In the preparation of the following notes and parallels the purpose has been to incorporate every Cherokee variant or pseudomyth obtainable from any source, and to give some explanation of tribal customs and beliefs touched upon in the myths, particularly among the Southern tribes. A certain number of parallels have been incorporated, but it must be obvious that this field is too vast for treatment within the limits of a single volume. Moreover, in view of the small number of tribes that have yet been studied, in comparison with the great number still unstudied, it is very doubtful whether the time has arrived for any extended treatment of Indian mythology. The most complete index of parallels that has yet appeared is that accompanying the splendid collection by Dr Franz Boas, Indianische Sagen von der nordpacifischen KÜste Amerikas. A more special study of Cherokee myths in their connection with the medical and religious ritual of the tribe is reserved for a future paper, of which preliminary presentation has been given in the author’s Sacred Formulas of the Cherokees, in the Seventh Annual Report of the Bureau of Ethnology. Stories and story tellers (p. 229): Migration legend—In Buttrick’s Antiquities In this journey “the tribes marched separately and also the clans. The clans were distinguished by having feathers of different colors fastened to their ears. They had two great standards, one white and one red. The white standard was under the control of the priests, and used for civil purposes; but the red standard was under the direction of the war priests, for purposes of war and alarm. These were carried when they journeyed, and the white standard erected in front of the building above mentioned [the ark or palladium], when they rested.” They cross four rivers in all—which accords with the Indian idea of the sacred four—and sit down at last beyond the fourth, after having been for many years on the march. “Their whole journey through this wilderness was attended with great distress and danger. At one time they were beset by the most deadly kind of serpents, which destroyed a great many of the people, but at length their leader shot one with an arrow and drove them away. Again, they were walking along in single file, when the ground cracked open and a number of people sank down and were destroyed by the earth closing upon them. At another time they came nigh perishing for water. Their head men dug with their staves in all the low places, but could find no water. At length their leader found a most beautiful spring coming out of a rock.” At one point in this migration, according to a tradition given to Schoolcraft by Stand Watie, they encountered a large river or other great body of water, which they crossed upon a bridge made by tying grapevines together. Farther on the missionary already quoted says: “Shield-eater once inquired if I ever heard of houses with flat roofs, saying that his father’s great grandfather used to say that once their people had a great town, with a high wall about it; that on a certain occasion their enemies broke down a part of this wall; that the houses in this town had flat roofs—though, he used to say, this was so long ago it is not worth talking about now.” Fire of cane splints—Bartram thus describes the method as witnessed by him at Attasse (Autossee) among the Creeks about 1775. The fire which blazed up so mysteriously may have been kept constantly smoldering below, as described in number 111: “As their virgils [sic] and manner of conducting their vespers and mystical fire in this rotunda, are extremely singular, and altogether different from the customs and usages of any other people, I shall proceed to describe them. In the first place, the governor or officer who has the management of this business, with his servants attending, orders the black drink to be brewed, which is a decoction or infusion of the leaves and tender shoots of the cassine. This is done under an open shed or pavilion, at twenty or thirty yards distance, directly opposite the door of the council-house. Next he orders bundles of dry canes to be brought in: these are previously split and broken in pieces to about the length of two feet, and then placed obliquely crossways upon one another on the floor, forming a spiral circle round about the great centre pillar, rising to a foot or eighteen inches in height from the ground; and this circle spreading as it proceeds round and round, often repeated from right to 1. How the world was made (p. 239): From decay of the old tradition and admixture of Bible ideas the Cherokee genesis myth is too far broken down to be recovered excepting in disjointed fragments. The completeness of the destruction may be judged by studying the similar myth of the Iroquois or the Ojibwa. What is here preserved was obtained chiefly from Swimmer and John Ax, the two most competent authorities of the eastern band. The evergreen story is from Ta'gwadihi'. The incident of the brother striking his sister with a fish to make her pregnant was given by AyÂsta, and may have a phallic meaning. John Ax says the pregnancy was brought about by the “Little People,” YuÑwi Tsunsdi', who commanded the woman to rub spittle (of the brother?) upon her back, and to lie upon her breast, with her body completely covered, for seven days and nights, at the end of which period the child was born, and another thereafter every seven days until the period was made longer. According to Wafford the first man was created blind and remained so for some time. The incident of the buzzard shaping the mountains occurs also in the genesis myth of the Creeks The missionaries Buttrick and Washburn give versions of the Cherokee genesis, both of which are so badly warped by Bible interpretation as to be worthless. No native cosmogonic myth yet recorded goes back to the first act of creation, but all start out with a world and living creatures already in existence, though not in their final form and condition. Hand-breadth—The Cherokee word is utawÂ'hilÛ, from uwÂyi, hand. This is not to be taken literally, but is a figurative expression much used in the sacred formulas to denote a serial interval of space. The idea of successive removals of the sun, in order to modify the excessive heat, is found with other tribes. Buttrick, already quoted, says in his statement of the Cherokee cosmogony: “When God created the world he made a heaven or firmament about as high as the tops of the mountains, but this was too warm. He then created a second, which was also too warm. He thus proceeded till he had created seven heavens and in the seventh fixed His abode. During some of their prayers they raise their hands to the first, second, third, fourth, fifth, sixth and seventh heaven,” etc. In Hindu cosmogony also we find seven heavens or stages, increasing in sanctity as they ascend; the Aztecs had nine, as had also the ancient Scandinavians. Seven: The sacred numbers—In every tribe and cult throughout the world we find sacred numbers. Christianity and the Christian world have three and seven. The Indian has always four as the principal sacred number, with usually another only slightly subordinated. The two sacred numbers of the Cherokee are four and seven, the latter being the actual number of the tribal clans, the formulistic number of upper worlds or heavens, and the ceremonial number of paragraphs or repetitions in the principal formulas. Thus in the prayers for long life the priest raises his client by successive stages to the first, second, third, fourth, and finally to the seventh heaven before the end is accomplished. The sacred four has direct relation to the four cardinal points, while seven, besides these, includes also “above,” “below,” and “here in the center.” In many tribal rituals color and sometimes sex are assigned to each point of direction. In the sacred Cherokee formulas the spirits of the East, South, West, and North are, respectively, Red, White, Black, and Blue, and each color has also its own symbolic meaning of Power (War), Peace, Death, and Defeat. 2. The first fire (p. 240): This myth was obtained from Swimmer and John Ax. It is noted also in Foster’s “Sequoyah” In the version given in the Wahnenauhi manuscript the Possum and the Buzzard first make the trial, but come back unsuccessful, one losing the hair from his tail, while the other has the feathers scorched from his head and neck. In another version the Dragon-fly assists the Water-spider by pushing the tusti from behind. In the corresponding Creek myth, as given in the Tuggle manuscript, the Rabbit obtains fire by the stratagem of touching to the blaze a cap trimmed with sticks of rosin, while pretending to bend low in the dance. In the Jicarilla myth the Fox steals fire by wrapping cedar bark around his tail and thrusting it into the blaze while dancing around the circle. 3. Kana'ti and Selu: Origin of corn and game (p. 242): This story was obtained in nearly the same form from Swimmer and John Ax (east) and from Wafford (west), and a version is also given in the Wahnenauhi manuscript. Hagar notes it briefly in his manuscript Stellar Legends of the Cherokee. So much of belief and custom depend upon the myth of Kana'ti that references to the principal incidents are constant in the songs and formulas. It is one of those myths held so sacred that in the old days one who wished to hear it from the priest of the tradition must first purify himself by “going to water,” i. e., bathing in the running stream before daylight when still fasting, while the priest performed his mystic ceremonies upon the bank. In his Letters from the Alleghany Mountains, written more than fifty years ago, Lanman gives (pp. 136, 137) a very fair synopsis of this myth, locating the game The story has numerous parallels in Indian myth, so many in fact that almost every important concept occurring in it is duplicated in the North, in the South, and on the plains, and will probably be found also west of the mountains when sufficient material of that region shall have been collected. The Ojibwa story of “The Weendigoes,” His wife was Selu, “Corn”—In Cherokee belief, as in the mythologies of nearly every eastern tribe, the corn spirit is a woman, and the plant itself has sprung originally from the blood drops or the dead body of the Corn Woman. In the Cherokee sacred formulas the corn is sometimes invoked as Agawe'la, “The Old Woman,” and one myth (number 72, “The Hunter and Selu”) tells how a hunter once witnessed the transformation of the growing stalk into a beautiful woman. In the Creek myth “Origin of Indian Corn,” as given in the Tuggle manuscript, the corn plant appears to be the transformed body of an old woman whose only son, endowed with magic powers, has developed from a single drop of her (menstrual?) blood. In Iroquois legend, according to Morgan, the corn plant sprang from the bosom of the mother of the Great Spirit (sic) after her burial. The spirits of corn, bean, and squash are represented as three sisters. “They are supposed to have the forms of beautiful females, to be very fond of each other, and to delight to dwell together. This last belief is illustrated by a natural adaptation of the plants themselves to grow up together in the same field and perhaps from the same hill.” Sprang from blood—This concept of a child born of blood drops reappears in the Cherokee story of Tsul?kalÛ' (see number 81). Its occurrence among the Creeks has just been noted. It is found also among the Dakota (Dorsey, “The Blood-clots Boy,” in Contributions to North American Ethnology, IX, 1893), Omaha (Dorsey, “The Rabbit and the Grizzly Bear,” Cont. to N. A. Eth., VI, 1890), Blackfeet (“Kutoyis,” in Grinnell, “Blackfoot Lodge Tales”; New York, 1892), and other tribes. Usually the child thus born is of wilder and more mischievous nature than is common. Deer shut up in hole—The Indian belief that the game animals were originally shut up in a cave, from which they were afterward released by accident or trickery, is very widespread. In the Tuggle version of the Creek account of the creation of the earth we find the deer thus shut up and afterward set free. The Iroquois “believed that the game animals were not always free, but were enclosed in a cavern Storehouse—The unwadÂ'li, or storehouse for corn, beans, dried pumpkins, and other provisions, was a feature of every Cherokee homestead and was probably common to all the southern tribes. Lawson thus describes it among the Santee in South Carolina about the year 1700: “They make themselves cribs after a very curious manner, wherein they secure their corn from vermin, which are more frequent in these warm climates than in countries more distant from the sun. These pretty fabrics are commonly supported with eight feet or posts about seven feet high from the ground, well daubed within and without upon laths, with loam or clay, which makes them tight and fit to keep out the smallest insect, there being a small door at the gable end, which is made of the same composition and to be removed at pleasure, being no bigger than that a slender man may creep in at, cementing the door up with the same earth when they take the corn out of the crib and are going from home, always finding their granaries in the same posture they left them—theft to each other being altogether unpracticed.” Rubbed her stomach—This miraculous procuring of provisions by rubbing the body occurs also in number 76, “The Bear Man.” Knew their thoughts—Mind reading is a frequent concept in Indian myth and occurs in more than one Cherokee story. Seven times—The idea of sacred numbers has already been noted, and the constant recurrence of seven in the present myth exemplifies well the importance of that number in Cherokee ritual. A tuft of down—In the Omaha story, “The Corn Woman and the Buffalo Woman” (Dorsey, Contributions to North American Ethnology, VI, 1890), the magician changes himself into a feather and allows himself to be blown about by the wind in order to accomplish his purpose. The wolf does the same in a Thompson River myth. Play ball against them—This is a Cherokee figurative expression for a contest of any kind, more particularly a battle. Left an open space—When the Cherokee conjurer, by his magic spells, coils the great (invisible) serpent around the house of a sick man to keep off the witches, he is always careful to leave a small space between the head and tail of the snake, so that the members of the family can go down to the spring to get water. Wolves—The wolf is regarded as the servant and watchdog of Kana'ti. See number 15, “The Fourfooted Tribes.” From these have come all—In nearly every Indian mythology we find the idea of certain animal tribes being descended from a single survivor of some great slaughter by an early hero god or trickster. Thus the Kiowa say that all the prairie dogs on the plains are descended from a single little fellow who was too wary to close his eyes, as his companions did, when the hungry vagrant Sinti was planning to capture them all for his dinner under pretense of teaching them a new dance. A gaming wheel—This was the stone wheel or circular disk used in the wheel-and-stick game, called by the Cherokee gatayÛsti, and which in one form or another was practically universal among the tribes. It was the game played by the great mythic gambler ÛÑtsaiyi' (see number 63). It has sometimes been known in the north as the “snow-snake,” while to the early southern traders it was known as chunki or chungkey, a corruption of the Creek name. Timberlake (page 77) mentions it under the name of nettecawaw—for which there seems to be no other authority—as he saw it among the Cherokee in 1762. “They have near their state house a square piece of ground well cleaned, and fine sand is carefully strewed over it, when requisite, to promote a swifter motion to what they throw along the surface. Only one, or two on a side, play at this ancient game. They have a stone about two fingers broad at the edge and two spans round. Each party has a pole of about eight feet long, smooth, and tapering at each end, the points flat. They set off abreast of each other at 6 yards from the end of the playground; then one of them hurls the stone on its edge, in as direct a line as he can, a considerable distance toward the middle of the other end of the square. When they have ran [sic] a few yards each darts his pole, anointed with bear’s oil, with a proper force, as near as he can guess in proportion to the motion of the stone, that the end may lie close to the stone. When this is the case, the person counts two of the game, and in proportion to the nearness of the poles to the mark, one is counted, unless by measuring both are found to be at an equal distance from the stone. In this manner the players will keep running most part of the day at half speed, under the violent heat of the sun, staking their silver ornaments, their nose, finger and ear rings; their breast, arm and wrist plates, and even all their wearing apparel except that which barely covers their middle. All the American Indians are much addicted to this game, which to us appears to be a task of stupid drudgery. It seems, however, to be of early origin, when their forefathers used diversions as simple as their manners. The hurling stones they use at present were time immemorial rubbed smooth on the rocks, and with prodigious labour. They are kept with the strictest religious care from one generation to another, and are exempted from being buried with the dead. They belong to the town where they are used, and are carefully preserved.” In one version of the Kana'ti myth the wheel is an arrow, which the wild boy shoots toward the four cardinal points and finally straight upward, when it comes back no more. When they get above the sky they find Kana'ti and Selu sitting together, with the arrow sticking in the ground in front of them. In the Creek story, “The Lion [Panther?] and the Little Girl,” of the Tuggle collection, the lion has a wheel “which could find anything that was lost.” The twilight land—UsÛÑhi'yi, “Where it is always growing dark,” the spirit land in the west. This is the word constantly used in the sacred formulas to denote the west, instead of the ordinary word Wude'ligÛÑ'yi, “Where it sets.” In the same way NÛÑdÂ'yi, or NÛÑdÂgÛÑ'yi, the “Sun place, or region,” is the formulistic name for the east instead of DigalÛÑgÛÑ'yi, “Where it [i. e., the sun] comes up,” the ordinary term. These archaic expressions give to myths and formulas a peculiar beauty which is lost in the translation. As the interpreter once said, “I love to hear these old words.” Struck by lightning—With the American tribes, as in Europe, a mysterious potency attaches to the wood of a tree which has been struck by lightning. The Cherokee conjurers claim to do wonderful things by means of such wood. Splinters of it are frequently buried in the field to make the corn grow. It must not be forgotten that the boys in this myth are Thunder Boys. The end of the world—See notes to number 7, “The Journey to the Sunrise.” Anisga'ya Tsunsdi'—Abbreviated from Anisga'ya Tsunsdi'ga, “Little Men.” These two sons of Kana'ti, who are sometimes called Thunder Boys and who live in UsÛÑhi'yi above the sky vault, must not be confounded with the YÛÑwi Tsunsdi', or “Little People,” who are also Thunderers, but who live in caves of the rocks and cause the short, sharp claps of thunder. There is also the Great Thunderer, the thunder of the whirlwind and the hurricane, who seems to be identical with Kana'ti himself. Deer songs—The Indian hunters of the olden time had many songs intended to call up the deer and the bear. Most of these have perished, but a few are still remembered. They were sung by the hunter, with some accompanying ceremony, to a sweetly plaintive tune, either before starting out or on reaching the hunting ground. One Cherokee deer song; sung with repetition, may be freely rendered: O Deer, you stand close by the tree, You sweeten your saliva with acorns, Now you are standing near, You have come where your food rests on the ground. Gatschet, in his Creek Migration Legend (I, p. 79), gives the following translation of a Hichitee deer hunting song: Somewhere (the deer) lies on the ground, I think; I walk about. Awake, arise, stand up! It is raising up its head, I believe; I walk about. Awake, arise, stand up! It attempts to rise, I believe; I walk about. Awake, arise, stand up! Slowly it raises its body, I think; I walk about. Awake, arise, stand up! It has now risen on its feet, I presume; I walk about. Awake, arise, stand up! 4. Origin of disease and medicine (p. 250): This myth was obtained first from Swimmer, as explaining the theory upon which is based the medical practice of the Cherokee doctor. It was afterward heard, with less detail, from John Ax (east) and James Wafford (west). It was originally published in the author’s Sacred Formulas of the Cherokees, in the Seventh Annual Report of the Bureau of Ethnology. In the mythology of most Indian tribes, as well as of primitive peoples generally, disease is caused by animal spirits, ghosts, or witchcraft, and the doctor’s efforts are directed chiefly to driving out the malevolent spirit. In Creek belief, according to the Tuggle manuscript, “all disease is caused by the winds, which are born in the air and then descend to the earth.” It is doubtful, however, if this statement is Animal chiefs and tribes—For an exposition of the Cherokee theory of the tribal organization of the animals, with townhouses and councils, under such chiefs as the White Bear, the Little Deer, etc., see number 15, “The Fourfooted Tribes.” KuwÂ'hi mountain—“The Mulberry place,” one of the high peaks in the Great Smoky mountains, on the dividing line between Swain county, North Carolina, and Sevier county, Tennessee. The bears have a townhouse under it. Ask the bear’s pardon—See number 15, “The Fourfooted Tribes,” and notes. The ground squirrel’s stripes—According to a Creek myth in the Tuggle collection the stripes on the back of the ground squirrel were made by the bear, who scratched the little fellow in anger at a council held by the animals to decide upon the proper division of day and night. Precisely the same explanation is given by the Iroquois of New York state 5. The Daughter of the Sun: Origin of death (p. 252): This is one of the principal myths of the Cherokee, and like most of its class, has several variants. The sequel has an obvious resemblance to the myth of Pandora. It was obtained in whole or in part from Swimmer, John Ax, James Blythe, and others of the eastern band. The version mainly followed is that of Swimmer, which differs in important details from that of John Ax. As told by John Ax, it is the Sun herself, instead of her daughter, who is killed, the daughter having been assigned the duty of lighting the earth after the death of her mother, the original Sun. The only snakes mentioned are the Spreading Adder and the Rattlesnake, the first being a transformed man, while the other is a stick, upon which the Little Men cut seven rings before throwing it in the pathway of the Sun, where it becomes a rattlesnake. The seven rods or staves of the Swimmer version are with John Ax seven corncobs, which are thrown at the girl as she passes in the dance (cf. Hagar variant of number 8 in notes). The Little Men (see number 3, “Kana'ti and Selu,” and other stories) belong to the John Ax version. The others have only a conjurer or chief to direct proceedings. This myth is noted in the Payne manuscript, of date about 1835, quoted in Squier, Serpent Symbol, page 67: “The Cherokees state that a number of beings were engaged in the creation. The Sun was made first. The intention of the creators was that men should live always. But the Sun, when he passed over, told them that there was not land enough and that people had better die. At length the daughter of the Sun, who was with them, was bitten by a snake and died. The Sun, on his return, inquired for her and was told that she was dead. He then consented that human beings might live always, and told them to take a box and go where the spirit of his daughter was and bring it back to her body, charging them that when they got her spirit they should not open the box until they had arrived where her body was. However, impelled by curiosity, they opened it, contrary to the injunction of the Sun, and the spirit escaped; and then the fate of all men was decided, that they must die.” This is copied without credit by Foster, Sequoyah, page 241. Another version is thus given by the missionary Buttrick, who died in 1847, in his Antiquities of the Cherokee Indians, page 3: “Soon after the creation one of the family was bitten by a serpent and died. All possible means were resorted to to bring back life, but in vain. Being overcome in this first instance, the whole race was doomed to follow, not only to death, but to misery afterwards, as it was supposed In a variant noted by Hagar the messengers carry four staves and are seven days traveling to the ghost country. “They found her dancing in the land of spirits. They struck her with the first ‘stick,’ it produced no effect—with the second, and she ceased to dance—with the third, and she looked around—with the fourth, and she came to them. They made a box and placed her in it.” He was told by one informant: “Only one man ever returned from the land of souls. He went there in a dream after a snake had struck him in the forehead. He, Turkey-head, came back seven days after and described it all. The dead go eastward at first, then westward to the Land of Twilight. It is in the west in the sky, but not amongst the stars” (Stellar Legends of the Cherokee, MS, 1898). In a Shawano myth a girl dies, and, after grieving long for her, her brother sets out to bring her back from the land of shadows. He travels west until he reaches the place where the earth and sky meet; then he goes through and climbs up on the other side until he comes to the house of a great beneficent spirit, who is designated, according to the Indian system of respect, as grandfather. On learning his errand this helper gives him “medicine” by which he will be able to enter the spirit world, and instructs him how and in what direction to proceed to find his sister. “He said she would be at a dance, and when she rose to join in the movement he must seize and ensconce her in the hollow of a reed with which he was furnished, and cover the orifice with the end of his finger.” He does as directed, secures his sister, and returns to the house of his instructor, who transforms both into material beings again, and, after giving them sacred rituals to take back to their tribe, dismisses them by a shorter route through a trapdoor in the sky. In an Algonquian myth of New Brunswick a bereaved father seeks his son’s soul in the spirit domain of Papkootpawut, the Indian Pluto, who gives it to him in the shape of a nut, which he is told to insert in his son’s body, when the boy will come to life. He puts it into a pouch, and returns with the friends who had accompanied him. Preparations are made for a dance of rejoicing. “The father, wishing to take part in it, gave his son’s soul to the keeping of a squaw who stood by. Being curious to see it, she opened the bag, on which it escaped at once and took its flight for the realms of Papkootpawut.” In the ancient Egyptian legend of RÂ and Isis, preserved in a Turin papyrus dating from the twentieth dynasty, the goddess Isis, wishing to force from the great god RÂ, the sun, the secret of his power, sends a serpent to bite him, with the intention of demanding the secret for herself as the price of assistance. Taking some of her spittle, “Isis with her hand kneaded it together with the earth that was there. She made thereof a sacred serpent unto which she gave the form of a spear. She ... cast it on the way which the great god traversed in his double kingdom whenever he would. The venerable god advanced, the gods who served him as their Pharaoh followed him, he went forth as on every day. Then the sacred serpent bit him. The divine god opened his mouth and his cry reached unto heaven.... The poison seized on his flesh,” etc. The sky vault—See other references in number 1, “How the World was Made;” number 3, “Kana'ti and Selu,” and number 7, “The Journey to the Sunrise.” My grandchildren—The Sun calls the people tsÛÑgili'si, “my grandchildren,” this being the term used by maternal grandparents, the corresponding term used by paternal grandparents being tsÛÑgini'si. The Moon calls the people tsÛÑkina'tli, “my younger brothers,” the term used by a male speaking, the Moon being personified as a man in Cherokee mythology. The corresponding term used by a female is tsÛÑkita'. The Little Men—The Thunder Boys, sons of Kana'ti (see number 3, “Kana'ti and Selu”). They are always represented as beneficent wonder workers, of great power. Changed to snakes—The Cherokee names of the rattlesnake (Crotalus), copperhead (Trigonocephalus), and spreading adder (Heterodon) are, respectively, utsa'nati, “he has a bell” (?); wÂ'dige'i askÂ'li, “red-brown head”; and da'liksta', “vomiter,” from its habit of vomiting yellow slime, as is told in the story. For more concerning the Uktena see number 50, “The Uktena and the UlÛÑsÛ'ti.” Hand-breadth—See note to number 1, “How the World was Made.” 6. How they brought back the tobacco (p. 254): The first version of this myth as here given was obtained from Swimmer, and agrees with that of John Ax, except that for the humming bird the latter substitutes the wasulÛ, or large red-brown moth, which flies about the tobacco flower in the evening, and states that it was selected because it could fly so quietly that it would not be noticed. The second version was obtained from Wafford, in the Cherokee Nation west, who heard it from his great-uncle nearly ninety years ago, and differs so much from the other that it has seemed best to give it separately. The incident of the tree which grows taller as the man climbs it has close parallels in the