Beyond the flicker of the firelight

AN EXPLORER UNRAVELS THE STORY OF AN EARLY 20TH CENTURY HAUNTING IN THE ISOLATED FOOTHILLS OF LABRADOR’S MEALY MOUNTAINS

- ADAM SHOALTS

Since the dawn of time, humans have told stories of strange and scary things that lurk in the darkness, beyond the flicker of the firelight. Our earliest ancestors, huddled in caves or simple shelters, feared the sunset, when darkness descended and most large predators became active. Some of the oldest cave paintings ever found depict nameless monsters that apparently hungered for human flesh. Cultures all over the world held similar beliefs about the darkest depths of the woods, remote mountain passes or inaccessible caves being home to flesh-eating trolls, giants, ogres or other frightening things.

In traditional Chinese folklore, Jué yuan were large, hairy monsters said to live deep in the mountains and abduct humans. To the north, in the barren wastes of the Mongolian deserts, local legend spoke of the dreaded olgoi-khorkhoi — the Mongolian death worm, which was supposedly so dangerous that even to touch it meant instant death. Meanwhile, in the steamy swamps of Australia, Aboriginal storytellers told of the fearsome bunyip, a terrifying creature with a call so frightening it struck paralyzing fear into the hearts of all who heard it. Half a world away, among peaks of ice and snow, the Sherpa people believed that the yeti lurked. Scandinavian traditions recount that hideous trolls haunted the northern woods and secluded mountains. In the legends of the Congo rainforest, Mokèlé-mbèmbé was reputed to be a horrifying creature that inhabited remote jungle lakes. In southern Africa, among the Zulu and Xhosa, tales were recited of the fearsome Inkanyamba, a giant river monster that prowled beneath waterfalls. Much has been made of the divide between different cultures, but at least on the subject of monsters lurking in the darkness, it seems people agreed.