Episode 105 – The Hills Have Eyes – Myths Your Teacher Hated

Episode 105 Show Notes

Source: Aboriginal Folklore

This week on MYTH, we’re bound for South Australia. You’ll see that little old ladies are dangerous, that it rarely pays to be bait, and that sometimes the killer is who you most medium suspect. Then, in Gods and Monsters, shifting shadows creep in the darkness in search of blood. This is the Myths Your Teacher Hated podcast, where I tell the stories of cultures from around the world in all of their original, bloody, uncensored glory. Modern tellings of these stories have become dry and dusty, but I’ll be trying to breathe new life into them. This is Episode 105, “The Hills Have Eyes”. As always, this episode is not safe for work.
This week’s story comes from the folklore of the Aborignal Austrailians and comes from the collection Folklore of the Noongahburrahs as told to the Piccaninnies collected by Mrs. K Langloh Parker (the pen name for Catherine Eliza Somerville Stow) in 1896. For clarity here (since the word Pickaninny became a slur in the United States), the word was originally used by the people of the West Indies to refer to their babies and small children; here, the book is basically a recording of folktales told to small children.
Long ago, there lived an old woman named Bougoodoogahdah. She didn’t care much for other humans and opted to live out in the wilderness with her two small dogs – oh, and also four hundred dingoes. Honestly? Respect. That right there is life goals. Anyway, living alone with wild, savage dogs didn’t do much for her temperament or her compassion for anyone that wasn’t a dingo. At some point, Bougoodoogahdah began killing people to make dinner for herself and her beloved dingoes. So maybe not life goals anymore. She was a cunning old thing and so was able to kill and butcher plenty of human flesh for all of those hungry mouths.
Whenever the larder started to look a little bare, she would head out towards the nearby creek. This being wild Australia, water was something of a precious commodity and so people would come from many miles away to get fresh water. If she just waited a little while, she would always meet people from farther away headed along the path, often in groups of 20 to 30. The Outback is wild and dangerous, so large groups offered a lot more safety. In theory anyway.
These groups would usually be perfectly willing to stop and approach the harmless looking old woman wandering all alone. She would greet them, friendly as can be, and offer them some helpful advice. “You boys look hungry. Tell you what, I’ll let you in on a little local secret. You like pademelons? I know where there’s a whole herd of ‘em.” Walking the dusty trails of the wilds was hungry work, so the thought of succulent pademelon meat (a small, furry, hopping animal similar to the larger wallabies and kangaroos) always got their tummies rumbling and their mouths watering. They would usually ask her where these delicious sounding critters could be found. “Oh over yonder, on the crest of that moorillah (a word in several Aboriginal dialects that meant ‘rock by the water’ and in this case referred to a ridge above the stream). If you head up there and have your nullahs ready (a word referring to a type of weapon known as a war or hunting stick), I’ll have two of my dogs round ‘em up and drive ‘em towards you. They’ll be easy pickings and you can eat your fill.”
Accepting the advice and aid of this sweet old woman without concern (after all, what could one little old lady do against two dozen warriors), the groups would head up to the ridge. Bougoodoogahdah would follow with the promised two dogs, small and nonthreatening. Once everyone was in place, she would let out a guttural call of “birree gougou” which was the signal for hundreds of waiting dingoes to jump the crouching hunters from behind. Trapped on the narrow, difficult terrain of the ridge, the men would be sitting ducks for the snapping jaws and ripping claws of the hungry dingoes. The men would fight back, of course, but they were no match for such a huge pack of coordinated hunting animals attacking from ambush. It wouldn’t take long for them to fall beneath the onslaught and get ripped to bloody shreds. Whatever the dingoes didn’t eat immediately, Bougoodoogahdah would drag back to her camp to butcher and cook and salt. Their meat would be dinner for the woman and her dingoes for a long time. When it ran low, she would head out again and the cycle would repeat.
As this went on, the surrounding tribes naturally noticed all of the mysteriously missing men. A band of armed warriors disappearing while retrieving water once or twice would be a tragedy that could be written off to the natural dangers of the Outback. Once the number of missing friends and family members climbs into triple digits, people get justifiably suspicious. Talking amongst themselves, they began to realize that all of the vanished men had been headed for the same stretch of creek when they disappeared. Since old Bougoodoogahdah was the only living soul for miles around, suspicion soon fell on her. Some of it might have been because she was a weird old lady living all alone with her animals – a common target of group suspicions of evil deeds like witchcraft – but in this case, they happened to be right. Bougoodoogahdah was absolutely a murderous cannibal worthy of any modern horror movie.
The surrounding people had plenty of suspicion but no actual proof, and they weren’t willing to move against an old lady and her two dogs without something more substantial than bad vibes. They talked it over and decided that the next group to go ranging over the hills towards the creek would divide into two. One would continue on as normal while the other would follow behind, hidden and watching.
