most convincing for me is the fact that he doesn't want to go back to the BWCA. He is usually the first person on board and the most helpful in planning. So if anyone has ever had a similar experience or heard any stories let me know. My curiosity about this is killing me.
Kevin
I intend to send Kevin an email (if the address is still valid, that is) explaining what I know. All of the responses on the board, save but one, were sarcastic in nature.
From the Forum of the BWCA came this post:
RaisedByBears99
04/05/2012 05:07AM
When I was young, the BWCA was a different place. As we paddled, we seldom saw other people. My mother's family had lived in the area for generations, and paddling with older family members was a treat.
Around the campfire there was always singing, plaintive ballads of battles and wars and the girl left behind, Indian princesses, and French chansons about fountains and birds. Then there were the stories.
I heard about the Seventh Megis, and the Great Turtle, which some people say is Washington Island. That is why there are so many burials there and a person should never tarry overnight.
By the time I was ten, I knew why Bear has a short tail, why Fox can't be trusted, why wolf is the friend of the Ojibwe, why Rabbit always runs, why Turtle is good and Owl is evil.
I learned about Nanabajou, the hero-trickster and shape shifter; to look to your packs and gear and to be wary of people walking in the woods wearing red shirts.
In winter, we heard stories of the Windigo, the Cannibal Ice Giant. Bloodchilling tales that can still raise the hair on the back of my neck.
At times we would watch the lightning, and grandfather would explain we were watching Animikii Binesi, the Thunderbird, attacking his foe, Mishiginibig, the Great Horned Serpent. When the waves were high and rolled over the gunwales, grandfather warned us not to put our hands over the side for fear of Mishupishu, the supernatural underwater lynx. When we paddled calm deep rivers with high banks, grandfather told us to paddle faster so we weren't caught by Stone Canoe People.
I used to think, "If they're are paddling underwater, and their canoes are made of stone - we shouldn't have to paddle too hard to keep clear of them."
In more recent years, the Stone Canoe People, Memegwesi or Memegwesiwuk, have been defined to me as "hairy bank dwelling dwarves," and their danger lies not in their menace, but in their charm - luring children away to live among them in their harmless and simple world.
I know that as a 21st century Christian, I probably shouldn't spend time thinking about these tales, but somehow, in the Boundary Waters, considering the people who plied these lakes and rivers long before me, the stories seem to have their place somehow. Even today, I will sometimes paddle around a river bend and think, "This would be a place for Memegwesi."
From the Winter 2003 edition of the Boundary Waters journal came:
*Saga Of Little Udd – Cary – p.31
fictional story: the “Little People,” gnomes
From pages 415-16 of the book 'Elder Gods of Antiquity' by M. Don Schorn comes this:
"According to author Daniel Cohen, the Penobscot Indians of Maine called such small beings the Wanagemeswak. The Eskimos called their friendly little people the Kingmingoarkulluk, while the Aztecs called their fearsome dwarfs the Tepicoton. The little people of the Ojibwa Indians of northern Minnesota were called the Memegwicio or Memegwesi. The Cree Indians knew them as Memegwecio. They were diminutive humanlike creatures described as being about the size of a 10 year old, fully covered with hair, with a very flat nose. The Ural Mountain Turanian people called their dark, round-headed dwarfs the Dwergar (sounds somewhat similar to the Nimerigar). Many accounts link those dwarf beings with a companion race of giants, (the neanderthals?), living side by side."
This by Paula Giese - an account from the Mille du Lac Ojibwe, who have traditionally knocked rice along all of these winding waterways:
MEMEGWESIWUK Like Rice, Too
Maude's step-mother told her an interesting story about meeting Memegwesiwug (Little People) once when ricing:
We always went to Boy River, we were always doing something there at Boy River. We were ricing there, and were sitting down towards evening. She (Maude's step-mother) was saying that they had seen Memegwesiwug.
They too knock rice there on Boy River. The river turns there," she said. "We were knocking rice along there," she said.
"Maybe there is someone over there," her old man was saying, so they stopped there and put down the knocking sticks. Sure enough, the sound of knocking was coming along toward them where they were sitting in the water, and then a canoe suddenly appeared. They just sat there watching those two knocking rice.
They wanted to see who it was, but when they blinked their eyes, they disappeared from view. "He said 'Memegewesiwug', " she said, "that's what he said; those Memegwesiwug have hair on their faces."
I wonder what kind of creatures they are.
These hairy-faced Little People live in river bank caves, they say. It's interesting to compare this recollection of Maude's with the research Pat Paul did on Little People at his Reserve, Tobique, New Brunswick. After I posted that story, I got quite a bit of email from Indian people who said "I thought nobody knew about those Little People except on our rez." They didn't tell me any stories, though. Anyway, it looks like Minnesota's Little People like wild rice, too! I wonder if the DNR ever arrested any of them?