mythology of the Kiowa and other Western tribes, but has no obvious connection with the story, and is probably either one of a series of adventures originally belonging to the trip or else a fragment from some otherwise forgotten myth. It may be mentioned that Wafford was a man of rather practical character, with but little interest or memory for stories, being able to fill in details of but few of the large number which he remembered having heard when a boy. In his Letters from the Alleghany Mountains, pages 119–121, Lanman gives the story as he obtained it in 1848 from Chief KÂlahÛ (see p. 173), still well remembered by those who knew him as an authority upon tribal traditions and ritual. In the KÂlahÛ version the story is connected with Hickorynut gap, a remarkable pass in the Blue ridge southeast from Asheville, North Carolina, and a comparison with the later versions shows clearly how much has been lost in fifty years. The whole body of Cherokee tradition has probably suffered a proportionate loss. “Before visiting this remarkable passage through the mountains [Hickorynut gap], I endeavored to ascertain, from the Cherokees of Qualla town, its original Indian “There was a time when the Cherokees were without the famous tso-lungh, or tobacco weed, with which they had previously been made acquainted by a wandering stranger from the far east. Having smoked it in their large stone pipes, they became impatient to obtain it in abundance. They ascertained that the country where it grew in the greatest quantities was situated on the big waters, and that the gateway to that country (a mighty gorge among the mountains) was perpetually guarded by an immense number of little people or spirits. A council of the bravest men in the nation was called, and, while they were discussing the dangers of visiting the unknown country, and bringing therefrom a large knapsack of the fragrant tobacco, a young man stepped boldly forward and said that he would undertake the task. The young warrior departed on his mission and never returned. The Cherokee nation was now in great tribulation, and another council was held to decide upon a new measure. At this council a celebrated magician rose and expressed his willingness to relieve his people of their difficulties, and informed them that he would visit the tobacco country and see what he could accomplish. He turned himself into a mole, and as such made his appearance eastward of the mountains; but having been pursued by the guardian spirits, he was compelled to return without any spoil. He next turned himself into a humming-bird, and thus succeeded, to a very limited extent, in obtaining what he needed. On returning to his country he found a number of his friends at the point of death, on account of their intense desire for the fragrant weed; whereupon he placed some of it in a pipe, and, having blown the smoke into the nostrils of those who were sick, they all revived and were quite happy. The magician now took into his head that he would revenge the loss of the young warrior, and at the same time become the sole possessor of all the tobacco in the unknown land. He therefore turned himself into a whirlwind, and in passing through the Hickorynut gorge he stripped the mountains of their vegetation, and scattered huge rocks in every part of the narrow valley; whereupon the little people were all frightened away, and he was the only being in the country eastward of the mountains. In the bed of a stream he found the bones of the young warrior, and having brought them to life, and turned himself into a man again, the twain returned to their own country heavily laden with tobacco; and ever since that time it has been very abundant throughout the entire land.” In the Iroquois story of “The Lad and the Chestnuts,” the Cherokee myth is paralleled with the substitution of a chestnut tree guarded by a white heron for the tobacco plant watched by the dagÛl?kÛ geese (see Smith, Myths of the Iroquois, in Second Annual Report Bureau of Ethnology, 1883). Tobacco—Tobacco, as is well known, is of American origin and is sacred among nearly all our tribes, having an important place in almost every deliberative or religious ceremony. The tobacco of commerce (Nicotiana tabacum) was introduced from the West Indies. The original tobacco of the Cherokee and other eastern tribes was the “wild tobacco” (Nicotiana rustica), which they distinguish now as tsÂl-agayÛÑ'li, “old tobacco.” By the Iroquois the same species is called the “real tobacco.” DagÛl?kÛ geese 7. The journey to the sunrise (p. 255): This story, obtained from John Ax, with additional details by Swimmer and Wafford, has parallels in many tribes. Swimmer did not know the burial incident, but said—evidently a more recent interpolation—that when they came near the sunrise they found there a race of black men at work. It is somewhat remarkable that the story has nothing to say of the travelers reaching the ocean, as the Cherokee were well aware of its proximity. What the Sun is like—According to the Payne manuscript, already quoted, the Cherokee anciently believed that the world, the first man and woman, and the sun and moon were all created by a number of beneficent beings who came down for the purpose from an upper world, to which they afterward returned, leaving the sun and moon as their deputies to finish and rule the world thus created. “Hence whenever the believers in this system offer a prayer to their creator, they mean by the creator rather the Sun and Moon. As to which of these two was supreme, there seems to have been a wide difference of opinion. In some of their ancient prayers, they speak of the Sun as male, and consider, of course, the Moon as female. In others, however, they invoke the Moon as male and the Sun as female; because, as they say, the Moon is vigilant and travels by night. But both Sun and Moon, as we have before said, are adored as the creator.... The expression, ‘Sun, my creator,’ occurs frequently in their ancient prayers. Indeed, the Sun was generally considered the superior in their devotions” (quoted in Squier, Serpent Symbol, p. 68). Haywood, in 1823, says: “The sun they call the day moon or female, and the night moon the male” (Nat. and Aborig. Hist. Tenn., p. 266). According to Swimmer, there is also a tradition that the Sun was of cannibal habit, and in human form was once seen killing and devouring human beings. Sun and Moon are sister and brother. See number 8, “The Moon and the Thunders.” The Indians of Thompson river, British Columbia, say of the sun that formerly “He was a man and a cannibal, killing people on his travels every day.... He hung up the people whom he had killed during his day’s travel when he reached home, taking down the bodies of those whom he had hung up the night before and eating them.” He was finally induced to abandon his cannibal habit (Teit, Thompson River Traditions, p. 53). In the same grave—This reminds us of the adventure in the voyage of Sinbad the Sailor, as narrated in the Arabian Nights. The sacrifice of the wife at her husband’s funeral was an ancient custom in the Orient and in portions of Africa, and still survives in the Hindu suttee. It may once have had a counterpart in America, but so far as known to the author the nearest approach to it was found in the region of the lower Columbia and adjacent northwest coast, where a slave was frequently buried alive with the corpse. Vault of solid rock—The sky vault which is constantly rising and falling at the horizon and crushes those who try to go beyond occurs in the mythologies of the Iroquois of New York, the Omaha and the Sioux of the plains, the Tillamook of Oregon, and other widely separated tribes. The Iroquois concept is given by Hewitt, “Rising and Falling of the Sky,” in Iroquois Legends, in the American Anthropologist for October, 1892. In the Omaha story of “The Chief’s Son and the Thunders” (Dorsey, Contributions to North American Ethnology, VI, 1890), a party of travelers in search of adventures “came to the end of the sky, and the end of the sky was going down into the ground.” They tried to jump across, and all succeeded excepting one, who failed to clear the distance, and “the end of the sky carried him away under the ground.” The others go on behind the other world and return the same way. In the Tillamook myth six men go traveling and reach “the lightning door, which opened and closed with great rapidity and force.” They get through safely, but one is caught on the return and has his back cut in half by the descending sky (Boas, Traditions of the Tillamook Indians, in Journal of American Folk-Lore, Jan., 1898). See also number 1, “How the World was Made” and number 3, “Kana'ti and Selu.” 8. The Moon and the Thunders (p. 256): The story of the sun and the moon, as here given, was obtained first from Swimmer and afterward from other informants. It is noted by Hagar, in his manuscript Stellar Legends of the Cherokee, one narrator making the girl blacken her brother’s face with seven (charred?) corn cobs (cf. John Ax’s version of number 5 in notes). Exactly the same myth is found with the native tribes of Greenland, Panama, Brazil, and Northern India. Among the Khasias of the Himalaya mountains “the changes of the moon are accounted for by the theory that this orb, who is a man, monthly falls in love with his wife’s mother, who throws ashes in his face. The sun is female.” On some northern branches of the Amazon “the moon is represented as a maiden who fell in love with her brother and visited him at night, but who was finally betrayed by his passing his blackened hand over her face.” With the Greenland Eskimo the Sun and Moon are sister and brother, and were playing in the dark, “when Malina, being teased in a shameful manner by her brother Anninga, smeared her hands with the soot of the lamp and rubbed them over the face and hands of her persecutor, that she might recognize him by daylight. Hence arise the spots in the moon (see Timothy Harley, Moon Lore, London, 1885, and the story “The Sun and the Moon,” in Henry Rink’s Tales and Traditions of the Eskimo, London, 1875). In British Columbia the same incident occurs in the story of a girl and her lover, who was a dog transformed to the likeness of a man (Teit, Thompson River Traditions, p. 62). A very similar myth occurs among the Cheyenne, in which the chief personages are human, but the offspring of the connection become the Pleiades (A. L. Kroeber, Cheyenne Tales, in Journal of American Folk-Lore, July, 1900). In nearly all mythologies the Sun and Moon are sister and brother, the Moon being generally masculine, while the Sun is feminine (cf. German, Der Mond, Die Sonne). The myth connecting the moon with the ballplay is from Haywood (Natural and Aboriginal History of Tennessee, p. 285), apparently on the authority of Charles Hicks, a mixed-blood chief. Eclipse—Of the myth of the eclipse monster, which may be frightened away by all sorts of horrible noises, it is enough to say that it is universal (see Harley, Moon Lore). The Cherokee name for the phenomenon is nÛÑda' walÂ'si u'giska', “the frog is swallowing the sun or moon.” Says Adair (History of the American Indians p. 65): “The first lunar eclipse I saw after I lived with the Indians was among the Cherokee, An. 1736, and during the continuance of it their conduct appeared very surprizing to one who had not seen the like before. They all ran wild, this way and that way, like lunatics, firing their guns, whooping and hallooing, beating of kettles, ringing horse bells, and making the most horrid noises that human beings possibly could. This was the effect of their natural philosophy and done to assist the suffering moon.” Sun and moon names—In probably every tribe both sun and moon are called by the same name, accompanied by a distinguishing adjective. The Thunders—The Cherokee name for Thunder, Ani'-HyÛÑ'tikwalÂ'ski, is an animate plural form and signifies literally, “The Thunderers” or “They who make the Thunder.” The great Thunderers are Kana'ti and his sons (see the story), but inferior thunder spirits people all the cliffs and mountains, and more particularly the great waterfalls, such as Tallulah, whose never-ceasing roar is believed to be the voice of the Thunderers speaking to such as can understand. A similar conception prevailed among the Iroquois and the eastern tribes generally. Adair says (History of the American Indians, p. 65), speaking of the southern tribes: “I have heard them say, when it rained, thundered, and blew sharp for a considerable time, that the beloved or holy people were at war above the clouds, and they believe that the war at such times is moderate or hot in proportion to the noise and violence of the storm.” In Portuguese West Africa also the Thunderers are twin brothers who quarreled and went, one to the east, the other to the west, whence each answers the Rainbow—The conception of the rainbow as the beautiful dress of the Thunder god occurs also among the South Sea islanders. In Mangaia it is the girdle of the god Tangaroa, which he loosens and allows to hang down until the end reaches to the earth whenever he wishes to descend (Gill, Myths and Songs of the South Pacific, p. 44). For some unexplained reason the dread of pointing at the rainbow, on penalty of having the finger wither or become misshapen, is found among most of the tribes even to the Pacific coast. The author first heard of it from a Puyallup boy of Puget sound, Washington. 9. What the stars are like (p. 257): This story, told by Swimmer, embodies the old tribal belief. By a different informant Hagar was told: “Stars are birds. We know this because one once shot from the sky to the ground, and some Cherokee who looked for it found a little bird, about the size of a chicken just hatched, where it fell” (MS Stellar Legends of the Cherokee, 1898). The story closely resembles something heard by Lawson among the Tuscarora in eastern North Carolina about the year 1700. An Indian having been killed by lightning, the people were assembled for the funeral, and the priest made them a long discourse upon the power of lightning over all men, animals, and plants, save only mice and the black-gum tree. “At last he began to tell the most ridiculous absurd parcel of lies about lightning that could be; as that an Indian of that nation had once got lightning in the likeness of a partridge; that no other lightning could harm him whilst he had that about him; and that after he had kept it for several years it got away from him, so that he then became as liable to be struck with lightning as any other person. There was present at the same time an Indian that had lived from his youth chiefly in an English house, so I called to him and told him what a parcel of lies the conjurer told, not doubting but he thought so as well as I; but I found to the contrary, for he replied that I was much mistaken, for the old man—who, I believe, was upwards of an hundred years old—did never tell lies; and as for what he said, it was very true, for he knew it himself to be so. Thereupon seeing the fellow’s ignorance, I talked no more about it (History of Carolina, page 346). According to Hagar a certain constellation of seven stars, which he identifies as the Hyades, is called by the Cherokee “The Arm,” on account of its resemblance to a human arm bent at the elbow, and they say that it is the broken arm of a man who went up to the sky because, having been thus crippled, he was of no further use upon earth. A meteor, and probably also a comet, is called Atsil'-TlÛÑtÛ'tsi” “Fire-panther,” the same concept being found among the Shawano, embodied in the name of their great chief, Tecumtha (see p. 215). 10. Origin of the Pleiades and the pine (p. 258): This myth is well known in the tribe, and was told in nearly the same form by Swimmer, Ta'gwadihi' and Suyeta. The Feather dance, also called the Eagle dance, is one of the old favorites, and is the same as the ancient Calumet dance of the northern tribes. For a description of the gatayÛ'sti game, see note to number 3, “Kana'ti and Selu.” In a variant recorded by Stansbury Hagar (MS Stellar Legends of the Cherokee) the boys spend their time shooting at cornstalks. According to Squier (Serpent Symbol, p. 69), probably on the authority of the Payne manuscript, “The Cherokees paid a kind of veneration to the morning star, and also to the seven stars, with which they have connected a variety of legends, all of which, no doubt, are allegorical, although their significance is now unknown.” The corresponding Iroquois myth below, as given by Mrs Erminnie Smith in her Myths of the Iroquois (Second Annual Report of Bureau of Ethnology, p. 80), is practically the same so far as it goes, and the myth was probably once common over a wide area in the East: “Seven little Indian boys were once accustomed to bring at eve their corn and beans to a little mound, upon the top of which, after their feast, the sweetest of their singers would sit and sing for his mates who danced around the mound. On one occasion they resolved on a more sumptuous feast, and each was to contribute towards a savory soup. But the parents refused them the needed supplies, and they met for a feastless dance. Their heads and hearts grew lighter as they flew around the mound, until suddenly the whole company whirled off into the air. The inconsolable parents called in vain for them to return, but it was too late. Higher and higher they arose, whirling around their singer, until, transformed into bright stars, they took their places in the firmament, where, as the Pleiades, they are dancing still, the brightness of the singer having been dimmed, however, on account of his desire to return to earth.” In an Eskimo tale a hunter was pursued by enemies, and as he ran he gradually rose from the ground and finally reached the sky, where he was turned into a star (Kroeber, Tales of the Smith Sound Eskimo, in Journal of American Folk-Lore). This transformation of human beings into stars and constellations is one of the most common incidents of primitive myth. 11. The Milky Way (p. 259): This story, in slightly different forms, is well known among the Cherokee east and west. The generic word for mill is dista'sti, including also the self-acting pound-mill or ÛlskwÛlte'gi. In the original version the mill was probably a wooden mortar, such as was commonly used by the Cherokee and other eastern and southern tribes. In a variant recorded in the Hagar Cherokee manuscript there are two hunters, one living in the north and hunting big game, while the other lives in the south and hunts small game. The former, discovering the latter’s wife grinding corn, seizes her and carries her far away across the sky to his home in the north. Her dog, after eating what meal is left, follows the pair across the sky, the meal falling from his mouth as he runs, making the Milky Way. With the Kiowa, Cheyenne, and other plains tribes the Milky Way is the dusty track along which the Buffalo and the Horse once ran a race across the sky. 12. Origin of strawberries (p. 259): This myth, as here given, was obtained from Ta'gwadihi', who said that all the fruits mentioned were then for the first time created, and added, “So some good came from the quarrel, anyhow.” The Swimmer version has more detail, but seems overdressed. 13. The Great Yellow-jacket: Origin of fish and frogs (p. 260): This story, obtained from Swimmer, is well known in the tribe, and has numerous parallels in other Indian mythologies. In nearly every tribal genesis we find the primitive world infested by ferocious monster animals, which are finally destroyed or rendered harmless, leaving only their descendants, the present diminutive types. Conspicuous examples are afforded in Matthew’s Navaho Legends Another version of the Cherokee legend is given by Lanman in his Letters from the Alleghany Mountains, pages 73–74: “The Cherokees relate that there once existed among those mountains [about Nantahala and Franklin] a very large bird, which resembled in appearance the green-winged hornet, and this creature was in the habit of carrying off the younger children of the nation who happened to wander into the woods. Very many children had mysteriously disappeared in this manner, and the entire people declared a As a sequel to this legend, it may be appropriately mentioned, that at the head of the Too-ge-lah is to be found one of the most remarkable curiosities of this mountain-land. It is a granite cliff with a smooth surface or front, half a mile long, and twelve hundred feet high, and generally spoken of in this part of the country as the White-side mountain, or the Devil’s court-house. To think of it is almost enough to make one dizzy, but to see it fills one with awe. Near the top of one part of this cliff is a small cave, which can be reached only by passing over a strip of rock about two feet wide. One man only has ever been known to enter it, and when he performed the deed he met at the entrance of the cave a large bear, which animal, in making its escape, slipped off the rock, fell a distance of near a thousand feet, and was of course killed. When the man saw this, he became so excited that it was some hours before he could quiet his nerves sufficiently to retrace his dangerous pathway.” The Cherokee myth has a close parallel in the Iroquois story of the great mosquito, as published by the Tuscarora traditionist, Cusick, in 1825, and quoted by Schoolcraft, Indian Tribes, V, page 638: “About this time a great musqueto invaded the fort Onondaga; the musqueto was mischievous to the people, it flew about the fort with a long stinger, and sucked the blood of a number of lives; the warriors made several oppositions to expel the monster, but failed; the country was invaded until the Holder of the Heavens was pleased to visit the people; while he was visiting the king at the fort Onondaga, the musqueto made appearance as usual and flew about the fort, the Holder of the Heavens attacked the monster, it flew so rapidly that he could hardly keep in sight of it, but after a few days chase the monster began to fail, he chased on the borders of the great lakes towards the sun-setting, and round the great country, at last he overtook the monster and killed it near the salt lake Onondaga, and the blood became small musquetos.” U'la?gÛ'—This is not the name of any particular species, but signifies a leader, principal, or colloquially, “boss,” and in this sense is applied to the large queen yellow-jacket seen in spring, or to the leader of a working gang. The insect of the story is described as a monster yellow-jacket. 14. The Deluge (p. 261): This story is given by Schoolcraft in his Notes on the Iroquois, page 358, as having been obtained in 1846 from the Cherokee chief, Stand Watie. It was obtained by the author in nearly the same form in 1890 from James Wafford, of Indian Territory, who had heard it from his grandmother nearly eighty It is not in place here to enter into a discussion of the meaning and universality of the deluge myth, for an explanation of which the reader is referred to Bouton’s Bible Myths and Bible Folklore. In one Creek version the warning is given by wolves; in another by cranes (see Bouton, cited above). 15. The four-footed tribes (p. 261): No essential difference—“I have often reflected on the curious connexion which appears to subsist in the mind of an Indian between man and the brute creation, and found much matter in it for curious observation. Although they consider themselves superior to all other animals and are very proud of that superiority; although they believe that the beasts of the forest, the birds of the air, and the fishes of the waters were created by the Almighty Being for the use of man; yet it seems as if they ascribe the difference between themselves and the brute kind, and the dominion which they have over them, more to their superior bodily strength and dexterity than to their immortal souls. All being endowed by the Creator with the power of volition and self motion, they view in a manner as a great society of which they are the head, whom they are appointed, indeed, to govern, but between whom and themselves intimate ties of connexion and relationship may exist, or at least did exist in the beginning of time. They are, in fact, according to their opinions, only the first among equals, the legitimate hereditary sovereigns of the whole animated race, of which they are themselves a constituent part. Hence, in their languages, these inflections of their nouns, which we call genders, are not, as with us, descriptive of the masculine and feminine species, but of the animate and inanimate kinds. Indeed, they go so far as to include trees, and plants within the first of these descriptions. All animated nature, in whatever degree, is in their eyes a great whole from which they have not yet ventured to separate themselves. They do not exclude other animals from their world of spirits, the place to which they expect to go after death.” According to the Ojibwa the animals formerly had the faculty of speech, until it was taken from them by Nanibojou as a punishment for having conspired against the human race. Animal chiefs and councils—In Pawnee belief, according to Grinnell, the animals, The same belief is noted by Chatelain in Angola, West Africa: “In African folk tales the animal world, as also the spirit world, is organized and governed just like the human world. In Angola the elephant is the supreme king of all animal creation, and the special chief of the edible tribe of wild animals. Next to him in rank the lion is special chief of the tribe of ferocious beasts and highest vassal of the elephant. Chief of the reptile tribe is the python. Chief of the finny tribe is, in the interior, the di-lenda, the largest river fish. Chief of the feathery tribe is the kakulu ka humbi, largest of the eagles. Among the domestic animals the sceptre belongs to the bull; among the locusts to the one called di-ngundu. Even the ants and termites have their kings or queens. Every chief or king has his court, consisting of the ngolambole, tandala, and other officers, his parliament of ma-kota and his plebeian subjects, just like any human African saba” (Folk tales of Angola, p. 22). Asking pardon of animals—For other Cherokee references see remarks upon the Little Deer, the Wolf, and the Rattlesnake; also number 4, “Origin of Disease and Medicine,” and number 58, “The Rattlesnake’s Vengeance.” This custom was doubtless general among the tribes, as it is thoroughly in consonance with Indian idea. The trader Henry thus relates a characteristic instance among the Ojibwa in 1764 on the occasion of his killing a bear near the winter camp: “The bear being dead, all my assistants approached, and all, but more particularly my old mother (as I was wont to call her), took his head in their hands, stroking and kissing it several times; begging a thousand pardons for taking away her life; calling her their relation and grandmother; and requesting her not to lay the fault upon them, since it was truly an Englishman that had put her to death. “This ceremony was not of long duration; and if it was I that killed their grandmother, they were not themselves behind-hand in what remained to be performed. The skin being taken off, we found the fat in several places six inches deep. This, being divided into two parts, loaded two persons; and the flesh parts were as much as four persons could carry. In all, the carcass must have exceeded five hundred weight. “As soon as we reached the lodge, the bear’s head was adorned with all the trinkets in the possession of the family, such as silver arm-bands and wrist-bands, and belts of wampum; and then laid upon a scaffold, set up for its reception, within the lodge. Near the nose was placed a large quantity of tobacco. “The next morning no sooner appeared, than preparations were made for a feast to the manes. The lodge was cleaned and swept; and the head of the bear lifted up, and a new stroud of blanket, which had never been used before, spread under it. The pipes were now lit; and Wawatam blew tobacco smoke into the nostrils of the bear, telling me to do the same, and thus appease the anger of the bear on account of my having killed her. I endeavored to persuade my benefactor and friendly adviser, that she no longer had any life, and assured him that I was under no apprehension from her displeasure; but, the first proposition obtained no credit, and the second gave but little satisfaction. “At length, the feast being ready, Wawatam commenced a speech, resembling, in many things, his address to the manes of his relations and departed companions; but, having this peculiarity, that he here deplored the necessity under which men The Rabbit—The part played by the Rabbit or Hare and his symbolic character in Indian myth has been already noted (see “Stories and Story Tellers”). In his purely animal character, as an actor among the fourfooted creatures, the same attributes of trickery and surpassing sagacity are assigned him in other parts of the world. In the folktales of Angola, West Africa, “The Hare seems to surpass the fox in shrewdness,” and “The Hare has the swiftness and shrewdness of the Monkey, but he is never reckless, as the Monkey sometimes appears to be” (Chatelain, Folktales of Angola, pp. 295, 300). In farthest Asia also “The animals, too, have their stories, and in Korea, as in some other parts of the world, the Rabbit seems to come off best, as a rule” (H. N. Allen, Korean Tales, p. 34; New York and London, 1889). The buffalo—Timberlake repeatedly remarks upon the abundance of the buffalo in the Cherokee country of East Tennessee in 1762. On one occasion, while in camp, they heard rapid firing from their scouts and “in less than a minute seventeen or eighteen buffaloes ran in amongst us, before we discovered them, so that several of us had like to have been run over, especially the women, who with some difficulty sheltered themselves behind the trees. Most of the men fired, but firing at random, one only was killed, tho’ several more wounded” (Memoirs, p. 101). According to a writer in the Historical Magazine, volume VIII, page 71,1864, the last two wild buffalo known in Ohio were killed in Jackson county in 1800. The elk—This animal ranged in eastern Carolina in 1700. “The elk is a monster of the venison sort. His skin is used almost in the same nature as the buffelo’s [sic].... His flesh is not so sweet as the lesser deer’s. His hams exceed in weight all creatures which the new world affords. They will often resort and feed with the buffelo, delighting in the same range as they do” (Lawson, Carolina, p. 203). Cuts out the hamstring—No satisfactory reason has been obtained for this custom, which has been noted for more than a century. Buttrick says of the Cherokee: “The Indians never used to eat a certain sinew in the thigh.... Some say that if they eat of the sinew they will have cramp in it on attempting to run. It is said that once a woman had cramp in that sinew and therefore none must eat it” (Antiquities, p. 12). Says Adair, speaking of the southern tribes generally: “When in the woods the Indians cut a small piece out of the lower part of the thigh of the deer they kill, length-ways and pretty deep. Among the great number of venison hams they bring to our trading houses I do not remember to have observed one without it” (History of the American Indians, pp. 137–138). White animals sacred—According to a formula in the Tuggle manuscript for curing the “deer sickness,” the “White Deer” is chief of his tribe in Creek mythology also. Peculiar sacredness always attaches, in the Indian mind, to white and albino animals, partly on account of the symbolic meaning attached to the color itself and partly by reason of the mystery surrounding the phenomenon of albinism. Among the Cherokee the chiefs both of the Deer and of the Bear tribe were white. On the plains the so-called white buffalo was always sacred. Among the Iroquois, according to Morgan (League of the Iroquois, p. 210), “the white deer, white squirrel and other chance animals of the albino kind, were regarded as consecrated to the Great Spirit.” One of their most solemn sacrifices was that of the White Dog. The bear—A reverence for the bear and a belief that it is half human is very general among the tribes, and is probably based in part upon the ability of the animal to stand upright and the resemblance of its tracks to human footprints. According to Grinnell (Blackfoot Lodge Tales, p. 260), “The Blackfeet believe it to be part brute and part human, portions of its body, particularly the ribs and feet, being like those of a man.” In a note upon a Navaho myth Matthews says (Navaho Legends, The Ojibwa idea has been noted in connection with the ceremony of asking pardon of the slain animal. A curious illustration of the reverse side of the picture is given by Heckewelder (Indian Nations, p. 255): “A Delaware hunter once shot a huge bear and broke its backbone. The animal fell and set up a most plaintive cry, something like that of the panther when he is hungry. The hunter instead of giving him another shot, stood up close to him, and addressed him in these words: ‘Hark ye! bear; you are a coward and no warrior as you pretend to be. Were you a warrior, you would shew it by your firmness, and not cry and whimper like an old woman. You know, bear, that our tribes are at war with each other, and that yours was the aggressor [probably alluding to a tradition which the Indians have of a very ferocious kind of bear, called the naked bear, which they say once existed, but was totally destroyed by their ancestors].... You have found the Indians too powerful for you, and you have gone sneaking about in the woods, stealing their hogs; perhaps at this time you have hog’s flesh in your belly. Had you conquered me, I would have borne it with courage and died like a brave warrior; but you, bear, sit here and cry, and disgrace your tribe by your cowardly conduct.’ I was present at the delivery of this curious invective. When the hunter had despatched the bear, I asked him how he thought that poor animal could understand what he said to it? ‘Oh,’ said he in answer, ‘the bear understood me very well; did you not observe how ashamed he looked while I was upbraiding him?’” The wolf and wolf killer—Speaking of the Gulf tribes generally, Adair says: “The wolf, indeed, several of them do not care to meddle with, believing it unlucky to kill them, which is the sole reason that few of the Indians shoot at that creature, through a notion of spoiling their guns” (History of the American Indians, p. 16). The author has heard among the East Cherokee an incident of a man who, while standing one night upon a fish trap, was scented by a wolf, which came so near that the man was compelled to shoot it. He at once went home and had the gun exorcised by a conjurer. Wafford, when a boy in the old Nation, knew a professional wolf killer. It is always permissible to hire a white man to kill a depredating wolf, as in that case no guilt attaches to the Indian or his tribe. 16. The Rabbit goes duck hunting (p. 266): This story was heard from Swimmer, John Ax, Suyeta (east), and Wafford (west). Discussions between animals as to the kind of food eaten are very common in Indian myth, the method chosen to decide the dispute being usually quite characteristic. The first incident is paralleled in a Creek story of the Rabbit and the Lion (Panther?) in the Tuggle manuscript collection and among the remote Wallawalla of Washington (see Kane, Wanderings of an Artist among the Indians of North America, p. 268; London, 1859). In an Omaha myth, Ictinike and the Buzzard, the latter undertakes to carry the trickster across a stream, but drops him into a hollow tree, from which he is chopped out by some women whom he has persuaded that there are raccoons inside (Dorsey, Contributions to North American Ethnology, VI). In the Iroquois tale, “A Hunter’s Adventures,” a hunter, endeavoring to trap some geese in the water, is carried up in the air and falls into a hollow stump, from which he is released by women (Smith, Myths of the Iroquois, in Second Annual Report of Bureau of Ethnology). In the Uncle Remus story, “Mr. Rabbit Meets His Match Again,” the Buzzard persuades the Rabbit to get upon his back in order to be carried across a river, but alights with him upon a tree overhanging the water and thus compels the Rabbit, by fear of falling, to confess a piece of trickery. 17. How the Rabbit stole the Otter’s coat (p. 267): This story is well known in the tribe and was heard from several informants, both east and west. Nothing is said as to how the Otter recovered his coat. It has exact parallels in the Creek myths of the Tuggle collection, in one of which the Rabbit tries to personate a boy hero by stealing his coat, while in another he plays a trick on the Lion (Panther) by throwing hot coals over him while asleep, at a creek which the Rabbit says is called “Throwing-hot-ashes-on-you.” 18. Why the Possum’s tail is bare (p. 269): This story was heard from several informants, east and west. In one variant the hair clipping was done by the Moth, and in another by the spells of the Snail, who is represented as a magician. The version here given is the most common, and agrees best with the Cherokee folklore concerning the Cricket (see number 59, “The Smaller Reptiles, Fishes, and Insects”). In the Creek myth, as given in the Tuggle collection, the Opossum burned the hair from his tail in trying to put rings upon it like those of the Raccoon’s tail, and grins from chewing a bitter oak ball which he mistook for a ripened fruit. The anatomical peculiarities of the opossum, of both sexes, have occasioned much speculation among the Indians, many of whom believe that the female produces her young without any help from the male. The Creeks, according to the Tuggle manuscript, believe that the young are born in the pouch, from the breathing of the female against it when curled up, and even Lawson and Timberlake assert that they are born at the teat, from which they afterward drop off into the pouch. A council and a dance—In the old days, as to-day among the remote Western tribes, every great council gathering was made the occasion of a series of dances, accompanied always by feasting and a general good time. 19. How the Wildcat caught the Gobbler (p. 269): This story was heard from John Ax and David Blythe (east) and from Wafford and Boudinot (west). The version given below, doctored to suit the white man’s idea, appears without signature in the Cherokee Advocate of December 18, 1845: “There was once a flock of wild turkeys feeding in a valley. As they fed they heard a voice singing. They soon discovered that the musician was a hare, and the burden of his song was that he had a secret in his breast which he would on no account divulge. The curiosity of the turkeys was excited, and they entreated the hare to tell them the secret. This he finally consented to do if they would procure for him the king’s daughter for his wife and go with him and dance around their enemy. They engaged to do all, and the hare led them to where a wildcat lay apparently dead. The hare prevailed upon them to close their eyes as they danced. The wildcat meanwhile silently arose and killed several of them before the rest found out what a snare they had been caught in. By this artifice on the part of the wildcat, seconded by the hare, the former had a sumptuous repast.” This, with its variants, is one of the most widespread of the animal myths. The same story told by the Cherokee, identical even to the song, is given in the Creek collection of Tuggle, with the addition that the Rabbit’s tail is afterward bitten off by the enraged Turkeys. In another Creek version, evidently a later invention, the Raccoon plays a similar trick upon the Deer for the benefit of the Panther. The Kiowa of the southern plains tell how the hungry trickster, Sinti, entices a number of prairie dogs to come near him, under pretense of teaching them a new dance, and then kills all but one, while they are dancing around him, according to instruction, with their eyes shut. With the Omaha the Rabbit himself captures the Turkeys while they dance around, with closed eyes, to his singing (Dorsey, “The Rabbit and the Turkeys,” and “Ictinike, the Turkeys, Turtle, and Elk,” in Contributions to North American Ethnology, VI). The same stratagem, with only a change of names, recurs in another Omaha story, “The Raccoon and the Crabs,” of the same collection, and in a Cheyenne story of White-man (A. L. Kroeber, Cheyenne Tales, in Journal 20. How the Terrapin beat the Rabbit (p. 270): This story was obtained from John Ax and Suyeta and is well known in the tribe. It is sometimes told with the Deer instead of the Rabbit as the defeated runner, and in this form is given by Lanman, who thus localizes it: “The race was to extend from the Black mountain to the summit of the third pinnacle extending to the eastward” (Letters, p. 37). In the Creek collection of Tuggle the same story is given in two versions, in one of which the Deer and in the other the Wolf is defeated by the stratagem of the Terrapin. The Southern negro parallel is given by Harris (Uncle Remus, His Songs and His Sayings) in the story, “Mr Rabbit Finds His Match at Last.” It seems almost superfluous to call attention to the European folklore version, the well-known story of the race between the Hare and the Tortoise. 21. The Rabbit and the tar wolf (p. 271): This story was obtained in the Indian Territory from James Wafford, who said he had repeatedly heard it in boyhood about Valley river, in the old Nation, from Cherokee who spoke no English. The second version, from the Cherokee Advocate, December 18, 1845, is given, together with the story of “How the Wildcat caught the Gobbler,” with this introduction: “Indian Fables. Mr William P. Ross: I have recently stumbled on the following Cherokee fables, and perhaps you may think them worth inserting in the Advocate for the sake of the curious. I am told that the Cherokees have a great many fables. If I understand the following, the intention seems to be to teach cunning and artifice in war. Æsop.” The newspaper paragraph bears the pencil initials of S[amuel] W[orcester] B[utler]. Other Indian versions are found with the Jicarilla (“Fox and Rabbit,” Myths of the Jicarilla, by Frank Russell, in Journal of American Folk-Lore, October, 1898) and Sioux (S. D. Hinman, cited in Transactions of the Anthropological Society of Washington, I, p. 103, Washington, 1882). The southern negro variant, “The Wonderful Tar-Baby Story,” is the introductory tale in Harris’s Uncle Remus, His Songs and His Sayings. A close parallel occurs in the West African story of “Leopard, Monkey, and Hare” (Chatelain, Folktales of Angola). 22. The Rabbit and the Possum after a wife (p. 273): This specimen of Indian humor was obtained at different times from Swimmer, John Ax, Suyeta (east), and Wafford (west), and is well known in the tribe. Wafford, in telling the story, remarked that the Rabbit was the chief’s runner, and according to custom was always well entertained wherever he went. 23. The Rabbit dines the Bear (p. 273): This favorite story with the Cherokee east and west is another of the animal myths of wide distribution, being found with almost every tribe from Maine to the Pacific. Beans and peas in several varieties were indigenous among the agricultural tribes. In the Creek version, in the Tuggle manuscript, “The Bear invited the Rabbit to dinner. When he came the Bear called his wife and said, ‘Have peas for dinner: the Rabbit loves peas.’ ‘But there is no grease,’ said the Bear’s wife, ‘to cook them with.’ ‘O,’ said the Bear, ‘that’s no trouble, bring me a knife.’ So she brought the knife and the Bear took it and split between his toes, while the Rabbit looked on in wonder. ‘No grease between my toes! Well, I know where there is some,’ so he cut a gash in his side and out, ran the grease. His wife took it and cooked the peas and they had a fine dinner and vowed always to be good friends,” etc. The In the Passamaquoddy version, “The Rabbit’s Adventure with Mooin, the Bear,” the Bear cuts a slice from his foot and puts it into the pot. The Rabbit invites the Bear to dinner and attempts to do the same thing, but comes to grief. 24. The Rabbit escapes from the wolves (p. 274): This story was obtained from James Wafford, in Indian Territory. Compare number 19, “How the Wildcat Caught the Gobbler.” 25. Flint visits the Rabbit (p. 274): This story was told in slightly different form by John Ax and Swimmer (east) and was confirmed by Wafford (west). Although among the Cherokee it has degenerated to a mere humorous tale for the amusement of a winter evening, it was originally a principal part of the great cosmogonic myth common to probably all the Iroquoian and Algonquian tribes, and of which we find traces also in the mythologies of the Aztec and the Maya. Among the northern Algonquian tribes “the West was typified as a flint stone, and the twin brother of Michabo, the Great Rabbit. The feud between them was bitter, and the contest long and dreadful.... At last Michabo mastered his fellow twin and broke him into pieces. He scattered the fragments over the earth....” Among the Iroquoian tribes, cognate with the Cherokee, the name is variously TawiskaroÑ, Tawiskara, and sometimes Ohaa, all of which are names both for flint and for hail or ice. Tawiskara is the evil-working god, in perpetual conflict with his twin brother Yoskeha, the beneficent god, by whom he is finally overpowered, when the blood that drops from his wounds is changed into flint stones. Brinton sees in the Great Rabbit and the Flint the opposing forces of day and night, light and darkness, locally personified as East and West, while in the twin gods of the Iroquois Hewitt sees the conflicting agents of heat and cold, summer and winter. Both conceptions are identical in the final analysis. Hewitt derives the Iroquois name from a root denoting “hail, ice, glass”; in Cherokee we have tawiskalÛÑ'i, tawi'skala, “flint,” tawi'ska, “smooth,” une'stalÛÑ, “ice.” (See Brinton, American Hero Myths, pp. 48, 56, 61; Hewitt, The Cosmogonic Gods of the Iroquois, in Proc. Am. Ass. Adv. Sci., XLIV, 1895.) In one of the Cherokee sacred formulas collected by the author occurs the expression: “The terrible Flint is coming. He has his paths laid down in this direction. He is shaking the red switches threateningly. Let us run toward the Sun land.” Siyu'—This word, abbreviated from Âsiyu', “good,” is the regular Cherokee salutation. With probably all the tribes the common salutation is simply the word “good,” and in the sign language of the plains the gesture conveying that meaning is used in the same way. The ordinary good-bye is usually some equivalent of “I go now.” 26. How the Deer got his horns (p. 275): This story was heard from Swimmer, Suyeta, and others, and is well known in the tribe. In a parallel Pawnee myth, “How the Deer Lost His Gall,” the Deer and Antelope wager their galls in a race, which the Antelope wins, but in sympathy takes off his own dewclaws and gives them to the Deer. In the Blackfoot variant the Deer and the Antelope run two races. The first, which is over the prairie, the Antelope wins and takes the Deer’s gall, while in the second, which the Deer stipulates shall be run through the timber, the Deer wins and takes the Antelope’s dewclaws (Grinnell, Pawnee Hero Tales, pp. 204, 205). 27. Why the Deer’s teeth are blunt (p. 276): This story follows the last in regular sequence and was told by the same informants. In a Jicarilla myth the Fox kills a dangerous Bear monster under pretense of trimming down his legs so that he can run faster (Russell, Myth of the Jicarilla, in Journal of American Folk-Lore, p. 262, October, 1898). 28. What became of the Rabbit (p. 277): This version was obtained from Suyeta, who says the Rabbit never went up, because he was “too mean” to be with the other animals. Swimmer, however, says that he did afterward go up to GalÛÑ'lati. The belief in a large rabbit still existing beyond a great river may possibly have its origin in indirect reports of the jack-rabbit west of the Missouri. The myth has close parallel in the southern negro story of “The Origin of the Ocean” (Harris, Nights with Uncle Remus), in which the Rabbit by a stratagem persuades the Lion to jump across a creek, when the Rabbit “cut de string w’at hol’ de banks togedder.... Co’se wen Brer Rabbit tuck’n cut de string, de banks er de creek, de banks dey fall back, dey did, en Mr Lion can’t jump back. De banks dey keep on fallin’ back, en de creek keep on gittin’ wider en wider, twel bimeby Brer Rabbit en Mr Lion ain’t in sight er one er n’er, en fum dat day to dis de big waters bin rollin’ ’twix um.” KÛ!—A Cherokee exclamation used as a starting signal and in introducing the paragraphs of a speech. It might be approximately rendered, Now! 29. Why the Mink smells (p. 277): Obtained from John Ax. 30. Why the Mole lives underground (p. 277): This story, from John Ax, not only accounts for the Mole’s underground habit, but illustrates a common Cherokee witchcraft belief, which has parallels all over the world. 31. The Terrapin’s escape from the Wolves (p. 278): This story, of which the version here given, from Swimmer and John Ax, is admittedly imperfect, is known also among the western Cherokee, having been mentioned by Wafford and others in the Nation, although for some reason none of them seemed able to fill in the details. A somewhat similar story was given as belonging to her own tribe by a Catawba woman married among the East Cherokee. It suggests number 21, “The Rabbit and the tar wolf,” and has numerous parallels. In the Creek version, in the Tuggle manuscript, the Terrapin ridicules a woman, who retaliates by crushing his shell with a corn pestle. He repairs the injury by singing a medicine song, but the scars remain in the checkered spots on his back. In a variant in the same collection the ants mend his shell with tar, in return for his fat and blood. Other parallels are among the Omaha, “How the Big Turtle went on the Warpath” (Dorsey, Contributions to North American Ethnology; VI, p. 275), and the Cheyenne, “The Turtle, the Grasshopper, and the Skunk” (Kroeber, Cheyenne Tales, in Journal of American Folk-Lore, July, 1900). The myth is recorded also from west Africa by Chatelain (“The Man and the Turtle,” in Folktales of Angola, 1894). Kanahe'na.—This is a sour corn gruel, the tamfuli or “Tom Fuller” of the Creeks, which is a favorite food preparation among all the southern tribes. A large earthern jar of kanahe'na, with a wooden spoon upright in it, is always upon a bench just inside the cabin door, for every visitor to help himself. 32. Origin of the Groundhog dance (p. 279): This story is from Swimmer, the supplementary part being added by John Ax. The Groundhog dance is one of those belonging to the great thanksgiving ceremony, Green-corn dance. It consists of alternate advances and retreats by the whole line of dancers in obedience to signals by the song leader, who sings to the accompaniment of a rattle. The burden of the song, which is without meaning, is Ha'wiye'ehi' Yaha'wiye'ehi [twice] Yu-u Hi'yagu'we Hahi'yagu'we [twice] Yu-yu. 33. The migration of the animals (p. 280): This little story is given just as related by AyÂsta, the only woman privileged to speak in council among the East Cherokee. A similar incident occurs in number 76, “The Bear Man.” According to one Cherokee myth concerning the noted Track Rock gap, near Blairsville in upper Georgia, the pictographs in the rocks there are the footprints of all sorts of birds and animals which once crossed over the gap in a great migration toward the south. 34. The Wolf’s revenge: The Wolf and the Dog (p. 280): These short stories from Swimmer illustrate the Cherokee belief that if a wolf be injured his fellows will surely revenge the injury. See also note to number 15, “The Fourfooted Tribes,” and number 3, “Kana'ti and Selu.” In a West African tale recorded by Chatelain (Folktales of Angola, 1894) the dog and the jackal are kinsmen, who live together in the bush until the jackal sends the dog to the village for fire. The dog goes, enters a house and is fed by a woman, and thereupon concludes to stay in the village, where there is always food. 35. The bird tribes (p. 280): The eagle killer—Of the Southern tribes generally Adair says: “They use the feathers of the eagle’s tail in certain friendly and religious dances, but the whole town will contribute, to the value of 200 deerskins, for killing a large eagle—the bald eagle they do not esteem—and the man also gets an honorable title for the exploit, as if he had brought in the scalp of an enemy.” Timberlake says that the Cherokee held the tail of an eagle in the greatest esteem, as these tails were sometimes given with the wampum in their treaties, and none of their warlike ceremonies could be performed without them (Memoirs, p. 81). The figurative expression, “a snowbird has been killed,” used to avoid offending the eagle tribe, is paralleled in the expression, “he has been scratched by a brier,” used by the Cherokee to mean, “he has been bitten by a snake.” Professional eagle killers existed among many tribes, together with a prescribed ceremonial for securing the eagle. The most common method was probably that described in a note to number 98, “Gana’s Adventures among the Cherokee.” A detailed account of the Blackfoot method is given by Grinnell, in his Blackfoot Lodge Tales, pp. 236–240. The eagle, being a bird of prey, as well as a sacred bird, was never eaten. The shifting of responsibility for the killing to a vicarious victim is a common feature of Indian formulas for obtaining pardon, especially for offenses against the animal tribe or the spirits of the dead. A remarkable parallel to the Cherokee prayer, from the Quichua of Peru, is given by Dr G. A. Dorsey. Having started, with a party of Indian laborers and a Spanish gentleman who was well acquainted with the native language, to examine some cave tombs near the ancient city of Cuzco, they had arrived at the spot and he was about to give the order to begin operations, when the Indians, removing their blankets and hats, knelt down and recited in unison in their own language a prayer to the spirits of the dead, of which the following translation is an extract: “Chiefs, sons of the sun, you and we are brothers, sons of the great Pachacamac. You only know this, but we know that three persons exist, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. This is the only difference between you and us.... Chiefs, sons of the sun, we have not come to disturb your tranquil sleep in this, your abode. We come only because we have been compelled by our superiors; toward them may you direct your vengeance and your curses.” Then followed sacrifices of coca leaves, aguardiente, and chicha, after which they called upon the snow-capped mountain to witness their affection for their ancestors, and were then ready to begin work (Dorsey, A Ceremony of the Quichuas of Peru, in Journal of American Folk-Lore, October, 1894). Night birds—Says Adair of the Southern tribes (History of the American Indians, p. 130, 1775): “They reckon all birds of prey, and birds of night, to be unclean and The hawk—This, being a bird of prey, was never eaten. The following incident is related by Adair, probably from the Chickasaw: “Not long ago when the Indians were making their winter’s hunt and the old women were without flesh meat at home, I shot a small fat hawk and desired one of them to take and dress it; but though I strongly importuned her by way of trial, she as earnestly refused it for fear of contracting pollution, which she called the ‘accursed sickness,’ supposing disease would be the necessary effect of such an impurity” (Hist. Am. Indians, p. 130). Chickadee and titmouse—Adair speaks of having once observed a party of Southern Indians “to be intimidated at the voice of a small uncommon bird, when it pitched and chirped on a tree over their camp” (op. cit., p. 26). At a conference with the Six Nations at Albany in 1775 the Oneida speaker said: “We, the Six Nations, have heard the voice of a bird called Tskleleli (Tsikilili'?), a news carrier, that came among us. It has told us that the path at the western connection, by Fort Stanwix, would be shut up by either one party or the other.” In reply, the commissioners said: “We apprehend the bird Tskleleli has been busy again; he seems to be a mischievous bird and ought not to be nourished or entertained” (New York Colonial Documents, VIII, pp. 612, 628, 1857). The bird name is in the Oneida dialect. Bruyas gives teksereri as the Mohawk name for the tomtit. 36. The ball game of the birds and animals (p. 286): This is one of the best-known animal stories and was heard with more or less of detail from John Ax, Swimmer, Suyeta, and A?wani'ta in the east, and from Wafford in the Territory. The Creeks and the Seminoles also, as we learn from the Tuggle manuscript collection, have stories of ball games by the birds against the fourfooted animals. In one story the bat is rejected by both sides, but is finally accepted by the fourfooted animals on account of his having teeth, and enables them to win the victory from the birds. The ballplay—The ballplay, a?ne'tsÂ, is the great athletic game of the Cherokee and the Gulf tribes, as well as with those of the St Lawrence and Great lakes. It need hardly be stated that it is not our own game of base ball, but rather a variety of tennis, the ball being thrown, not from the hand, but from a netted racket or pair of rackets. The goals are two sets of upright poles at either end of the ball ground, which is always a level grassy bottom beside a small stream. There is much accompanying ceremonial and conjuration, with a ball dance, in which the women take part, the night before. It is the same game by which the hostile tribes gained entrance to the British post at Mackinaw in 1763, and under the name of lacrosse has become the national game of Canada. It has also been adopted by the French Creoles of Louisiana under the name of raquette. In British Columbia it is held to be the favorite amusement of the people of the underworld (Teit, Thompson River Traditions, p. 116). In the southern states the numerous localities bearing the names of “Ballplay,” “Ball flat,” and “Ball ground,” bear witness to the Indian fondness for the game. Large sums were staked upon it, and there is even a tradition that a considerable territory in northern Georgia was won from the Creeks by the Cherokee in a ball game. For an extended description see the the author’s article “The Cherokee Ball Play,” in the American Anthropologist for April, 1890. Won the game—On account of their successful work on this occasion the Cherokee ballplayer invokes the aid of the bat and the flying squirrel, and also ties a small piece of the bat’s wing to his ball stick or fastens it to the frame over which the sticks are hung during the preliminary dance the night before. Gave the martin a gourd—The black house-martin is a favorite with the Cherokee, who attract it by fastening hollow gourds to the tops of long poles set up near their houses so that the birds may build their nests in them. In South Carolina, as far 37. How the Turkey got his beard (p. 287): This story is well known in the tribe and was heard from several informants. According to a Creek myth in the Tuggle collection the Turkey was once a warrior and still wears his last scalp from his neck. In another story of the same collection it is a man’s scalp which he seized from the Terrapin and accidentally swallowed as he ran off, so that it grew out from his breast. 38. Why the Turkey gobbles (p. 288): This story was first heard from John Ax (east) and afterward from Wafford (west). The grouse is locally called “partridge” in the southern Alleghenies. 