Showing posts with label Legends. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Legends. Show all posts

Thursday, May 18, 2017

PAUL BUNYAN: Fact or Fiction? The Answer May Surprise You! by Sarah J. McNeal



Paul Bunyan and Babe, the Blue Ox 

Most of us have heard of Paul Bunyan from our childhoods. There was that delightful Disney movie about the giant lumberjack and Babe his blue ox and how they made the Rocky Mountains when they wrestled with each other one day. Just like a baseball player sliding into home base, they slide and pushed until they kicked up some dirt. That dirt piled up until they created those big ol’ mountains from their play. It was said one drag of the mighty lumberjack’s massive ax created the Grand Canyon, while the giant footprints of his trusty companion, Babe the Blue Ox, filled with water and became Minnesota’s 10,000 lakes.
But here is my question: was Paul Bunyan an exaggerated version of some real man that grew into a legend, or was Paul just a myth someone made up in their head and told often enough around the loggers’ campfires to imprint in the minds of others. He certainly makes for good story telling especially after a hard day’s work.Let’s just start at the beginning of this imaginative story. Legend has it that Paul Bunyan was delivered to his parents in Bangor, Maine by five storks (since he was already too big for one stork to handle). At some point he traveled to the west into Minnesota, Wisconsin, and beyond accompanied by his gigantic companion, Babe, the blue ox. All along the way they had fantastic adventures, made some mountains and created some lakes among other things. Pretty unbelievable I would say.
However, some historians believe Bunyan may have been an actual lumberjack named Fabian Fournier, a French-Canadian timberman who moved south and got a job as foreman of a logging crew in Michigan after the Civil War. At a time when most men were barely five feet tall, Fournier had a six foot frame with huge hands. Fournier went by the nickname “Saginaw Joe.” It was believed he had two complete sets of teeth, which he used to bite off hunks of wooden rails, and in his spare time enjoyed drinking and brawling. One November night in 1875, Fournier was murdered in a notoriously rowdy lumber town of Bay City, Michigan. His death, and the sensational trial of his alleged killer (who was acquitted), fueled tales of Saginaw Joe’s rough-and-tumble life—and his lumbering prowess—in logging camps in Michigan, Minnesota, Wisconsin and many others.
The Statues of Paul Bunyan & Babe, the blue ox, in Bemidji, Minnesota
Over time, Fournier’s legend merged with that of another French-Canadian lumberman, Bon Jean. Jean had played a prominent role in the Papineau Rebellion of 1837, when loggers and other working men in St. Eustache, Canada, revolted against the British regime of the newly crowned Queen Victoria. The French pronunciation of Jean’s full name is believed to have evolved into the surname Bunyan.
Like any gathering of fishermen or hunters, the stories grew a little with each retelling. A mythical logging camp was created for Paul as well as a host of loggers to work in the camp. Paul became an inventor, an orator and even a diplomat, all rolled into one. It seemed the more impossible the job became, the more it became a job for Paul Bunyan—the logger who could do it all!
By the late 1880's and early 1890's, the Paul Bunyan Tales had spread to most of the logging camps in North America. Paul had finally reached legendary status, at least in the logging camps. Yet among the general public, Paul Bunyan was almost unheard of.
The first Paul Bunyan story, “Round River,” made it into print in 1906, penned by journalist James MacGillivray for a local newspaper in Oscoda, Michigan. In 1912, MacGillivray collaborated with a poet on a Bunyan-themed poem for American Lumberman magazine, earning Paul Bunyan his first national exposure. Two years later, an ad campaign for Minnesota’s Red River Lumber Company featured the first illustrations of the larger-than-life lumberjack. Combined with pamphlets spinning the tales of his exploits, his prominent appearance as Red River’s mascot would help turn Paul Bunyan into a household name—and an enduring American icon.
                              Disney's Paul Bunyan and Babe
Walt Disney further heightened Paul Bunyan’s fame when he made the animated movie about him back when I was a child. Even now, there is a statue of Paul Bunyan and Babe, the blue ox that stands in Bemidji, Minnesota built in 1937. When my sister did a travel nurse assignment there some years ago, she brought back gifts she bought there. My gift was Christmas ornaments of Paul and Babe.

Whether Paul Bunyan was real or not, I think it’s wonderful to have these legendary characters from our culture who can perform fantastic feats with bravery and kindness.


