Myths of the Cherokee / Extract from the Nineteenth Annual Report of the Bureau of American Ethnology

by James Mooney

Miscellaneous Myths and Legends

112. THE IGNORANT HOUSEKEEPER

An old man whose wife had died lived alone with his son. One day he said to the young man, “We need a cook here, so you would better get married.” So the young man got a wife and brought her home. Then his father said, “Now we must work together and do all we can to help her. You go hunting and bring in the meat and I’ll look after the corn and beans, and then she can cook.” The young man went into the woods to look for a deer and his father went out into the field to attend to the corn. When they came home at night they were hungry, and the young woman set out a bowl of walnut hominy (kanâ′talu′hĭ) before them. It looked queer, somehow, and when the old man examined it he found that the walnuts had been put in whole. “Why didn’t you shell the walnuts and then beat up the kernels,” said he to the young woman. “I didn’t know they had to be shelled,” she replied. Then the old man said, “You think about marrying and you don’t know how to cook,” and he sent her away.

113. THE MAN IN THE STUMP

A man who had a field of growing corn went out one day to see how it was ripening and climbed a tall stump to get a better view. The stump was hollow and a bear had a nest of cubs in the bottom. The man slipped and fell down upon the cubs, which set up such a squealing that the old she-bear heard them and came climbing down into the stump tail first, in bear fashion, to see what was the matter. The man caught hold of her by the hind legs and the old bear was so frightened that she at once climbed out again, dragging the man, who thus got out of the stump, when the bear ran away.

114. TWO LAZY HUNTERS

A party of warriors once started out for a long hunting trip in the mountains. They went on until they came to a good game region, when they set up their bark hut in a convenient place near the river side. Every morning after breakfast they scattered out, each man for himself, to be gone all day, until they returned at night with whatever game they had taken. There was one lazy fellow who went out alone every morning like the others, but only until he found a sunny slope, when he would stretch out by the side of a rock to sleep until evening, returning then to camp empty-handed, but with his moccasins torn and a long story of how he had tramped all day and found nothing. This went on until one of the others began to suspect that something was wrong, and made it his business to find it out. The next morning he followed him secretly through the woods until he saw him come out into a sunny opening, where he sat down upon a large rock, took off his moccasins, and began rubbing them against the rocks until he had worn holes in them. Then the lazy fellow loosened his belt, lay down beside the rock, and went to sleep. The spy set fire to the dry leaves and watched until the flame crept close up to the sleeping man, who never opened his eyes.

The spy went back to camp and told what he had seen. About supper time the lazy fellow came in with the same old story of a long day’s hunt and no game started. When he had finished the others all laughed and called him a sleepyhead. He insisted that he had been climbing the ridges all day, and put out his moccasins to show how worn they were, not knowing that they were scorched from the fire, as he had slept on until sundown. When they saw the blackened moccasins they laughed again, and he was too much astonished to say a word in his defense; so the captain said that such a liar was not fit to stay with them, and he was driven from the camp.

---

There was another lazy fellow who courted a pretty girl, but she would have nothing to do with him, telling him that her husband must be a good hunter or she would remain single all her life. One morning he went into the woods, and by a lucky accident managed to kill a deer. Lifting it upon his back, he carried it into the settlement, passing right by the door of the house where the girl and her mother lived. As soon as he was out of sight of the house he went by a roundabout course into the woods again and waited until evening, when he appeared with the deer on his shoulder and came down the trail past the girl’s house as he had in the morning. He did this the next day, and the next, until the girl began to think he must be killing all the deer in the woods. So her mother—the old women are usually the matchmakers—got ready and went to the young man’s mother to talk it over.

When she arrived and the greetings were done she said, “Your son must be a good hunter.” “No,” replied the old woman, “he seldom kills anything.” “But he has been killing a great many deer lately.” “I haven’t seen any,” said his mother. “Why, he has been carrying deer past our house twice a day for the last three days.” “I don’t know what he did with them,” said the young man’s mother; “he never brought them here.” Then the girl’s mother was sure there was something wrong, so she went home and told her husband, who followed up the young man’s trail into the woods until it brought him to where the body of the deer was hidden, now so far decayed that it had to be thrown away.

115. THE TWO OLD MEN

Two old men went hunting. One had an eye drawn down and was called Uk-kwûnăgi′ta, “Eye-drawn-down.” The other had an arm twisted out of shape and was called Uk-ku′sûñtsûtĭ, “Bent-bow-shape.” They killed a deer and cooked the meat in a pot. The second old man dipped a piece of bread into the soup and smacked his lips as he ate it. “Is it good?” said the first old man. Said the other, “Hayû′! uk-kwûnăgi′stĭ—Yes, sir! It will draw down one’s eye.”

Thought the first old man to himself, “He means me.” So he dipped a piece of bread into the pot, and smacked his lips as he tasted it. “Do you find it good?” said the other old man. Said his comrade, “Hayû′! uk-ku′sûñtsûtĕtĭ′—Yes, sir! It will twist up one’s arm.” Thought the second old man, “He means me”; so he got very angry and struck the first old man, and then they fought until each killed the other.

116. THE STAR FEATHERS

A long time ago a warrior of roving disposition went down into the white settlements toward the east, where for the first time he saw a peacock. The beautiful long feathers surprised and delighted him, and by trading some valuable Indian possession of his own he managed to buy a few of them, which he took with him to the mountains and hid, until he was ready to use them, in an old beaver lodge under the river bank. To get into the beaver lodge he had to dive under the water.

Then he set to work secretly and made himself a headdress, with the long peacock feathers in the front and trailing out behind and the shorter ones at the sides. At the next dance he wore the new headdress, and asserted that he had been up to the sky and that these were star feathers (see [number 9], “What the stars are like”). He made a long speech also, which he pretended was a message he had received from the star spirits to deliver to the people.

Everyone wondered at the beautiful feathers, so different from any they had ever seen before. They made no doubt that he had been up to the sky and talked with spirits. He became a great prophet, and used to keep himself hidden all day in the beaver hole, and whenever there was a night gathering for a dance or a council he would suddenly appear among them wearing his feather headdress and give the people a new message from the sky. Then he would leave them again, pretending that he went up to heaven.

He grew famous and powerful among all the medicine men, until at last it happened that another Cherokee went down among the white settlements and saw there another peacock, and knew at once that the prophet was a fraud. On his return he quietly told some of his friends, and they decided to investigate. When the next night dance came around the prophet was on hand as usual with a new message fresh from the stars. The people listened reverently, and promised to do all that he commanded. Then he left them, saying that he must return at once to the sky, but as he went out from the circle the spies followed him in the darkness, and saw him go down to the river and dive under the water. They waited, but he did not come up again, and they went back and told the people. The next morning a party went to the spot and discovered the beaver lodge under the bank. One man dived and came up inside, and there he found the prophet sitting with the peacock feathers by his side.

117. THE MOTHER BEAR’S SONG

A hunter in the woods one day heard singing in a cave. He came near and peeped in, and it was a mother bear singing to her cubs and telling them what to do when the hunters came after them.

Said the mother bear to the cubs, “When you hear the hunters coming down the creek, then—

Tsâ′gĭ, tsâ′gĭ, hwĭ′lahĭ′;

Tsâ′gĭ, tsâ′gĭ, hwĭ′lahĭ′.

Upstream, upstream, you (must) go;

Upstream, upstream, you (must) go.

“But if you hear them coming up the creek, children, then—

Ge′ĭ, ge′ĭ, hwĭ′lahĭ′;

Ge′ĭ, ge′ĭ, hwĭ′lahĭ′.

Downstream, downstream, you (must) go;

Downstream, downstream, you (must) go.”

---

Another hunter out in the woods one day thought he heard a woman singing to a baby. He followed the sound up to the head of the branch until he came to a cave under the bushes, and inside was a mother bear rocking her cub in her paws and singing to it this baby song, which the Ani′-Tsâ′gûhĭ used to know before they were turned into bears:

Ha′-mama′, ha′-mama′, ha′-mama′, ha′-mama′;

Udâ′hale′yĭ hi′lûñnû, hi′lûñnû;

Udâ′hale′yĭ hi′lûñnû, hi′lûñnû.

Let me carry you on my back (four times);

On the sunny side go to sleep, go to sleep;

On the sunny side go to sleep, go to sleep.

118. BABY SONG, TO PLEASE THE CHILDREN

Ha′wiye′-hyuwe′, Ha′wiye′-hyuwe′,

Yu′wĕ-yuwĕhe′, Ha′wiyĕhyu′-uwe′—

Yâ′nû une′guhi′ tsana′sehâ′;

Eʼtĭ une′guhi′ tsana′sehâ′;

Yâ′nû nudûñnelû′ tsa′nadiskâ′.

Ha′wiye′-hyuwe′, Ha′wiye′-hyuwe′,

Yu′wĕ-yuwĕhe′, Ha′wiyĕhyu′-uwe′—

The Bear is very bad, so they say;

Long time ago he was very bad, so they say;

The Bear did so and so, they say.

119. WHEN BABIES ARE BORN: THE WREN AND THE CRICKET

The little Wren is the messenger of the birds, and pries into everything. She gets up early in the morning and goes round to every house in the settlement to get news for the bird council. When a new baby is born she finds out whether it is a boy or girl and reports to the council. If it is a boy the birds sing in mournful chorus: “Alas! the whistle of the arrow! my shins will burn,” because the birds know that when the boy grows older he will hunt them with his blowgun and arrows and roast them on a stick.

But if the baby is a girl, they are glad and sing: “Thanks! the sound of the pestle! At her home I shall surely be able to scratch where she sweeps,” because they know that after a while they will be able to pick up stray grains where she beats the corn into meal.

When the Cricket hears that a girl is born, it also is glad, and says, “Thanks, I shall sing in the house where she lives.” But if it is a boy the Cricket laments: “Gwe-he! He will shoot me! He will shoot me! He will shoot me!” because boys make little bows to shoot crickets and grasshoppers.

When inquiring as to the sex of the new arrival the Cherokee asks, “Is it a bow or a (meal) sifter?” or, “Is it ballsticks or bread?”

