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Title: Occoneechee - The Maid of the Mystic Lake
Author: Jarrett, Robert Frank
Language: English
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OCCONEECHEE
THE MAID OF THE MYSTIC LAKE
BY
ROBERT FRANK JARRETT
Author of "Back Home and Other Poems"
THE SHAKESPEARE PRESS
410 E. 32d Street
New York
1916
Copyrighted, 1916
By R. F. Jarrett
PREFACE.
Realizing that the memory of a nation is best kept aglow by its
songs and the writings of its poets, I have been inspired to write
OCCONEECHEE, in order that the once powerful nation known as the
Cherokee may be preserved in mind, and that their myths, their legends
and their traditions may linger and be transmitted to the nations
yet to come.
Trusting that a generous people may hail with delight the advent
of this new work, I now dedicate its pages to all lovers of music,
poetry and fine art.
When you've read its pages give or lend
This volume to some good old friend.
The Author.
BRIEF BIOGRAPHY OF THE AUTHOR.
Robert Frank Jarrett was born in Asheville, N. C., on July 21st, 1864,
and while having resided in other states and cities and visited many of
the most important sections of the South, yet has made his principal
home within the shadows of the rugged mountain peaks of his native
and picturesque home land, the Old North State.
He was educated in the field and forest, by rippling stream and
rolling rill, studied in the open book of Nature and recited to the
Master of Destinies where the shadows of the everlasting hills lock
hands with the sunshine of the valley.
He is a reader and student of the ancient writers and poets of all
ages, singer of the old songs, lover of the new;
Servant in official capacity for many years of National, State and
Civic governments; humble worker with the busy toilers, and writer
of prose and verse from earliest childhood;
Author of "Back Home and Other Poems," published in 1911, and many
other manuscripts not yet published.
Married to Sallie C. Wild, of Franklin, N. C., on Dec. 25th, 1892. For
twenty years a resident of Dillsboro, N. C., where orchard and field
and dense deep forests have inspired and impelled him on.
CONTENTS
Page
Part I. The Cherokee, 7
Part II. Occoneechee, 21
Part III. Myths of the Cherokee, 127
Part IV. Glossary of Cherokee Words, 197
ILLUSTRATIONS
Portrait of Robert Frank Jarrett, Frontispiece
Tuckaseigee Falls, above Dillsboro, 9
Along Scott's Creek, below Balsam, 21
Sunset from Mt. Junaluska, 26
Lake Junaluska, near Waynesville, 26
A Glimpse of the Craggies, 37
From Top of Chimney Rock, 37
Graybeard Mountain, 37
Chimney Top, 37
Upper Catawba Falls, Esmeralda, 43
Occoneechee Falls, Jackson County, 43
In the Cherokee Country, 43
Whitewater Falls, 43
The Balsam Mountains in Jackson Co., 51
North from Sunset Rock, Tryon Mt., 51
Balsam Mountains, 67
From Bald Rock, 67
Lower Cullasaja Falls, 73
Mount Pisgah, 77
Indian Mound, Franklin, N. C., 77
Tallulah Falls, Ga., 81
Whiteside Mountain, 91
Tennessee River, above Franklin, 99
Lake Toxaway, 99
Tomb of Junaluska, Robbinsville, 107
Where the Serpent Coiled, 107
Harvesting at Cullowhee, N. C., 117
Craggy Mountains from near Asheville, 117
Sequoya, 129
John Ax, the Great Story Teller, 129
Everglades of Florida, 129
Tuckaseigee River, 139
Kanuga Lake, 153
Lake Fairfield, 153
Pacolet River, Hendersonville, 153
A Cherokee Indian Ball Team, 171
The Pools, Chimney Rock, 171
French Broad River, 185
Broad River, 185
From the Toxaway, 191
Chimney Top Gap, 191
Chimney Rock, 197
Occonestee Falls, 237
Linville Falls, 237
Triple Falls, Buck Forest, 237
High Falls, Buck Forest, 284
Melrose Falls, Tryon, N. C., 284
PART I
THE CHEROKEE
"I know not how the truth may be,
I tell the tale as 'twas told to me."
THE CHEROKEE.
A brief history of the Cherokee Nation or tribe.
This history has been gleaned from the works of Ethnology by James
Mooney and from word of mouth, as related to the author during the
past thirty years.
In the beginning of historical events, we hear of man in his
paradisaical home, located somewhere within the boundaries known
as ancient Egypt or Chaldea. His home was far away and his former
history shrouded in the darkness of countless centuries of the past,
and when we contemplate the remoteness of his ancestry, we become
lost in the midst of our own research.
When historical light began to flash from the Orient, we find man
emerging with some degree of civilization from a barbaric state into
the advanced degrees of civilized and enlightened tribes.
When the maritime navigator, full of visions and dreams, dared to sail
for those hitherto undiscovered shores, now known as America, there
lived within the realm a wandering, happy, yet untutored, race of men
whom we afterwards called Indians, who dwelt in great numbers along the
whole distance from Penobscot Bay south to the everglades of Florida.
Among the more noted tribes were the Abnaki, Mohawk, Mohican, Huron,
Iroquois, Munsi, Erie, Seneca, Susquehanna, Mamrahoac, Powhatan,
Monacan, Nollaway, Tuscarora, Pamlico, Catawba, Santee, Uchee, Yamasee,
Creek, Choctaw, Seminole, Showano and Cherokee, but of all of these
it is left for us to speak alone of the valiant Cherokee, the most
noble of all Red Men, who inhabited that picturesque country in
the Appalachian chain of mountains in East Tennessee, Western North
Carolina, Northern Georgia, South Carolina and Alabama, and part of
Virginia, Kentucky and West Virginia.
These are the people of whom little has been said and less written
than most of the children of men. Yet of all of the native Americans
the Cherokee tribe was the most noble, humane and intelligent.
Somewhere in the annals of the Aborigines of America, the Cherokee
separated from the great Northern tribe, the Iroquois, and by
preference inhabited the hills of the Appalachian range, and here
we find them early in the dawn of American history, occupying a
country which affords ample environment for the artist, the poet
and the painter. Had Homer seen and Michelangelo traveled among the
towering hills of the happiest land of earth, the song and the chisel,
instead of being draped with the vail of blood, would have inspired
the world to look forward to the time when there will be no death
serenely sitting upon the throne of war.
At one time the Cherokee tribe was the largest and most learned in
art and literature of any tribe in the United States, having perhaps
as many as twenty-five thousand people, and attained, under Sequoya,
whose photograph is herein reproduced, that degree of learning, that
many of the tribe became quite familiar with letters and literature,
printed from the alphabet invented by this noted man, inventor and
devout preacher of the Christian gospel.
Sequoya was himself an untutored half-breed, yet to him are we indebted
for an alphabet of 76 characters which stands third among the alphabets
which have been invented among men, and by which a Cherokee child
learns to read as fluently in six months of study as does the average
English child in three years of study under our system.
The name Cherokee, so far as research reveals, has no meaning or the
meaning has been lost or perhaps Anglicized, but we have authority
for its use, for the past 375 years.
When De Soto's expedition was made through the Appalachian mountains,
in 1540, he encountered this great and friendly nation living
peacefully in their paradise among the hills and mountains, who
received him as they were wont to receive a friendly tribe; so did
they ever receive and treat the white neighbor until treaty after
treaty had been broken and their homes had been destroyed and every
compact violated.
Hostilities were in most cases caused by encroaching whites and broken
promises and intrigues of the foreigners, who were gradually drawing
the cordon around the diminishing tribe.
The battle of Horseshoe Bend, which took place in the Tallapoosa
river, in Alabama, on the 27th day of March, 1814, was one of the
notable events in Cherokee history, where Junaluska, in conjunction
with General Jackson, slaughtered or massacred nearly one thousand
Creeks, which ended the Creek war and brought much honor to Junaluska
and his valiant Cherokee army of more than 500 men.
For the terrors which followed the battle of Horseshoe Bend, we
have only to refer to history to be able to ascertain the facts
concerning the bloody atrocities which were perpetrated upon an
oppressed people. Then came the end, which occurred in the year 1838,
which culminated in the removal of the band to the Indian Territory,
which is now called Oklahoma, (a Choctaw word meaning red people,
Okla, people; homa, red).
This removal was the most luckless and recreant of all the abuses
that had been heaped upon the brave but helpless band of Cherokee.
Junaluska, who witnessed the removal, but was permitted to remain with
the residue, remarked that had he known that General Jackson (who
became President), would have removed the Cherokee in such a brutal
manner, he would have killed him at the battle of Horseshoe Bend.
The history of the removal of the Cherokee, as told by James Mooney
of the Department of American Ethnology, gleaned by him from eye
witnesses and actors in the tragedy, may well exceed in weight of
grief and pathos any other act in American history. Even the much
sung song of the exile of the Arcadians falls far behind it in the
sum of death and misery.
Under General Winfield Scott, an army of 5,000 volunteers and regular
troops were concentrated in the Cherokee country, and by instruction
from Washington, D. C., he was directed and gave orders to soldiers to
gather all Indians to the various stockades, which had been previously
prepared for their reception. From these posts, squads of soldiers
were sent to search out, with rifle and bayonet, every small cabin
which could be found within the ramifications and deep recesses of the
great Appalachian range of mountains, and bring to the forts every man,
woman and child to be found within the gates of the granite hills.
Families, while sitting peacefully at the noon-day meal; others
while performing the matutinal ablution, were suddenly startled by
the gleam of bayonets and with blows, curses and oaths from the men
called soldiers, the Indians were driven like cattle from their humble
homes down the rugged mountain paths, and their houses in many cases
were burned and their small possessions destroyed, as the brave but
defenceless Cherokee people looked on with that wonderful stoicism
which no other race of men ever possessed.
Men were seized in the fields, women torn from the wheel and the
distaff, and children frightened from the pleasures of play. The
vandals who followed in the wake of the soldiery, looting and
pillaging, burning and destroying, yet calling themselves civilized
Christians, were such a band of outlaws as is seldom seen even among
the most savage and barbaric races.
Even Indian graves were robbed of the silver pendants and other
valuables which had been deposited with the dead. Women who were not
able to go, were actually forced at the point of a bayonet to march
with the same speed as men.
Upon one occasion the soldiers surrounded the house of an old Christian
patriot, who when informed as to what was to take place, called his
wife, children and grandchildren around him, kneeling down among them
offered a last prayer in the sanctuary of his home, in his native
tongue, while the soldiers stood astonished, looking on in silence.
When his devotions were finished, he arose, bade the household follow
him, and he led them into exile, with that becoming Christian fortitude
which is seldom witnessed among men.
One woman, on finding the house surrounded, went to the door and called
up the chickens, fed them for the last time, bade them farewell,
then taking her baby upon her back, she extended her hands to her
other two small children, then followed her husband into exile,
from whence she never returned.
A Georgia volunteer, who afterwards became a Colonel in the Confederate
service, said, "I have fought through the Civil War and have seen
men shot to pieces and slaughtered by the thousands, but the Cherokee
removal was the most cruel work I ever witnessed."
All were not thus so submissive. One old man named Tsali, "Charlie,"
was seized, with his wife, his brother, his three sons and their
families; exasperated at the brutality accorded his wife, who being
unable to travel fast, was prodded with the bayonets to hasten her
steps, he urged the other men to join him in a dash for liberty, and
as he spoke in Cherokee, the soldiers, although they heard, understood
nothing until each warrior suddenly sprang upon the soldier nearest
and endeavored to wrench his gun from him. The attack was so sudden
and unexpected that one soldier was killed and the rest fled, while
the Indians escaped to the mountains. Hundreds of others, some of
them from the various stockades, managed also to escape to the hills
and mountains from time to time, where those who did not die from
starvation subsisted on roots and wild berries until the hunt was over.
Finding that it was impossible to secure these fugitives, General Scott
finally tendered them a proposition, through Colonel W. H. Thomas,
known as Wil-Usdi in Cherokee, their trusted friend and chief, that
if they would bring Charlie and his party for punishment, the rest
would be allowed to remain until their case could be adjusted by
the Government.
On hearing of the proposition, Charlie voluntarily came in with his
sons, offering himself as a sacrifice for his people.
By command of General Scott, Charlie, his brother and the two elder
sons were shot, near the mouth of Tuckaseigee river, a detachment
of Cherokee prisoners being compelled to do the shooting in order to
impress upon the Indians the fact of their utter helplessness.
From those fugitives thus permitted to remain, originated the present
eastern band of Cherokee.
When nearly 17,000 Cherokee had been gathered into the stockades,
the removal began.
Early in June several parties, aggregating about five thousand persons,
were brought down by the troops to the old agency on Hiwassee river,
at the present Calhoun, Tenn., and to Ross landing (now Chattanooga,
Tenn.) and to Gunter's landing (now Guntersville, Ala.) lower down on
the Tennessee, where they were put upon steamers and transported down
the Tennessee and Ohio to the farther side of the Mississippi, whence
their journey was continued by land to Indian Territory (now Oklahoma).
The removal in the the hottest part of the year was attended with so
great sickness and mortality that, by resolution of the Cherokee
National Council, John Ross and the other chiefs submitted to
General Scott a proposition that the Cherokee be allowed to remove
themselves in the fall, after the sickly season ended. This was
granted on condition that all should have started by the 20th of
October, except the sick and aged, who might not be able to move so
rapidly. Accordingly, officers were appointed by the Cherokee council
to take charge of the emigration; the Indians being organized into
detachments averaging one thousand each, with two leaders in charge
of each department, and a sufficient number of wagons and horses for
the purpose.
In this way the remainder, enrolled at about 13,000, (including
a few negro slaves), started on the long march overland late in
the fall. Those who thus emigrated under the management of their
own officers, assembled at Rattlesnake Springs, near the present
Charleston, Tenn., where a final council was held, in which it was
decided to continue their old constitution and laws in their new
home. Then, in October, 1838, the long procession of exiles was
set in motion. A few went by the river route, but nearly all went
overland. Crossing, to the north side of the Hiwassee river, at a
ferry above Gunter's Creek, they proceeded down along the river,
the sick, aged and children, together with their belongings, being
hauled in wagons, the rest on foot or on horses.
It was like an army, 645 wagons, regiment after regiment, the wagons
in the center, the officers along the line, and the horsemen on the
flank and at the rear.
Tennessee river was crossed at Tucker's ferry, a short distance
above Jolly's Island, at the mouth of Hiwassee; thence the route
lay south of Pikeville, through McMinnville, and on to Nashville,
where the Cumberland was crossed.
They then went on to Hopkinsville, where the noted chief White Path, in
charge of a detachment, sickened and died. His people buried him by the
roadside, with a box over the grave and poles with streamers around it,
that the others coming on behind might note the spot and remember him.
Somewhere along that march of death--for the exiles died by tens and
twenties every day of the journey--the devoted wife of the noted chief,
John Ross, sank down and died, leaving him to go on with bitter pain
of bereavement added to the heartbreak at the ruin and desolation of
his nation.
The Ohio was crossed at a ferry near the mouth of the Cumberland,
and the army passed on through southern Illinois until the great
Mississippi was reached, opposite Cape Girardean, Missouri. It
was now the middle of winter, with the river running full of ice,
so that several detachments were obliged to wait some time on the
eastern bank for the channel to become clear.
Information furnished by old men at Tahlequah after the lapse of
fifty years showed that time had not sufficed to wipe out the memory
of the miseries of that halt beside the frozen river, with hundreds
of sick and dying penned up in wagons or stretched upon the ground,
with only a blanket overhead to keep out the January blast.
The crossing was at last made, in two divisions, at Cape Girardean and
Green's ferry, a short distance below, whence the march was continued
on through Missouri to Indian Territory, the later detachment making
a northerly circuit by Springfield, because those who had gone before
had killed off all the game along the direct route.
They had started in October, 1838, and it was now March, 1839, the
journey having occupied nearly six months of the hardest part of
the year.
It is difficult to state positively as to the mortality and loss by
reason of the removal of this once happy nation, but as near as can
be ascertained, more than four thousand persons perished along the
great highway of death.
On the arrival in Indian Territory, the exiles at once set about
building houses and planting crops, the government having agreed under
treaty to furnish them rations for one year after arrival. They were
welcomed by their kindred, the "Old Settlers," who held the country
under previous treaties of 1828 and 1833. These, however, being
already regularly organized under a government and chiefs of their
own, were by no means disposed to be swallowed by the governmental
authority of the newcomers.
Jealousies developed, in which the minority or treaty party of the
emigrants, headed by Major Ridge, took sides with the old settlers
against John Ross of the National party, which outnumbered the others
nearly three to one.
While these differences were at their height, the Nation was thrown
into a fever of excitement by the news that Major Ridge, his son,
John Ridge, and Elias Boudinot--all leaders of the treaty party--had
been killed by adherents of the National party, immediately after
the adjournment of a general council, which had adjourned after
nearly two weeks of debate without having been able to bring about
harmonious action. Major Ridge was waylaid and shot near the Arkansas
line, his son was taken from bed and cut to pieces with hatchets,
while Boudinot was treacherously killed at his home at Park Hill,
Indian Territory, all three being killed upon the same day, June 22,
1839, which date marks the decline and fall of a once great and happy
people. For fifty years which followed this luckless day in June,
Indian Territory became a veritable theater of crime and disorder.
From the South meridian of the sunflower state, to the cypress
banks of the Red river, and from Fort Smith to the shifting sands of
the great plains, for half a century sheltered a coterie of actors
that would have made Robin Hood or Kit Carson blush with envy. The
soil of the five tribes has been moistened with human blood when
there was none to answer the cry for vengeance; when no sound save
the deadly snap of the Winchester and the pit-pat of the bronchos'
hoofs were there to bear testimony. Now, those who incited intrigue
and murder are gone, the desperado is a thing of the past, the brave
men who enlisted in the hazardous governmental service to give them
battle have disappeared, and the sound of the firing Winchester used
in deadly conflict, has been replaced by the reaper and the mower,
and toilers in the field of commerce and industry.
The Indian tribe has been supplanted by the American Government;
and the school and church have taken the place of the chase and the
feud. Where the wild flowers nodded far out on the lonely plain,
vast fields of wheat and corn whisper the great name of Oklahoma.
At this writing the eastern band of Cherokee is about to be dissolved,
their lands allotted, and in a few more decades the Cherokee will
have passed, and the name will be presented only in old records and
in the hearts of their descendants.
PART II
OCCONEECHEE
OCCONEECHEE,
The Maid of the Mystic Lake,
by Robert Frank Jarrett.
I.
Far away beneath the shadows
Of the towering Smoky range,
In the Western North Carolina,
Comes a story true, but strange;
Of a maiden and her lover,
Of the tribe of Cherokee,
And she lived far up the mountain,
Near the hills of Tennessee.
Far above the habitation
Of the white man, and the plain,
Lived the dark-eyed Indian maiden,
Of the Junaluska strain;
Junaluska, chief, her father,
Occoneechee was his pride,
In the lonely little wigwam,
High upon the mountain side.
There the stream Oconaluftee
Hides its source far from the eye,
Of the white man in his rovings,
Far upon the mountain high;
And the forest land primeval,
Roamed by doe and wandering bear,
And the hissing, coiling serpent,
Was no stranger to them there.
Catamount and mountain-boomer
Sprang from cliff-side into trees,
And the eagle, hawk and vulture
Winged their course on every breeze.
At the footfall of this maiden
Sped the gobbler wild and free,
From the maiden Occoneechee
Flitted butterfly and bee.
Occoneechee, forest dweller,
Lived amid the scene so wild;
In the simple Indian manner
Lived old Junaluska's child.
Streams of purest limpid water
Gushed forth o'er the rock below,
And the trout and silver minnow
Dwelt in water, cold as snow.
Occoneechee's Mother Qualla
Passed away from earth to God,
When this maiden was a baby
And was covered by the sod.
High upon the rugged mountain,
Far above the haunts of men,
With their burdens and their sorrows,
And their load of care and sin.
Thus the maiden knew no mother,
Knew no love as most maids know,
Heard no song, as sung by mother,
Softly, sweetly, plaintive, slow.
When the twilight came at evening,
And the wigwam fire was lit,
And the bearskin robe was spread out
Upon which they were to sit,
Junaluska wept his Qualla,
Wept the lover who had flown,
For she was the only lover
That this chieftain's heart had known;
And at night, there was no lover
To sit by him on the rug,
Made of skins of bear and woodchuck,
In the wigwam, crude but snug.
And at times he'd stand at evening,
When the sun was setting low,
And would watch with adoration
Shifting clouds and scenes below;
And his soul would want to wander
Where the clime of setting sun
Would reveal his long lost Qualla,
When his work of life was done.
And the tears would fill his eyelids,
And emotion shake his frame,
When he thought of her departed,
Or some friend would speak her name.
And he'd call on God the spirit,
When he'd see the golden glow
Of the radiant splendid sunset,
Where he ever longed to go.
Then he'd think of Occoneechee,
In her adolescent years,
How she needed his protection
There to drive away her fears.
Then he'd cease his deep repining,
And his wailing and his grief,
For her future and her beauty
Brought the chieftain's heart relief.
Though the life of Occoneechee
Was one lonely strange career,
And the solitude and silence
Made the romance of it drear,
While the wildness of the forest,
With the animals that roam,
And the birds in great profusion
Cheered her little wigwam home,
Yet her spirit, like the eagle's,
Longed to soar off and be free
From the wilds of gorge and mountain,
Stream and cliff and crag and tree.
And one day there came a red man
Wandering up the mountain side,
From the vale Oconaluftee
Which was every Indian's pride.
Tall and handsome, agile runner,
And the keenness of his eye
Did betray his quick perception
To the casual passer-by.
Hair hung down in long black tresses,
Far below his shoulder-blade,
And the brilliant painted feathers
By the passing winds were swayed.
And the arrows in his quiver
Tipped with variegated stone,
And the tomahawk and war knife,
All the weapons he had known;
Yet he knew all of their uses,
None could wield with greater skill
Tomahawk or knife or arrow,
Than this wandering Whippoorwill.
Occoneechee, sitting lonely,
In a shady little nook,
Near the opening, by the wigwam,
And the babbling crystal brook;
She was bathing feet and ankles,
Arms and hands she did refresh,
In the iridescent splendor
Of the fountain cool and fresh.
Whippoorwill, the wandering warrior,
Spied the maiden by the pool,
'Neath the spreading tree above her,
By the limpid stream so cool;
Then he ventured there to tarry,
Watch and linger in the wild,
Near the maiden and the fountain,
Watch this forest-dwelling child.
Though a warrior, brave, undaunted
By the fiercest, wildest foe,
In the battle's hardest struggle,
Chasing bear and buck and doe;
For his life was used to hardships,
Scaling mountains in the chase,
Yet he ne'er was known to falter
'Mid the hottest of the race.
But he now was moved by caution
To approach, with greatest care,
The unknown maid, there before him,
And the scene so rich and rare;
And his brave heart almost failed him
As he comes up to her side,
And obeisance makes he to her,
E'er the chieftain she espied.
Occoneechee sprang up quickly
From the rock moss-covered seat,
All abashed, but lithe and nimble
Were her ankles and her feet.
"O-I-see-you," were the greetings
They exchanged spontaneously,
As they moved off together.
Occoneechee leads the way,
To the quiet little wigwam,
Where old Junaluska dwells
With the maiden Occoneechee,
And for whom his heart up-wells.
Spreading out the flowing doe-skin
Flat upon the earthen floor,
Occoneechee and the warrior
Sat and talked the chases o'er.
Sat and talked of bear and venison,
Sat and smoked the calumet.
These the greetings of the warrior,
When the maiden first he met.
Whippoorwill, the wandering warrior,
Tarried for a night and day,
Tarried long within the wigwam,
And was loath to go away,
For the maid and Junaluska
To the warrior were so kind,
That 'twere hard among the tribesmen
Such a generous clan to find.
But at dawn upon the morrow,
Whippoorwill must wend his way
From old Junaluska's wigwam,
For too long had been his stay.
Kind affection, Junaluska
Gave to parting Whippoorwill,
As he sauntered from the wigwam,
Wandering toward the rugged rill.
Now the silence so unbroken
Starts a tear-drop in each eye,
And the gentle passing zephyr
Gathered up the lover's sigh,
And the sighs were borne to heaven,
Like as lovers' sighs ascend,
As the good angelic zephyrs
Bear the message, friend to friend.
Now each heart was sore and lonely,
Sad the parting lovers feel,
Yet the hopes of love's devotion
Deep into each life did steal.
And when Whippoorwill had left them,
Good old Junaluska said
To his daughter Occoneechee,
"Would you like this brave to wed?"
Occoneechee, timid maiden,
Never thought of love before,
For she ne'er had spread the doe-skin
Wide upon the earthen floor,
For a warrior, brave as he was,
One possessed of skill so rare,
With his tomahawk and war knife,
And such long black raven hair;
And she knew not how to answer,
Though she felt as lovers do,
When they plight their deep devotion
To each other to be true.
"Occoneechee! child of wild woods,
I am growing old and gray,
And I feel I soon must leave you,
Though I grieve to go away.
I can feel the hand of time, child,
Pressing down upon my head,
And I know it won't be long now
Till I'm resting with the dead.
"I can hear your mother calling,
Sweetly, gently, calling me,
Beckoning from the golden sunset,
And she calls also for thee.
'Twas just last night she stood beside me,
While you lay there sound asleep,
And she called me, 'Junaluska!'
And her voice caused me to weep.
"And she said, 'Dear Junaluska,
I have come to tell you where
You will find me at the portals
Of the Lord's house over there.
I will be among the blessed,
Be with angels up on high.
Have no fears of Death's dark river,
Be courageous till you die.'
"Then she stood and sang a message
O'er you in your lonely bed,
For a moment, then departed;
And I called, but she had fled.
Yet I daily hear her sweet voice,
And I see her image there,
As she calls us unto heaven,
'Mid the pleasures, O, so rare.
"And I soon shall cross the river,
And will join her on the strand,
With immortals long departed,
In the fair, blest, happy land.
When I'm gone you'll need protection,
By a brave who knows no fear,
And when sorrows overflow you,
One to wipe away the tear.
"Then I'll watch and wait with Qualla,
With the chiefs and warriors brave,
Who have joined the tribe eternal,
Conquered death, hell and the grave.
I shall watch then for your coming,
And I'll tell the mighty throng
That you're coming in the future,
And we'll greet you with the song,
"That the seraphs sing in glory,
Casting gem crowns at the feet,
Praising Him who reigns forever
On the grand tribunal seat."
As he talked his voice grew weaker,
And his hand grew very chill,
Then the moisture crowned his forehead,
And his pulse was deathly still.
Then she knew that her dear mother
And the great chiefs that had been
Had op'ed the gate of heaven wide
To let another brave chief in.
Then she sobbed out for her father,
As a broken-hearted child
Will for loved ones just departed,
Left so lonely in the wild.
But the dead, too soon forgotten,
Now lies buried by the side
Of his much lamented Qualla,
Once his sweet and lovely bride,
While their spirits dwell together,
Free from care and want and pain,
Where the tempest full of sorrow
Ne'er can reach their souls again.
Years had flown since Occoneechee
Saw her loving Whippoorwill,
High upon the Smoky Mountain,
Near the crystal rippling rill;
For the white man had transported
Brave and squaw and little child
Far away to Oklahoma,
To the western hills so wild.
Some had gone to the Dakotas,
Some had gone to Mexico,
Some had joined the tribe eternal;
All were going, sure but slow.
For the white man's occupation,
Cherokee must give their land,
And must give up all possessions,
Go and join some other band.
Yet a residue of tribesmen
Were allowed here to remain,
'Mid the mountains and the forest,
And the meadows and the plain,
But the strong men and the warriors,
Most of them had gone away,
Far across the mighty mountains
Toward the closing of the day.
General Jackson's men in blue coats
Came and took away the braves,
Took away the squaw and papoose,
Buried many in their graves,
Yet the residue triumphant,
Roamed out in the forest wild,
Without shelter, food or comfort,
For decrepid chief and child.
Sad and weary, long and dreary,
Moved the Cherokee out West,
With their store of skins and venison,
And the trinkets they possessed.
Up across the Smoky Mountains,
Rough and rugged trail and road,
Lined by rhododendron blossoms,
Close beside where Lufty flowed.
When they down the gorge descended,
Winding toward the Tennessee,
Branch and bough o'erhead were bending
And no landscape could they see,
And the labyrinthian footway
Led through forests dense and dark
And the air was sweetly laden
With the bruised birchen bark;
Hemlocks tall and swaying gently
In the sighing passing breeze,
And the fir and spreading balsam
Joined the cadence of the trees.
At the base of birch and hemlock
Flowed the Pigeon fierce and bold,
With its water clear as crystal,
And its fountains icy cold;
Flowed the dauntless rapid waters,
Fresh and pure and ever free,
Rushed o'er cataract and cascade,
Ever onward toward the sea.
Whippoorwill, the wandering warrior,
Shorn of power and of pride,
Marched in single file and lonely,
With his hands behind him tied.
Hands were bound with thongs and fetters--
Thongs and fetters could not hold
Brave so gallant young and noble
As this valiant warrior bold.
For his thoughts of Occoneechee,
Who was left far, far behind,
With the residue of women,
Stirred his brave heart and his mind.
On and on for days they traveled
By the stream whose silver flow,
From the great high Smoky Mountains,
Became silent now and slow;
For the rocks and rising ridges,
Once their progress did impede,
Now were fading in the distance,
Could not now retard their speed.
And the journey, long and tedious,
Wore the women, wore the brave,
And they sore and much lamented,
To be bound as serf or slave;
For their free-born spirits never
Had been bound by man before,
Till the blue-coat Jackson soldier
Came and dragged them from their door.
Corn was blooming on the lowlands
When the journey they betook,
And the grass gave much aroma,
By the laughing Soco brook;
But the suns and moons oft waning
Brought the moon of ripening corn
To a nation, broken-hearted,
With a doubting hope forlorn.
Level lands brought no enchantment
To a people who had known
Naught but freedom till the present,
Whose utopian dream had flown;
Flown as flows the radiant river,
Flown as flows the hopes of youth,
From the red man of the forest.
They were no more free, forsooth.
By and by the Father Waters
Came in view of brave and squaw,
And the skiff and side-wheel steamer
Were the shifting scenes they saw,
Plying fast the Father Waters,
With a current slow and still,
And reverberating whistles
Shrieked a medley loud and shrill.
And the ferryboat was busy,
Plying fast the liquid wave
Of the Father Water's current,
Bearing squaw and chief and brave,
Till the last brave Indian warrior
Crossed the Father Waters' tide,
Crossed the gentle flowing river,
With its current deep and wide.
Then they rested from their journey,
Rested for a little while,
On the bluff above the river,
Where they saw her laughing smile.
They could see the sun at morning
Rise up quickly from his rest,
See him hasting to his zenith,
Soon to go down in the west.
Then the winter came on quickly,
Killing corn and grass and cane,
And the wind brought cloudy weather,
With its snow and mist and rain,
And the tribe within the barracks
Were disheartened, one and all.
And they longed now for their Lufty,
With its cascade and its fall.
But at last the genial sunshine
Took away the ice that froze
The corn of hope, from the tribesmen,
And the chilly wind that blows,
Along the valley, of the river,
Over bog and prairie, too;
And an order came with springtime,
"You the journey must renew."
Then they rose up in the morning,
Rose before the dawn of day,
Rolled and tied the tents together,
And were quickly on their way,
On their way to Oklahoma,
Out across Missouri land,
Chief and squaw and wary warrior,
Marched the Cherokee brave band.
To the western reservation,
Where the bison and the owl,
And the she-wolf, fox and serpent
Writhe and roam and nightly prowl;
This the country where they took them,
This the country that they gave
In exchange for their own country,
To the chief and squaw and brave.
Leaving all they loved behind them,
Leaving all to them most dear,
And they settled there so lonely,
In a country dry and drear;
There to pine away in sorrow,
And repining, die of grief;
From the solitude and silence
Of this land there's no relief.
II.
Amid the hills of Carolina,
Hills impregnant with rich bliss,
With their grots and groves and fountains,
Hills that love-beams love to kiss;
Roamed the dark, but pretty maiden,
Occoneechee, lovely child,
Roamed she far out in the mountains,
'Mid their solitude so wild.
Dreamed she oft here, as she rambled,
Of her warrior Whippoorwill,
Of her lover, long her lover,
Whom she first met near the rill,
High upon the Smoky Mountains,
Where the sunset's afterglow
Holds the secrets of Dame Nature
From the sons of men below.
Occoneechee sought her lover,
Down Oconaluftee's vale,
Through the brush and tangled wildwood,
Without compass, chart or trail,
Where the river Tuckaseigee
Dashes down its rocky bed,
Near a trail long since deserted,
Over which a tribe once sped.
Then she wandered down the river,
On and on, as on it flows,
Wades the river, wades its branches,
Follows it where'er it goes
Through the laurel brush and ivy,
Over spreading beds of fern,
Over rock moss-covered ledges,
Follows every winding turn,
Till it flows into the river,
Called the Little Tennessee,
Here she lingers long and tarries,
And she strains her eyes to see
If her vision will reveal him,
And abates her breath to hear
The voice of Whippoorwill, her lover,
One of all to her most dear.
Yet no sound came to relieve her,
And no vision came to please,
And it never dawned upon her,
Here among the virgin trees,
That her lover was transported,
With the brave and chief and child
To the land of Oklahoma,
Land so lonely, weird and wild.
Up the stream she then ascended,
Slowly, surely did she march,
'Neath the spreading oak and hemlock,
Resting oft beneath their arch.
Walls of solid spar and granite
Roared their heads up toward the blue,
But no wall or hill or river
Could impede the maiden true.
She now reached the Nantahala,
Picturesque in every way,
And she rested 'neath the shadow
Of the mountain tall and gray;
High the mountain, clear the water,
That comes rushing down the side
Of the mountain from the forest
With its unpolluted tide.
Speckled beauties swam the water,
Swam as only they can do;
Deer in herds roamed all the forest,
Only Cherokees were few.
Eagles, swift upon their pinions,
Soared aloft upon the air,
They would turn their eyes to heaven,
Then down on the maiden fair,
As to guard her in her roaming,
For she had no other guide,
Save one squaw and constellation,
And the racing river tide.
Birds had ceased their long migration,
Not a cloud disturbed the blue
Of the canopy of heaven,
And the country they passed through.
Nightingale and thrush and robin
Mated, sang and dwelt serene,
In the forest, by the river,
With its banks so fresh and green,
And each spoke to Occoneechee,
In the language Nature gives,
Of the flora and the fauna,
Where the child of Nature lives.
Then she rambled through the mountains,
To the summit, grand and high,
Where Tusquittee's bald and forest
Penetrates the cloudless sky.
Unobstructed vision reaches
'Cross the Valley River, wide,
To the Hiawassee river,
Flowing in its lordly pride.
Here the panorama rises
In its beauty grand and gay,
As you linger on the summit,
As you hesitating stay;
Visions long out in the distance;
Haunt you with enchanted smile,
And the reverie of Nature
Doth the wanderer beguile.
Valleytown, the Indian village,
And Aquone, the camping ground,
Cheoas vale within the distance,
Once where Cherokee were found,
Came within the easy focus
Of the trained observant eye
Of the maiden on the mountain,
Near the clearest vaulted sky.
Occoneechee looked and wondered,
Scanned the mountain, scanned the vale,
And she lifted up her voice there,
And began to weep and wail;
For her lover, long departed,
For her lover brave and true,
And she wondered if he tarried
In the reaches of her view.
Still no sight or sound revealed him,
Beauty smiled and smiled again,
As she sighed and prayed to Nature,
Yet her anxious thoughts were vain.
For the valley and the mountain,
And the river and the rill,
Separated Occoneechee
From her lover Whippoorwill.
Then she to the Hiawassee,
Wound the mountain-side and vale,
And she made a boat of hemlock,
And she left the mountain trail,
And she launched the boat of hemlock
On the Hiawassee tide,
Launched the boat and went within it,
Down the silver stream to glide.
Down the river set with forest,
Nottely joins the quickened pace
Of the river and the maiden,
In their onward rapid race,
And she passes through the narrows,
Through the narrows quick she flew,
Through the spray and foaming current,
With her long hemlock canoe.
Faster sped the boat of hemlock,
Past the mountains and the shoal,
Past the inlet Conasauga,
Where Okoee waters roll;
Here she stopped to make inquiry
Of a relegated brave.
If he'd seen her wandering lover,
In the forest, by the wave.
Then she left the boat of hemlock,
Roamed the forest far and wide,
Crossed the mountain streams and fountains,
With their cliff and foaming tide,
Followed far Okoee river,
Toccoa laves her weary feet,
Ellijay and Coogawattee
Do the pretty maiden greet.
Not a word in all her wanderings
Did she hear of Whippoorwill,
Though she roamed through leagues of forest,
And by many a rippling rill.
Candy creek and Oostanula,
Both were followed to their source,
With their winding current flowing
In their ever onward course.
Where the brave had traveled with her,
And had told her many tales
Of the wars he'd been engaged in,
And the windings of the trails,
Over which the tribe had traveled
In the years that long had flown,
And the land now held by strangers,
Which his tribe once called their own.
And at evening in the autumn,
When the leaves turn brown and red,
And the hickory and the maple
Gild with yellow as they shed,
And the poplar and the chestnut,
And the beech and chinquapin,
Hide the squirrel and the pheasant
From the sight of selfish men;
Where the grapevine climbs the alder,
Clings with tendril to the pine,
And the air is sweetly laden
With rich odors from the vine;
And the walnut and the dogwood
Furnish dainties rich and rare,
For the chipmunk and the partridge,
Which perchance do wander there.
Where the otter slide is slickened,
And the weasel and the mink
Do come creeping down the river,
There to bathe and fish and drink,
And the red fox roams the forest,
And defies the fleetest hound,
And the panther in the forest
Makes a hideous screaming sound.
Here the brave would sit and tell them
Tales and myths told oft before,
Tales of war and of adventure,
By great chiefs now known no more;
And one night they heard the shrieking
Of a wildcat near the stream,
That awakened them from slumber
And disturbed their peaceful dream;
For a panther, fierce and fearless,
Had come creeping down the side
Of the cliffs far up the mountain,
Near the Hiawassee tide,
And they met down near the river,
And they fought down near the stream,
And they made the night grow hideous
With their awful shrieks and scream.