This, from native-languages.org:
Legendary Native American Figures: Memegwesi (Mannegishi)
Name: Memegwesi
Tribal affiliation: Ojibway, Algonquin, Ottawa, Cree, Metis, Innu, Menominee
Alternate spellings: Memengwesi, Memegweshi, Memegwesì, Memekwesiw, Memegawansi, Omemengweshii, Maymaygwayshi, Memekwesi, Memekwesiw, Memekwisiw, Memegwecio, Memegwicio, Mannegeshi, Mannegishi, Memekueshu, Mimakwisi, Mamagwasi, Mamakwasew, Memegawensi, Maymaygwayshi, Memengweshii, Mee'megwee'ssi, Memogouissiouis, Mimikwisi, Mimikwisiw, Mîmîkwîsi, Memegwe'ju, Mee'megwee'ssio, Memegwe'djo, Memekwe'zu, Memegwedjo
Pronunciation: Varies by dialect: may-may-gway-see, may-mane-gway-see, or uh-may-mane-gway-shee
Also known as: Memegwesiwag is the plural form of their name, also spelled Memegwesiwak, Memengweswag, Mamagwasewug, Memekwesiwak, Maymaygwaysiwuk, Mimakwisiwuk, Mimikwisiwak, Mîmîkwîsiwak, Meymeykweysiwak, May-may-quay-she-wuk, May-may-quay-so-wuk, or Ma-ma-kwa-se-sak. Sometimes also known as Apa'iins, Pai'iins, or Pa'iins, which literally means "little people."
Type: Little people, river spirits
Related figures in other tribes: Wanagemeswak (Passamaquoddy), Wiklatmu'j (Micmac), Mikumwes (Wabanaki), Makiawisug (Mohegan)
Memegwesi are small riverbank-dwelling water spirits. They are generally benign creatures, but sometimes blow canoes astray or steal things when they are not shown proper respect. In some Ojibwe traditions, Memegwesi can only be seen by children and medicine people; in others, they can appear to anyone, and may help humans who give them tobacco and other gifts. Most often Memegwesi are described as being child-sized and hairy with a large head and a strange voice that sounds like the whine of a dragonfly. The Cree and Innu describe them as having narrow faces, and some Menominee storytellers have said that they have no noses. It is sometimes said that Memegwesi were originally created from the bark of trees. Memegwesi are said to carve symbols on rocks and sometimes carve small canoes for themselves out of stone. Some people believe that their name comes from the Ojibwe word for "hairy," memii, since Memegwesi are usually described as having hairy faces and bodies. Other people believe that their name is related to the word for butterfly, memengwaa.
This, from a BWCA Yahoo discussion group:
And this one from the Maliseet of the Tobique Reservation showing
the relation of these little people to the inner earth.
"Some elders of the Tobique recall their old swimming hole
muskumodesk where they used to swim, play and frolic. Muskumodesk is
a solid rock and ledge area of the reserve where a strange rock
design is located."
"Right in the middle of this rock-ledge formation is a 18"x18"
block section that is missing as if a person had taken a saw or some
kind of cutter to carve out and remove it, leaving a step-like or
seat-like formation remaining there that the swimmers used to play
around for years."
"Directly under the seat or step is a tunnel-like opening or an 18"
diameter opening that goes-god knows where, and is always very dark
and very spooky inside. No one, as I recall, ever explored the hole
for fear of the Obodumkin, a legendary water monster, or the
Geowludmosiseg."
"Some say that both, the step and the tunnel, are creations of the
Little People who are reputed to always be around water areas, such
as swimming holes, near lakes, rivers, brooks, etc. much like the
famous Leprechauns of Ireland."
"In 1953 through 1959, two hydro-electric dams were constructed in
the Tobique area and many places where the Native people often
frequented were flooded over, including the step and the tunnel
locations. No pictures exist, to my knowledge, showing this unique
area that used to mystify so many people. The step and tunnel also
have never been thoroughly researched nor has adequate explanation of
their origin, except for the Geowludmosiseg angle."
LJ
This, from a publishing company out of Portland, which appears to be a first-hand encounter at Red Lake Reservation, located in the Northwest corner of the state:
The Little Man
I live in northern Minnesota with my older cousin on the Redlake Native American Reservation.
Every day we would go on walks along different trails through the woods that we would come across. Each day we would go a little further then the last, just talking or practicing our singing voices. We no longer do this due to what we've experienced.
Ok so there was this one particular trail I liked taking because it lead to this very old building made of stones. We would go inside to check out what looked like (in my opinion) an old torture chamber or jail of some sort. As we left the stone building, the sun was starting to go down. We got halfway through the trail back home (keep in mind the trail is at least two and a half miles long) and my cousin got the brilliant idea of camping out at the building. I of course replied without hesitation "NO, you can!"