120. THE RAVEN MOCKER

Of all the Cherokee wizards or witches the most dreaded is the Raven Mocker (Kâ′lanû Ahyeli′skĭ), the one that robs the dying man of life. They are of either sex and there is no sure way to know one, though they usually look withered and old, because they have added so many lives to their own.

At night, when some one is sick or dying in the settlement, the Raven Mocker goes to the place to take the life. He flies through the air in fiery shape, with arms outstretched like wings, and sparks trailing behind, and a rushing sound like the noise of a strong wind. Every little while as he flies he makes a cry like the cry of a raven when it “dives” in the air—not like the common raven cry—and those who hear are afraid, because they know that some man’s life will soon go out. When the Raven Mocker comes to the house he finds others of his kind waiting there, and unless there is a doctor on guard who knows how to drive them away they go inside, all invisible, and frighten and torment the sick man until they kill him. Sometimes to do this they even lift him from the bed and throw him on the floor, but his friends who are with him think he is only struggling for breath.

After the witches kill him they take out his heart and eat it, and so add to their own lives as many days or years as they have taken from his. No one in the room can see them, and there is no scar where they take out the heart, but yet there is no heart left in the body. Only one who has the right medicine can recognize a Raven Mocker, and if such a man stays in the room with the sick person these witches are afraid to come in, and retreat as soon as they see him, because when one of them is recognized in his right shape he must die within seven days. There was once a man named Gûñskăli′skĭ, who had this medicine and used to hunt for Raven Mockers, and killed several. When the friends of a dying person know that there is no more hope they always try to have one of these medicine men stay in the house and watch the body until it is buried, because after burial the witches do not steal the heart.

The other witches are jealous of the Raven Mockers and afraid to come into the same house with one. Once a man who had the witch medicine was watching by a sick man and saw these other witches outside trying to get in. All at once they heard a Raven Mocker cry overhead and the others scattered “like a flock of pigeons when the hawk swoops.” When at last a Raven Mocker dies these other witches sometimes take revenge by digging up the body and abusing it.

The following is told on the reservation as an actual happening:

A young man had been out on a hunting trip and was on his way home when night came on while he was still a long distance from the settlement. He knew of a house not far off the trail where an old man and his wife lived, so he turned in that direction to look for a place to sleep until morning. When he got to the house there was nobody in it. He looked into the âsĭ and found no one there either. He thought maybe they had gone after water, and so stretched himself out in the farther corner to sleep. Very soon he heard a raven cry outside, and in a little while afterwards the old man came into the âsĭ and sat down by the fire without noticing the young man, who kept still in the dark corner. Soon there was another raven cry outside, and the old man said to himself, “Now my wife is coming,” and sure enough in a little while the old woman came in and sat down by her husband. Then the young man knew they were Raven Mockers and he was frightened and kept very quiet.

Said the old man to his wife, “Well, what luck did you have?” “None,” said the old woman, “there were too many doctors watching. What luck did you have?” “I got what I went for,” said the old man, “there is no reason to fail, but you never have luck. Take this and cook it and let’s have something to eat.” She fixed the fire and then the young man smelled meat roasting and thought it smelled sweeter than any meat he had ever tasted. He peeped out from one eye, and it looked like a man’s heart roasting on a stick.

Suddenly the old woman said to her husband, “Who is over in the corner?” “Nobody,” said the old man. “Yes, there is,” said the old woman, “I hear him snoring,” and she stirred the fire until it blazed and lighted up the whole place, and there was the young man lying in the corner. He kept quiet and pretended to be asleep. The old man made a noise at the fire to wake him, but still he pretended to sleep. Then the old man came over and shook him, and he sat up and rubbed his eyes as if he had been asleep all the time.

Now it was near daylight and the old woman was out in the other house getting breakfast ready, but the hunter could hear her crying to herself. “Why is your wife crying?” he asked the old man. “Oh, she has lost some of her friends lately and feels lonesome,” said her husband; but the young man knew that she was crying because he had heard them talking.

When they came out to breakfast the old man put a bowl of corn mush before him and said, “This is all we have—we have had no meat for a long time.” After breakfast the young man started on again, but when he had gone a little way the old man ran after him with a fine piece of beadwork and gave it to him, saying, “Take this, and don’t tell anybody what you heard last night, because my wife and I are always quarreling that way.” The young man took the piece, but when he came to the first creek he threw it into the water and then went on to the settlement. There he told the whole story, and a party of warriors started back with him to kill the Raven Mockers. When they reached the place it was seven days after the first night. They found the old man and his wife lying dead in the house, so they set fire to it and burned it and the witches together.

121. HERBERT’S SPRING

“From the head of the southern branch of Savannah river it does not exceed half a mile to a head spring of the Missisippi water that runs through the middle and upper parts of the Cheerake nation about a northwest course, and, joining other rivers, they empty themselves into the great Missisippi. The above fountain is called ‘Herbert’s spring,’ so named from an early commissioner of Indian affairs, and it was natural for strangers to drink thereof, to quench thirst, gratify their curiosity, and have it to say they had drank of the French waters. Some of our people, who went only with the view of staying a short time, but by some allurement or other exceeded the time appointed, at their return reported, either through merriment or superstition, that the spring had such a natural bewitching quality that whosoever drank of it could not possibly quit the nation during the tedious space of seven years. All the debauchees readily fell in with this superstitious notion as an excuse for their bad method of living, when they had no proper call to stay in that country; and in process of time it became as received a truth as any ever believed to have been spoken by the Delphic oracle. One cursed, because its enchantment had marred his good fortune; another condemned his weakness for drinking down witchcraft, against his own secret suspicions; one swore he would never taste another such dangerous poison, even though he should be forced to go down to the Missisippi for water; and another comforted himself that so many years out of the seven were already passed, and wished that if ever he tasted it again, though under the greatest necessity, he might be confined to the Stygian waters. Those who had their minds more enlarged diverted themselves much at their cost, for it was a noted favorite place, on account of the name it went by; and, being a well situated and good spring, there all travelers commonly drank a bottle of choice. But now most of the pack-horse men, though they be dry, and also matchless sons of Bacchus, on the most pressing invitations to drink there, would swear to forfeit sacred liquor the better part of their lives rather than basely renew or confirm the loss of their liberty, which that execrable fountain occasions.”—Adair, American Indians, p. 231, 1775.

122. LOCAL LEGENDS OF NORTH CAROLINA

Owing chiefly to the fact that the Cherokee still occupy western North Carolina, the existing local legends for that section are more numerous than for all the rest of their ancient territory. For the more important legends see the stories: Agân-unitsi’s Search for the Uktena, Atagâ′hĭ, Hemp-carrier, Herbert’s Spring, Kăna′sta, The Great Leech of Tlanusi′yĭ, The Great Yellow-jacket, The Nûñnĕ′hĭ, The Raid on Tĭkwali′tsĭ, The Removed Townhouses, The Spirit Defenders of Nĭkwăsĭ′, The Uwʼtsûñ′ta, Tsulʻkălû′, Tsuwe′năhĭ, The Uʻtlûñ′ta.

Akwĕʻti′yĭ: A spot on Tuckasegee river, in Jackson county, between Dick’s creek and the upper end of Cowee tunnel. According to tradition there was a dangerous water monster in the river there. The meaning of the name is lost.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY NINETEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XIX

PHOTOGRAPH BY AUTHOR, 1888

ON ONONALUFTEE RIVER

Atsi′la-wa′ĭ: “Fire’s relative,” a peak, sometimes spoken of as Rattlesnake knob, east of Oconaluftee river and about 2 miles northeast of Cherokee or Yellow Hill, in Swain county. So called from a tradition that a ball of fire was once seen to fly through the air from the direction of Highlands, in Macon county, and alight upon this mountain. The Indians believe it to have been an ulûñsûtĭ (see [number 50]), which its owner had kept in a hiding place upon the summit, from which, after his death, it issued nightly to search for him.

Black rock: A very high bald peak toward the head of Scott’s creek, northeast of Webster, on the line of Jackson and Haywood counties. Either this peak or the adjacent Jones knob, of equal height, is known to the Cherokee as Ûñ′wădâ-tsuʻgilasûñ′, “Where the storehouse was taken off,” from a large flat rock, supported by four other rocks, so as to resemble a storehouse (ûñwădâ′lĭ) raised on poles, which was formerly in prominent view upon the summit until thrown down by lightning some fifty years ago.

Buffalo creek, West: A tributary of Cheowa river, in Graham county. The Cherokee name is Yûnsâi′ĭ, “Buffalo place,” from a tradition that a buffalo formerly lived under the water at its mouth (see Tsuta′tsinasûñ′yĭ).

Cheowa Maximum: A bald mountain at the head of Cheowa river, on the line between Graham and Macon counties. This and the adjoining peak, Swim bald, are together called Sehwate′yĭ, “Hornet place,” from a monster hornet, which, according to tradition, formerly had its nest there, and could be seen flying about the tree tops or sunning itself on the bald spots, and which was so fierce that it drove away every one who came near the mountain. It finally disappeared.

Dăkwâ′ĭ: “Dăkwă′ place,” in French Broad river, about 6 miles above Warm Springs, in Madison county, and 30 miles below Asheville. A dăkwă′ or monster fish is said to have lived in the stream at that point.

Da′ʻnawa-(a) Sa′ʻtsûñyĭ: “War crossing,” a ford in Cheowa river about 3 miles below Robbinsville, in Graham county. A hostile war party from the North, probably Shawano or Iroquois, after having killed a man on Cheowa, was pursued and crossed the river at this place.

Datle′yăsta′ĭ: “Where they fell down,” on Tuckasegee river, at the bend above Webster, in Jackson county, where was formerly the old town of Gănsâ′gĭ (Conasauga). Two large uktenas, twined about each other as though in combat, were once seen to lift themselves from a deep hole in the river there and fall back into the water.

Dâtsi′yĭ: “Dâtsĭ place,” just above Eagle creek, on Little Tennessee river, between Graham and Swain counties. So called from a traditional water monster of that name, said to have lived in a deep hole in the stream.