Then she took her boat of hemlock,
And they launched it on the wave,
And they sat upon its gunnels,
Occoneechee squaw and brave,
And they pushed out in the current,
Where the waves were rolling high,
And the boat sped through the rapids,
Fast as flocks of pigeons fly.
Pushed they down and ever onward
Toward the placid Tennessee,
To the island and the inlet
Of the rolling Hiawassee.
Here they camped o'er night and rested,
Told they tales of long ago,
With their memories and sorrows
Breathed they out their care and woe.
Then they floated down the river,
On its smooth, unrippled tide.
To the creek of Chicamauga,
Where so many braves had died.
And they tented near the river,
Tied their boat up to the bank,
Where John Ross had crossed the river,
Where his ferryboat once sank.
Wandered through the vale of dryness,
Chattanooga's pretty flow,
Clear as crystal, pure as sunbeams,
Winding hither too and fro.
Drank the waters, bathed they in it,
Fished and hunted stream and plain,
Where the buffalo once wandered,
But where none now doth remain.
Like a serpent that is crawling,
Wriggling, writhing, resting not,
Fleeing from a strange invader
To some lone secluded spot,
Winds and curves and turns forever,
In its course that has no end,
Swings to starboard and to larboard,
Round the Moccasin's great bend.
Flows the river on forever,
By the nodding flowering tree,
Shedding fragrance like a censer,
Flows the pretty Tennessee;
On her bosom's crest is carried
Precious burdens, rich and rare,
From the fertile fields about her,
And the ozone-laden air.
Occoneechee squaw and warrior
Rode the silver-flowing tide,
in the boat made out of hemlock,
Which so long had been their pride;
But the time now came for parting,
As must come in every life,
That is heir to human nature,
With its toil and woe and strife.
Here Sequatchie's fertile valley,
They approached and must ascend,
Like the cloud before the sunbeam,
Driven by the fiercest wind;
Then they hid the boat of hemlock,
Sure and safe, then bade adieu,
To the boat upon the river,
Which had been their friend so true.
Then they mounted little ponies,
Fresh and sleek and fat and fast,
And they sped along the valley,
Like the birds upon the blast,
Looking for the handsome warrior,
Looking hither, glancing there,
And quite often on the journey,
They would stop to offer prayer;
But the valley held the secret;
Not a living man could wrest,
From the valley rich and fertile,
Secrets buried in its breast;
Though the tribe had ceased to own it,
Though the tribe had passed away,
From the valley of Sequatchie,
Like the fading of the day,
Still the signs and many tokens
Told a tale of war and strife,
Where the whites had used the rifle,
And the braves had used the knife,
For the bleaching bones of warriors
Were discovered everywhere,
And the hideous sight brought sorrow,
To this maiden now so fair,
Birds were singing in the forest,
Merrily and full of glee,
And a symphony unrivaled
Flooded forestland and lea;
With the mellow tones from singers,
Varied, versatile and sweet,
Came from forest and from meadow,
Came the attuned ear to greet.
And when evening shade would settle,
And the moon full rose to view,
And the zephyrs filled the valley,
And the flowers suffused with dew,
Then the nightingale would lure them
Or the mockingbird hold sway,
From the advent of Orion,
Till the dawning of the day.
Stretching meadows lay before them,
Rich with fragrance, rare with flowers,
Variegated blending colors
Lent a rapture to its bowers,
That outstripped the fields elysian,
Decked with Nature's rarest guise,
Pleasure-house for wisest sages,
Such as only fools despise.
Such the scenes within the valley,
As they joyous sped along,
Filled with rapture, filled with pleasure,
At the scenery and the song.
Nature clapped her hands exultant,
In the sylvan groves so green,
Where the Goddess Proserpina
Was enthroned majestic queen.
Mighty warriors red with passion,
Once had trod this virgin soil,
And had rested in the valley,
When o'ercome by heat and toil;
Sportive maidens once delighted
To engage in dance and song,
With the warriors in the valley,
With the chieftains brave and strong.
But the mighty men and maidens
Long since ceased this land to roam,
Since the pale face armed with power,
Killed the braves and burned the home,
Took the land and burned the wigwam,
Bound the chief and drove away,
All the warriors, squaws and maidens,
Toward the golden close of day.
Happy children, wild with rapture,
Laughed with ecstasy and glee,
Once had filled the vale with echoes,
And had sported lithe and free,
All along the hill-locked valley,
Played lacrosse and strung the bow,
Ran the races, caught the squirrel,
In the distant long ago.
Sped they like the rolling torrent,
Thru the Appalachian chain,
With its towering peaks and gorges,
'Mid its sunshine and its rain,
Sped along the flowing Chuckey,
With its reddened banks of clay,
Were delighted by its beauty,
Were enticed with it to stay;
Saw the rushing, rolling waters
Fall and foam and seeth below,
Saw the cascade of Watauga
Surging hither to and fro;
Looked with tireless vision upward,
Viewed from summits high and proud,
Landscapes grander than Olympus,
With their crags above the cloud.
"Occoneechee," said the warrior,
In a gentle tone, and mild,
"I remember all this grandeur,
Since I was a little child,
I have traveled trail and mountain,
Chased Showono, deer and bear,
Crossed Kentucky in the chases,
Seen the blue-grass state so fair.
Once while hotly, I pursuing,
Buck with antlers fierce and strong,
Came upon a band of white men,
With their rifles black and long,
Came a flash of rifle powder,
Quick as lightning came the sounds,
From reverberating rifles,
And the bark of baying hounds.
They had slain the buck with antlers,
And would be upon me soon,
If discovered by their captain,
By their captain, Daniel Boone;
He the hunter, Indian hater,
Chief and captain, pioneer,
Known to every tribe and tribesman,
To be destitute of fear.
Quick I back into the forest,
Without noise or slightest sound,
Lest perchance I draw attention,
From the hunter or his hound.
'Twas a wilderness of wildness,
Transylvania was its name,
Home of coon and hare and turkey,
And all sorts of kindred game.
Once the noble chiefs and warriors
Roamed Kentucky far and wide,
Far along the broad Ohio,
Strode the Indians by her tide;
And they camped and roamed the forest,
Dense and dark, supremely grand,
Dominated vale and forest,
Dominated all the land;
Chased the scouting bands of warriors,
Who would dare to camp and die,
On the soil of old Kentucky,
Where the meadow grass grew high;
Hiding 'neath the waving grasses,
Where the muskrat and the snake,
And the hedge hog and the weasel,
Lurked in shade of vine and brake.
I was with good Junaluska,
In the battles and the raids,
Where the Creek and the Showano
Lent each other all their aids,
When upon the Tallapoosa
River, at the Horseshoe bend,
We joined hands with General Jackson,
And by death we made an end,
Of the Creeks and all their allies,
Who assembled, one and all.
To resist our mighty forces,
They had built their mighty wall,
Built it strong and reinforced it,
Not a single spot was weak,
For 'twas built by master workmen,
By the tribesmen of the Creek.
When the work was strong and finished,
All the warriors came to dwell
In the fortress, by the river,
Came they tales of war to tell;
Came a thousand of the warriors,
With their weapons and their wives,
Came and lodged within the fortress,
Like the swarming bees in hives;
Brought their children and their chattels,
Brought they gun, and club and spear,
For they thought once in the fortress,
That they'd have no harm to fear,
But the Cherokee and Jackson
Brought out cannon great and small,
And they raised the siege of Horseshoe,
Throwing many a shell and ball;
Into fortress, into village,
Flew the missiles thick and fast,
Like the rain, among the rigging,
Of the sailor's spar and mast,
Crushing, crashing stone of fortress,
Making splinters of the wall,
Of the fortress by the river,
With the heavy cannon ball.
But it fell not in the fury
Of the battle's hottest fray,
Stood the test like old Gibraltar,
All the night and all the day,
And the progress was so slowly,
That the battle must be lost,
To the Cherokee and Jackson,
And so great would be the cost,
If some means were not discovered,
To dislodge the valiant Creek,
Now entrenched within the fortress,
Growing strong instead of weak.
Junaluska said to Jackson,
'Choose ye this day man or men,
Who can breast the tide before you,
Who will try to enter in;
Who can swim the Tallapoosa,
Who can stem the flowing tide,
Who are noble, strong and fearless,
And have God upon their side.
If you have such men among you,
Let them come forth one and all,
Let them dare to do their duty,
Let them dare to stand or fall.'
Not one man of all the white men
Could be found who dared to try
To o'ercome the Tallapoosa,
Or would risk his life to die.
So your guide whom God has given,
Volunteered to risk the wave,
With your father, Junaluska,
Volunteered, his tribe to save.
Then we sought our God in silence,
And became resigned to death,
That lay out upon the current
Of the river's silent breath.
Under cover of the darkness,
And the solitude of night,
We betook the awful peril,
With a tremor of delight.
Silently we now descended
To the deathlike river tide,
Following a star's reflection,
For a signboard and a guide;
To point out the right direction,
And to bring us into port,
Where the canoes lay at anchor,
Near the stolid silent fort.
Quick we loosed them from their moorings
Each man lashed beside his boat--
Quite a dozen, swift as arrows,
And we set them all afloat;
Shot them straight across the river,
Like a flash at lightning speed,
Faster than the fleetest greyhound,
Bounding like a blooded steed.
When we reached the army's landing,
Quick the boats were filled with men;
Like a thunderbolt from heaven,
Did the deadly work begin.
Transports glided o'er the current,
Like a shuttle to and fro,
Moving Cherokee and white men,
To confront a worthy foe.
Scaled the ramparts of the fortress,
Stormed the inner citadel,
And we massacred the inmates!
How? No human tongue can tell.
Not a woman, child or human
Made escape, but all were slain
In the fort or in the river,
Or upon the gory plain.
When the massacre and slaughter
Had abated, all the slain
Numbered more than a thousand,
In the fort or on the plain.
Many floated in the river,
Many died out in the woods,
And were buried in the forest,
By erosion or the floods.
Sad and silent stood the fortress,
All deserted and alone;
Not a man or child or matron,
Now was left to claim their own.
All the warriors and the chieftains
Died in conflict true and brave;
None were left to tell the story,
Or to mark some lonely grave.
Cruel man! O God, forgive them!
Pity such a cruel race.
In their stead, O God of nations,
Send some one to take their place,
Who is humane, who is human,
Who is honest, kind and true,
Who when given strength and power,
Destroys not, but spares a few.
In the lore of ancient nations,
In the tales of modern times,
In the prose that now remaineth,
Nor the poet's splendid rhymes,
Is a story told more cruel
Than the slaughter of the Creeks,
By the Persians, Jews or Romans,
Macedonians or Greeks;
Where a nation, like a shadow,
Vanished quickly and was not,
Like a vapor in the valley
Passes and is soon forgot.
Passes like a fleeing phantom,
Like a mist before the sun,
Came and tarried for a moment,
And forever was undone.
Occoneechee, come and travel,
To the distant mountains high,
Where the summit of the mountains,
Tower upward toward the sky.
Delectable the splendid mountains,
Rich in ferns forever green,
And the galaxy of the mountains
Are the rarest ever seen.
Mortal eyes have never witnessed,
Mortal tongue can never tell
Of the grandeur and the beauty
Of the ravine and the dell.
Strange declivities confront you,
Then a sudden upright wall
Rises like a mystic figure,
With a splendid waterfall.
I will take you to the summit
Of the mountains white with age,
And will show you where the tempests
Rush and roar with ceaseless rage,
Where phenomena electric
Makes mysterious display
Of their power and their beauty
In the distance far away;
You can see the flash of lightning,
And can hear the thunders roll,
With reverberating echoes,
That o'erwhelm your very soul,
Make you sigh and shake and shudder,
Make you tremble like a leaf,
Make you crouch in soul and body,
Like the life o'ercome with grief.
Yet you stand and gaze in wonder,
Watch the elements grown dark;
Adoration turns to terror,
At the least electric spark;
Vivid flashes light the heavens,
Keep them in perpetual glow,
Like aurora borealis
From beyond eternal snow.
God eternal sends the sunshine,
Melts the vapor, chains the cloud,
Cages up the lightning flashes,
Stops the peels of thunder loud.
Changes discord into music,
And the soul with it He thrills,
From the music on the mountains,
Made by leaping, laughing rills.
Look! behold the ray that cometh,
Fills the earth with hope again,
Dissipates the clouds and vapor,
With their shadows and their rain.
See the sunburst full of glory,
Shoot forth rays of gilt and gold,
Sung by bards, portrayed by artists
Yet its glory ne'er was told.
Painters fail to give description,
Fail on canvas to portray,
Rising sun within the mountains,
And the glorious dawn of day;
Sages, bards and humble poets,
All are pigmies in the eyes
Of the one who stands and watches
Sunshine from its sleep arise.
Picturesque! O scenes eternal!
From the dizzy, dizzy heights
Of Grandfather, Rone and Linville,
From which rivers take their flights.
Yadkin, Broad and the Catawbas,
Where the Indians used to roam,
Are the habitation only
Of the white man and his home.
High upon the Linville mountains
Creeps a silent silver stream,
From the shadows of the forest,
Like the splendor of a dream,
Then it runs amid the boulders,
Joins with many sparkling rills,
That comes rushing from the forest,
Of those high eternal hills,
Till its speed becomes augmented,
Till you hear the rushing sounds,
Of the Linville river raging,
As it leaps and falls and bounds,
As it dashes through the granite,
Falls into the natural pool,
Built by nature in the chasm,
With its water clear and cool.
In the Blue Ridge range of mountains
Stand a thousand spires and domes,
Built of adamant eternal,
From whose base the river roams,
Like the maiden Occoneechee,
Wanders out replete with tears,
Into strange lands, unto strangers,
Thru the lapse of passing years,
Longing to be reunited,
With her fiance forever,
From his presence and his wooing,
To be separated never.
Thus the river and the maiden
Rambled through the mountains wild,
Seeking for a long lost lover,
As a mother seeks her child.
Climbs the black dome of the mountain,
Richest pinnacle e'er seen;
And the landscape lay before her,
With its mounds and vales between.
Lends enchantment grand and gorgeous,
Gives a new lease unto life,
And you soon forget you're living
In a world of care and strife.
Thus Mount Mitchell in the Blue Ridge,
Zenith hill among the hills,
Sends forth life anew forever,
And a thousand rippling rills.
In the distance the Savannah's
Flows a stream of pure delight,
Flows she on, and on forever,
Never stopping day or night.
For her mission is a true one,
And the river ever true,
Rolls along the grandest valley,
That a river e'er rolled through;
Peopled by a population
Rich in soul and thought divine,
From her source up in the mountains,
Till her soul the sea entwines.
Turning to the sun that's setting,
Setting far beyond the rim,
Of the horizon of vision,
Where the eyes grow weak and dim,
You behold the Swannanoa,
Naiad, pure and fresh and sweet,
Crystalline, and cool and limpid,
Strays some other stream to greet.
From the cliffside in the mountains
Roll a thousand little streams,
Laughing as they greet each other,
Where the sunshine never beams;
Rippling, idling, swirling slowly,
Leaping down a waterfall,
You can hear the drops of water,
Sweetly to their compeers call.
Down the valley glides the river,
Murmuring a sad farewell,
To the birds and bees and people,
Who along its highway dwell;
Wishing them a happy future,
Wishing them prosperity,
While it fills its many missions
'Twixt the mountains and the sea.
Bathing rocks, refreshing people,
Casting up its silver spray,
As it glides along the valley,
Flows forever and for aye.
Men may move their tents and chattels,
Others die or go astray,
Still the stream flows fresh forever,
Never resting night or day.
Giving life unto the flowers,
Blooming on its verdant side,
As it travels, as it journeys,
As its ripples make their stride.
In the gloaming of the twilight,
When the birds had ceased to fly,
And the dazzling dome of heaven
Gave resplendence to the sky.
Occoneechee, squaw and warrior,
Watched the stream, as on it sped,
Rippling o'er the pebbly bottom,
Lying on its rocky bed;
Grasses waving green around them,
Nodding boughs bid them adieu,
And it wafted them caresses,
Like the sunbeams sparkling dew.
Precious fragrance filled the valley,
From the sweet shrub and the pine,
Luscious fruits and ripening melons
Lade the apple tree and vine.
All along the pretty valley,
Harvest fields and curing hay
Make the white man rich and happy,
Where the warriors used to stray.
At the juncture of the river,
Where the Indians used to dwell,
Where they made their pots of red clay,
Made them crude but made them well,
Here they tented long and hunted,
Fished the Tah-kee-os-tee stream,
Strolled along the racing river,
Where its rippling waters gleam.
Moons passed on, and yet no greetings
Came to cheer the wandering maid,
Who so long had sought her lover,
Till her hopes began to fade,
And she felt that she must hasten,
Quickly hasten thru the wild,
By the rapid river racing,
She the nature-loving child.
Then they took their little ponies,
Girt them with a roebuck hide,
Seated on the nimble ponies,
Started swiftly on the ride,
On to Toxaway the river,
On to Toxaway the lake,
Where the leaf of vine and alder,
Hide the muskrat and the snake.
All along the racing river,
Gorgeous forest trees are seen,
And the wild deer in the forest
Dwells beneath the coat of green.
Here the beaver, hare and turkey
Share their food and come to drink,
In the splendid spreading forest,
Near the Tah-kee-os-tee's brink.
Here they fished and caught the rainbow,
Caught the little mountain trout,
In the lake and in the river,
With their poles both crude and stout;
Caught the squirrel and the pheasant,
Chased the turkey, deer and bear,
Caught a-plenty, all they needed,
Yet they had not one to spare.
In the sapphire land they lingered
Many days and many nights,
On the mountains, 'mid the laurel,
Looking at the wondrous sights,
That will greet you in the mountains,
That you see in vales below,
As you tread the paths untrodden,
As you wander to and fro.
In the forest land primeval
Where the fountains form their heads,
Lies the famous vale of flowers,
Splendid valley of pink beds.
Every tribe and every hunter
Knows this lone secluded spot,
From the other vales so famous;
When once seen is ne'er forgot.
In this vale of flowers and sunshine,
Lies the Aidenn, most tranquil,
Where the sore and heavy-laden,
Gambol peacefully at will;
Hear the trill of distant music,
Played on Nature's vibrant chime,
Resonant with sweetest concord
All attuned to perfect time.
Here the weary, heavy-laden
Soul, may lose his load of care,
And the body, sick and wounded,
Find an answer to his prayer.
Precious incense here arises,
From the brasier of the vale
That ascends the lofty mountains,
By an unseen, trackless trail.
Pisgah stands, the peer and rival
Of Olympus, famed of old,
Where the gods met in their councils,
And their consultations held.
Looking far across the valleys,
They behold on either side,
Rivers, vales and gushing fountains,
Which forever shall abide.
In the distance stands eternal,
Junaluska's pretty mound,
Which in beauty of the landscape
Is the grandest ever found.
Rushing streams of purest water,
Giving off their silver spray,
Add a beauty to the forest,
In a new and novel way.
And the balsam peaks of fir tree
Looks like midnight in the day,
Looks like shadows in the sunshine,
In the fading far away.
Dense and dark and much foreboding
Apprehensions do declare,
To the one who sleeps beneath them
With its flood of balmy air.
"Occoneechee, forest dweller,
We have traveled many miles,
Through the mountains, o'er the valleys,
Where the face of Nature smiled;
We have tasted of the fountains,
Whence breaks forth the Keowee,
Nymph of beauty, joy and pleasure,
Once the home of Cherokee.
We have rested near the water,
Seen the fleck and shimmering flow,
Of the waters kissed by Nature,
Lovely river Tugaloo,
Where the Cherokee once rambled,
Spoiled 'mid the scenes so wild,
Where the forest and the river
Have the wood-gods oft beguiled.
Wandered o'er the sapphire country,
Land which doth the soul delight,
With its mounds and vales and rivers;
God ne'er made a holier site
For the human race to dwell in,
Where the human soul can rise,
Higher in its aspirations
Toward the rich Utopian skies"
Here the lyrics sung by Nature,
Played upon its strings of gold,
Float out on the evening breezes,
And its music ne'er grows old,
To the soul and life and spirit,
Which is bent and bowed with care.
This the sweetest land Elysian,
To the one who wanders there.
Convolutions of the lilies,
Tranquil bloom and curve and die,
Near the river, 'neath the shadows
Of the white pine, smooth and high.
Sparkling, gleaming in the sunlight
Bursts the water, pure and free,
From the rocks high on the mountains,
Once the home of Cherokee.
Dancing, rippling, roaring, rushing,
Comes Tallulah in its rage,
Like an eagle bounding forward,
From an exit in a cage.
In the distance, you behold it
Rise and babble, laugh and smile;
Then amid the reeds and rushes,
Turns and loiters for awhile.
Then it curves among the eddies,
Hastens on to meet the bend,
In the meadows, like the fragrance
Borne aloft upon the wind;
Silently reflecting sunbeams
To the distant verdant hill
From its surface calm and placid,
Smooth, untarnished little rill;
Gleams and glides accelerated,
As it gathers, as it grows,
As the brook becomes a river,
As it ever onward flows;
Swirls and turns and dashes downward,
Heaves and moans and dashes wild,
For a chasm down the canyon,
Like a lost, demented child;
Furious, frantic, leaps and lashes
Down into the great abyss,
Falls and foams and seethes forever
Where the rocks and river kiss.
Tallulah Falls, the work and wonder
Of the cycles and the age,
Pours its deluge down the ravine,
Unobstructed in its rage.
Flying fowls of evil omen,
Dare not stop it in its flight,
Lest the river overwhelm them
With its power of strength and might--
Lest the river dash to pieces
Bird or beast that would impede
Such a torrent as confronts you
With its force of fearful speed.
Then it rushes fast and furious
Into mist and fog and spray,
Rises like the ghost of Banquo,
Will not linger, stop nor stay.
O'er the precipice it plunges,
Bounds and surges down the steep,
As it gushes forth forever,
Toward the blue and boundless deep.
In the Appalachian mountains
Stands Satulah, high and proud,
With its base upon the Blue Ridge,
And its head above the cloud.
From its top the panorama
Rises grandly into view,
And presents a thousand landscapes,
Every one to Nature true.
Round by round the mountains rise up,
Round on round, and tier on tier,
You behold them in their beauty,
Through a vista, bright and clear.
Like concentric circles floating,
Ebbing on a crystal bay
To the distance they're receding,
Fading like declining day.
Hardby stands the Whiteside Mountain,
Like an athlete, strong and tall,
Perpendicularly rising
As a mighty granite wall;
Towering o'er the Cashier's valley,
Stretching calmly at its base,
Like a bouquet of rich roses
Beautifying Nature's vase.
High above the other mountains,
Whiteside stands in bold relief,
With its court house and its cavern
Refuge for the soul with grief;
Like a monolith it rises
To a grand majestic height,
Till its crest becomes a mirror,
To refract the rays of light.
From its summit grand and gorgeous
Like a splendid stereoscope,
Comes a view yet undiscovered
Full of awe, and life and hope.
Smiling vales and nodding forests
Greet you like a loving child,
From the zenith of the mountain,
Comes the landscape undefiled.
Flying clouds pour forth their shadows,
As the curious mystic maze
Shrouds the mountains from the vision,
With its dark and lowering haze.
Fog so dense come stealing o'er you
That you know not day from night,
Till the rifting of the shadows
Makes room for the golden light.
In the Blue Ridge, near the headland
In the Hamburg scenic mountains,
Comes a silver flow of water
From a score of dancing fountains,
Tripping lightly, leaping gently,
Slipping 'neath the underbrush
Without noise it creepeth slowly
Toward the place of onward rush.
Floats along beneath the hemlock,
Nods to swaying spruce and pine,
Murmurs in its pebbly bottom
Holds converse with tree and vine.
Winds around the jutting ledges
Of translucent spar and flint,
With effulgence like the jasper
With its glare and gleam and glint.
Moving onward, moving ever,
In its course o'er amber bed,
While the bluejay and the robin
Perch in tree top overhead;
Perch and sing of joy and freedom,
Fill the glen with pleasure's song,
As the waters, fresh and sparkling,
Rippling, gliding, pass along.
Thus the Tuckaseigee river
Rises far back in the dell,
Where the dank marsh of the mountain
Rise and fall, assuage and swell,
Till its flow becomes augmented
By a thousand little streams
Coming from the rocky highlands
Through their fissures and their seams.
Fills the valley, passes quickly,
Trips and falls a hundred feet,
Swirls a moment, makes a struggle,
Doth the same rash act repeat.
Rushes, rages, fumes and surges,
Dashes into mist and spray,
Heaves and sighs, foments and lashes,
As it turns to rush away;
Roars and fills the earth and heaven
With the pean of its rage,
Plunges down deep in the gulches,
Where the rocks are worn with age.
Maddened by the sudden conflict,
Starts anew to rend the wall
That confines its turbid waters
To the defile and the fall.
Once again it leaps and rushes
Toward the towering granite wall,
And it bounds full many a fathom
In its final furious fall.
Much it moans and seethes and surges,
Starts again at rapid speed,
O'er the rocky pot-hole gushes
Like a gaited blooded steed.
Thus the Tuckaseigee river
Falls into the great abyss
Down the canyon, rough and rugged,
Where the spar and granite kiss.
Then it flows still fast and faster,
With its flood both bright and clear,
Through the cycles ripe with ages
Month on month and year on year.
Near the apex of the mountains,
In the silence of the dale,
Where no human foot has trodden
Path or road or warrior's trail,
From the tarn or seep there drippeth
Crystal water bright and free,
That becomes a nymph of beauty,
Pretty vale of Cullowhee.
In the spreading vale the townhouse,
And the Indian village stood;
In the alcove, well secluded,
In the grove of walnut wood.
Ancient chiefs held many councils,
Sung the war-song, kept the dance,
While the squaws and pretty maidens
Vie each other in the prance.
Cullowhee, thou stream and valley,
Once the domicile and home,
Of a people free and happy,
Free from tribal fear and gloom,
Where, O where, are thy great warriors--
Where thy chiefs and warriors bold--
Who once held in strict abeyance
Those who plundered you of old?
Gone forever are thy warriors,
Gone thy chiefs and maidens fair,
Vanished like the mist of summer,
Gone! but none can tell us where.
From their homes were hounded, driven,
Like the timid hind or deer,
Herded like the driven cattle,
Forced from home by gun and spear.
"Tell me, vale or rippling water,
Tell me if ye can or will,
If you've seen my long-lost lover
Known as wandering Whippoorwill?"
But the water, cool and placid,
That comes from the mountain high
Swirled a moment, then departing
Made no answer or reply.
Then the maiden's grief grew greater,
As she lingered by the stream
Watching for some sign or token
Or some vision through a dream;
But no dream made revelation,
Only sorrow filled her years,
And her eyes lost much of luster
As her cheeks suffused with tears.
Turning thence into the forest
Over hill and brook and mound,
To the Cullasaja river
Through the forest land they wound;
Through the tangled brush and ivy,
Rough and rugged mountainside,
Led the ponies through the forest,
Far too steep for them to ride.
They descended trails deserted,
Where the chieftains used to go,
Near the Cullasaja river,
Near its rough uneven flow;
Camped upon its bank at evening,
Heard at night the roar and splash
Of the voice of many waters
Down the fearful cascade dash.
Stood at sunrise where the shadow
Of the cliffs cast darkening shade,
Where the rainbows chase the rainbow
Like as sorrows chased the maid.
Traveled down the silver current,
Rested often on the way,
Strolled the banks and fished the current
Of the crystal Ellijay.
Pleasantly the winding current
Eddies, swirls and loiters free
Till it joins the radiant waters
Of the little Tennessee;
Where the mound stands in the meadow,
Once the townhouse capped its crest,
There the tribe was wont to gather,
Council, plan and seek for rest.
To the mound the tribe assembled,
From the regions all around,
Came from Cowee and Coweeta,
Where the Cherokee abound;
Came from Nantahala mountains,
Skeenah and Cartoogechaye,
Nickajack and sweet Iola,
And from Choga far away.
All the great men and the warriors
Brought the women, and their wives,
Came by hundreds without number,
Like the swarms around the hives;
But today there is no warrior,
Not a maiden can be found,
Tenting on the pretty meadow,
Or upon Nik-wa-sa mound.
In the Cowee spur of mountains,
Stands the Bald and Sentinel,
Of the valley and the river,
Of the moorland and the dell.
Like a pyramid it rises,
Layer on layer and flight on flight
Till its crest ascends the confines
Of the grand imperial height.
From its summit far receding,
Contours of the mountains rise,
Numerous as the constellations
In the arched dome of the skies.
Far away beyond the valley
Double Top confronts the eye,
Black Rock rises like a shadow
On the blue ethereal sky.
Jones' Knob makes its appearance,
Highest, grandest height of all
Penetrates the vault of heaven,
None so picturesque or tall.
Wayah, Burningtown and Wesser
Raise their bald heads to the cloud
High and haughty, rich in beauty
And extremely vain and proud.
Una and Yalaka mountains
Stand so near up by the side
Of the Cowee, that you'd take them
For its consort or its bride.
Festooned, wreathed and decorated
With the honeysuckle bloom,
And the lady-slipper blossom,
There dispels the hour of gloom.
Ginseng and the Indian turnip
Grow up from their fallow beds
In the dark coves of the mountains,
With their beaded crimson heads.
Fertile fields and stately meadows
Stretch along the sylvan streams
And surpass the fields Elysian,
Seen in visionary dreams.
From the summit of the Cowee
In the season of the fall,
Fog fills all the pretty valley
Settles like the deathly pall,
Coming from the rill and river,
To the isothermal belt,
Where the sunbeam meets the fog-line
And the frost and ices melt.
Jutting tops of verdant mountains
Penetrate the fog below,
As the islands in the ocean
Form the archipelago.
Sea of fog stands out before you,
With its islands and its reef
Silent and devoid of murmur
As the quivering aspen leaf.
"Occoneechee, look to Northland,
See the Smoky Mountains rise,
Like a shadow in the valley
Or a cloud upon the skies.
Many days since you beheld them
In their grand, majestic height;
Many days from these you've wandered
From their fountains, pure and bright.
"Hie thee to the Smoky Mountains,
Tarry not upon the plain,
Linger not upon the border
Of the fields of golden grain.
Flee thee as a kite or eagle,
Not a moment stop or stay,
Hasten to Oconaluftee,
Be not long upon the way.
"I have much to speak unto you
E'er I take my final leave,
Some will sadden, some will gladden,
Some bring joy and some will grieve.
All our legends, myths and stories
Soon will fall into decay,
And I must transmit them to you
E'er I turn to go away.
"Mount thee, mount thee quick this pony,
Spryly spring upon its back,
Leave no vestige, sign or token
Or the semblance of a track,
Whereby man may trace or trail thee,
In the moorland or morass,
By the radiant river flowing
Or secluded mountain pass.
"Grasp the reins, hold fast the girdle,
Like flamingoes make your flight
To the great dome of the mountain
That now gleams within your sight.
Clingman's Dome, the crowning glory
Of the high erupted hills,
They will shield you and protect you,
With its cliffs and rolling rills."
Sped they like the rolling current,
Sped they like a gleam of light,
Sped they as the flying phantom
Or a swallow in its flight,
To their refuge in the mountain,
To the temple of the earth,
Near the lonely spot secluded,
That had known her from her birth.
Standing, gazing, watching, peering,
Through the azure atmosphere,
At the wilderness before you
And the scene both rich and clear.
Cerulean the gorgeous mountains
Rise and loom up in your sight,
Like a splendid constellation
On a crisp autumnal night.
'Twixt the fall and winter season,
Comes a tinge of milky haze,
Stealing o'er the Smoky Mountains,
Shutting out the solar rays,
Flooding vales and filling valleys,
Coming, creeping, crawling slow,
Fills the firmament with shadows
As with crystal flakes of snow.
Through the haze and mist and shadows
You discern a ball of fire,
From the rim of Nature rising
As a knighted funeral pyre;
Yet it moveth slowly upward,
Creeps aloft along the sky,
As a billow on the ocean
Meets the ship, then passes by.
This you say is Indian summer,
Tepid season of the year,
When glad harvest songs ascendeth
Full of hope and love and cheer.
From Penobscot, down the Hudson,
By the Susquehanna wild,
Through the Shenandoah valley
Roamed the forest-loving child.
Roamed the Mohawk and the Huron,
Seneca and Wyandot,
Delaware and the Mohican,
Long since perished and forgot.
Powhattan and Tuscarora,
And the wandering Showano,
Creek and Seminole and Erie,
Miami and Pamlico,
Chicasaw and the Osages,
Kickapoo and Illinois,
Ottawas and Susquehannas,
Objibwas and Iroquois,
Once enjoyed the Indian summers,
Once to all this land was heir,
Sportive, free and lithe and happy,
Chief and maid and matron fair.
As the blossoms in the forest
Bloom, then fall into decay,
So the mighty tribes here mentioned,
Flourished, so traditions say;
Then the coming of the white man,
Spread consternation far and wide;
Then decay and desolation
Conquered all their manly pride.
Treaties made were quickly broken
And their homes were burned with fire,
Which provoked the mighty tribesmen
And aroused their vengeful ire.
Furious raids on hostile savage
With the powder-horn and gun,
Soon reduced the noble red man
Slowly, surely, one by one,
Till not one now roams the forest,
None are left to tell the tale;
All their guns and bows are broken,
None now for them weep or wail.
Only names of streams and mountains
Keep the memory aglow,
Of the noble, brave and fearless
Red men of the long ago.
Cherokee, the seed and offspring
Residue of Iroquois,
Silently are disappearing
Without pageantry or noise.
Though more civil and more learned
And much wiser than the rest,
They will be amalgamated,
By the white man in the West.
Occoneechee and the chieftain
Talked of all that they had seen,
Of the flow of pretty rivers
And the matchless mountains green,
Of the ferns and pretty flowers,
Parterre of rarest hue,
Tint of maroon, white and yellow,
Saffron, lilac, red and blue.
Held they converse of their travels,
Of the wilderness sublime,
Of the myths and happy legends
Told through yielding years of time.
Of the wars and tales forgotten,
Of the chiefs and warriors brave
Who long since have run their journey,
Who now sleep within the grave.
At those tales the maiden wept loud,
Sought for solace thru a sigh,
Much o'ercome by thoughts of loved ones,
And she prayed that she might die
High upon the Smoky Mountains,
Where no human soul can trace
The seclusions of the forest
To her lonely burial place.
Bitterly she wailed in sorrow,
Saying "Tell me, tell me why
I am left out here so lonely,
And my tears are never dry?
Why he comes not at my calling,
Why he roams some lonely way,
Why does he not come back to me--
Why does he not come and stay?
"Why and where now does he linger?
Tell me, silver, crescent moon,
Shall our parting be forever--
Shall our hopes all blast at noon?
When love's bright star shines the brightest
Shall it be the sooner set?
Shall we e'er be reunited,
Tell me, while hope lingers yet!
"Does he linger in the mountains,
Far up toward the radiant sky?
Tell me, blessed God of Nature,
Tell me, blessed Nunnahi.
Has some evil spirit seized him,
Hid or carried him away
Far beyond the gleaming sunset,
Far out toward the close of day?
"Will he come back with the morning,
Borne upon its wings of light,
From the shade that long has lingered,
From the darkness of the night?
Is there none to bring me answer?
Speak, dear Nature, tell me where
I may find my long lost lover,
Is my final feeble prayer."
Then the chieftain, grand and noble,
Came and lingered by her side,
Like a lover in devotion
Lingers near a loving bride.
Then in accents like a clarion,
Sweet and clear, but gently said,
"Whippoorwill, my friend, your lover,
Comes again, he is not dead!
"I will go and hunt your lover,
And will bring him to your side;
I will roam the forest ever,
And will cease to be your guide;
I will find the one you've looked for,
And will tell him that you live;
I will tell him of your rambles,
And will all my future give,
"Till I find him in the forest,
Or upon the flowing brink
Of the Coosa river flowing,
Where he used to often drink.
In the everglades may linger,
'Neath the shade of some cool palm,
Sweetest refuge of the lowlands,
With its air of purest balm.
"Where the Seminole in silence,
Made their refuge, long ago,
From the fierce onslaught of Jackson,
And exterminating woe.
He may listen in the silence
And the solitude of night,
For some friendly sign or token
Whereby he may make his flight.
"When I've found him we will travel,
We will travel night and day,
We will hasten on our journey,
Will not linger nor delay,
We will speed along the valley
Like the wind before the rain,
We will neither stop nor tarry,
Never from our speed refrain.
"We will rush along the river,
Like the maddened swollen tide,
Like a leaf upon the cyclone
Rushing forward in its pride;
Over winter's snow and ices
We will rush with greatest speed,
Like a herd of frightened cattle
Or a trained Kentucky steed.
"I will tell him of your travels
Into lands he's never seen,
With their forests and their flowers,
And their leaves of living green;
How for years you've looked and waited,
Watched the trail and mountainside,
Watched and hoped long for him coming,
That you might become his bride.
"I am John Ax, Stagu-Nahi!
Much I love the mountains wild!
Friend of those who love the forest,
Friend of those who love you, child.
I bespeak a special blessing
To attend you while I go
Into strange lands, unto strangers,
Hither, thither, to and fro."
Then he pressed her to his bosom,
Breathed a silent, parting prayer
To the Nunnahi in heaven,
For the lovely maid so fair;
Prayed and blessed her, then departed
Thru primeval forests wild,
Sped he by the rolling waters,
Heard them laugh and saw them smile.
Sped he by the Coosa river,
Where great brakes of waving cane,
Bend before the blowing breezes,
Like the waves of wind and rain.
Took the trails where once the chieftain
Strode at will in lordly pride,
By the Coosa river flowing
In its smooth, unrippled tide.
Downward, onward, free and easy,
Swirls and turns and travels slow,
As it glitters in the sunlight,
As its waters onward go.
Sees the trail almost extinguished
By the pretty Etawa,
Where once dwelt in great profusion,
Chief and maid and tawny squaw.
Traveled far the Tallapoosa
Into fen and deep morass,
Through the wildwood, glade and forest
Dark defile and narrow pass;
Footsore, lame and often hungry,
Traveled onward day and night,
Like the wild goose speeding forward
In its semi-annual flight.
O'er the glebes of Alabama,
Crossed the hill and stream and dale,
To the Tuskaloosa flowing
Near the ancient Indian trail,
Now deserted and forsaken
Is the war path and the land,
By the Creek and great Muscogas
Wandering, wild, nomadic band.
Pensive, lonely and dejected,
Penetrated he the wild,
Over fen and bog and prairie,
Into climates soft and mild.
