Jogah (also Jogaoh, Jungies; the Little People)

Region/Culture: North America (Haudenosaunee/Iroquois of the northeastern woodlands)
Mythos: Native American Mythology
Primary Type/Nature: Fairy Folk and Spirit Beings
Mythical Attributes: Small, usually invisible nature spirits of immense strength who tend the rocks and rivers, the growing plants, and the dark places beneath the earth.
Role in Mythos: The Jogah keep the natural world in balance, guarding the fruitfulness of the land and holding back the creatures of the underworld that would bring sickness.
Relation to Humans: They are generally friendly toward the Iroquois and will do favors for people who leave tobacco and other offerings, though they play tricks and can turn dangerous when their homes are disrespected. They are remembered in the feasts of thanksgiving and courted through the Dark Dance so their goodwill keeps the maple flowing and the seeds waking.

A hunter stops on a shelf of grey stone and feels drumming come up through the soles of his feet. There is no fire, no ring of dancers, no one on the whole hillside but him. The sound is small and steady, the size of a child’s hands on a stretched hide, and it travels under the rock the way meltwater travels under ice. He drops a pinch of tobacco into a shallow bowl worn into the stone and moves on without looking for the drummers. He knows the Little People are close, and he knows they would rather be heard than seen.

These are the Jogah, the little folk of the Haudenosaunee, the people that outsiders once called the Iroquois. They belong to the Mohawk, the Cayuga, the Onondaga, the Seneca, the Oneida, and the Tuscarora, and they are woven into the oldest layer of woodland belief in the northeast. Mostly they are invisible. When they choose to appear, it is to children, to the very old, and to the medicine people, as if the spirits trust only those with little to prove. They stand no higher than a child of six or seven, wiry and brown and disproportionately powerful, and their voices carry farther than their bodies ever do.

They are not one people but three, each keeping to its own corner of the living world. The Gahonga hold the rocks and the rushing streams, and despite standing barely knee-high to a grown man they can tear a full-grown tree out of the ground by its roots. Their favorite pastime is a rough game of catch played with stones the size of boulders, which is why the Iroquois know them as the Stone Throwers. The Gandayah look after the plants, telling the grain when to sprout and the strawberry runners where to reach, walking the fields at night to guard the harvest from blight and pests. They love strawberries above all things. When they carry news they take the shape of birds, a robin if the word is good and an owl if it is not. The third tribe, the Ohdowas, live in the shadowed hollows beneath the earth, and their work is grimmer. They keep watch on the monsters and the poison-breathing creatures of the underworld, and by night they come up to dance and to hunt down anything that has slipped loose from below and might spread disease across the surface.

No single story explains where the Jogah came from. They are simply there, older than memory, as much a part of the land as the streams they guard. Their names shift from telling to telling, Jogaoh in one mouth, Jungies in another, and the boundaries between the three tribes blur at the edges. What stays constant is the traffic between them and the people who share their country. In a drought, the Iroquois would search the woods for small cup-shaped hollows pressed into the soft earth, shape them into dew cups, and leave them as charms to coax the Gandayah back to their work of quickening the fields. A robin at the edge of the clearing meant the little farmers had heard.

The bond ran deeper than charms. The Jogah were honored in the Feasts of Thanksgiving, thanked for helping the sweet water of the maple to flow, for whispering to the growing seeds, for guiding the runners of the strawberries across the ground. There was a society devoted to them and a ceremony that belonged to them alone, the Dark Dance, a rite of a hundred and two songs divided into four parts and sung entirely in the dark. The little folk were reckoned next to the people themselves in importance, powerful beings whose favor everyone wanted. Members of the society saved the parings of their fingernails and threw them over the cliffs for the Pygmies, a small strange gift for spirits who asked for small strange things.

Their power is the power of the natural world doing what it should. The Gahonga bend the strength of stone and current. The Gandayah command growth and can turn a good harvest into a poor one if they are slighted. The Ohdowas stand between the living world and the plagues that wait beneath it. Cross them and the same forces turn against you. Foul a spring, mock the drumming, take the land for granted, and the tricks begin, and behind the tricks lies real harm. Yet for all their strength the Jogah are bound by the oldest rule of the woods, which is reciprocity. Their gifts are not owned, only borrowed, and they flow only toward those who give something back. Leave the tobacco. Say the thanks. Leave them alone. They ask for very little, and they remember whether you gave it.

Frequently Asked Questions

What is the Jogah in Iroquois mythology?

The Jogah are the “Little People” of the Haudenosaunee, or Iroquois, of the northeastern woodlands of North America. They are small, usually invisible nature spirits, only two to four feet tall but immensely strong, who guard the rocks and rivers, the growing plants, and the underworld. Generally friendly toward humans, they reward respect and offerings but can turn mischievous or dangerous when disrespected.

What are the three tribes of the Jogah?

The Jogah are divided into three groups, each tied to a part of the natural world. The Gahonga, or Stone Throwers, live among the rocks and streams and possess enormous strength; the Gandayah tend the plants and crops and take the form of robins or owls to carry news; and the Ohdowas dwell underground, guarding the surface world from the monsters and diseases of the underworld.

Are the Jogah good or evil?

The Jogah are generally benevolent toward the Iroquois and will do favors for people who treat them and their homes with respect, especially those who leave offerings of tobacco. They can, however, play tricks and become dangerous to anyone who mocks or harms them, so their goodwill has to be earned and maintained rather than assumed.

How did the Iroquois honor the Jogah?

The Iroquois remembered the Jogah in their Feasts of Thanksgiving and kept a special society devoted to them, whose central rite was the Dark Dance, a ceremony of 102 songs sung entirely in darkness. Devotees left offerings such as tobacco and even fingernail parings thrown over cliffs, and in times of drought they made dew-cup charms in the earth to coax the Gandayah back to tending the fields.

Why do the Gandayah appear as robins?

The Gandayah, the plant-tending tribe of the Jogah, are messengers as well as guardians, and they take the shape of birds to deliver their news. A robin signals that their word is good, while an owl signals bad news. This is why a robin appearing after a farmer’s dew-cup offering was read as a sign that the Little People had heard and would help the crops grow.