Degalʻgûñ′yĭ: “Where they are piled up,” a series of cairns on both sides of the trail down the south side of Cheowa river, in Graham county. They extend along the trail for several miles, from below Santeetla creek nearly to Slick Rock creek, on the Tennessee line (the first being just above Disgâ′gisti′yĭ, q. v.), and probably mark the site of an ancient battle. One at least, nearly off Yellow creek, is reputed to be the grave of a Cherokee killed by the enemy. Every passing Indian throws an additional stone upon each heap, believing that some misfortune will befall him should he neglect this duty. Other cairns are on the west side of Slick Rock creek about a mile from Little Tennessee river, and others south of Robbinsville, near where the trail crosses the ridge to Valleytown, in Cherokee county.

Dida′skasti′yĭ: “Where they were afraid of each other,” a spot on the east side of Little Tennessee river, near the mouth of Alarka creek, in Swain county. A ball game once arranged to take place there, before the Removal, between rival teams from Qualla and Valleytown, was abandoned on account of the mutual fear of the two parties.

Disgâ′gisti′yĭ: “Where they gnaw,” a spot where the trail down the south side of Cheowa river crosses a small branch about half way between Cockram creek and Yellow creek, in Graham county. Indians passing gnaw the twigs from the laurel bushes here, in the belief that if they should fail to do so they will encounter some misfortune before crossing the next ridge. Near by is a cairn to which each also adds a stone (see Degalʻgûñ′yĭ).

Duduñ′lĕksûñ′yĭ: “Where its legs were broken off,” a spot on the east side of Tuckasegee river, opposite the mouth of Cullowhee river, a few miles above Webster, in Jackson county. The name suggests a tradition, which appears to be lost.

Dulastûñ′yĭ: “Potsherd place,” a former settlement on Nottely river, in Cherokee county, near the Georgia line. A half-breed Cherokee ball captain who formerly lived there, John Butler or Tsan-uga′sĭtă (Sour John), having been defeated in a ball game, said, in contempt of his men, that they were of no more use than broken pots.

Dunidû′lalûñyĭ: “Where they made arrows,” on Straight creek, a head-stream of Oconaluftee river, near Cataluchee peak, in Swain county. A Shawano war party coming against the Cherokee, after having crossed the Smoky mountains, halted there to prepare arrows.

French Broad river: A magazine writer states that the Indians called this stream “the racing river.” This is only partially correct. The Cherokee have no name for the river as a whole, but the district through which it flows about Asheville is called by them Un-ta′kiyasti′yĭ, “Where they race.” The name of the city they translate as Kâsdu′yĭ, “Ashes place.”

Gakati′yĭ: “Place of setting free,” a south bend in Tuckasegee river about 3 miles above Bryson City, in Swain county. It is sometimes put in the plural form, Diga′katiyĭ, “Place of setting them free.” In one of their old wars the Cherokee generously released some prisoners there.

Gatuti′yĭ: “Town-building place,” near the head of Santeetla creek, southwest from Robbinsville, in Graham county. High up on the slopes of the neighboring mountain, Stratton bald, is a wide “bench,” where the people once started to build a settlement, but were frightened off by a strange noise, which they thought was made by an uktena.

Giʻlĭ′-Dinĕhûñ′yĭ: “Where the dogs live,” a deep place in Oconaluftee river, Swain county, a short distance above Yellow Hill (Cherokee) and just below the mound. It is so named from a tradition that two “red dogs” were once seen there playing on the bank. They were supposed to live under the water.

Gisehûñ′yĭ: “Where the Female lives,” on Tuckasegee river, about 2 miles above Bryson City, Swain county. There is a tradition that some supernatural “white people” were seen there washing clothes in the river and hanging them out upon the bank to dry. They were probably supposed to be the family of the Agis′-e′gwa, or “Great Female,” a spirit invoked by the conjurers.

Gregory bald: A high peak of the Great Smoky mountains on the western border of Swain county, adjoining Tennessee. The Cherokee call it Tsistu′yĭ, “Rabbit place.” Here the rabbits had their townhouse and here lived their chief, the Great Rabbit, and in the old times the people could see him. He was as large as a deer, and all the little rabbits were subject to him.

Joanna bald: A bald mountain near the head of Valley river, on the line between Graham and Cherokee counties. Called Diyâ′hăli′yĭ, “Lizard place,” from a traditional great lizard, with glistening throat, which used to haunt the place and was frequently seen sunning itself on the rocky slopes.

Jutaculla old fields: A bald spot of perhaps a hundred acres on the slope of Tennessee bald (Tsulʻkălû′ Tsunegûñ′yĭ), at the extreme head of Tuckasegee river, in Jackson county, on the ridge from which the lines of Haywood, Jackson, and Transylvania counties diverge. The giant Tsulʻkălû′, or Jutaculla, as the name is corrupted by the whites, had his residence in the mountain (see story), and according to local legend among the whites, said to be derived from the Indians, this bald spot was a clearing which he made for a farm. Some distance farther to the west, on the north bank of Cany fork, about 1 mile above Moses creek and perhaps 10 miles above Webster, in the same county, is the Jutaculla rock, a large soapstone slab covered with rude carvings, which, according to the same tradition, are scratches made by the giant in jumping from his farm on the mountain to the creek below.

Jutaculla rock: See Jutaculla old fields.

Kâl-Detsi′yûñyĭ: “Where the bones are,” a ravine on the north side of Cheowa river, just above the mouth of East Buffalo creek, in Graham county. In the old time two Cherokee were killed here by the enemy, and their fate was unknown until, long afterward, their friends found their bones scattered about in the ravine.

Nantahala: A river and ridge of very steep mountains in Macon county, the name being a corruption of Nûñ′dăye′ʻlĭ, applied to a former settlement about the mouth of Briertown creek, the townhouse being on the west side of the river, about the present Jarretts. The word means “middle sun,” i. e., “midday sun,” from nûñdă′, “sun,” and aye′ʻlĭ, “middle,” and refers to the fact that in places along the stream the high cliffs shut out the direct light of the sun until nearly noon. From a false idea that it is derived from unûñtĭ, “milk,” it has been fancifully rendered, “Center of a woman’s breast,” “Maiden’s bosom,” etc. The valley was the legendary haunt of the Uwʼtsûñ′ta (see [number 45]). As illustrating the steepness of the cliffs along the stream it was said of a noted hunter, Tsasta′wĭ, who lived in the old town, that he used to stand on the top of the bluff overlooking the settlement and throw down upon the roof of his house the liver of the freshly killed deer, so that his wife would have it cooked and waiting for him by the time he got down the mountain.

Nugătsa′nĭ: A ridge below Yellow Hill (Cherokee), on Oconaluftee river, in Swain county, said to be a resort of the Nûñnĕ′hĭ fairies. The word is an archaic form denoting a high ridge with a long, gradual slope.

Qualla: A post-office and former trading station in Jackson county, on the border of the present East Cherokee reservation, hence sometimes called the Qualla reservation. The Cherokee form is Kwalĭ, or Kwalûñyĭ in the locative. According to Captain Terrell, the former trader at that place, it was named from Kwalĭ, i. e., Polly, an old Indian woman who lived there some sixty years ago.

Săligu′gĭ: “Turtle place,” a deep hole in Oconaluftee river, about half a mile below Adams creek, near Whittier, in Swain county, said to be the resort of a monster turtle.

Skwan′-digûʻgûñ′yĭ: For Askwan′-digûʻgûñ′yĭ, “Where the Spaniard is in the water,” on Soco creek, just above the entrance of Wright’s creek, in Jackson county. According to tradition a party of Spaniards advancing into the mountains was attacked here by the Cherokee, who threw one of them (dead?) into the stream.

Soco gap: Ăhălu′na, Ă′hălunûñ′yĭ, or Uni′hălu′na, “Ambush,” or “Where they ambushed”; at the head of Soco creek, on the line between Swain and Haywood counties. The trail from Pigeon river crosses this gap, and in the old times the Cherokee were accustomed to keep a lookout here for the approach of enemies from the north. On the occasion which gave it the name, they ambushed here, just below the gap, on the Haywood side, a large party of invading Shawano, and killed all but one, whose ears they cut off, after which, according to a common custom, they released him to carry the news back to his people.

Standing Indian: A high bald peak at the extreme head of Nantahala river, in Macon county. The name is a rendering of the Cherokee name, Yûñ′wĭ-tsulenûñ′yĭ, “Where the man stood” (originally Yû′ñwĭ-dĭkatâgûñ′yĭ, “Where the man stands”), given to it on account of a peculiarly shaped rock formerly jutting out from the bald summit, but now broken off. As the old memory faded, a tradition grew up of a mysterious being once seen standing upon the mountain top.

Stekoa: A spot on Tuckasegee river, just above Whittier, in Swain county, better known as the Thomas farm, from its being the former residence of Colonel W. H. Thomas, for a long time the agent of the East Cherokee. The correct form is Stikâ′yĭ, the name of an ancient settlement at the place, as also of another on a creek of the same name in Rabun county, Georgia. The word has been incorrectly rendered “little grease,” from usdi′ga or usdi′, “little,” and ka′ĭ, “grease” or “oil,” but the true meaning is lost.

Swannanoa: A river joining the French Broad at Asheville, and the gap in the Blue ridge at its head. A magazine writer has translated this name “the beautiful.” The word, however, is a corruption of Suwa′li-nûñnâ′(-hĭ), “Suwali trail,” the Cherokee name, not of the stream, but of the trail crossing the gap toward the country of the Ani′-Suwa′lĭ or Cheraw (see [number 104], “The Eastern Tribes”).

Swim bald or Wolf Creek bald. See Cheowa Maximum.

Tsi′skwunsdi′-adsisti′yĭ: “Where they killed Little-bird,” a place near the head of West Buffalo creek, southwest of Robbinsville, in Graham county. A trail crosses the ridge near this place, which takes its name from a man who was killed here by a hostile war party in the old fighting days.