39. How the Kingfisher got his bill (p. 288): The first version is from John Ax, the other from Swimmer. YÛÑwi tsunsdi'—“Little People,” another name for the NuÑne'hi (see number 78). These are not to be confounded with the Anisga'ya Tsunsdi', “Little Men,” or Thunder Boys. TugalÛ'na—A small slender-bodied spotted fish about four inches in length, which likes to lie upon the rocks at the bottom of the larger streams. The name refers to a gourd, from a fancied resemblance of the long nose to the handle of a gourd. 40. How the Partridge got his whistle (p. 289): This little story is well known in the tribe. Whistles and flutes or flageolets are in use among nearly all tribes for ceremonial and amusement purposes. The whistle, usually made from an eagle bone, was worn suspended from the neck. The flute or flageolet was commonly made from cedar wood. 41. How the Redbird got his color (p. 289): This short story was obtained from Cornelius Boudinot, a prominent mixed-blood of Tahlequah, and differs from the standard Cherokee myth, according to which the redbird is the transformed daughter of the Sun (see number 5, “The Daughter of the Sun”). Red paint—Much sacredness attaches, in the Indian mind, to red paint, the color being symbolic of war, strength, success, and spirit protection. The word paint, in any Indian language, is generally understood to mean red paint, unless it is otherwise distinctly noted. The Indian red paint is usually a soft hematite ore, found in veins of hard-rock formation, from which it must be dug with much labor and patience. In the western tribes everyone coming thus to procure paint makes a prayer beside the rock and hangs a small sacrifice upon a convenient bush or stick before beginning operations. 42. The Pheasant beating corn: The Pheasant dance (p. 290): The first of these little tales is from John Ax, the second from Swimmer. The pheasant (Bonasa umbella; Cherokee tluÑti'sti) is also locally called grouse or partridge. 43. The race between the Crane and the Hummingbird (p. 290): This story is a favorite one in the tribe, and was heard from several informants, both East and West. The sequel may surprise those who have supposed that woman has no rights in Indian society. In a Creek story under the same title, in the Tuggle collection, the rivals agree to fly from a certain spot on a stream to the spring at its head. The humming bird is obliged to follow the windings of the stream, but the crane takes a direct course above the trees and thus wins the race. Fly around the world—Not around a globe, but around the circumference of a disk, according to the Indian idea. 44. The Owl gets married (p. 291): Told by Swimmer. The three owls of the Cherokee country are known, respectively, as tskili' (i. e., “witch,” Bubo virginianus saturatus, great, dusky-horned owl), wa?huhu' (Megascops asio, screech owl), and uguku' (Syrnium nebulosum, hooting or barred owl). There is no generic term. The Cherokee say that there is almost no flesh upon the body of the hooting owl except upon the head. 45. The Huhu gets married (p. 292): This story was heard at different times from Swimmer, John Ax, and Ta'gwadihi'. The first named always gave in the proper place a very good imitation of the huhu call, drawing out the sau-h slowly, giving the hu, hu, hu, hu, hu, hu in quick, smothered tones, and ending with three chirps and a long whistle. From this and one or two other stories of similar import it would seem that the woman is the ruling partner in the Cherokee domestic establishment. Matches were generally arranged by the mother, and were conditional upon the consent of the girl (see notes to number 84, “The Man who Married the Thunder’s Sister”). The huhu of the Cherokee, so called from its cry, is the yellow-breasted chat (Icteria virens), also known as the yellow mocking bird on account of its wonderful mimic powers. 46. Why the Buzzard’s head is bare (p. 293): This story was told by Swimmer and other informants, and is well known. It has an exact parallel in the Omaha story of “Ictinike and the Buzzard” (Dorsey, in Contributions to North American Ethnology, vi). 47. The Eagle’s revenge (p. 293): This story, told by John Ax, illustrates the tribal belief and custom in connection with the eagle and the eagle dance, as already described in number 35, “The Bird Tribes,” and the accompanying notes. Drying pole—A pole laid horizontally in the forks of two upright stakes, planted firmly in the ground, for the purpose of temporarily hanging up game and fresh meat in the hunting camp, to protect it from wolves and other prey animals or to allow it to dry out before the fire. 48. The Hunter and the Buzzard (p. 294): Told by Swimmer. The custom of lending or exchanging wives in token of hospitality and friendship, on certain ceremonial occasions, or as the price of obtaining certain secret knowledge, was very general among the tribes, and has been noted by explorers and other observers, east and west, from the earliest period. 49. The snake tribe (p. 294): Rattlesnake—The custom of asking pardon of slain or offended animals has already been noted under number 15, “The Fourfooted Tribes,” and number 35, “The Bird Tribes” (eagle). Reverence for the rattlesnake was universal among the Indians, and has been repeatedly remarked by travelers in every part of the country. To go into a dissertation upon the great subject of serpent worship is not a part of our purpose. The missionary Washburn tells how, among the Cherokee of Arkansas, he was once riding along, accompanied by an Indian on foot, when they discovered a poisonous snake coiled beside the path. “I observed Blanket turned aside to avoid the serpent, but made no signs of attack, and I requested the interpreter to get down and kill it. He did so, and I then inquired of Blanket why he did not kill the serpent. He answered, ‘I never kill snakes and so the snakes never kill me; but I will tell you about it when you next come to see me.’” He kept his word soon after by relating as a personal experience (probably, in fact, an Indian dream) a long story of having once been conducted by a rattlesnake to an underground council of the rattlesnake tribe, where he found all the snakes lamenting over one of their number who had been recently killed by an Indian, and debating the method of punishment, which was executed a day or two later by inflicting a fatal bite upon the offender while engaged in the ballplay (Reminiscences, pp. 208–212). As told by the missionary, Adair, evidently confusing several Cherokee snake myths, speaks of some reputed gigantic rattlesnakes in the Cherokee mountains, with beautiful changing colors and great power of fascination, by which they drew into their jaws any living creature coming within their vision, and continues: “They call them and all of the rattlesnake kind, kings or chieftains of the snakes, and they allow one such to every different species of the brute creation. An old trader of Cheeowhee told me that for the reward of two pieces of stroud cloth he engaged a couple of young warriors to show him the place of their resort; but the headmen would not by any means allow it, on account of a superstitious tradition—for they fancy the killing of them would expose them to the danger of being bit by the other inferior species of the serpentine tribe, who love their chieftains and know by instinct those who maliciously killed them, as they fight only in their own defense and that of their young ones, never biting those who do not disturb them.” He mentions also an instance of a Chickasaw priest who, after having applied to his hands the juice of a certain plant, took up a rattlesnake without damage and laid it carefully in a hollow tree to prevent Adair’s killing it (History of the American Indians, pp. 237–238). Of the Carolina tribes generally, Lawson, in 1701, says: “As for killing of snakes, they avoid it if they lie in their way, because their opinion is that some of the serpents’ kindred would kill some of the savage’s relations that should destroy him” (History of Carolina, p. 341). Bartram says of the Seminoles, about 1775: “These people never kill the rattlesnake or any other serpent, saying, if they do so, the spirit of the killed snake will excite or influence his living kindred or relatives to revenge the injury or violence done to him when alive.” He recounts an amusing incident of his own experience where the Indians sent for him to come and kill a rattlesnake which had invaded their camp ground, and which they were afraid to disturb. Their request having been complied with, the Indians then insisted upon scratching him, according to the Indian custom, in order to let out some of his superabundant blood and courage, but were finally, with some difficulty, dissuaded from their purpose. “Thus it seemed that the whole was a ludicrous farce to satisfy their people and appease the manes of the dead rattlesnake” (Travels, pp. 258–261). The trader Henry (Travels, pp. 176–179) narrates a most interesting instance from among the Ojibwa of Lake Superior in 1764. While gathering wood near the camp he was startled by a sudden rattle, and looking down discovered a rattlesnake almost at his feet, with body coiled and head raised to strike. “I no sooner saw the snake, than I hastened to the canoe, in order to procure my gun; but, the Indians observing what I was doing, inquired the occasion, and being informed, begged me to desist. At the same time, they followed me to the spot, with their pipes and tobacco-pouches in their hands. On returning, I found the snake still coiled. “The Indians, on their part, surrounded it, all addressing it by turns, and calling it their grandfather; but yet keeping at some distance. During this part of the ceremony, they filled their pipes; and now each blew the smoke toward the snake, who, as it appeared to me, really received it with pleasure. In a word, after remaining coiled, and receiving incense, for the space of half an hour, it stretched itself along the ground, in visible good humor. Its length was between four and five feet. Having remained outstretched for some time, at last it moved slowly away, the Indians following it, and still addressing it by the title of grandfather, beseeching it to take care of their families during their absence, and to be pleased to open the heart of Sir William Johnson [the British Indian agent, whom they were about to visit], so that he might show them charity, and fill their canoe with rum. One of the chiefs added a petition, that the snake would take no notice of the insult which had been offered He adds that the appearance of the rattlesnake so far north was regarded as an extraordinary omen, and that very little else was spoken of for the rest of the evening. The next day, while steering across Lake Huron in their canoe, a terrible storm came up. “The Indians, beginning to be alarmed, frequently called on the rattlesnake to come to their assistance. By degrees the waves grew high; and at 11 o’clock it blew a hurricane, and we expected every moment to be swallowed up. From prayers, the Indians now proceeded to sacrifices, both alike offered to the god-rattlesnake, or manito-kinibic. One of the chiefs took a dog, and after tying its forelegs together, threw it overboard, at the same time calling on the snake to preserve us from being drowned, and desiring him to satisfy his hunger with the carcass of the dog. The snake was unpropitious, and the wind increased. Another chief sacrificed another dog, with the addition of some tobacco. In the prayer which accompanied these gifts, he besought the snake, as before, not to avenge upon the Indians the insult which he had received from myself, in the conception of a design to put him to death. He assured the snake, that I was absolutely an Englishman, and of kin neither to him nor to them. At the conclusion of this speech, an Indian, who sat near me, observed, that if we were drowned it would be for my fault alone, and that I ought myself to be sacrificed, to appease the angry manito, nor was I without apprehensions, that in case of extremity, this would be my fate; but, happily for me, the storm at length abated, and we reached the island safely.” The Delawares also, according to Heckewelder, called the rattlesnake grandfather and refrained from injuring him. He says: “One day, as I was walking with an elderly Indian on the banks of the Muskingum, I saw a large rattlesnake lying across the path, which I was going to kill. The Indian immediately forbade my doing so; ‘for,’ said he, ‘the rattlesnake is grandfather to the Indians, and is placed here on purpose to guard us, and to give us notice of impending danger by his rattle, which is the same as if he were to tell us, ‘look about.’ ‘Now,’ added he, ‘if we were to kill one of those, the others would soon know it, and the whole race would rise upon us and bite us.’ I observed to him that the white people were not afraid of this; for they killed all the rattlesnakes that they met with. On this he enquired whether any white man had been bitten by these animals, and of course I answered in the affirmative. ‘No wonder, then!’ replied he, ‘you have to blame yourselves for that. You did as much as declaring war against them, and you will find them in your country, where they will not fail to make frequent incursions. They are a very dangerous enemy; take care you do not irritate them in our country; they and their grandchildren are on good terms, and neither will hurt the other.’ These ancient notions have, however in a great measure died away with the last generation, and the Indians at present kill their grandfather, the rattlesnake, without ceremony, whenever they meet with him” (Indian Nations, p. 252). SalikwÂyi—“The old Tuscaroras had a custom, which they supposed would keep their teeth white and strong through life. A man caught a snake and held it by its head and tail. Then he bit it through, all the way from the head to the tail, and this kept the teeth from decay” (W. M. Beauchamp, Iroquois Notes, in Journal of American Folk-Lore, July, 1892). Send torrents of rain—The belief in a connection between the serpent and the rain-gods is well-nigh universal among primitive peoples, and need only be indicated here. 50. The Uktena and the ÛlÛÑsÛ'ti (p. 297): The belief in the great Uktena and the magic power of the ÛlÛÑsÛ'ti is firmly implanted in the Cherokee breast. The Uktena has its parallel in the Gitchi-Kenebig or Great Horned Serpent of the The earliest notice of the UlÛÑsÛ'ti is given by the young Virginian officer, Timberlake, who was sent upon a peace mission to the Cherokee in 1762, shortly after the close of their first war with the whites. He says (Memoirs, pp. 47–49): “They have many beautiful stones of different colours, many of which, I am apt to believe, are of great value; but their superstition has always prevented their disposing of them to the traders, who have made many attempts to that purpose; but as they use them in their conjuring ceremonies, they believe their parting with them or bringing them from home, would prejudice their health or affairs. Among others there is one in the possession of a conjurer, remarkable for its brilliancy and beauty, but more so for the extraordinary manner in which it was found. It grew, if we may credit the Indians, on the head of a monstrous serpent, whose retreat was, by its brilliancy, discovered; but a great number of snakes attending him, he being, as I suppose by his diadem, of a superior rank among the serpents, made it dangerous to attack him. Many were the attempts made by the Indians, but all frustrated, till a fellow more bold than the rest, casing himself in leather, impenetrable to the bite of the serpent or his guards, and watching a convenient opportunity, surprised and killed him, tearing his jewel from his head, which the conjurer has kept hid for many years, in some place unknown to all but two women, who have been offered large presents to betray it, but steadily refused, lest some signal judgment or mischance should follow. That such a stone exists, I believe, having seen many of great beauty; but I cannot think it would answer all the encomiums the Indians bestow upon it. The conjurer, I suppose, hatched the account of its discovery; I have however given it to the reader, as a specimen of an Indian story, many of which are much more surprising.” A few years later Adair gives us an account of the serpent and the stone. According to his statement the uktenas had their home in a deep valley between the heads of the Tuckasegee and the “northern branch of the lower Cheerake river” (i. e., the Little Tennessee), the valley being the deep defile of Nantahala, where, by reason of its gloomy and forbidding aspect, Cherokee tradition locates more than one legendary terror. With pardonable error he confounds the Uktena with the Chief of the Rattlesnakes. The two, however, are distinct, the latter being simply the head of the rattlesnake tribe, without the blazing carbuncle or the immense size attributed to the Uktena. “Between two high mountains, nearly covered with old mossy rocks, lofty cedars and pines, in the valleys of which the beams of the sun reflect a powerful heat, there are, as the natives affirm, some bright old inhabitants or rattlesnakes, of a more enormous size than is mentioned in history. They are so large and unwieldy, that they take a circle almost as wide as their length to crawl around in their shortest orbit; but bountiful nature compensates the heavy motion of their bodies, for, as they say, “The description the Indians give us of their colour is as various as what we are told of the camelion, that seems to the spectator to change its colour, by every different position he may view it in; which proceeds from the piercing rays of the light that blaze from their foreheads, so as to dazzle the eyes, from whatever quarter they post themselves—for in each of their heads, there is a large carbuncle, which not only repels, but they affirm, sullies the meridian beams of the sun. They reckon it so dangerous to disturb these creatures, that no temptation can induce them to betray their secret recess to the prophane. They call them and all of the rattlesnake kind, kings, or chieftains of the snakes, and they allow one such to every different species of the brute creation. An old trader of Cheeowhee told me, that for the reward of two pieces of stroud cloth, he engaged a couple of young warriors to shew him the place of their resort, but the head-men would not by any means allow it, on account of a superstitious tradition—for they fancy the killing of them would expose them to the danger of being bit by the other inferior species of that serpentine tribe, who love their chieftains, and know by instinct those who maliciously killed them, as they fight only in their own defence and that of their young ones, never biting those who do not disturb them.”—History of the American Indians, pp. 237–238. In another place (page 87) he tells us of an ulÛÑsÛti owned by a medicine-man who resided at Tymahse (Tomassee), a former Cherokee town on the creek of the same name near the present Seneca, South Carolina. “The above Cheerake prophet had a carbuncle near as big as an egg, which they said he found where a great rattlesnake lay dead, and that it sparkled with such surprising lustre as to illuminate his dark winter house, like strong flashes of continued lightning, to the great terror of the weak, who durst not upon any account approach the dreadful fire-darting place, for fear of sudden death. When he died it was buried along with him, according to custom, in the town of Tymahse, under the great beloved cabbin [seat], which stood in the westernmost part of that old fabric, where they who will run the risk of searching may luckily find it.” Hagar also mentions the “Oolunsade,” and says, on the authority of John Ax: “He who owns a crystal can call one of the Little People to him at any time and make him do his bidding. Sometimes when people are ill it is because some evil invisible being has taken possession of him. Then the Little Man called up by the crystal can be placed on guard near the ill man to prevent the evil spirit from re-entering after it has been expelled” (MS Stellar Legends of the Cherokee). The Southern Alleghenies, the old Cherokee country, abound with crystals of various kinds, as well as with minerals. The UlÛÑsÛ'ti is described as a triangular crystal about two inches long, flat on the bottom, and with slightly convex sides tapering up to a point, and perfectly transparent with the exception of a single red streak running through the center from top to bottom. It is evidently a rare and beautiful specimen of rutile quartz, crystals of which, found in the region, may be seen in the National Museum at Washington. Other small stones of various shapes and color are in common use among the Cherokee conjurers to discover lost articles or for other occult purposes. These also are frequently called by the same name, and are said to have been originally the scales of the Uktena, but the UlÛÑsÛ'ti—the talisman from the forehead of the serpent—is the crystal here described, and is so exceedingly rare that so far as is known only one remained among the East Cherokee in 1890. Its owner, a famous hunter, kept it hidden in a cave, wrapped up in a deerskin, but refused all inducements to show it, much less to part with it, stating that if he should expose it to the gaze of a white man he could kill no more game, even were he permitted to live after such a sacrilege. The possession of the talisman insures success in hunting, love, rain making, and When consulting it the conjurer gazes into the crystal, and after some little time sees in its transparent depths a picture of the person or event in question. By the action of the specter, or its position near the top or bottom of the crystal, he learns not only the event itself, but also its nearness in time or place. Many of the East Cherokee who enlisted in the Confederate service during the late war consulted the UlÛÑsÛ'ti before starting, and survivors declare that their experiences verified the prediction. One of these had gone with two others to consult the fates. The conjurer, placing the three men facing him, took the talisman upon the end of his outstretched finger and bade them look intently into it. After some moments they saw their own images at the bottom of the crystal. The images gradually ascended along the red line. Those of the other two men rose to the middle and then again descended, but the presentment of the one who tells the story continued to ascend until it reached the top before going down again. The conjurer then said that the other two would die in the second year of the war, but the third would survive through hardships and narrow escapes and live to return home. As the prophecy, so the event. When consulted by the friends of a sick man to know if he will recover; the conjurer shows them the image of the sick man lying at the bottom of the UlÛÑsÛ'ti. He then tells them to go home and kill some game (or, in these latter days, any food animal) and to prepare a feast. On the appointed day the conjurer, at his own home, looks into the crystal and sees there the picture of the party at dinner. If the image of the sick man rises and joins them at the feast the patient will recover; if otherwise, he is doomed. 51. Âgan-uni'tsi’s search for the Uktena (p. 248): This is one of the most important of the Cherokee traditions, for the reason that it deals with the mythic monster, the Uktena, and explains the origin of the great talisman, the UlÛÑsÛ'ti. As here given it was obtained from Swimmer (east) with additions and variants from Wafford (west) and others. It is recorded by Ten Kate as obtained by him in the Territory (Legends of the Cherokees, in Journal of American Folk-Lore, January, 1889), and is mentioned in connection with the UlÛÑsÛ'ti, by Adair, in 1775, and by Timberlake as early as 1762 (see notes to number 50, “The Uktena and the UlÛÑsÛ'ti”). One variant makes the UlÛÑsÛ'ti a scale from the seventh ring of the serpent. The Shawano, who at one time occupied the Cumberland region of Tennessee immediately adjoining the Cherokee, were regarded as wizards by all the southern tribes. Brinton says: “Among the Algonkins the Shawnee tribe did more than all others combined to introduce and carry about religious legends and ceremonies. From the earliest times they seem to have had peculiar aptitude for the ecstacies, deceits, and fancies that make up the spiritual life of their associates. Their constantly roving life brought them in contact with the myths of many nations, and it is extremely probable that they first brought the tale of the horned serpent from the Creeks and Cherokees” (Myths of the New World, p. 137). Localities—UtawagÛn'ta mountain, WalÂsi'yi gap, Duniskwa?lgÛÑ'yi gap and AtagÂ'hi (mythic) lake, are all points in the Great Smoky range, which forms the dividing line between North Carolina and Tennessee. Tlanusi'yi is the native name for the site of Murphy, at the junction of Hiwassee and Valley rivers, North Carolina. GahÛ'ti is Cohutta mountain in Murray county, Georgia. According to Wafford there are on the sides of this mountain several stone inclosures which were built by Âgan-uni'tsi for shelter places before attacking the Uktena (see also Glossary). 52. The Red Man and the Uktena (p. 300): This story was obtained from John Asga'ya Gi'gage'i—The “Red Man,” or lightning spirit, who is frequently invoked in the sacred formulas. Struck by lightning—As has been explained elsewhere, the wood of a tree that has been struck by lightning plays an important part in Cherokee folklore. Strong and dangerous—It is a common article of Indian belief that the presence of a powerful talisman, no matter how beneficent in itself, is enervating or positively dangerous to those in its vicinity unless they be fortified by some ceremonial tonic. For this reason every great “medicine” is usually kept apart in a hut or tipi built for the purpose, very much as we are accustomed to store explosives at some distance from the dwelling or business house. 53. The Hunter and the Uksu'hi (p. 301): This story was told by Swimmer and John Ax as an actual fact. The uksu'hi is the mountain blacksnake or black racer (Coluber obsoletus). The name seems to refer to some peculiarity of the eye, akta (cf. uktena). Hickory-log, properly Wane'asÛÑ'tlÛÑyi, “Hickory footlog,” was a Cherokee settlement on Hiwassee river, near the present Hayesville, Clay county, North Carolina. Another of the same name was on Etowah river in Georgia. Perspiration—The Indian belief may or may not have foundation in fact. 54. The UstÛ'tli (p. 302): This story was told by Swimmer and John Ax (east) and by Wafford (west), and is a common tradition throughout the tribe. The name ustÛ'tli refers to the sole of the foot, and was given to the serpent on account of its peculiar feet or “suckers.” The same name is given to the common hoop-snake of the south (Abastor erythrogrammus), about which such wonderful tales are told by the white mountaineers. Cohutta (GahÛ'ti) mountain, in Murray county, Georgia, was also the traditional haunt of the Uktena (see number 51, “Âgan-Uni'tsi’s search for the Uktena,” and compare also number 55, “The Uw?tsÛÑ'ta.”) 55. The Uw?tsÛÑ'ta (p. 303): This story was obtained from James Blythe. NÛÑdaye'?i, whence Nantahala, was on the river of that name below the present Jarrett’s station. 56. The Snake Boy (p. 304): This myth was told by Swimmer. Âsi—The Cherokee Âsi, or “hot-house,” as it was called by the old traders, is the equivalent of the sweat-house of the western tribes. It is a small hut of logs plastered over with clay, with a shed roof, and just tall enough to permit a sitting or reclining, but not a standing, position inside. It is used for sweat-bath purposes, and as it is tight and warm, and a fire is usually kept smoldering within, it is a favorite sleeping place for the old people in cold weather. It is now nearly obsolete. 57. The Snake Man (p. 304): This myth, obtained from Chief Smith, seems designed to impress upon the laity the importance of a strict observance of the innumerable gaktÛÑ'ta, or tabus, which beset the daily life of the Cherokee, whether in health or sickness, hunting, war, or arts of peace (see the author’s “Sacred Formulas of the Cherokees,” in the Seventh Annual Report of the Bureau of Ethnology). Similar transformation myths are found all over the world. One of the most ancient is the story of Cadmus, in Ovid’s “Metamorphoses,” with the despair of the wife as she sees the snaky change come over her husband. “Cadmus, what means this? Where are thy feet? Where are both thy shoulders and thy hands? Where is thy color? and, while I speak, where all else besides?” In a Pawnee story given by Grinnell two brothers, traveling, camp for the night. The elder eats some tabued food, and wakes from his sleep to find that he is changing into a great rattlesnake, the change beginning at his feet. He rouses his brother and gives him his last instructions: “When I have changed into a snake, take me in your arms and carry me over to 58. The Rattlesnake’s vengeance (p. 305): This story, told by Swimmer, exemplifies the Indian reverence for the rattlesnake and dread of offending it already explained in number 49, “The Snake Tribe,” and the accompanying notes. Prayer song—See other references under number 3, “Kana'ti and Selu.” Many of the Indian ceremonial prayers and invocations are in the form of songs or chants. 