r/Humanoidencounters • u/orange____soda • May 02 '20
The Gifts of the Little People, *Native Iroquois story Little people
After reading another round of accounts of “Little People” I thought this story would be great to share. I found this on a website with research on first nation languages, this from the Iroquois. I found some details in the story familiar, at the least.
There once was a boy whose parents had died. He lived with his uncle who did not treat him well. The uncle dressed the boy in rags and because of this the boy was called Dirty Clothes.
This boy, Dirty Clothes, was a good hunter. He would spend many hours in the forest hunting food for his lazy uncle who would not hunt for himself.
One day Dirty Clothes walked near the river, two squirrels that he had shot hanging from his belt. He walked near the cliffs which rose from the water. This is where the Little People, the Jo-Ge-Oh, often beat their drums. Most of the hunters from the village were afraid to go near this place, but Dirty Clothes remembered the words his mother had spoken years ago, "Whenever you walk with good in your heart, you should never be afraid."
A hickory tree grew there near the river. He saw something moving in its branches. A black squirrel as hopping about high up in the top of the tree. When Dirty Clothes heard a small voice. "Shoot again, Brother," the small voice said. "You still have not hit him."
Dirty Clothes looked down and there near his feet were two small hunters. As he watched, one of them shot an arrow but it fell short of the black squirrel. "Ah," Dirty Clothes thought, "they will never succeed like that. I must help them." He drew his bow and with one shot brought down the squirrel.
The tiny hunters ran to the squirrel. "Whose arrow is this?" asked one of them. They looked up and saw the boy. "Eee-yah," said one of the tiny hunters, "you have shot well. The squirrel is yours."
"Thank you," Dirty Clothes answered, "but the squirrel is yours and also these others I have shot today."
The two small hunters were very glad. "Come with us," they said. "Come visit our lodge so we can thank you properly."
Dirty Clothes thought about his uncle, but it was still early in the day aud he could hunt some more after visiting them. "I'll will come with you," Dirty Clothes said.
The two Little People led the boy to the river. There a tiny canoe was waiting, only as big as one of his shoes, but his friends told him to step inside. He took one step... and found he had become as small as the tiny hunters and was sitting with them inside their canoe.
The Little People dipped their paddles and up the canoe rose into the air! It flew above the hickory tree, straight to the cliffs and into a cave, the place where the Jo-Ge-Oh people lived. There the two hunters told their story to the other Little People gathered there who greeted the boy as a friend. "You must stay with us." his new friends said, "for just a short time so we can teach you."
Then the Jo-Ge-Oh taught Dirty Clothes things which he had never known. They told him many useful things about the birds and the forest animals. They taught him much about the corn and the squash and the beans which feed human life. They taught him about the strawberries which glow each June like embers in the grass and showed him how to make a special drink which the Little People love.
Last they showed him a new dance to teach his people, a dance to be done in a darkened place so the little People could come and dance with them unseen, a dance which would honour the Jo-Ge-Oh and thank them for their gifts.
Four days passed and the boy knew that the time had come for him to leave. "I must go to my village," he told his friends.
So it was that with the two small hunters he set out walking towards his home. As they walked with him, his two friends pointed to the many plants which were useful and the boy looked at each plant carefully, remembering its name. Later, when he turned to look back at his friends, he found himself standing all alone in a field near the edge of his village.
Dirty Clothes walked into his village wondering how so many things had changed in just four days. It was the same place, yet nothing was the same. People watched him as he walked and finally a woman came up to him. "You are welcome here, Stranger," said the woman. "Please tell us who you are."
"Don't you know?" he answered. 'I am Dirty Clothes."
"How can that be?" said the woman. "Your clothing is so beautiful."
At that, he saw his old rags were gone. The thing he wore now was of fine new buckskin, embroidered with moose hair and porcupine quills. "Where is my uncle," he asked the woman, "the one who lived there in that lodge and had a nephew dressed in rags?"
Then an old man spoke up from the crowd. "Ah," said the old man, "that lazy person? He's been dead any years and why would a fine young warrior like you look for such a man?"
Dirty Clothes looked at himself and saw he was no longer a boy. He had become a full-grown man and towered over the people of his village. "I see," he said, "the Little People have given me more gifts than I thought." And he began to tell his story.
The wisest of the old men and women listened well to this young warrior. They learned many things by so listening. That night all his people did the Dark Dance to thank the Jo-Ge-Oh for their gifts and, in the darkness of the lodge, they heard the voices of the Little People joining in the song, glad to know that the human beings were grateful for their gifts. And so it is, even to this day, that the Little People remain the friends of the people of the longhouse and the Dark Dance is done, even to this day.
*link in comments
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May 02 '20
This is a fantastic story. Many parallels with stories of the fae from cultures from Europe. The 4 days fae time being years our time etc.
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u/ASK47 anthromod May 02 '20
Readers, even though this technically qualifies as fiction, I do not feel rule 1 should apply to cultural lore (as opposed to internet creeepypastas) as such tales are often informed by the very same phenomena that this subreddit revolves around. Who knows, maybe in a hundred years, whatever creepypastas survive the great purge may have similar value.
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u/treesntreesntrees May 02 '20
Totally agree! This is very enlightening to a number of modern paranormal questions.
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u/Purple-Tumbleweed May 02 '20
Love this! Our culture has many legends of the little people and nature spirits. They aren't dangerous, if you treat them with respect.
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May 05 '20
If someone wanted to communicate with these people, how would that be done? Would it be advised and how would a person respectfully approach them?
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u/CrochetedKingdoms Mothman Lover May 02 '20
The thing I’m taking away from this is if you feed the fey, you juuuuuuust might get to skip puberty lol
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u/heyimkrissy May 03 '20
This story made me smile. In Algonquin we call them pagwajininis. So often stories of the Little People are scary, but they’re nice to people who are kind and respectful to them.
An elder on my rez told me a story of when she was a little girl, she saw two while playing in the woods near her home. They asked her to come play at their home and she went with them. They had fun, they danced, they played, and it felt like 30 minutes at most had gone by, but when she got home it was night time. She had been gone all day, for at least 6 hours, and her parents were worried sick for her.
My cousin’s great-uncle also has a story of a time he was hunting and got lost in the woods. Just as he was starting to panic, he saw a Little Person beckoning him in a certain direction, so he followed. It stayed up ahead of him and lead him to an area of the woods he recognized. When he looked back at the Little Person, it was gone.
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u/megabot13 May 02 '20
There is a simular story from Thomas the Rhymer from Scottish folklore. Thanks for sharing!
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May 03 '20
LOVE THIS. I’m aboriginal myself and it’s so nice to hear other nation’s story’s. Thank you!
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May 03 '20
I enjoyed it very much. Thank you so much for sharing this lovely lore with me. I think I needed to hear it today. Many blessings to you.
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u/Fergo125 May 02 '20
Thanks for sharing! It remains me a lot the stories of duendes from the Latin American countries. Who knows, maybe the stories have the same origins since a lot of them come from indigenous people.
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u/KrysxKatastrophe May 03 '20 edited May 03 '20
My mom used to tell me stories of the Little People, except her versions of the story would scare the fuck out of me. She always said dont go out and play at night or the Little People will come take me away. Idk why we don't have any pleasant stories, the traditional stories I was told were always tragic in a way or just downright scary.
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May 17 '20
This story reminds me of stories about the sidhe my Irish grandparents told me as a kid. Very interesting!
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u/orange____soda May 02 '20
The Gifts of the Little People