Tsu′dinûñti′yĭ: “Throwing down place,” the site of a former settlement in a bend on the west side of Nantahala river, just within the limits of Macon county. So called from a tradition that a Cherokee pursued by the enemy threw away his equipment there.

Tsukilûñnûñ′yĭ: “Where he alighted,” two small bald spots on the side of the mountain at the head of Little Snowbird creek, southwest of Robbinsville, in Graham county. A mysterious being, having the form of a giant, with head blazing like the sun, was once seen to fly through the air, alight at this place, and stand for some time looking out over the landscape. It then flew away, and when the people came afterward to look, they found the herbage burned from the ground where it had stood. They do not know who it was, but some think it may have been the Sun.

Tsulâ′sinûñ′yĭ: “Where the footprint is,” on Tuckasegee river, about a mile above Deep creek, in Swain county. From a rock now blasted out to make way for the railroad, on which were impressions said to have been the footprints of the giant Tsulʻkălû′ (see [story]) and a deer.

Tsundaʻnilti′yĭ: “Where they demanded the debt from him,” a fine camping ground, on the north side of Little Santeetla creek, about halfway up, west from Robbinsville, Graham county. Here a hunter once killed a deer, which the others of the party demanded in payment of a debt due them. The Cherokee commonly give the creek the same name.

Tsûta′ga Uweyûñ′ĭ: “Chicken creek,” an extreme eastern head-stream of Nantahala river, entering about 4 miles above Clear branch, in Macon county. So called from a story that some hunters camping there for the night once heard a noise as of chickens constantly crowing upon a high rock farther up the stream.

Tsuta′tsinâsûñ′yĭ: “Where it eddies,” a deep hole at the mouth of Cockram creek of Cheowa river, in Graham county, where is an eddy said to be caused by a buffalo which lives under the water at this spot, and which anciently lived at the mouth of West Buffalo creek, farther up the river.

Tusquittee bald: A bald mountain at the head of Tusquittee creek, eastward from Hayesville, in Clay county. The Cherokee name is Tsuwă′-uniyetsûñ′yĭ, “Where, the water-dogs laughed,” the water-dog of the southern Alleghenies, sometimes also called mud-puppy or hell-bender, being a large amphibious lizard or salamander of the genus Menopoma, frequenting muddy waters. According to the story, a hunter once crossing over the mountain in a very dry season, heard voices, and creeping silently toward the place from which the sound proceeded, peeped over a rock and saw two water-dogs walking together on their hind legs along the trail and talking as they went. Their pond had dried up and they were on the way over to Nantahala river. As he listened one said to the other, “Where’s the water? I’m so thirsty that my apron (gills) hangs down,” and then both water-dogs laughed.

Ukte′na-tsuganûñ′tatsûñ′yĭ: “Where the uktena fastened,” a spot on Tuckasegee river, about 2 miles above Deep creek, near Bryson City, in Swain county. There is a tradition that an uktena, trying to make his way upstream, became fastened here, and in his struggles pried up some large rocks now lying in the bed of the river, and left deep scratches upon other rocks along the bank.

Ukte′na-utansi′nastûñ′yĭ: “Where the uktena crawled,” a large rock on the Hyatt farm, on the north bank of Tuckasegee river, about four miles above Bryson City, in Swain county. In the rock bed of the stream and along the rocks on the side are wavy depressions said to have been made by an uktena in going up the river.

Untlasgâsti′yĭ: “Where they scratched,” at the head of Hyatt creek, of Valley river, in Cherokee county. According to hunting tradition, every animal on arriving at this spot was accustomed to scratch the ground like a turkey.

Vengeance creek: A south tributary of Valley river, in Cherokee county. So called by the first settlers from an old Indian woman who lived there and whom they nicknamed “Vengeance,” on account of her cross looks. The Cherokee call the district Gănsaʻti′yĭ, “Robbing place,” from their having robbed a trader there in the Revolution.

Waya gap: A gap in the Nantahala mountains, in Macon county, where the trail crosses from Laurel creek of Nantahala river to Cartoogaja creek of the Little Tennessee. The Cherokee call it Aʻtâhi′ta, “Shouting place.” For the tradition see [number 13]. It was the scene of a stubborn encounter in the Revolution (see page [49]). The name Waya appears to be from the Cherokee wă′ʻya, “wolf.”

Webster: The county seat of Jackson county, on Tuckasegee river. Known to the Cherokee as Unadanti′yĭ, “Where they conjured.” The name properly belongs to a gap 3 miles east of Webster, on the trail going up Scotts creek. According to tradition, a war party of Shawano, coming from the direction of Pigeon river, halted here to “make medicine” against the Cherokee, but while thus engaged were surprised by the latter, who came up from behind and killed several, including the conjurer.

Yâ′nû-dinĕhûñ′yĭ: “Where the bears live,” on Oconaluftee river, about a mile above its junction with Tuckasegee, in Swain county. A family of “water bears” is said to live at the bottom of the river in a deep hole at this point.

Yâ′nû-u′nătawasti′yĭ: “Where the bears wash,” a small pond of very cold, purple water, which has no outlet and is now nearly dried up, in a gap of the Great Smoky mountains, at the extreme head of Raven fork of Oconaluftee, in Swain county. It was said to be a favorite bear wallow, and according to some accounts its waters had the same virtues ascribed to those of Atagâ′hĭ (see [number 69]).

Yawâ′ĭ: “Yawa place,” a spot on the south side of Yellow creek of Cheowa river, in Graham county, about a mile above the trail crossing near the mouth of the creek. The legend is that a mysterious personage, apparently a human being, formerly haunted a round knob near there, and was sometimes seen walking about the top of the knob and crying, Yawă′! Yawă′! while the sound of invisible guns came from the hill, so that the people were afraid to go near it.

123. LOCAL LEGENDS OF SOUTH CAROLINA

As the Cherokee withdrew from all of South Carolina except a small strip in the extreme west as early as 1777, the memory of the old legends localized within the state has completely faded from the tribe. There remain, however, some local names upon which the whites who succeeded to the inheritance have built traditions of more or less doubtful authenticity.

In Pickens and Anderson counties, in the northwest corner of the state, is a series of creeks joining Keowee river and named, respectively in order, from above downward, Mile, Six-mile, Twelve-mile, Eighteen-mile, Twenty-three-mile, and Twenty-six-mile. According to the local story, they were thus christened by a young woman, in one of the early Indian wars, as she crossed each ford on a rapid horseback flight to the lower settlements to secure help for the beleaguered garrison of Fort Prince George. The names really date back almost to the first establishment of the colony, and were intended to indicate roughly the distances along the old trading path from Fort Ninety-six, on Henleys creek of Saluda river, to Keowee, at that time the frontier town of the Cherokee Nation, the two points being considered 96 miles apart as the trail ran. Fort Prince George was on the east bank of Keowee river, near the entrance of Crow creek, and directly opposite the Indian town.

Conneross: The name of a creek which enters Keowee (or Seneca) river from the west, in Anderson county; it is a corruption of the Lower Cherokee dialectic form, Kăwân′-urâ′sûñyĭ or Kăwân′-tsurâ′-sûñyĭ, “Where the duck fell off.” According to the still surviving Cherokee tradition, a duck once had her nest upon a cliff overlooking the stream in a cave with the mouth so placed that in leaving the nest she appeared to fall from the cliff into the water. There was probably an Indian settlement of the same name:

Toxaway: The name of a creek and former Cherokee settlement at the extreme head of Keowee river; it has been incorrectly rendered “Place of shedding tears,” from daksăwa′ihû, “he is shedding tears.” The correct Cherokee form of the name is Dûksa′ĭ or Dûkwʼsa′ĭ, a word which can not be analyzed and of which the meaning is now lost.

124. LOCAL LEGENDS OF TENNESSEE

For the more important legends localized in Tennessee see the stories The Hunter in the Dăkwă′, The Nest of the Tlă′nuwă, The Removed Townhouses, The Haunted Whirlpool, Ûñtsaiyĭ′, and Uʻtlûñ′ta.

Buffalo Track rock: This rock, of which the Indian name is now lost, is indefinitely mentioned as located southwest from Cumberland gap, on the northern border of the state. According to Wafford, it was well known some eighty years ago to the old Cherokee hunters, who described it as covered with deep impressions made by buffalo running along the rock and then butting their heads, as though in mad fury, against a rock wall, leaving the prints of their heads and horns in the stone.

Chattanooga: This city, upon Tennessee river, near the entrance of the creek of the same name in Hamilton county, was incorporated in 1848. So far as is known there was no Cherokee settlement at the place, although some prominent men of the tribe lived in the vicinity. The name originally belonged to some location upon the creek. The Cherokee pronounce it Tsatănu′gĭ, but say that it is not a Cherokee word and has no meaning in their language. The best informants express the opinion that it was from the Chickasaw (Choctaw) language, which seems possible, as the Chickasaw country anciently extended a considerable distance up the Tennessee, the nearest settlement being within 80 miles of the present city. The Cherokee sometimes call the city Aʻtlă′nuwă′, “Tlă′nuwă (Hawk) hole,” that being their old name for a bluff on the south side of the river at the foot of the present Market street. From this circumstance probably originated the statement by a magazine writer that the name Chattanooga signifies “The crow’s nest.”

Chickamauga: The name of two creeks in Hamilton county, entering Tennessee river from opposite sides a few miles above Chattanooga. A creek of the same name is one of the head-streams of Chattahoochee river, in White county, Georgia. The Cherokee pronounce it Tsĭkăma′gĭ, applying the name in Tennessee to the territory about the mouth of the southern, or principal, stream, where they formerly had a town, from which they removed in 1782. They state, however, that it is not a Cherokee word and has no meaning in their language. Filson, in 1793, erroneously states that it is from the Cherokee language and signifies “Boiling pot,” referring to a dangerous whirlpool in the river near by, and later writers have improved upon this by translating it to mean “Whirlpool.” The error arises from confounding this place with The Suck, a whirlpool in Tennessee river 15 miles farther down and known to the Cherokee as Ûñtiguhĭ′, “Pot in the water” (see [number 63], “Ûñtsaiyĭ′, the Gambler”). On account of the hard fighting in the neighborhood during the Civil war, the stream was sometimes called, poetically, “The River of Death,” the term being frequently given as a translation of the Indian word. It has been suggested that the name is derived from an Algonquian word referring to a fishing or fish-spearing place, in which case it may have originated with the Shawano, who formerly occupied middle Tennessee, and some of whom at a later period resided jointly with the Cherokee in the settlements along this part of the river. If not Shawano it is probably from the Creek or Chickasaw.