59. The smaller reptiles, fishes, and insects (p. 306): Gi'ga-tsuha'?li—This lizard is probably the Pleistodon erythrocephalus, which is described in Holbrook’s “Herpetology” as being about 11 to 13 inches long, with bright red head, olive-brown body and tail, and yellowish-white throat and abdomen. “The Pleistodon erythrocephalus chooses his residence in deep forests, and is commonly found about hollow trees, often at a height of 30 or 40 feet from the ground, sometimes taking up his abode in the last year’s nest of the woodpecker, out of which he thrusts his bright red head in a threatening manner to those who would disturb his home. He never makes his habitation on or near the ground, and in fact seldom descends from his elevation unless in search of food or water. Though shy and timid, he is very fierce when taken, and bites severely, owing to the great strength of his jaws, as well as the size and firmness of the teeth. The bite, however, though sharp and painful, is not, as is commonly supposed, venomous.” Large horned beetle—This beetle, variously called by the Cherokee crawfish, deer or buck, on account of its branching horns, is probably the “flying stag” of early travelers. Says Timberlake: “Of insects, the flying stag is almost the only one worthy of notice. It is about the shape of a beetle, but has very large, beautiful, branching horns, like those of a stag, from whence it took its name” (Memoirs p. 46). Lawson, about 1700, also mentions “the flying stags, with horns,” among the insects of eastern Carolina. 60. Why the Bullfrog’s head is striped (p. 310): The first version is from John Ax, the second from Swimmer, who had forgotten the details. 61. The Bullfrog lover (p. 310): The first amusing little tale was heard from several story-tellers. The warning words are sometimes given differently, but always in a deep, gruff, singing tone, which makes a very fair imitation of a bullfrog’s note. The other stories were told by Tsesa'ni (Jessan) and confirmed by Swimmer. In a Creek variant of the first story, in the Tuggle collection, it is a pretty girl, who is obdurate until her lover, the Rabbit, conceals himself in the same way near the spring, with a blowgun for a trumpet, and frightens her into consent by singing out: “The girl who stays single will die, will die, will die.” 62. The Katydid’s warning (p. 311): Told by Swimmer and James Blythe. 63. ÛÑtsaiyi', the Gambler (p. 311): This story was obtained from Swimmer and John Ax (east), and confirmed also by James Wafford (west), who remembered, however, only the main points of the pursuit and final capture at KÂgÛÑ'yi. The two versions corresponded very closely, excepting that Ax sends the boy to the Sunset land to play against his brothers, while Swimmer brings them to meet him ÛÑtsaiyi'—In this name (sometimes E'tsaiyi' or Tsaiyi') the first syllable is almost silent and the vowels are prolonged to imitate the ringing sound produced by striking a thin sheet of metal. The word is now translated “brass,” and is applied to any object made of that metal. The mythic gambler, who has his counterpart in the mythologies of many tribes, is the traditional inventor of the wheel-and-stick game, so popular among the southern and eastern Indians, and variously known as gatayÛsti, chenco, or chÛnki (see note under number 3, “Kana'ti and Selu”). He lived on the south side of Tennessee river, at ÛÑ'tiguhi'. ÛÑ'tiguhi' or The Suck—The noted and dangerous rapid known to the whites as “The Suck” and to the Cherokee as ÛÑ'tiguhi', “Pot in the water,” is in Tennessee river, near the entrance of Suck creek, about 8 miles below Chattanooga, at a point where the river gathers its whole force into a contracted channel to break through the Cumberland mountain. The popular name, Whirl, or Suck, dates back at least to 1780, the upper portion being known at the same time as “The boiling pot” (Donelson diary, in Ramsey, Tennessee, p. 71), The Suck is thus described by a traveler in 1818, while the whole was still Indian country and Chattanooga was yet undreamed of: “And here, I cannot forbear pausing a moment to call your attention to the grand and picturesque scenery which opens to the view of the admiring spectator. The country is still possessed by the aborigines, and the hand of civilization has done but little to soften the wild aspect of nature. The Tennessee river, having concentrated into one mass the numerous streams it has received in its course of three or four hundred miles, glides through an extended valley with a rapid and overwhelming current, half a mile in width. At this place, a group of mountains stand ready to dispute its progress. First, the ‘Lookout,’ an independent range, commencing thirty miles below, presents, opposite the river’s course, its bold and rocky termination of two thousand feet. Around its brow is a pallisade [sic] of naked rocks, from seventy to one hundred feet. The river flows upon its base, and instantly twines to the right. Passing on for six miles farther it turns again, and is met by the side of the Rackoon mountain. Collecting its strength into a channel of seventy yards, it severs the mountain, and rushes tumultuously through the rocky defile, wafting the trembling navigator at the rate of a mile in two or three minutes. The passage is called ‘The Bet even his life—The Indian was a passionate gambler and there was absolutely no limit to the risks which he was willing to take, even to the loss of liberty, if not of life. Says Lawson (History of Carolina, p. 287): “They game very much and often strip one another of all they have in the world; and what is more, I have known several of them play themselves away, so that they have remained the winners’ servants till their relations or themselves could pay the money to redeem them.” His skin was clean—The idea of purification or cleansing through the efficacy of the sweat-bath is very common in Indian myth and ceremonial. In an Omaha story given by Dorsey the hero has been transformed, by witchcraft, into a mangy dog. He builds a sweat lodge, goes into it as a dog and sweats himself until, on his command, the people take off the blankets, when “Behold, he was not a dog; he was a very handsome man” (“Adventures of Hingpe-agce,” in Contributions to North American Ethnology, VI, p. 175). From the bottom—The choice of the most remote or the most insignificant appearing of several objects, as being really the most valuable, is another common incident in the myths. Honey-locust tree—The favorite honey-locust tree and the seat with thorns of the same species in the home of the Thunder Man may indicate that in Indian as in Aryan thought there was an occult connection between the pinnated leaves and the lightning, as we know to be the case with regard to the European rowan or mountain ash. All kinds of snakes—It will be remembered that the boy’s father was a thunder god. The connection between the snake and the rain or thunder spirit has already been noted. It appears also in number 84, “The Man who Married the Thunder’s Sister.” Elder brother—My elder brother (male speaking), ÛÑgini'li; my elder brother (female speaking), ÛÑgida'; thy two elder brothers (male speaking), tsetsani'li. Sunset land—The Cherokee word here used is WusÛhihÛÑ'yi, “there where they stay over night.” The usual expression in the sacred formula is usÛÑhi'yi, “the darkening, or twilight place”; the common word is wude'ligÛÑ'yi, “there where it (the sun) goes down.” Lightning at every stroke—In the Omaha myth of “The Chief’s Son and the Thunders,” given by Dorsey, some young men traveling to the end of the world meet a Thunder Man, who bids the leader to select one of four medicine bags. Having been warned in advance, he selects the oldest, but most powerful, and is then given also a club which causes thunder whenever flourished in the air (Contributions to North American Ethnology, VI, p. 185). Strike the rock—This method of procuring water is as old at least as the book of Exodus. The brass rubbed off—The beautiful metallic luster on the head of PhanÆus carnifex is thus accounted for. The common roller beetle is called “dung roller,” but this species is distinguished as the “horned, brass” beetle. It is also sometimes spoken of as the dog of the Thunder Boys. Beavers gnaw at the grapevine—Something like this is found among the Cheyenne: “The earth rests on a large beam or post. Far in the north there is a beaver as white as snow who is a great father of all mankind. Some day he will gnaw through the support at the bottom. We shall be helpless and the earth will fall. This will happen when he becomes angry. The post is already partly eaten through. For 64. The nest of the Tla'nuwa (p. 315): This story was obtained first from John Ax and Ta'gwadihi', and was afterward heard of frequently in connection with the cave at Citico. It is mentioned by Ten Kate in “Legends of the Cherokees,” obtained in the Indian Territory, in the Journal of American Folk-Lore, January, 1889. Tla'nuwa—The Tla'nuwa (Tsa'nuwa or SÛ'nawa in the Middle dialect) is a mythic bird, described as a great hawk, larger than any bird now existing. There is a small hawk called tla'nuwa usdi', “little tla'nuwa,” which is described as its smaller counterpart or image, and which the Cherokee say accompanies flocks of wild pigeons, occasionally when hungry swooping down and killing one by striking it with its sharp breast bone. It is probably the goshawk (Astur atricapillus). The great Tla'nuwa, like the other animals, “went up.” According to Adair (History of the American Indians, p. 17) the Cherokee used to compare a miserly person to a “sinnawah.” When John Ax first recited the story he insisted that the whites must also believe it, as they had it pictured on their money, and holding up a silver coin, he triumphantly pointed out what he claimed was the figure of the Tla'nuwa, holding in its talons the arrows and in its beak the serpent. He was not so far wrong, as it is well known that the Mexican coat of arms, stamped upon the coins of the republic, has its origin in a similar legend handed down from the Aztec. Myths of dangerous monster serpents destroyed by great birds were common to a number of tribes. The Tuscarora, formerly eastern neighbors of the Cherokee, told “a long tale of a great rattlesnake, which, a great while ago, lived by a creek in that river, which was Neus, and that it killed abundance of Indians; but at last a bald eagle killed it, and they were rid of a serpent that used to devour whole canoes full of Indians at a time” (Lawson, Carolina, p. 346). Tla'nuwa'i—“Tla'nuwa place,” the cliff so called by the Cherokee, with the cave half way up its face, is on the north bank of Little Tennessee river, a short distance below the entrance of the Citico creek, on land formerly belonging to Colonel John Lowrey, one of the Cherokee officers at the battle of the Horseshoe bend (Wafford). Just above, but on the opposite side of the river, is U?tlÛÑti'yi, the former haunt of the cannibal liver eater (see number 66, “U?tlÛÑta, the Spear-finger”). Soon after the creation—As John Ax put it, adopting the Bible expression, Hilahi'yu dine'tlana a'nigwa—“A long time ago the creation soon after.” Rope of linn bark—The old Cherokee still do most of their tying and packing with ropes twisted from the inner bark of trees. In one version of the story the medicine-man uses a long udÂ'i or cohosh (ActÆa?) vine. Holes are still there—The place which the Cherokee call Tla'nuwa-a'tsiyelÛÑisÛÑ'yi, “Where the Tla'nuwa cut it up,” is nearly opposite Citico, on Little Tennessee river, just below Talassee ford, in Blount county, Tennessee. The surface of the rock bears a series of long trenchlike depressions, extending some distance, which, according to the Indians, are the marks where the pieces bitten from the body of the great serpent were dropt by the Tla'nuwa. 65. The hunter and the Tla'nuwa (p. 316): This myth was told by Swimmer. 66. U?tlÛÑ'ta, the Spear-finger (p. 316): This is one of the most noted among the Cherokee myths, being equally well known both east and west. The version here given was obtained from John Ax, with some corrections and additions from Swimmer, Wafford (west) and others. A version of it, “The Stone-shields,” in which the tomtit is incorrectly made a jay, is given by Ten Kate, in his “Legends of the Cherokees,” in the Journal of American Folk-Lore for January, 1889, as obtained from a mixed-blood informant in Tahlequah. Another version, “The Demon of There is some confusion between this story of U?tlÛÑ'ta and that of NÛÑ'yunu'wi (number 67). According to some myth tellers the two monsters were husband and wife and lived together, and were both alike dressed in stone, had awl fingers and ate human livers, the only difference being that the husband waylaid hunters, while his female partner gave her attention to children. This story has a close parallel in the Creek myth of the Tuggle collection, “The Big Rock Man,” in which the people finally kill the stony monster by acting upon the advice of the Rabbit to shoot him in the ear. Far away, in British Columbia, the Indians tell how the Coyote transformed himself to an Elk, covering his body with a hard shell. “Now this shell was like an armor, for no arrow could pierce it; but being hardly large enough to cover all his body, there was a small hole left underneath his throat.” He attacks the people, stabbing them with his antlers and trampling them under foot, while their arrows glance harmlessly from his body, until “the Meadow-lark, who was a great telltale, appeared and cried out, ‘There is just a little hole at his throat!’” A hunter directs his arrow to that spot and the Elk falls dead (Teit, Thompson River Traditions, pp. 33–34). U?tlÛÑ'ta—The word means literally “he (or she) has it sharp,” i. e., has some sharp part or organ. It might be used of a tooth or finger nail or some other attached portion of the body, but here refers to the awl-like finger. Ten Kate spells the name Uilata. On Little Tennessee river, nearly opposite the entrance of Citico creek, in Blount county, Tennessee, is a place which the Cherokee call U?tlÛÑtÛÑ'yi, “Sharp-finger place,” because, they say, U?tlÛÑ'ta used to frequent the spot. NÛÑyÛ'-tlu?gÛÑ'i—“Tree rock,” so called on account of its resemblance to a standing tree trunk; a notable monument-shape rock on the west side of Hiwassee river, about four miles above Hayesville, North Carolina, and nearly on the Georgia line. Whiteside mountain—This noted mountain, known to the Cherokee as SanigilÂ'gi, a name for which they have no meaning, is one of the prominent peaks of the Blue ridge, and is situated southeast from Franklin and about four miles from Highlands, or the dividing line between Macon and Jackson counties, North Carolina. It is 4,900 feet high, being the loftiest elevation on the ridge which forms the watershed between the tributaries of the Little Tennessee and the Chattooga branch of Savannah. It takes its name from the perpendicular cliff on its western exposure, and is also known sometimes as the Devil’s courthouse. The Indians compare the appearance of the cliff to that of a sheet of ice, and say that the western summit was formerly crowned by a projecting rock, since destroyed by lightning, which formed a part of the great bridge which U?tlÛÑ'ta attempted to build across the valley. Lanman’s description of this mountain, in 1848, has been quoted in the notes to number 13, “The Great Yellow-jacket.” Following is a notice by a later writer: “About five miles from Highlands is that huge old cliff, Whitesides, which forms the advanced guard of all the mountain ranges trending on the south. It is no higher than the Righi, but, like it, rising direct from the plain, it overpowers the spectator more than its loftier brethren. Through all the lowlands of upper Georgia and Alabama this dazzling white pillar of rock, uplifting the sky, is an emphatic and significant landmark. The ascent can be made on horseback, on the rear side of the mountain, to within a quarter of a mile of the summit. When the top is reached, after a short stretch of nearly perpendicular climbing, the traveler finds himself on Picking strawberries—For more than a hundred years, as readers of Bartram will remember, the rich bottom lands of the old Cherokee country have been noted for their abundance of strawberries and other wild fruits. My grandchildren—As in most Indian languages, Cherokee kinship terms are usually specialized, and there is no single term for grandchild. “My son’s child” is ÛÑgini'si, plural tsÛÑgini'si; “my daughter’s child” is ÛÑgili'si, plural tsÛÑgili'si. The use of kinship terms as expressive of affection or respect is very common among Indians. Taking the appearance—This corresponds closely with the European folk-belief in fairy changelings. To burn the leaves—The burning of the fallen leaves in the autumn, in order to get at the nuts upon the ground below, is still practiced by the white mountaineers of the southern Alleghenies. The line of fire slowly creeping up the mountain side upon a dark night is one of the picturesque sights of that picturesque country. The song—As rendered by Swimmer, the songs seem to be intended for an imitation of the mournful notes of some bird, such as the turtle dove, hidden in the deep forests. Pitfall—The pitfall trap for large game was known among nearly all the tribes, but seems not to have been in frequent use. Chickadee and tomtit—These two little birds closely resemble each other, the Carolina chickadee (Parus carolinensis) or tsikilili being somewhat smaller than the tufted titmouse (Parus bicolor) or utsu?gi, which is also distinguished by a topknot or crest. The belief that the tsikilili foretells the arrival of an absent friend is general among the Cherokee, and has even extended to their neighbors, the white mountaineers. See also number 35, “The Bird Tribes,” and accompanying notes. Her heart—The conception of a giant or other monster whose heart or “life” is in some unaccustomed part of the body, or may even be taken out and laid aside at will, so that it is impossible to kill the monster by ordinary means, is common in Indian as well as in European and Asiatic folklore. In a Navaho myth we are told that the Coyote “did not, like other beings, keep his vital principle in his chest, where it might easily be destroyed. He kept it in the tip of his nose and in the end of his tail, where no one would expect to find it.” He meets several accidents, any one of which would be sufficient to kill an ordinary creature, but as his nose and tail remain intact he is each time resurrected. Finally a girl whom he wishes to marry beats him into small pieces with a club, grinds the pieces to powder, and scatters the powder to the four winds. “But again she neglected to crush the point of the nose and the tip of the tail,” with the result that the Coyote again comes to life, when of course they are married and live happily until the next chapter (Matthews, Navaho Legends, pp. 91–94). In a tale of the Gaelic highlands the giant’s life is in an egg which he keeps concealed in a distant place, and not until the hero finds and crushes the egg does the giant die. The monster or hero with but one vulnerable spot, as was the case with Achilles, is also a common concept. 67. NÛÑyunu'wi, the Stone Man (p. 319): This myth, although obtained from Swimmer, the best informant in the eastern band, is but fragmentary, for the reason that he confounded it with the somewhat similar story of U?tlÛÑ'ta (number 66). It was mentioned by AyÂsta and others (east) and by Wafford (west) as a very old NÛÑyunu'wi, “Dressed in stone”; adÂ'lanÛÑsti, a staff or cane; asÛÑ'tli, asÛÑ'tlÛÑi, a foot log or bridge; ada'wehi, a great magician or supernatural wonder-worker; see the glossary. A very close parallel is found among the Iroquois, who have traditions of an invasion by a race of fierce cannibals known as the Stonish Giants, who, originally like ordinary humans, had wandered off into the wilderness, where they became addicted to eating raw flesh and wallowing in the sand until their bodies grew to gigantic size and were covered with hard scales like stone, which no arrow could penetrate (see Cusick, in Schoolcraft, Indian Tribes, V, p. 637). One of these, which preyed particularly upon the Onondaga, was at last taken in a pitfall and thus killed. Another, in tracking his victims used “something which looked like a finger, but was really a pointer made of bone. With this he could find anything he wished.” The pointer was finally snatched from him by a hunter, on which the giant, unable to find his way without it, begged piteously for its return, promising to eat no more men and to send the hunter long life and good luck for himself and all his friends. The hunter thereupon restored it and the giant kept his promises (Beauchamp, W. M., Iroquois Notes, in Journal of American Folk-Lore, Boston, July, 1892.) As told by Mrs Smith (“The Stone Giant’s Challenge,” Myths of the Iroquois, in Second Annual Report of the Bureau of Ethnology, 1883), the pointer was a human finger. “He placed it upright upon his hand, and it immediately pointed the way for him to go.” Menstrual woman—Among all our native tribes it is believed that there is something dangerous or uncanny in the touch or presence of a menstrual woman. Hence the universal institution of the “menstrual lodge,” to which the woman retires at such periods, eating, working, and sleeping alone, together with a host of tabus and precautions bearing upon the same subject. Nearly the same ideas are held in regard to a pregnant woman. Sourwood stakes—Cherokee hunters impale meat upon sourwood (Oxydendrum) stakes for roasting, and the wood is believed, also, to have power against the spells of witches. Began to talk—The revealing of “medicine” secrets by a magician when in his final agony is a common incident in Indian myths. Whatever he prayed for—Swimmer gives a detailed statement of the particular petition made by several of those thus painted. Painting the face and body, especially with red paint, is always among Indians a more or less sacred performance, usually accompanied with prayers. 68. The hunter in the Dakwa'—This story was told by Swimmer and Ta'gwadihi' and is well known in the tribe. The version from the Wahnenauhi manuscript differs considerably from that here given. In the Bible translation the word dakwa' is used as the equivalent of whale. Haywood thus alludes to the story (Nat. and Aborig. Hist. Tenn., p. 244): “One of the ancient traditions of the Cherokees is that once a whale swallowed a little boy, and after some time spewed him upon the land.” It is pretty certain that the Cherokee formerly had some acquaintance with whales, which, about the year 1700, according to Lawson, were “very numerous” on the coast of North Carolina, being frequently stranded along the shore, so that settlers derived considerable profit from the oil and blubber. He enumerates four species there known, and adds a general statement that “some Indians in America” hunted them at sea (History of Carolina, pp. 251–252). In almost every age and country we find a myth of a great fish swallowing a man, In an Ojibwa story, the great Manabozho is swallowed, canoe and all, by the king of the fishes. With his war club he strikes repeated blows upon the heart of the fish, which attempts to spew him out. Fearing that he might drown in deep water, Manabozho frustrates the endeavor by placing his canoe crosswise in the throat of the fish, and continues striking at the heart until the monster makes for the shore and there dies, when the hero makes his escape through a hole which the gulls have torn in the side of the carcass (Schoolcraft, Algic Researches, I, pp. 145–146). 69. AtagÂ'hi, the enchanted lake (p. 321): This story was heard from Swimmer, Ta'gwadihi', and others, and is a matter of familiar knowledge to every hunter among the East Cherokee. If Indian testimony be believed there is actually a large bare flat of this name in the difficult recesses of the Great Smoky mountains on the northern boundary of Swain county, North Carolina, somewhere between the heads of Bradleys fork and Eagle creek. It appears to be a great resort for bears and ducks, and is perhaps submerged at long intervals, which would account for the legend. Prayer, fasting, and vigil—In Indian ritual, as among the Orientals and in all ancient religions, these are prime requisites for obtaining clearness of spiritual vision. In almost every tribe the young warrior just entering manhood voluntarily subjected himself to an ordeal of this kind, of several days’ continuance, in order to obtain a vision of the “medicine” which was to be his guide and protector for the rest of his life. 70. The bride from the south (p. 322): This unique allegory was heard from both Swimmer and Ta'gwadihi' in nearly the same form. Hagar also (MS Stellar Legends of the Cherokee) heard something of it from AyÂsta, who, however, confused it with the Hagar variant of number 11, “The Milky Way” (see notes to number 11). In a myth from British Columbia, “The Hot and the Cold Winds,” the cold-wind people of the north wage war with the hot-wind people of the south, until the Indians, whose country lay between, and who constantly suffer from both sides, bring about a peace, to be ratified by a marriage between the two parties. Accordingly, the people of the south send their daughter to marry the son of the north. The two are married and have one child, whom the mother after a time decides to take with her to visit her own people in the north. Her visit ended, she starts on her return, accompanied by her elder brother. “They embarked in a bark canoe for the country of the cold. Her brother paddled. After going a long distance, and while crossing a great lake, the cold became so intense that her brother could not endure it any longer. He took the child from his sister and threw it into the water. Immediately the air turned warm and the child floated on the water as a lump of ice.”—Teit, Traditions of the Thompson River Indians, pp. 55, 56. 71. The Ice Man (p. 322): This story, told by Swimmer, may be a veiled tradition of a burning coal mine in the mountains, accidentally ignited in firing the woods in the fall, according to the regular Cherokee practice, and finally extinguished by a providential rainstorm. One of Buttrick’s Cherokee informants told him that “a great while ago a part of the world was burned, though it is not known now how, or by whom, but it is said that other land was formed by washing in from the mountains” (Antiquities, p. 7). When the French built Fort Caroline, near the present Charleston, South Carolina, in 1562, an Indian village was in the vicinity, but shortly afterward the chief, with all his people, removed to a considerable distance in consequence of a strange Volcanic activities, some of very recent date, have left many traces in the Carolina mountains. A mountain in Haywood county, near the head of Fines creek, has been noted for its noises and quakings for nearly a century, one particular explosion having split solid masses of granite as though by a blast of gunpowder. These shocks and noises used to recur at intervals of two or three years, but have not now been noticed for some time. In 1829 a violent earthquake on Valley river split open a mountain, leaving a chasm extending for several hundred yards, which is still to be seen. Satoola mountain, near Highlands, in Macon county, has crevices from which smoke is said to issue at intervals. In Madison county there is a mountain which has been known to rumble and smoke, a phenomenon with which the Warm springs in the same county may have some connection. Another peak, known as Shaking or Rumbling bald, in Rutherford county, attracted widespread attention in 1874 by a succession of shocks extending over a period of six months (see Zeigler and Grosscup, Heart of the Alleghanies, pp. 228–229). 72. The Hunter and Selu (p. 323): The explanation of this story, told by Swimmer, lies in the myth which derives corn from the blood of the old woman Selu (see number 3, “Kana'ti and Selu”). In Iroquois myth the spirits of Corn, Beans, and Squash are three sisters. Corn was originally much more fertile, but was blighted by the jealousy of an evil spirit. “To this day, when the rustling wind waves the corn leaves with a moaning sound, the pious Indian fancies that he hears the Spirit of Corn, in her compassion for the red man, still bemoaning with unavailing regrets her blighted fruitfulness” (Morgan, League of the Iroquois, p. 162). See number 126, “Plant Lore,” and accompanying notes. 73. The Underground Panthers (p. 324): This story was told by John Ax. For an explanation of the Indian idea concerning animals see number 15, “The Four-footed Tribes,” and number 76, “The Bear Man.” Several days—The strange lapse of time, by which a period really extending over days or even years seems to the stranger under the spell to be only a matter of a few hours, is one of the most common incidents of European fairy recitals, and has been made equally familiar to American readers through Irving’s story of Rip Van Winkle. 