By lagoon and lake and river,
By the deep translucent bay,
Followed he the sun's direction,
Many a night and sunlit day.
Crossed the Mississippi delta,
Wound through many moor and fen,
Saw the shining stars at midnight,
And the dawn of days begin;
Heard the tramp of bear and bison,
Heard the wild wolf's dismal howl,
Saw the glowworm in the rushes,
Heard the whippoorwill and owl.
Heard the alligator bellow,
Saw him swim the broad bayou,
Saw the egret, crane and heron,
Wading stark and tree-cuckoo.
Trackless miles spread out before him,
Stretching leagues of gama grass
Lay across the course he traveled,
Lay out where he had to pass.
Dangling mosses from the tree tops,
Swung by swaying winds and breeze,
Cling with tendrils to the branches,
Of the mighty live oak trees.
Soft as lichens, light as feathers
Was the tall untrodden grass,
On the prairie and the meadow,
And the spreading rich morass.
Tranquil, peacefully and quiet
Did the moons and moments wane,
Till he came to Oklahoma,
Into his own tribe's domain;
Here he rested for a season,
Ate the food and drank for health
In the land of Oklahoma,
Land of perfect natural wealth.
Oklahoma, red man's country,
Blest above all other lands,
In her natural soil and climate,
In her ore-beds and her sands;
In her fertile fields and valleys,
In her people, true and great,
Cherokee and Creek and Choctaws
Make the people of the state.
Here's a land transformed in beauty,
Touched and tilled by busy toil,
Responds quickly to the tiller,
Products of a generous soil.
Fruits and flowers forever growing,
Fields of gold and snowy white,
Songs of harvest home and plenty
Sung to every one's delight.
Here with labor, love and patience,
There arose an empire great,
Which when settled, tilled and treated,
Has become a powerful state;
Filled with people true and honest,
Filled with people thrifty too,
And the land is flat and fertile,
Best that mortals ever knew.
Once where roamed the bear and bison,
Where the she wolf and the owl
Made their home and habitation,
And the foxes used to prowl;
Where the serpent coiled and waited,
Hid beneath the waving grass
To inject his fangs and venom
In some human as he'd pass,
Now there thrives the busy city,
Bristling with the throb and thrill
Of the commerce of a nation,
Growing greater, growing still.
All her farms and fields and ranches,
Groan beneath their heavy load
Of waving grain and lowing cattle;
All the land with wealth is strewed.
Then he rose up like the morning,
From his slumber and his rest,
To converse there with the chieftains
Among whom he'd been a guest.
Then he spoke of Carolina
Toward the rising of the sun,
Full of hope and awe and splendor
Where his early life begun.
And he spoke of Occoneechee
In the land of hills and streams,
In the land of wooded forests,
Land of love and fondest dreams;
Land where myths and mirth commingle,
Where aspiring peaks point high,
To the dials of the morning
In the sweet "Land of the sky."
Spoke he also of a chieftain,
Known to her as Whippoorwill,
Who once dwelt within the forest,
Near a pleasant little rill,
In the dark fens of the mountains,
Back where oak and birchen grove
Cast their shadows o'er the valley
O'er the cliffs and deepest cove.
Where glad song of the nightingale
Is the sweetest ever heard,
And far exceeds in melody,
The trill of the mocking-bird.
From the matutinal dawning
Till the falling shades of night
The songster sings in mellow tones
To the auditor's delight.
Long in silence sat the chieftain,
Long he listened quite intent,
To the story of the stranger,
Catching all he said and meant,
Of the maiden of the mountains,
Of the trees and songs of bird,
And the story lingered with him,
Every syllable and word.
Then the chieftain made inquiry
Of the stranger true and bold,
Who now came to tarry with them,
Who was growing gray and old,
Of the health and habitation
Of the Eastern tribal band
Who still dwelt amid the Smokies
In his own sweet native land;
Where his heart felt first the wooing,
Where his hope of youth ran high,
'Mid the hills of Carolina
In the sweet "Land of the sky."
In the land of flowers and sunshine,
Land of silver-flowing streams,
Land of promise full of blessings
And of legends, myths and dreams;
Land of pretty maids and matrons,
Home where generous hearts are true,
Where the sunshine chases shadows
Down the vaults of vaporous blue.
Where the wild flight of the eagle
Soars beyond the keenest eye,
In recesses of the heavens,
In the blue ethereal sky.
Rifting rocks and rolling rivers
Doth adorn the hill and vale,
Lilting melodies float outward
On the vortex of the gale;
This the land of Occoneechee,
Land that Junaluska saw,
Home of warrior, chief and maiden,
Land of dauntless brave and squaw.
Let us go back to those mountains,
Once more let us view those hills,
And let me hear the voice once more
Of the laughing streams and rills;
And let me view with raptured eye
The blossom of tree and vine,
Once more inhale the sweet ozone,
Under tulip tree and pine.
Those hills, delectable mountains,
Outrival the scenes of Greece,
Surpass in beauty and grandeur
The Eagle or Golden Fleece.
Those shrines and temples of granite,
Glad sentinels of the free!
There let me roam through dell once more,
Let me glad and happy be.
Some speak of splendid balmy isles,
Far out in the rolling sea,
Of spicy groves, and vine-clad hills,
And of things which are to be;
Of nymphs and naiads of the past,
Of lands of the brave and free,
But none of these can e'er surpass
The hills of Cherokee;
The hills where roamed the dusky maid,
And the home of Whippoorwill,
Where Occoneechee dreamed at night,
By the gushing stream and rill.
By strange enchanted mystic lake
Where the wildest beasts are seen,
Far back in the deep recess
Of the mountain's verdure green.
"Let autumn's wind blow swift its gale,
The season of summer flee,
But I will soon my lover meet,
In the 'land of the brave and free,'
I'll leave Tahlequah in the West,
With this warrior at my side.
We'll travel as the fleetest winds
Unless ill fates betide.
"While the morrow's stars are glowing,
In the dials of the morn,
I will start upon the journey,
To the land where I was born."
So he gathered up his chattels,
Springing spryly on his steed,
Made inquiry of the warrior,
"Which of us shall take the lead?"
Then the warrior to the chieftain
Quick replied, "I'll lead the way
Far across the hill and valley,
Mounted on this splendid bay."
Then they said to friend and neighbor,
Old-time chief and child and squaw,
"At the dawning, we will leave you,
Leave the town of Tahlequah;
"Leave the tribe and reservation,
For a journey to the East,
Where the tribesmen dwell together,
Meet serenely, drink and feast,
In a land where peace and pleasure
Vie each other in the pace,
Where the hopes of life are brightest
To the fallen human race."
Just then came a gleam like lightning,
Shooting forth its silver ray,
Which precedes the golden splendor
Of the fast approaching day.
This the advent and the token
For the brave to lead the way
Out across the plain and valley
Toward the coming king of day.
Then they seized the spear and trident,
Bow and tomahawk and knife,
And they left the scenes of conflict,
With its turmoil and its strife;
And they journeyed ever eastward,
Days and many a-waning moon,
Crossing river, lake and prairie,
Spreading field and broad lagoon.
Saw the Wabash and Missouri,
Cumberland and Tennessee,
Saw the Holston in its beauty
And the town of Chilhowee.
Looked down on the Nolachucky,
Saw Watauga's crystal flow
Gleam from out the moon's reflection
From the canyon's depths below.
Neptune, who pervades the water,
Ne'er beheld a holier sight
Than this happy, hopeful chieftain
Did that crisp autumnal night.
While he looked upon the water
Bright and pure and crystalline,
Fairest land and purest water
Mortal eye had ever seen;
He beheld there in his vision
Such a Naiad divine,
That he put forth his endeavors,
That he might the maid entwine;
But she flew back like a phantom,
Back into the crescent wave,
From the presence of the chieftain
And the relegated brave;
Flew back from him and departed
And was lost to human eye;
All that now lay out before him
Was the stream and earth and sky.
Full of disappointing beauty,
Was the earth and sky and stream,
When divested of the grandeur
Of the vision and the dream.
Then he rambled through the mountains
Over crag and rugged steep,
Through the laurel bed and ivy
By exertion did he creep;
Through the hemlock and the balsam
Under oak and birchen tree,
Gazing through the heath before him
If perchance that he might see
In the dim, dark, hazel distance,
Far out on the mountainside
Occoneechee, pure and lovely,
Whom he longed to make his bride;
Make his bride and dwell there with her
'Mid aspiring peak and dome;
Longed to have her sit beside him,
In his peaceful mountain home.
Wandered through the Craggy mountains
Where no human foot had trod,
And no eye had yet beheld it,
Save the eye of Nature's God.
For the spreading tree and forest
Grew from out the virgin soil,
And was free from all intrusions
Of the white man's skill and toil.
Now their speed was much retarded,
Trails once plain were now unkept,
And the chief and brave lamenting
Laid themselves down there and wept;
Wept for chiefs like Uniguski,
Sequoya and Utsala,
In the land of Tuckaleechee
And for friends like Wil-Usdi. [1]
Turning from his grief and sorrow
For the chiefs of long ago,
Ceasing all his deep repining
From the burden of his woe,
Looking far o'er hill and valley
He beheld the gilded dome
Of the Smokies in the distance,
Near old Junaluska's home.
Then the chieftain's hope grew stronger,
As he looked upon the scene
Of that splendid mountain forest
With its crest of evergreen;
Like a black cloud in the winter,
Spreads upon the mountainside,
This the forest land primeval
That stands there in lordly pride,
This the forest land primeval,
Where the chieftains used to roam,
Joined in chase of bear and bison,
Once the red deer's winter home.
Black and deep and dense the forest,
Steep and high the cliffside stands,
Where the Cherokee once wandered
In their wild nomadic bands.
As they gazed upon the scenery,
Weird and wild and full of awe,
They were filled with consternation
At the sight both of them saw.
Passing high up near the zenith
Like an eagle in its flight
Came the sound of wings and voices,
On that moonlit autumn night.
Voices like the rolling thunder
Came resounding far and near,
And the meteoric flashes
Filled them full of awe and fear;
Till they trembled like the aspen
'Mid the tempest fierce and wild,
Till it passes, then reposes,
Calmly as a little child.
Said the brave then to the chieftain,
"This my token to depart,
I must quickly make my exit,
Though it grieves my soul and heart
Thus to leave you in the forest,
Out upon the mountainside,
Without hope or friend or shelter,
With no one to be your guide;
"These the Nunnahi in heaven,
Come to lead me far away,
Over hill and dale and valley,
Toward the final close of day.
You will miss me in the morning,
Miss me at the noon and night,
When I'm mounted on my pinions
And am lost to human sight.
"Yet a moment I'm allotted
To transmit to you my will;
High here on the Smoky Mountains
Near the bright translucent rill,
Let me tell you while life lingers
In the archives of my breast,
Where you'll find sweet Occoneechee
When my soul has flown to rest:
"She still lingers in the forest,
Near the sweet enchanted lake,
Near the spirit land she lingers,
Underneath the tangled brake.
She holds all our myths and legends,
Tales as told long years ago.
Now I bid you leave me lonely
To my fate of weal or woe.
"Leave me quick, the spirits call me,
Linger not within my sight,
Hie thee quickly through the shadows
Of this crisp autumnal night.
Tell our friend, sweet Occoneechee,
That I've gone to join the band
Of the braves who have departed
For the happy hunting land."
Then a shadow passed between them,
Like a cloud upon the sky,
And the chief was separated
There upon the mountain high,
From his guide and friend forever,
So his eye could never see.
Whence he traveled, none returneth
To explain the mystery.
Thus bereft of friend and neighbor,
Whippoorwill began to wail,
For some mystic hand to guide him
Back into the trodden trail,
Where some chief had gone before him
In the years that long had flown,
Out upon the mystic ages,
Now forgotten and unknown.
But no spirit, sign or token
Came from out the vista fair,
Nothing saw, nor nothing heard he,
Save the earth and scenery fair.
As he stood and gazed in silence,
Motionless and calm as death,
Stillness reigned on hill and valley
And the chieftain held his breath,
While he strained his ears and vision,
Listening, looking here and there,
Waiting, watching, simply trusting
For an answer to his prayer.
Suddenly he heard the calling
Of a voice so sweet and clear,
That he answered, quickly answered,
Though his heart was filled with fear.
And the voice from out the forest,
Called as calls the mating bird,
In the bower in the springtime,
Sweetest call that e'er was heard,
Resonant comes, softly trilling,
Sweetly to its lingering mate,
In the silence of the forest,
As they for each other wait.
Then the chieftain bounded forward,
Like a hound upon the trail,
Thru the forest land primeval
Over mound and hill and dale;
Over ridge and rock and river,
Thru the heath and brush and grass,
Thru the land of the Uktena,
Thru it all he had to pass.
Till he reached the mystic region,
Far back in the darkest glen,
Near the lake of the enchanted
Only known to bravest men.
Here the bear and owl and panther,
Find a cure for every ill,
Find life's sweetest panacea,
Near the sparkling crystal rill,
High upon the Smoky Mountains
Resonant with Nature wild,
For the wanderer from the distance,
And the tawny Indian child.
This the forest land primeval,
Full of awe and dread and dreams,
Full of ghouls and ghosts and goblins,
Full of rippling crystal streams.
From the stream down in the ravine,
Came another gentle call,
Like the chirping of the robin,
In the hemlocks straight and tall.
Once again the call repeated,
Then a sudden little trill
Floated out upon the breezes,
From beside the crystal rill.
Then the chieftain whistled keenly
Like a hawk upon the wing,
When it soars above the mountain,
On the balmy air of spring.
Then another chirping, chirping,
Came from deep down in the vale,
And it floated up the mountain
Like a leaf upon the gale.
Now the chieftain, moved by caution,
Watched and moved with greatest care,
Down and thru the deepest gulches,
Looking here, observing there,
For the bird or beast or human,
That could send out such a call,
From the laurel near the fountain
And a splendid waterfall.
Suddenly his heart beat faster,
At the sight which came to view,
Through the opening in the laurel
As it parts to let him thru.
She was bathing feet and ankles,
Arms and hands she did refresh
In the iridescent splendor,
Of the fountain cool and fresh.
Then he bounds forth quick to greet her,
E'er she sees him by her side,
She the maiden true and holy,
Who was soon to be his bride.
"O, I see you, Occoneechee!"
"And I see you, Whippoorwill!"
Were the greetings that they whispered
As they met there near the rill.
They were married in the morning,
He the groom and she the bride,
And they lived in bliss together,
Many years before they died;
Now their spirits dwell together,
Near the hidden mystic shore,
Of the lake back in the shadows
Since their wanderings are o'er.
And at night the legends tell us,
You can hear a man and bride
Hold converse of trail and travel,
High upon the mountainside;
And the soul of Occoneechee,
Lingers near the rippling rill,
High upon the Smoky Mountains,
With her lover Whippoorwill.
PART III
MYTHS OF THE CHEROKEE
MYTHS OF THE CHEROKEE
"I know not how the truth may be,
I tell the tale as 'twas told me."
The myths related here are from the great story tellers like Ayunini,
or "Swimmer," who was the greatest of all, but while he ranked
first and lived during the time that tried men's hearts, having been
born about 1835, and died in March, 1899, his stories can only be
perpetuated by putting them in print, and we are indebted to him for
many of these beautiful stories, which should be perpetuated at least
so long as one of the Cherokee tribe shall live.
Next in rank of importance comes Itagunahi, better known among the
English-speaking people as John Axe, who was born in the year 1800,
saw the battle of Horseshoe Bend, witnessed the removal of the Cherokee
tribe in 1838. He knew its history and almost all of the myths, legends
and stories, transmitted many of them to the white man for record, and
while he never spoke English, he was a very versatile and interesting
man of the old type of Indians, and strong to the last days; he lived
to near 100 years, then passed to the Happy Hunting Grounds.
To John D. Wofford, of the Western Reservation or tribe, we are
indebted for much information, which would have been lost except for
his wonderful knowledge.
All the story-tellers prefaced their remarks by saying, "This is what
the old folks used to tell us when we were boys."
Cherokee myths may be classified as sacred myths, animal stories,
local legends, and historical traditions. The sacred myths were not
for every one, but only those might hear who observed the proper form
and ceremony.
In the old times the myth-keepers and priests were accustomed to
meet together at night in the asi, or low-built log sleeping house,
to recite the traditions and discuss their secret knowledge. At
times those who desired instruction from an adept in the sacred
lore of the tribe would meet the priest by appointment in the asi,
where they sat up all night talking, with only the light of a small
fire burning in the middle of the floor. At daybreak the whole party
went down to the running stream, where the pupils or hearers of the
myths stripped themselves and were scratched upon the naked skin with
a bone tooth comb in the hands of the priest, after which they waded
out, facing the rising sun, and dipped seven times under the water,
while the priest recited prayers upon the bank. The purificatory rite,
which was observed more than a century ago by Adair, is also a part of
the ceremonial of the ball play, the green-corn dance, and, in fact,
every important ritual performance. Before beginning one of the stories
of the sacred class the informant would sometimes suggest jokingly
that the author first submit to being scratched and, "Go to water."
MYTH ONE.
HOW THE WORLD WAS MADE.
The earth is a great island floating in a sea of water, and suspended
at each of the four cardinal points by a cord hanging down from the
sky vault, which is of solid rock. When the world grows old and worn
out, the people will die and the cords will break, and let the earth
sink down into the ocean, and all will be water again. The Indians
are afraid of this.
When all was water, the animals were above the Galunlati, beyond
the arch; but it was very much crowded, and they were wanting more
room. They wondered what was below the water, and at last Dayunisi,
"Beaver's Grandchild," the little Water-beetle, offered to go and see
if it could learn. It darted in every direction over the surface of
the water, but could find no firm place to rest.
Then it dived to the bottom and came up with some soft mud, which began
to grow and spread in every direction until it became an island which
we call the earth. It was afterwards fastened to the sky, but no one
remembers who did it.
At first the earth was flat, and very soft and wet. The animals
were anxious to get down, and sent out different birds to see if it
was yet dry, but they found no place to alight and came back again
to Galunlati. At last it seemed to be time, and they sent out the
Buzzard and told him to go and make ready for them.
This was the Great Buzzard, the father of all the buzzards we see
now. He flew all over the earth, low down, near the ground, and it was
still soft. When he reached the Cherokee country, he was very tired,
and his wings began to flap and strike the ground, and wherever they
struck the earth there was a valley, and where they turned up again,
there was a mountain. When the animals above saw this, they were
afraid the whole earth would be mountains, so they called him back,
but the Cherokee country remains full of mountains to this day.
When the earth was dry and the animals came down, it was still dark,
so they got the sun and set it in a track to go every day across the
island from east to west, just overhead. It was too hot this way, and
Tsiskagili, the Red Crawfish, had his shell scorched red, so that his
meat was spoiled; and the Cherokee do not eat it. The conjurers put the
sun another hand-breadth higher in the air, but it was still too hot.
They raised it another time, and another, until it was seven
hand-breadths high, and just under the sky arch. Then it was right,
and they left it so. This is why the conjurers call the highest place
"Gulkwagine Digalunlatiyun," "the seven height," because it is seven
hand-breadths above the earth. Every day the sun goes along under this
arch, and returns at night on the upper side to the starting place.
There is another world under this, and it is like ours in
everything--animals, plants, and people--save that the seasons are
different. The streams that come down from the mountains are the
trails by which the people reach the underworld, and the springs
at their heads are the doorways by which they enter it, but to do
this one must fast and go to water and have one of the underground
people for a guide. We know that the seasons in the underground are
different from ours, because the water in the springs is warmer in
the winter and cooler in the summer than the outer air.
When the animals and the plants were first made--we do not know
by whom--they were told to watch and keep awake for seven nights,
just as young men now fast and keep awake when they pray to their
medicine. They tried to do this, and nearly all were awake through
the first night, but the next night several dropped off to sleep,
and the third night others were asleep, and then others, until, on
the seventh night, of all the animals, only the owl, the panther and
one or two more were still awake.
To these were given the power to see and to go about in the dark, and
to make prey of the birds and animals which must sleep at night. Of the
trees, only the cedar, the pine, the spruce, the holly and the laurel
were awake to the end, and to them it was given to be always green and
to be greatest for medicine, but to the others it was said: "Because
you have not endured to the end you shall lose your hair every winter."
Men came after the animals and plants. At first there were only a
brother and sister until he struck her with a fish and told her to
multiply, and so it was. In seven days a child was born to her, and
thereafter every seven days another, and they increased very fast
until there was danger that the world could not keep them. Then it
was made that a woman should have only one child in a year, and it
has been so ever since.
MYTH TWO.
THE FIRST FIRE.
In the beginning there was no fire, and the world was cold, until the
Thunders (Ani-Hyuntikwalaski) who lived up in Galunlati, sent their
lightning and put fire into the bottom of a hollow sycamore tree,
which grew on an island. The animals knew it was there, because they
could see the smoke coming out at the top, but they could not get to
it on account of the water, so they held a council to decide what to
do. This was a long time ago.
Every animal that could fly or swim was anxious to go after the
fire. The Raven offered, and because he was so large and strong they
thought he could surely do the work, so he was sent first. He flew
high and far across the water and alighted on the sycamore tree, but
while he was wondering what to do next, the heat had scorched all his
feathers black, and he was frightened and came back without the fire.
The little Screech-owl (Wahuhu) volunteered to go, and reached the
place safely, but while he was looking down in the hollow tree a
blast of hot air came up and nearly burned out his eyes. He managed
to fly home as best he could, but it was a long time before he could
see well, and his eyes are red to this day.
Then the Hooting Owl (Uguku) and the Horned Owl (Tskili) went, but by
the time they got to the hollow tree the fire was burning so fiercely
that the smoke nearly blinded them, and the ashes carried up by the
wind made white rings about their eyes. They had to come home again
without the fire, but with all of their rubbing they were never able
to get rid of the white rings.
Now, no more of the birds would venture, and so the little Uksuhi
snake, the Black Racer, said he would go through the water and bring
back some fire. He swam across to the island and crawled through the
grass to the tree, and went in by a small hole at the bottom. The
heat and smoke were too much for him, too, and after dodging about
blindly over the hot ashes until he was almost on fire himself he
managed by good luck to get out again at the same hole, but his body
had scorched black, and he has ever since had the habit of darting
and doubling on his track as if trying to escape from close quarters.
He came back, and the great Blacksnake, Gulegi, "The Climber,"
offered to go for the fire. He swam over to the island and climbed
up the tree on the outside, as the blacksnake always does, but when
he put his head down into the hole the smoke choked him so that he
fell into the burning stump, and before he could climb out again he
was as black as the Uksuhi.
Now, they held another council, for still there was no fire, and
the world was cold, but the birds, snakes and four-footed animals
all had some excuse for not going, because they were all afraid to
venture near the burning sycamore, until at last Kananeski Amaiyehi
(the Water Spider) said she would go. This is not the water spider
that looks like a mosquito, but the other one, with black downy hair
and red stripes on her body. She can run on the water or dive to
the bottom, so there would be no trouble to get over to the island,
but the question was, how could she bring back the fire?
"I'll manage that," said the spider, so she spun a thread from her body
and wove it into a tusti bowl, which she fastened on her back. Then
she crossed over to the island and through the grass to where the
fire was still burning. She put one little coal of fire into her bowl,
and came back with it, and ever since we have had fire, and the spider
still keeps her tusti bowl.
MYTH THREE.
ORIGIN OF THE PLEIADES AND THE PINE.
Long ago, when the world was new, there were seven boys who used to
spend all their time down by the town-house, playing the gatayusti
game, rolling a stone wheel along the ground and sliding a curved
stick after it to strike it. Their mothers scolded but it did no good,
so one day they collected some gatayusti stones and boiled them in
the pot with the corn for dinner.
When the boys came home hungry their mothers dipped out the stones
and said, "Since you like the gatayusti better than the cornfield,
take the stones now for your dinner."
The boys were very angry, and went down to the town-house, saying,
"As our mothers treat us this way, let us go where we shall never
trouble them any more." They began a dance--some say it was the
feather dance--and went round and round the town-house, praying to
the spirits to help them. At last their mothers were afraid something
was wrong and went out to look for them.
They saw the boys still dancing around the town-house, and as they
watched they noticed that their feet were off the earth, and that
with every round they rose higher and higher in the air.
They ran to get their children, but it was too late, for they were
already above the roof of the town-house--all but one, whose mother
managed to pull him down with the gatayusti pole, but he struck the
ground with such force that he sank into it and the earth closed
over him. The other six children circled higher and higher until they
went up to the sky, where we see them now as the pleiades, which the
Cherokee still calls "Anitsutsa" (the Boys).
The people grieved long after them, but the mother whose boy had gone
into the ground came every morning and evening to cry over the spot,
until the earth was damp with her tears.
At last a little green shoot sprouted up and grew day by day until
it became the tall tree that we now call the pine, and the pine is
still of the same nature as the stars and holds in itself the same
bright light.
MYTH FOUR.
THE MILKY WAY.
Some people in the South had a corn mill, in which they pounded the
corn into meal, and several mornings when they came to fill it they
noticed that some of the meal had been stolen during the night.
They examined the ground, and found the tracks of a dog; so the next
night they watched, and when the dog came from the North, and began to
eat the meal out of the bowl, they sprang out and whipped him. He ran
off howling to his home in the North, with the meal dropping from his
mouth as he ran, and leaving behind a white trail where now we see the
Milky Way, which the Cherokee calls to this day Gili-utsunstanunyi,
"Where the dog ran."
MYTH FIVE.
THE DELUGE.
A long time ago a man had a dog, which began to go down to the
river every day and look at the water and howl. At last the man was
very angry and scolded the dog, which then spoke to him and said:
"Very soon there is going to be a great freshet and the water will
come so high that everybody will be drowned; but if you will make
a raft to get upon when the rain comes, you can be saved, but you
must first throw me into the water." The man did not believe it,
and the dog said, "If you want a sign that I speak the truth, look
at the back of my neck." He looked and saw that the dog's neck had
the skin worked off so that the bones stuck out.
Then he believed the dog, and began to build a raft. Soon the rain
came and he took his family, with plenty of provisions, and they
all got upon it. It rained for a long time, and the water rose
until the mountains were covered and all the people in the world
were drowned. Then the rain stopped and the water went down again,
until at last it was safe to come off the raft.
Now, there was no one alive but the man and his family, but one day
they heard a sound of dancing and shouting on the other side of the
ridge. The man climbed to the top and looked over; everything was
still, but all along the valley he saw great piles of bones of the
people who had been drowned, and then he knew that the Ghosts had
been dancing.
MYTH SIX.
HOW THE TERRAPIN BEAT THE RABBIT.
The Rabbit was a great runner and a great boaster of what she could
do. No one thought that a Terrapin was anything but a slow traveler,
but he was a great warrior and very boastful, and the two were always
disputing about their speed. At last they agreed to decide the matter
by a race.
They fixed the day and the starting place, and arranged to run across
four mountain ridges, and the one who came in first at the end of
the race was to be the winner.
The Rabbit felt so sure of it that he said to the Terrapin, "You know
you can't run. You know you can never win the race, so I'll give you
the first ridge and then you'll have three to cross while I go over
four." The Terrapin said that would be all right, but that night when
he went home to his family he sent for his Terrapin friends and told
them he wanted their help. He said he knew he could not outrun the
Rabbit, but he wanted to stop the Rabbit's boasting. He explained his
plan to his friends and they agreed to help him. When the day came all
the animals were there to see the race. The Rabbit was there with them,
but the Terrapin was gone ahead toward the first ridge, as they had
arranged, and they could hardly see him on account of the tall grass.
The word was given and the Rabbit ran off with long jumps up the
mountain, expecting to win the race before the Terrapin could get
down on the other side. But before he got up the mountain he saw
the Terrapin go over the ridge ahead of him. He ran on, and when he
reached the top he looked all around, but could not see the Terrapin
on account of the long grass. He kept on down the mountain and began
to climb the second ridge, but when he looked up again there was the
Terrapin just going over the top.
Now he was very much surprised, and made his longest jumps to catch
up, but when he got to the top there was the Terrapin away in front
going over the third ridge. The Rabbit was getting tired now and
nearly out of breath, but he kept on down the mountain and up the
other ridge until he got to the top just in time to see the Terrapin
cross the fourth ridge and thus win the race. The Rabbit could not make
another jump, but fell over on the ground, crying, "mi, mi, mi, mi,"
as the Rabbit does ever since when he is too tired to run any more.
The race was given to the Terrapin, and all the animals wondered how
he could win against the Rabbit, but he kept still and never told. It
was easy enough, however, because all the Terrapin's friends look
just alike, and he had simply posted one near the top of each ridge
to wait until the Rabbit came in sight and then climb over and hide
in the long grass.
When the Rabbit came on he could not find the Terrapin and so thought
the Terrapin was ahead, and if he had met one of the other Terrapins
he would have thought it the same one, because they look so much
alike. The real Terrapin had posted himself on the fourth ridge, so
as to come in at the end of the race and be ready to answer questions
if the animals suspected anything.
Because the Rabbit had to lie down and lose the race the conjurer
now, when preparing his young men for the ball play, boils a lot of
rabbit hamstrings into soup, and sends some one to pour it across
the path along which the other players have to come in the morning,
so that they may become tired in the same way and lose the game. It
is not always easy to do this, because the other party is expecting
it and has watchers ahead to prevent it.
MYTH SEVEN.
THE RABBIT AND THE TAR WOLF.
Once there was such a long spell of dry weather that there was no more
water in the creeks and springs, and the animals held a council to
see what to do about it. They decided to dig a well, and all agreed to
help except the Rabbit, who was a lazy fellow, and said, "I don't need
to dig for water. The dew on the grass is enough for me." The others
did not like this, but they went to work together and dug the well.
They noticed by and by that the Rabbit kept sleek and lively,
although it was still dry weather and the water was getting low in
the well. They said, "That tricky Rabbit steals our water at night,"
so they made a wolf of pine gum and tar and set it up by the well to
scare the thief. That night the Rabbit came, as he had been coming
every night, to drink enough to last him all next day. He saw the
queer black thing by the well and said, "Who's there?" but the tar
wolf said nothing.
He came nearer, but the wolf never moved, so he grew braver and said,
"Get out of my way or I will kick you." Still the wolf never moved
and the Rabbit came up and struck it with its front foot, but the
tar held it fast. Now he was angry and said: "Turn my foot loose,
or I will strike you with my other front foot"; still the wolf said
nothing. Then the Rabbit struck the wolf with his other foot, and it
stuck, and the Rabbit said, "Turn my foot loose or I will kick you,"
and still the wolf was silent, and then the rabbit kicked with his
right hind foot so hard that it stuck, and still the wolf said nothing;
and the Rabbit said, "If you don't turn my foot loose, I will kick
you with my left hind foot, which never fails to accomplish what I
want it to do"; yet the wolf was silent, and the Rabbit made his last
kick and the foot stuck, just as the others had done.
The Rabbit plead with the wolf to let him go, and yet no response came,
and, at last, when he found he was stuck fast with his feet, he said:
"If you don't turn me loose I will butt you with all my might," and
in his desperation, he struck with all his force, and his head stuck
fast to the wolf.
In the morning all the animals came down to the well to drink
as usual, and found the Rabbit stuck fast to the wolf of tar,
and they began to discuss what disposition to make of him, so one
suggested that they cut his head off, to which the Rabbit replied,
"Please do cut my head off, for it is such an easy death to die,"
but this aroused the suspicion of the animals, so that the fox said,
"No, we will not do this for he deserves a harsher death than this,"
whereupon they all agreed. Then the Wolf suggested that they burn him
alive, to which the Rabbit said, "Please Mr. Wolf, have me burned,
for that will be so easy," but this did not please the audience, and
another suggested that they take him to the briar patch, and throw him
into the thickest part of the sharp briars to scratch him to pieces,
to which the Rabbit said, "Oh, Mr. Fox, please do not allow me to be
thrown into the briars for they stick and scratch me so much that I
could never stand the pain"; and they all with one accord exclaimed,
"Throw him in," and they threw him into the briars, and the Rabbit
sped away as fast as he could, saying, "This is where I was reared,
this is my home, and this is all that I could desire."
MYTH EIGHT.
THE RABBIT AND THE POSSUM AFTER A WIFE.
The Rabbit and the Possum each wanted a wife, but no one would marry
either of them. They talked the matter over and the Rabbit said,
"We can't get wives here; let's go to the next settlement. I'm the
messenger for the council, and I'll tell the people that I bring an
order that everybody must take a mate at once, and then we'll be sure
to get wives."
The Possum thought this a fine plan, so they started off together
to the next town. As the Rabbit traveled faster he got there first
and waited outside until the people noticed him and took him into the
town-house. When the chief came to ask him his business the Rabbit said
he brought an important message from the council that everybody must
get married without delay. So the chief called the people together
and told them the message from the council, whereupon every animal
took a mate at once, and the Rabbit got a wife.
The Possum traveled so slowly that he got there after all the animals
had mated, leaving him still without a wife.
The Rabbit pretended to feel sorry for him and said, "Never mind, I'll
carry the message to the people in the next settlement, and you hurry
on as fast as you can, and this time you will get your wife." So he
went on to the next town, and the Possum followed close after him. But
when the Rabbit got to the town-house, he sent out the word that, as
there had been peace so long there that everybody was getting lazy,
the council had ordered that there must be war at once, and they must
begin right in the town-house. So they all began fighting, but the
Rabbit made four great leaps and got away just as the Possum came
in. Everybody jumped on the Possum, who had not thought of bringing
his weapons on a wedding trip, and so could not defend himself. They
had nearly beaten the life out of him when he fell over and pretended
to be dead until he saw a good chance to jump up and get away. The
Possum never got a wife, but he remembers the lesson, and ever since
he shuts his eyes and pretends to be dead when the hunter has him in
a close place.
MYTH NINE.
HOW THE TURKEY GOT HIS BEARD.
When the Terrapin won the race from the Rabbit (see Myth Six) all
the animals wondered and talked about it a great deal, because they
had always thought the Terrapin slow, although they knew that he was
a warrior and had many conjuring secrets besides.
But the Turkey was not satisfied, and told the others that there must
be some trick about it. Said he, "I know the Terrapin can't run--he
can hardly crawl--and I'm going to try him."
So one day the Turkey met the Terrapin coming home from war with
a fresh scalp hanging from his neck and dragging on the ground as
he traveled. The Turkey laughed at the sight and said: "That scalp
don't look right on you. Your neck is too short and low down to wear
it that way. Let me show you."
The Terrapin agreed and gave the scalp to the Turkey, who fastened
it around his neck. "Now," said the Turkey, "I'll walk a little way
and you can see how it looks." So he walked ahead a short distance and
then turned and asked the Terrapin how he liked it. Said the Terrapin,
"It looks very nice; it becomes you."
"Now, I'll fix it in a different way and let you see how it looks,"
said the Turkey. So he gave the string another pull and walked ahead
again. "Oh, that looks very nice," said the Terrapin. But the Turkey
kept on walking, and the Terrapin called to him to bring back the
scalp, but he only walked the faster and broke into a run.
Then the Terrapin got out his bow and by his conjuring art shot a
number of cane splits into the Turkey's legs, to cripple him so he
could not run, which accounts for all the many bones in the Turkey's
legs, that are of no use whatever; but the Terrapin never caught the
Turkey, who still wears the scalp from his neck.
MYTH TEN.
WHY THE TURKEY GOBBLES.
A long time ago the Grouse had a fine voice and a good halloo in
the ball play. All the animals and birds used to play ball in those
days and were just as proud of a loud halloo as the ball players of
today. The Turkey had a poor voice, so he asked the Grouse to give
him lessons. The Grouse agreed to teach him, but wanted pay for
his trouble, and the Turkey promised to give him some feathers to
make him a collar. This is how the Grouse got his collar of turkey
feathers. They began the lessons, and the Turkey learned very fast
until the Grouse thought it was time for the Turkey to try his
voice. "Now," said the Grouse, "I'll stand on this hollow log, and
when I give the signal by tapping on it, you must halloo as loudly as
you can." So he got upon the log ready to tap on it, as a Grouse does,
but when he gave the signal the Turkey was so eager and excited that
he could not raise his voice for a shout, but only gobbled, and ever
since then he gobbles whenever he hears a noise.
MYTH ELEVEN.
HOW THE KINGFISHER GOT HIS BILL.
Some old men tell us that the Kingfisher was meant in the beginning
to be a water bird, but as he had not been given either web feet or
a good bill he could not make a living.
The animals held a council over it and decided to make him a bill
like a long sharp awl for a fish-gig or spear.
They made him a fish-gig and fastened it on in front of his mouth. Me
flew to the top of a tree, sailed out and darted down into the water,
and came up with a fish on his gig; and he has been the best gigger
ever since.
Others say it was this way: A Blacksnake found a yellow-hammer's nest
in a hollow tree, and after swallowing the young birds, coiled up in
the nest to sleep, and when the mother bird found him there, she went
for help to the Little People, who sent her to the Kingfisher. He
came, and after flying back and forth past the hole a few times,
made one dart at the snake and pulled him out dead.
When they looked they found a hole in the snake's head where the
Kingfisher had pierced it with a slender tugaluna fish, which he
carried in his bill like a lance. From this the Little People concluded
that he would make a first-class gigger if he only had the right spear,
so they gave him his long bill as a reward, and he has ever since been
known among all the fowls and animals as the best fisherman among them.
MYTH TWELVE.
HOW THE PARTRIDGE GOT HIS WHISTLE.
In the old days, when the world was new, the Terrapin had a fine
whistle, but the Partridge had none. The Terrapin was constantly
going about whistling and showing his whistle to the other animals,
until the Partridge became jealous, so one day when they met, the
Partridge asked leave of the Terrapin to try the whistle.
The Terrapin was afraid to risk it at first, suspecting some trick,
but the Partridge said, "I'll give it back right away, and if you are
afraid you can stay with me while I practice." So the Terrapin let
him have the whistle and the Partridge walked around blowing on it in
fine fashion. "How does it sound with me?" asked the Partridge. "O,
you do very well," said the Terrapin, walking alongside. "Now, how do
you like it," said the Partridge, running ahead and whistling a little
faster. "That's fine," answered the Terrapin, hurrying to keep up,
"but don't run so fast." "And now how do you like this?" called the
Partridge, and with that he spread his wings, gave one long whistle,
and flew to the top of a tree, leaving the poor Terrapin to look
after him from the ground.
