During our long stay at our second visit, this cliff was invariably called by our scouts Tote-ack-ah-noo-la, and with some slight difference in the terminal syllable, was so called by Ten-ie-ya. This word was invariably translated to mean the “Rock Chief,” or “The Captain.”
Upon one occasion I asked, “Why do you call the cliff Tote-ack-ah-noo-la?” The Indian’s reply was, “Because he looks like one.” I then asked, “What was meant by he?” at the same time saying that the cliff was not a man, to be called “he.” His reply was, “Come with me and see.” Taking Sandino with me, I went, and as the Indian reached a point a little above and some distance out from the cliff, he triumphantly pointed to the perfect image of a man’s head and face, with side whiskers, and with an expression of the sturdy English type, and asked, “Does he not look like Tote-ack-ah-noo-la?” The “Rock Chief,” or “Captain,” was again Sandino’s interpretation of the word while viewing the likeness.
This was the first intimation that any of us had of the reason why the name was applied, and it was shown in response to the question asked, why the rock had been personified.
To-tor-kon, is the name for a sand-hill crane, and ni-yul-u-ka, is the Pai-ute for head; but “crane-head” can scarcely be manufactured out of Tote-ack-ah-noo-la. It appears to me most probable that Tote-ack-ah-noo-la is derived from “ack,” a rock, and To-whon-e-o, meaning chief. I am not etymologist enough to understand just how the word has been constructed, but am satisfied that the primates of the compound are rock and chief. If, however, I am found in error, I shall be most willing to acknowledge it, for few things appear more uncertain, or more difficult to obtain, than a complete understanding of the soul of an Indian language; principally because of the ignorance and suspicion with which a persistent and thorough research is met by the sensitively vain and jealous savages.
In leaving this subject, I would say that before it be too late, a careful and full collection of vocabularies of all the tongues should be made. I am aware of what has already been done by the labors of Schoolcraft, and the officers of the army in more modern times; but there is yet left a large field for persistent labor, that should be worked by the Smithsonian Institute or ethnological societies.
In adopting the Spanish interpretation, “El Capitan,” for Tote-ack-ah-noo-la, we pleased our mission interpreters and conferred upon the majestic cliff a name corresponding to its dignity. When this name was approved it set aside forever those more numerous than belong to royal families. It is said by Mr. Hutchings that a profile likeness is readily traced on the angle of the cliff. The one pointed out to me was above the pine tree alcove on the southern face of the cliff, half way up its wall. It appeared to have been formed by the peculiar conformation of the rock and oxidation. The chemical stain of iron, or other mineral substance, had produced this representation, which was looked upon with superstitious awe.
“The Fallen Rocks,” “The Frog Mountains,” or “Three Brothers,” the “Yosemite Falls,” “The Lost Arrow,” “Indian Cañon” and “The Arrow-wood Rocks” have already been noticed in these pages. It remains for me to briefly notice a few more objects and close this chapter. The names “North Dome,” “South Dome” and “Half Dome” were given by us during our long stay in the valley from their localities and peculiar configuration. Some changes have been made since they were adopted. The peak called by us the “South Dome” has since been given the name of “Sentinel Dome,” and the “Half Dome,” Tis-sa-ack, represented as meaning the “Cleft Rock,” is now called by many the “South Dome.”[17] The name for the “North Dome” is To-ko-ya, its literal signification “The Basket.” The name given to the rocks now known as “The Royal Arches” is Scho-ko-ya when alluding to the fall, and means the “Basket Fall,” as coming from To-ko-ya, and when referring to the rock itself it was called Scho-ko-ni, meaning the movable shade to a cradle, which, when in position, formed an arched shade over the infant’s head. The name of “The Royal Arch” was given to it by a comrade who was a member of the Masonic Fraternity, and it has since been called “The Royal Arches.” The “Half Dome” was figuratively spoken of as “The Sentinel” by our mission Indians, because of its overlooking the valley. The present “Sentinel” they called “Loya,” a corruption of Olla (Oya), Spanish for an earthen water-pot. The mountain tribes use, instead, a long-pointed basket, shaped somewhat like that rock, which the basket is supposed to resemble.
SENTINEL ROCK.
(3,043 feet in height.)