74. The Tsundige'wi (p. 325): This curious story was told by Swimmer and Ta'gwadihi' (east) and Wafford (west). Swimmer says the dwarfs lived in the west, but Ta'gwadihi' and Wafford locate them south from the Cherokee country. A story which seems to be a variant of the same myth was told to the Spanish adventurer Ayllon by the Indians on the South Carolina coast in 1520, and is thus given in translation from Peter Martyr’s Decades, in the Discovery and Conquest of Florida, ninth volume of the Hakluyt Society’s publications, pages XV-XVI, London, 1851. “Another of Ayllon’s strange stories refers to a country called Inzignanin, ... The inhabitauntes, by report of their ancestors, say, that a people as tall as the length of a man’s arme, with tayles of a spanne long, sometime arrived there, brought thither by sea, which tayle was not movable or wavering, as in foure-footed beastes, but solide, broad above, and sharpe beneath, as wee see in fishes and crocodiles, and extended into a bony hardness. Wherefore, when they desired to sitt, they used seates with holes through them, or wanting them, digged upp the earth a spanne deepe or little more, they must convay their tayle into the hole when they rest them.” It is given thus in Barcia, Ensayo, page 5: “Tambien llegaron a la Provincia de Yncignavin adonde les contaron aquellos Indios, que en cierto tiempo, avian aportado À ella, unas Gentes, que tenian Cola ... de una quarta de largo, flexible, que les estorvaba tanto, que para sentarse agujereaban los asientos: que el Pellejo era mui aspero, y como escamoso, y que comÌan solo Peces crudos: y aviendo estos muerto, se acabÒ esta Nacion, y la Verdad del Caso, con ella.” A close parallel to the Cherokee story is found among the Nisqualli of Washington, in a story of three [four?] brothers, who are captured by a miraculously strong dwarf who ties them and carries them off in his canoe. “Having rounded the distant point, where they had first descried him, they came to a village inhabited by a race of people as small as their captor, their houses, boats and utensils being all in proportion to themselves. The three brothers were then taken out and thrown, bound as they were, into a lodge, while a council was convened to decide upon their fate. During the sitting of the council an immense flock of birds, resembling geese, but much larger, pounced down upon the inhabitants and commenced a violent attack. These birds had the power of throwing their sharp quills like the porcupine, and although the little warriors fought with great valour, they soon became covered with the piercing darts and all sunk insensible on the ground. When all resistance has ceased, the birds took to flight and disappeared. The brothers had witnessed the conflict from their place of confinement, and with much labour had succeeded in releasing themselves from their bonds, when they went to the battle ground, and commenced pulling the quills from the apparently lifeless bodies; but no sooner had they done this, than all instantly returned to consciousness” (Kane, Wanderings of an Artist, pp. 252–253). 75. Origin of the Bear (p. 325): This story was told by Swimmer, from whom were also obtained the hunting songs, and was frequently referred to by other informants. The Ani'-TsÂ'gÛhi are said to have been an actual clan in ancient times. For parallels, see number 76, “The Bear Man.” Had not taken human food—The Indian is a thorough believer in the doctrine that “man is what he eats.” Says Adair (History of the American Indians, p. 133): “They believe that nature is possessed of such a property as to transfuse into men and animals the qualities, either of the food they use or of those objects that are presented to their senses. He who feeds on venison is, according to their physical system, swifter and more sagacious than the man who lives on the flesh of the clumsy bear or helpless dunghill fowls, the slow-footed tame cattle, or the heavy wallowing swine. This is the reason that several of their old men recommend and say that formerly their greatest chieftains observed a constant rule in their diet, and seldom ate of any animal of a gross quality or heavy motion of body, fancying it conveyed a dullness through the whole system and disabled them from exerting themselves with proper vigour in their martial, civil, and religious duties.” A continuous adherence to the diet commonly used by a bear will finally give to the eater the bear nature, if not also the bear form and appearance. A certain term of “white man’s food” will give the Indian the white man’s nature, so that neither the remedies nor the spells of the Indian doctor will have any effect upon him (see the author’s “Sacred Formulas of the Cherokees,” in Seventh Annual Report of the Bureau of Ethnology, 1891). Shall live always—For explanation of the doctrine of animal reincarnation, see number 15, “The Four-footed Tribes.” The songs—These are fair specimens of the hunting songs found in every tribe, and intended to call up the animals or to win the favor of the lords of the game (see also deer songs in notes to number 3, “Kana'ti and Selu”). As usual, the word forms are slightly changed to suit the requirements of the tune. The second song was first published by the author in the paper on sacred formulas, noted above. Tsistu'yi, 76. The Bear Man (p. 327): This story was obtained first from John Ax, and has numerous parallels in other tribes, as well as in European and oriental folklore. The classic legend of Romulus and Remus and the stories of “wolf boys” in India will at once suggest themselves. Swimmer makes the trial of the hunter’s weapons by the bears a part of his story of the origin of disease and medicine (number 4), but says that it may have happened on this occasion (see also number 15, “The Four-footed Tribes,” and notes to number 75, “Origin of the Bear”). In a strikingly similar Creek myth of the Tuggle collection, “Origin of the Bear Clan,” a little girl lost in the woods is adopted by a she-bear, with whom she lives for four years, when the bear is killed by the hunter and the girl returns to her people to become the mother of the Bear clan. The Iroquois have several stories of children adopted by bears. In one, “The Man and His Stepson,” a boy thus cared for is afterward found by a hunter, who tames him and teaches him to speak, until in time he almost forgets that he had lived like a bear. He marries a daughter of the hunter and becomes a hunter himself, but always refrains from molesting the bears, until at last, angered by the taunts of his mother-in-law, he shoots one, but is himself killed by an accident while on his return home (Smith, Myths of the Iroquois, in Second Annual Report Bureau of Ethnology). In line with this is the story of a hunter who had pursued a bear into its den. “When some distance in he could no longer see the bear, but he saw a fire and around it sat several men. The oldest of the three men looked up and asked, ‘Why did you try to shoot one of my men. We sent him out to entice you to us’” (Curtin, Seneca MS in Bureau of American Ethnology archives). In a Pawnee myth, “The Bear Man,” a boy whose father had put him under the protection of the bears grows up with certain bear traits and frequently prays and sacrifices to these animals. On a war party against the Sioux he is killed and cut to pieces, when two bears find and recognize the body, gather up and arrange the pieces and restore him to life, after which they take him to their den, where they care for him and teach him their secret knowledge until he is strong enough to go home (Grinnell, Pawnee Hero Stories, pp. 121–128). In a Jicarilla myth, “Origin and Destruction of the Bear,” a boy playing about in animal fashion runs into a cave in the hillside. “When he came out his feet and hands had been transformed into bear’s paws.” Four times this is repeated, the change each time mounting higher, until he finally emerges as a terrible bear monster that devours human beings (Russell, Myths of the Jicarilla, in Journal of American Folk-Lore, October, 1898). Read the thoughts—Thought reading is a very common feature of Indian myths. Certain medicine ceremonies are believed to confer the power upon those who fulfil the ordeal conditions. Food was getting scarce—Several references in the myths indicate that, through failure of the accustomed wild crops, famine seasons were as common among the animal tribes as among the Indians (see number 33, “The Migration of the Animals”). KalÂs'-GÛnahi'ta—See number 15, “The Four-footed Tribes.” Rubbed his stomach—This very original method of procuring food occurs also in number 3, “Kana'ti and Selu.” Topknots and Splitnoses—Tsuni'stsahi', “Having topknots”—i. e., Indians, in allusion to the crests of upright hair formerly worn by warriors of the Cherokee and other eastern tribes. Timberlake thus describes the Cherokee warrior’s headdress in 1762: “The hair of their head is shaved, tho’ many of the old people have it plucked out by the roots, except a patch on the hinder part of the head about twice the bigness of a crown piece, which is ornamented with beads, feathers, wampum, stained deer’s hair, and such like baubles” (Memoirs, p. 49). TsunÛ'?liyÛ' sÛnestlÂ'ta, “they have split noses”—i. e., dogs. Cover the blood—The reincarnation of the slain animal from the drops of blood spilt upon the ground or from the bones is a regular part of Cherokee hunting belief, and the same idea occurs in the folklore of many tribes. In the Omaha myth, “Ictinike and the Four Creators,” the hero visits the Beaver, who kills and cooks one of his own children to furnish the dinner. When the meal was over “the Beaver gathered the bones and put them into a skin, which he plunged beneath the water. In a moment the youngest beaver came up alive out of the water” (Dorsey, in Contributions to North American Ethnology, VI, p. 557). Like a man again—It is a regular article of Indian belief, which has its parallels in European fairy lore, that one who has eaten the food of the spirit people or supernaturals can not afterward return to his own people and live, unless at once, and sometimes for a long time, put under a rigid course of treatment intended to efface the longing for the spirit food and thus to restore his complete human nature. See also number 73, “The Underground Panthers.” In “A Yankton Legend,” recorded by Dorsey, a child falls into the water and is taken by the water people. The father hears the child crying under the water and employs two medicine men to bring it back. After preparing themselves properly they go down into the deep water, where they find the child sitting beside the water spirit, who, when they declare their message, tells them that if they had come before the child had eaten anything he might have lived, but now if taken away “he will desire the food which I eat; that being the cause of the trouble, he shall die.” They return and report: “We have seen your child, the wife of the water deity has him. Though we saw him alive, he had eaten part of the food which the water deity eats, therefore the water deity says that if we bring the child back with us out of the water he shall die,” and so it happened. Some time after the parents lose another child in like manner, but this time “she did not eat any of the food of the water deity and therefore they took her home alive.” In each case a white dog is thrown in to satisfy the water spirits for the loss of the child (Contributions to North American Ethnology, VI, p. 357). 77. The Great Leech of Tlanusi'yi (p. 329): This legend was heard first from Swimmer and Chief Smith, the latter of whom was born near Murphy; it was confirmed by Wafford (west) and others, being one of the best known myths in the tribe and embodied in the Cherokee name for Murphy. It is apparently founded upon a peculiar appearance, as of something alive or moving, at the bottom of a deep hole in Valley river, just below the old Unicoi turnpike ford, at Murphy, in Cherokee county, North Carolina. It is said that a tinsmith of the town once made a tin bomb which he filled with powder and sank in the stream at this spot with the intention of blowing up the strange object to see what it might be, but the contrivance failed to explode. The hole is caused by a sudden drop or split in the rock bed of the stream, extending across the river. Wafford, who once lived on Nottely river, adds the incident of the two women and says that the Leech had wings and could fly. He asserts also that he found rich lead ore in the hole, but that the swift current prevented working it. About two miles above the mouth of Nottely river a bend of the stream brings it within about the same distance of the Hiwassee at Murphy. “The little village of Murphy, whence I date this letter, lies at the junction of the Owassa and Valley rivers, and in point of location is one of the prettiest places in the world. Its Indian name was Klausuna, or the Large Turtle. It was so called, says a Cherokee legend, on account of its being the sunning place of an immense turtle which lived in its vicinity in ancient times. The turtle was particularly famous for its repelling power, having been known not to be at all injured by a stroke of lightning. Nothing on earth had power to annihilate the creature; but, on account of the many attempts made to take its life, when it was known to be a harmless and inoffensive creature, it became disgusted with this world, and burrowed its way into the middle of the earth, where it now lives in peace. “In connection with this legend, I may here mention what must be considered a remarkable fact in geology. Running directly across the village of Murphy is a belt of marble, composed of the black, grey, pure white and flesh-colored varieties, which belt also crosses the Owassa river. Just above this marble causeway the Owassa, for a space of perhaps two hundred feet, is said to be over one hundred feet deep, and at one point, in fact, a bottom has never been found. All this is simple truth, but I have heard the opinion expressed that there is a subterranean communication between this immense hole in Owassa and the river Notely, which is some two miles distant. The testimony adduced in proof of this theory is, that a certain log was once marked on the Notely, which log was subsequently found floating in the pool of the Deep Hole in the Owassa” (Letters, pp. 63–64). 78. The NÛÑne'hi and other spirit folk (p. 330): The belief in fairies and kindred spirits, frequently appearing as diminutive beings in human form, is so universal among all races as to render citation of parallels unnecessary. Every Indian tribe has its own spirits of the woods, the cliffs, and the waters, usually benevolent and kindly when not disturbed, but often mischievous, and in rare cases malicious and revengeful. These invisible spirit people are regarded as a sort of supernatural human beings, entirely distinct from ghosts and from the animal and plant spirits, as well as from the godlike beings who rule the sun, the rain, and the thunder. Most of the NÛÑne'hi stories here given were told by Wafford, who believed them all firmly in spite of his white man’s blood and education. The others, excepting that of the offended spirits (Wahnenauhi MS) and the Fire-carrier (Wafford), were heard from various persons upon the reservation. For other NÛÑne'hi references see the stories of Tsuwe'nahi, Kana'sta, Yahula, etc. NÛÑne'hi—This word (gÛÑne'hi in a dialectic form and naye'hi in the singular) may be rendered “dwellers anywhere” or “those who live anywhere,” but is understood to mean “those who live forever,” i. e., Immortals. It is spelled Nanehi by Buttrick and Nuhnayie in the Wahnenauhi manuscript. The singular form, Naye'hi, occurs also as a personal name, equivalent to EdÂ'hi, “One who goes about.” Some invisible townhouse—The ancient Creek town of Okmulgee, where now is the city of Macon, in Georgia, was destroyed by the Carolina people about the time of the Yamassee war. Sixty years later Adair says of the Creeks: “They strenuously aver that when the necessity forces them to encamp there, they always hear at the dawn of the morning the usual noise of Indians singing their joyful religious notes and dancing, as if going down to the river to purify themselves, and then returning to the old townhouse; with a great deal more to the same effect. Whenever I have been there, however, all hath been silent.... But they say this was ‘because I am an obdurate infidel that way’” (Hist. Am. Indians, p. 36). Nottely town—Properly Na'dÛ?li, was on Nottely river, a short distance above Hemptown—Properly GatÛÑlti'yi, “Hemp place,” existed until the Removal, on Hemptown creek, a branch of Toccoa river, a few miles north of the present Morganton, in Fannin county, Georgia. Noted circular depression—This may have been a circular earthwork of about thirty feet diameter, described as existing in 1890 a short distance east of Soquee post-office near the head of Soquee creek, about ten miles northwest of Clarkesville, Habersham county, Georgia. There are other circular structures of stone on elevated positions within a few miles of Clarkesville (see author’s manuscript notes on Cherokee archeology, in Bureau of American Ethnology archives). The same story about throwing logs and stones into one of these sacred places, only to have them thrown out again by invisible hands, is told by Zeigler and Grosscup, in connection with the Jutaculla old fields (see note under number 81, “Tsul?kalÛ'”). Bewildered—“Crazy persons were supposed to be possessed with the devil or afflicted with the Nanehi” (Buttrick, Antiquities, p. 14). According to Hagar’s informant: “The little people cause men to lose their minds and run away and wander in the forests. They wear very long hair, down to their heels” (MS Stellar Legends of the Cherokee). In Creek belief, according to the Tuggle manuscript, “Fairies or little people live in hollow trees and on rocky cliffs. They often decoy people from their homes and lose them in the woods. When a man’s mind becomes bewildered—not crazy—this is caused by the little people.” Loaves seemed to shrink—The deceptive and unsatisfactory character of all fairy belongings when the spell is lifted is well known to the European peasantry. Tsawa'si and Tsaga'si—These sprites are frequently named in the hunting prayers and other sacred formulas. Scratching—This is a preliminary rite of the ballplay and other ceremonies, as well as the doctor’s method of hypodermic injection. As performed in connection with the ballplay it is a painful operation, being inflicted upon the naked skin with a seven-toothed comb of turkey bone, the scratches being drawn in parallel lines upon the breast, back, arms and legs, until the sufferer is bleeding from head to foot. In medical practice, in order that the external application may take hold more effectually, the scratching is done with a rattlesnake’s tooth, a brier, a flint, or a piece of glass. See author’s Cherokee Ball Play, in American Anthropologist, April, 1890, and Sacred Formulas of the Cherokees, in Seventh Annual Report Bureau of Ethnology, 1891. The practice seems to have been general among the southern tribes, and was sometimes used as a punishment for certain delinquents. According to Adair the doctor bled patients by scratching them with the teeth of garfish after the skin had been first well softened by the application of warm water, while any unauthorized person who dared to intrude upon the sacred square during ceremonial performances “would be dry-scratched with snakes’ teeth, fixed in the middle of a split reed or piece of wood, without the privilege of warm water to supple the stiffened skin” (Hist. Am. Indians, pp. 46, 120). The Fire-carrier—This is probably the gaseous phenomenon known as the will-of-the-wisp, which has been a thing of mystery and fear to others beside Indians. 79. The removed townhouses (p. 335): The first of these stories was told by John Ax. The second was obtained from SalÂ'li, “Squirrel,” mentioned elsewhere as a self-taught mechanic of the East Cherokee. Wafford (west) had also heard it, but confused it with that of Tsal?kalÛ' (number 81). Excepting Gusti', the localities are all in western North Carolina. The large mound of Se?tsi is on the south side of Valley river, about three miles below Valleytown, in Cherokee county. Anisgaya'yi town is not definitely located by the story teller, but was probably in the same neighborhood. Tsudaye?lÛÑ'yi, literally “where it is isolated,” or “isolated place,” is a solitary high peak near Cheowa Maximum, a No one must shout—The same injunction occurs in the legend of Tsul?kalÛ' (number 81). The necessity for strict silence while under the conduct of fairy guides is constantly emphasized in European folklore. Townhouse in the water below—Breton legend tells of a submerged city which rises out of the sea at long intervals, when it can be seen by those who possess the proper talisman, and we know that in Ireland “On Lough Neagh’s banks as the fisherman strays, When the clear cold eve’s declining, He sees the round towers of other days In the wave beneath him shining.” 80. The spirit defenders of Nikwasi' (p. 336): This story was obtained from Swimmer. Nikwasi' or Nikw'si', one of the most ancient settlements of the Cherokee, was on the west bank of Little Tennessee river, where is now the town of Franklin, in Macon county, North Carolina. The mound upon which the townhouse stood, in a field adjoining the river, is probably the largest in western Carolina and has never been explored. The Cherokee believe that it is the abode of the NÛÑne'hi or Immortals (see number 78) and that a perpetual fire burns within it. The name, which can not be translated, appears as Nucassee in old documents. The British agent held a council here with the Cherokee as early as 1730. Although twice destroyed, the town was rebuilt and continued to be occupied probably until the land was sold in 1819. Bring the news home—It was a frequent custom in Indian warfare to spare a captive taken in battle in order that he might carry back to his people the news of the defeat. After the disastrous defeat of the French under D’Artaguette by the Chickasaw in upper Mississippi in 1736, D’Artaguette, Lieutenant Vincennes, Father Senac, and fifteen others were burned at the stake by the victors, but “one of the soldiers was spared to carry the news of the triumph of the Chickasaws and the death of these unhappy men to the mortified Bienville” (Pickett, History of Alabama, p. 298, ed. 1896). 81. Tsul?kalÛ', the slant-eyed giant (p. 337): The story of Tsul?kalÛ' is one of the finest and best known of the Cherokee legends. It is mentioned as early as 1823 by Haywood, who spells the name Tuli-cula, and the memory is preserved in the local nomenclature of western Carolina. Hagar also alludes briefly to it in his manuscript Stellar Legends of the Cherokee. The name signifies literally “he has them slanting,” being understood to refer to his eyes, although the word eye (akta', plural dikta') is not a part of it. In the plural form it is also the name of a traditional race of giants in the far west (see number 106, “The Giants from the West”). Tsul?kalÛ' lives in TsunegÛÑ'yi and is the great lord of the game, and as such is frequently invoked in the hunting formulas. The story was obtained from Swimmer and John Ax, the Swimmer version being the one here followed. For parallels to the incident of the child born from blood see notes to number 3, “Kana'ti and Selu.” In the John Ax version it is the girl’s father and mother, instead of her mother and brother, who try to bring her back. They are told they must fast seven days to succeed. They fast four days before starting, and then set out and travel two days, when they come to the mouth of the cave and hear the sound of the drum and the dance within. They are able to look over the edge of the rock and see their daughter among the dancers, but can not enter until the seventh day is arrived. Unluckily the man is very hungry by this time, and after watching nearly all night he insists that it is so near daylight of the seventh morning that he may safely take a small Haywood notes the story on the authority of Charles Hicks, an educated halfbreed (Nat. and Aborig. Hist. Tenn., p. 280): “They have a fabulous tradition respecting the mounds, which proves that they are beyond the events of their history. The mounds, they say, were caused by the quaking of the earth and great noise with it, a ceremony used for the adoption of their people into the family of Tuli-cula, who was an invisible person and had taken a wife of one of their town’s people. And at the time when his first son was born the quaking of the earth and noise had commenced, but had ceased at the alarm whoop, which had been raised by two imprudent young men of the town, in consequence of which the mounds had been raised by the quaking noise. Whereupon the father took the child and mother and removed to near Brasstown, and had made the tracks in the rocks which are to be seen there.” From Buttrick we get the following version of the tradition, evidently told for the missionary’s special benefit: “God directed the Indians to ascend a certain mountain—that is, the warriors—and he would there send them assistance. They started and had ascended far up the mountain, when one of the warriors began to talk about women. His companion immediately reproved him, but instantly a voice like thunder issued from the side of the mountain and God spoke and told them to return, as he could not assist them on account of that sin. They put the man to death, yet the Lord never returned to them afterwards” (Antiquities, p. 14). On the next page he tells it in a somewhat different form: “It is said that before coming to this continent, while in their own country, they were in great distress from their enemies, and God told them to march to the top of a certain mountain and He would come down and afford them relief. They ascended far up the mountain and thought they saw something coming down from above, which they supposed was for their aid. But just then one of the warriors,” etc. Zeigler and Grosscup give another version, which, although dressed up for advertising purposes, makes a fairly good story: “But there is another legend of the Balsams more significant than any of these. It is the Paradise Gained of Cherokee mythology, and bears some distant resemblance to the Christian doctrine of mediation. The Indians believed that they were originally mortal in spirit as well as body, but above the blue vault of heaven there was, inhabited by a celestial race, a forest into which the highest mountains lifted their dark summits. * * * “The mediator, by whom eternal life was secured for the Indian mountaineers, was a maiden of their own tribe. Allured by the haunting sound and diamond sparkle of a mountain stream, she wandered far up into a solitary glen, where the azalea, the kalmia, and the rhododendron brilliantly embellished the deep, shaded slopes, and filled the air with their delicate perfume. The crystal stream wound its crooked way between moss-covered rocks over which tall ferns bowed their graceful stems. Enchanted by the scene, she seated herself upon the soft moss, and, overcome by fatigue, was soon asleep. The dream picture of a fairyland was presently broken by the soft touch of a strange hand. The spirit of her dream occupied a place at her side, and, wooing, won her for his bride. “Her supposed abduction caused great excitement among her people, who made diligent search for her recovery in their own villages. Being unsuccessful, they made war upon the neighboring tribes in the hope of finding the place of her concealment. Grieved because of so much bloodshed and sorrow, she besought the great chief of the eternal hunting grounds to make retribution. She was accordingly “At the hour appointed the head men of the Cherokees assembled. The high Balsam peaks were shaken by thunder and aglare with lightning. The cloud, as black as midnight, settled over the valley, then lifted, leaving upon a large rock a cluster of strange men, armed and painted as for war. An enraged brother of the abducted maiden swung his tomahawk and raised the war whoop, but a swift thunderbolt dispatched him before the echo had died in the hills. The chiefs, terror-stricken, fled to their towns. “The bride, grieved by the death of her brother and the failure of the council, prepared to abandon her new home and return to her kindred in the valleys. To reconcile her the promise was granted that all brave warriors and their faithful women should have an eternal home in the happy hunting ground above, after death. The great chief of the forest beyond the clouds became the guardian spirit of the Cherokees. All deaths, either from wounds in battle or disease, were attributed to his desire to make additions to the celestial hunting ground, or, on the other hand, to his wrath, which might cause their unfortunate spirits to be turned over to the disposition of the evil genius of the mountain tops.”—Heart of the Alleghanies, pp. 22–24. Kanu'ga—An ancient Cherokee town on Pigeon river, in the present Haywood county, North Carolina. It was deserted before the beginning of the historic period, but may have been located about the junction of the two forks of Pigeon river, a few miles east of Waynesville, where there are still a number of mounds and ancient cemeteries extending for some miles down the stream. Being a frontier town, it was probably abandoned early on account of its exposed position. The name, signifying “scratcher,” is applied to a comb, used for scratching the ballplayers, and is connected with kanugÛ'?la, or nugÛ'?la, a blackberry bush or brier. There are other mounds on Richland creek, in the neighborhood of Waynesville. Tsul?kalÛ' TsunegÛÑ'yi—Abbreviated TsunegÛÑ'yi; the mountain in which the giant is supposed to have his residence, is Tennessee bald, in North Carolina, where the Haywood, Jackson, and Transylvania county lines come together, on the ridge separating the waters of Pigeon river from those flowing into Tennessee creek and Cany fork of the Tuckasegee, southeastward from Waynesville and Webster. The name seems to mean, “at the white place,” from une'ga, “white,” and may refer to a bald spot of perhaps a hundred acres on the top, locally known among the whites as Jutaculla old fields, from a tradition, said to be derived from the Indians, that it was a clearing made by “Jutaculla” (i. e., Tsul?kalÛ') for a farm. Some distance farther west, on the north side of Cany fork and about ten miles above Webster, in Jackson county, is a rock known as Jutaculla rock, covered with various rude carvings, which, according to the same tradition, are scratches made by the giant in jumping from his farm on the mountain to the creek below. Zeigler and Grosscup refer to the mountain under the name of “Old Field mountain” and mention a tradition among the pioneers that it was regarded by the Indians as the special abode of the Indian Satan! “On the top of the mountain there is a prairie-like tract, almost level, reached by steep slopes covered with thickets of balsam and rhododendron, which seem to garrison the reputed sacred domain. It was understood among the Indians to be forbidden territory, but a party one day permitted their curiosity to tempt them. They forced a way through the entangled thickets, and with merriment entered the open ground. Aroused from sleep and enraged by their audacious intrusion, the devil, taking the form of an immense snake, assaulted the party and swallowed fifty of them before the thicket could be gained. Among the first whites who settled among the Indians, and traded with them, was a party of hunters who used this superstition The footprints can still be seen—Shining rock or Cold mountain, between the Forks of Pigeon river, in Haywood county, North Carolina, is known to the Cherokee as Datsu'nalÂsgÛÑ'yi, “where their tracks are this way,” on account of a rock at its base, toward Sonoma and three miles south of the trail, upon which are impressions said to be the footprints made by the giant and his children on their way to TsunegÛÑ'yi. Within the mountain is also the legendary abode of invisible spirits. Haywood confounds this with Track Rock gap, near Blairsville, Georgia, where are other noted petroglyphs (see number 125, Minor Legends of Georgia). The rapid growth of the two children is paralleled in many other tribal mythologies. The sequence of growth as indicated by the footprints reminds us of the concluding incident of the Arabian Nights, when Queen Scheherazade stands before the king to make a last request: “And the king answered her, ‘Request, thou shalt receive, O Scheherazade.’ So thereupon she called out to the nurses and the eunuchs and said to them, ‘Bring ye my children.’ Accordingly they brought them to her quickly, and they were three male children; one of them walked, and one crawled, and one was at the breast.” Must not raise the war whoop—See note under number 79, “The Removed Townhouses.” 82. Kana'sta, the lost settlement (p. 341): This story, obtained from Swimmer, bears resemblance to those of Tsul?kalÛ', Tsuwe'nahi, The Removed Townhouses, and others, in which individuals, or even whole settlements, elect to go with the invisible spirit people in order to escape hardships or coming disaster. Kana'sta—Abbreviated from KanastÛÑ'yi, a name which can not be translated, is described as an ancient Cherokee town on the French Broad where the trail from Tennessee creek of the Tuckasegee comes in, near the present Brevard, in Transylvania county, North Carolina. No mounds are known there, and we find no notice of the town in history, but another of the same name existed on Hiwassee and was destroyed in 1776. Tsuwa?tel'da—Abbreviated from Tsuwa?teldÛÑ'yi, and known to the whites as Pilot knob, is a high mountain in Transylvania county, about eight miles north of Brevard. On account of the peculiar stratified appearance of the rocks, the faces of the cliffs are said frequently to present a peculiar appearance under the sun’s rays, as of shining walls with doors, windows, and shingled roofs. Datsu'nalÂsgÛÑ'yi—Shining rock. See note under number 81, “Tsul?kalÛ'.” Fast seven days—This injunction of a seven days’ fast upon those who would join the spirit people appears in several Cherokee myths, the idea being, as we learn from the priests, to spiritualize the human nature and quicken the spiritual vision by abstinence from earthly food. The doctrine is exemplified in an incident of the legend of Tsuwe'nahi, q. v. In a broader application, the same idea is a foundation principle of every ancient religion. In ordinary Cherokee ceremonial the fast is kept for one day—i. e., from midnight to sunset. On occasions of supreme importance it continues four or even seven days. Among the plains tribes those who voluntarily enter the Sun dance to make supplication and sacrifice for their people abstain entirely from food and drink during the four days and nights of the ceremony. The Thunders—See number 3, “Kana'ti and Selu” and notes, and number 8, “The Moon and the Thunders,” with notes. 83. Tsuwe'nahi, a legend of Pilot knob (p. 343): This story, from Swimmer, The name Tsuwe'nahi can not be translated, but may possibly have, a connection with uwe'nahi, “rich.” Kanu'ga and Tsuwa?tel'da—See notes under number 81, “Tsul?kalÛ',” and number 82, “Kana'sta.” Parched corn—This was the standard provision of the warrior when on the march among all the tribes east of the Mississippi and probably among all the corn-growing tribes of America. It is the pinole of the Tarumari and other Mexican tribes. The Cherokee call it gahawi'sita. Hawkins thus describes it as seen with his Cherokee guides in 1796: “They are small eaters, use no salt and but little bread. They carry their parched corn meal, wissactaw, and mix a handful in a pint of water, which they drink. Although they had plenty of corn and fowls, they made no other provision than a small bag of this for the path. I have plenty of provisions and give them some at every meal. I have several times drank of the wissactaw, and am fond of it with the addition of some sugar. To make of the best quality, I am told the corn should first be boiled, then parched in hot ashes, sifted, powdered, and made into flour.” The seat was a turtle—This incident also occurs in number 84, “The Man who Married the Thunder’s Sister.” The species meant is the saligu'gi or common water turtle. Like dogs’ paws—No reason is given for this peculiarity, which is nowhere else mentioned as a characteristic of the mountain spirits. Old tobacco—TsÂl-agayÛÑ'li, “ancient tobacco,” the Nicotiana rustica, sacred among all the eastern tribes. See number 6, “How they Brought back the Tobacco,” and number 126, “Plant Lore.” Thorns of honey locust—This incident occurs also in number 63, “ÛÑtsaiyi', The Gambler.” 84. The man who married the Thunder’s sister (p. 345): This story was heard first from John Ax, and afterward with additions and variants from Swimmer and others. It is also briefly noted in Hagar’s manuscript “Stellar Legends of the Cherokee.” As explained elsewhere, the Thunder spirits are supposed to have their favorite residence under cataracts, of which Tallulah falls is probably the greatest in the Cherokee country. The connection of Thunder and Rain spirits with snakes and water animals is a matter of universal primitive belief and has already been noted. One Cherokee informant told Hagar (see above) that “Thunder is a horned snake (?), and lightning its tongue, and it lives with water and rains.” It is hardly necessary to state that the dance was, and is, among all the tribes, not only the most frequent form of social amusement, but also an important part of every great religious or other ceremonial function. SÂkwi'yi—Abbreviated SÂkwi', an ancient town about on the site of the present village of Soquee on the creek of the same name near Clarkesville, in Habersham county, Georgia. Marry him—Among nearly all the tribes, with the exception of the Pueblo, the marriage ceremony was simple, consisting chiefly of the giving, by the lover, of certain presents to the parents of the intended bride, by way of compensating them for the loss of their daughter, after she herself had first signified her consent to the union. Although this has been represented as a purchase, it was really only a formal ratification of the contract, which the girl was free to accept or reject as she chose. On the other hand, should the presents be insufficient to satisfy the parents, they were Lawson’s statement concerning the eastern Carolina tribes in 1700 will hold almost equally good to-day in any part of the West: “As for the Indian marriages, I have read and heard of a great deal of form and ceremony used, which I never saw; nor yet could learn in the time I have been amongst them any otherwise than I shall here give you an account of, which is as follows: “When any young Indian has a mind for such a girl to his wife, he, or some one for him, goes to the young woman’s parents, if living; if not, to her nearest relations, where they make offers of the match betwixt the couple. The relations reply, they will consider of it; which serves for a sufficient answer, till there be a second meeting about the marriage, which is generally brought into debate before all the relations that are old people, on both sides, and sometimes the king with all his great men give their opinions therein. If it be agreed on and the young woman approve thereof—for these savages never give their children in marriage without their own consent—the man pays so much for his wife, and the handsomer she is the greater price she bears” (History of Carolina, pp. 302–303). According to Adair, who makes it a little more formal among the Gulf tribes, “When an Indian makes his first address to the young woman he intends to marry, she is obliged by ancient custom to sit by him till he hath done eating and drinking, whether she likes or dislikes him; but afterward she is at her own choice whether to stay or retire” (Hist. Am. Indians, p. 139). Would surely die—In Cherokee myth and ritual we frequently meet the idea that one who reveals supernatural secrets will die. Sometimes the idea is reversed, as when the discovery of the nefarious doings of a wizard or conjurer causes his death. The latter belief has its parallel in Europe. Smooth as a pumpkin—This is the rendering of the peculiar tautologic Cherokee expression, i'ya iya'-tawi'skage—tawi'skage i'ya-iyu'sti, literally, “pumpkin, of pumpkin smoothness—smooth like a pumpkin.” The rendering is in line with the repetition in such children’s stories as that of “The House that Jack Built,” but the translation fails to convey the amusing sound effect of the original. A large turtle—This incident occurs also in number 83, “Tsuwe'nahi.” A horse—Although the reference to the horse must be considered a more modern interpolation it may easily date back two centuries, or possibly even to De Soto’s expedition in 1540. Among the plains tribes the horse quickly became so essential a part of Indian life that it now enters into their whole social and mythic system. The bracelets were snakes—The same concept appears also in number 63, “ÛÑtsaiyi',” when the hero visits his father, the Thunder god. 85. The haunted whirlpool (p. 347): This legend was related by an East Cherokee known to the whites as Knotty Tom. For a description of the whirlpool rapids known as The Suck, see notes under number 63, “ÛÑtsaiyi', the Gambler.” 86. Yahula (p. 347): This fine myth was obtained in the Territory from Wafford, who had it from his uncle, William Scott, a halfbreed who settled upon Yahoola creek shortly after the close of the Revolution. Scott claimed to have heard the bells and the songs, and of the story itself Wafford said, “I’ve heard it so often and so much that I’m inclined to believe it.” It has its explanation in the beliefs connected with the NÛÑne'hi (see number 78 and notes), in whom Wafford had firm faith. Yahula—This is a rather frequent Cherokee personal name, but seems to be of Creek origin, having reference to the song used in the “black drink” or “busk” ceremony of that tribe, and the songs which the lost trader used to sing may have been those of that ceremony. See the glossary. Tinkling of the bells—Among the southern tribes in the old days the approach of a trader’s cavalcade along the trail was always heralded by the jingling of bells hung about the necks of the horses, somewhat in the manner of our own winter sleighing parties. Among the plains tribes the children’s ponies are always equipped with collars of sleigh bells. In his description of a trader’s pack-train before the Revolution, Bartram says (Travels, p. 439): “Every horse has a bell on, which being stopped, when we start in the morning, with a twist of grass or leaves, soon shakes out, and they are never stopped again during the day. The constant ringing and clattering of the bells, smacking of the whips, whooping and too frequent cursing these miserable quadrupeds, cause an incessant uproar and confusion inexpressibly disagreeable.” 87. The water cannibals (p. 349): This story was obtained from Swimmer and contains several points of resemblance to other Cherokee myths. The idea of the spirit changeling is common to European fairy lore. Tikwali'tsi—This town, called by the whites Tuckalechee, was on Tuckasegee river, at the present Bryson City, in Swain county, North Carolina, where traces of the mound can still be seen on the south side of the river. Afraid of the witches—See number 120, “The Raven Mocker,” and notes. 88. First contact with whites (p. 350): The story of the jug of whisky left near a spring was heard first from Swimmer; the ulÛÑsÛ'ti story from Wafford; the locomotive story from David Blythe. Each was afterward confirmed from other sources. The story of the book and the bow, quoted from the Cherokee Advocate of October 26, 1844, was not heard on the reservation, but is mentioned by other authorities. According to an old Cherokee quoted by Buttrick, “God gave the red man a book and a paper and told him to write, but he merely made marks on the paper, and as he could not read or write, the Lord gave him a bow and arrows, and gave the book to the white man.” Boudinot, in “A Star in the West,” 89. The Iroquois wars (p. 351): The Iroquois league—The Iroquois league consisted originally of a confederacy of five kindred tribes, the Mohawk, Oneida, Onondaga, Cayuga, and Seneca, in what is now the state of New York; to these were added the cognate Tuscarora after their expulsion from Carolina about 1715. The name Iroquois, by which they were known to the French, is supposed to be a derivative from some Indian term. To the English they were known as the Five, afterward the Six Nations. They called themselves by a name commonly spelt Hodenosaunee, and interpreted “People of the Long House.” Of this symbolic long house the Mohawk guarded the eastern door, while the Seneca protected the western. Their remarkable governmental and clan system is still well preserved, each tribe, except the Mohawk and Oneida, having eight clans, arranged in two groups or phratries. The Mohawk and Oneida are said to have now but three clans apiece, probably because of their losses by withdrawals to the French missions. The Seneca clans, which are nearly the same for the other tribes, are the Wolf, Bear, Turtle, Beaver, Deer, Snipe, Heron, and Hawk. The confederacy is supposed to have been formed about the middle of the sixteenth century, and by 1680 the Iroquois had conquered and destroyed or incorporated all the surrounding tribes, and had asserted a paramount According to a special bulletin of the census of 1890 the total number of Indians then belonging to the tribes originally constituting the Six Nations was 15,833, of whom 8,483 were living in Canada and 7,350 in the United States, excluding from the latter count 37 resident members of other tribes. Those in the United States were on six reservations in the State of New York, one in Pennsylvania, one in Wisconsin, and one in the Indian Territory, and were classed as follows:
Those in Canada were at the same time officially reported thus: A few Algonkin are included among the Iroquois of Caughnawaga and Saint Regis, the Iroquois of these two settlements having been originally Catholic emigrants from the Mohawk villages in New York, with a few Oneida and Onondaga. When the boundary line between New York and Canada was run it cut the Saint Regis reservation in two. The report of the Commissioner of Indian Affairs for 1900 shows Seneca town, South Carolina—The statement given by Schoolcraft (Notes on Iroquois, 161), on the authority of Calhoun, that the Seneca once lived at Seneca town, in South Carolina, has probably no foundation in fact, the story having evidently arisen from a supposed similarity of name. The Cherokee call it I?sÛ'nigÛ', and do not connect it in any way with A-Se'nika or Ani'-Se'nika, their name for the northern tribe. The Cherokee war—The Iroquois story of the war between themselves and the Cherokee is from Schoolcraft, Notes on Iroquois, pages 252 and 256. Five days’ journey—This statement is on Morgan’s authority, but the distance was certainly greater, unless we are to understand only the distance that separated their extreme accustomed hunting ranges, not that between the permanent settlements of the two peoples. The Tennessee river boundary—The statement from Morgan (League of the Iroquois, p. 337) in regard to the truce line established at Tennessee river seems to find confirmation in incidental references in early documents. Boundaries beyond which war parties might not go, or neutral grounds where hereditary enemies met in peace, were a regular institution in ancient Indian society, the most notable instance being perhaps the famous pipestone quarry in Minnesota. Notwithstanding the claim of the Iroquois, backed by Sir William Johnson, to all the country north of the Tennessee river, it is very plain from history and the treaties that the Cherokee asserted a more or less valid claim as far north as the Ohio. Their actual settlements, however, were all south of the main Tennessee. The Buffalo dance—The origin ascribed to the Buffalo dance of the Iroquois (Morgan, League of the Iroquois, p. 287) is in agreement with the common Indian idea, according to which dances named from animals are performed in imitation of the peculiar actions and cries of these animals, or in obedience to supposed commands from the ruling spirit animals. The peace embassy—The story of the proposed intertribal alliance, with the statements as to Cherokee captives among the Seneca, are from Schoolcraft (Notes on Iroquois, pp. 158, 252, 257). The records of the conference at Johnson Hall in 1768 are published in the New York Colonial Documents. The account of the Iroquois peace embassy to Echota was given to Wafford by two eyewitnesses, one of whom was his mother’s cousin, Sequoya. As the old man said, “Sequoya told me all about it.” As stated in the narrative, Wafford himself had also seen the belts brought out and explained in a great intertribal council at Tahlequah. By common tribal custom ambassadors of peace were secure from molestation, whatever might be the result of the negotiations, although, as among more civilized nations, this rule was sometimes violated. According to tradition, the ancient peace pipe of the Cherokee, and probably of other eastern tribes, was of white stone, white being the universal peace color. The red stone pipe of the Sioux was also used in peace ceremonials, from the peculiar sacredness attached to it among the western tribes. The accuracy of Wafford’s statement from memory in 1891 is strikingly confirmed by a contemporary account of the great intertribal council at Tahlequah in 1843, by the artist, Stanley, who was present and painted a number of portraits on that occasion. The council was convened by John Ross in June and remained in session four weeks, some ten thousand Indians being in attendance, representing seventeen “You will now hear a talk from our forefathers. You must not think hard if we make a few mistakes in describing our wampum. If we do, we will try and rectify them. “My Brothers, you will now hear what our forefathers said to us. “In the first place, the Senecas, a great many years ago, devised a plan for us to become friends. When the plan was first laid, the Seneca rose up and said, I fear the Cherokee, because the tomahawk is stuck in several parts of his head. The Seneca afterwards remarked, that he saw the tomahawk still sticking in all parts of the Cherokee’s head, and heard him whooping and hallooing say [sic] that he was too strong to die. The Seneca further said, Our warriors in old times used to go to war; when they did go, they always went to fight the Cherokees; sometimes one or two would return home—sometimes none. He further said, The Great Spirit must love the Cherokees, and we must be in the wrong, going to war with them. The Seneca then said, Suppose we make friends with the Cherokee, and wash his wounds and cause them to heal up, that he may grow larger than he was before. The Seneca, after thus speaking, sat down. The Wyandot then rose and said, You have done right, and let it be. I am your youngest brother, and you our oldest. This word was told to the Shawnees; They replied, We are glad, let it be; you are our elder brothers. The Senecas then said, they would go about and pray to the Great Spirit for four years to assist them in making peace, and that they would set aside a vessel of water and cover it, and at the end of every year they would take the cover off, and examine the water, which they did; every time they opened it they found it was changed; at the end of four years they uncovered the vessel and found that the water had changed to a colour that suited them. The Seneca then said, The Great Spirit has had mercy upon us, and the thing has taken place just as we wished it. “The Shawnee then said, We will make straight paths; but let us make peace among our neighbouring tribes first, before we make this path to those afar off. “The Seneca then said, Before we make peace, we must give our neighboring tribes some fire; for it will not do to make peace without it,—they might be traveling about, and run against each other, and probably cause them to hurt each other. These three tribes said, before making peace, that this fire which was to be given to them should be kindled in order that a big light may be raised, so they may see each other at a long distance; this is to last so long as the earth stands; They said further, that this law of peace shall last from generation to generation—so long as there shall be a red man living on this earth: They also said, that the fire shall continue among us and shall never be extinguished as long as one remains. The Seneca further said to the Shawnees, I have put a belt around you, and have tied up the talk in a bundle, and placed it on your backs; we will now make a path on which we will pass to the Sioux. The Seneca said further, You shall continue your path until it shall reach the lodge of the Osage. When the talk was brought to the Sioux, they replied, we feel thankful to you and will take your talk; we can see a light through the path you have made for us. “When the Shawnees brought the talk to the Osages, they replied, By to-morrow, by the middle of the day, we shall have finished our business. The Osage said further, The Great Spirit has been kind to me. He has brought something to me, I being fatigued hunting for it. When the Shawnees returned to the lodge of the Osages, “When the Shawnees returned to their homes whence they came, they said they had been near being killed. “The Seneca then said to the Shawnees, that the Osages must be mistaken. The Shawnees went again to see the Osages—they told them their business. The Osages remarked, The Great Spirit has been good to us,—to-morrow by the middle of the day he will give us something without fatigue. When the Shawnees arrived at the lodge, an old man of the Osages told them that they had better make their escape; that if they did not, by the middle of the following day, they were all to be destroyed, and directed them to the nearest point of the woods. The Shawnees made their escape about midday. They discovered the Osages following them, and threw away their packs, reserving the bag their talk was in, and arrived at their camp safe. When the Shawnees arrived home, they said they had come near being killed, and the Osages refused to receive their talk. The Seneca then said, If the Osages will not take our talk, let them remain as they are; and when the rising generation shall become as one, the Osages shall be like some herb standing alone. The Seneca further said, The Osages shall be like a lone cherry-tree, standing in the prairies, where the birds of all kinds shall light upon it at pleasure. The reason this talk was made about the Osages was, that they prided themselves upon their warriors and manhood, and did not wish to make peace. “The Seneca further said, we have succeeded in making peace with all the Northern and neighbouring tribes. The Seneca then said to the Shawnees, You must now turn your course to the South: you must take your path to the Cherokees, and even make it into their houses. When the Shawnees started at night they took up their camp and sat up all night, praying to the Great Spirit to enable them to arrive in peace and safety among the Cherokees. The Shawnees still kept their course, until they reached a place called Tah-le-quah, where they arrived in safety, as they wished, and there met the chiefs and warriors of the Cherokees. When they arrived near Tah-le-quah, they went to a house and sent two men to the head chiefs. The chief’s daughter was the only person in the house. As soon as she saw them, she went out and met them, and shook them by the hand and asked them into the house to sit down. The men were all in the field at work—the girl’s father was with them. She ran and told him that there were two men in the house, and that they were enemies. The chief immediately ran to the house and shook them by the hand, and stood at the door. The Cherokees all assembled around the house, and said, Let us kill them, for they are enemies. Some of the men said, No, the chief’s daughter has taken them by the hand; so also has our chief. The men then became better satisfied. The chief asked the two men if they were alone. They answered, No; that there were some more with them. He told them to go after them and bring them to his house. When these two men returned with the rest of their people, the chief asked them what their business was. They then opened this valuable bundle, and told him that it contained a talk for peace. The chief told them, I cannot do business alone; all the chiefs are assembled at a place called Cho-qua-ta [for E-cho-ta], where I will attend to your business in general council. When the messengers of peace arrived at Cho-qua-ta, they were kindly received by the chiefs, who told them they would gladly receive their talk of peace. The messengers of peace then said to the Cherokees, We will make a path for you to travel in, and the rising generation may do the same,—we also will keep it swept clean and white, so that the rising generation may travel in peace. The Shawnee further said, We will keep the doors of our houses open, so that when the rising generation come among us they shall be welcome. He further said, This talk is intended for all the different tribes of our red brothers, and is to last to the end of time. He further said, I have made a fire out of the dry elm—this fire is for all “I have made you a fire-light, I have stripped some white hickory bark and set it up against the tree, in order that when you wish to remove this fire, you can take it and put it on the bark; when you kindle this fire it will be seen rising up toward the heavens. I will see it and know it; I am your oldest brother. The messenger of peace further said, I have prepared white benches for you, and leaned the white pipe against them, and when you eat you shall have but one dish and one spoon. We have done everything that was good, but our warriors still hold their tomahawks in their hands, as if they wished to fight each other. We will now take their tomahawks from them and bury them; we must bury them deep under the earth where there is water; and there must be winds, which we wish to blow them so far that our warriors may never see them again. “The messenger further said, Where there is blood spilt I will wipe it up clean—wherever bones have been scattered, I have taken them and buried them, and covered them with white hickory bark and a white cloth—there must be no more blood spilt; our warriors must not recollect it any more. Our warriors said that the Cherokees were working for the rising generation by themselves; we must take hold and help them. “The messengers then said that you Cherokees are placed now under the centre of the sun; this talk I leave with you for the different tribes, and when you talk it, our voice shall be loud enough to be heard over this island. This is all I have to say.” Wampum—The celebrated wampum was a species of bead cut from the shell of the clam, conch, or other shell-bearing mollusk of the coast or the larger streams. The common name is derived from an Algonquian word signifying white, and was properly applied only to one variety, the generic term varying with the tribe. The beads were rather cylindrical than globular, and were of two colors, white and purple or dark. They were rated at definite values. The wampum was manufactured by the coast tribes, being traded by them to those of the interior, and was largely used everywhere east of the Mississippi for necklaces, collars, belts, and other purposes of personal adornment, as well as in connection with the noted wampum belts, by means of which the memory of treaties and tribal traditions was handed down. These belts were woven with various designs in wampum, either pictographic or symbolic, the meaning of which was preserved and explained on public occasions by an officer appointed to that duty. In ancient times no treaty or covenant was considered binding, and no tribal embassy was recognized as official, without the delivery of a wampum belt as a guaranty and memorial. The colonial documents are full of references to this custom. Up to the end of the last century the Cherokee still tendered such belts in their treaties with the Government, and one was delivered in the same manner so late as the treaty of Prairie des Chiens in 1825. The Iroquois still preserve several ancient belts, of which a good idea is afforded by the illustration and accompanying description (figure 2, page 354). On account of the high estimation in which these shell beads were held they were frequently used in the East as a standard of exchange, as eagle feathers were in the West, and among the Cherokee the same word, atela, is used alike for bead and for money. On the Pacific coast, 90. Hiadeoni, the Seneca (p. 356): Of this story Schoolcraft says: “The following incident in the verbal annals of Iroquois hardihood and heroism was related to me by the intelligent Seneca, Tetoyoah, William Jones of Cattaraugus, along with other reminiscences of the ancient Cherokee wars.” Hewitt thinks the proper Seneca form of the name may be Haia'di'oÑni, signifying “His body lies supine.” 