The Terrapin never recovered his whistle, and from that and the loss
of his scalp, which was stolen from him by the Turkey, he grew ashamed
to be seen, and ever since then he shuts himself up in his box when
anyone comes near him.
MYTH THIRTEEN.
HOW THE RED BIRD GOT HIS COLOR.
A Raccoon passing a Wolf one day made several insulting remarks,
until at last the Wolf became angry and turned and chased him. The
Raccoon ran his best, and managed to reach a tree by the river side
before the Wolf came up. He climbed the tree and stretched out on
a limb overhanging the water. When the Wolf arrived, he saw the
reflection in the water, and, thinking it was the Raccoon, jumped
at it and was nearly drowned before he could scramble out again,
all wet and dripping. He lay down on the bank to dry and fell asleep,
and while he was sleeping the Raccoon came down the tree and got some
blue-pipe clay and plastered his eyes so that he could not open them
and he began to howl and make a whining noise.
A little brown bird came along and hearing the Wolf crying, asked
what was the matter. The Wolf told his story and said: "If you will
get my eyes open, I will show you where to get some nice red paint
to paint yourself." "All right," said the brown bird; so he began to
peck at the mud and soon got his eyes open. Then the Wolf took him
to a rock that had streaks of bright red paint running through it,
and the little bird painted himself with it, and has ever since been
known as the Red-bird.
MYTH FOURTEEN.
THE PHEASANT BEATING CORN, THE ORIGIN OF THE PHEASANT DANCE.
The Pheasant once saw a woman beating corn in a wooden mortar in front
of the house. "I can do that, too," said he, but the woman would not
believe it, so the Pheasant went into the woods and got upon a hollow
log and "drummed" with his wings, as a Pheasant does, until the people
in the house heard him and thought he was really beating corn.
In the Pheasant dance, a part of the Green-Corn dance, the instrument
used is a drum, and the dancers beat the ground with their feet in
imitation of the drumming sound made by the Pheasant.
They form two concentric circles, the men beginning on the inside,
facing the women in the outer circle; each in turn advancing and
retreating at the signal of the drummer, who sits at one side and
sings the Pheasant songs. According to the story, there was once a
winter famine among the birds and animals. No mast could be found in
the woods, and they were near starvation when a Pheasant discovered a
holly tree, loaded with red berries, which the Pheasant is very fond
of. He called his companions, and they formed a circle about the tree,
singing, dancing and drumming with their wings in token of their joy,
and thus originated the Pheasant dance.
MYTH FIFTEEN.
THE RACE BETWEEN THE CRANE AND THE HUMMING-BIRD.
The Humming-Bird and the Crane were both in love with a pretty
woman. She preferred the Humming-bird, who was as handsome as the
Crane was awkward, but the Crane was so persistent that in order
to get rid of him she finally told him he must challenge the other
to a race and she would marry the winner. The Humming-bird was so
swift--almost like a flash of lightning--and the Crane so slow and
heavy, that she felt sure that the Humming-bird would win. She did
not know that the Crane could fly all night.
They agreed to start from her house and fly around the circle of the
world to the beginning, and the one who came in first would marry
the woman. At the word the Humming-bird darted off like an arrow and
was out of sight in a moment, leaving his rival to follow heavily
behind. He flew all day, and when evening came and he stopped to
roost for the night he was far ahead. But the Crane flew steadily
all night, passing the humming-bird soon after midnight, and going
on until he came to a creek and stopped to rest about daybreak. The
Humming-bird woke up in the morning and flew on again, thinking how
easily he would win the race, until he reached the creek, and there
found the Crane spearing tadpoles, with his long bill, for breakfast.
He was very much surprised and wondered how this could have happened,
but he flew swiftly by and soon left the Crane out of sight again. The
Crane finished his breakfast and started on, and when evening came
he kept on as before.
This time it was hardly midnight when he passed the Humming-bird
asleep on a limb, and in the morning he had finished his breakfast
before the other came up. The next day he gained a little more,
and on the fourth day he was spearing tadpoles for dinner when the
Humming-bird passed him. On the fifth and sixth days it was late in
the afternoon before the Humming-bird came up, and, on the morning
of the seventh day the Crane was a whole night's travel ahead.
He took his time at breakfast and then fixed himself up as nicely
as he could at the creek and came in at the starting place where the
woman lived, early in the morning.
When the Humming-bird arrived in the afternoon he found that he had
lost the race, but the woman declared she would never have such an
ugly fellow for a husband as the Crane.
Moral. Beware of fine feathers.
SNAKE, FISH AND INSECT MYTHS.
MYTH SIXTEEN.
THE SNAKE TRIBE.
The generic name for snake is inadu. They are all regarded as
inaduwehi, "supernaturals," having an intimate connection with the
rain and the thunder gods, and possessing a certain influence over the
other animals and plant tribes. It is said that the snakes, the deer,
and the ginseng act as allies, so that an injury to one is avenged
by the others. The feeling toward snakes is one mingled with fear
and reverence, and every precaution is taken to avoid the killing
or offending one, especially the rattlesnake. He who kills a snake
will soon see others; and should he kill a second one, so many will
come around him, whichever way he may turn, that he will become dazed
at the sight of their glistening eyes and darting tongues, and will
go wandering about like a crazy man, unable to find his way out of
the woods.
To guard against this misfortune there are certain prayers which the
initiated say in order that a snake may not cross their path, and on
meeting the first one of the season the hunter humbly begs of him,
"Let us not see each other this summer." Certain smells, as that
of the wild parsnip, and certain songs, as those of the Unikawi or
town-house dance, are offensive to the snakes and make them angry. For
this reason the Unikawi dance is held only late in the fall, after
they have retired to their dens for the winter.
When one dreams of being bitten by a snake he must be treated the
same as for the actual bite, because it is the snake ghost that has
bitten him; otherwise the place will swell and ulcerate in the same
way, even though it be years afterwards. For fear of offending them,
even in speaking, it is never said that a man has been bitten by a
snake, but only that he has been "scratched by a briar." Most of the
beliefs and customs in this connection have more special reference
to the rattlesnake.
The rattlesnake is called utsanati, which may be rendered, "he
has a bell," alluding to the rattles. According to their myths the
rattlesnake was once a man, and was transformed to his present shape
that he might save the human race from extermination by the Sun,
a mission which he accomplished successfully after others had failed.
By the old men he is also spoken of as "The Thunder's Necklace,"
and to kill one is to destroy one of the most prized ornaments of
the Thunder-god. In one of the formulas addressed to the Little Men,
the sons of the Thunder, they are implored to take the disease snake
to themselves, because, "It is just what you adorn yourselves with."
For obvious reasons the rattlesnake is regarded as the chief of the
tribe and is feared and respected accordingly. Few Cherokee will
venture to kill one except under absolute necessity, and even then
the crime must be atoned for by asking pardon of the snake ghost,
either through the mediation of a priest or in person according to
a set formula.
Otherwise, the relatives of the dead snake will send one of their
number to track up the offender and bite him, so that he will die. The
only thing of which it is said that the rattlesnake is afraid is the
plant known as campion, or "rattlesnake's master" (Silene Stella),
which is used by doctors to counteract the effect of the bite, and
it is believed that a snake will flee in terror from the hunter who
carries a small piece of the root about his person.
Notwithstanding the fear of the rattlesnake, his rattles, teeth,
flesh and oil are greatly prized for occult or medical uses, the
snake being killed for this purpose by certain priests who know the
necessary rites and formulas for obtaining pardon.
MYTH SEVENTEEN.
THE UKTENA AND THE ULUNSUTI.
Long ago--hilahiyu--when the Sun became angry at the people on earth,
and sent a sickness to destroy them, the Little Men changed a man
into a monster snake, as large as the trunk of a tree, with horns,
which they called the Uktena, "The Keen-eyed," and sent him to kill
her. He failed to do the work, and the Rattlesnake had to be sent
instead, which made the Uktena so jealous and angry that the people
were afraid of him and had him taken to Galunlati, to stay with the
other dangerous things. He left others behind him, though, nearly
as large and dangerous as himself, and they hide now in the deep
pools in the river and about lonely passes in the high mountains,
the places which the Cherokee call, "Where the Uktena stays."
Those who know say that the Uktena with its horns on its head has
a bright blazing crest like a diamond upon its forehead, and scales
glittering like sparks of fire upon its body. It has rings or spots
along its whole length, and cannot be wounded except by shooting in
the seventh spot from the head because under this spot are its heart
and its life.
The blazing spot is called Ulunsuti, "Transparent," and he who can
win it may become the greatest wonder-worker of the tribe, but it is
worth a man's life to attempt it, for whoever is seen by the Uktena
is so dazed by the bright light that he runs toward the snake instead
of trying to escape. Even to see the Uktena asleep is death, not to
the hunter himself, but to his family. Of all the daring warriors
who have started out in search of Ulunsu'ti only Agan-uni-tsi ever
came back successful.
The East Cherokee still keeps the one that he bought. It is like a
transparent crystal, nearly the shape of a cartridge bullet, with
blood-red streaks running thru the center from top to bottom. The
owner keeps it wrapped in a whole deerskin, inside an earthen vessel,
hidden away in a secret cave in the mountains.
Every seven days he feeds it with the blood of small game, rubbing
the blood all over the crystal as soon as the animal has been
killed. Twice a year it must have the blood of a deer or some other
large animal. Should he forget to feed it at the proper time it would
come out of the cave at night in a shape of fire and fly thru the
air to slake its thirst with the life blood of the conjurer or some
of his people.
He may save himself from this danger by telling it, when he puts it
away, that he will not need it again for a long time. It will then go
quietly to sleep and feel no hunger until it is again brought out to
be consulted. Then it must be fed again on blood before it is used. No
white man must ever see it, and no person but the owner will venture
near it for fear of sudden death.
Even the conjurer who keeps it is afraid of it, and changes its hiding
place every once in a while so that it cannot learn the way out. When
he dies it will be buried with him. Otherwise, it will come out of
its cave, like a blazing star, to search for his grave, night after
night for seven years, when, if still not able to find him, it will
go back to sleep forever where he has placed it.
Whoever owns the Ulunsuti is sure of success in hunting, love,
rain-making and every other business, but its great use is in life
prophecy. When it is consulted for this purpose the future is seen
mirrored in the clear crystal as a tree is reflected in the quiet
stream below, and the conjurer knows whether the sick man will recover,
whether the warrior will return from the battle, or whether the youth
will live to be old.
MYTH EIGHTEEN.
AGAN-UNI-TSI'S SEARCH FOR THE UKTENA.
In one of their battles with the Showano, who are all magicians, the
Cherokee captured a great medicine-man, whose name was Agan-uni-tsi,
"The Ground-Hog's Mother." They had tied him ready for the torture
when he begged for his life, and engaged, if they spared him, to find
for them the great wonder-worker, the Ulunsuti. Now, the Ulunsuti is
like a blazing star set in the forehead of the great Uktena serpent,
and the medicine-man who could possess it might do marvelous things,
but everyone knew that this could not be, because it was certain
death to meet the Uktena. They warned him of all this, but he only
answered that his medicine was strong and that he was not afraid. So
they gave him his life on that condition and he began the search.
The Uktena used to lie in wait in lonely places to surprise its
victims, and especially haunted the dark passes of the Great Smoky
Mountains. Knowing this, the magician went first to a gap in the
range on the far northern border of the Cherokee country. He searched
there and found a monster blacksnake, larger than had ever been known
before, but it was not what he was looking for, and he laughed at it
as something too small for notice.
Coming southward to the next gap he found there a moccasin snake,
the largest ever seen, but when the people wondered he said it was
nothing. In the next gap he found a green snake and called the people
to see it, (the pretty salikwaya), but when they found an immense
greensnake coiled up in the path they ran away in fear.
Coming on to Utawa-gun-ti, the Bald mountain, he found there a great
diyahali (lizard) basking, but, although it was large and terrible to
look at, it was not what he was looking for and he paid no attention to
it. Going still further south to Walasi-yi, the Frog place, he found
a great frog squatting in the gap but when the people who came to see
it were frightened like the others and ran away from the monster he
mocked at them for being afraid of a frog and went on to the next gap.
He went on to Duni-skwa-lgun-yi, the Gap of the Forked Antler, and to
the enchanted lake of Atagahi, and at each he found monstrous reptiles,
but he said they were nothing.
He thought that the Uktena might be hiding in the deep water at
Tlanusiyi, the Leech place, on Hiwassee, where other strange things
had been seen before, and going there he dived far down under the
surface. He saw turtles and water snakes, and two immense sun-perches
rushed at him and retreated again, but that was all.
Other places he tried, going always southward, and at last on Gahuti
mountain he found the Uktena asleep.
Turning without noise, he ran swiftly down the mountainside as far
as he could go with one long breath, nearly to the bottom of the
slope. Then he stopped and piled up a lot of pine-cones, and inside
of it he dug a deep trench. Then he set fire to the cones and came
back again up the mountain.
The Uktena was still asleep, and, putting an arrow to his bow,
Agan-uni-tsi shot and sent the arrow through its heart, which was
under the seventh spot from the serpent's head.
The great snake raised his head, with the diamond in front flashing
fire, and came straight at his enemy, but the magician, turning
quickly, ran at full speed down the mountain, cleared the circle
of fire and the trench at one bound, and lay down on the ground
inside. The Uktena tried to follow, but the arrow was thru his heart,
and in another moment he rolled over in his death struggle, spitting
poison over all the mountainside. The poison drops could not pass the
circle of fire, but only hissed and sputtered in the blaze, and the
magician on the inside was untouched except by one small drop which
struck upon his head as he lay close to the ground; but he did not
know it. The blood, too, as poisonous as the froth, poured from the
Uktena's wound and down the slope in a stream, but it ran into the
trench and left him unharmed.
The dying monster rolled over and over down the mountain, breaking down
large trees in its path until it reached the bottom. Then Agan-uni-tsi
called every bird in all the woods to come to the feast, and so many
came that when they were done not even the bones were left. After
seven days he went by night to the spot.
The body and the bones of the snake were gone, all eaten by the birds,
but he saw a bright light shining in the darkness, and going over
to it he found, resting on a low-hanging branch, where a raven had
dropped it, the diamond from the head of Uktena. He wrapped it up
carefully and took it with him, and from that time he became the
greatest medicine-man in the whole tribe.
When he came down again to the settlement the people noticed a small
snake hanging from his head where the single drop of poison from the
Uktena had struck him; but so long as he lived he himself never knew
that it was there.
Where the blood of the Uktena had filled the trench a lake formed
afterwards, and the water was black and in this water the women used
to dye the cane splits for their baskets.
MYTH NINETEEN.
THE RED MAN AND THE UKTENA.
Two brothers went hunting together, and when they came to a good
camping place in the mountains they made a fire, and while one gathered
bark to put up a shelter, the other started up the creek to look for a
deer. Soon he heard a noise on the top of the ridge as if two animals
were fighting. He hurried thru the brush to see what it might be,
and when he came to the spot he found a great Uktena coiled around
a man and choking him to death. The man was fighting for his life,
and called out to the hunter, "Help me, nephew; he is your enemy as
well as mine." The hunter took good aim, and, drawing the arrow to
the head, sent it thru the body of the Uktena, so that the blood
spouted from the hole. The snake loosed its coils with a snapping
noise, and went tumbling down the ridge into the valley, tearing up
the earth like a water-spout as it rolled.
The stranger stood up, and it was the Asgaya Gigagei, the Red Man of
the Lightning. He said to the hunter: "You have helped me, and now I
will reward you, and give you a medicine so that you can always find
game." They waited until it was dark, and then went down the ridge
to where the dead Uktena had rolled, but by this time the birds and
the insects had eaten the body and only the bones were left.
In one place were flashes of light coming up from the ground, and on
digging here, just under the surface, the Red Man found a scale of
the Uktena. Next he went over to the tree that had been struck by
lightning, and gathering a handful of splinters he made a fire and
burned the scale of the Uktena to a coal. He wrapped this in a piece
of deerskin and gave it to the hunter, saying: "As long as you keep
this you can always kill game."
Then he told the hunter that when he went back to camp he must hang
up the medicine on a tree outside, because it was very strong and
dangerous. He told him also that when he went into the cabin he would
find his brother lying inside nearly dead on account of the presence
of the Uktena scale, but he must take a small piece of cane, which
the Red Man gave him, and scrape a little of it into water and give
it to his brother to drink, and he would be well again.
Then the Red Man was gone, and the hunter could not see where he
went. He returned to camp alone, and found his brother very sick,
but soon cured him with the medicine from the cane, and that day and
the next, and every day after, he found game whenever he went for it.
MYTH TWENTY.
THE HUNTER AND THE UKSUHI.
A man living down in Georgia came to visit some relatives at
Hickory-log. He was a great hunter, and after resting for some days,
got ready to go into the mountains. His friends warned him not to go
toward the north, as in that direction, near a certain large uprooted
tree, there lived a dangerous monster Uksuhi snake.
It kept constant watch, and whenever it could spring upon an unwary
hunter it would coil about him and crush out his life in its folds,
and then drag the dead body down the mountainside into a deep hole in
Hiwassee river. He listened quietly to the warning, but all they said
only made him the more anxious to see such a monster, so, without
saying anything of his intentions, he left the settlement and took
his way directly up the mountain toward the north.
Soon he came to the fallen tree and climbed upon the trunk, and there,
sure enough, on the other side was the great Uksuhi stretched out in
the grass, with its head raised, but looking the other way.
It was as large as a common trunk of a tree, and at the sight of this
terrible monster the hunter became so much frightened that he made
haste to get down from the log and started to run; but the great snake
had heard him approach, and the noise as he started to make his escape,
whereupon it turned quickly and pursued him.
Up the ridge the hunter ran, the snake close behind him, then down
the other side toward the river, but with all his running the Uksuhi
gained rapidly, and just as he reached the low ground it caught up
with him and wrapped around him, pinning one arm down by his side,
but leaving the other free. Now, it gave him a terrible squeeze that
almost broke his ribs, and then began to drag him along toward the
water. With his free hand the hunter began to clutch at the bushes
as they passed, but the snake turned his head and blew its sickening
breath into his face, until he had to let go his hold.
Again and again this happened, and all the time they were getting
nearer and nearer to a deep hole in the river, when, almost at the last
moment, a lucky thought came into the hunter's mind. He was sweating
all over from his run across the mountain, and suddenly remembered to
have heard that snakes cannot bear the smell of perspiration. Putting
his free hand into his bosom he worked it around under his armpit
until it was covered with perspiration. Then withdrawing it, he
grasped at a bush until the snake turned its head, when he quickly
slapped his sweaty hand on its nose. The Uksuhi gave one gasp almost
as if it had been wounded, loosened its coil, and glided swiftly
away thru the bushes, leaving the hunter, bruised but not disabled,
to make his way home to the Hickory-log.
MYTH TWENTY-ONE.
THE USTUTLI.
There was once a great serpent, called the Ustutli, that made its
haunt upon Cohutta mountain. It was called the Ustutli or "foot" snake,
because it did not glide like other snakes, but had feet at each end of
its body, and moved by strides or jerks, like a great measuring worm.
These feet were three-cornered and flat and could hold to the ground
like suckers. It had no legs, but would raise itself up on its hind
feet, with its snaky head high in the air until it found a good place
to take a fresh hold; then it would bend down and grip its front feet
to the ground while it drew its body up from behind.
It could cross rivers and deep ravines by throwing its head across,
and getting a grip with its front feet, and then swing its body
over. Wherever its footprints were found there was danger.
It used to bleat like a young fawn, and when the hunter heard a fawn
bleat in the woods he never looked for it, but hurried away in the
other direction. Up the mountain or down, nothing could escape the
Ustutli's pursuit, but along the side of the ridge it could not go,
because the great weight of its swinging head broke its hold on the
ground when it moved sideways.
It came to pass after awhile that not a hunter about Cohutta would
venture near the mountain for dread of the Ustutli.
At last a man from one of the northern settlements came down to visit
some relatives in that neighborhood. When he arrived they made a feast
for him, but only had corn and beans, and excused themselves for having
no meat because the hunters were afraid to go into the mountains. He
asked the reason, and when they told him he said he would go himself
tomorrow and either bring in a deer or find the Ustutli. They tried
to dissuade him from it, but as he insisted upon going they warned
him that if a fawn bleated in the thicket he must run at once and if
the snake came after him he must not try to run down the mountain,
but along the side of the ridge.
In the morning he started out, and went directly to the
mountain. Working his way thru the bushes at the base, he suddenly
heard a fawn bleat in front. He guessed at once that it was the
Ustutli, but he had made up his mind to see it, so he did not
turn back, but went straight forward, and there, sure enough, was
the monster, with its great head in the air, as high as the pine
branches, looking in every direction to discover a deer, or maybe
a man, for breakfast. It saw him and came at him at once, moving
in jerky strides, every one the length of a tree trunk, holding its
scaly head high above the bushes and bleating as it came. The hunter
was so badly frightened that he lost his wits entirely and started
to run directly up the mountain.
The great snake came after him, gaining half its length on him
every time it took a fresh grip with its fore feet, and would have
caught the hunter before he reached the top of the ridge, but that he
suddenly remembered the warning and changed his course to run along
the side of the mountain. At once the snake began to lose ground,
for every time it raised itself up the weight of its body threw it
out of a straight line and made it fall a little lower down the side
of the ridge. It tried to recover itself, but now the hunter gained
and kept on until he turned the end of the ridge and left the snake
out of sight. Then he cautiously climbed to the top and looked over
and saw the Ustutli still slowly working its way toward the summit.
He went down to the base of the mountain, opened his fire pouch,
and set fire to the grass and leaves. Soon the fire ran all around
the mountain and began to climb upward.
When the great serpent smelled the smoke and saw the flames coming,
it forgot all about the hunter and turned to make all speed for a
high cliff near the summit. It reached the rock and got upon it,
but the fire followed and caught the dead pines about the base of
the cliff until the heat made the Ustutli's scales crack.
Taking a close grip of the rock with its hind feet, it raised its
body and put forth all its strength in an effort to spring across
the wall of fire that surrounded it, but the smoke choked it and its
hold loosened and it fell among the blazing pine trunks and lay there
until it was burned to ashes.
MYTH TWENTY-TWO.
THE UWTSUNTA.
At Nundayeli, the wildest spot in Nantahala river, (in what is now
Macon County, North Carolina), where the overhanging cliff is highest
and the river far below, there lived in the old time a great snake
called the Uwtsunta (or bouncer), because it moved by jerks like a
measuring worm, with only one part of its body on the ground at a
time. It stayed generally on the east side, where the sun came first
in the morning, and used to cross by reaching over from the highest
point of the cliff until it could get a grip on the other side,
when it would pull over the rest of its body.
It was so immense that when it was thus stretched across, its shadow
darkened the whole valley below.
For a long time the people did not know it was there, but when at
last they found out that such a monster inhabited the country, they
were afraid to live in the valley, so that it was deserted long before
the Indians were removed from the country.
MYTH TWENTY-THREE.
THE SNAKE BOY.
There was a boy who used to go bird hunting every day, and all the
birds he brought home to give to his grandmother, who was very fond
of him. This made the rest of the family jealous, and they treated
him in such fashion that at last one day he told his grandmother he
would leave them all, but that she must not grieve for him.
Next morning he refused to eat any breakfast, but went off hungry to
the woods and was gone all day. In the evening he returned, bringing
with him a pair of deer horns, and went directly to the hothouse
(Asi), where his grandmother was waiting for him. He told the old
woman that he must be alone that night, so she got up and went into
the house where the others were.
At early daybreak she came again to the hothouse and looked in, and
there she saw an immense Uktena that filled the Asi, with horns on
its head, but still with two human legs instead of a snake's tail.
It was all that was left of her boy. He spoke to her and told her to
leave him, and she went away again from the door. When the sun was
well up, the Uktena began slowly to crawl out, but it was full noon
before it was all out of the Asi. It made a terrible hissing noise
as it came out, and all the people ran from it.
It crawled on thru the settlement, leaving a broad trail in the ground
behind it, until it came to a deep bend in the river, where it plunged
in and went under the water.
The grandmother grieved much for the boy, until the others of the
family got angry and told her that she thought so much of him that
she ought to go and stay with him. So she left them and went along
the trail made by the Uktena to the river and walked directly into
the water and disappeared. Once after that a man fishing near the
place saw her sitting on a large rock in the river, looking just as
she had always looked, but as soon as she caught sight of him she
jumped into the water and was gone.
MYTH TWENTY-FOUR.
THE SNAKE MAN.
Two hunters, both for some reason under a tabu against the meat of
a squirrel or turkey, had gone into the woods together. When evening
came, they found a good camping place and lighted a fire to prepare
their supper. One of them had killed several squirrels during the day,
and now got ready to broil them over the fire.
His companion warned him that if he broke the tabu and ate squirrel
meat he would become a snake, but the other laughed and said that was
only a conjurer's story. He went on with the preparation, and when
the squirrels were roasted made his supper of them and then lay down
by the fire to sleep.
Late that night his companion was aroused by groaning, and on looking
around he found the other lying on the ground rolling and twisting in
agony, and with the lower part of his body already changed to the body
and tail of a large watersnake. The man was still able to speak and
call loudly for help, but his companion could do nothing, but only sit
by and try to comfort him while he watched the arms sink into his body
and the skin take on a scaly change that mounted gradually toward the
neck, until at last even the head was a serpent's head and the great
snake crawled away from the fire and down the bank into the river,
and was never seen again.
MYTH TWENTY-FIVE.
THE RATTLESNAKE'S REVENGE.
One day in the olden times, when we could still talk with other
creatures, while some children were playing about the house, their
mother inside heard them scream. Running outside she found that a
rattlesnake had crawled from the grass, and taking up a stick she
killed it. The father was out hunting in the mountains, and that
evening when coming home after dark thru the gap, he heard a strange
wailing sound. Looking about he found that he had come into the midst
of a whole company of rattlesnakes, all of which had their mouths open
and seemed to be crying. He asked them the reason of their trouble,
and they told him that his own wife had that day killed their chief,
the Yellow Rattlesnake, and they were just now about to send the
Black Rattlesnake to take revenge.
The hunter said he was very sorry, but they told him that if he spoke
the truth that he must be ready to make satisfaction and give his
wife as a sacrifice for the life of their chief. Not knowing what
might happen otherwise, he consented. They then told him that the
Black Rattlesnake would go home with him and coil up just outside
the door in the dark. He must go inside, where he would find his wife
awaiting him, and ask her to get him a fresh drink of water from the
spring. That was all. He went home and knew that the Black Rattlesnake
was following. It was night when he arrived and very dark, but he found
his wife waiting with his supper ready. He sat down and asked for a
drink of water. She handed him a gourd full from the jar, but he said
he wanted it fresh from the spring, so she took a bowl and went out of
the door. The next moment he heard a cry, and going out he found that
the Black Rattlesnake had bitten her and that she was already dying.
He stayed with her until she was dead, when the Black Rattlesnake
came out from the grass again and said his tribe was now satisfied.
He then taught the hunter a prayer song, and said, "When you meet
any of us hereafter sing this song and we will not hurt you; but if
by accident one of us should bite one of your tribe, then sing this
song over him and he will recover." And the Cherokee have kept this
song and sing it until this day.
MYTH TWENTY-SIX.
THE NEST OF THE TLANUWAS.
On the north bank of Little Tennessee river, in a bend below the
mouth of Citico creek, in Blount County, Tennessee, is a high cliff
hanging over the water, and about half way up the face of the rock is
a cave with two openings. The rock projects outward above the cave,
so that the mouth cannot be seen from above, and it seems impossible
to reach the cave either from above or below.
There are white streaks in the rock from the cave down to the
water. The Cherokee call it Tlanuwai (the place of the Great Mythic
Hawk).
In the old time, away back soon after the creation, a pair of Tlanuwas
had their nest in this cave. They were immense birds, larger than
any that live now, and very strong and savage.
They were forever flying up and down the river, and used to come into
the settlements and carry off dogs and even young children playing
near the houses. No one could reach the nest to kill them, and when
the people tried to shoot them the arrows only glanced off and were
seized and carried away in the talons of the Tlanuwas.
At last the people went to a great medicine man, who promised to
help them. Some were afraid that if he failed to kill the Tlanuwas
they would take revenge on the people, but the medicine man said he
could fix that. He made a long rope of linn bark, just as the Cherokee
still do, with loops in it for his feet, and had the people let him
down from the top of the cliff at a time when he knew that the old
birds were away.
When he came opposite the mouth of the cave he still could not reach
it, because the rocks above hung over, so he swung himself backward
and forward several times until the rope swung near enough for him
to pull himself into the cave with a hooked stick that he carried,
which he managed to fasten in some bushes growing at the entrance.
In the nest he found four young ones, and on the floor of the cave
were the bones of all sorts of animals and children that had been
carried there by the hawks. He pulled the young ones out of the nest
and threw them over the cliff into the deep water below, where a
great Uktena serpent that lived there finished them.
Just then he saw the two old ones coming, and had hardly time to
climb up again to the top of the rock before they reached the nest.
When they found the nest empty they were furious, and circled round
and round in the air until they saw the snake put its head from the
water. Then they darted straight downward, and while one seized the
snake in his talons and flew far up in the sky with it, his mate struck
at it and bit off piece after piece until nothing was left. They were
so high up that when the pieces fell they made holes in the rocks,
which are still to be seen there, at the place which we call, "Where
the Tlanuwa cut it up," opposite the mouth of Citico. Then the two
hawks circled up and up until they went out of sight, and they have
never been seen any more.
MYTH TWENTY-SEVEN.
THE HUNTER AND THE TLANUWA.
A hunter out in the woods one day saw a Tlanuwa overhead and tried to
hide from it, but the great bird had already seen him, and, sweeping
down, struck its claws into his hunting pack, and carried him far
up into the air. As it flew, the Tlanuwa, which was a mother-bird,
spoke and told the hunter that he need not be afraid, as she would
not hurt him, but only wanted him to stay awhile with her young ones
to guard them until they were old enough to leave the nest.
At last they alighted at the mouth of a cave in the face of a steep
cliff. Inside, the water was dripping from the roof, and at the
farther end was a nest of sticks in which were two young birds.
The old Tlanuwa set the hunter down and then flew away, returning
soon with a fresh-killed deer, which it tore to pieces, giving the
first piece to the hunter and then feeding the two young hawks.
The hunter stayed in the cave for many days until the young birds
were nearly grown, and every day the old mother bird would fly away
from the nest and return in the evening with a deer or a bear, of
which she always gave the first piece to the hunter. He grew very
anxious to see his home again, but the Tlanuwa kept telling him not
to be uneasy, but to wait a little while longer. At last he made up
his mind to escape from the cave and finally studied out the plan.
The next morning, after the great hawk had gone, he dragged one of
the young birds to the mouth of the cave and tied himself to one of
its legs with a strap from his hunting pack. Then with the flat side
of the tomahawk he struck it several times on the head until it was
dazed and helpless, then pushed the bird and himself together off
the shelf of rock into the air. They fell far, far down toward the
earth, but the air from below held up the bird's wings, so that it
was almost as if they were flying. As the Tlanuwa revived it tried
to fly upward toward the nest, but the hunter struck it again with
his hatchet until it was dazed and dropped again.
At last they came down in the top of a poplar tree, when the hunter
cut the strap from the leg of the bird and let it fly away, first
pulling out a feather from its wing. He climbed down from the tree
and went home to the settlement, but when he looked in his pack for
the feather, he found that he only had a stone, for the Great Mythic
Hawk had power to turn many objects into whatever it pleased.
MYTH TWENTY-EIGHT.
UTLUNTA, THE SPEAR FINGER.
Long, long ago, there lived in the mountains a terrible ogress,
a woman monster, whose food was human livers. She could take on any
shape that she pleased, or that suited her purpose, but in her right
form she looked very much like an old woman, excepting that her whole
body was covered with a skin as hard as a rock, that no weapon could
wound or penetrate, and that on her right hand she had a long, stony
finger of bone, like an awl or spear-head, with which she stabbed
everyone to whom she could get near enough. On account of this fact
she was called Utlunta, "Spear Finger," and on account of her stony
skin she was sometimes called Nunyunuwi, "Stone-dress."
There was another stone-clothed monster that killed people, but that
is a different story.
Spear-finger had such power over stone that she could easily lift and
carry immense rocks, and could cement them together by merely striking
one against another. To get over the rough country more easily she
undertook to build a great bridge through the air from Nunyutlugunyi,
the "Tree Rock," on Hiwassee, over to Sanigilagi (Whiteside Mountain,
in Jackson County, North Carolina,) on the Blue Ridge, and had it well
started from the top of "Tree rock" when the lightning struck it and
scattered the fragments along the whole ridge, where the pieces can
still be seen by those who go there.
She used to range all over the mountains about the heads of the streams
and in the dark passes of Nantahala, always hungry and looking for
victims. Her favorite haunt on the Tennessee side of the Great Smoky
Mountains was about the gap on the trail where Chilhowee Mountains
come down to the river.
Sometimes the old woman would approach along the trail where the
children were picking strawberries or playing near the village, and
would say to them coaxingly, "Come, my grand children, come to your
granny and let granny dress your hair." When some little girl ran up
and laid her head in the old woman's lap to be petted and combed,
the old witch would gently run her fingers thru the child's hair
until it went to sleep, when she would stab the little one thru
the heart or back of the neck with the long awl finger, which she
had kept hidden under her robe. Then she would take out the liver
and eat it. She would enter the house by taking the appearance of
one of the family who happened to have gone out for a short time,
and would watch her chance to stab some one with her long finger
and take out his liver. She could stab him without being noticed,
and often the victim did not even know it himself at the time--for it
left no wound and caused no pain--but went on about his own affairs,
until all at once he felt weak and began to pine away, and was always
sure to die, because Spear-finger had taken his liver.
When the Cherokee went out in the fall, according to their custom,
to burn leaves off from the mountains in order to get the chestnuts
on the ground, they were never safe, for the old witch was always on
the lookout, and as soon as she saw the smoke rise she knew there
were Indians there and she would sneak up and try to surprise one
alone. So as well as they could they would try to keep together, and
were very cautious of allowing any stranger to approach the camp. But
if one went to the spring for a drink, they never knew but it might
be the liver-eater that came back and sat with them. At last a great
council was held to devise some means to get rid of the old witch
before she should destroy everybody. The people came from all around
to Nikwasi, (mound now near Franklin, N. C.) and after much talking it
was decided that the best way to secure her demise would be to trap her
in a pitfall where all the warriors could attack her at once. So they
dug a deep pitfall across the path and covered it over with earth and
grass as if the ground had never been disturbed. Then they kindled a
large fire of brush near the trail and hid themselves in the laurels,
because they knew that she would come as soon as she saw the smoke.
Sure enough they soon saw an old woman coming along the trail. She
looked very much like an old woman that they knew in the village,
and although several of the wiser men wanted to shoot at her, the
others interfered, because they did not want to hurt one of their
own people. The old woman came slowly along the trail, with one hand
under her blanket, until she stepped upon the pitfall and tumbled
through the brush top into the deep hole below. Then, at once, she
showed her true nature, and instead of the old feeble woman there was
the terrible Utlunta with her stony skin, and her sharp awl finger
reaching out in every direction for some one to stab.
The hunters rushed out from the thicket and surrounded the pit, but
shoot as true and as often as they could, the arrows struck the stony
mail of the witch only to be broken and fall useless at her feet,
while she taunted them and tried to climb out of the pit to get at
them. They kept out of her way, but were only wasting their arrows
when a small bird, Utsugi, the titmous, perched on a tree overhead and
began to sing, "un, un, un." They thought it was saying unqhu, heart,
meaning that they should aim at the heart of the stone witch. They
directed their arrows where the heart should be, but the arrows only
glanced off with the flint heads broken.
Then they caught the Utsugi and cut off its tongue, so that ever
since its tongue is short and everybody knows that it is a liar.
When the hunters let it go, it flew straight up into the sky until it
was out of sight, and it never came back any more, and the titmouse
that we know now is only an image of the other.
They kept up the fight without result until another bird, little
Tsikilili, the chickadee, flew down from a tree and alighted upon the
witch's right hand. The warriors took this as a sign that they must
aim there, and they were right, for her heart was on the inside of
her hand, which she kept doubled up into a fist, this same awl-hand
with which she had stabbed so many people. Now she was frightened
in earnest, and began to rush furiously at them with her long awl
finger, and to jump about in the pit to dodge the arrows, until at
last an arrow struck her just where the awl finger joined her wrist
and she fell down dead. Ever since then the Tsikilili is known as a
truth-teller, and when a man is away on a journey, if this bird comes
and perches near the house and chirps its song, his friends know that
he will soon reach his home in safety, and his friends will greet
him upon his arrival.
MYTH TWENTY-NINE.
NUNYUNUWI, THE STONE MAN.
This is what the old men used to tell us when we were boys. Once when
all the people of the settlement were out in the mountains on a great
hunt, one man who had gone ahead climbed to the top of a high ridge
and found a large river on the other side.
While he was looking across he saw an old man walking about on the
opposite ridge, with a cane that seemed to be made of some bright,
shining rock. The hunter watched and saw that every little while the
old man would point his cane in a certain direction, then draw it
back and smell the end of it. At last he pointed it in the direction
of the hunter's camp on the other side of the mountain, and this
time when he drew back the staff he sniffed it several times as if
it smelled very good, and then started along the ridge straight for
the camp. He moved very slowly, with the help of the cane, until he
reached the end of the ridge, when he threw the cane out into the
air and it became a bridge of shining rock stretching across the river.
After he had crossed over upon the bridge it became a cane again
and the old man picked it up and started over the mountain toward
the camp. The hunter was frightened, and felt sure that it meant
mischief, so he hurried on down the mountain and took the shortest
trail back to the camp to get there before the old man. When he got
there and told his story the medicine-man said the old man was a
wicked cannibal monster called Nunyunuwi, "Dressed in Stone," who
lived in the Nantahala mountains, and was always going about thru
the forest looking for some hunter that he might kill and eat him.
It was very hard to escape from him, because his cane guided him as a
dog, and it was nearly as hard to kill him, for his body was entirely
covered with a skin of solid rock. If he came he would kill and eat
them all, and there was only one way to save their lives.
