Grumbly Tumbleweed

Some links in this article are affiliate links, which means I may earn a small commission if you purchase through them, at no additional cost to you. As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases.

Look inside... if you dare!

If you've ever peeked inside an old abandoned underground mine, you know how easy it can be to let your imagination get the best of you.

It's dark. It's mysterious. It's dangerous. You can only see what's directly in front of you, wherever your headlamp is shining... and you have no idea what's waiting around the corner.

The setting underground hasn't changed very much since the mine was active. The rock tunnels still look the same, mostly. It's just that all the miners have left, and at the moment, you're the only one there.

It's easy to think, "Oh, it's only creepy now, but when the mine was operating, every sound must have had an explanation."

Drills buzzing. Picks thunking. Carts rolling. Timber groaning. Blasting. Men talking.

Footsteps...

Creepy view into an underground mine tunnel

Suddenly, you hear a pick striking against a rock deep inside an adit, and think, "What the...?! That sound should absolutely not be there!"

What if it's not your imagination?

What if the miners working there decades or centuries ago were just as creeped out as you are?

Mining Has Always Been Dangerous Work

Long before modern ventilation systems, rock bolts, monitoring alarms, and the all-knowing all-powerful mine safety guru, miners went underground with hardly anything besides a lamp (or maybe even just a candle!) and a few tools. They had a pretty good understanding that the mine could kill them if they weren't constantly careful and aware of their surroundings.

Historic Skidoo Mill in Death Valley National Park

One of my favorite places to see abandoned mine sites and workings is Death Valley National Park, and this book is an awesome guide. Here is where I must insert this friendly reminder: Do not go into old mine tunnels or shafts, it's very dangerous and often illegal. Many have been gated or sealed off, and the sites are preserved for their historic significance.

But back to the miners...

It probably isn't surprising that miners in many cultures across the world developed their own, sometimes eerily similar, superstitions.

Some were based on practical traditions with a little added folklore. Others involved ghosts, mysterious creatures, omens, and strange noises coming from somewhere deep inside the mountain. Some were absolutely bizarre.

Many of the popular traditions in the United States came from older European mining cultures, particularly Cornwall, and traveled with miners to mining communities in places like California and the American West. Over time, the stories changed, but the basic idea remained the same: when you go underground, you respect the mine.

Here are some of the stranger things miners believed.

The Knockers: Spirits Who Live in the Mine

Some of the most well known Cornish mining traditions revolved around the knockers, also called buccas. These supernatural mine dwellers were believed to live underground and could be helpful, mischievous, or dangerous, depending on the story.

Knockers were sometimes credited with leading miners toward valuable veins of ore or warning them when danger was nearby. But miners were expected to treat them with a certain amount of respect.

One of the rules was simple: don't whistle underground. Historical accounts specifically record whistling as something miners believed could annoy the knockers. Singing and even swearing might be tolerated, but whistling, it seemed, was asking for trouble.

Miners also sometimes left part of their food behind for the knockers, particularly a piece of their pasty. It was essentially a peace offering. I mean, I get it... If these little supernatural miners are going to help you find ore or warn you about danger, it probably doesn't hurt to share your lunch.

The knockers were also associated with mysterious sounds underground. Miners reported hearing knocking, tapping, hammering, or digging when nobody else appeared to be working. Sometimes this was considered a sign that valuable ore was nearby. Other stories described the knocking as a warning of danger.

There may have been a very real observation behind some of these stories. Mines can make strange noises as rock shifts, timber bends under pressure, or the ground becomes unstable. Experienced miners would have learned to pay attention to unusual sounds, even if they explained those sounds as the work of supernatural beings.

When Cornish miners traveled to mining regions in North America, their folklore traveled with them. The knockers eventually became the better-known Tommyknockers, with American stories sometimes portraying them as small supernatural miners and sometimes as the spirits of miners who had died underground.

