Strange, But True.

[Ninurta]

Ninurta, good information you posted. I have looked into these Pukwudgies after a few experiences in the woods.

I have heard the sound of children who weren't there. This happened to me once here at my place in the woods and down the road about a mile from me to a friend of mine. It's like fairy glamour, they will lead you away into the woods and have you cross over into their realm for awhile (if you're lucky) or forever (if not).

The wee folk are all over the world and different cultures have different descriptions of them, but their interest in messing with humans is always similar. They can be invisible or materialize into most any forms they need to use and although they will sometimes get angry and come after people who see them, most times they are just going about their business and are merely curious when you appear to them in their world.

That's nothing I've ever heard, but I have heard OF it - people hearing children, usually sounding like they are at play, who turn out not to be there. That phenomena bears investigation.

I live in a long valley, called a "holler" or "hollow", that is about 5 or 6 miles long, bounded on each side by high ridges that come together at the "head" of the "holler" and merge there into a sort of cul-de-sac. In each of those ridges, along the length of the valley and perpendicular to it, other, smaller, hollows cut into the mountain sides that form the ridges like branches on the trunk of a tree, all opening at their mouths into the central valley. This valley is itself just another "holler" that cuts into a long ridge that is 25 or 30 miles long running southwest-northeast. It's like fractals - hollers branching from hollers ad infinitum.

My grandparents built this house. the one  that I live in, a long time ago. Before that, they lived in the holler directly across the valley from it, in a house on the side of that hollow, almost all the way up into the head of it. That is where my mother was born. If one continues past the remains of that house, and on to the top of the ridge, my family cemetery is up there, just on the other side of the road that runs along the top of that ridge, about 1100 meters distant from here where I sit. My family has been in this valley for nearly 200 years, but no one has lived in that holler for around 60 years. I have a picture of myself sitting on my great-great grandfather's lap when I was little. He was born in 1865, right at the end of the Civil War. His dad was a Confederate Cavalryman in that war, in Co. G, 10th KY Cavalry, CSA. The two people in that one picture lived over a continuous span of 156 years, and counting, with about a 4 or 5 year overlap.

So I have a little history on this spot.

Some times, late at night in the wee hours, I hear drums and singing, like one would hear at a pow wow, coming out of that holler across the valley, the one my mother was born in. This happens usually between 3 am and 5 am. I have sat on my porch in the middle of the night, listening to it and looking for any signs that there are people up there, such as the glow of a fire or the beam of a flashlight, or something like that, but have never seen anything, just heard it.

I've never gone up into the woods looking for the source while the drumming was going on. My eyes are not what they once were, and I'm not confident any more in my ability to sneak up on it in the dark without a light as I once could have, and of course taking a light would announce my approach, so I'd likely never get to the source anyhow before it went quiet.

Nor have I asked anyone else who lives here whether they have ever heard it or not. They already look at me a little strangely, and that would just give them another tale to tell about me... 

Other sounds I hear coming out of that holler in the night can be attributed to the nature surrounding me. A big ol' hoot owl with a booming hoot lives up there that I occasionally hear. it came down one night and sat in a walnut tree just on the other side of the creek hooting at me, but never has crossed the creek to come up here. I hear screeching and squealing coming out of the holler sometimes, which I chalk up to a fox barking over there in the woods. The drumming and singing, and one night some unearthly screams,  are the only things I hear coming out of there that I cannot attribute to nature.

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