He could not bear to look upon a woman, and if they could bring to
the path seven married women, that the sight of them would kill him,
and they would rid themselves of him. So they ran swiftly and brought
quickly as many women as they could find, and placed them along the
trail, and when the old man came, he saw one woman standing near the
trail and the very sight of her made him sick and he cried out, "Yu,
my grandchild, I hate the sight of woman!" He hurried past her and in
a moment he saw the second woman standing as he had seen the other,
and he cried out again, "Yu! my child; I hate the tribe of women, and
he hurried past her, and he continued along the trail until he came
to the seventh, and by this time he had become so much enraged that
he fell down almost dead. Then the medicine-man drove seven sourwood
switches through his body and pinned him to the ground, and when night
came they piled great logs over him and set fire to them, and all the
people gathered around to see. Nunyunuwi was a great adawehi and knew
many secrets, and now as the fire came close to him he began to talk,
and told them the medicine for all kinds of sickness. At midnight
he began to sing, and sang the hunting songs for calling up the bear
and deer and all the animals of the woods and mountains.
As the blaze grew hotter his voice sank lower and lower, until at
last when the daylight came, the logs were a heap of white ashes and
the voice was still. Then the medicine-man told them to rake off the
ashes, and where the body had lain they found only a large lump of
wadi paint and a magic Ulunsuti stone. He kept the stone for himself,
and calling the people around him he painted them on the face and
breast with the red wadi, and whatever each person prayed for while
the painting was being done, whether for hunting success, for working
skill, or for long life--that gift was his.
MYTH THIRTY.
THE HUNTER AND DAKWA.
In the old days there was a great fish called the Dakwa, which lived
in the Tennessee river where Toco creek comes in at Dakwai, the "Dakwa
place," above the mouth of Tellico, and which was so large that it
could easily swallow a man. Once a canoe filled with warriors was
crossing over from the town on the other side of the river, when the
Dakwa suddenly rose up under the boat and threw them all into the
air. As they came down it swallowed one with a single snap of its
jaws and dived with him to the bottom of the river.
As soon as the hunter came to his senses he found that he had not been
hurt, but it was so hot and close inside the Dakwa that he was nearly
smothered. As he groped around in the dark his hand struck a lot of
mussel shells which the fish had swallowed, and taking one of these for
a knife he began to cut his way out, until soon the fish grew uneasy
at the scraping inside his stomach and came up to the top of the water
for air. He kept on cutting until the fish was in such pain that it
swam this way and that across the stream and thrashed the water into
foam with its tail. Finally the hole was so large that he could look
out, and found that the fish was resting in shallow water near the
shore. The Dakwa soon became so sick from the wound that it vomited
the hunter out of its mouth, and he with the others made their escape
to Tellico, but the juices in the stomach of the fish made the hair
fall from the head of the hunter so that he was bald ever after that.
MYTH THIRTY-ONE.
ATAGAHI, THE ENCHANTED LAKE.
(This is the scene of the myth upon which the story of Occoneechee
is founded.)
Westward from the headwaters of Oconaluftee river, in the wildest
depths of the Great Smoky Mountains, which form the line between North
Carolina and Tennessee, is the enchanted lake of Atagahi, "Gall place."
Although all of the Cherokee know that it is there, no one has ever
seen it, for the way is so difficult that only the animals know how to
reach it. Should a stray hunter come near the place he would know of
it by the whirring sound of the wings of thousands of wild ducks and
pigeons flying about the lake, but on reaching the spot he would find
only a dry flat, without bird or animal or blade of grass, unless he
had first sharpened his spiritual vision by prayer and fasting and
an all-night vigil.
Because the lake is not seen, some people think that the lake is dried
up long ago, but this is not true. To one that had kept watch and
fasted all the night it would appear at daybreak as a wide-extending,
but shallow sheet of pure water, fed by springs spouting from the
high cliffs around. In the water are all kinds of fish and reptiles,
and swimming upon the surface or flying overhead are great flocks of
ducks and pigeons, while all about the shore are bear tracks crossing
in every direction. It is the medicine lake of the birds and animals,
and whenever a bear is wounded by the hunter he makes his way thru
the woods to this lake and plunges into the water, and when he comes
out upon the other side his wounds are healed, and for this reason
the animals keep the lake invisible to the hunter.
MYTH THIRTY-TWO.
THE BRIDE FROM THE SOUTH.
The North went traveling, and after going far and meeting many
different tribes he finally fell in love with the daughter of the
South and wanted to marry her. The girl was willing, but her parents
objected and said, "Ever since you came the weather has been cold,
and if you stay here we will all freeze to death." The North pleaded
hard, and said if they would let him have their daughter, he would
take her back to his own country, so at last they consented.
They were married and he took his bride back to his own country,
and when they arrived there she found the people all living in ice
houses. The next day, when the sun rose, the houses began to leak,
and as it climbed higher the houses began to melt, and it grew warmer
and warmer, until finally the people came to the young husband and told
him he must send his wife home again, or the weather would get so warm
that the whole settlement would be melted. He loved his wife and so
held out as long as he could, but as the sun grew hotter the people
were more urgent, and at last he had to send her home to her parents,
but they agreed that she might return once a year for a short season,
but that she should never come to live in the North again, for as she
was reared in the South, that her whole nature was warm and that she
was unfit to dwell in the North.
MYTH THIRTY-THREE.
THE ICE MAN.
Once when the people were burning the woods in the fall, and the blaze
set fire to a poplar tree, which continued to burn until the fire
went down into the roots and burned a great hole in the ground. It
burned, and burned, and the hole grew constantly larger, until the
people became frightened and were afraid that it would burn the whole
world. They tried to put out the fire, but it had gone too deep,
and they did not know what to do. At last some one said there was a
man living in a house of ice far in the north who could put out the
fire, so messengers were sent, and after traveling a long distance
they came to the ice house and found the Ice Man at home. He was
a little fellow with long hair hanging down to the ground in two
plaits. The messengers told him their errand and he at once said,
"O yes, I can help you," and began to unplait his hair.
When it was once all unbraided he took it up in one hand and struck
it once across the other hand, and the messengers felt the wind blow
against their cheeks. A second time he struck his hair across his
hand, and a light rain began to fall. The third time he struck his
hair across his open hand there was sleet mixed with the rain drops,
and when he struck the fourth time great hailstones fell upon the
ground, as if they had come out from the ends of the hair. "Go back
now," said the Ice Man, "and I shall be there tomorrow."
So the messengers returned to their people, whom they found still
gathered helplessly about the great burning pit. The next day while
they were all gathered about the fire, there came a wind from the
north, and they were afraid, for they knew that it came from the
Ice Man. But the wind only made the fire blaze higher. The light
rain began to fall, but the drops seemed only to make the fire
hotter. Then the shower turned to a heavy rain, with sleet and hail
that killed the blaze and made clouds of smoke and steam rise from the
red coals. The people fled to their homes for shelter, and the storm
rose to a whirlwind that drove the rain into every burning crevice
and piled great hailstones over the embers, until the fire was dead
and even the smoke ceased. When at last it was all over, and the
people returned, they found a lake where the burning pit had been,
and from below the water came a sound as of embers still crackling.
MYTH THIRTY-FOUR.
THE HUNTER AND SELU.
A hunter had been tramping over the mountains all day long without
finding any game, and when the sun went down, he built a fire in a
hollow stump, swallowed a few mouthfuls of corn gruel and lay down
to sleep, tired out and completely discouraged.
About the middle of the night he dreamed and seemed to hear the sound
of beautiful singing, which continued until near daybreak, and then
appeared to die away in the upper air.
All the next day he hunted, with the same poor success, and at night
made his lonely camp in the woods. He slept, and the same strange
dream came again, but so vividly that it seemed to him like an actual
happening. Rousing himself before daylight, he still heard the same
song, and feeling sure now that it was real, he went in the direction
of the sound and found that it came from a single green stalk of corn
(selu).
The plant spoke to him, and told him to cut off some of its roots
and take them to his home in the settlement, and the next morning
to chew them and "go to water" before anyone else was awake, and
then to go out again into the woods, and he would kill many deer,
and from that time on would always be successful in the hunt.
The corn plant continued to talk, teaching him hunting secrets and
telling him to be always generous with the game he took, until it was
noon and the sun was high, when it suddenly took the form of a woman
and rose gracefully into the air and was gone from sight, leaving
the hunter alone in the woods. He returned home and told his story,
and all the people knew that he had seen Selu, the wife of Kanati. He
did as the spirit had directed, and from that time was noted as the
most successful of all the hunters in the settlement.
MYTH THIRTY-FIVE.
THE NUNNEHI AND OTHER SPIRIT FOLKS.
The Nunnehi or Immortals, the "People who live everywhere," were a
race of spirit people who lived in the highlands of the old Cherokee
country and had a great many town-houses, and especially on the tops
of the bald mountains, the high peaks where no timber grows.
They had large town-houses on Pilot Knob, and in Nik-Wasi mound,
in what is now Macon County, North Carolina, and another in Blood
Mountain, and at the head of Nottely river in Georgia. They were
invisible excepting when they wanted to be seen, and they looked
and spoke just like other Indians. They were very fond of music and
dancing, and hunters in the mountains would often hear the dance songs
and the drum-beating in some invisible town-house, but when they went
toward the sound it would shift about and they would hear it behind
them or away in some other direction, so that they could never find
the place where the dance was.
They were a friendly people, too, and often brought lost wanderers to
their town-houses under the mountains, and cared for them there until
they were rested, and guided them back to their homes. There was a
man who lived in Nottely town who had been with the Nunnehi, when he
was a boy about twelve years old, and this is the story he tells.
One day, when he was playing near the river, shooting at a mark with
his bow and arrows, until he became tired, and started to build a
fish-trap in the water. While he was piling up the rocks in two long
walls, a man came and stood on the bank and asked him what he was
doing. The man said, "Well, that is pretty hard work, and you ought
to come and rest awhile; come and take a walk up the river."
The boy said, "No"; that he was going home to dinner soon. "Come right
up to my house," said the stranger, "and I'll give you a good dinner
there, and will bring you home again in the morning."
So the boy went with him up the river until they came to a house, when
they went in, and the man's wife and the other people there were very
glad to see him, and gave him a fine dinner, and were very kind to him.
While they were eating, another boy that the boy knew very well came
in and spoke to him, so that he felt very much at home.
After dinner he played with the other children, and slept there that
night, and in the morning, after breakfast, the man got ready to take
him home. They went down a path that had a cornfield on one side and
a peach orchard on the other, until they came to another trail, and
the man said, "Go along this trail across that ridge and you will
come to the river road that will bring you straight to your home,
and now I'll go back to the house."
So the man went back to the house, and the boy went on along the trail,
but when he had gone a little distance he looked back, and there was
no cornfield or orchard or fence or house; nothing but trees on the
mountainside. He thought it rather queer, but somehow he was not
frightened, and went on until he came to the river trail in sight
of his house. There were a great many people standing about talking,
and when they saw him they ran toward him shouting, "Here he is! He
is not drowned or killed in the mountains!" They told him that they
had been hunting him ever since yesterday noon, and asked him where he
had been. He told them the story of what had happened, and they said
there is no house there, and it was the Nunnehi that had you with them.
Once four Nunnehi women came to dance at Nottely town, and danced half
of the night with the young men there, and nobody knew that they were
Nunnehi, but thought them visitors from another settlement. About
midnight they left to go home, and some men who had come out from
the town-house to cool off watched to see which way they went. They
saw the women go down the trail to the river ford, but just as they
came to the water they disappeared, although it was a plain trail,
with no place where they could hide. Then the watchers knew that they
were Nunnehi. At another time a man was crossing over from Nottely
to Hemptown, in Georgia, and heard a drum and the songs of dancers
in the hills on one side of the trail. He rode to see who could be
dancing in such a place, but when he reached the spot the drum and the
songs were behind him, and he was so frightened that he hurried back
to the trail and rode all the way to Hemptown as hard as he could to
tell the story. He was a truthful man and they believed him.
A long time ago a man got lost in the mountains near the head of
Oconaluftee river, and it was very cold and his friends thought that
he must be frozen to death, but he was taken to a cave by the Nunnehi
and given something to eat, and when the weather was more pleasant
they conducted him to the main trail and sent him on home to the
neighbors in the valley below.
MYTH THIRTY-FIVE.
THE REMOVED TOWN-HOUSE.
Long ago, before the Cherokee were driven from their homes in 1838, the
people on Valley river and Hiwassee heard voices of invisible spirits
calling them from the skies, and warning them of wars and misfortunes
which the future held in store, and inviting them to come and live with
the Nunnehi, the Immortals, in their homes under the mountains and
under the waters. For days the voice hung in the air, and the people
listened until they heard the voice say, "If you would live with us,
gather every one in your town-house and fast there seven days, and no
one must raise a shout or a warwhoop in all that time. Do this and we
will come and you shall see us and we shall take you to live with us."
The people were afraid of the evils that were to come, and they
knew that the Immortals of the mountains and of the waters were
happy forever, so they counciled in their town-house and decided to
go with them. Those of Anisgayayitown came all together into their
town-house and prayed and fasted for six days. On the seventh day
there was a sound from the distant mountains, and it came nearer and
grew louder until a roar of thunder was all about the town-house and
they felt the ground shake all around them. Now they were frightened,
and despite the warning some of them screamed out.
The Nunnehi, who had already lifted up the town-house with its mound
to carry it away, were startled by the sound and let a part of it
fall to the ground, where we now see the mound Setsi.
They steadied themselves again and bore the rest of the town-house,
with all the people in it, to the top of Tsudayelunyi, near the head
of Cheowa, where we can still see it, changed long ago to solid rock,
but the people are invisible and immortal.
MYTH THIRTY-SIX.
THE SPIRIT DEFENDERS OF NIKWASI.
Long ago a powerful unknown tribe invaded the country from the
southeast, killing people and destroying settlements wherever they
went. No leader could stand against them, and in a little while
they had wasted all the lower settlements and advanced into the
mountains. The warriors of the old town of Nikwasi, on the head of
Little Tennessee, gathered their wives and their children into the
town-house and kept scouts constantly on the lookout for the presence
of danger.
One morning, just before the break of day, the spies saw the enemy
approaching and at once gave the alarm. The Nikwasi men seized
their arms and rushed out to meet the attack, but after a long,
hard fight they found themselves overpowered and began to retreat,
when suddenly a stranger stood among them and shouted to the chief to
call off his men and he himself would drive the enemy back. From the
dress and the language of the stranger the Nikwasi people thought him
a chief who had come with reinforcements from Overhill settlements
in Tennessee. They fell back along the trail, and as they came near
the town-house they saw a great company of warriors coming out from
the side of the mound as from an open doorway.
Then they knew that their friends were the Nunnehi, the Immortals,
although no one had ever heard that they lived under Nikwasi mound. The
Nunnehi poured out by hundreds, armed and painted for the fight,
and the most curious part of it all was that they became invisible as
soon as they were fairly outside of the settlement, so that although
the enemy saw the glancing arrow or the rushing tomahawk, and felt
the stroke, he could not see who sent it.
Before such an invisible foe the invaders had to retreat, going
first south along the ridge to where joins the main ridge, which
separates Tah-kee-os-tee (French Broad) from the Tuckaseigee, and
then turning with it to the northeast. As they retreated they tried
to shield themselves behind rocks and trees, but the Nunnehi arrows
went around them and killed them from the other side, and they could
find no hiding place.
All along the ridge they fell, until when they reached the head of
Tuckaseigee not more than half a dozen were left alive, and in their
despair they sat down and cried out for mercy. The Nunnehi chief told
them that they deserved their punishment for attacking a peaceful
tribe, and he spared their lives and told them to go home and tell
their people. It was the custom of the Indians to spare some to carry
the news of battle and defeat. Then the Nunnehi went back to the mound,
and have been there ever since.
They are there now, for when a strong army of Federal troops came
to surprise a handful of Confederates in the last war, they saw so
many soldiers guarding the town that they were afraid and went away
without making an attack.
MYTH THIRTY-SEVEN.
KANASTA, THE LOST SETTLEMENT.
Long ago, while the people still lived in the old town of Kanasta,
on Tah-kee-os-tee, (French Broad) two strangers, who looked in no
way different from the other Cherokee, came into the settlement one
day and made their way into the chief's house.
After the first greetings were over, the chief asked them from what
town they came, thinking they were from one of the western settlements,
but they said, "We are of your people and our town is close at hand,
but you have never seen it. Here you have wars and sickness, with
enemies on every side, and after awhile a stronger enemy will come and
take your country from you. We are always happy, and we have come to
invite you to live with us in our town over there," and they pointed
toward Tsuwatelda (Pilot Knob). "We do not live forever, and do not
always find game when we go for it, for game belongs to Tsulkalu,
who lives in Tsunegunyi, but we have peace always and do not think
of danger. We go now, but if your people will live with us, let them
fast seven days and we will come then and take them."
Then they went away toward the west. The chief called the people
together into the town-house, and they held a council over the matter
and decided at last to go with the strangers. They got all of their
property ready for moving, and then went again into the town-house
and began their fast. They fasted six days and on the morning of the
seventh, before yet the sun was high, they saw a great company coming
along the trail from the west, led by the two men who had stopped with
the chief. They seemed just like Cherokee from another settlement,
and after a friendly meeting they took up a part of the goods to be
carried, and the two parties started back together for Tsuwatelda.
There was one man visiting at Kanasta, and he went along with
them. When they came to the mountain the two guides led the way
into a cave, which opened out like a great door in the side of the
rock. Inside they found an open country and a town, with houses
ranged in two long rows from east to west. The mountain people lived
in the houses on the south side, and they had made ready the other
houses for the newcomers, but even after the people of Kanasta,
with their children and their belongings, had moved in, there were
still a large number of houses waiting ready for the next who might
come. The mountain people told them that there was another town of a
different people, above them in another mountain, and still farther
above, at the very top, lived the Ani-Hyuntikwalaski (the Thunders).
Now all the people of Kanasta were settled in their new homes, but the
man who had only been visiting with them wanted to go back to his own
friends. Some of the mountain people wanted to prevent this, but the
chief said, "No, let him go if he will, and when he tells his friends
they may want to come, too. There is plenty of room for all." Then he
said to the man, "Go back and tell your friends that if they want to
come and live with us and always be happy, there is a place here ready
and waiting for them. Others of us live in Datsunalasgunyi and in the
high mountains all around, and if they would rather go to any of them,
it will be all the same. We see you wherever you go, and are with you
in all of your dances, but you cannot see us unless you fast. If you
want to see us, fast four days, and we will come and talk with you;
and then if you want to live with us, fast again seven days, and we
will come and take you." Then the chief led the man through the cave
to the outside of the mountain and left him there, but when the man
looked back he saw no cave, but only the solid rock. The people of
the Lost Settlement were never seen again and they are still living
in Tauwatelda. Strange things happen there, so that the Cherokee know
that the mountain is haunted and do not like to go near it. Only a
few years ago a party of hunters camped there, and as they sat around
their fire at supper time they talked of the story and made rough
jokes of the people of old Kanasta. That night they were aroused from
sleep by a noise as of stones thrown at them from among the trees,
but when they searched they could find nobody, and were so frightened
that they gathered up their guns and pouches and left the place.
MYTH THIRTY-EIGHT.
HEMP-CARRIER.
On the southern slope of the ridge, along the trail from Robbinsville
to Valley river, in Cherokee County, North Carolina, are the remains of
a number of stone cairns. The piles are level now, but fifty years ago
the stones were still heaped up in pyramids, to which every Cherokee
who passed added a stone. According to the tradition these piles
marked the graves of a number of women and children of the tribe who
were surprised and killed on the spot by a raiding party of Iroquois
shortly before the final peace between the two nations. As soon
as the news was brought to the settlement on Hiwassee and Cheowa,
a party was made under Taletanigiski, "Hemp-Carrier," to follow and
take vengeance on the enemy.
Among others of the party was the father of the noted chief,
Tsunulahunski, or Junaluska, who (Junaluska) died in about the year
1855, who was also the chief and hero of the battle of Horseshoe
Bend. For days they followed the trail of the Iroquois across the
Great Smoky Mountains, thru forests and over rivers, until finally
they tracked them to their very town in the far Seneca country.
On the way they met another war party headed for the south, and the
Cherokee killed them all and took their scalps.
When they came near the Seneca town it was almost night, and they
heard shouts in the town-house, where the women were dancing over the
fresh scalps of the Cherokee. The avengers hid themselves near the
spring, and as the dancers came down to drink, the Cherokee silently
killed one and another until they had counted as many scalps as had
been taken on Cheowa, and still the dancers in the town-house never
thought that enemies were near. Then said the Cherokee leader, "We
have covered the scalps of our women and children. Shall we go home
now like cowards, or shall we raise the warwhoop and let the Seneca
know that we are men?" "Let them come if they will," said the men,
and they raised the scalp yell of the Cherokees.
At once there was an answering shout from the town-house, and the
dance came to a sudden close. The Seneca swarmed out with ready gun
and hatchet, but the nimble Cherokee were off and away. There was a
hot pursuit in the darkness, but the Cherokee knew the trails and were
light and active runners, and managed to get away with the loss of only
one man. The rest got home safely, and the people were so well pleased
with Hemp-Carrier's bravery and success that they gave him seven wives.
PART IV
GLOSSARY OF CHEROKEE WORDS
GLOSSARY OF CHEROKEE WORDS.
The Cherokee language has the continental vowel sounds a, e, i, and u,
but lacks o, which is replaced by a deep a. The obscure or short u
is frequently nasalized, but the nasal sound is seldom heard at the
end of a word. The only labial is m, which occurs in probably not
more than half a dozen words in the Upper and Middle dialects, and is
entirely absent from the Lower dialect, in which w takes its place. The
characteristic l of the Upper and Middle dialects becomes r in the
Lower, but no dialect has both sounds of these letters, but g and d are
medials, approximating the sounds of k and t respectively. A frequent
double consonant is ts, commonly rendered ch by the old traders.
a as in far.
a as in what, or obscure as in showman.
à as in law, all.
d medial (semisonant), approximating t.
e as in they.
e as in net.
g medial (semisonant), approximating k.
h as in hat.
i as in pique.
i as in pick.
k as in kick.
l as in lull.
`l surd l (sometimes written hl), nearly the Welsh ll.
m as in man.
n as in not.
r takes place of 1 in Lower dialect.
s as in sin.
t as in top.
u as in rule.
û as in cut.
ûñ û nasalized.
w as in wit.
y as in you.
' a slight aspirate, sometimes indicating the omission
of a vowel.
A number of English words, with cross references, have been introduced
into the glossary.
ada`lanun`sti--a staff or cane.
adan`ta--soul.
ada`wehi--a magician or supernatural being.
ada`wehi`yu--a very great magician; intensive form of ada`wehi.
a`gana--groundhog.
A`gansta`ta--"groundhog-sausage," from a`gana, ground-hog, and
tsista`u, "I am pounding it," understood to refer to pounding meat,
etc., in a mortar, after having first crisped it before the fire. A war
chief, noted in the Cherokee war of 1760, and prominent until about
the close of the Revolution, known to the whites as Oconostota. Also
the Cherokee name for Colonel Gideon Morgan of the war of 1812, for
Washington Morgan, his son, of the Civil war, and now for a full-blood
upon the reservation, known to the whites as Morgan Calhoun.
A`gan-uni`tsi--"Ground-hog's mother," from a`gana and uni`tsi, their
mother, plural of utsi`, his mother (etsi`, agitsi`, my mother). The
Cherokee name of the Shawano captive, who, according to tradition,
killed the great Uktena serpent and procured the Ulunsu`ti.
Agawe`la--"Old Woman," a formulistic name for corn or the spirit corn.
agayun`li--for agayunlige, old, ancient.
agida`ta--see eda`ta.
agidutu--see edu`tu.
Agi'li--"He is rising," possibly a contraction of an old personal
name. Agin`-agi'li, "Rising-fawn." Major George Lawrey, cousin of
Sequoya, and assistant chief of the Cherokee Nation about 1840. Stanley
incorrectly makes it "Keeth-la, or Dog" for gi'li`.
agin`si--see eni`si.
agi`si--female, applied usually to quadrupeds.
Agis`-e`gwa--"Great Female," possibly "Great Doe." A being, probably
an animal god invoked in the sacred formulas.
agitsi`--see etsi`.
Agitsta'ti`yi--"where they stayed up all night," from tsigitsun`tihu,
"I stay up all night." A place in the Great Smoky range about the
head of Noland creek, in Swain County, N. C.
Aguaquiri--see Guaquili.
Ahalu`na--"Ambush," Ahalunun`yi, "Ambush place," or Uni`halu`na,
"where they ambushed," from akalu`ga, "I am watching." Soco gap, at
the head of Soco creek, on the line between Swain and Haywood counties,
N. C. The name is also applied to the lookout station for deer hunters.
ahanu`lahi--"he is bearded," from ahanu`lahu, a beard.
Ahu`lude`gi--"He throws away the drum" (habitual), from ahu`li, drum,
and akwade`gu, "I am throwing it away" (round object). The Cherokee
name of John Jolly, a noted chief and adopted father of Samuel Houston,
about 1800.
ahyeli`ski--a mocker or mimic.
akta`--eye; plural, dikta`.
akta`ti--a telescope or field glass. The name denotes something with
which to examine or look into closely, from akta`, eye.
akwandu`li--a song form for akwidu`li (-hu,) "I want it."
Akwan'ki--see Anakwan`ki.
Akwe'ti`yi--a location on Tuckasegee river, in Jackson county, North
Carolina; the meaning of the name is lost.
Alarka--see Yalagi.
aliga`--the red-horse fish (Moxostoma).
Alkini`--the last woman known to be of Natchez decent and peculiarity
among the East Cherokee; died about 1890. The name has no apparent
meaning.
ama`--water; in the Lower dialect, awa`; cf. a`ma salt.
amaye`hi--"dwelling in the water," from ama` (ama`yi, "in the water")
and ehu`, "I dwell," "I live."
Amaye'l-e`gwa--"Great island," from amaye'li, island (from ama`,
water, and aye'li, "in the middle") and e`gwa, great. A former Cherokee
settlement on Little Tennessee river, at Big island, a short distance
below the mouth of Tellico, in Monroe county, Tenn. Timberlake writes
it Mialaquo, while Bartram spells it Nilaque. Not to be confounded
with Long-Island town below Chattanooga.
Amaye'li-gunahi`ta--"Long-island," from amaye'li, island, and
gunahi`ta, long. A former Cherokee settlement, known to the whites
as Long-Island town, at the Long-island in Tennessee river, on
the Tennessee-Georgia line. It was one of the Chickamauga towns
(see Tsikama`gi).
ama`yine`hi--"dwellers in the water," plural of amaye`hi.
Anada`duntaski--"roasters," i. e., cannibals; from gun`tasku`. "I
am putting it (round) into the fire to roast." The regular word for
cannibals is Yun`wini`giski, q. v.
anagahun`unsku`--the green-corn dance; literally, "they are having
a green-corn dance"; the popular name is not a translation of the
Cherokee word, which has no reference either to corn or dancing.
Anakwan'ki--the Delaware Indians; singular Akwan'ki, a Cherokee
attempt at Wapanaqki, "Easterners," the Algonquian name by which,
in various corrupted forms, the Delawares are commonly known to the
western tribes.
Anantooeah--see Ani`Nun`dawe`gi.
a'ne`tsa, or anetsa`gi--the ball-play.
a'netsa`unski--a ball-player; literally, "a lover of the ball-play."
ani`--a tribal and animate prefix.
ani`da`wehi--plural of ada`wehi.
a`niganti`ski--see dagan'tu.
Ani`Gatage`wi--one of the seven Cherokee clans. The name has now
no meaning, but has been absurdly rendered "Blind savana," from an
incorrect idea that it is derived from Iga`ti, a swamp or savanna,
and dige`wi, blind.
Ani-Gila`hi--"Long-haired people," one of the seven Cherokee clans;
singular, Agila`hi. The word comes from agila`hi (perhaps connected
with afi'lge-ni, "the back of (his) neck"), an archaic term denoting
wearing the hair long or flowing loosely, and usually recognized as
applying more particularly to a woman.
Ani`-Gili`--a problematic tribe, possibly the Congaree. The name is
not connected with gi`li`, dog.
Ani`-Gusa--see Ani`Ku`sa.
a`nigwa--soon after; dine`tlana a`nigwa, "soon after the creation."
Ani`-Hyun`tikwala`ski--"The Thunders," i. e., thunder, which
in Cherokee belief, is controlled and caused by a family of
supernaturals. The word has reference to making a rolling sound;
cf. tikwale`lu, a wheel, hence a wagon; ama`-tikwalelunyi, "rolling
water place," applied to a cascade where the water falls along
the surface of the rock; ahyun`tikwala`stihu`, "it is thundering,"
applied to the roar of a railroad train or waterfall.
Ani`-Kawi`--"Deer people," one of the seven Cherokee clans; the
regular form for deer is a'wi`.
Ani`-Kawi`ta--the Lower Creeks, from Kawi`ta or Coweta, their former
principal town on Chattahoochee river near the present Columbus,
Ga.; the Upper Creeks on the head streams of Alabama river were
distinguished as Ani`-Ku`sa (q. v.) A small creek of Little Tennessee
river above Franklin, in Macon county, N. C., is now known as Coweeta
creek.
Ani`-Kitu`hwagi--"Kitu`hwa people," from Kitu`hwa (q. v.), an ancient
Cherokee settlement.
Ani`-Ku`sa or Ani`-Gu`sa--the Creek Indians, particularly the Upper
Creeks on the waters of Alabama river; singular A`Ku`sa or Coosa
(Spanish, Coca, Cossa) their principal ancient town.
Ani`-Kuta`ni (also Ani`-Kwata`ni, or incorrectly,
Nicotani)--traditional Cherokee priestly society or clan exterminated
in a popular uprising.
anina`hilidahi--"creatures that fly about," from tsinai`li, "I am
flying," tsina`ilida`hu, "I am flying about." The generic term for
birds and flying insects.
Ani`-Na'tsi--abbreviated Anintsi, singular A-Na'tsi. The Natchez
Indians. From coincidence with na`tsi, pine, the name has been
incorrectly rendered "Pine Indians," whereas it is really a Cherokee
plural name of the Natchez.
Anin`tsi--see Ani`Na'tsi.
Ani`Nundawe`gi--singular, Nun`dawe`gi; the Iroquois, more particularly
the Seneca, from Nundawao, the name by which the Seneca call
themselves. Adair spells it Anantooeah. The tribe was also known
as Ani`-Se`nika.
Ani`-Saha`ni--one of the seven Cherokee clans; possibly an archaic
form for "Blue people," from sa'ka`ni, sa`ka`nige`i, blue.
Ani`-Sa`ni, Ani`-Sawaha`ni--see Ani`-Sawanu`gi.
Ani`-Sawanu`gi (singular Sawanu`gi)--the Shawano Indians. Ani`-sa`ni
and Ani`-Sawaha`ni may be the same.
Ani`-Se`nika--see Ani`Nundawe`gi.
Anisga`ya Tsunsdi` (ga)--"The Little Men"; the Thunder Boys in
Cherokee mythology.
Ani`-sgayaiyi--"Men town" (?), a traditional Cherokee settlement on
Valley river, in Cherokee county, North Carolina.
Ani`sgi`na--plural of asgi`na, q. v.
Ani`-Skala`li--the Tuscarora Indian; singular, Skala`li or A-Skala`li.
Ani`skwa`ni--Spaniards; singular, Askwa`ni.
Ani`-Suwa`li--or Ani`-Swqa`la--the Suala, Sara or Cheraw Indians,
formerly about the headwaters of Broad river, North Carolina, the
Xuala province of the De Soto chronicle, and Joara or Juada of the
later Pardo narrative.
Ani`ta`gwa--the Catawba Indians; singular, Ata`gwa or Tagwa.
Ani`-Tsa`guhi--the Cherokee clan, transformed to bears according to
tradition. Swimmer's daughter bears the name Tsaguhi, which is not
recognized as distinctively belonging to either sex.
Ani`-Tsa`lagi`--the Cherokee.
Ani`-Tsa'ta--the Choctaw Indians; singular, Tsa'ta.
Ani`-Tsi`ksu--the Chickasaw Indians; singular, Tsi`ksu.
Ani`-Tsi`skwa--"Bird people"; one of the seven Cherokee clans.
Ani`-Tsu`tsa--"The Boys," from atsu`tsa, boy; the Pleiades.
Ani`-Wa`di--"Paint people"; one of the seven Cherokee clans.
Ani`-Wa'dihi`--"Place of the Paint people or clan"; Paint town, a
Cherokee settlement on lower Soco creek, within the reservation in
Jackson and Swain counties, North Carolina. It takes its name from
the Ani`-Wa`di or Paint clan.
ani`wani`ski--the bugle weed, Lycopus virginicus; literally, "the
talk" or "talkers," from tsiwa`nihu, "I am talking," awaniski,
"he talks habitually."
Ani`-Wasa`si--the Osage Indians; singular, Wasa`si.
Ani`-Wa`ya--"Wolf people"; the most important of the seven clans of
the Cherokee.
Ani`-Yun`wiya`--Indians, particularly Cherokee Indians; literally
"principal or real people," from yunwi, person, ya, a suffix implying
principal or real, and ani`, the tribal prefix.
Ani`-Yu`tsi--the Yuchi or Uchee Indians; singular, Yu`tsi.
Annie Ax--see Sadayi`.
Aquone--a post-office on Nantahala river, in Mason county, North
Carolina, site of the former Fort Scott. Probably a corruption of
egwani, river.
Arch, John--see Atsi.
Asa`gwalihu`--a pack or burden; asa`gwal lu`, or asa`gwi li`, "there
is a pack on him."
asehi`--surely.
Ase`nika--singular of Ani`-Se`nika.
asga`ya--man.
asga`ya Gi`gagei--the "Red Man"; the Lightning spirit.
asgi`na--a ghost, either human or animal; from the fact that ghosts
are commonly supposed to be malevolent, the name is frequently rendered
"devil."
Asheville--see Kasdu`yi and Unta`kiyasti`yi.
asi--the sweat lodge and occasional winter sleeping apartment of the
Cherokee and other southern tribes. It was a low built structure of
logs covered with earth and from its closeness and the fire usually
kept smoldering within was known to the old traders as the "hot house."
asiyu` (abbreviated siyu`)--good; the common Cherokee salute; ga`siyu`,
"I am good"; hasiyu`, "thou art good"; a`siyu, "he (it) is good"; astu,
"very good."
Askwa`ni--a Spaniard. See Ani`skwa`ni.
astu`--very good; astu tsiki`, very good, best of all.
Astu`gata`ga--A Cherokee lieutenant in the Confederate service killed
in 1862. The name may be rendered, "Standing in the doorway," but
implies that the man himself is the door or shutter; it has no first
person; gata`ga, "he is standing"; stuti, a door or shutter; stuhu,
a closed door or passage; stugi`sti, a key, i. e., something with
which to open the door.
asun`tli, asuntlun`yu--a footlog or bridge; literally, "log lying
across," from asi`ta, log.
ata`--wood; ata`ya, "principal wood," i. e., oak; cf. Muscogee iti,
wood.
Ata`-gul kalu`--a noted Cherokee chief, recognized by the British
government as the head chief or "emperor" of the Nation, about 1760 and
later, and commonly known to the whites as the Little Carpenter (Little
Cornplanter, by mistake, in Haywood). The name is frequently spelled
Atta-kulla-kulla, Ata-kullakulla or Ata-culculla. It may be rendered
"Leaning wood," from ata`, "Wood" and gul kalu, a verb implying that
something long is leaning, without sufficient support, against some
other object; it has no first person form. Bartram describes him as
"A man of remarkably small stature, slender and of a delicate frame,
the only instance I saw in the Nation; but he is a man of superior
abilities."
Ata`gwa--a Catawba Indian.
Atahi`ta--abbreviated from Atahitun`yi, "Place where they shouted,"
from gata`hiu`, "I shout," and yi, locative. Waya gap, on the ridge
west of Franklin, Macon county, North Carolina. The map name is
probably from the Cherokee wa ya, wolf.
Ata-Kullakulla--see Ata`-gul kalu`.
a`tali--mountain; in the Lower dialect a`tari, whence the "Ottare" or
Upper Cherokee of Adair. The form a`tali is used only in composition;
and mountain in situ is atalunyi or gatu`si.
a`tali-guli`--"it climbs the mountain," i. e., "mountain-climber"; the
ginseng plant, Ginseng quinquefolium; from a`tali, mountain, and guli`,
"it climbs" (habitually); tsilahi` or tsili`, "I am climbing." Also
called in the sacred formulas, Yun`wi Usdi`, "Little man."
Atala`nuwa`--"Tla`nuwa hole"; the Cherokee name of Chattanooga,
Tennessee (see tsatanu`gi); originally applied to a bluff on the south
side of the Tennessee river, at the foot of the present Market street.
a`talulu`--unfinished, premature, unsuccessful; whence utalu`li,
"it is not yet time."
Ata`lunti`ski--a chief of the Arkansas Cherokee about 1818, who
had originally emigrated from Tennessee. The name, commonly spelled
Tollunteeskee, Taluntiski, Tallotiskee, Tallotuskee, etc., denotes
one who throws some living object from a place, as an enemy from
a precipice.
A`tari--see a`tali.
atasi` (or atasa`, in a dialectic form)--a war-club.
atatsun`ski--stinging; literally, "he stings" (habitually).
A`tsi--the Cherokee name of John Arch, one of the earliest native
writers in the Sequoya characters. The word is simply an attempt at
the English name Arch.
atsi`la--fire; in the Lower dialect, atsi`ra.
Atsi`la-wa`i--"Fire--"; a mountain sometimes known as Rattlesnake knob,
about two miles northeast of Cherokee, Swain county, N. C.
Atsil`-dihye`gi--"Fire-Carrier"; apparently the Cherokee name for the
will-of-the-wisp. As is usually the case in the Cherokee compounds,
the verbal form is plural ("it carries fire"); the singular form
is ahye`gi.
Atsil`-sunti (abbreviated tsil`-sunti)--fleabane (Erigeron canadense);
the name signifies "material with which to make fire," from atsi`la,
fire, and gasunti, gatsunti or gatlunti, material with which to make
something, from fasun`sku (or gatlun`sku), "I make it." The plant is
also called ihya`ga.
atsil`-tluntu`tsi--"fire-panther." A meteor or comet.
A`tsina`--cedar.
A`tsina`-k ta`um--"Hanging cedar place"; from a`tsina`, cedar, and
k ta`un, "where it (long) hangs down"; a Cherokee name for the old
Taskigi town on the Little Tennessee river in Monroe county, Tenn.