Cute Tommyknocker necklace I got from Keeweenaw Gem and Gift in Michigan

El Tío in Bolivia: A Different Underground Mining Tradition

Other parts of the world have stories and superstitions too.

In the Bolivian mining tradition, particularly around Potosí, miners make offerings to El Tío (Spanish for "the Uncle") a supernatural figure associated with the underground.

Miners made statues of El Tío to place at mine entrances, and they offer things like cocoa, cigarettes, alcohol and other stuff, because El Tío is believed to have power over what happens underground. He can help miners find wealth, but he can also cause accidents or cave-ins if he is neglected.

There's an important cultural history behind him. El Tío is generally understood as part of a blend of Indigenous Andean beliefs and Catholic imagery that developed during the colonial period.

Sulfur from Bolivia (SOLD in the Rock Shop). Do you think these miners thought about El Tío?

Mexico: Ghosts, Rocks, and the Blood of the Earth

Mexico has several interesting ghost stories. Gather around the campfire, or, uh, maybe just around your laptop, and listen up:

In the town of Real de Catorce, a figure known as El Jergas, a spirit of a deceased miner, appears wearing work clothes, a helmet, and boots; looking totally normal, like he could be a visiting mine inspector, engineer, or boss. Like the Tommyknockers and El Tío, El Jergas is both mischievous and beneficial. He lures workers who are alone deep into seldom visited areas of the mine and leaves them there; disoriented and not knowing what happened. He often steals their personal items to leave as a trail back so others will find the lost miner. When they do find the miner, they are often discovered on a rich ore vein or pocket.

Cornwall, Bolivia, and Mexico developed the legends of the Knockers, El Tío, and El Jergas separately, but they have the same general concept: There is something supernatural underground, and you should keep it happy because it controls things you can't control.

Kind of spooky, huh?

Also in Mexico, way back in 1586, Mina El Eden was opened near Zacatecas. It was an active mine up until 1960, and now offers mine tours to the public, complete with a museum. The story of Roque originates here, and is a bit different from the others we've heard so far. A miner named Roque found a gigantic chunk of pure silver deep down in the mine. Instead of reporting it to his supervisors, he hid it so he could come back and steal it after his shift. Late after work, he returned, but the beautiful silver rock was gone. In a greedy fit, Roque raged and cursed in the dark tunnels. Suddenly, a catastrophic cave-in sealed him inside, and rescue crews never found his body. However, miners later reported seeing a screaming human face wearing a mining helmet permanently etched into the stone wall of a tunnel. Locals claim that anyone who gets greedy inside the mine risks a grim fate, and that Roque's spirit still wanders the damp stone labyrinths.

Mexico's mining folklore even goes much further back. Archaeological research into pre-Hispanic mining in the area suggests that caves and even mines themselves could have been understood as a sacred space. Cinnabar, a red mineral often mined in volcanic regions, was referred to as the "blood of the Earth." Cinnabar was used in Mayan culture for art and rituals, such as a way to preserve the body of royal people, like the "The Red Queen".

Chile: Birds of Treasure and the Devil Himself

Let's visit Chile next.

Chile has a quite a bit of mining-related mythology, especially in the North, where the Atacama desert is. One interesting tale is about the alicanto. Alicanto is not a scary mine ghost. It's a legendary treasure seeking bird, said to have metallic glowing wing because it feeds on gold, silver, and copper. An alicanto can lead a lucky prospector to a rich ore deposit, as long as the alicanto doesn't notice them. If the alicanto finds out they're being followed, they might disappear into the night... or lead the person off a cliff.

There are also tales of Cola de Flecha, or "arrow tail", a name used to speak about the devil without directly saying the name. In El Chiflón del Diablo (The Devil's Blast), a mine which operated from the mid 1800s until 1970, tunnels extend far under the Pacific Ocean. Blasts of howling wind toxic and gasses like methane which give the mine its name were said to come form Cola de Flecha himself. Many workers over the years also reported smelling sulfur then seeing a beast or a man with hooves and glowing eyes in the depths of the mine.

