I have one more book to read about the Bunyip, but while I do that, let’s take a moment to look at some other Aussie cryptids. (Thanks to commenter squiggyd for the suggestion. We’re always up for new natural, supernatural, and fantastical beasts.)
I’ve talked about the Yowie in connection with the very similar Bigfoot and Yeti , but the Yara-ma-yha-who and the Drop Bear are new to me. A couple of other creatures either recall cryptids of other continents or possibly hark back to prehistoric fauna. There are also creatures from Indigenous tradition, who may or may not be based on animals either extant or extinct; their significance tends toward the spiritual. They crop up in lists of Australian cryptids, but I’m focused here on the scientific, or scientific-adjacent, side of the story.
The Yara-ma-yha-who is not especially large, but it’s terrifying. It’s about four feet tall, bright red, and it lurks in trees and drops down on prey that passes below. It grips them with suckers on its fingers and toes, and drains nearly all of their blood.
Then, while they’re still alive but greatly weakened, it swallows them whole and falls into a digestive torpor, during which it regurgitates the still living prey. When it wakes up, it repeats the process. It continues to do so, until the victim becomes a brand-new Yara-ma-yha-who. Capture by this vampire of the Outback is literally a fate worse than death.
A less frightening and more familiar type of cryptid is the Hawkesbury River Monster, known to Indigenous peoples of New South Wales as the Moolyewonk or the Mirreeulla. Like the Bunyip (and other aquatic monsters of Australia), it has a reputation for attacking women and children who come near or into the river. It’s been sighted off and on since the 1800s, but can supposedly be found in petroglyphs dating back 3000 years.
This is a classic river monster. It’s 25 to 35 feet long (roughly 7.5 to 10.5 meters), plesiosaur-like, with a large, bulbous, darkish body, a long neck and a small head, a thick, tapering tail, and four broad flippers. It’s reputed to attack and destroy small boats, and may be able to move about on land. Like most cryptids, it exists mainly in oral tradition, with little or no physical evidence.
While we’re on reptiles, a lesser-known example is the Burrunjor. Indigenous people call it “Old Three-Toes.” It’s been sighted as recently as the 1980s, and is described as a giant lizard, nocturnal, capable of walking on two legs like a Tyrannosaurus Rex. It feeds on livestock; it doesn’t appear to attack humans.
It’s possible that the Burrunjor is a giant monitor lizard or goanna, a perentie . The perentie is native to the area in which the Burrunjor has been sighted, and it’s the largest monitor lizard in Australia. It averages over six feet (two meters) long, and grow as large as ten feet (three meters), large enough to take down a goat.
If the Burrunjor is a possible living animal, the Drop Bear is most likely the opposite. I’ve talked about Pull-Your-Leg Cryptids in North America. Australia’s contribution to the genus is a giant mutant koala that lurks in the trees like the Yara-ma-yha-Who, and falls on its prey from above. It either devours the victim on the spot, or hauls it back up into the trees to dine on at its leisure.
Legend has it that the Drop Bear is generally a shy and elusive creature, but it may attack walkers in the bush. Although it’s not known to have killed a human, it has bruised or bitten the occasional traveler. Locals are especially careful to warn tourists against venturing under trees.
If they must ignore the warnings, there are a couple of options for repelling attack. Wearing forks in the hair may deter the beast with their sharp tines. (Drop Bears, like koalas, do not in fact have fangs; they have sharp incisors and strong premolars designed for grinding—which means, actually, that they must be herbivorous). Or the traveler may try a dab of Vegemite behind the ears, or a squeeze of toothpaste.
Right. Yep. Uh-huh. Whether minty-fresh or umami-forward, the credulous visitor is easily detected as they trek through the bush—a testimony to the power of the human imagination, not to mention the ancient tradition of punking the tourists.
