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.