Sarah J. McNeal is a multi-published author of several genres including time travel, paranormal, western and historical fiction. She is a retired ER and Critical Care nurse who lives in North Carolina with her four-legged children, Lily, the Golden Retriever and Liberty, the cat. Besides her devotion to writing, she also has a great love of music and plays several instruments including violin, bagpipes, guitar and harmonica. Her books and short stories may be found at Prairie Rose Publications and its imprints Painted Pony Books, and Fire Star Press. Some of her fantasy and paranormal books may also be found at Publishing by Rebecca Vickery and Victory Tales Press. She welcomes you to her website and social media:

Tuesday, October 6, 2015

RE-RUN: GHOSTS, LEGENDS AND LORE BENEATH THE BIGHORNS!



I know it's fall and the new shows are supposed to be on all channels, but I'm afraid I have to play a re-run here at Sweethearts of the West. I'm knee deep in deadlines and that can be scarier than some of the stories in this post.

Hope you'll forgive me and enjoy reading these legends beneath the Bighorns again!!








Wyoming has her share of ghouls, ghosts, legends and lore that’s for sure.  And here at the foot of the Bighorns we’re carving pumpkins and stockin’ up on candy for the little gobblins who will be knockin’ on our doors this Halloween.  So, it’s a good time to share about those haunting voices carried on the Wyoming winds and the bumps in the night that has us pulling our blankets over our heads.

Here in Sheridan there are tales of Miss Kate Arnold still keeping watch over her beloved Sheridan Inn. Miss Kate arrived in Sheridan in the early 1900s and worked and lived at the inn until her death in the 1960s. She loved the Inn so much, she requested her ashes to be buried there and it’s said they were buried the wall of her room.  Miss Kate is joined in her haunts by the son-in-law of Buffalo Bill Cody who took his life at the Inn after a series of business and personal failings. There is some speculation, however, that he didn’t take his life, but it was taken from him.  These are joined by many other tales from beyond from Sheridan to Buffalo and everywhere in between. Today,  I’d like to visit the in between at Lake DeSmet.

Lake DeSmet at sunset
 
Lake DeSmet , named for Father Pierre-Jean DeSmet a Jesuit missionary priest to the Indians in the 1800s. The lake is a beautiful, tranquil lake attracting fishermen and tourists.  Pioneers, however, reported horses and dogs wouldn’t go near the lake and strange noises echoed across the water at night. Hidden under this gem of blue water are legends and secrets best left undisturbed…but we’re going to disturb them. 

The low moans of a heart breaking it’s said belong to a Crow warrior, Little Moon.  His band was camped along the lake, when Little Moon asked his sweetheart, Star Dust, to meet him at the edge of the water once the others went to sleep.  Little Moon arrived at the spot before Star Dust. While he waited a mist hung over the lake and in the mist was the face of a beautiful girl, more beautiful than any girl he had ever seen.  The girl beckoned Little Moon with a smile.

Hypnotized by the water enchantress, Little Moon viciously pushed Star Dust aside when she arrived and tried to put her arms around him.  He turned back to the face in the mist to see it gone.
Star Dust cast herself into the water when repulsed by her lover. The next morning Star Dust’s body was found drowned by the red bluff north of the lake. Her father demanded revenge against Little Moon. The men of the band bound Little Moon to the rock and left him there to watch for his mysterious maiden. 

Now, when the wind moans over the lake it’s said to be the faithless lover caller; the howls of a disloyal sweetheart. His spirit destined to wander around the shore looking for his maiden.
Another legend is that of one of the first Indian bands to camp near the lake.  They tried to use the water for drinking and cooking, but found it to be bitter. Nothing in the area explained why the water would be bitter, so they believed its bitterness to be due to the presence of an evil spirit.
That night, terrifying sounds echoed around them and suddenly the lake was infested by great hordes of sea gulls.  Throughout the night they soared and cried and swarmed.  At dawn the gulls disbanded and disappeared. 

But the worst was yet to come. After breakfast the champion swimmer among the tribe ran to the lake’s edge, gave a happy whoop and plunged into the water. As the others watched he turned and opened his mouth as if to scream, his eyes widened in horror and he was sucked below the surface.  They circled the lake, not daring to enter the water, but after a time when all was lost, they grabbed their belongings and fled the lake in terror.

Local ranchers and early pioneers reported a monster appearing the mist and rising above the waters.  Smetty, because every water monster needs a truly terrifying name, is a legendary creature thought to dwell in the subterranean caverns of Lake DeSmet. These caverns are speculated to be a faraway outlet from the Pacific Ocean.

Those who have seen Smetty report a monster 30 to 40 feet long with bony ridges along the back. His head is said to resemble that of a horse and rises from the water in a swimming motion.  Others report a large alligator like creature and still others compare Smetty to the legendary Nessie of Loch Ness fame. 