Atsi`ra--see atsi`la.
Atsun`sta ti`yi (abbreviated Atsun`sta ti)--"Fire-light place,"
referring to the "fire-hunting" method of killing deer in the river
at night. The proper form for Chestatee river, near Dahlonega, in
Lumpkin county, Ga.
Attakullakulla--see Ata-gul kalu`.
awa`--see ama`.
awa`hili--eagle; particularly Aquila Chrysaetus, distinguished as the
"pretty-feathered eagle."
awi`--deer; also sometimes written and pronounced ahawi`; the name
is sometimes applied to the large horned beetle, the flying stag of
early writers.
awi`-ahanu`lahi--goat; literally "bearded deer."
awi`-ahyeli`ski--"deer mocker"; the deer bleat, a sort of whistle
used by hunters to call the doe by imitating the cry of the fawn.
awi`-akta`--"deer eye"; the Rudbeckia or black-eyed Susan.
awi`-e`gwa (abbreviated aw-e`gwa)--the elk, literally "great deer."
awi`-unade`na--sheep; literally "woolly deer."
Awi`Usdi`--"Little Deer," the mythic chief of the Deer tribe.
Ax, Annie--see Sadayi`.
Ax, John--see Itagu`nahi.
awe li--half, middle, in the middle.
Ayphwa`si--the proper form of the name commonly written Hiwassee. It
signifies a savanna or meadow and was applied to two (or more) former
Cherokee settlements. The more important, commonly distinguished as
Ayuhwa`si Egwa`hi or Great Hiwassee, was on the north bank of Hiwassee
river at the present Savannah ford above Columbus, in Polk county,
Tenn. The other was farther up the same river, at the junction of
Peachtree creek, above Murphy, in Cherokee county, N. C. Lanman writes
it Owassa.
Ayrate--see e`ladi`.
Ays`sta--"The Spoiler," from tsiya`stihu, "I spoil it"; cf. uya`i,
bad. A prominent woman and informant on the East Cherokee reservation.
Ayun`ini--"Swimmer"; literally, "he is swimming," from gayunini`, "I
am swimming." A principal priest and informant of the East Cherokee,
died in 1899.
Ayulsu`--see Dayulsun`yi.
Beaverdam--see Uy'gila`gi.
Big-Cove--see Ka`lanun`yi.
Big-Island--see Amaye'l-e`gwa.
Big-Witch--see Tskil-e`gwa.
Bird-Town--see Tsiskwa`hi.
Bloody-Fellow--see Iskagua.
Blythe--see Diskwani.
Black-fox--see Ina`li.
Boudinot, Elias--see Galagi`na.
Bowl, The; Bowles, Colonel--see Diwali.
Brass--see Untsaiyi`.
Brasstown--see Itse`yi.
Breadth, The--see Unli`ta.
Briertown--see Kanu`gula`yi.
Buffalo (creek)--see Yunsa`i.
Bull-Head--see Sukwale`na.
Butler, John--see Tsan`-uga`sita.
Cade's Cove--see Tsiya`hi.
Canacaught--"Canacaught, the great Conjurer," mentioned as a Lower
Cherokee chief in 1684; possibly kanegwa`ti, the water-moccasin snake.
Canaly--see hi`gina`lii.
Canasagua--see Gansa`gi.
Cannastion, Cannostee--see Kana`sta.
Canuga--see Kanu`ga.
Cartoogaja--see Gatu`gitse`yi.
Cataluchee--see Gadalu`tsi.
Cauchi--a place, apparently in the Cherokee county, visited by Pardo
in 1567.
Caunasaita--given as the name of a Lower Chief in 1684; possibly for
Kanunsi`ta, "dogwood."
Chalaque--see Tsa`lagi.
Chattanooga--see Tsatanu`gi.
Chattooga, Chatuga--see Tsatu`gi.
Cheeowhee--see Tsiya`hi.
Cheerake--see Tsa`lagi.
Cheraw--see Ani`-Suwa`li.
Cheowa--see Tsiya`hi.
Cheowa Maximum--see Schwate`yi.
Cheraqui--see Tsa`lagi.
Cherokee--see Tsa`lagi.
Chestatee--see Atsun`sta ti`yi.
Chestua--see Tsistu`yi.
Cheucunsene--see Tsi`kama`gi.
Chilhowee--see Tsu lun`we.
Chimney Tops--see Duni`skwa lgun`i.
Chisca--mentioned in the De Soto narratives as a mining region in
the Cherokee country. The name may have a connection with Tsi`skwa,
"bird," possibly Tsiskwa`hi, "Bird place."
Choastea--see Tsistu`yi.
Chopped Oak--see Digalu`yatun`yi.
Choquata--see Itsa`ti.
Citico--see Si`tiku`.
Clear-sky--see Iskagua.
Clennuse--see Tlanusi`yi.
Cleveland--see Tsistetsi`yi.
Coca--see Ani`-Ku`sa.
Coco--see Kuku`.
Cohutta--see Gahu`ti.
Colanneh, Colona--see Ka`lanu.
Conasauga--see Gansa`gi.
Conneross--see Kawan`-ura`sunyi.
Coosawatee--see Ku`saweti`yi.
Cooweescoowee--see Gu`wisguwi`.
Coosa--see Ani`-Ku`sa, Kusa.
Corani--see Ka`lanu.
Cowee`--see Kawi`yi.
Coweeta, Coweta--see Ani`-Kawi`ta.
Coyatee (variously spelled Cawatie, Coiatee, Coytee, Coytoy,
Kai-a-tee)--a former Cherokee settlement on Little Tennessee river,
some ten miles below the junction of Tellico, about the present Coytee
post-office in Loudon county, Tennessee.
Creek-path--see Ku`sa-nunna`hi.
Crow-town--see Kagun`yi.
Cuhtahlatah--a Cherokee woman noted in the Wahnenauhi manuscript as
having distinguished herself by bravery in battle. The proper form
may have some connection with gatun`lati, "wild hemp."
Cullasagee--see Kulse`tsi`yi.
Cullowhee, Currahee--see Gulahi`yi.
Cuttawa--see Kitu`hwa.
Dagan tu--"he makes it rain"; from aga`ska, "it is raining," aga`na,
"it has begun to rain"; a small variety of lizard whose cry is said
to presage rain. It is also called a`niganti`ski, "they make it rain"
(plural form), or rain-maker.
dagul ku--the American white-fronted goose. The name may be an
onomatope.
dagu`na--the fresh-water mussel; also a variety of face pimples.
Dagun`hi--"Mussel place," from dagu`na, mussel, and hi, locative. The
Mussel shoals on Tennessee river, in northwestern Alabama. It was
sometimes called also simply Tsu stanalun`yi, "Shoal's place."
Dagu`nawa`lahi--"Mussel-liver place," from dagu`na, mussel, uwe`la,
liver, and hi, locative; the Cherokee name for the site of Nashville,
Tenn. No reason can now be given for the name.
Dahlonega--A town in Lumpkin county, Ga., near which the first
gold was mined. A mint was established there in 1838. The name is
from the Cherokee dala`nige`i, yellow, whence ate`la-dala`-nige`i,
"yellow money," i. e., gold.
daksawa`ihu--"he is shedding tears."
dakwa`--a mythic great fish; also the whale.
Dakwa`i--"dakwa place," from a tradition of a dakwa` in the river
at that point. A former Cherokee settlement, known to the traders
as Toqua or Toco, on Little Tennessee river, about the mouth of Toco
creek in Monroe county, Tenn. A similar name and tradition attaches
to a spot on the French Broad river, about six miles above the Warm
springs, in Buncombe county, N. C.
dakwa`nitlastesti--"I shall have them on my legs for garters"; from
anitla`sti (plural dinitla`sti), garter; d-, initial plural; akwa,
first person particle; and esti, future suffix.
da`liksta`--"vomiter," from dagik`stihu`, "I am vomiting," daliksta`,
"he vomits" (habitually); the form is plural. The spreading adder
(Heterodon), also sometimes called kwandaya`hu, a word of uncertain
etymology.
Da` nagasta--for Da` nawa-gasta`ya, "Sharp-war," i. e.,
"Eager-warrior;" a Cherokee woman's name.
Da` nawa-(a)sa tsun`yi, "War-ford," from da` nawa, war, and asa
tsun`yi, "a crossing-place or ford." A ford on Cheowa river about
three miles below Robbinsville, in Graham county, N. C.
Danda`ganu`--"Two looking at each other," from detsi`ganu`,
"I am looking at him." A former Cherokee settlement, commonly
known as Lookout Mountain town, on Lookout Mountain creek, near the
present Trenton, Dade county, Ga. One of the Chickamauga towns (see
Tsi`kama`gi), so-called on account of the appearance of the mountains
facing each other across the Tennessee river at Chattanooga.
Da`si giya`gi--an old masculine personal name, of doubtful etymology,
but commonly rendered by the traders "Shoe-boots," possibly referring
to some peculiar style of moccasin or leggin. A chief known to the
whites as Shoe-boots is mentioned in the Revolutionary records. Chief
Lloyd Welch, of the eastern band, was known in the tribe as Da`si
giya`gi, and the same name is now used by the East Cherokee as the
equivalent of the name Lloyd.
Da`skwitun`yi--"Rafter's Place," from daskwitun`i, rafters, and yi,
locative. A former settlement on Tusquittee creek, near Hayesville,
in Clay county, North Carolina.
dasun`tali--ant; dasun`tali, "stinging ant," the large red cowant
(Myrmica?), also called sometimes, on account of its hard body-case,
nun`yunu`wi, "stone-clad," after the fabulous monster.
Datle`yasta`i--"where they fell down," a point on Tuckasegee river,
a short distance above Webster, in Jackson county, North Carolina.
datsi--a traditional water-monster.
Datsi`yi--"Datsi place"; a place on Little Tennessee river, near
junction of Eagle creek, in Swain county, North Carolina.
Datsu`nalagun`yi--"where there are tracks or footprints,"
from uta`sinun`yi or ulasgun`yi, footprint. Track Rock gap, near
Blairsville, Georgia. Also sometimes called De`gayelun`ha, "place of
branded marks."
da`yi--beaver.
Dayulsun`yi--"place where they cried," a spot on the ridge at the
head of Tuckasegee river, in Jackson county, North Carolina; so-called
from an old tradition.
da`yuni`si--"beaver's grandchild," from dayi, beaver, and uni`si,
son's child of either sex. The water beetle or mellow bug.
Degal gun`yi--a cairn, literally "where they are piled up"; a series
of cairns on the south side of Cheowa river, in Graham county, N. C.
De`gata`ga--The Cherokee name of General Stamd Watie and of a
prominent early western chief known to the whites as Takatoka. The
word is derived from tsita`ga, "I am standing," da nita`ga "they are
standing together," and conveys the subtle meaning of two persons
standing together and so closely united in sympathy as to form but
one human body.
De`gayelun`ha--see Datsu`nalagun`yi.
detsanun`li--an enclosure or piece of level ground cleared for
ceremonial purposes; applied more particularly to the green-corn dance
ground. The word has a plural form, but cannot be certainly analyzed.
De`tsata--a Cherokee sprite.
detsinu`lahungu`--"I tried, but failed."
Didalaski`yi--"Showering place." In the story (number 17) the name
is understood to mean "the place where it rains fire." It signifies
literally, however, the place where it showers, or comes down, and
lodges upon something animate and has no definite reference to fire
(atsi`la) or rain (afaska, "it is raining"); degalasku`, "they are
showering down and lodging upon him."
Dida`skasti`yi--"where they were afraid of each other," a spot on
Little Tennessee river, near the mouth of Alarka creek, in Swain
county, N. C.
diga`gwani`--the mud-hen or didapper. The name is plural form and
implies "lame," or "crippled in the legs" (cf. detsi`nigwa`na, "I
am kneeling"), probably from the bouncing motion of the bird when in
the water. It is also the name of a dance.
Diga`kati`yi--see Gakati`yi.
di`galungun`yi--"where it rises, or comes up"; the east. The sacred
term is Nunda`yi, q. v.
digalun`latiyun--a height, one of a series, from galun`lati, "above."
Digalu`yatun`yi--"where it is gashed (with hatchets)"; from tsilu`yu,
"I am cutting (with a chopping stroke)," di, plural prefix, and yi,
locative. The Chopped Oak, formerly east of Clarkesville, Ga.
Digane`ski--"he picks them up" (habitually), from tsine`u, "I am
picking it up." A Cherokee Union soldier in the Civil War.
digi`gage`i--the plural of gi`gage`i, red.
digu`lanahi`ta--for digu`li-anahi`ta, "having long ears," "long-eared";
from gule, "ear" and gunahi`ta, "long."
Dihyun`dula`--"sheaths," or "scabbards"; singular ahyun`dula`,
"a gun-sheath," or other scabbard. The probable correct form of a
name which appears in Revolutionary documents as "Untoola, or Gum Rod."
Dikta`--plural of Akta`, eye.
dila`--skunk.
dilsta`yati--"scissors"; the water-spider (Dolomedes).
dinda`skwate`ski--the violet; the name signifies, "they pull each
others' heads off."
dine`tlana--the creation.
di nuski--"the breeder"; a variety of smilax brier.
Disga`gisti`yi--"where they gnaw"; a place on Cheowa river, in Graham
county, N. C.
diskwa ni--"chestnut bread," i. e., a variety of bread having chestnuts
mixed with it. The Cherokee name of James Blythe, interpreter and
agency clerk.
Distai`yi--"they are strong," plural of astai`yi, "strong or
tough." The Tephrosia or devil's shoestring.
dista`sti--a mill (generic).
dita`stayeski--"a barber," literally "one who cuts things (as with
scissors), from tsista`yu, "I cut." The cricket (tala`tu) is sometimes
so-called.
Diwa`li--"Bowl," a prominent chief of the western Cherokee, known to
the whites as The Bowl, or Colonel Bowles, killed by the Texans in
1839. The chief mentioned may have been another of the same name.
diya`hali (or duya`hali)--the alligator lizard (Sceloporue undulatus).
Diya`hali`yi--"Lizard's place," from diya`hali, lizard, and yi,
locative. Joanna Bald, a mountain at the head of Valley river on the
line between Cherokee and Graham counties, North Carolina.
Double-Head--see Tal-tsu`ska`.
Dragging-Canoe--see Tsi`yu-gunsi`ni.
Dudun`leksun`yi--"where its legs were broken off"; a place on
Tuckasegee river, a few miles above Webster, in Jackson county, N. C.
Dugilu`yi (abbreviated Dugilu`, and commonly written Tugaloo, or
sometimes Toogelah or Toogoola)--a name occurring in several places
in the old Cherokee country, the best known being Tugaloo river,
so-called from a former Cherokee settlement of that name situated
at the junction of Toccoa creek with the main stream, in Habersham
county, Ga. The word is of uncertain etymology; but seems to refer
to a place at the forks of a stream.
Dukas`i, Dukwas`i--The correct form of the name commonly written
Toxaway, applied to a former Cherokee settlement in S. C., and the
creek upon which it stood, and extreme headstream of Keowee river
having its source in Jackson county, N. C. The meaning of the name
is lost, although it has been wrongly interpreted to mean "place of
shedding tears."
Dulastun`yi--"Potsherd place." A former Cherokee settlement on Nottely
river in Cherokee county, North Carolina.
dule`tsi--"kernels," a goitrous swelling upon the throat.
dulu`si--a variety of frog found upon the headwaters of Savannah river.
Duniya ta lun`yi--"where there are shelves, or flat places," from aya
te`ni, flat, whence da`ya tana lun`i, a shelf, and yi, locative. A
gap on the Great Smoky range, near Clingman's dome, Swain county, N. C.
Dunidu`lalun`yi--"where they made arrows"; a place on Straight creek,
a headstream of Oconaluftee river, in Swain county, N. C.
Duni`skwa lgun`i--the double peak known as the Chimney Tops, in Great
Smoky Mountains about the head of Deep creek, in Swain county, N. C. On
the north side is the pass known as Indian gap. The name signifies a
"forked antler," from uskwa lgu, antler, but indicates that the antler
is attached in place, as though the deer itself were concealed below.
Du`stayalun`yi--"where it made a noise as of thunder or shooting,"
apparently referring to a lightning strike (detsistaya`hihu, "I make
a shooting or thundering noise," might be a first person form used
by the personified Thundergod); a spot on Hiwassee river, about the
junction of Shooting creek, near Hayesville, in Clay county, N. C. A
former settlement along the creek bore the same name.
du`stu`--a species of frog, appearing very early in spring; the name
is intended for an onomatope. It is the correct form of the name of
the chief noted by McKenney and Hall as "Tooantuh or Spring Frog."
Dutch--see Tatsi`.
duwe ga--a spring lizard.
Eagle Dance--see Tsugidu`li ulsgi`sti.
Eastinaulee--see U`stana`li.
Echota, New--see Gansa`gi.
edata--my father (Upper dialect); the Middle and Lower dialect form
is agida`ta.
Edi`hi--"He goes about" (habitually); a masculine name.
edutu--my maternal grandfather (Upper dialect); the Middle and Lower
dialect form is agidu tu; cf. enisi.
egwa--great; cf. utanu.
egwani--river.
Egwanulti--"By the river," from egwa ni, river, and nulati or nulti,
near, beside. The proper form of Oconaluftee, the name of the river
flowing thru the East Cherokee reservation in Swain and Jackson
Counties, N. C. The town, Oconaluftee, mentioned by Bartram as
existing about 1775, was probably on the lower course of the river
at the present Birdtown, on the reservation, where was formerly a
considerable mound.
ela--earth, ground.
eladi--low, below; in the Lower dialect eradi, whence the Ayrata or
Lower Cherokee of Adair, as distinguished from the Ottara (atari,
atali) or Upper Cherokee.
elanti--a song form for eladi, q. v.
Elatse`yi, (abbreviated Elatse)--"Green (verdant) earth," from ela,
earth, and itse yi, green, from fresh-springing vegetation. The
name of several former Cherokee settlements, commonly known to the
whites as Ellijay, Elejoy or Allagae. One of these was upon the
headwaters of Keowee river in S. C.; another was on Ellijay creek
of Little Tennessee river, near the present Franklin, in Macon Co.,
N. C.; another was about the present Ellijay in Gilmer Co., Ga.;
and still another was on Ellijay creek of Little river, near the
present Maryville, in Blount Co., Tenn.
Elawa diyi (abbreviated Elawa di)--"Red-earth place," from ela, earth,
wadi, brown-red or red paint, and yi, the locative. 1. The Cherokee
name of Yellow-Hill settlement, now officially known as Cherokee,
the post office and agency headquarters for the East Cherokee, on
Oconaluftee river, in Swain Co., N. C. 2. A former council ground
known in history as Red Clay; at the site of the present village of
that name in Whitfield Co., Ga., adjoining the Tennessee line.
Ellijay--see Elatse`yi.
eni si--my paternal grandfather (Upper dialect); the Middle and Lower
dialect form is agani si, cf. edutu.
Eskaqua--see Iskagua.
Estanaula, Estinaula--see U`stana`li.
Etawa ha tsistatla`ski--"Deadwood-lighter," a traditional Cherokee
conjurer.
eti--old, long ago.
Etowah--see I`tawa`.
Etsaiyi--see Untsaiyi.
etsi--my mother (Upper dialect); the Middle and Lower dialect form
is agitsi.
Euharlee--see Yuha`li.
Feather dance--see Tsugidu`li ulsgi`sti.
Fightingtown--see Walas`-unulsti yi.
Flax-toter--see Tale`danigi`ski.
Flying-squirrel--see Ka`lahu`.
Frogtown--see Walasi`yi.
Gadalu`la--the proper name of the mountain known to the whites as
Yonah (from yanu, bear); or upper Chattahoochee river, in White Co.,
Ga. The name has no connection with Tallulah (see Talulu) and cannot
be translated.
Gadalu`tsi--in the corrupted form of Cataluchee this appears on the
map as the name of a peak, or rather a ridge, on the line between
Swain and Haywood counties, N. C., and of a creek running down on
the Haywood side into Big Pigeon river. It is properly the name of
the ridge only, and seems to refer to a "fringe standing erect,"
apparently from the appearance of the timber growing in streaks
along the side of the mountain; from wadalu`yata, fringe, gadu`ta,
"standing up in a row or series."
gahawi`siti--parched corn.
Gahuti (Gahu`ta and Gwahu`ti in dialect forms)--Cohutta mountains in
Murray Co., Ga. The name comes from gahuta`yi, "ashed roof supported
on poles", and refers to a fancied resemblance in the summit.
Gakati`yi--"place of setting fire"; something spoken in the plural
form, Diga`kati`yi, "place of the setting free." A point on Tuckasegee
river, about three miles above Bryson City, in Swain Co., N. C.
gaktun`ta--an injunction, command or rule, more particularly a
prohibition or ceremonial tabu. Tsiga`te`gu. "I am observing an
injunction or tabu"; adakte`gi, "he is under tabu regulations."
Galagi`na--a male deer (buck) or turkey (gobbler); in the first sense
the name is sometimes used also for the large horned beetle (Dynastes
tityus). The Indian name of Elias Boudinot, first Cherokee editor.
gali`sgisida`hu--"I am dancing about"; from gali`sgia, "I am dancing,"
and edahu, "I am going about."
galunkw`ti`yo--honored; sacred; used in the bible to mean holy,
hallowed.
galun`lati--above, on high.
gane`ga--skin.
ganidawa`ski--"the champion catchfly" or "rattlesnake's master"
(Silene stellata); the name signifies "it disjoints itself," from
ganidawsku`, "it is unjointing itself," on account of the peculiar
manner in which the dried stalk breaks off at the joints.
Gansagi (or Gansagiyi)--the name of several former settlements in
the old Cherokee country; it cannot be analyzed. One of this name was
upon Tuckasegee river, a short distance above the present Webster, in
Jackson Co., N. C.; another was on the lower part of Canasauga creek,
in McMinn Co., Tenn.; a third was at the junction of Conasauga and
Coosawatee rivers, where afterwards was located the Cherokee capital,
New Echota, in Gordon Co., Ga.; a fourth, mentioned in the De Soto
narratives as Canasoga or Canasagua, was located in 1540 on the
upper Chattahoochee river, possibly in the neighborhood of Kennesaw
mountain, Ga.
Gansa`ti`yi--"robbing place," from tsina`sahunsku, "I am robbing
him." Vengeance creek of Valley river in Cherokee Co., N. C. The name
vengeance was originally a white man's nickname for an old Cherokee
woman, of forbidding aspect, who lived there before the Removal.
Ganse`ti--a rattle; as the Cherokee dance rattle is made from the
gourd, the masculine name, Ganse`ti, is usually rendered by the whites,
"rattling-gourd."
gatausti--the wheel and stick of the Southern tribes, incorrectly
called nettecwaw by Timberlake.
Gategwa`--for Gategwa`hi, possibly a contraction of Igat(I)-egwa`hi,
"Great-swamp, "thicket place." A high peak southeast from Franklin,
Macon Co., N. C., and perhaps identical with Fodderstack mountain.
ga`tsu--see hatlu`.
Gatu`gitse`yi (abbreviated Gatu`gitse`)--"New-settlement place,"
from gatu`gi or agatu`gi, town, settlement, itsehi, new, especially
applied to new vegetation, and yi, the locative. A former settlement
on Cartoogaja creek near the present Franklin, in Macon Co., N. C.
Gatugi`yi--"Town building place," or "Settlement place," from gatu`gi,
a settlement, and yi, locative. A place on Santeetla creek, near
Robbinsville, in Graham Co., N. C.
Gatun`iti`yi--"Hemp place," from Gatun`lati, "wild hemp" (Apocynum
cannabinum), and yi, locative. A former Cherokee settlement, commonly
known as Hemptown, on the creek of the same name, near Morgantown,
in Fannin Co., Ga.
Gatun`wa`li--a noted western Cherokee, about 1842, known to the whites
as Hardmush or Big-Mush.
Gatun`wa`li, from ga`tu`, "bread," and unwa`li, "made into balls or
lumps," is a sort of mush or parched corn meal, made very thick, so
that it can be dipped out in lumps almost of the consistency of bread.
ge`i--down stream, down the road, with the current; tsa`gi, up stream.
gese`i--was; a separate word which, when used after the verb in the
present tense, makes it past tense without change of form; in the
form hi`gese`i it usually accompanies an emphatic repetition.
Ge`yagu`ga (for Age`hya`-guga?)--a formulistic name for the moon
(nun`da`); it cannot be analyzed, but seems to contain the word
age`hya, "woman." See also nun`da`.
gi`ga--blood; cf. gi`gage`i, red.
gi`ga-danegi`ski--"blood taker," from gi`ga, blood, and ada`negi`ski,
"one who takes liquids," from tsi`negia` (liquid). Another name for
the tsane`ni or scorpion lizard.
gi`gage`i--red, bright red, scarlet; the brown-red of certain animals
and clays is distinguished as wa`dige`i.
gi`ga-tsuha`li--"bloody-mouth," literally "having blood on the corners
of his mouth"; from gi`ga, blood, and tsuhanunsi`yi, the corners of
the mouth (aha`li, his mouth). A large lizard, probably the pleistodon.
gili--dog; the Lower dialect, gi`ri.
Gili-dinehun`yi--"where the dogs live," from gili, dog, dinehu`,
"they dwell" (ehu, "I dwell"), and yi, locative. A place on Oconaluftee
river, a short distance above the present Cherokee in Swain Co., N. C.
Gi`li`-utsun`stanun`yi--"where the dog ran," from gili`, dog, and
Utsun`stanun`yi, "footprints made by an animal running"; the Milky way.
ginunti--a song form for gunu`tii`, "to lay him (animate object)
upon the ground."
giri--see gi`li`.
Gisehun`yi--"where the female lives," from agi`si, female, and yi,
locative. A place on Tuckasegee river a short distance above Bryson
City, in Swain Co., N. C.
git`lu--hair. (Upper dialect); in Lower and Middle dialects gitsu.
Glass, The--see Ta`gwadihi`.
Gohoma--A Lower Cherokee chief in 1684; the form cannot be identified.
Going-snake--see I`naduna`i.
Gorhaleka--a Lower Cherokee chief in 1684; the form cannot be
identified.
Great Island--see Amayel-e`gwa.
Gregory Bald--see Tsistu`yi.
Guachoula--see Guaxule.
Guaquila (Waki la)--a town in the Cherokee country, visited by De
Soto in 1540, and again in 1567 by Pardo, who calls it Aguaquiri,
and the name may have a connection with waguli, "Whippoorwill,"
or with u`wa`gi`li, "foam."
Guasula--see Guaxule.
Gusila--see Guaxule.
Guaxule--a town in Cherokee county, visited in 1540 by De Soto. It
was probably about at Nacoochee mound in White Co., Ga.
gu`day`wu--"I have sewed myself together"; "I am sewing," tsiye`wia`;
"I am sewing myself together."
gugwe`--the quail or partridge.
gugwe`ulasu`la--"partridge moccasin," from guewe, partridge, and
ulasula, moccasin or shoe; the lady slipper.
Gulahi`yi (abbreviated Gulahi`, or Gurahi`, in the Lower
dialect)--"Gula`hi place," so-called from the unidentified spring plant
eaten as a salad by the Cherokee. The name of two or more places in the
old Cherokee country; one about Currahee mountain, in Habersham Co.,
Ga., the other on Cullowhee river, an upper branch of Tuckasegee, in
Jackson Co., N. C. Currahee Dick was a noted chief about the year 1820.
Gu`lani`yi--a Cherokee and Natchez settlement, formerly about the
junction of Brasstown creek with Hiwassee river, a short distance above
Murphy, in Cherokee Co., N. C. The etymology of the word is doubtful.
gule`--acorn.
gule`diska`nihi--the turtle-dove; literally "it cries, or mourns,
for acorns," from gule, acorn, and diska`nihi`, "it cries for them,"
(di-. plural prefix, hi, habitual suffix). The turtle-dove feeds upon
acorns and its cry somewhat resembles the name, gule.
gule`gi--"climber," from tsilahi, "I climb" (second person, hi`lahi;
third person, gulahi); the blacksnake.
Gul`kala`ski--an earlier name for Tsunu`lahun`ski, q. v.
gul`kwa`gi--seven; also the mole-cricket.
gul`kwa`gine(-i)--seventh; from gul`kwagi, seven.
Gulsadihi (or Gultsadihi`?) a masculine name of uncertain etymology.
gunahi`ti--long.
Gu`nahitun`yi--Long place (i. e., Long valley), from gunahi`ti,
long, and yi, locative. A former settlement known to the whites as
Valleytown, where now is the town of the same name on Valley river in
Cherokee Co., N. C. The various settlements on Valley river and the
adjacent part of Hiwassee were known collectively as "Valley towns."
Gun`di`gaduhun`yi (abbreviated Gun`-digadu`hun)--"Turkey settlement"
(gu`na, turkey), so-called from the chief, Turkey or Little Turkey. A
former settlement, known to the whites as Turkeytown, upon the
west bank of Coosa river, opposite the present Center, in Cherokee,
Co., Ala.
gu`ni--arrow. Cf. Senica, ga`na.
gun`nage`i (or gun`nage) black.
Gunne`hi--see Nunne`hi.
Gunskali`ski--a masculine personal name of uncertain etymology.
Gunters Landing, Guntersville--see Ku`sa-Nunna`hi.
Gun-tuskwa`li--"short arrows," from guni, arrow, and tsuskwa`li,
plural of uska`li, short; a traditional western tribe.
Gunun`da`le`gi--see Nunna-hi`dihi.
Gusti`--a traditional Cherokee settlement on Tennessee river, near
Kingston, Roane Co., Tenn. The name cannot be analyzed.
Gu`wisguwi`--The Cherokee name of the chief John Ross, and for the
district named in his honor, commonly spelled Cooweescoowee. Properly
an onomatope for a large bird said to have been seen formerly at
infrequent intervals in the old Cherokee country, accompanying the
migratory wild geese, and described as resembling a large snipe,
with yellow legs and unwebbed feet. In boyhood John Ross was known
as Tsan`usdi, "Little John."
Gwal`ga`hi--"Frog-place," from gwal`gu, a variety of frog, and hi,
locative. A place on Hiwassee river, just above the junction of
Peachtree creek, near Murphy, in Cherokee Co., N. C.; about 1755 the
site of a village of refugee Natchez, and later of a Baptist mission.
gwehe`--a cricket's cry.
Ha!--an introductory exclamation intended to attract attention or
add emphasis; about equivalent to Here! Now!
Ha`-ma`ma`--a song term compounded of ha! an introductory exclamation,
and mama`, a word which has no analysis, but is used in speaking to
young children to mean "let me carry you on my back."
Hanging-maw--see Uskwa`li-gu`ta.
ha`nia-lil`-lil`--an unmeaning dance refrain.
Hard-mush--see Gatun`wali.
ha`tlu--dialectic form, ga`tsu, "where?" (interrogative).
ha`wiye`ehi`, ha`wiye`hyuwe`--unmeaning dance refrains.
hayu`--an emphatic affirmative, about equivalent to "Yes, sir."
hayuya`haniwa`--an unmeaning refrain in one of the bear songs.
he-e!--an unmeaning song introduction.
Hemp-carrier--see Tale`danigi`ski.
Hemptown--see Gatunlti`yi.
hi!--unmeaning dance exclamation.
Hickory-log--see Wane`-asun`tlunyi.
hi`gina`lii--"(you are) my friend"; afina`lii, "(he is) my friend." In
white man's jargon, canaly.
Hightower--see I`tawa`.
hila`gu?--how many? how much? (Upper dialect); the Middle dialect
form is hungu`.
hilahi`yu--long ago; the final yu makes it more emphatic.
hi`lunnu--"(thou) go to sleep"; from tsi`lihu`, "I am asleep."
hi`ski--five; cf. Mohawk wisk. The Cherokee numerals including 10 are
as follows: sa`gwu, ta`li, tsa`i, nun`gi, hi`ski, su`tali, gul kwa`gi,
tsune`la, aska`hi
Hiwassee--Ayuhwa`si.
hi`yagu`we--an unmeaning dance refrain.
Houston, Samuel--see Ka`lanu.
huhu--the yellow-breasted chat, or yellow mocking bird (Icteria
virens); the name is an onomatope.
hunyahu`ska--"he will die."
hwi`lahi`--"thou (must) go."
Iau`nigu--an important Cherokee settlement, commonly known to the
whites as Seneca, formerly on Keowee river, about the mouth of
Conneross creek, in Oconee county, S. C. Hopewell, the country seat
of General Pickens, where the famous treaty was made, was near it on
the east side of the river. The word cannot be translated, but has
no connection with the tribal name, Seneca.
igagu`ti--daylight. The name is sometimes applied to the ulunsu`ti
(q. v.) and also to the clematis vine.
i`hya--the cane reed (Arundinaria) of the Gulf states, used by the
Indians for blow-guns, fishing rods and basketry.
ihya`ga--see atsil`sunti.
inadu`--snake.
I`nadu-na`i--"Going snake," a Cherokee chief prominent about eighty
years ago. The name properly signifies that the person is "going along
in company with a snake," the verbal part being from the irregular
verb asta`i, "I am going along with him." The name has been given to
a district of the present Cherokee Nation.
i`nage`hi--dwelling in the wilderness, an inhabitant of the wilderness;
from i`nage`i "wilderness," and ehi, habitual present form of ehu,
"he is dwelling"; ge`u, "I am dwelling."
I`nage-utasun`hi--"he who grew up in the wilderness," i. e., "He who
grew up wild"; from i`nage`i, "wilderness, unoccupied timber land," and
utasun`hi, the third person perfect of the irregular verb ga`tunsku`,
"I am growing up."
Ina`li--Black-fox; the common red fox in tsu`la (in Muscogee,
chula). Black-fox was principal chief of the Cherokee Nation in 1810.
Iskagua--Name for "Clear Sky," formerly "Nenetooyah or the Bloody
Fellow." The name appears thus in a document of 1791 as that of
a Cherokee chief frequently mentioned about that period under the
name of "Bloody Fellow." In one treaty it is given as "Eskaqua or
Bloody Fellow." Both forms and etymologies are doubtful, neither form
seeming to have any reference either to "sky" (galun`lahi) or "blood"
(gi`ga). The first may be intended for Ik-e`gwa, "Great day."
Istanare--see Ustana`li.
Itaba--see I`tawa`.
Itagu`nahi--the Cherokee name of John Ax.
I`tawa`--The name of one or more Cherokee settlements. One,
which existed until the Removal in 1838, was upon Etowah river,
about the present Hightower, in Forsyth county, Ga. Another may
have been on Hightower creek of Hiwassee river in Towns county,
Ga. The name, commonly written Etowah and corrupted to Hightower,
cannot be translated and seems not to be of Cherokee origin. A town,
called Itaba, Ytaun or Ytava in the De Soto chronicles, existed in
1540 among the Creeks, apparently on Alabama river.
Itsa`ti--commonly spelled Echota, Chota, Chote, Choquata (misprint),
etc.; a name occurring in several places in the old Cherokee country;
the meaning is lost. The most important settlement of this name,
frequently distinguished as Great Echota, was on the south side of
Little Tennessee. It was the ancient capital and sacred "Peace town"
of the Nation. Little Echota was on Sautee (i. e., Its`ti) creek,
a head stream of the Chattahoochee, west of Clarksville, Ga. New
Echota, the capital of the Nation for some years before the Removal,
was established at a spot originally known as Gansa`gi (q. v.) at the
junction of the Oostanaula and Canasauga rivers, in Gordon county,
Ga. It was sometimes called Newton. The old Macedonia mission on
Soco creek, of the N. C. reservation, is also known as Itas`ti to
the Cherokee, as was also the great Nacoochee mound. See Nagutsi`.
Itse`yi--"New green place" or "Place of fresh green," from itse`hi,
"green or unripe vegetation," and yi, the locative; applied more
particularly to a tract of ground made green by fresh springing
vegetation, after having been cleared of timber or burned over. A name
occurring in several places in the Old Cherokee country, variously
written Echia, Echoee, Etchowee, and sometimes also falsely rendered
"Brasstown," from a confusion of Itse`yi with untsaiyi`, "brass." One
settlement of this name was upon Brasstown creek of Tugaloo river,
in Oconee county, S. C.; another was on Little Tennessee river near
the present Franklin, Macon county, N. C., and probably about the
junction of Cartoogaja (Gatug-itse`yi) creek; a third, known to the
whites as Brasstown, was on upper Brasstown creek of Hiwassee river,
in Towns county, Ga. In Cherokee, as in most other Indian languages,
no clear distinction is made between green and blue.
i`ya--pumpkin.
i`ya`-iuy`sti--"like a pumpkin," from i`ya and iyu`sti, like.
i`ya`-tawi`skage--"of pumpkin smoothness," from i`ya, pumpkin, and
tawi`skage, smooth.
Jackson--see Tsek`sini`.
Jessan--see Tsesa`ni.
Jesse Reid--see Tse`si-Ska`tsi.
Joanna Bald--see Diya`hali`yi.
Joara, Juada--see Ani`-Sawa`li.
John--see Tsa`ni.
John Ax--see Itagu`nahi.
Jolly, John--see Anu`lude`gi.
Junaluska--see Tsunu`lahun`ski.
Jutaculla--see Tsulkalu`.
ka`gu`--crow; the name is an onomatope.
Kagun`yi--"Crow place," from ka`gu`, and yi, locative.
ka`i--grease, oil.
Kala`asun`yi--"where he fell off," from tsila`asku`, "I am falling
off," and yi, locative. A cliff near Cold Spring knob, in Swain county,
North Carolina.
Ka`lahu`--"All-bones," from ka`lu, bone. A former chief of the East
Cherokee, also known in the tribe as Sawanu`gi.
Ka`lanu--"The Raven"; the name was used as a war title in the tribe
and appears in the old documents as Corani (Lower dialect, Ka`ranu)
Colonneh, Colona, etc. It is the Cherokee name for General Samuel
Houston or for any person named Houston.
Ka`lanu Ahyeli`ski--the Raven Mocker.
Ka`lanun`yi--"Raven place," from ka`lanu, raven, and yi, the
locative. The proper name of Big-cove settlement upon the East Cherokee
reservation, Swain county, N. C., sometimes also called Raventown.
kalas`-gunahi`ta--"long hams" (gunahi`ta, "long"); a variety of bear.