He then said "Fine, alright, stay here like a little *****". When we got to the house he grabbed his camping supplies and walked into the woods without saying a word. After a few hours passed it was 2:30am and I became scared of being alone in the house. When I would go to the bathroom I would walk slowly against the wall down the hall looking back every 5 seconds and then quickly go in and shut the door.
So I had no idea what was going through my head, but I walked through the trail at 3:00am, walking as fast as I could with a flashlight in my hand. I couldn't keep steady. And then I got, I'd say about 3 quarters down the trail, still walking fast and not looking back for anything. And then I heard some sticks crack on my left....
I was shocked and couldn't move. I turned off my flashlight because I thought it was a bear and kept as quiet as I could. And then I heard this odd flute music in a distance. I was so terrified. But there was this feeling I got that made me go toward it. I got closer and closer as the music got louder, but I then blacked out of shock. I woke up on the ground right next to a small shadowy man sitting on a stump facing away from me playing his flute...
I was so scared that I couldn't move and at the same time controlled by the beautiful harmony its flute of some sort was creating. I thought in my head "alright, three, two, one....". I then got up slowly trying no to make any sudden noises. As it hopped quickly on its feet and turned at me,
I saw it. It had long hair past its knees, no nose, big black lips that stretched across it's face, and black beady eyes that looked see through. It spoke something in tongues that sounded like it was talking backwards as it walked closer and closer.
I ran as fast as I could down the trail. I started seeing a fire so I ran even faster toward it and got to my cousin... of course he did not believe me. So we sat at the fire for a while, until we eventually went inside the building...
I fell asleep in a heartbeat due to all the running I did, until my cousin woke me up with fear in his face I've never seen before. He told me to stay quiet and we looked out a barred window of the building at a tree that was 6 feet away and there were 5 of the same little people I seen earlier.
He said "Watch this. They were doing this all night" as they danced around the tree with the same flute music. He threw a rock at a nearby tree and they all ran into a hole on the side of the tree. We looked at the hole afterwards and saw nothing but a dead end 5 inches into the tree. I asked an older women about this and she told me I should have appreciated his music. And now I hear the same flute music at 3:00am every day whether I'm asleep or not.
I'm not asking you to believe. Just warning you to be cautious in the woods of northern Minnesota.
In her book 'An Encyclopedia of Fairies', Katharine Briggs relates the following story (a bit long, but of interest, as the majority of the tales in her book are drawn from the tales of the Celtic Isles and Britain. This is one of the few tales drawn from the North American continent):
The Little People of the Passamaquoddy Indians:
"There are two kinds of Little People among the Passamaquoddy Indians, the Nagumwasuck and the Mekumwasuck. Both kinds are two and half to three feet in height, and both are grotesquely ugly (depending upon the set of eyes with which you are looking, I suppose, as beauty is in the eye of the beholder). For the following particulars we are indebted to Susan Stevens, an anthropologist married to the Chief of the Passamaquoddies (further research reveals that Sue Stevens passed on some years ago, and that she was involved in land rights disputes between the Passamaquoddy and the U.S. federal government).
The Passamaquoddy Indians, of whom there are about 1,200 living close to the Canadian border, used to migrate to the ocean in the summer and move inland in the winter. When they moved, their fairies moved with them. Now they live permanently in two reservations, each of which has Nagumwasuck attached to it. These fairies are closely involved in all that happens to their humans, and can be heard singing laments when there is a death in the tribe and rejoicing and dancing when there is a wedding. When a new church was built in the 1930's, they made a tiny stone church on the lake shore. People heard them hammering and singing at night, and in the morning discovered the church. They are very conscious of their ugliness, and do not like to be seen. It is almost fatal to laugh at them. Some little clay cylinders found on the shore at the ocean reservation are said to be the pipes of the Nagumwasuck, just as small clay pipes dug up in Ireland are said to belong to the fairies. One old lady told Susan Stevens that she and some other women had seen the Nagumwasuck leavening the reservation early one morning, going over the lake in a stone canoe. They said they might return one day when more people believed in them.
These Little People are seen only by the Indians. It is the same with the Mekumwasuck, who are also about two and half to three feet in height. They live in the woods and are fantastically individually dressed. Their faces are covered with hair, which strikes an alienate note to the Indians. According to the oral report, they were made of stone, but this is omitted in Susan Steven's written account. They are the guardians of the Catholic Church. The Passamaquoddy people were converted by the Jesuits at the very bigiing of the 17th century. The Mekumwasuck are much dread, for if they look directly at any Indian he dies or is attacked by a contagious disease; an interesting exampled of BLIGHTS AND ILLNESSES ATTRIBUTED TO THE FAIRIES. One woman seeing a Mekumwasuck managed to avoid his gaze, but her companions were overlooked, and all fell ill; some died.