One rancher, whose home was near the lake, rose early and went into the fields. He heard a strange noise coming from the lake and turned to see a huge sea serpent rise from the lake. It stayed only a second and then disappeared.  His description of Smetty approached more of a dinosaur than any other. 

Does a monster lurk under the waters of the lake? And does a Crow warrior still wail for his lost love? Well, guess you’ll just have to pitch a tent by the lake and find out for yourself.  (I’d bring a fishing pole with ya cause chances are better of catchin’ a trout)  

Just in time to join the other ghost stories in the area is the release of THE BALLAD OF ANNIE SULLIVAN. I had such fun bringing this ghost story to life. I fell in love with Hank and Annie and hope readers will, too.  


Hank Renner enjoys summers and early autumns when he can escape his large family and spend time alone at the cow camp in the Bighorn Mountains. That is, until he starts seeing a beautiful woman with flaming red hair and brown eyes, who disappears as quick as the Wyoming sunshine. Questioning his sanity, Hank begins a search that just might lead him to his heart.

Annie Sullivan wants only one thing more than revenge for a rape and murder that occurred ten years ago…Hank Renner. Haunting the mountain, she’s kept watch over the handsome cowboy. But this year she did something she’s never done before, something that could change everything. She’s let the man see her—and exposed her soul.

Two lonely souls search for the truth that could solve a murder and a love that could resurrect their hearts.





Kirsten Lynn writes stories based on the people and history of the West, more specifically those who live and love in Wyoming and Montana. Using her MA in Naval History, Kirsten, weaves her love of the West and the military together in many of her stories, merging these two halves of her heart. When she's not roping, riding and rabble-rousing with the cowboys and cowgirls who reside in her endless imagination, Kirsten works as a professional historian.



Wednesday, June 26, 2013

TALES OF TEXAS' HAUNTED LAKE ESPANTOSA


Recently, I read about a place in Texas of which I’d never heard,  Espantosa Lake. The name is Spanish and loosely translates to “haunted by horrors.” According to many sources, this lake is home to monsters, a wolf girl, ghosts, and ghost sounds of wagons and horses. Are you frightened yet?

One of only three natural lakes in Texas, Espantosa Lake was formed as a rasaca—an oxbow lake formed in the bend of the old Nueces River when the river changed its course millennia ago. It’s spring fed, which is what keeps water in it. The lake and legends are mentioned in J. Frank Dobie’s CORONADO’S CHILDREN and C. F. Eckhart’s TALES OF BAD MEN, BAD WOMEN, AND BAD PLACES.

Espantosa Lake lies between Crystal City and Carrizo Springs in the South Texas brush country.  This was on the earliest colonial mission trail between San Antonio and Coahuila, Mexico. When early Spanish explorers came through in 1740s, the lake was reported as “black with alligators.” That would send me speeding far away. I do not like alligators. But by the 1840s, there were no alligators, only water moccasins and an abundance of an ugly fish called alligator gar.  Neither of those is as bad as an alligator, but not welcome.

More frightening to me than any ghost--Alligators!
When English speaking explorers moved into the area, there were no alligators, but there were hair-raising screams of a woman. This is more easily explained than some of the other legends. Those who are familiar with the scream of a panther (also called cougar, puma, catamount, mountain lion) know that sound mimics a woman’s scream.  Was that what they heard?


Cougar - common in Texas
One of the earliest recorded fatal instances occurred in the early 1800's, when several Mexican families, en route to San Antonio, made camp there. As the group prepared to retire for the night, one woman went down to the murky water's edge to wash a few clothes. Soon afterward, the others were awakened by her screams of "Por Dios!" (My God!).

Though her companions rushed immediately toward the water's edge, they arrived only to see the swishing tail of a huge alligator disappearing beneath the lake's surface. Unable to recover the woman's body, the other settlers erected a cross at the site in her memory. 

Shocked and mournful, the group finally bedded down for what was agreed upon to be the final night there. But their slumber was disturbed again by the same scream, ringing out again and again: "Por Dios!" It was unmistakably her voice. At that, the campers packed up and left, but not before imparting the name  "Espantosa."

While true that Espantosa Lake is no longer black with alligators, I venture to say that all waterways in Texas are home to a few alligators. Flood years allow them further up in rivers, then strand them there during dry years. They are not always easily seen, but they're there. Take heed.

Talk of the Mexican woman's death and haunting return combined with a scattering of similar incidents over the next few years, soon created a place of myths. Legend held that a strange species of mermen supposedly inhabited the lake, emerging only to seize young women who dared approach the water's edge after the sun fell from the sky. Um, refer back to the tail of the alligator in the above tale.

