The Sarpo jungle is no one's land. Animals of all kinds are the only ones that are supposed to be there, because no hunter who traveled deep into the Sarpo jungle has ever reported seeing a trace of human beings. Over the years, several brave and experienced hunters have been beaten and killed while on hunting trips in the jungle. These hunters’ bodies, living or dead, were never found.
These mysteries were linked to witchcraft activities or fellow hunters were accused, arrested, and imprisoned. Sometimes the villagers administered their own traditional method of justice with sassawood when the psychic detectives skills of the zoes failed. When a hunter picks up his rifle, dresses in his hunting attire decorated with fetishes and magical charms and steps out to take on that thick, dark jungle, his family worries about his safe return. They worry about antagonistic hunters, and witches and wizards.
One experienced and brave hunter narrated to his children, nieces and nephews this scary hunter story . . .
On one of his night hunting trips, hunter Saygbeh saw a jinni clothed by lightning bugs near a swamp close to the Sanquin River. He was frightened and stiff as the supernatural being tried to get lost from his view. He described it as being of enormous height. He said until the creature vanished, he felt more dead rather than alive.
“It was a powerful creature. It owns the jungle and everything that is in it. No one ever came across it and went away mentally sound. Countless hunters and farmers were victims of its enchantment. It is destructive when you are not invited to appear in its sight. It gives you protection and power at its own invitation in a dream. But accepting its gift is a terrible thing to do. One unconsciously becomes its servant and does as it pleases. It controls your family and monitors your movements.”
Saygbeh asked his family, “who says the Sarpo jungle is no one's land?” After a long day of hunting, he decided to end the day fishing by the Sanquin River. When he approached the river, he saw a very huge light-skinned man about 10 ft. tall and 350 pounds. The man sat facing the Sanquin River, fishing from the banks.
Saygbeh walked courageously towards him without fear of the man’s enormous size. He got closer and closer, and then he began to feel tense and frozen. He cleared his throat twice, but the man did not turn around to see who it was. He positioned his rifle in readiness to confront the man in any eventuality. But the man still would not shake.
He walked up the man and asked, “What is your name my friend?” Saygbeh asked in a bass voice and hostile manner with the intent to show supremacy over the man and scare him.
“Ma nane Jla.”
“What kind of Sarpo name is 'I don’t care',” Saygbeh wondered.
“Jla-aah?”
The man answered again. “Yea men, I say, ma nane Jla.”
Jla,” Saygbeh called his name. “Where are you living, my friend?”
“I live here.”
“Here by the river?”
“I live here by the river, and everywhere in this jungle, my friend.”
When Saygbeh turned his head, the man vanished. So Saygbeh hurried to his hut two miles away from the river. His encounter with Jla was not the last event with strange beings.
He was always curious to follow sounds in the jungle. His curiosity once led him close to an enormous hill where constant shootings were taking place. Saygbeh moved stealthily towards the hill, hoping to see who was doing the shooting. He saw from the distance an open area without any shelter, with grey smoke circling the sky. He tiptoed closer, holding his rifle tight to his chest, alert for his security.
He reached his point spot and blew his magic powder in the direction of the open unsheltered area. He took a deep breath each time he felt uneasy. After looking around and seeing nothing, he looked for somewhere to hide to continue surveying the area.
In a little while, when he was about to fall asleep, ten short creatures marched in a straight line onto the open area. Each one of them carried a deer or a monkey on his arm.
“They are dwarfs, they are dwarfs,” he said to himself. “How come they don’t have shelter? They must have, but perhaps their shelter must be invisible!”
He quietly recoiled from his hiding place and headed back to his hut. But he saw another amazing thing on his way.
He saw only one large human footstep in the mud-spattered ditch. He tried to properly observe the footstep to see if it was a real human footprint. He compared and counted the toes; they matched that of a human. But he was astonished that it was only one footstep. He combed the entire vicinity, hoping to solve the mystery, but to no avail.