The first group to split like this saw nothing amiss. They came and went without incident, but also without seeing any sign of the old woman. This in and of itself was not unusual. She often went out hunting with her two dogs and was not seen at home. No one knew about the huge pack of wild dingoes, which is where she often actually was when no one could find her. The next group to set out was not so lucky. They split up as planned well ahead of the old woman’s home, with the second group hanging back to watch. This time, old Bougoodoogahdah was running low on her supplies of people meat, so she went down to greet the first group of men with her two dogs. Despite being a cunning and brutal killer, she never even considered that these men might be running a trick of their own. She never noticed the second group hiding in the hills.
This smaller group watched as the old lady came down to chat with their friends and brothers. After a short conversation, the men headed up to the ridge, drawing their weapons and looking out over the hills like they were waiting for something. They heard Bougoodoogahdah utter her wild “biree gougou” and watched in horror as hundreds of dingoes suddenly exploded from the surrounding countryside in every direction. The watchers grabbed their own weapons, intent on rushing to the aid of their beleaguered comrades, but their leaders held them back. As hard as it was to do nothing, the leaders could see that it was already too late. The dingoes had pulled down most of the men in the first group in their initial charge; the rest would be dead long before the second group could hope to reach them. Breaking cover now would do nothing but alert Bougoodoogahdah that her secret had been found out. They couldn’t save their friends, but they could watch and learn so that the dead could be avenged.
Sick to their stomachs, they watched as the dingoes finished their red harvest and Bougoodoogahdah began to drag the mangled bodies up the hill to her camp with the help of the dingoes. Once they knew for sure where she had taken everything and watched where the dingoes went afterwards, the survivors headed back to their tribe to report on the horrors they had witnessed.
This was much, much worse than anyone had suspected. Some sort of awful treachery had been suspected, but an army of 400 dingoes was more than the tribe could hope to face, especially now that so many of their best hunters were dead. The tribe’s leaders sent messengers to all of the surrounding tribes who, they knew, had also lost many of their own people to this cannibal horror in the hills. Everyone was outraged at this atrocity and agreed to band together to wipe out this threat for the good of them all.
The survivors of the first massacre agreed to be bait for the attack. They headed up the path towards the creek and were unsurprised to meet old Bougoodoogahdah at her usual spot. They pretended to be very interested in her promise of pademelons and went up to the ridge where she always slaughtered her prey. This time though, before she could signal her dingoes, 200 armed warriors sprang out of their own ambush and fell on the surprised canines in a rush. The small knot on the ridge turned and attacked the old woman who was responsible for so much death themselves. In the name of those they had watched die, they killed old Bougoodoogahdah and her two little dogs then rushed to help in the battle against the dingoes.
By the time the dust had settled, more than a few of the attacking warriors lay dying on the blood-soaked earth, but all of the dingoes had been slain. The deed done and victory won, the survivors bandaged up their wounded and prepared to head back home to recover. The dingoes and the dead cannibal were left to rot in the sun. As the men prepared to leave, they heard the corpse of the old woman cry out “Bougoodoogahdah!” Well that was truly a shock and a horror. One of the rules of surviving a horror movie – always check your kill. The monster always seems to have one last gasp of menace left in them. Taking up their weapons, the warriors went back to the bloody corpse and stabbed it a few more times, breaking its legs for good measure. Surely that would be enough to put her down for good right?
Wrong. As they began to leave again, they again heard the old woman’s voice call out “Bougoodoogahdah!” Beginning to fear something unnatural (well, more unnatural than all of this had already been), they went back and stabbed her a few more times and then broke every single bone in her body. That would surely stop even the most determined supernatural killer. Except it didn’t. Again came the haunting cry of “Bougoodoogahdah!” One brave soul sat down in hiding near the body to watch as the others prepared to leave again. He heard her cry out again and saw her chest twitch as though her heart was still somehow beating, wild and erratic.
Even as he watched, the heart pulsed and beat out of her chest before exploding entirely. Out of the ruined mess crawled a little bird. It looked out over the hills and opened its beak: “Bougoodoogahdah!” Then it ran off on its little legs into the Outback. To this day, the little bird wanders the moorillahs along the creeks. During the day, it stays in one place, hiding from sight. At night, it comes out to hunt and fills the air with its strange cry. “Bougoodoogahdah!” The locals call it a rain-maker for if anyone steals one of its eggs, it will call out incessantly until at last the rain falls in answer to its cry. The why of that particular connection is not really explained. Whenever there is a drought, people will seek out the little rainbird and chase it to make it cry out. If you hear it’s call of “Bougoodoogahdah, Bougoodoogahdah” in the daytime, you know that the rain will soon fall.
As for the bodies of the slain dingoes, they too underwent a strange change. Their bloody bodies warped and twisted, turning into the long, coiling forms of dozens of different kinds of snakes, all of them venomous and angry. The two little dogs were likewise transformed, changing into the dayall minyah, a small, non venomous little snake (since the little dogs had never attacked the tribesmen, though they had still eaten the flesh of the slain, which wasn’t their fault). The moorilahs where Bougoodoogahdah used to slay her victims are still there, covered in heaps of white stones that are said to be the ancient, fossilized bones of the dead. And with this particular cannibal dealt with, it’s time for Gods and Monsters. This is a segment where I get into a little more detail about the personalities and history of one of the gods or monsters from this week’s pantheon that was not discussed in the main story. This week’s monster is the Mamu.