Every bit as long-lived is the legend of the treasure-laden wagon. How many tales of lost Spanish treasure do you think there are? In this tale, a Spanish wagon from San Saba was filled with money, gold, silver, and jewels, and found its way to the banks of the Espantosa. The wagoneers decided to camp there for the night, and after watering and hobbling their horses, they bunked down. No sooner had they drifted off to sleep, however, than the ground suddenly began to tremble and shift beneath them. In a flash, the entire party --- men, wagon, and horses --- was swallowed with the collapsing earth. There were no survivors--so who knows what happened? Cave in, sink hole?

Perhaps the strangest tale of the Espantosa, though, is that of George Dent, who had camped near the lake with his pregnant wife while traveling in close proximity to the Beale colony. Possibly out of a wish for privacy, the Dents pitched camp a half-mile from the Beale group and thus were spared from becoming victims of the Indian massacre that obliterated most of the Beale group.

After hiding out from human predators for the second time, Dent maintained the campsite near the Espantosa. His wife was near the end of her pregnancy and was hesitant to travel. A severe thunderstorm occurred one night, during which Dent's wife went into labor. Alarmed, Dent mounted and rode off for help.

He came at length upon a small band of Mexican goat herders. Dent frantically told them of his wife's condition and begged some of the women to come and assist in the child's delivery. Upon learning of Dent's camp location, however, the superstitious Mexicans informed him that they wanted no part of Espantosa's ghostly environs, particularly at night, when the spirits were said to roam the lake and its shores.

Desperately, Dent pleaded with them, and eventually he prevailed upon one old woman to accompany him back to his camp. No sooner had the pair mounted up, though, than the already fierce storm resounded with renewed fury. Thunder crashed, and lightning illuminated the sky. Just such a bolt of lightning struck Dent, in fact, dropping him from atop his mount and killing him instantly.

After waiting out the violent storm, the goat herders mounted up and, following Dent's vague directions, tried to find his camp. At daybreak, they found Dent's campsite with Mrs. Dent dead.  She had obviously delivered her child, but the baby was nowhere to be found. After surveying the surrounding wreckage, the fang marks on the woman's body, and the numerous wolf tracks everywhere, the goat herders naturally surmised that the baby had been carried off by a pack of wolves.

Wolves also frighten me - I'm not a fan
even of werewolf tales
And that's where the story ended --- until about 15 years later. At that time, four cowboys were herding cattle near the Espantosa. A pack of wolves approached, and the herders chased the potential predators off. But as the wolves fled, the men were stunned at an unbelievable sight. Running with the wolves was what appeared to be a young, naked girl.

Spurring their horses onward, the cowboys managed to separate the creature from her lupine companions and chased her into a steep draw, where they cornered her and used their lassos to immobilize the strange being. They examined her and noted her human appearance, in spite of her wild mannerisms and non-human characteristics. She was nude, but covered with hair, and lacked the capacity for speech, save for her low growling sounds. She was quite agile on all fours, but moved very awkwardly when forced to stand erect.

After some speculation, the men took the wolf-girl to an abandoned farmhouse, where she was locked in a back room. The cowboys took turns standing guard. After darkness fell, the creature began howling in a loud, shrill voice that not only unnerved her captors but pierced through the night and aroused the pack. Before long, the wolves crept toward the house and charged the cottage, clawing and scratching at the doors and windows. Finally, they began attacking the horses and other domestic animals outside, forcing the men to run outside to fight them off.

As the battle between men and beasts continued outside, there arose a din from within the house. Glass shattered and wood splintered. Afterwards, the cowboys examined the locked back room, only to find that its floorboards had been pried open, allowing the "lobo-girl" to escape. The strange creature was gone forever --- or so it appeared.

Wolf Girl? I'm skeptical.
Within two years of her capture and escape, sightings of the wolf girl were reported by area residents. Without fail, these claims told of a young, naked, hair-covered girl running with a wolf pack. One Espantosa visitor gave a graphic account of seeing the wolf-girl drinking at the banks of the lake as newborn cubs tugged at her breasts. Subsequent reports followed of wolves with human faces. In 1974, a hunter in this area claimed to have seen her again, in the form of a ghost which vanished before his eyes. 

There are more instances which space precludes me sharing. In spite of these claims, the Espantosa remains a popular camping and recreational spot. Regardless of whether its mysteries tantalize or terrify, one thing is certain: the Espantosa's lore and allure will endure. For me, I think I'll vacation elsewhere.

Sources:
TALES OF BAD MEN, BAD WOMEN, AND BAD PLACES, but C. F. Eckhardt, Texas Tech Universtity Press, 1997.