Concerning “Chickamauga gulch,” a canyon on the northern stream of that name, a newspaper writer gives the following so-called legend, which it is hardly necessary to say is not genuine:

The Cherokees were a tribe singularly rich in tradition, and of course so wild, gloomy, and remarkable a spot was not without its legend. The descendants of the expatriated semi-barbarians believe to this day that in ages gone a great serpent made its den in the gulch, and that yearly he demanded of the red men ten of their most beautiful maidens as a sacrificial offering. Fearful of extermination, the demand was always complied with by the tribe, amid weeping and wailing by the women. On the day before the tribute was due the serpent announced its presence by a demoniacal hiss, and the next morning the fair ones who had been chosen to save the tribe were taken to the summit of a cliff and left to be swallowed by the scaly Moloch.

Chilhowee: A mountain and station on the north side of Little Tennessee river, in Blount county. The correct Cherokee form is Tsûʻlûñwe′ĭ, applied to the lower part of Abrams creek, which enters the river from the north just above. The meaning of the word is lost, although it may possibly have a connection with tsûʻlû, “kingfisher.” It has been incorrectly rendered “fire deer,” an interpretation founded on the false assumption that the name is compounded from atsi′la, “fire,” and aʻwĭ′, “deer,” whence, Chil-howee. For legends localized in this vicinity, see the stories noted above. Chilhowee occurs also as the name of a stream in the mountains of southwestern Virginia.

Lenoir: On the north bank of the main Tennessee, at the junction of the Little Tennessee, in Loudon county. The Cherokee name is Wa′gĭnsĭ′, of which the meaning is lost, and was applied originally to an eddy in the stream, where, it was said, there dwelt a large serpent, to see which was an omen of evil. On one occasion a man crossing the river at this point saw the snake in the water and soon afterward lost one of his children.

Morganton: On a rocky hill on the old Indian trail on the west side of Little Tennessee river, above and nearly opposite Morganton, in Loudon county, are, or were a few years ago, four trees blazed in a peculiar manner, concerning which the Indians had several unsatisfactory stories, the most common opinion being that the marks were very old and had been made by Indians to indicate the position of hidden mines.

Nashville: The state capital, in Davidson county. The Cherokee name is Dăgû′năwelă′hĭ, “Mussel-liver place,” which would seem to have originated in some now forgotten legend.

Nickajack: A creek entering Tennessee river from the south about 15 miles below Chattanooga. Near its mouth is a noted cave of the same name. The Cherokee form is Nĭkutse′gĭ, the name of a former settlement of that tribe at the mouth of the creek; but the word has no meaning in that language, and is probably of foreign, perhaps Chickasaw, origin. The derivation from a certain “Nigger Jack,” said to have made the cave his headquarters is purely fanciful.

Savannah: A farm on the north bank of Hiwassee river at a ford of the same name, about 5 miles above Conasauga creek and Columbus, in Polk county. Here are extensive remains of an ancient settlement, including mounds, cemetery, and also, some seventy years ago, a small square inclosure or “fort” of undressed stone. According to a tradition given to Wafford, the Cherokee once prepared an ambush here for a hostile war party which they were expecting to come up the river, but were themselves defeated by the enemy, who made a detour around the Black mountain and came in upon their rear.

Tennessee: The Cherokee form is Tănăsĭ′, and was applied to several localities within the old territory of the tribe. The most important town of this name was on the south bank of Little Tennessee river, halfway between Citico and Toco creeks, in Monroe county, Tennessee. Another was on the south side of Hiwassee, just above the junction of Ocoee, in Polk county, Tennessee. A third district of the same name was on Tennessee creek, the extreme easterly head of Tuckasegee river, in Jackson county, North Carolina. The meaning of the name is lost. It was not the Indian name of the river, and does not mean “Big spoon,” as has been incorrectly asserted.

125. LOCAL LEGENDS OF GEORGIA

For more important legends localized in Georgia see the stories Yahula, The Nûñnĕhĭ, The Ustû′tlĭ, Âgan-uni′tsĭ’s Search for the Uktena, and The Man who Married the Thunder’s Sister. White’s Historical Collections of Georgia is responsible for a number of pseudo-myths.

Chopped oak: A noted tree, scarred with hundreds of hatchet marks, formerly in Habersham county, 6 miles east of Clarkesville, on the summit of Chattahoochee ridge, and on the north side of the road from Clarkesville to Toccoa creek. The Cherokee name is Digălu′yătûñ′yĭ, “Where it is gashed with hatchets.” It was a favorite assembly place for the Indians, as well as for the early settlers, according to whom the gashes were tally marks by means of which the Indians kept the record of scalps taken in their forays. The tradition is thus given by White (Historical Collections of Georgia, p. 489, 1855) on some earlier authority:

Among the curiosities of this country was the Chopped Oak, a tree famous in Indian history and in the traditions of the early settlers. This tree stood about 6 miles southeast of Clarkesville, and was noted as being the Law Ground, or place of holding company musters and magistrates’ courts. According to tradition, the Chopped Oak was a celebrated rendezvous of the Indians in their predatory excursions, it being at a joint where a number of trails met. Here their plans of warfare were laid; here the several parties separated; and here, on their return, they awaited each other; and then, in their brief language, the result of their enterprise was stated, and for every scalp taken a gash cut in the tree. If tradition tells the truth, and every scar on the blasted oak counts for a scalp, the success of their scouting parties must have been great. This tree was alive a few years since when a young man, possessing all the prejudices of his countrymen, and caring less for the traditions of the Indians than his own revenge, killed the tree by girdling it, that it might be no longer a living monument of the cruelties of the savages. The stump is still standing.

Dead Man’s gap: One mile below Tallulah falls, on the west side of the railroad, in Habersham county. So called from a former reputed Indian grave, now almost obliterated. According to the story, it was the grave of an Indian who was killed here while eloping with a white woman, whom he had stolen from her husband.

Frogtown: A creek at the head of Chestatee river, north of Dahlonega, in Lumpkin county. The Cherokee name is Walâsi′yĭ, “Frog place.” The name was originally applied to a mountain to the northeast (Rock mountain?), from a tradition that a hunter had once seen there a frog as large as a house. The Indian settlement along the creek bore the same name.

Hiwassee: A river having its source in Towns county, of northern Georgia, and flowing northwestward to join the Tennessee. The correct Cherokee form, applied to two former settlements on the stream, is Ayuhwa′sĭ (meaning “A savanna”). Although there is no especial Cherokee story connected with the name, White (Historical Collections of Georgia, p. 660) makes it the subject of a long pseudo-myth, in which Hiwassee, rendered “The Pretty Fawn,” is the beautiful daughter of a Catawba chief, and is wooed, and at last won, by a young Cherokee warrior named Notley, “The Daring Horseman,” who finally becomes the head chief of the Cherokee and succeeds in making perpetual peace between the two tribes. The story sounds very pretty, but is a pure invention.

Nacoochee: A village on the site of a former Cherokee settlement, in a beautiful and fertile valley of the same name at the head of Chattahoochee river, in White county. The Cherokee form is Naguʻtsĭ′, but the word has no meaning in that language and seems to be of foreign, perhaps Creek, origin. About 2 miles above the village, on the east bank of the river, is a large mound. White (Historical Collections of Georgia, p. 486) quotes a fictitious legend, according to which Nacoochee, “The Evening Star,” was a beautiful Indian princess, who unfortunately fell in love with a chieftain of a hostile tribe and was killed, together with her lover, while fleeing from the vengeance of an angry father. The two were buried in the same grave and the mound was raised over the spot. The only grain of truth in the story is that the name has a slight resemblance to năkwĭsĭ′, the Cherokee word for “star.”

Nottely: A river rising in Union county and flowing northwestward into Hiwassee. The Cherokee form is Na′dûʻlĭ′, applied to a former settlement on the west side of the river, in Cherokee county, North Carolina, about a mile from the Georgia line. Although suggestive of naʻtûʻlĭ, “spicewood,” it is a different word and has no meaning in the Cherokee language, being apparently of foreign, perhaps Creek, origin. For a pseudo-myth connected with the name, see the preceding note on Hiwassee.

Talking Rock: A creek in upper Georgia flowing northward to join Coosawatee river. The Indian settlements upon it were considered as belonging to Sanderstown, on the lower part of the creek, the townhouse being located about a mile above the present Talking Rock station on the west side of the railroad. The name is a translation of the Cherokee Nûñyû′-gûñwani′skĭ, “Rock that talks,” and refers, according to one informant, to an echo rock somewhere upon the stream below the present railroad station. An old-time trader among the Cherokee in Georgia says that the name was applied to a rock at which the Indians formerly held their councils, but the etymology of the word is against this derivation.

Tallulah: A river in Rabun county, northeastern Georgia, which flows into the Tugaloo, and has a beautiful fall about 2 miles above its mouth. The Cherokee form is Tălulŭ′ (Tărurĭ′ in the lower Cherokee dialect), the name of an ancient settlement some distance above the falls, as also of a creek and district at the head of Cheowa river, in Graham county, North Carolina. The name can not be translated. A magazine writer has rendered it “The Terrible,” for which there is no authority. Schoolcraft, on the authority of a Cherokee lady, renders it “There lies your child,” derived from a story of a child having been carried over the falls. The name, however, was not applied to the falls, but to a district on the stream above, as well as to another in North Carolina. The error arises from the fact that a word of somewhat similar sound denotes “having children” or “being pregnant,” used in speaking of a woman. One informant derives it from tălulŭ′, the cry of a certain species of frog known as dulusĭ, which is found in that neighborhood, but not upon the reservation, and which was formerly eaten as food. A possible derivation is from a′tălulû′, “unfinished, premature, unsuccessful.” The fall was called Ugûñ′yĭ, a name of which the meaning is lost, and which was applied also to a locality on Little Tennessee river near Franklin, North Carolina. For a myth localized at Tallulah falls, see [number 84], “The Man who Married the Thunder’s Sister.”