Kal-detsi`yunyi--"where the bones are," from ka`lu, bone, and
detsi`yunyi, "where (yi) they (de--plural prefix) are lying." A spot
near the junction of East Buffalo Creek with Cheowa river, in Graham
county, N. C.
kama`ma--butterfly.
kama`ma u`tanu--elephant; literally "great butterfly," from the
resemblance of the trunk and ears to the butterfly's proboscis
and wings.
kanaha`na--a sour corn gruel, much in use among the Cherokee and
other Southern tribes; the tamfuli or "Tom Fuller" of the Creeks.
kanane`ski--spider; also, from a fancied resemblance in appearance
to a watch or clock.
kanane`ski amaye`hi--the water spider.
Kana`sta, Kanastun`yi--a traditional Cherokee settlement, formerly on
the head-waters of the French Broad river, near the present Brevard,
in Transylvania county, North Carolina. The meaning of the first name
is lost. A settlement called Cannostee or Cannastion is mentioned as
existing on Hiwassee river in 1776.
kana`talu`hi--hominy cooked with walnut kernels.
Kana`ti--"Lucky Hunter"; a masculine name, sometimes abbreviated
Kanat`. The word cannot be analyzed, but is used as a third person
habitual verbal form to mean "he is lucky, or successful, in hunting";
the opposite is ukwa`legu, "unlucky, or unsuccessful, in hunting."
kanegwa`ti--the water-moccasin snake.
Kanuga--also written Canuga; a Lower Cherokee settlement, apparently
on the waters of Keowee river, in S. C., destroyed in 1751; also
a traditional settlement on Pigeon river, probably near the present
Waynesville, in Haywood county, N. C. The name signifies "a scratcher,"
a sort of bone-toothed comb with which ball-players are scratched
upon their naked skin preliminary to applying the conjured medicine;
de`tsinuga`sku, "I am scratching it."
kanugu` la (abbreviated nungu` la)--"scratcher," a generic term for
blackberry, raspberry, and other brier bushes.
Kanu`gulayi, or Kanu`gulun`yi--"Brier place," from kanugu`la, brier
(cf. Kanu`ga); a Cherokee settlement formerly on Nantahala river,
about the mouth of Briertown creek, in Macon county, N. C.
Kanun`nawu`--pipe.
Kasdu`yi--"Ashes place," from kasdu, ashes, and yi, the locative. A
modern Cherokee name for the town of Asheville, Buncombe county,
N. C. The ancient name for the same site is Unta`kiyasti`yi, q. v.
Katal`sta--an East Cherokee woman potter, the daughter of the chief
Yanagun`ski. The name conveys the idea of lending, from tsiyatal`sta,
"I lend it"; agatal`sta, "it is lent to him."
Kawan`-ura`sunyi--(abbreviated Kawan`-ura`sun in the Lower
dialect)--"where the duck fell," from kawa`na, duck, ura`sa (ula`sa),
"it fell," and yi, locative. A point on Conneross creek (from
Kawan`-ura`sun), near Seneca, in Oconee county, S. C.
Kawi`yi (abbreviated Kawi`)--a former important Cherokee settlement
commonly known as Cowee, about the mouth of Cowee creek of Little
Tennessee river, some 10 miles below Franklin, in Macon county,
N. C. The name may possibly be a contraction of Ani`-Kawi`yi, "Place
of the Deer clan."
Keeowhee--see Keowee.
Kenesaw--see Gansa`gi.
Keowee--the name of two or more former Cherokee settlements. One
sometimes distinguished as "Old Keowee," the principal of the Lower
Cherokee towns, was on the river of the same name, near the present
Fort George, in Oconee county, of S. C. Another, distinguished as New
Keowee, was on the head-waters of Twelve-mile creek, in Pickens county,
S. C. According to Wafford the correct form is Kuwahi`yi, abbreviated
Kuwahi`, "Mulberry-grove place." Says Wafford, "the whites murdered
the name as they always do." Cf. Kuwa`hi.
Ke`si-ka`gamu--a woman's name, a Cherokee corruption of Cassie Cockran;
ka`gamu is also the Cherokee corruption for "cucumber."
Ketoowah--see Kilu`hwa.
Kittuwa--see Kitu`hwa.
Kitu`hwa--an important ancient Cherokee settlement formerly upon
Tuckasegee river, and extending from above the junction of Oconaluftee
down nearly to the present Bryson City, in Swain county, N. C. The
name, which appears also as Kettooah, Kittoa, Kittowa, etc., has lost
its meaning. The people of this and the subordinate settlements on the
waters of the Tuckasegee were known as Ani`-Kitu`hwagi, and the name
was frequently extended to include the whole tribe. For this reason
it was adopted in later times as the name of the Cherokee secret
organization, commonly known to the whites as the Ketoowah society,
pledged to the defense of Cherokee autonomy.
kiyu ga--ground-squirrel; te`wa, flying squirrel; sala`li, gray
squirrel.
Klausuna--see Tlanusi`yi.
Knoxville--see Kuwanda`ta lun`yi.
ku!--an introductory explanation, to fix attention, about equivalent to
"Now!"
kuku`--"cymbling"; also the "jigger weed," or "pleurisy root"
(Asclepias tuberosa). Coco creek of Hiwassee river, and Coker
post-office, in Monroe county, Tennessee, derive their name from
this word.
Kulsetsi`yi (abbreviated Kulse`tsi)--"Honey-locust place," from
kulse`tsi, honey-locust (Gleditschia) and yi, locative; as the
same word, kulse` tsi, is also used for "sugar," the local name has
commonly been rendered Sugartown by the traders. The name of several
former settlement places in the old Cherokee country. One was upon
Keowee river, near the present Fall creek, in Oconee county, S. C.;
another was on Sugartown or Cullasagee (Kulse`tsi) creek, near the
present Franklin, in Macon county, N. C.; a third was on Sugartown
creek, near the present Morgantown, in Fannin county, Ga.
Kunnesee--see Tsi`yu-gunsi`ni.
Kunstutsi`yi--"Sassafras place," from kunstu`tsi, sassafras, and yi,
locative. A gap in the Great Smoky range, about the head of Noland
creek, on the line between North Carolina and Sevier county, Tenn.
kunu`nu (abbreviated kunun`)--the bullfrog; the name is probably an
onomatope; the common green frog is wala`si and there are also names
for several other varieties of frogs and toads.
Kusa`--Coosa creek, an upper tributary of Nottely river, near
Blairsville, Union county, Georgia. The change of accent from Ku`sa
(Creek, see Ani`-Ku`sa) makes it locative.
Ku`sa-nunna`hi--"Creek trail," from Ku`sa, Creek Indian, and Nunna`hi,
path, trail; cf. Suwa`li-nunna`hi. A former important Cherokee
settlement, including also a number of Creeks and Shawano, where the
trail from the Ohio region to the creek country crossed Tennessee
river, at the present Guntersville, in Marshall county, Ala. It was
known to the traders as Creek-path, and later as Gunter's landing,
from a Cherokee mixed-blood named Gunter.
Ku`swati`yi (abbreviated Ku`saweti`)--"Old Creek place," from
Ku`sa, a Creek Indian (plural Ani`-ku`sa), uwe`ti, old, and yi,
locative. Coosawatee, an important Cherokee settlement formerly on
the lower part of Coosawatee river, in Gordon county, Ga. In one
document the name appears, by error, Tensawattee.
Kuwa`hi--"Mulberry place," from ku`wa, mulberry tree, and hi,
locative. Clingman's dome, about the head of Deep creek, on the
Great Smoky range, between Swain county, N. C., and Sevier county,
Tenn. See also Keowee.
Kuwanda`ta lun`yi (abbreviated Kuwanda`ta lun)--"Mulberry grove," from
ku`wa, mulberry; the Cherokee name for the present site of Knoxville,
in Knox county, Tenn.
Kwa`li, Kwalun`yi--Qualla or Quallatown, the former agency for the East
Cherokee and now a post-office station, just outside the reservation,
on a branch of Soco creek, in Jackson county, North Carolina. It is
the Cherokee form for "Polly," and the station was so-called from an
old woman of that name who formerly lived near by; Kwa`li, "Polly"
Kwalun`yi, "Polly's place." The reservation is locally known as the
Qualla boundary.
kwandaya`hu--see da`liksta`.
la`lu--the jar-fly (Cicada auletes).
Little Carpenter, Little Cornplanter--see Ata`-gul kalu`.
Long-hair--a Cherokee chief living with his band in Ohio in 1795. The
literal Cherokee translation of "Long-hair" is Gitlu`gunahi`ta,
but it is not certain that the English name is a correct rendering
of the Indian form. Cf. Ani`-Gila`hi.
Long Island--see Amaye li-gunahi`ta.
Lookout Mountain Town--see Danda`ganu`.
Lowrey, Major George--see Agili.
Mayes, J. B.--see Tsa`wa Gak`ski.
Memphis--see Tsuda`talesun`yi.
Mialaquo--see Amaye l-e`gwa.
Moses--see Wa`si.
Moytoy--a Cherokee chief recognized by the English as "emperor" in
1730. Both the correct form and the meaning of the name are uncertain;
the name occurs again as Moyatoy in a document of 1793; a boy upon the
East Cherokee reservation a few years ago bore the name of Ma`tayi`,
for which no meaning can be found or given.
Mussel Shoals--see Dagu`nahi.
Nacoochee--see Na`gu tsi.
Na`duli--known to the whites as Nottely. A former Cherokee settlement
on Nottely river, close to the Georgia line, in Cherokee county,
N. C. The name cannot be translated and has not any connection with
na tu li, "spicewood."
Na`gu tsi`--a former important settlement about the junction of Soquee
and Santee rivers, in Nacoochee valley, at the head of Chattahoochee
river, in Habersham county, Ga. The meaning of the word is lost and it
is doubtful if it be of Cherokee origin. It may have some connection
with the name of the Uchee Indians. The great mound farther up Sautee
river, in White county, was known to the Cherokee as Itsa`ti.
nakwisi` (abbreviated nakusi)--star; also the meadow lark.
nakwisi` usdi`--"little star"; the puffball fungus (Lycoperdon?).
Na`na-tlu gun`yi (abbreviated Na`na-tlu gun`, or Na`na-tsu
gun`)--"Spruce-tree place," from na`na, spruce, tlu gun`i, or tsu
gun`i, a tree (standing) and yi, locative, 1. A traditional ancient
Cherokee settlement on the site of Jonesboro, Washington county,
Tenn. The name of Nolichucky river is probably a corruption of the
same word. 2. Nan-tsu gun, a place on Nottely river, close to its
junction with Hiwassee, in Cherokee county, N. C.
Nanehi--see Nunne`hi.
Nantahala--see Nundaye` li.
Nashville--see Dagu`nawe`lahi.
Natchez--see Ani`-Na'tsi.
Nats-asun`tlunyi (abbreviated Nats-asun`tlun)--"Pine-footing place,"
from na'tsi, pine, asun`tli or asun-tlun`i, footlog, bridge, and yi,
locative. A former Cherokee settlement, commonly known as Pinelog,
on the creek of the same name, in Bartow county, Georgia.
na'tsi--pine.
na`tsiku`--"I eat it" (tsi`kiu`, "I am eating").
na tu li--spicewood (Lindera benzoin).
Naye`hi--see Nunne`hi.
Nayunuwi--see Nunyunu`wi.
nehanduyanu`--a song form for nehadu`yanu`, an irregular verbal form
denoting "conceived in the womb."
Nellawgitehi--given as the name of a Lower Cherokee chief in 1684. The
correct form and meaning are both uncertain, but the final part seems
to be the common suffix didi`, "killer." Cf. Ta`gwadiahi`.
Nenetooyah--see Iskagua.
Nequassee--see Ki`kwasi`.
Nettecawaw--see Gatayu`sti.
Nettle-carrier--see Tale`danigi`ski.
New Echota, Newtown--see Itsa`ti.
Nickajack--see Nikutse`gi.
Nicotani--see Ani`-Kuta`ni.
Nikwasi` (or Nikwsi`)--an important ancient settlement on Little
Tennessee river, where now is the town of Franklin, in Macon county,
N. C. A large mound marks the site of the town-house. The name appears
in old documents as Nequassee, Nucassee, etc. Its meaning is lost.
Nikutse`gi (also Nukatse`gi, Nikwatse`gi, or abbreviated
Nikutseg`)--Nickajack, an important Cherokee settlement, about 1790,
on the south bank of Tennessee river, at the entrance of Nickajack
creek, in Marion county, Tenn. One of the Five Chickamauga towns (see
Tsikama`gi). The meaning of the word is lost and it is probably not
of Cherokee origin, although it occurs also in the tribe as a man's
name. In the corrupted form of "Nigger Jack," it occurs also as the
name of a creek of Cullasaja river above Franklin, in Macon county,
N. C.
Nilaque--see Amaye l-e`gwa.
Nolichucky--see Na`na-tlugun`yi.
Notchy--a creek entering Tellico river, in Monroe county, Tenn. The
name evidently refers to Natchez Indian refugees, who formerly lived
in the vicinity (see Ani`-Na'tsi).
Nottely--see Na`duli`.
nu--used as a suffix to denote "and," or "also"; u`le-nu, "and also"
na`ski-nu`, "and that," "that also."
Nucassee--see Nikwasi`.
nu`dunnelu`--he did so and so: an irregular form apparently connected
with the archaic forms adunni`ga, "it has just become so," and udunnu,
"it is matured, or finished."
Nugatsa`ni--a ridge sloping down to Oconaluftee river, below Cherokee,
in Swain county, N. C. An archaic form denoting a high ridge with a
long gradual slope.
nu`na--potato; the name was originally applied to the wild "pig potato"
(Phaseolus), now distinguished as mu`na igatehi, "swamp-dwelling
potato."
nun`da--the sun or moon, distinguished as unu`da` ige`hi, nun`da`
"dwelling in the day," and nun`da` sunna`yehi, nun`da "dwelling in
the night." In the sacred formulas the moon is sometimes called Ge
yagu`ga, or Su`talidihi, "Six-keller," names apparently founded upon
myths now lost.
nun`da`-dikani--a rare bird formerly seen occasionally in the
old Cherokee country, possibly the little blue heron (Floridus
cerulea). The name seems to mean "it looks at the sun," i. e.,
"sun-gazer," from nun`da`, sun, and da`ka na` or detsi`ka na, "I am
looking at it."
Nundawe`gi--see Ani`-Nundawe`gi.
Nun`daye li--"Middle (i. e., Noonday) sun," from nunda`, sun and
aye li, middle; a former Cherokee settlement on Nantahala river,
near the present Jarrett station, in Macon county, N. C., so-called
from the high cliffs which shut out the view of the sun until nearly
noon. The name appears also as Nantahala, Nantiyallee, Nuntialla,
etc. It appears to have been applied properly only to the point on the
river where the cliffs are most perpendicular, while the settlement
itself was known as Kanu`gu la`yi, "Briertown," q. v.
Nun`dagun`yi, Nunda`yi--the Sun land, or east; from nun`da`, sun, and
yi, locative. Used in the sacred formulas instead of di`galungun`yi,
"where it rises," the common word.
nun`gi--four. See hi`ski.
nungu la--see kanugu` la.
nunna`hi (abbreviated nunna)--a path, trail or road.
Nunna`hi-dihi` (abbreviated Nun`na-dihi`)--"Path-killer," literally,
"he kills (habitually) in the path," from nun`nahi, path, and ahihi`,
"he kills" (habitually); "I am killing," tsi`ihu`. A principal chief,
about the year 1813. Major John Ridge was originally known by the
same name, but afterward took the name, Gunun`da le`gi, "One who
follows the ridge," which the whites made simply ridge.
Nunna`hi-tsune`ga (abbreviated) Nunna-tsune`ga--"white-path,"
from nunna`hi, path, and tsune`ga, plural of une`ga, white; the
form is the plural, as is common in Indian names, and has probably
a symbolic reference to the "white" or peaceful paths spoken of in
the opening invocation at the green corn dance. A noted chief who
led the conservative party about 1828.
Nunne`hi (also Gunne`hi; singular Naye`hi)--a race of invisible spirit
people. The name is derived from the verb e`hu`, "I dwell, I live,"
e`hi`, "I dwell habitually," and may be rendered "dwellers anywhere,"
or "those who live anywhere," but implies having always been there,
i. e., "Immortals." It has been spelled Nanehi and Nuhnayie by
different writers. The singular form Naye`hi occurs also as a personal
name, about equivalent to Eda`hi, "One who goes about."
Nuniyu`sti--"potato-like," from nu`na, potato, and iyu`sti, like. A
flowering vine with tuberous root somewhat resembling the potato.
Nunyu`--rock, stone.
Nunyu`-gunwam`ski--"Rock that talks," from nunyu`, rock, and
tsiwa`nihu, "I am talking." A rock from which Talking-rock creek of
Coosawatee river, in Georgia, derives its name.
Nun`yunu`wi--contracted from Nunyu-unu`wi. "Stone-clad," from nunyu,
rock, and agwaun`wu, "I am clothed or covered." A mythic monster,
invulnerable by reason of his stony skin. The name is also applied
sometimes to the stinging ant, dasuntali atatsunski, q. v. It has
also been spelled Nayunuwi.
Nunyu`-tlu guni (or Nunyu-tsu gun`i)--"Tree-rock," a notable rock on
Hiwassee river, just within the N. C. line.
Nunyu`-twi`ska--"Slick rock," from nunyu`, rock, and twiska, smooth,
slick; the form remains unchanged for the locative. 1. Slick-rock
creek, entering Little Tennessee river just within the west line
of Graham county, N. C. 2. A place at the extreme head of Brasstown
creek of Hiwassee river, in Towns county, Ga.
Ocoee--see Uwaga`hi.
Oconaluftee--see Egwanul ti.
Oconee--see Ukwu`nu.
Oconostota--see Agansta`ta.
Old Tassel--see Utsi`dsata`.
Ooltewah--see Ultiwa`i.
Oostinaleh--see U`stana`li.
Oothealoga--see Uy`gila`gi.
Otacite, Otassite--see Outacity.
Otari, Otariyatiqui--mentioned as a place, apparently on the Cherokee
frontier, visited by Pardo in 1567. Otari seems to be the Cherokee
atari or atali, mountain, but the rest of the word is doubtful.
Ottare--see a`tali.
Owasta--given as the name of a Cherokee chief in 1684; the form cannot
be identified.
Ougillogy--see Uy`gila`gi.
Outacity--given in documents as the name or title of a prominent
Cherokee chief about 1720. It appears also as Otacite, Ottassite,
Outassatah, Wootassite and Wrosetasatow (!), but the form cannot
be identified, although it seems to contain the personal name suffix
diha`, "killer." Timberlake says: "There are some other honorary titles
among them, conferred in reward of great actions; the first of which
is Outacity or "Man-killer," and the second Colona or "The Raven."
Outassatah--see Outacity.
Owassa--see Ayuhwa`si.
Paint-town--see Ani`-Wa`dihi`.
Path-killer--see Nuna`hi-dihi`.
Phoenix, Cherokee--see Tsule`hisanun`hi.
Pigeon River--see Wayi.
Pine Indians--see Ani`-Na'tsi.
Pinelog--see Na ts-asun`tlunyi.
Qualatchee--a former Cherokee settlement on the headwaters of the
Chattahoochee river in Georgia; another of the same name was upon
the waters of Keowee river in S. C. The correct form is unknown.
Qualla--see Kwali.
Quaxule--see Guaxule.
Quinahaqui--a place, possibly in the Cherokee country, visited by
Pardo in 1567. The form cannot be identified.
Quoneashee--see Tlanusi`yi.
Rattlesnake Springs--see Utsanatiyi.
Rattling-Gourd--see Ganseti.
Raventown--see Kalanun`yi.
Red Clay--see Elawa`diyi.
Reid, Jesse--see Tse`si-Ska`tsi.
Ridge, Major John--see Nunna`hi-dihi`.
Ross, John--see Gu`wisguwi`.
Ross' Landing--see Tsatanu`gi.
Sadayi`--a feminine name, the proper name of the woman known to the
whites as Annie Ax; it cannot be translated.
Sagwa`hi, or Sagwun`yi--"One place," from sa`gwu, one, and hi or
yi, locative. Soco creek of Oconaluftee river, on the East Cherokee
reservation, in Jackson county, N. C. No satisfactory reason is given
for the name, which has its parallel in Tsaska`hi, "Thirty place,"
a local name in Cherokee county, N. C.
sa`gwalt`--horse; from asagwalihu, a pack or burden, asagwal lu`;
"there is a pack on him."
sa`gwali digu`lanahi`ta--mule; literally "long-eared horse," from
sa`gwali, horse, and digu`lanahi`ta, q. v.
saikwa`yi--bear-grass (Erynigium) also the greensnake, on account of
a fancied resemblance; the name of a former Cherokee settlement on
Sallacoa creek of Coosawatee river, in Gordon county, Ga.
Sakwi`yi (or Suki`yi; abbreviated Sakwi` or Suki`)--a former settlement
on Soquee river, a head stream of Chattahoochee, near Clarksville,
Habersham county, Ga. Also written Saukee and Sookee. The name has
lost its meaning.
sala`li--squirrel; the common gray squirrel; other varieties are kiyu
ga, the ground squirrel, and tewa, the flying squirrel; Sala`li was
also the name of an East Cherokee inventor who died a few years ago;
Sala`lani`ta` "Young-squirrels," is a masculine personal name on
the reservation.
saligu`gi--turtle, the common water turtle; soft-shell turtle,
u`lana`wa; land tortoise or terrapin, tuksi`.
Sa`nigila`gi (abbreviated San gila`gi)--Whiteside mountain, a
prominent peak of the Blue Ridge, southeast from Franklin, Macon
county, N. C. It is connected with the tradition of Utlun`ta.
Santeetla--the present map name of a creek joining Cheiwa river
in Graham county, N. C., and of a smaller tributary (Little
Santeetla). The name is not recognized or understood by the Cherokee,
who insist that it was given by the whites. Little Santeetla is known
to the Cherokee as Tsundanilti`yi, q. v.; the modern Santeetla creek is
commonly known as Nayu`higeyun`i, "Sand-place stream," from "Nuyu`hi,
"Sand place" (nayu, sand), a former settlement just above the junction
of the two creeks.
Sara--see Ani`-Suwa`li.
Sa`sa`--goose; an onomatope.
Sautee--see Itsa`ti.
Savannah--the popular name of this river is derived from that of the
Shawano Indians, formerly living upon its middle course, and known to
the Cherokee as Ani`Swanu`gi, q. v., to the Creeks as Savanuka, and
to some of the coast tribes of Carolina as Savanna. In old documents
the river is also called Isundiga, from Isu`nigu or Seneca, q. v.,
an important former Cherokee settlement upon its upper waters.
Sawanu`gi--"Shawano" (Indian); a masculine personal name upon the East
Cherokee reservation and prominent in the history of the band. See
Ani`Sawanu`gi and Ka`lahu`.
Sawnook--see Ka`lahu`.
Sehwate`yi--"Hornet place," from se`hwatu, hornet, and yi,
locative. Cheowa Maximum and Swim Bald, adjoining bald peaks at the
head of Cheowa river, Graham county, N. C.
selu--corn; sometimes called in the sacred formulas Agawe`la, "The
Old Woman."
sel-utsi` (for selu-utsi`)--"corn's mother," from selu, corn, and
utsi`, his mother (etsi` or agitsi`, my mother); the bead-corn or
Job's-tears (Coix lacryma).
Seneca--see Ani`-Nun`dawe`gi (Seneca tribe), and Isu`nigu. (Seneca
town.)
Sequatchee--see Si`gwetsi`.
Sequoya--see Sikwayi.
Setsi--a mound and traditional Cherokee settlement on the south side
of the Valley river, about three miles below Valleytown, in Cherokee
county, N. C.; the name has lost its meaning. A settlement called
Tasetsi (Tassetchie in some old documents) existed on the extreme
head of Hiwassee river, in Towns county, Ga.
Sevier--see Tsan`-usdi`.
Shoe-boots--see Da`si giya`gi.
Shooting creek--see Du`stayalun`yi.
Si`gwetsi`--a traditional Cherokee settlement on the south bank of
French Broad river, not far from Knoxville, Knox county, Tenn. Near
by was the quarry from which it is said the stone for the white
peace pipes was obtained. Swquatchee, the name of the river below
Chattanooga, in Tenn., is probably a corruption of the same word.
si`dwa--hog; originally the name of the opossum, now distinguished
as si`kwa utset`sti, q. v.
si`kwa utset`sti--opossum; literally "grinning hog," from si`kwa,
hog, and utset`sti, "he grins" (habitually).
Sikwa`yi--a masculine name, commonly written Sequoya, made famous as
that of the inventor of the Cherokee alphabet. The name, which cannot
be translated, is still in use upon the East Cherokee reservation.
Sikwi`a--a masculine name, the Cherokee corruption for Sevier. See
also Tsan-usdi`.
sinnawah--see tla`nuwa.
Si`tiku` (or su`tagu`, in dialectic form)--a former Cherokee settlement
on Little Tennessee river, at the entrance of Citico creek, in Monroe
county, Tenn. The name, which cannot be translated, is commonly
spelled Citico, but appears also as Sattiquo, Settico, Settacoo,
Sette, Sittiquo, etc.
siyu`--see a`siyu`.
skinta`--for skin`tagu`, understood to mean "put a new tooth into my
jaw." The word cannot be analyzed, but is derived from gantka` (ganta
ga in a dialectic form) a tooth in place; a tooth detached is kayu ga.
Skwan`-digu gun`yi (for Askwan`-digu gun`yi)--"where the Spaniard
is in the water" (or other liquid). A place on Upper Soco creek,
on the reservation in Jackson county, N. C.
Slick Rock--see Nunyu`tawi`ska.
Smith, N. J.--see Tsaladihi`.
Snowbird--see Tuti`yi.
Soco creek--see Sagwa`hi.
Soco Gap--see Ahalu`na.
Soquee--see Sakwi`yi.
Spray, H. W.--see Wilsini`.
spring-frog--see Du`stu`.
Standing Indian--see Yunwi-tsulenun`yi.
Stand Watie--see De`gataga.
Stekoa--see Stika`yi.
ste`tsi--"your daughter"; literally, "your offspring"; agwe`tsi,
"my offspring"; uwe`tsi, "his offspring"; to distinguish sex it is
necessary to add asga`ya, "man" or age`hya, "woman."
Stika`yi (variously spelled Stecoe, Steecoy, Stekoah, Stickoey,
etc.)--the name of several former Cherokee settlements: 1. Sticoa
creek, near Clayton, Babun county, Ga.; 2. on Tuckasegee river at
the old Thomas homestead just above the present Whittier, in Swain
county, N. C.; 3. on Stekoa creek of Little Tennessee river, a few
miles below the junction of Nantahala, in Graham county, N. C.
Stringfield--see Tlage`si.
stugi`sti, stui`ski--a key.
Suck, The--see Un`tiguhi`.
Sugartown--see Kulse`tsi`yi.
su`nawa`--see tla`nuwa.
sunestla`ta--"split noses"; see tsunu liyu` sunestla`ta.
sungi--mink; also onion; the name seems to refer to a smell; the
various minks are called generically, gaw sun`gi.
Suki`yi--another form of Sakwi`yi, q. v.
su`li`--buzzard; the Creek name is the same.
Sun Land--see Nunda`yi.
su`sa`-sai`--an unmeaning song refrain.
su`talidihi`--see nun`da`.
Suwa`li-nunna`hi (abbreviated Suwa`li-nunna`hi)--"Suwali train," the
proper name for the gap at the head of Swannanoa (from Suwa`li-Nun`na`)
river east of Asheville, in Buncombe county, N. C.
Suwa`ni--a former Cherokee settlement on Chattahoochee river, about
the present Suwanee, in Gwinnett county, Ga. The name has no meaning
in the Cherokee language and is said to be of Creek origin.
Suye`ta--"the Chosen One," from asuye`ta, "he is chosen," gasu`yeu,
"I am choosing"; the same form, suye`ta, could also mean mixed, from
gasu`yahu, "I am mixing it." A masculine name at present borne by a
prominent ex-chief and informant upon the East Cherokee reservation.
Swannanoa--see Wuwa`li-nunna`hi.
Swim Bald--see Sehwate`yi.
Swimmer--see Ayun`ini.
tadeya`statakuhi`--"we shall see each other."
Tae-keo-ge--see Ta ski`gi.
ta`gu--the June-bug (Allorhina nitida), also called tuya-diskalaw
tsiski, "one who keeps fire under the beans."
Ta`gwa--see Ani`ta`gwa.
Ta`gwadihi` (abbreviated Ta`gwadi`)--"Catawba-killer," from Ata`gwa or
Ta`gwa, "Cattawba Indian," and dihihi`, "he kills them" (habitually),
from tsi`ihu`. "I kill." An old masculine name, still in use upon
the East Cherokee reservation. It was the proper name of the chief
known to the whites about 1790 as "The Glass," from a confusion of
this name with adake`ti, glass, or mirror.
Tagwa`hi--"Catawba place," from Ata`gwa or Ta`gwa, Catawba Indian, and
hi, locative. A name occurring in several places in the old Cherokee
country. A settlement of this name, known to the whites as Toccoa,
was upon Toccoa creek, east of Clarksville, in Habersham county, Ga.;
another was upon Toccoa or Ocoee river, about the present Toccoa,
in Fannin county, Ga.; a third may have been on Persimmon creek,
which is known to the Cherokee as Tagwa`hi, and enters Hiwassee river
some distance below Murphy, in Cherokee county, N. C.
Tahkeyostee--see Unta`kiyasti`yi.
Tahlequah--see Talikwa`.
Tahchee--see Talikwa`.
Takatoka--see De`gata`ga.
ta`ladu` (abbreviated taldu`)--twelve, from ta`li, two. Cf. tala`tu,
cricket.
Ta`lasi`--a former Cherokee settlement on Little Tennessee river about
Talassee ford, in Blount county, Tenn. The name has lost its meaning.
Talassee--see Ta`lasi`.
tala`tu--cricket; sometimes also called dita`staye`ski (q. v.),
"the barber." Cf. ta`ladu`, twelve.
Tale`danigi`ski (Utale`danigi`si in a dialectic form)--variously
rendered by the whites "Hemp-carrier," "Nettle-carrier" or
"flax-toter," from tale`ta or utale`ta, flax (Linum) or richweed (Pilea
pumila), and danigi`ski, "he carries them" (habitually). A former
prominent chief on Valley river, in Cherokee county, North Carolina.
Talihina--given as the name of the Cherokee wife of Samuel Houston;
the form cannot be identified.
Talikwa` (commonly written Tellico, Teliquo or, in the Indian
Territory, Tahlequah)--the name of several Cherokee settlements at
different periods, viz.: 1. Great Tellico, at Tellico Plains, on
Tellico river, in Monroe county, Tenn.; 2. Little Tellico, on Tellico
creek of Little Tennessee river, about ten miles below Franklin,
Macon county, N. C. 3. a town on Valley river, about five miles above
Murphy, in Cherokee county, N. C.; 4. Tahlequah, established as the
capital of the Cherokee Nation, Ind. Ter., in 1839. The meaning of
the name is lost.
Tali`wa--the site of a traditional battle between the Cherokee and
Creeks about 1755, on Mountain (?) creek of Etowah river in upper
Georgia. Probably not a Cherokee but a Creek name from the Creek
ta`lua or ita`lua, town.
Talking-rock--see Nunyu-gunwani`ski.
Tallulah--see Talulu`.
Tal-tsu`ska`--"Two-heads," from ta`li, two, and tsu`ska`, plural of
uska`, (his) head. A Cherokee chief about the year 1800, known to
the whites as Doublehead.
taluli--pregnant; whence aluli`, (she is) "a mother," said of a woman.
Talulu` (commonly Tallulah, and appearing in old documents, from the
Lower dialect, as Taruraw, Toruro, Turoree, etc.)--a name occurring in
two or more places in the old Cherokee country, viz.: 1. An ancient
settlement on the upper part of Tallulah river, in Rabun county,
Georgia; 2. a town on Tallulah creek of Cheowa river, in Graham county,
N. C. The word is of uncertain etymology. The dulu`si frog is said
to cry talulu`. The noted falls upon Tallulah river are known to the
Cherokee as Ugun`yi, q. v.
Taluntiski--see Ata`lunti`ski.
Tama`li--a name, commonly written Tomotley or Tomatola, occurring in
at least two places in the old Cherokee country, viz.: 1. On Valley
river, a few miles above Murphy, about the present Tomatola, in
Cherokee county, N. C. 2. on Little Tennessee river, about Tomotley
ford, a few miles above Tellico river, in Monroe county, Tenn. The
name cannot be translated, and may be of Creek origin, as that tribe
had a town of the same name upon the lower Chattahoochee river.
Tanasi`--a name which cannot be analyzed, commonly spelled Tennessee,
occurring in several places in the old Cherokee country, viz.: 1. On
Little Tennessee river about half-way between Citico and Toco creeks,
in Monroe county, Tenn. 2. "Old Tennessee town," on Hiwassee river, a
short distance above the junction of Ocoee, in Polk county, Tenn. 3. On
Tennessee creek, a head-stream of Tuckasegee river, in Jackson county,
N. C. Tanasqui, visited by Pardo in 1567, may have been another place
of the same name.
Tanasqui--see Tanasi`.
Ta`ski`gi (abbreviated from Ta`skigi`yi or Da`skigi`yi, the locative
yi being commonly omitted)--a name variously written Tae-keo-ge
(misprint), Tasquiqui, Teeskege, Tuscagee, Tuskegee, etc., derived from
that of a foreign tribe incorporated with the Cherokee, and occurring
as a local name both in the Cherokee and in the Creek country. 1. The
principal settlement of this name was on Little Tennessee river, just
above the junction of Tellico, in Monroe county, Tenn.; 2. another
was on the north bank of Tennessee river, just below Chattanooga,
Tennessee; 3. another may have been on Tuskegee creek of Little
Tennessee river, near Robbinsville, Graham county, N. C.
Tasquiqui--see Ta`ski`gi.
Tassel, Old--see Utsi`dsata`.
Tatsi`--"Dutch," also written Tahchee, a western Cherokee chief
about 1830.
Tatsu`hwa--the redbird.
tawa`li--punk.
Tawa`li-ukwanun`ti--"Punk-plugged-in," from tawa`li, punk; the Cherokee
name of a traditional Shawano chief.
tawi`ska, tawi`skage--smooth, slick.
Tawi`skala--"Flint"; a Cherokee supernatural, the personification
of the rock flint; tawi`skalun`ti, tawi`skala, flint, from tawi`ska,
smooth, slick; cf. Iroquois Tawiskaron.
Tayunksi--a traditional western tribe; the name cannot be analyzed.
Tellico--see Talikwa`.
telun`lati--the summer grape (Vitis aestivalis).
Tenaswattee--see Ku`saweti`yi.
Terrapin--see Tuksi`.
tewa--a flying squirrel; sala`li, gray squirrel; kiyu ga, ground
squirrel.
Thomas, W. H.--see Wil-usdi`.
Tikwali`tsi--a name occurring in several places in the old Cherokee
country, viz.: 1. Tuckalegee creek, a tributary of War-Woman creek,
east of Clayton, in Rabun county, Ga.; 2. the Tikiwali`tsi of the
story, an important town on Tuckasegee river at the present Bryson
City, in Swain county, N. C. 3. Tuckalechee cove, on Little river,
in Blount county, Tenn., which probably preserves the aboriginal
local name. The name appears in old documents as Tuckarechee (Lower
dialect) and Tuckalegee, and must not be confounded with Tsiksi`tsi
or Tuckasegee. It cannot be translated.
Timossy--see Tomassee.
Tlage`si--"Field"; the Cherokee name for Lieutenant-Colonel
W. W. Stringfield of Waynesville, N. C., one of the officers of
the Cherokee contingent in the Thomas Legion. It is an abbreviated
rendering of his proper name.
tlage`situn`--a song form for tlage`sia-stun`i, "on the edge of the
field," from a stream.
tla`meha--bat (dialectic forms, tsa`meha, tsa`weha).
tlanu`si`--leech (dialectic form, tsanu`si`).
Tlanusi`yi (abbreviated Tlanusi`)--"Leech place," former important
settlement at the junction of Hiwassee and Valley river, the present
site of Murphy, in Cherokee county, N. C.; also a point on Nottely
river, a few miles distant, in the same county. The name appears also
as Clennuse, Klausuna, Quoneashee, etc.
tla`nuwa (dialetic forms, tsa`nuwa`, su`nawa`, "sinnawah")--a mythic
great hawk.
tla`nuwa`usdi--"little tla`nuwa`"; probably the goshawk (Astur
atricapillus).
Tla`nuwa`atsi Yelun`isun`yi--"where the Tla`nuwa cut it up,"
from tla`nuwa`, q. v., and tsiyelun`isku`, an archaic form for
tsigunilun`isku`, "I am cutting it up." A place on Little Tennessee
river, nearly opposite the entrance of Citico creek, in Blount
county, Tenn.
Tla`nuwa`i--"Tla`nuwa place," a cave on the north side of Tennessee
river, a short distance below the entrance of Citico creek, in Blount
county, Tenn.
tlayku`--jay (dialectic form, tsayku`).
tlunti`sti--the pheasant (Bonasa umbella), called locally grouse
or partridge.
tluntu`tsi--panther (dialectic form, tsuntu`ski).
tlutlu`--the martin bird (dialectic form, tsutsu`).
Tocax--a place, apparently in the Cherokee country, visited by Pardo
in 1567. It may possibly have a connection with Toxaway (see Duksa`i)
or Toccoa (see Tagwa`hi).
Toccoa--see Tagwa`hi.
Toco--see Dakwa`i.
Tollunteeskee--see Ata`lunti`ski.
Tomassee (also written Timossy and Tymahse)--the name of two or more
former Cherokee settlements, viz.: 1. On Tomassee creek of Keowee
river, in Oconee county, S. C.; 2. On Little Tennessee river, near
the entrance of Burningtown creek, in Macon county, N. C. The correct
form and interpretation are unknown.
Tomatola, Tomotley--see Tama`li.
Tooantuh--see Du`stu`.
Toogelah--see Dugilu`yi.
Toqua--see Dakwa`i.
Toxaway--see Dukas`i.
Track Rock gap--see Datsu`nalasgun`yi.
Tsaga`si--a Cherokee sprite.
tsa`gi--upstream, up the road; the converse of ge`i.
Tsaiyi`--see Untsaiyi`.