Baldomero Lillo's book Sub Terra: Life and Death in the Chilean Mines (written in 1904) is an interesting look into the rough lives of miners in Chile at the time, including the story of Juan Fariña, a blind miner who made a deal with the devil.

Turkey: Shapeshifting and a Magical Stone

Turkish mining folklore includes a supernatural "owner of the mine"named Ergene iyesi. The word "iye" actually translates to "spiritual owner" or "master".

Ergene iyesi is a shapeshifter who appears as a dog, cat, or other small creature, or can be unseen but heard meowing or whistling. Another figure that is both a protector and disciplinarian, Ergene iyesi warns miners of danger as well as punishes them for anger, misbehavior, and disrespect in the mine. The idea that the mine has a supernatural "owner," is fitting, because the underground is perceived as a space that does not exactly belong to humans.

It's fascinating, because this too sounds very similar to the Cornish knocker superstition, Bolivia's El Tío, and others, where the supernatural being in the mine is both helpful and harmful, even though this tradition developed in yet another different cultural setting.

In Turkey, as in many places, minerals and stones have held deep supernatural, ritualistic, and protective significance for a very long time. One mystery that archaeologists and geologists are still trying to solve is that of the Green Stone. A temple in the Hittite capital of Hattusa (near modern Boğazkale) from the Bronze Age contains a huge cube of nephrite jade that weighs almost 2200 lbs and measures about 27 inches per side. This is much larger than the size jade is usually found in nature. No one is really sure what purpose it served to the Hittites in their temple, but today locals and tourists view it as a "wishing stone" that will bring good luck, good fortune, and other granted wishes to those who touch it.

Pakistan: Protection from Danger

Mining in Pakistan, especially in Balochistan, is a notoriously dangerous job where miners work in dark, narrow tunnels surrounded by coal dust, with risks of explosions, poisonous gases, and collapsing rocks. Many miners come from poor families and risk their lives to support their loved ones.

Some miners look out for jinn, supernatural beings in Islamic belief that are thought to inhabit remote, dark or isolated places. Stories suggest that jinn may frighten or mislead miners, making underground tunnels feel even more threatening. Many workers recite verses from the Quran or pray for protection from unseen forces and accidents. Some carry evil eye talismans to protect against Nazar.

One interesting superstition involves personal hygiene and scent. Some mine managers ban bringing or wearing perfume underground. A person wearing strong perfume or someone with a fresh haircut or shave is said to be more likely to be targeted by mischievous jinn. In reality, many types of perfume are hazardous, because they make it harder to detect toxic gasses and may also interact with those same gasses.

Why Do So Many Mining Cultures Have Spirits Underground?

It’s tempting to sit in our comfortable, modern homes, surrounded by all of our conveniences, and laugh at these beliefs. But imagine spending your workday hundreds of feet underground, in a place where falling rocks, explosions, flooding, toxic air, equipment failures or mishaps, and complete cave-ins could strike without warning. Add the darkness, the strange noises, the long hours, and the isolation. Suddenly, the idea that a mine might have supernatural inhabitants doesn’t seem so strange.

Mining folklore grew out of a world where people spent their days literally inside the Earth, surrounded by dangers they couldn’t always see, hear, or explain. Of course, a mysterious knock might have been shifting rock. An unexplained noise could have been timber groaning under pressure or a miner working in an adjacent drift. What seemed supernatural might have had a perfectly natural explanation, even if no one could identify it at the time.

Today, geology helps us understand the rock structures and the mineral deposits better, but it still can’t always tell us what caused a strange sound echoing through the darkness.

And that’s part of why these stories have never quite lost their charm, even though some are pretty old.

Perhaps the underlying message of many of these tales and beliefs is a simple one: Be a good person... and respect the mine.

Wherever you are today, if you’re standing at the entrance of an abandoned mine and hear quiet knocks coming from somewhere in the darkness, knowing a little geology doesn’t make the sound any less creepy.