In this connection Lanman gives the following story, which, notwithstanding its white man’s dress, appears to be based upon a genuine Cherokee tradition of the Nûñnĕ′hĭ:

During my stay at the Falls of Tallulah I made every effort to obtain an Indian legend or two connected with them, and it was my good fortune to hear one which has never yet been printed. It was originally obtained by the white man who first discovered the falls from the Cherokees, who lived in the region at the time. It is in substance as follows: Many generations ago it so happened that several famous hunters, who had wandered from the West toward what is now the Savannah river, in search of game, never returned to their camping grounds. In process of time the curiosity as well as the fears of the nation were excited, and an effort was made to ascertain the cause of their singular disappearance, whereupon a party of medicine men were deputed to make a pilgrimage toward the great river. They were absent a whole moon, and, on returning to their friends, they reported that they had discovered a dreadful fissure in an unknown part of the country, through which a mountain torrent took its way with a deafening noise. They said that it was an exceedingly wild place, and that its inhabitants were a species of little men and women, who dwelt in the crevices of the rocks and in grottoes under the waterfalls. They had attempted by every artifice in their power to hold a council with the little people, but all in vain; and, from the shrieks they frequently uttered, the medicine men knew that they were the enemies of the Indian race, and, therefore, it was concluded in the nation at large that the long-lost hunters had been decoyed to their death in the dreadful gorge, which they called Tallulah. In view of this little legend, it is worthy of remark that the Cherokee nation, previous to their departure for the distant West, always avoided the Falls of Tallulah, and were seldom found hunting or fishing in their vicinity.[34]

Toccoa: (1) A creek flowing into Tugaloo river, in Habersham county, with a fall upon its upper course, near the village of the same name. (2) A river in upper Georgia, flowing northwestward into Hiwassee. The correct Cherokee form applied to the former settlement on both streams is Tagwâ′hĭ, “Catawba place,” implying the former presence of Indians of that tribe. The lands about Toccoa falls were sold by the Cherokee in 1783 and were owned at one time by Wafford’s grandfather. According to Wafford, there was a tradition that when the whites first visited the place they saw, as they thought, an Indian woman walking beneath the surface of the water under the falls, and on looking again a moment after they saw her sitting upon an overhanging rock 200 feet in the air, with her feet dangling over. Said Wafford, “She must have been one of the Nûñnĕ′hĭ.”

Track Rock gap: A gap about 5 miles east of Blairsville, in Union county, on the ridge separating Brasstown creek from the waters of Nottely river. The micaceous soapstone rocks on both sides of the trail are covered with petroglyphs, from which the gap takes its name. The Cherokee call the place Datsu′nalâsgûñ′yĭ, “Where there are tracks,” or Degayelûñ′hă, “Printed (Branded) place.” The carvings are of many and various patterns, some of them resembling human or animal footprints, while others are squares, crosses, circles, “bird tracks,” etc., disposed without any apparent order. On the authority of a Doctor Stevenson, writing in 1834, White (Historical Collections of Georgia, p. 658, 1855), and after him Jones (Antiquities of the Southern Indians, 1873), give a misleading and greatly exaggerated account of these carvings, without having taken the trouble to investigate for themselves, although the spot is easily accessible. No effort, either state or local, is made to preserve the pictographs from destruction, and many of the finest have been cut out from the rock and carried off by vandals, Stevenson himself being among the number, by his own confession. The illustration (plate XX) is from a rough sketch made by the author in 1890.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY NINETEENTH ANNUAL REPORT PL. XX

PETROGLYPHS AT TRACK-ROCK GAP, GEORGIA

(From sketches by the author, 1889. Portions cut out by vandals are indicated by lighter shading)

The Cherokee have various theories to account for the origin of the carvings, the more sensible Indians saying that they were made by hunters for their own amusement while resting in the gap. Another tradition is that they were made while the surface of the newly created earth was still soft by a great army of birds and animals fleeing through the gap to escape some pursuing danger from the west—some say a great “drive hunt” of the Indians. Haywood confounds them with other petroglyphs in North Carolina connected with the story of the giant Tsulʻkălû′ (see [number 81]).

The following florid account of the carvings and ostensible Indian tradition of their origin is from White, on the authority of Stevenson:

The number visible or defined is 136, some of them quite natural and perfect, and others rather rude imitations, and most of them from the effects of time have become more or less obliterated. They comprise human feet from those 4 inches in length to those of great warriors which measure 17½ inches in length and 7¾ in breadth across the toes. What is a little curious, all the human feet are natural except this, which has 6 toes, proving him to have been a descendant of Titan. There are 26 of these impressions, all bare except one, which has the appearance of having worn moccasins. A fine turned hand, rather delicate, occupied a place near the great warrior, and probably the impression of his wife’s hand, who no doubt accompanied her husband in all his excursions, sharing his toils and soothing his cares away. Many horse tracks are to be seen. One seems to have been shod, some are very small, and one measures 12½ inches by 9½ inches. This the Cherokee say was the footprint of the great war horse which their chieftain rode. The tracks of a great many turkeys, turtles, terrapins, a large bear’s paw, a snake’s trail, and the footprints of two deer are to be seen. The tradition respecting these impressions varies. One asserts that the world was once deluged with water, and men with all animated beings were destroyed, except one family, together with various animals necessary to replenish the earth; that the Great Spirit before the floods came commanded them to embark in a big canoe, which after long sailing was drawn to this spot by a bevy of swans and rested there, and here the whole troop of animals was disembarked, leaving the impressions as they passed over the rock, which being softened by reason of long submersion kindly received and preserved them.

War Woman’s creek: Enters Chattooga river in Rabun county, northeastern Georgia, in the heart of the old Lower Cherokee country. The name seems to be of Indian origin, although the Cherokee name is lost and the story has perished. A writer quoted by White (Historical Collections of Georgia, p. 444) attempts to show its origin from the exploit of a certain Revolutionary amazon, in capturing a party of Tories, but the name occurs in Adair (note, p. 185) as early as 1775. There is some reason for believing that it refers to a former female dignitary among the Cherokee, described by Haywood under the title of the “Pretty Woman” as having authority to decide the fate of prisoners of war. Wafford once knew an old woman whose name was Daʻnă-gâ′stă, an abbreviated form for Daʻnăwă-gâsta′yă, “Sharp war,” understood to mean “Sharp (i. e., Fierce) warrior.” Several cases of women acting the part of warriors are on record among the Cherokee.

126. PLANT LORE

The Cherokee have always been an agricultural people, and their old country is a region of luxuriant flora, with tall trees and tangled undergrowth on the slopes and ridges, and myriad bright-tinted blossoms and sweet wild fruits along the running streams. The vegetable kingdom consequently holds a far more important place in the mythology and ceremonial of the tribe than it does among the Indians of the treeless plains and arid sage deserts of the West, most of the beliefs and customs in this connection centering around the practice of medicine, as expounded by the priests and doctors in every settlement. In general it is held that the plant world is friendly to the human species, and constantly at the willing service of the doctors to counteract the jealous hostility of the animals. The sacred formulas contain many curious instructions for the gathering and preparation of the medicinal roots and barks, which are selected chiefly in accordance with the theory of correspondences.

The Indians are close observers, and some of their plant names are peculiarly apt. Thus the mistletoe, which never grows alone, but is found always with its roots fixed in the bark of some supporting tree or shrub from which it draws its sustenance, is called by a name which signifies “it is married” (uda′ʻlĭ). The violet is still called by a plural name, dinda′skwate′skĭ, “they pull each other’s heads off,” showing that the Cherokee children have discovered a game not unknown among our own. The bear-grass (Eryngium), with its long, slender leaves like diminutive blades of corn, is called sălikwâ′yĭ, “greensnake,” and the larger grass known as Job’s tears, on account of its glossy, rounded grains, which the Indian children use for necklaces, is called sel-utsĭ′, “the mother of corn.” The black-eyed Susan (Rudbeckia) of our children is the “deer-eye” (aʻwĭ′-aktă′) of the Cherokee, and our lady-slipper (Cypripedium) is their “partridge moccasin” (gŭgwĕ′-ulasu′la). The May-apple (Podophyllum), with its umbrella-shaped top, is called u′niskwetu′ʻgĭ, meaning “it wears a hat,” while the white puffball fungus is năkwĭsĭ′-usdi′, “the little star,” and the common rock lichen bears the musical, if rather unpoetic, name of utsăle′ta, “pot scrapings.” Some plants are named from their real or supposed place in the animal economy, as the wild rose, tsist-uni′gistĭ, “the rabbits eat it”—referring to the seed berries—and the shield fern (Aspidium), yân-utse′stû, “the bear lies on it.” Others, again, are named from their domestic or ceremonial uses, as the fleabane (Erigeron canadense), called atsil′-sûñʻtĭ, “fire maker,” because its dried stalk was anciently employed in producing fire by friction, and the bugle weed (Lycopus virginicus), known as aniwani′skĭ, “talkers,” because the chewed root, given to children to swallow, or rubbed upon their lips, is supposed to endow them with the gift of eloquence. Some few, in addition to the ordinary term in use among the common people, have a sacred or symbolic name, used only by the priests and doctors in the prayer formulas. Thus ginseng, or “sang,” as it is more often called by the white mountaineers, is known to the laity as â′talĭ-gûlĭ′, “the mountain climber,” but is addressed in the formulas as Yûñwĭ Usdi′, “Little Man,” while selu (corn) is invoked under the name of Agawe′la in myths, as, for instance, that of Prosartes lanuginosa, which bears the curious name of walâs′-unûl′stĭ, “frogs fight with it,” from a story that in the long ago—hĭlahi′yu—two quarrelsome frogs once fought a duel, using its stalks as lances. In the locative form this was the name of a former Cherokee settlement in Georgia, called by the whites Fighting-town, from a misapprehension of the meaning of the word. Of the white clover, the Cherokee say that “it follows the white man.”