Given the abundance of deadly critters that famously stalk Australia, it’s no surprise that plenty of equally deadly monsters stalk the Aborignal legends. Monstrous legends are a common way for people to deal with fear and/or to provide memorable warnings about very real dangers. One of the common features of Outback monsters are, as we saw in the main tale, a marked propensity towards cannibalism.
Deep in the Western Desert (and more specifically the Anangu Pitjantjatjara Yankunytjatjara lands of South Australia) lies the territory of the deadly Mamu. In some tales, they are bald but most stories say they are covered in thick, wiry hair that stands out on end like pine needles. They walk upright like hunched, weazened little men but the similarity ends there. The Mamu have large, bulging eyes perched above wide mouths full of vicious, flesh-rending teeth.
The Mamu can be particularly hard to find (not that you’d want to) or to spot coming since they are gifted shape-shifters. The uncanny valley humanoid is only one of their forms and may or may not be their natural one. They are also known to attack as snarling dogs, enormous sharp-beaked birds of prey, or even falling stars in some tales. In most stories, the Mamu live in the dark places beneath the earth or in the hollows of dead trees, both places to be avoided by anyone not looking for trouble. When the mushroom cloud bloomed over the horizon during the 1956 British atomic bomb tests at Maralinga, the destruction and devastation was attributed to the Mamu and their fury at having their underground lair disturbed.
It is said that, in the beginning, the Mala people came from the north until they found Uluru Rock (also known as Ayers Rock). It seemed like a good place to settle for a time and make inma (a sacred ceremony). The men decorated and raised a Ngaltawata, or ceremonial pole, signaling the start of the event. There was still much to be done, and so the Mala people scattered to prepare. The women gathered and prepared food for everyone, storing nyuma (a type of seed cake) in their caves. The men went out hunting, made fires, and fixed their tools and weapons.
While all of this was going on, two Wintalka men approached from the west. Seeing the Mala newly arrived, the Wintalka invited them to attend their own upcoming inma. The Mala refused as politely as they could, explaining that the ceremony had already begun and therefore could not be stopped. Once started, it had to be finished. Disappointed, the two Wintalka men headed back to their own fires.
They shared the news of this new group near Uluru Rock and how they had refused the invitation. As they told their story, the assembled Wintalka people began to feel slighted and then deeply insulted by the refusal of hospitality. Guestright is a very big deal in a lot of places. Getting up a good head of furious steam, the Wintalka decided to summon an evil spirit to wreak havoc and get vengeance for the insult.
Together, they called up Kurpany, an enormous creature that looked like some kind of hellhound and sent it out to destroy the Mala inma that was apparently so very damned important. Howling at the moon overhead, Kurpany raced off towards the Mala. As he did so, his form shivered and changed over and over, trying out many different shapes to see what suited him best. You see, Kurpany the shapeshifting spirit was the first Mamu.
Back at the Mala camp, a sharp-eyed woman named Luunpa the kingfisher woman spied his strange, unnatural shape approaching through the darkness. Realizing that nothing good could come from such a terrible creature, she hurried into the camp proper to warn everyone about the approaching danger. Wrapped up in their preparations, the Mala gave only a cursory glance out into the darkness. Their eyes were not as keen as Luunpa’s were and, not seeing the dark shape she swore was out there, they dismissed her warning and went back to the inma. Don’t set a lookout if you’re not going to listen to them.
Grinning hugely with his mouth full of jagged teeth, Kurpany raced silently across the arid landscape and launched himself into the Mala. Claws slicing and teeth rending, the Mamu tore a wide swath of carnage through the camp, killing several of the men. Fear and confusion erupted in the camp, causing the surviving Mala to flee to the south. Kurpany, soaked in the blood of the dead and dying, pursued them as they ran into South Australia. Luunpa was transformed into a rock to keep eternal vigil over the site of the massacre. Below her stony gaze lie the footprints of Kurpany imprinted into the very earth for all time. The spirits of the men who died are still lost down in the caves, doomed to wander forever for ignoring Luunpa’s timely warning.
That’s it for this episode of Myths Your Teacher Hated. Keep up with new episodes on our Facebook page, on iTunes, on Stitcher, on TuneIn, on Vurbl, and on Spotify, or you can follow us on Twitter as @HardcoreMyth and on Instagram as Myths Your Teacher Hated Pod. You can also find news and episodes on our website at myths your teacher hated dot com. If you have any questions, any gods or monsters you’d want to learn about, or any ideas for future stories that you’d like to hear, feel free to drop me a line. I’m trying to pull as much material from as many different cultures as possible, but there are all sorts of stories I’ve never heard, so suggestions are appreciated. The theme music is by Tiny Cheese Puff.
Next time, we’re going to delve into some very common fairy tale tropes from a new (to us anyway) place – Armenia. You’ll discover why you shouldn’t threaten your adopted mother, why you shouldn’t beat your family, and why you shouldn’t hang out with wicked men. Then, in Gods and Monsters, if a cat steals from you, there’s only one option – revenge! That’s all for now. Thanks for listening.