Tsa`ladihi`--Chief N. J. Smith of the East Cherokee. The name might
be rendered "Charley-killer," from Tsali, "Charley," and dihi`,
"killer" (in composition), but is really a Cherokee equivalent for
Jarrett (Tsaladi`), his middle name, by which he was frequently
addressed. Cf. Tagwadihi.
tsal-agayun`li--"old tobacco," from tsalu, tobacco, and agayun`li or
agayun`lige, old, ancient; the Nicotiana rustica or wild tobacco.
Tsa`lagi` (Tsa`ragi` in Lower dialect)--the correct form of Cherokee.
Tsa`li--Charley; a Cherokee shot for resisting the troops at the time
of Removal.
tsaliyu`sti--"tobacco-like," from tsalu, tobacco, and iyu`sti, like;
a generic name for the cardinal-flower, mullein and related species.
tsalu or tsalun (in the Lower dialect, tsaru)--tobacco; by comparison
with kindred forms the other Iroquoian dialects the meaning "fire to
hold in the mouth" seems to be indicated. Lanman spells it tso-lungh.
tsameha--see tla`meha.
tsa`nadiska`--for tsandiskai`, "they say."
tsana`seha`i`--"so they say," "they say about him."
tsane`ni--the scorpion lizard; also called gi`ga-danegi`ski, q. v.
Tsani--John.
Tsantawu`--a masculine name which cannot be analyzed.
Tsan-uga`sita--"Sour John"; the Cherokee name for General John Sevier,
and also the boy name of the Chief John Ross, afterward known as
Gu`wisguwi`, q. v. Sikwi`a, a Cherokee attempt at "Sevier," is a
masculine name upon the East Cherokee reservation.
tsanu`si`--see tlanu`si`.
tsa`nuwa`--see tla`nuwa`.
Tsa`ragi`--Cherokee.
tsaru--see tsalu.
Tsasta`wi--a noted hunter formerly living upon Nantahala river,
in Macon county, North Carolina; the meaning of the name is doubtful.
Tsatanu`gi (commonly spelled Chattanooga)--the Cherokee name for
some point upon the creek entering Tennessee river at the city of
Chattanooga, in Hamilton county, Tennessee. It has no meaning in the
Cherokee language and appears to be of foreign origin. The ancient
name for the site of the present city is Atla`nuwa, q. v. Before the
establishment of the town the place was known to the whites as Ross'
landing, from a store kept there by Lewis Ross, brother of the chief,
John Ross.
Tsatu`gi (commonly written Chattooga or Chatuga)--a name occurring
in two or three places in the old Cherokee country, but apparently of
foreign origin. Possible Cherokee derivations are from words signifying
respectively "he drank by sips," from gatu`gia`, "I sip," or "he has
crossed the stream and come out upon the other side," from gatu`gi,
"I have crossed," etc. An ancient settlement of this name was on
Chattooga river, a headstream of Savannah river, on the boundary
between South Carolina and Georgia; another appears to have been on
upper Tellico river, in Monroe county, Tennessee; another may have been
on Chattooga river, a tributary of the Coosa, in northwestern Georgia.
Tsa`wa Gakski--Joe Smoker, from Tsawa, "Joe," and gakski, "smoker,"
from ga`gisku, "I am smoking." The Cherokee name for Chief Joel
B. Mayes, of the Cherokee Nation west.
Tsawa`si--a Cherokee sprite.
tsa`weha--see tla`meha.
tsay ku`--see tlay ku`.
Tsek`sini`--a Cherokee form for the name of General Andrew Jackson.
Tsesa`ni--Jessan, probably a derivative from Jesse; a masculine name
upon the East Cherokee reservation.
Tse`si-Ska`tsi--"Scotch Jesse"; Jesse Reid, present chief of the East
Cherokee, so-called because of mixed Scotch ancestry.
tsetsani`li--"thy two elder brothers" (male speaking); "my elder
brother" (male speaking), ungini`li.
Tsgagun`yi--"Insect place," from tsgaya, insect, and yi, locative. A
cave in the ridge eastward from Franklin, in Macon county, N. C.
tsgaya--insect, worm, etc.
Tsikama`gi--a name, commonly spelled Chickamauga, occurring in
at least two places in the old Cherokee country, which has lost
any meaning in Cherokee and appears to be of foreign origin. It
is applied to a small creek at the head of Chattahoochee river,
in White county, Ga., and also to the district about the southern
(not the northern) Chickamauga creek, coming into Tennessee river,
a few miles above Chattanooga, in Hamilton county, Tenn. In 1777,
the more hostile portion of the Cherokee withdrew from the rest of
the tribe, and established here a large settlement, from which they
removed about five years later to settle lower down the Tennessee,
in what were known as the Chickamauga towns or Five Lower towns.
tsiki`--a word which renders emphatic that which it follows: as a`stu,
"very good," astu` tsiki, "best of all."
tsikiki`--the katydid; the name is an onomatope.
tsi`kilili`--the Carolina chickadee (Parus carolinensis); the name
is an onomatope.
Tsiksi`tsi (Tuksi`tsi is dialectic form; commonly written
Tuckasegee)--1. a former Cherokee settlement about the junction of the
two forks of Tuckasegee, above Webster, in Jackson county, N. C. (not
to be confounded with Tikwali`tsi, q. v.). 2. A former settlement
on a branch of Brasstown creek of Hiwassee river, in Towns county,
Ga. The word has lost its meaning.
Tsi`nawi--a Cherokee wheelwright, perhaps the first in the Nation to
make a spinning-wheel and loom. The name cannot be analyzed.
tsine`u--"I am picking it (something long) up"; in the Lower and
Middle dialects, tsinigi`u.
tsinigi`u--see tsine`u.
tsiska`gili--the large red crawfish; the ordinary crawfish is called
tsistu`na.
tsi`skwa--bird.
tsiskwa`gwa--robin, from tsi`skwa, bird.
Tsiskwa`hi--"Bird place," from tsi`skwa, bird, and hi,
locative. Birdtown settlement on the East Cherokee reservation,
in Swain county, N. C.
tsiskwa`ya--sparrow, literally "principal bird" (i. e., most widely
distributed), from tsi`skwa, bird, and ya, a suffix denoting principal
or real.
Tsiskwunsdi`adsisti`yi--"where they killed Little-bird," from
Tsiskwunsdi, "little birds" (plural form.) A place near the head of
West Buffalo creek, southeast of Robbinsville, in Graham county, N. C.
Tsilalu`hi--"Sweet-gum place," from tsila`lu`, sweet gum (Liquidambar)
and hi, locative. A former settlement on a small branch of Brasstown
creek of Hiwassee river, just within the line of Towns county,
Ga. The name is incorrectly rendered Gum-log (creek).
Tsistetsi`yi--"Mouse place," from tsistetsi, mouse, and yi, locative. A
former settlement on South Mouse creek, of Hiwassee river, in Bradley
county, Tenn. The present town of Cleveland, upon the same creek,
is known to the Cherokee under the same name.
tsist-imo `gosto--"rabbit foods" (plural), from tsi`stu, rabbit,
and uni`gisti, plural of agi`sti, food, from tsiyi`giu "I am eating"
(soft food). The wild rose.
tsistu--rabbit.
tsistu`na--crawfish; the large-horned beetle is also so called. The
large red crawfish is called tsiska`gili.
Tsistu`yi--"Rabbit place," from tsistu, rabbit, and yi,
locative. 1. Gregory bald, high peak of the Great Smoky range,
eastward from Little Tennessee river, on the boundary between Swain
county, N. C., and Blount county, Tenn. 2. A former settlement on
the north bank of Hiwassee river at the entrance of Chestua creek,
in Polk county, Tenn, The name of Choastea creek of Tugaloo river, in
Oconee county, S. C., is probably also a corruption from the same word.
Tsiya`hi--"Otter place," from tsiyu, otter, and yi, locative; variously
spelled Cheowa, Cheeowhee, Chewohe, Chewe, etc. 1. A former settlement
on a branch of Keowee river, near the present Cheohee, Oconee county,
S. C. 2. A former and still existing Cherokee settlement on Cheowa
river, about Robbinsville, in Graham county, N. C. 3. A former
settlement in Cades Cove, on Cove creek, in Blount county, Tenn.
Tsi`yi-gunsi`ni--"He is dragging a canoe," from tsi`yu, canoe
(cf. tsi`yu) otter, and gunsi`ni, "he is dragging it." "Dragging
Canoe," a prominent leader of the hostile Cherokee in the
Revolution. The name appears in documents as Cheucunsene and Kunnesee.
Tskil-e`gwa--"Big-witch," from atsikili`, or tskilu`, witch, owl, and
e`gwa, big; an old man of the East Cherokee, who died in 1896. Although
translated Big-witch by the whites, the name is understood by the
Indians to mean Big-owl, having been originally applied to a white
man living on the same clearing, and noted for his large staring eyes.
tskili` (contracted from atskili`)--1. witch; 2. the dusky-horned owl
(Bubo virginianus saturatus).
tskwa`yi--the great white heron or American egret. (Herodias egretta).
Tsolungh--see tsalu.
Tsuda`ye lun`yi--"Isolated place"; an isolated peak near the head of
Cheowa river, northeast of Robbinsville, in Graham county, N. C. The
root of the word signifies detached, or isolated, whence Uda`ye lun`yi,
the Cherokee outlet, in Ind. Ter.
Tsunda`talesun`yi--"where pieces fall off," i. e., where the banks are
caving in; from adatale`i, "it is falling off," ts, distance prefix,
"there," and yi, locative. The Cherokee name for the present site
of Memphis, Tenn., overlooking the Mississippi and formerly known as
the Chickasaw bluff.
Tsu`dinunti`yi--"Throwing-down place"; a former settlement on lower
Nantahala river, in Macon county, N. C.
Tsugidu`li ulsgi`sti (from tsugidu`li, plural of ugiduli, one of
the long wing or tail feathers of a bird, and ulsgi`sti or ulsgi`ta,
a dance)--the feather or eagle dance.
Tsukilunnun`yi--"Where he alighted"; two bald spots on a mountain at
the head of a Little Snowbird creek, near Robbinsville, Graham county,
N. C.
tsungili`si--plural of ungili`si, q. v.
tsungini`si--plural of ungini`si, q. v.
tsunkina`tli--"my younger brothers" (male speaking).
tsunkita`--"my younger brothers" (female speaking).
tsula--fox; cf. tsulu, kingfisher and tlutlu` or tsulsu`, martin. The
black fox is ina`li. The Creek word for fox is chula.
tsula`ski--alligator; the name is of uncertain etymology.
Tsula`sinun`yi--"Footprint place." A place on Tuckasee river, about
a mile above Deep creek, in Swain county, N. C.
Tsula`wi--see Tsulunwe`i.
Tsule`hisanun`hi--"Resurrected One," from di`gwale`hisanun`hi, "I
was resurrected." literally, "I was down and have risen." Tsa`lagi`,
Tsule`hisanunhi, the Cherokee title of the newspaper known to the
whites as the Cherokee Phoenix. The Cherokee title was devised by
Worcester and Boudinot as suggesting the idea of the phoenix of
classic fable. The Indian name of the recent "Cherokee Advocate"
is Tsa`lagi Asdeli`ski.
Tsul kalu`--"Slanting-eyes," literally "he has them slanting" (or
leaning up against something); the prefix ts makes it a plural form,
and the name is understood to refer to the eyes, although the word
eye (akta`, plural dikta`) is not a part of it. Cf. Ata`-gulkalu. A
mythic giant and ruler of the game. The name has been corrupted to
Jutaculla and Tuli-cula. Jutaculla rock and Jutaculla old fields
about the head of Tuckasegee river, in Jackson, North Carolina,
take their name from him.
Tsulkalu` tsunegun`yi--see Tsunegun`yi.
tsulie`na--the nuthatch (Sitta carolinensis); the word signifies
literally "deaf" (a plural form referring to the ear, gule`) although
no reason is given for such a name.
tsulu--kingfisher. Cf. tsula.
Tsulunwe`i--(abbreviated Tsulun`we or Tsula`wi, possibly connected
with tsulu, kingfisher)--Chilhowee creek, a north tributary of Little
Tennessee river, in Blount county, Tennessee.
Tsundanilti`yi--"where they demanded the debt from him"; a place
on Little Santeetal river, west of Robbinsville, in Graham county,
North Carolina. The creek also is commonly known by the same name.
Tsundige`wi--"Closed anuses," literally "they have them closed,"
understood to refer to the anus; from dige`wi, plural of ge`wi,
closed, stopped up, blind; cf. Tsulkalu`; also Gulisge`wi, "Blind,
or closed, ears," an old personal name.
Tsun`digwun`tski (contracted from tsun`digwuntsugi, "they have them
forked," referring to the peculiar forked tail; cf. Tsulkalu`)--a
migratory bird which once appeared for a short time upon the East
Cherokee reservation, apparently, from the description, the scissortail
or swallow-tailed fly-catcher (Milvulus forficatus).
Tsunegun`yi (sometimes called Tsulkalu` Tsunegun`yi)--Tennessee Bald,
at the extreme head of Tuckasegee river, on the east line of Jackson
county, North Carolina. The name seems to mean "there where it is
white," from ts, a prefix indicating distance, une`ga, white, and
yi, locative.
Tsunil` kalu--the plural form for Tsul kalu, q. v., a traditional
giant tribe in the west.
tsunis`tsahi--"(those) having topnots or crests," from ustsahu`,
"having a topknot," ustsahi`, "he has a topknot" (habitually).
Tsuniya`tiga--"Naked People"; literally "They are naked there," from
uya`tiga, naked (singular), with the prefix ts, indicating distance. A
traditional western tribe.
tsun-ka`wi-ye`, tsun-sikwa-ya`, tsun-tsu`la-ya`, tsun-wa`ya-ya`--"I
am (tsun or tsi, verbal prefix) a real (ya, ye, noun suffix) deer"
(kawi`, archaic for a wi`); opossum, si`kwa; fox, tsula; wolf,
waya. Archaic song forms.
tsunsdi`--contracted from tsunsdi`ga, the plural of usdi`ga or usdi`,
small.
Tsunu`lahun`ski--"He tries, but fails" (habitually), from
detsinu`lahun`ski (q. v.), "I tried, but failed." A former noted chief
among the East Cherokee, commonly known to the whites as Junaluska. In
early life he was called Gulkala`ski, a name which denotes something
habitually falling from a leaning position (cf. Ata-gul kalu` and
Tsul kalu`).
tsunu` liyu`sunestla`ta--"they have split noses," (from agwaliyu`,
"I have it," and unestlau`, "it is cracked" (as a crack made by the
sun's heat in a log or in the earth)); the initial s makes it refer
to the nose, kayasa`.
Tsusgina`i--"the Ghost country," from asgi`na, "ghost," i, locative,
and ts, a prefix denoting distance. The land of the dead; it is
situated in Usunhi`yi, the Twilight land, in the west.
Tsuta`tsinasun`yi--"Eddy place." A place on Cheowa river at the mouth
of Cochran creek, in Graham county, N. C.
tsutsu`--see tlutlu`.
tsuntu`tsi--see tluntu`tsi.
tsuwa`--the mud-puppy or water dog (Menopoma or Protonopsis).
Tsuwa`tel`da--a contraction of tsuwa`teldun`yi; the name has lost its
meaning. Pilot Knob, north from Brevard, in Transylvania county, N. C.
Tsuwa`-uniytsun`yi--"where the water-dog laughed." from tsuwa`, q. v.,
"water-dog," uniye`tsu, "they laughed" (agiyet`sku, "I am laughing")
and yi, locative; Tusquittee Bald, near Hayesville, in Clay county,
N. C.
Tsuwe`nahi--A traditional hunter, in communication with the invisible
people. The name seems to mean "He has them in abundance," an
irregular or archaic form for Uwe`nai, "he has abundance," "he is
rich," from agwe`nai`, "I am rich." As a masculine name it is used
as the equivalent of Richard.
Tuckalechee--see Tikwah`tsi.
Tuckasegee--see Tsiksi`tsi.
Tugaloo--see Dugilu`yi.
tugalu`--the cry of the dagulku, goose.
tugalu`na--a variety of small fish, about four inches long, frequenting
the larger streams (from galu`na, a gourd, on account of its long
nose).
tuksi`--the terrapin or land tortoise; also the name of a Cherokee
chief about the close of the Revolution. Saligu`gi, common turtle;
soft-shell turtle, U`lana`wa.
Tuksi`tsi--see Tsiksi`tsi.
Tuli-cula--see Tsui`kalu`.
tulsku`wa--"he snaps with his head," from uska`, head; the snapping
beetle.
Tuna`i--a traditional warrior and medicine man of old Itsa`ti; the
name cannot be analyzed.
Turkeytown--see Gun-di`gaduhun`yi.
Turniptown--see U`lunyi.
Tuskegee--see Ta`ski`gi.
Tusquittee Bald--see Tsuwa`-uniyetsun`yi.
Tusquittee creek--see Daskwitun`yi.
tu`sti--for tusti`ga, a small bowl; larger jars are called diwa`li
and unti`ya.
tuti--snowbird.
Tuti`yi--"Snowbird place," from tu`ti, snowbird, and yi,
locative. Little Snow-bird creek of Cheowa river, in Graham county,
N. C.
tu`tsahyesi`--"he will marry you."
tu`ya--bean.
tu`ya-diskalaw`sti`ski--see ti`gu.
tu`yahusi`--"she will die."
Tymahse--see Tomassee.
Uchee--see Ani`-Yu`tsi.
uda`hale`yi--"on the sunny side."
uda`i--the baneberry or cohosh vine (Actaea?). The name signifies
that the plant has something long hanging from it.
uda`li--"(it is) married"; the mistletoe, so-called on account of
its parasitic habit.
U`dawagun`ta--"Bald." A bald mountain of the Great Smoky range,
in Yancy county, N. C., not far from Mount Mitchell.
Udsi`skala--a masculine name.
uga`sita--sour.
u`giska`--"he is swallowing it"; from tsikiu`, "I am eating."
u`guku`--the hooting or barred owl.
ugunste`li (ugunste`lu in dialect form)--the horny-head fish.
Ugun`yi--Tallulah falls, on the river of that name, northeast from
Clarksville, in Habersham county, Ga. The meaning of the name is lost.
Uilata--see U`tlun`ta.
uk-ku`suntsuteti`--"it will twist up one's arm."
Uk-ku`suntsuti`--"Bent-bow-shape"; a comic masculine name.
Uk-kunagi`sti--"it will draw down one's eye."
Uk-kwunagi`ta--"eye-drawn-down"; a comic masculine name.
uksu`hi--the mountain blacksnake or black racer (coluber obsoletus);
the name seems to refer to some pecularity of the eye, akta`, uksuhha`,
"he has something lodged in his eye."
Ukte`na--"Keen-eyed (?)" from akta`, eye, akta`ti, to examine
closely. A mythic great-horned serpent, with a talismanic diadem.
Ukte`na-tsuganun`yi--"where the Uktena got fastened." A spot on
Tuckasegee river, about two miles above Bryson City, in Swain county,
N. C.
Ukwu`nu (or Ukwu`ni)--a former Cherokee settlement, commonly known
to the whites as Oconee, on Seneca creek, near the present Walhalla,
in Oconee county, S. C.
Ula`gu`--the mythical original of the yellow-jacket tribe. The word
signifies "leader," "boss," or "principal one," and is applied to the
first yellow-jacket (d`ska`i) seen in the spring, to a queen bee and
to the leader of a working squad.
u`lana`wa--the soft-shell turtle; see also saligu`gi and tuksi`.
ulasu`la--moccasin, shoe.
ule`--and; ule`-nu, and also.
ulskwulte`gi--a "pound mill," a self-acting water-mill used in the
Cherokee mountains. The name signifies that "it butts with its head"
(Uska`, head), in allusion to the way in which the pestles work in
the mortar. The generic word for mill is dist`sti.
ulstitlu`--literally "it is on his head." The diamond crest on the
head of the mythic Uktena serpent. When detached it becomes Ulunsu`ti.
Ultiwa`i--a former Cherokee settlement above the present Ooltewah,
on the creek of the same name, in James county, Tenn.
ulunni`ta--domesticated, tame; may be used for persons as well as
animals, but not for plants; for cultivated or domesticated plants
the adjective is gunutlun`i or gunusun`i.
Ulunsu`ti--"Transparent"; the great talismanic crystal of the Cherokee.
ulun`ta--"it has climbed," from tsilahi`, "I am climbing"; the poison
oak (Rhus radicans).
U`lun`yi--"Tuber place," from U`li`, a variety of edible tuber, and yi,
locative. A former settlement upon Turniptown, (for U`lun`yi) creek,
above Ellijay, in Gilmer county, Ga.
Unacala--see Uni`gadihi`.
U`nadanti`yi--"Place where they conjured," the name of a gap about
three miles east of Webster, in Jackson county, N. C., and now
transferred to the town itself.
unade`na--woolly, downy, (in speaking of animals); uwa`nu, wool,
down, fine fur (detached from the animal).
u`nahu`--see unahwi`.
u`nahi`--heart; in Middle and Lower dialects, unahu`.
Unaka--see une`ga and Unicoi.
unatlunwe`hitu--"it has spirals"; a plant (unidentified) used in
conjuration.
une`ga--white.
une`guhi--"he is (was) mischievous or bad"; tsune`guhi`yu, "you are
very mischievous" (said to a child).
une`gutsatu`--"(he is) mischievous"; a`gine`gutsatu`, "I am
mischievous."
Une`lanun`hi--"The Apportioner"; "I am apportioning," gane`lasku`;
"I apportion" (habitually), gane`laski. In the sacred formulas a
title of the Sun God; in the Bible the name of God.
une`stalun--ice.
Unicoi--the map name of the Unicoi turnpike, of a gap on the watershed
between Chattahoochee and Hiwassee river, in Georgia, and of a county
in Tennessee. Probably a corruption of une`ga, white, whence comes
also Unaka, the present map name of a part of the Great Smoky range.
uni`gisti--foods; singular, agi`sti.
Uniga`yata`ti`yi--"where they made a fish trap," from uga`yatun`i,
fish trap, and yi, locative; a place on Tuckasegee river, at the
mouth of Deep creek, near Bryson City, in Swain county, N. C.
Uni`haluna--see Ahalu`na.
Unika`wa--the "Town-house dance," so-called because danced inside
the town-house.
Une`ga-dihi`--"White-man-killer"; from une`ga, "white," for
yun`wune`ga, "white person," and dihi`, a noun suffix denoting
"killer," "he kills them" (habitually). A Cherokee chief, whose name
appears on the documents about 1790.
ungida`--"thy two elder brothers" (male speaking).
ungini`li--"my elder brother."
ungini`si (plural, tsungini`si)--"my daughter's child."
u`niskwetu`gi--"they wear a hat," ulskwe`tawa`, hat from uska`,
head. The May apple (Podophyllum).
unistilun`isti--"they stick on along their whole length"; the generic
name for "stickers" and burrs, including the Spanish needle, cockle
burr, jimson weed, etc.
uni`tsi--her mother; agitsi`, my mother.
Uniya`hitun`yi--"where they shot it," from tsiya`ihu`. "I shot,"
and yi, locative. A place on Tuckasegee river a short distance above
Bryson City, in Swain county, N. C.
Unli`ta--"(He is) long-winded," an archaic form for the regular word,
gunli`ta; an old masculine name. A chief about the year 1790, known
to the whites as "The Breath."
Untoola--see Dihiyun`dula`.
Unta`kiyasti`yi--"Where they race," from takiya`ta, a race, and yi,
locative; locally corrupted to Tahkeyostee. The district on the French
Broad river, around Asheville, in Buncombe county, N. C. The town
itself is known to the Cherokee as Kasdu`yi, "Ashes place," (from
kasdu, ashes, and yi, locative), which is intended as a translation
of its proper name.
Un`tiguhi`--"Pot in water," from or unti`ya, pot, and guli`, "it is
in the water" (or other liquid, habitually). The Suck, a dangerous
rapid in Tennessee river, at the entrance of Suck creek, about eight
miles below Chattanooga, Tenn.
Untlasgasti`yi--"Where they scratched"; a place at the head of Hyatt's
creek of Valley river, in Cherokee county, N. C.
Untoola--see Dihyun`dula`.
Untsaili` (also Etsaiyi`, or Tsaiyi`, the first syllable being almost
silent)--"Brass."
unwada`li--store-house, provision house.
Unwada-tsu`gilasun`--"Where the storehouse (unwada`li) was taken
off." Either Black Rock or Jones' Knob, northeast of Webster, on the
east line of Jackson county, N. C.
unun`ti--milk.
usdi`ga (abbreviated usdi`)--small; plural tsunsdi`ga, tsundi`.
usga`se`ti`yu--very dangerous, very terrible; intensive of usga`se`ti.
Uskwale`na--"Big-Head," from uska`, head; a masculine name, perhaps
the original of the "Bull-head," given by Haywood as the name of a
former noted Cherokee warrior.
Uskwa`li-gu`ta--"His stomach hangs down," from uskwa`li, his stomach,
and gu`ta, "it hangs down." A prominent chief of the Revolutionary
period, known to the whites as Hanging-maw.
U`stana`li (from U`stanala`hi or uni`stana`la (a plural form), denoting
a natural barrier of rocks (plural) across a stream)--a name occurring
in several places in the old Cherokee country, and variously spelled
Eastinaulee, Eastinora, Estanaula, Eustenaree, Istanare, Oostanaula,
Oostinawley, Ustenary, etc.
u`stuti--see utsu`gi.
Ustu`tli--a traditional dangerous serpent. The name signifies having
something on the calf of the leg or on the heel, from ustutun`i
"(his) calf of the leg (attached)." It is applied also to the Southern
hoop-snake.
Usunhi`yi--the "Darkening land," "where it is always getting dark,"
as at twilight. The name used for the west in the myths and the sacred
formulas; the common word is wude`ligun`yi, "there where it (the sun)
goes down."
u`tanu--great, fully developed. Cf. e`gwa.
utawa`hilu--"hand breadth," from uwa`yi, hand. A figurative term used
in the myths and sacred formulas.
U`tawagun`ta--"Bald place." A high bald peak in the Great Smoky range
on the Tenn.-N. C. line, northeast from Big Pigeon river.
U`tlun`ta--"He (or she) has it sharp," i. e., has some sharp part
or organ; it might be used of a tooth, a finger-nail, or some other
attached part of the body.
U`tluntun`yi--"U`tlun`ta place"; see U`tlun`ta. A place on Little
Tennessee river, nearly off Citico creek, in Blount county, Tenn.
U`tsala--"Lichen"; another form of utsale`ta. A Cherokee chief of
Removal period in 1838.
utsale`ta--lichen, literally "pot scrapings," from a fancied
resemblance.
utsa`nati`--rattlesnake; the name is of doubtful etymology, but is
said to refer to the rattle.
Utsa`nati`yi--"Rattlesnake place." Rattlesnake springs, about two
miles south from Charlestown, Bradley county, Tenn.
utset`sti--"he grins" (habitually). See si`kwa utset`sti.
utsi`--her (his) mother; etsi`, agitsi`, my mother.
Utsi`dsata`--"Corn-tassel," "Thistle-head," etc. It is used as a
masculine name, and was probably the Cherokee name of the chief of
Revolutionary times, known as "Old Tassel."
utsu`gi--the tufted titmouse (Parus bicolor); also called u`stuti`,
"topnot, or tip," on account of its crest.
u`tsuti`--fish. Also, many.
Uwaga`hi (commonly written Ocoee)--"Apricot place," from uwa`ga,
the "apricot vines," or "maypop," (Passiflora incarnata), and hi,
locative. A former important settlement on Ocowe river, near its
junction with Hiwassee, about the present Benton, in Polk county, Tenn.
uwa`yi--hand, paw, generally used with the possessive suffix, as
uwaye`ni, "his hand."
uwe`la--liver.
uwe`nahi--rich; used also as a personal name.
Uw`tsun`ta--"Bouncer" (habitual); from k`tsi, "it is bouncing." A
traditional serpent described as moving by jerks like a measuring worm,
to which also the name is applied.
Uyahye`--a high peak in the Great Smoky range, probably on the line
between Swain county, N. C., and Sevier county, Tenn.
Uy`gila`gi--abbreviated from Tsuyu`gila`gi, "where there are dams,"
i. e., beaver dams; from gu`gilu`unsku`, "he is damming it." 1. A
former settlement on Oothcaloga (Ougillogy) creek of Oostanaula river,
near the present Calhoun, in Gordon county, Ga.; 2. Beaverdam creek,
west of Clarksville, in Habbersham county, Ga.
Valleytown--see Gu`nahitun`yi.
Vengeance creek--see Gansa`ti`yi.
Wachesa--see Watsi`su.
wadan`--thanks!
wa`di--paint, especially red paint.
wa`dige-aska`li--"his head (is) brown," i. e., "brown-head"; from
wadige`i, brown, brown-red, and aska`li, head; the copperhead snake.
Wadi`yahi--a feminine name of doubtful etymology. An expert
basket-making woman among the East Cherokee, who died in 1895. She
was known to the whites as Mrs. Bushyhead.
Wafford--see Tsuskwanun`ta.
Wa`ginsi--the name of an eddy at the junction of Little Tennessee and
the main Tennessee rivers at Lenoir, in London county, Tenn. The town
is now known to the Cherokee by the same name, of which the meaning
is lost.
waguli`--whippoorwill; the name is an onomatope; the Delaware name
is wekolis.
Wahnenauhi--see Wani`nahi.
wa`huhu`--the screech-owl.
wa`ka--cow; from the Spanish vaca, as is also the Creek waga and the
Arapaho wakuch.
wala`si--the common green frog.
Walasi`yi--"Frog place." 1. A former settlement, known to the whites
as Frogtown, upon the creek of the same name, north of Dahlonega,
in Lumpkin county, Ga. 2. Le Conte and Bullhead Mountains in the
Great Smoky range on the N. C.-Tenn. line, together with the ridge
extending into Sevier county, Tenn., between the Middle and West
forks of Little Pigeon river.
walas`-unul`sti--"it fights frogs," from wala`si, frog, and unul`sti,
"it fights" (habitually); gu`lihu`, "I am fighting." The Prosartes
lanuginosa plant.
Walas`-unulstiyi`--"Place of the plant," walas`-unul`sti, commonly
known to the whites as Fightingtown, from a translation of the latter
part of a name; a former settlement on Fighting creek, near Morgantown,
in Fannin county, Ga.
Walini`--a feminine name, compounded from Wali, another form of Kwali,
"Polly," with a suffix added for euphony.
Wane`-asun`tlunyi--"Hickory footlog place," from wane`i, hickory,
asun-tlun`i (q. v.), footlog, bridge, and yi, locative. A former
settlement, known to the whites as Hickory-log, on Etowah river,
a short distance above Canton, in Cherokee county, Ga.
Wani`nahi`--a feminine name of uncertain etymology; the Wahnenauhi
of the Wahnenauhi manuscript.
Washington--see Wa`situ`na.
Wa`si--the Cherokee form for Moses.
Wa`situ`na, Wa`suntu`na (different dialect forms)--a Cherokee known to
the whites as Washington, the sole survivor of a Removal tragedy. The
name denotes a hollow log (or other cylindrical object) lying on the
ground at a distance; the root of the word is asi`ta, log, and the
w prefix indicates distance.
Wa`sulu`--a large red-brown moth which flies about blossoming tobacco
in the evening.
Wata`gi (commonly written Watauga, also Wataga, Wattoogee, Whatoga,
etc.)--a name occurring in two or more towns in the old Cherokee
country; one was an important settlement on Watauga creek of Little
Tennessee river, a few miles below Franklin, in Macon county, N. C.;
another was traditionally located at Watauga Old Fields, about the
present Elizabethton on Wateuga river, in Carter county, Tenn. The
meaning is lost.
Watau`ga--see Wata`gi.
Watsi`sa--a prominent old Cherokee, known to the whites as Wachesa, a
name which cannot be translated, who formerly lived on Beaverdam creek
of Hiwassee river, below Murphy, in Cherokee county, N. C. From the
fact that the Unicoi turnpike passed near his place, it was locally
known as Wachesa trail.
wa`ya--wolf; an onomatope, an imitation of the animal's howl; cf. the
Creek name, yaha.
Wa`ya`hi--"Wolf place," i. e., place of the Wolf clan; the form
Ani`Wa`ya`hi is not used. Wolftown settlement on upper Soco creek,
on the East Cherokee reservation, in Jackson county, N. C.
Waya Gap--see A`tahi`ta.
Wayeh--see Wayi.
Wayi--"Pigeon"; the modern Cherokee name for Big Pigeon river, in
western N. C.; probably a translation of the English name. It appears
also as Wayeh.
Welch, Lloyd--see Da`si`giya`gi.
wesa--cat.
White-path--see Nunna`hi-tsune`ga.
Willstown--a former important settlement, so-called from the half-breed
chief known to the whites as Red-headed Will, on Will's creek below
Fort Payne, in Dekalb county, Ala. The settlement was frequently
called from him Wili`yi, "Will's place," but this was not the proper
local name.
Wilsini`--The Cherokee name for H. W. Spray, agent and superintendent
for the East Cherokee reservation; an adaptation of his middle name,
Wilson.
Wil-usdi`--"Little Will," from Wili`, Will and usdi`ga or usdi`,
little. The Cherokee name for Colonel W. H. Thomas, for many years
the recognized chief of the eastern band.
Wissactaw--see gahawi`stia.
Wolftown--see Wa`ya`hi.
Wootassite--see Outacity.
Wrosetasatow--see Outacity.
Wude`ligun`yi--the west; literally "there where it (the sun) goes
down," (w prefixed implies distance, yi, locative). See also Usunhi`yi
and wusuhihun`yi.
Wuliga`natutun--excelling all others, either good or bad; it may be
used as equivalent to wastun, "beyond the limit."
wusuhihun`yi--"there where they stay over night," i. e., "the west." An
archaic term used by the narrator of the story of Untsaiyi`.
Xuala--see Ani-Suwa`li.
ya--a suffix denoting principal or real, as tsiskwa`ya, "principal
bird," the sparrow; Ani`-Yunwiya`, "principal or real people," Indians.
Yahula`li--"Yahu`la place," from Yuhu`la, a Cherokee trader said to
have been taken by the spirit people; Yahu`la, seems to be from the
Creek yoho`lo, a name having reference to the song (yoholo), used in
the "black drink" ceremony of the Creeks; thus a`si-yoho`lo, corrupted
into Osceola, signified "the black drink song"; it may, however,
be a true Cherokee word, yahu`lu or yahu`li, the name for a variety
of hickory, also for the "doodle-bug"; Unyahu`la is a feminine name,
but cannot be translated. Yahoola creek, near Dahlonega, in Lumpkin
county, Ga.
Yala`gi--Alarka creek of Little Tennessee river, above the junction
of Tuckasegee, in Swain county, N. C.; the meaning of the name is lost.
yandaska`ga--a faultfinder.
Yan-e`gwa--"Big-Bear," from yanu, bear, and egwa, great, large. A
prominent chief about the year 1800; the name occurs in treaties as
Yonah, Yohanaqua and Yonahequah.
ya`nu--bear.
Ya`nu-dinehun`yi--"where the bears live," from yanu, bear, dinehu`,
"they dwell" (e`hu, "I dwell, I live") and yi, locative. A place on
Oconaluftee river, a short distance above the junction with Tuckasegee,
in Swain county, N. C.
Yanugun`ski--"the bear drowns him" (habitually), from yanu, bear,
and tsigun`iska`, "I am drowning him." A noted East Cherokee chief,
known to the whites as Yonaguska or Drowning-bear.
yan`-utse`stu--"The bear lies on it"; the shield fern (Aspidium).
Ya`nu-u`natawasti`yi--"where the bears wash," (from yanu, bear, and
yi, locative); a former pond in the Great Smoky Mountains, about the
head of Raven Fork, in Swain county, N. C.
Yawa`i--"Yawa place"; a place on Yellow creek of Cheowa river, in
Graham county, N. C.
Yellow-Hill--see Elawa`diyi.
Yohanaqua--see Yan-e`gwa.
yoho-o!--an unmeaning song refrain.
Yonaguska--see Ya`nugun`ski.
Yonah--1. (mountain) see Gadalu`lu. 2. An abbreviated treaty form
for the name of the chief Yana`gwa.
Yonahequah--see Yan-e`gwa.
Ytaua, Ytava--see I`tawa`.
Yu!--an unmeaning song refrain and interjection.
Yuha`li--Euharlee creek, of lower Etowah river, in Bartow county,
Ga. The name is said by the Cherokee to be a corruption of Yufala
(Eufaula), a well known Creek local name.
yunsu`--buffalo; cf. Creek yena`sa, Choctaw yanash, Hichitee ya`nasi.
Yunsa`i--"Buffalo place"; West Buffalo creek of Cheowa river in Graham
county, N. C.; the site of a former Cherokee settlement.
yun`wi--person, man.
Yun`wi Ama`yine`hi--"Water-dwelling people," from yun`wi, person,
and ama`yine`hi, plural of amaye`hi, q. v.; a race of water fairies.
Yun`wi Gunahi`ta--"Long Man"; a formulistic name for the river,
personified as a man with his head resting on the mountain and his
feet stretching down to the lowlands, who is constantly speaking to
those who can understand the message.
Yun`wini`gisgi--"man-eaters," literally, "They eat people"
(habitually), from yun`wi, person, man, and uni, giski, "they eat"
(habitually), from tsikiu`, "I am eating"; the Cherokee name for a
distant cannibal tribe, possibly the Atakapa or the Tonkawa.
Yun`wi-tsulenun`yi--"where man stood," originally yun`wi-dikatagun`yi,
"where the man stands," from yun`wi, person, man, tsita`ga, "I am
standing," and yi, locative; Standing Indian, a high bald mountain
at the head of Nantahala river, in Macon county, N. C.
Yun`wi Tsunsdi`--"little people," from yun`wi, person, people,
and tsunsdi`ga or tsunsdi, plural of usdi`ga or usdi`, little; the
Cherokee fairies.
Yun`wi Usdi`--"little man." A formulistic name for ginseng,
a`tali-guli`, q. v.
Yun`wi-usga`se`ti--"dangerous man, terrible man"; a traditional leader
in the westward migration of Cherokee.
Yun`wiya`--"Indian," literally, "principal or real person," from
yun`wi, person, and ya, a suffix denoting principal or real.
yu`we-yuwehe`--an unmeaning song refrain.
NOTE
[1] Colonel Thomas.
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