The division of trees into evergreen and deciduous is accounted for by a myth, related elsewhere, according to which the loss of their leaves in winter time is a punishment visited upon the latter for their failure to endure an ordeal to the end. With the Cherokee, as with nearly all other tribes east and west, the cedar is held sacred above other trees. The reasons for this reverence are easily found in its ever-living green, its balsamic fragrance, and the beautiful color of its fine-grained wood, unwarping and practically undecaying. The small green twigs are thrown upon the fire as incense in certain ceremonies, particularly to counteract the effect of asgina dreams, as it is believed that the anisgi′na or malevolent ghosts can not endure the smell; but the wood itself is considered too sacred to be used as fuel. In the war dance, the scalp trophies, stretched on small hoops, were hung upon a cedar sapling trimmed and decorated for the occasion. According to a myth the red color comes originally from the blood of a wicked magician, whose severed head was hung at the top of a tall cedar. The story is now almost forgotten, but it was probably nearly identical with one still existing among the Yuchi, former neighbors of the Cherokee. According to the Yuchi myth, a malevolent magician disturbed the daily course of the sun until at last two brave warriors sought him out and killed him in his cave. They cut off his head and brought it home with them to show to the people, but it continued still alive. To make it die they were advised to tie it in the topmost branches of a tree. This they did, trying one tree after another, but each morning the head was found at the foot of the tree and still alive. At last they tied it in a cedar, and there the head remained until it was dead, while the blood slowly trickling down along the trunk gave the wood its red color, and henceforth the cedar was a “medicine” tree.[35]

The linn or basswood (Tilia) is believed never to be struck by lightning, and the hunter caught in one of the frequent thunderstorms of the southern mountains always seeks its shelter. From its stringy bark are twisted the hunting belts worn about the waist. Sourwood (Oxydendrum) is used by the hunters for barbecue sticks to roast meat before the fire, on account of the acid flavor of the wood, which they believe to be thus communicated to the meat. Spoons and combs are also carved from the wood, but it is never burned, from an idea that lye made from the ashes will bring sickness to those who use it in preparing their food. It is said also that if one should sleep beside a fire containing sourwood sticks the sourwood “will barbecue him,” which may possibly mean that he will have hot or feverish pains thereafter.

The laurel, in its two varieties, large and small (Rhododendron and Kalmia, or “ivy”), is much used for spoons and combs, on account of its close grain, as also in medicine, but is never burned, as it is believed that this would bring on cold weather, and would furthermore destroy the medicinal virtues of the whole species. The reason given is that the leaves, when burning, make a hissing sound suggestive of winter winds and falling snow. When the doctor is making up a compound in which any part of the laurel is an ingredient, great precautions are taken to prevent any of the leaves or twigs being swept into the fire, as this would render the decoction worthless. Sassafras is tabued as fuel among the Cherokee, as also among their white neighbors, perhaps for the practical reason that it is apt to pop out of the fire when heated and might thus set the house on fire.

Pounded walnut bark is thrown into small streams to stupefy the fish, so that they may be easily dipped out in baskets as they float on the surface of the water. Should a pregnant woman wade into the stream at the time, its effect is nullified, unless she has first taken the precaution to tie a strip of the bark about her toe. A fire of post-oak and the wood of the telûñ′lătĭ or summer grape (Vitis æstivalis) is believed to bring a spell of warm weather even in the coldest winter season.

Mysterious properties attach to the wood of a tree which has been struck by lightning, especially when the tree itself still lives, and such wood enters largely into the secret compounds of the conjurers. An ordinary person of the laity will not touch it, for fear of having cracks come upon his hands and feet, nor is it burned for fuel, for fear that lye made from the ashes will cause consumption. In preparing ballplayers for the contest, the medicine-man sometimes burns splinters of it to coal, which he gives to the players to paint themselves with in order that they may be able to strike their opponents with all the force of a thunderbolt. Bark or wood from a tree struck by lightning, but still green, is beaten up and put into the water in which seeds are soaked before planting, to insure a good crop, but, on the other hand, any lightning-struck wood thrown into the field will cause the crop to wither, and it is believed to have a bad effect even to go into the field immediately after having been near such a tree.

Among all vegetables the one which holds first place in the household economy and ceremonial observance of the tribe is selu, “corn,” invoked in the sacred formulas under the name of Agawe′la, “The Old Woman,” in allusion to its mythic origin from the blood of an old woman killed by her disobedient sons (see [number 3], “Kana′tĭ and Selu”). In former times the annual thanksgiving ceremony of the Green-corn dance, preliminary to eating the first new corn, was the most solemn tribal function, a propitiation and expiation for the sins of the past year, an amnesty for public criminals, and a prayer for happiness and prosperity for the year to come. Only those who had properly prepared themselves by prayer, fasting, and purification were allowed to take part in this ceremony, and no one dared to taste the new corn until then. Seven ears from the last year’s crop were always put carefully aside, in order to attract the corn until the new crop was ripened and it was time for the dance, when they were eaten with the rest. In eating the first new corn after the Green Corn dance, care was observed not to blow upon it to cool it, for fear of causing a wind storm to beat down the standing crop in the field.

Much ceremony accompanied the planting and tending of the crop. Seven grains, the sacred number, were put into each hill, and these were not afterward thinned out. After the last working of the crop, the priest and an assistant—generally the owner of the field—went into the field and built a small inclosure (detsănûñ′lĭ) in the center. Then entering it, they seated themselves upon the ground, with heads bent down, and while the assistant kept perfect silence the priest, with rattle in hand, sang songs of invocation to the spirit of the corn. Soon, according to the orthodox belief, a loud rustling would be heard outside, which they would know was caused by the “Old Woman” bringing the corn into the field, but neither must look up until the song was finished. This ceremony was repeated on four successive nights, after which no one entered the field for seven other nights, when the priest himself went in, and, if all the sacred regulations had been properly observed, was rewarded by finding young ears upon the stalks. The corn ceremonies could be performed by the owner of the field himself, provided he was willing to pay a sufficient fee to the priest in order to learn the songs and ritual. Care was always taken to keep a clean trail from the field to the house, so that the corn might be encouraged to stay at home and not go wandering elsewhere. Most of these customs have now fallen into disuse excepting among the old people, by many of whom they are still religiously observed.

Another curious ceremony, of which even the memory is now almost forgotten, was enacted after the first working of the corn, when the owner or priest stood in succession at each of the four corners of the field and wept and wailed loudly. Even the priests are now unable to give a reason for this performance, which may have been a lament for the bloody death of Selu, as the women of Byblos were wont to weep for Adonis.

Next to corn, the bean (tuya) is the most important food plant of the Cherokee and other southern Indians, with whom it is probably native, but there does not appear to be much special ceremony or folklore in connection with it. Beans which crack open in cooking are sometimes rubbed by mothers on the lips of their children in order to make them look smiling and good-tempered. The association of ideas seems to be the same as that which in Ireland causes a fat mealy potato, which cracks open in boiling, to be called a “laughing” potato. Melons and squashes must not be counted or examined too closely, while still growing upon the vine, or they will cease to thrive; neither must one step over the vine, or it will wither before the fruit ripens. One who has eaten a May-apple must not come near the vines under any circumstances, as this plant withers and dries up very quickly, and its presence would make the melons wither in the same way.

Tobacco was used as a sacred incense or as the guarantee of a solemn oath in nearly every important function—in binding the warrior to take up the hatchet against the enemy, in ratifying the treaty of peace, in confirming sales or other engagements, in seeking omens for the hunter, in driving away witches or evil spirits, and in regular medical practice. It was either smoked in the pipe or sprinkled upon the fire, never rolled into cigarettes, as among the tribes of the Southwest, neither was it ever smoked for the mere pleasure of the sensation. Of late years white neighbors have taught the Indians to chew it, but the habit is not aboriginal. It is called tsâlû, a name which has lost its meaning in the Cherokee language, but is explained from the cognate Tuscarora, in which charhû′, “tobacco,” can still be analyzed as “fire to hold in the mouth,” showing that the use is as old as the knowledge of the plant. The tobacco originally in use among the Cherokee, Iroquois, and other eastern tribes was not the common tobacco of commerce (Nicotiana tabacum), which has been introduced from the West Indies, but the Nicotiana rustica, or wild tobacco, now distinguished by the Cherokee as tsâl-agăyûñ′li, “old tobacco,” and by the Iroquois as “real tobacco.” Its various uses in ritual and medicine are better described under other headings. For the myth of its loss and recovery see [number 6], “How They Brought Back the Tobacco.” The cardinal flower (Lobelia), mullein (Verbascum), and one or two related species are called tsâliyu′stĭ, “like tobacco,” on account of their general resemblance to it in appearance, but they were never used in the same way.

The poisonous wild parsnip (Peucedanum?) bears an unpleasant reputation on account of its frequent use in evil spells, especially those intended to destroy the life of the victim. In one of these conjurations seven pieces of the root are laid upon one hand and rubbed gently with the other, the omen being taken from the position of the pieces when the hand is removed. It is said also that poisoners mix it secretly with the food of their intended victim, when, if he eats, he soon becomes drowsy, and, unless kept in motion until the effect wears off, falls asleep, never to wake again. Suicides are said to eat it to procure death. Before starting on a journey a small piece of the root is sometimes chewed and blown upon the body to prevent sickness, but the remedy is almost as bad as the disease, for the snakes are said to resent the offensive smell by biting the one who carries it. In spite of its poisonous qualities, a decoction of the root is much used for steaming patients in the sweat bath, the idea seeming to be that the smell drives away the disease spirits.

The poison oak or poison ivy (Rhus radicans), so abundant in the damp eastern forests, is feared as much by Indians as by whites. When obliged to approach it or work in its vicinity, the Cherokee strives to conciliate it by addressing it as “My friend” (hi′gĭnaliĭ). If poisoned by it, he rubs upon the affected part the beaten flesh of a crawfish.