Some time about 1970 the priest was on vacation and some drunk men broke into the church to steal the holy wine, but the Mekumwasuck were on guard and drove them out of the church. One man stuck in the window, and they belabored him until he broke loose. In 1971 or so a dance was held in Lent, at which Susan Stevens acted as chaperone. The priest had given permission, but the old people were uneasy about it. Suddenly a boy of sixteen who was taking part saw one of the Mekumwasuck. he was terrified and went to fetch his cousin to see if he could see it too. The cousin was very unwilling to look for fear he should draw a dangerous glance on him, but at length he looked and saw the spirit. The report went round, and the entire company of seventy-five people were out of the room in two minutes. It was much feared that a death would follow this visitation. Nothing happened, but there have been no dances in Lent since then.
It seems possible that these spirits are not native but are imported gargoyles. The function of gargoyles is to guard the church from the devil staring out in all directions. None of the glories of the Gothic church would be known to he converts, but homesick missionaries describing their native land might well give the impression to the Indians that the gargoyles were hideous spirits guarding the church. It is not the only time when carved figures have been taken for fairies. The Chessmen of Lewis are by now a well-known example."
Seeing as how I myself am interpreting this account in a literal sense, I am not certain that I agree with Brigg's healthy level of skepticism here. She herself did not seem to think the Little People to be real and true entities; yet throughout the course of her writings, I do sense that she is asking herself this question.
It is the line that I have underlined above in bold that caught my eye. Brigg's book was published in 1976, and the event in question took place in 1971. 40+ years have passed since that date, and I would imagine that if they were leaving the Passamaquoddy at that time, then perhaps they are no longer living above ground.
All of this is to say that I am struck with an interest in knowing them better, to possibly open up a line of communication between our cultures, whether that communication take place verbally or by some other means. If truly they still do reside along cliff banks in certain parts of the Boundary waters area, (which is perhaps the last truly wild place left in the state), then I wonder what might happen should they come face to face with a human who would not run the other way in absolute shock and awe. I have enough faith in myself and in my intentions; though I do realize that no matter how much I might prepare myself for such an encounter, the moment would most likely be unlike anything that I could possibly anticipate. But my intuition and my gut tell me that I would remain composed, despite the well-spring of emotion that may arise from telepathic communication, a heretofore unknown experience for me.
I have it in mind to visit the Boundary Waters area sometime before the close of this summer season. Whether or not that trip could become an opportunity to interact with our neighbors is a large part of the reason for this post. Could such an encounter be possible?
I have been warned, and I heed these warnings. Humanity has become such an astounding caricature of itself that it's no wonder that most of the little people (and the big people) want nothing to do with us anymore. I do not wish to be taken away from this point in time, to be whisked away to the other realm, without a chance of a return to this present moment in time, the 'here and now' for me. I do not wish to fall ill, and I do not wish to be a captive in their realm. I do not understand the rules of that other realm, though I am slowly learning. Perhaps they may be willing to teach and/or share, in return for that which they would deem a rapport-based gift from the human world, or something so simple as, "is there anything that I can do for you?" I have thoughts on this, though it will require a deeper search on my part. I might compare it to stepping into a new culture for the very 1st time, understanding the essence of THEIR moral code. Perhaps gifts would offend them greatly, as seemed to so often happen in the past, when humans would offer gifts of clothing to the brownies, who would then wail in sadness and frustration and leave the human homestead forever, never to return. They seemed quite content in tidying things up around the home (without being seen, of course), and when gifts of clothing were offered, the humans seemed to do a right good job of messing up a perfectly fine relationship.
I understand well enough that 'seeking them out' is not a part of how this works. I could go walk-about up in the Boundary Waters, to Ensign Lake. I could find the coordinates for the previous locations in which they were seen, (perhaps to the very same tree in Red Lake Reservation), but would such a thing be an infringement upon their privacy? Would I not be welcome there, even if my intentions were peaceful?
I cannot help but feel that we can gain much from knowing one another better. I shudder to think of a future in which other peaceful races shut us out entirely, leaving the Earth as a terraformed, planetary prison. With the rate at which we are corrupting nature and all life within it, I cannot foresee that the little and the big people would stay here indefinitely. At some point, I would imagine that they would all leave (if all of them have the ability to do so, that is); unless they be content sharing the Earth with a race of transhumanist termites. But then, I foresee this as one of the goals of the Sanctuary Project: to put humanity on a TRUE and natural path towards evolution, not an artificial one. What we can be and become lies with us; on both ends of the spectrum.
Statistics: Posted by Billy — Sun Aug 23, 2015 9:49 pm