One variety of brier (Smilax) is called diʻnû′skĭ, “the breeder,” from a belief that a thorn of it, if allowed to remain in the flesh, will breed others in a day or two.

Ginseng, which is sold in large quantities to the local traders, as well as used in the native medical practice, is called âtalĭ-gûlĭ′, “the mountain climber,” but is addressed by the priests as Yûñwĭ Usdi′, “Little Man,” or Yûñwi Usdi′ga Ada′wehi′yu, “Little Man, Most Powerful Magician,” the Cherokee sacred term, like the Chinese name, having its origin from the frequent resemblance of the root in shape to the body of a man. The beliefs and ceremonies in connection with its gathering and preparation are very numerous. The doctor speaks constantly of it as of a sentient being, and it is believed to be able to make itself invisible to those unworthy to gather it. In hunting it, the first three plants found are passed by. The fourth is taken, after a preliminary prayer, in which the doctor addresses it as the “Great Ada′wehĭ,” and humbly asks permission to take a small piece of its flesh. On digging it from the ground, he drops into the hole a bead and covers it over, leaving it there, by way of payment to the plant spirit. After that he takes them as they come without further ceremony.

The catgut or devil’s shoestring (Tephrosia) is called distai′yĭ, “they are tough,” in allusion to its stringy roots, from which Cherokee women prepare a decoction with which to wash their hair in order to impart to it the strength and toughness of the plant, while a preparation of the leaves is used by ballplayers to wash themselves in order to toughen their limbs. To enable them to spring quickly to their feet if thrown to the ground, the players bathe their limbs also with a decoction of the small rush (Juncus tenuis), which, they say, always recovers its erect position, no matter how often trampled down. The white seeds of the viper’s bugloss (Echium vulgare) were formerly used in many important ceremonies of which the purpose was to look into the future, but have now been superseded by the ordinary glass beads of the traders. The culver root (Leptandra) is used in love conjurations, the omen being taken from the motion of the root when held in the hand. The campion (Silene stellata), locally known as “rattlesnake’s master,” is called ganidawâ′skĭ, “it disjoints itself,” because the dried stalk is said to break off by joints, beginning at the top. As among the white mountaineers, the juice is held to be a sovereign remedy for snake bites, and it is even believed that the deadliest snake will flee from one who carries a small portion of the root in his mouth.

Almost all varieties of burs, from the Spanish needle up to the cocklebur and Jimsonweed, are classed together under the generic name of u′nistilûn′istĭ, which may be freely rendered as “stickers.” From their habit of holding fast to whatever object they may happen to touch, they are believed to have an occult power for improving the memory and inducing stability of character. Very soon after a child is born, one of the smaller species, preferably the Lespedeza repens, is beaten up and a portion is put into a bowl of water taken from a fall or cataract, where the stream makes a constant noise. This is given to the child to drink on four successive days, with the intention of making him quick to learn and retain in memory anything once heard. The noise of the cataract from which the water is taken is believed to be the voice of Yûñwĭ Gûnahi′ta, the “Long Man,” or river god, teaching lessons which the child may understand, while the stream itself is revered for its power to seize and hold anything cast upon its surface. A somewhat similar ceremony is sometimes used for adults, but in this case the matter is altogether more difficult, as there are tabus for four or seven days, and the mind must be kept fixed upon the purpose of the rite throughout the whole period, while if the subject so far forgets himself as to lose his temper in that time he will remain of a quarrelsome disposition forever after.

A flowering vine, known as nuniyu′stĭ, “potato-like,” which grows in cultivated fields, and has a tuberous root somewhat resembling a potato, is used in hunting conjurations. The bruised root, from which a milky juice oozes, is rubbed upon the deer bleat, aʻwĭ′-ahyeli′skĭ, with which the hunter imitates the bleating of the fawn, under the idea that the doe, hearing it, will think that her offspring desires to suck, and will therefore come the sooner. The putty-root (Adam-and-Eve, Aplectrum hiemale), which is of an oily, mucilaginous nature, is carried by the deer hunter, who, on shooting a deer, puts a small piece of the chewed root into the wound, expecting as a necessary result to find the animal unusually fat when skinned. Infants which seem to pine and grow thin are bathed with a decoction of the same root in order to fatten them. The root of the rare plant known as Venus’ flytrap (Dionæa), which has the remarkable property of catching and digesting insects which alight upon it, is chewed by the fisherman and spit upon the bait that no fish may escape him, and the plant is tied upon the fish trap for the same purpose.

The root of a plant called unatlûñwe′hitû, “having spirals,” is used in conjurations designed to predispose strangers in favor of the subject. The priest “takes it to water”—i. e., says certain prayers over it while standing close to the running stream, then chews a small piece and rubs and blows it upon the body and arms of the patient, who is supposed to be about to start upon a journey, or to take part in a council, with the result that all who meet him or listen to his words are at once pleased with his manner and appearance, and disposed to give every assistance to his projects.

---

[1] See “The Daughter of the Sun.” [↑]

[2] See the next story. [↑]

[3] “The Onondagas retain the custody of the wampums of the Five Nations, and the keeper of the wampums, Thomas Webster, of the Snipe tribe, a consistent, thorough pagan, is their interpreter. Notwithstanding the claims made that the wampums can be read as a governing code of law, it is evident that they are simply monumental reminders of preserved traditions, without any literal details whatever.

“The first [of this] group from left to right, represents a convention of the Six Nations at the adoption of the Tuscaroras into the league; the second, the Five Nations, upon seven strands, illustrates a treaty with seven Canadian tribes before the year 1600; the third signifies the guarded approach of strangers to the councils of the Five Nations (a guarded gate, with a long, white path leading to the inner gate, where the Five Nations are grouped, with the Onondagas in the center and a safe council house behind all); the fourth represents a treaty when but four of the Six Nations were represented, and the fifth embodies the pledge of seven Canadian christianized nations to abandon their crooked ways and keep an honest peace (having a cross for each tribe, and with a zigzag line below, to indicate that their ways had been crooked but would ever after be as sacred as the cross). Above this group is another, claiming to bear date about 1608, when Champlain joined the Algonquins against the Iroquois.”—Carrington, in Six Nations of New York, Extra Bulletin, Eleventh Census, pp. 33–34, 1892. [↑]

[4] Haywood, Nat. and Aborig. Hist. of Tennessee, pp. 222–224, 1823. [↑]

[5] Ibid, p. 241. [↑]

[6] Ibid, p. 222. [↑]

[7] Schoolcraft, Notes on Iroquois, p. 160, 1847. [↑]

[8] Heckewelder, Indian Nations, p. 88, reprint of 1876. [↑]

[9] Brinton, Lenape and Their Legends, p. 130 et passim, 1885; Schoolcraft, Notes on Iroquois, pp. 147, 305 et passim, 1847; Heckewelder, Indian Nations, pp. 47–50, ed. 1876. [↑]

[10] Heckewelder, op. cit., p. 54. [↑]

[11] Loskiel, History of the [Moravian] Mission, pp. 124–127; London, 1794. [↑]

[12] Heckewelder, Indian Nations, pp. 88–89, 1876. [↑]

[13] See Haywood, Nat. and Aborig. Hist. of Tennessee, pp. 220, 224, 237, 1823. [↑]

[14] North Carolina Colonial Records, III, pp. 153, 202, 345, 369, 393, 1886. [↑]

[15] Mooney, Siouan Tribes of the East (bulletin of the Bureau of Ethnology), pp. 56, 61, 1894. [↑]

[16] Catawba MS from South Carolina official archives. Schoolcraft, Indian Tribes, III, pp. 293–4, 1853. [↑]

[17] Ibid., p. 294, 1853. [↑]

[18] Royce, The Cherokee Nation of Indians, in Fifth Report of Bureau of Ethnology. pp. 205–208, 266–272, 1887; also (for 1783) Bartram, Travels, p. 483, 1792. [↑]

[19] Haywood, Nat. and Aborig. Hist. Tenn., p. 241, 1823. Bullhead may be intended for Doublehead, an old Cherokee name. [↑]

[20] Mooney, The Cherokee Ball Play, in The American Anthropologist, III, p. 107, April, 1890. [↑]

[21] Bartram, Travels, p. 518, 1791. [↑]

[22] Adair, History of American Indians, pp. 227, 247, 252–256, 270, 276–279, 1775. [↑]

[23] Ramsey, Annals of Tennessee, pp. 81, 84, 1853. [↑]

[24] Mooney, Siouan Tribes of the East (bulletin of the Bureau of Ethnology), p. 83, 1894. [↑]

[25] Bienville, quoted in Gayarré, Louisiana. [↑]

[26] Haywood, Natural and Aboriginal History of Tennessee, pp. 105–107, 1823. For a sketch of the Natchez war and the subsequent history of the scattered fragments of the tribe, see the author’s paper, The End of the Natchez, in the American Anthropologist for July, 1899. [↑]

[27] Adair, History of American Indians, p. 257, 1775. The other statements concerning the Taskigi among the Creeks are taken from Gatschet’s valuable study, A Migration Legend of the Creek Indians, I, pp. 122, 145, 228, 1884. [↑]

[28] Haywood, Natural and Aboriginal History of Tennessee, p. 24, 1823. From a contemporary reference in Rivers, South Carolina, page 57, it appears that this war was in full progress in 1757. [↑]

[29] Margry, quoted in Gatschet, Creek Migration Legend, I, pp. 16, 87, 1884. [↑]

[30] Wasash, French Ouasage, corrupted by the Americans into Osage. [↑]

[31] Nat. and Aborig. Hist. Tenn., p. 266. [↑]

[32] MacGowan, Dr D. J., Indian Secret Societies, Historical Magazine, X, p. 139, 1866. Morrisania, N. Y. [↑]

[33] Haywood, Nat. and Aborig. Hist. Tenn., p. 239. [↑]

[34] Letters from the Alleghany Mountains, pages 41–42. [↑]

[35] Gatschet, Some Mythic Stories of the Yuchi Indians, in American Anthropologist, VI, p. 281, July, 1893. [↑]