92. Escape of the Seneca boys (p. 359): The manuscript notes from which this and several following traditions are arranged are in the archives of the Bureau of American Ethnology, and were obtained in 1886–87 among the Seneca Indians of New York by Mr Jeremiah Curtin, since noted as the author of several standard collections of Indian and European myths and the translator of the works of the Polish novelist, Sienkiewicz. Gowe'!—This is along drawn halloo without significance except as a signal to arrest attention. It strikingly resembles the Australian “bush cry” Coowee'! used for the same purpose. 93. The Unseen Helpers (p. 359): The meaning of the Seneca name can not be given. Animal Protectors—The leading incident of this tale is closely paralleled by a Kiowa story, told by the old men as an actual occurrence of some fifty years ago, concerning a warrior who, having been desperately wounded in an engagement with Mexican troops in southern Texas, was abandoned to die by his retreating comrades. At night, while lying upon the ground awaiting death, and unable to move, he heard a long howl in the distance, which was repeated nearer and nearer, until at last he heard the patter of feet in the sand, and a wolf came up and licked the festering wounds of the warrior with such soothing effect that he fell asleep. This was repeated several times until the man was able to sit up, when the wolf left him, after telling him—not in the vision of a dream, but as a companion face to face—that he must keep up his courage, and that he would get back in safety to his tribe. Soon afterward the wounded warrior was found by a party of Comanche, who restored him to his people. At the next Sun dance he made public thanksgiving for his rescue (see the author’s Calendar History of the Kiowa Indians, in Seventeenth Annual Report Bureau of American Ethnology, part 1, 1901). The story is not impossible. A wolf may easily have licked the wounded man’s sores, as a dog might do, and through the relief thus afforded, if not by sympathy of companionship, have enabled him to hold out until rescued by friends. The rest is easy to the imagination of an Indian, who believes that there is no essential difference between himself and other animals. The War Woman—The women described as having power to decide the fate of captives, mentioned also in the next story (number 94), are evidently the female dignitaries among the ancient Cherokee known to early writers as “War Women” or “Pretty Women.” Owing to the decay of Cherokee tradition and custom it is now impossible to gather anything positive on the subject from Indian informants, but from documentary references it is apparent that there existed among the Cherokee a custom analogous to that found among the Iroquois and probably other Eastern tribes, by which the decision of important questions relating to peace and war was left to a vote of the women. Among the Iroquois this privilege was exercised by a council of matrons, the mothers of the tribes. It may have been the same among the Cherokee, with the “Pretty Woman” to voice the decision of the council, or the final rendering may have been according to the will of the “Pretty Woman” herself. The institution served in a measure to mitigate the evils of war and had its origin in the clan system. Under this system a captive enemy was still an enemy until he had been adopted into the tribe, which could only be done through adoption into a clan and family. As clan descent was reckoned through the women it rested with them Timberlake says in 1765 (Memoirs, p. 70): “These chiefs or headmen likewise compose the assemblies of the nation, into which the war women are admitted, many of the Indian women being as famous in war as powerful in the council.” At the Hopewell treaty conference in 1785 the principal chief of Echota, after an opening speech, said: “I have no more to say, but one of our beloved women has, who has borne and raised up warriors.” After delivering a string of wampum to emphasize the importance of the occasion, “the war woman of Chota then addressed the commissioners.” Having expressed her pleasure at the peace, she continued: “I have a pipe and a little tobacco to give to the commissioners to smoke in friendship. I look on you and the red people as my children. Your having determined on peace is most pleasing to me, for I have seen much trouble during the late war. I am old, but I hope yet to bear children, who will grow up and people our nation, as we are now to be under the protection of Congress and shall have no more disturbance. The talk I have given is from the young warriors I have raised in my town, as well as myself. They rejoice that we have peace, and we hope the chain of friendship will never more be broken.” Two strings of wampum, a pipe, and some tobacco accompanied her words (American State Papers; Indian Affairs, I, p. 41, 1832). Haywood says in 1823: “The Cherokees had the law or custom of assigning to a certain woman the office of declaring what punishment should be inflicted on great offenders; whether, for instance, burning or other death, or whether they should be pardoned. This woman they called the pretty woman. Mrs Ward exercised this office when Mrs Bean, about the year 1776, was taken from the white settlements on the upper parts of Holston. Being bound and about to be burned on one of the mounds, the pretty woman interfered and pronounced her pardon” (Nat. and Aborig. Hist. Tenn., p. 278). See also historical note 20, “Peace Towns and Towns of Refuge.” Between two lines of people—This custom, known to colonial writers as “running the gauntlet,” was very common among the eastern tribes, and was intended not so much to punish the captive as to test his courage and endurance, with a view to adoption if he proved worthy. It was practiced only upon warriors, never upon women or children, and although the blows were severe they were not intended to be fatal. The prisoner was usually unbound and made to run along a cleared space in the center of the village toward a certain goal, and was safe for the time being if he succeeded in reaching it. 94. HatcinoÑdoÑ’s escape from the Cherokee (p. 362): The Seneca name is not translatable. Canebrake—The tall cane reed (Arundinaria), called i'hya by the Cherokee, is common along the southern streams, as such names as Cany fork, Cut-cane creek, and Young-cane creek testify. It was greatly valued among the Indians for fishing rods, blowguns, and baskets, as well as for fodder for stock. The best canebrakes were famous far and wide, and were resorted to from long distances in the gathering season. Most of the cane now used by the East Cherokee for blowguns and baskets is procured by long journeys on foot to the streams of upper South Carolina, or to points on the French Broad above Knoxville, Tennessee. Sky vault—See notes to number 1, “How the World was Made.” HaweÑni'o—The Seneca name for the Thunder god is in the singular form. In the Cherokee language Thunder and the Thunder spirits are always spoken of in the plural. The messengers in the story may have been Thunder spirits. Thought reading—See notes to number 76, “The Bear Man.” Woman arbiters—See the preceding story, number 93, and the note on My grandson—Among all the eastern and plains tribes this is a term of affectionate address to a dependent or inferior, as “grandfather” is a respectful address to one occupying a superior station, or venerable by reason of age or dignity, both words being thus used without any reference to kinship. In tribal councils nearly all the eastern tribes except the Iroquois addressed the Delaware representatives as “grandfather,” and in an Arapaho song of the Ghost dance the Whirlwind is thus addressed. 95. Hemp-carrier (p. 364): This story of the old wars was obtained from Colonel William H. Thomas, who says that TÂle'danigi'ski was a chief formerly living near Valleytown, in Cherokee county. The name is variously rendered “Hemp-carrier,” “Nettle-carrier,” or “Flax-toter,” from tÂle'ta, the richweed (Pilea pumila), a plant with a fibrous stalk from which the Indians wove thread and cordage. The trail along which the Seneca came ran from Valley river across the ridge to Cheowa (Robbinsville) and thence northwest to connect with the “great war path” in Tennessee (see historical note 19). Cairns—Stone cairns were formerly very common along the trails throughout the Cherokee country, but are now almost gone, having been demolished by treasure hunters after the occupation of the country by the whites. They were usually sepulchral monuments built of large stones piled loosely together above the body to a height of sometimes 6 feet or more, with a corresponding circumference. This method of interment was used only when there was a desire to commemorate the death, and every passer-by was accustomed to add a stone to the heap. The custom is ancient and world-wide, and is still kept up in Mexico and in many parts of Europe and Asia. Early references to it among the southern tribes occur in Lederer (1670), Travels, page 10, ed. 1891, and Lawson (1700), History of Carolina, pages 43 and 78, ed. 1860. The latter mentions meeting one day “seven heaps of stones, being the monuments of seven Indians that were slain in that place by the Sinnagers or Troquois [Iroquois]. Our Indian guide added a stone to each heap.” The common name is the Gaelic term, meaning literally “a pile.” Seven wives—Polygamy was common among the Cherokee, as among nearly all other tribes, although not often to such an exaggerated extent as in this instance. The noted chief YÂnÛgÛÑski, who died in 1839, had two wives. With the plains tribes, and perhaps with others, the man who marries the eldest of several daughters has prior claim upon her unmarried sisters. 96. The Seneca peacemakers (p. 365): This story was told to Schoolcraft by the Seneca more than fifty years ago. A somewhat similar story is related by Adair (Hist. American Indians, p. 392) of a young “Anantooeah” (i. e., NÛndawegi or Seneca) warrior taken by the Shawano. Death song—It seems to have been a chivalrous custom among the eastern tribes to give to the condemned prisoner who requested it a chance to recite his warlike deeds and to sing his death song before proceeding to the final torture. He was allowed the widest latitude of boasting, even at the expense of his captors and their tribe. The death song was a chant belonging to the warrior himself or to the war society of which he was a member, the burden being farewell to life and defiance to death. When the great Kiowa war chief, Set-Ängya, burst his shackles at Fort Sill and sprang upon the soldiers surrounding him, with the deliberate purpose to sell his life rather than to remain a prisoner, he first sang the war song of his order, the 97. Origin of the YontoÑwisas dance (p. 365): This is evidently the one called by Morgan (League of Iroquois, p. 290) the Untowesus. He describes both this and the Oaskanea as a “shuffle dance” for women only. The spelling of the Seneca names in the story is that given in the manuscript. Not to go after—Morgan, in his work quoted above, asserts that the Iroquois never made any effort to recover those of their people who have been captured by the enemy, choosing to consider them thenceforth as lost to their tribe and kindred. This, if true, is doubly remarkable, in view of the wholesale adoption of prisoners and subjugated tribes by the Iroquois. Blazing pine knots—Torches of seasoned pine knots are much in use among the Cherokee for lighting up the way on journeys along the difficult mountain trails by night. Owing to the accumulation of resin in the knots they burn with a bright and enduring flame, far surpassing the cloudy glow of a lantern. Wild potatoes—As is well known, the potato is indigenous to America, and our first knowledge of it came to us from the Indians. Many other native tubers were in use among the tribes, even those which practiced no agriculture, but depended almost entirely upon the chase. Favorites among the Cherokee are the Cynara scolymus or wild artichoke, and the Phaseolus or pig potato, the name of the latter, nuna, being now used to designate the cultivated potato. Sky people—These spirit messengers are mentioned also in the story of HatcinoÑdoÑ (number 94), another Seneca tradition. Every tribe has its own spirit creation. Must do all this—Every sacred dance and religious rite, as well as almost every important detail of Indian ceremonial, is supposed to be in accordance with direct instruction from the spirit world as communicated in a vision. 98. Ga'na’s adventures among the Cherokee (p. 367): This story, from Curtin’s Seneca manuscript, is particularly rich in Indian allusion. The purificatory rite, the eagle capture, the peace ceremonial, the ballplay, the foot race, and the battle are all described in a way that gives us a vivid picture of the old tribal life. The name of the Seneca hero, Ga'na', signifies, according to Hewitt, “Arrow” (cf. Cherokee gÛni, “arrow”), while the name of the great eagle, Shada'gea, may, according to the same authority, be rendered “Cloud-dweller.” The Seoqgwageono, living east of the Cherokee and near the ocean, can not be identified. They could not have been the Catawba, who were known to the Iroquois as Toderigh-rono, but they may possibly have been the Congaree, Santee, or Sewee, farther down in South Carolina. In the Seneca form, as here given, ge (ge?) is a locative, and ono (oÑnoÑ) a tribal suffix qualifying the root of the word, the whole name signifying “people of, or at, Seoqgwa” (cf. Oyadageono, etc., i. e., Cherokee, p. 186). Go to water—This rite, as practiced among the Cherokee, has been already noted in the chapter on stories and story tellers. Ceremonial purification by water or the sweat bath, accompanied by prayer and fasting, is almost universal among the tribes as a preliminary to every important undertaking. With the Cherokee it precedes the ballplay and the Green-corn dance, and is a part of the ritual for obtaining long life, for winning the affections of a woman, for recovering from a wasting sickness, and for calling down prosperity upon the family at each return of the new moon. Get the eagle feathers—The Cherokee ritual for procuring eagle feathers for ceremonial and decorative purposes has been described in number 35, “The Bird Tribes.” The Seneca method, as here described, is practically that in use among all the Indians of the plains, although the hunter is not usually satisfied with a single feather at a capture. Among certain western tribes the eagle was sometimes strangled before being stripped Stockade—Stockaded villages were common to the Iroquois and most of the tribes along the Atlantic coast. They are mentioned also among the Cherokee in some of the exaggerated narratives of the early Spanish period, but were entirely unknown within the later colonial period, and it is very doubtful if the nature of the country would permit such compact mode of settlement. Dancers went forward—The method of ceremonial approach here described was probably more or less general among the eastern tribes. On the plains the visitors usually dismount in sight of the other camp and advance on foot in slow procession, chanting the “visiting song,” while the leader holds out the red stone pipe, which is the symbol of truce or friendship. For a good description of such a ceremonial, reproduced from Battey, see the author’s Calendar History of the Kiowa Indians, in the Seventeenth Annual Report of the Bureau of American Ethnology. In this instance the visiting Pawnee carried a flag in lieu of a pipe. The Cherokee ceremonial is thus described by Timberlake as witnessed at Citico in 1762: ‘About 100 yards from the town-house we were received by a body of between three and four hundred Indians, ten or twelve of which were entirely naked, except a piece of cloth about their middle, and painted all over in a hideous manner, six of them with eagles’ tails in their hands, which they shook and flourished as they advanced, danced in a very uncommon figure, singing in concert with some drums of their own make, and those of the late unfortunate Capt. Damere; with several other instruments, uncouth beyond description. Cheulah, the headman of the town, led the procession, painted blood-red, except his face, which was half black, holding an old rusty broad-sword in his right hand, and an eagle’s tail in his left. As they approached, Cheulah, singling himself out from the rest, cut two or three capers, as a signal to the other eagle-tails, who instantly followed his example. This violent exercise, accompanied by the band of musick, and a loud yell from the mob, lasted about a minute, when the headman, waving his sword over my head, struck it into the ground, about two inches from my left foot; then directing himself to me, made a short discourse (which my interpreter told me was only to bid me a hearty welcome) and presented me with a string of beads. We then proceeded to the door, where Cheulah, and one of the beloved men, taking me by each arm, led me in, and seated me in one of the first seats; it was so dark that nothing was perceptible till a fresh supply of canes were brought, which being burnt in the middle of the house answers both purposes of fuel and candle. I then discovered about five hundred faces; and Cheulah addressing me a second time, made a speech much to the same effect as the former, congratulating me on my safe arrival thro’ the numerous parties of northern Indians, that generally haunt the way I came. He then made some professions of friendship, concluding with giving me another string of beads, as a token of it. He had scarce finished, when four of those who had exhibited at the procession made their second appearance, painted in milk-white, their eagle-tails in one hand, and small gourds with beads in them in the other, which they rattled in time to the musick. During this dance the peace-pipe was prepared.”—Timberlake, Memoirs, pp. 36–39. Adair also makes brief mention of the ceremony among the Gulf tribes (Hist. Am. Indians, p. 260), but his account is too badly warped by theorizing to have much value. Adopt a relative—This seems to point to a custom which has escaped the notice of earlier writers on the eastern tribes, but which is well known in Africa and other parts of the world, and is closely analogous to a still existing ceremony among the plains Indians by which two young men of the same tribe formally agree to become brothers, and ratify the compact by a public exchange of names and gifts. White wampum—As is well known, white was universally typical of peace. The traditional peace-pipe of the Cherokee was of white stone and the word itself is symbolic of peace and happiness in their oratory and sacred formulas. Thus the speaker at the Green-corn dance invites the people to come along the white path and enter the white house of peace to partake of the new white food. Held up the belt—As already noted, every paragraph of an ambassador’s speech was accompanied by the delivery of a string or belt of wampum to give authority to his words, and to accept the belt was to accept the condition or compact which it typified. On the plains the red stone pipe took the place of the wampum. Try a race—Public foot races were common among many tribes, more particularly in the West among the Pueblos, the Apache, and the Wichita, either as simple athletic contests or in connection with religious ceremonials. On the plains the horse race is more in favor and is always the occasion of almost unlimited betting. Throwing sumac darts—The throwing of darts and arrows, either at a mark or simply to see who can throw farthest, is a favorite amusement among the young men and boys. The arrows used for this purpose are usually longer and heavier than the ordinary ones, having carved wooden heads and being artistically painted. They are sometimes tipped with the end of a buffalo horn. 99. The Shawano wars (p. 370): The chief authority as to the expulsion of the Shawano from Tennessee is Haywood (Natural and Aboriginal History of Tennessee, pp. 222–224). The Schoolcraft reference is from Notes on the Iroquois, p. 160, and the notice of the Cherokee-Delaware war from Loskiel, Mission of United Brethren, p. 128, and Heckewelder, Indian Nations, p. 88. The TunÂ'i story is from Wafford; the other incidents from Swimmer. Shawano—The Shawano or Shawnee were one of the most important of the Algonquian tribes. Their most noted chief was the great Tecumtha. The meaning of the name is doubtful. It is commonly interpreted “Southerners,” from the Algonquian shawan, “the south,” but may have come from another Algonquian word signifying “salt” (siutagan, sewetagan, etc., from sewan, “sweet, pungent”). Unlike the southern Indians generally, the Shawano were great salt users, and carried on an extensive salt manufacture by boiling at the salt springs of southwestern Virginia, furnishing the product in trade to other tribes. They have thirteen clans—Wolf, Loon, Bear, Buzzard, Panther, Owl, Turkey, Deer, Raccoon, Turtle, Snake, Horse, and Rabbit (Morgan), the clan of the individual being indicated by his name. They are organized also into four divisions or bands, perhaps originally independent allied tribes, viz, Piqua, Mequachake, Kiscopocoke, and Chilicothe. To the second of these belonged the hereditary priesthood, but the first was most prominent and apparently most numerous. The Shawano were of very wandering and warlike habit. Their earliest historical habitat appears to have been on the middle Savannah river, which takes its name from them, but before the end of the seventeenth century we find a portion of them, apparently the main body, occupying the basin of the Cumberland river in Tennessee and the adjacent region of Kentucky. About the year 1692 most of those remaining in South Carolina moved northward and settled upon the upper Delaware river, with their relatives and friends the Delaware and Mahican. These emigrants appear to have been of the Piqua division. Up to about the year 1730 the Shawano still had a town on Savannah river, near Augusta, from which they were finally driven by the Cherokee. From their former intimate association with the Uchee, living in the same neighborhood, some early writers have incorrectly supposed the two tribes to be the same. A part of the Shawano joined the Creek confederary, and up to the beginning of the last century, and probably until the final removal to the West, occupied a separate town and retained their distinct language. Those settled upon the Cumberland were afterward expelled by the Cherokee and Chickasaw, and retired to the upper waters of the Ohio under protection of the Delaware, who had given refuge to the original emigrants from South 100. The raid on Tikwali'tsi (p. 374): Swimmer, from whom this story was obtained, was of opinion that the event occurred when his mother was a little girl, say about 1795, but it must have been earlier. The locations are all in Swain county, North Carolina. Tikwali'tsi town was on Tuckasegee river, at the present Bryson City, immediately below and adjoining the more important town of Kituhwa. Deep creek enters the Tuckasegee from the north, about a mile above Bryson City. The place where the trail crossed is called Uniga'yata?ti'yi, “Where they made a fish trap,” a name which may have suggested the simile used by the story teller. The place where the Cherokee crossed, above Deep creek, is called UniyÂ'hitÛÑ'yi, “Where they shot it.” The cliff over which the prisoners were thrown is called Kala'asÛÑyi, “Where he fell off,” near Cold Spring knob, west of Deep creek. The Cherokee halted for a night at Agitsta?ti'yi, “Where they staid up all night,” a few miles beyond, on the western head fork of Deep creek. They passed KÛnstÛtsi'yi, “Sassafras place,” a gap about the head of Noland creek, near Clingman’s dome, and finally gave up the pursuit where the trail crossed into Tennessee, at a gap on the main ridge, just below Clingman’s dome, known as Duniya'?tÂ?lÛÑ'yi, “Where there are shelves,” so called from an exposure of flat rock on the top of the ridge (see the glossary). Magic arts—It is almost superfluous to state that no Indian war party ever started out without a vast deal of conjuring and “making medicine” to discover the whereabouts and strength of the enemy and to insure victory and safe return to the departing warriors. Wait for death—The Indian usually meets inevitable fate with equanimity, and more than once in our Indian wars an aged warrior or helpless woman, unable to escape, has sat down upon the ground, and, with blanket drawn over the head, calmly awaited the fatal bullet or hatchet stroke. 101. The last Shawano invasion (p. 374): This story also is from Swimmer, whose antiquarian interest in the history of these wars may have been heightened by the fact that he had a slight strain of Shawano blood himself. The descendants of the old chief Sawanu'gi and his brothers, originally of Shawano stock, as the name indicates, have been prominent in the affairs of the East Cherokee for more than half a century, and one of them, bearing the ancestral name, is now second chief of the band and starter of the game at every large ballplay. The cry of an owl—One of the commonest claims put forth by the medicine men is that of ability to understand the language of birds and to obtain supernatural knowledge from them, particularly from the owl, which is regarded with a species of fear by the laity, as the embodiment of a human ghost, on account of its nocturnal habit and generally uncanny appearance. A medicine man who died a few years ago among the Kiowa claimed to derive his powers from that bird. The body of an owl, Rafts—The Cherokee canoe is hewn from a poplar log and is too heavy to be carried about like the bark canoe of the northern tribes. As a temporary expedient they sometimes used a bear or buffalo skin, tying the legs together at each end to fashion a rude boat. Upon this the baggage was loaded, while the owner swam behind, pushing it forward through the water. 102. The false warriors of Chilhowee (p. 375): This story was given by Swimmer and corroborated by others as that of an actual incident of the old times. The middle Cherokee (Kituhwa) settlements, on the head-streams of the Little Tennessee, were separated from the upper settlements, about its junction with the main Tennessee, by many miles of extremely rough mountain country. Dialectic differences and local jealousies bred friction, which sometimes brought the two sections into collision and rendered possible such an occurrence as is here narrated. On account of this jealousy, according to Adair, the first Cherokee war, which began in 1760, concerned for some time only a part of the tribe. “According to the well-known temper of the Cheerake in similar cases it might either have remained so, or soon have been changed into a very hot civil war, had we been so wise as to have improved the favourable opportunity. There were seven northern towns, opposite to the middle parts of the Cheerake country, who from the beginning of the unhappy grievances, firmly dissented from the hostile intentions of their suffering and enraged countrymen, and for a considerable time before bore them little good will, on account of some family disputes which occasioned each party to be more favourable to itself than to the other. These would readily have gratified their vindictive disposition either by a neutrality or an offensive alliance with our colonists against them” (History of the American Indians, page 248). Chilhowee (properly TsÛ?lÛÑ'we or TsÛ?la'wi) was a noted settlement on the south bank of Little Tennessee river, opposite the present Chilhowee, in Monroe county, Tennessee. Cowee (properly Kawi'yi, abbreviated Kawi') was the name of two or more former settlements. The one here meant was at the junction of Cowee creek with Little Tennessee river, a short distance below the present Franklin, in Macon county, North Carolina. Neither name can be analyzed. The gunstocker’s name, GÛlsadi'hi or GÛltsadi'hi, and that of the original owner of the gun, GÛÑskali'ski, are both of doubtful etymology. Great war trail—See historical note 19. Scalp dance—This dance, common to every tribe east of the Rocky mountains, was held to celebrate the taking of fresh scalps from the enemy. The scalps, painted red on the fleshy side, decorated and stretched in small hoops attached to the ends of poles, were carried in the dance by the wives and sweethearts of the warriors, while in the pauses of the song each warrior in turn recited his exploits in minute detail. Among the Cherokee it was customary for the warrior as he stepped into the center of the circle to suggest to the drummer an improvised song which summed up in one or two words his own part in the encounter. A new “war name” was frequently assumed after the dance (see sketch of Tsunu'lahÛÑ'ski, page 164). Dances were held over the same scalps on consecutive nights or sometimes at short intervals for weeks together. Coming for water—The getting of water from the neighboring stream or spring was a daily duty of the women, and accordingly we find in Indian stories constant allusion to ambuscades or lovers’ appointments at such places. To have a ballplay—See note under number 3, Kana'ti and Selu. 103. Cowee town: See the preceeding note. 104. The eastern tribes (p. 378): Delaware—The Delawares derive their popular name from the river upon which, in the earliest colonial period, they had their principal settlements. They call themselves Lena'pe or Leni-lena'pe, a term apparently signifying “real, or original men,” or “men of our kind.” To the cognate tribes of the Ohio valley and the lakes they were known as Wapanaq'ki, “easterners,” the name being extended to include the closely related tribes, the Mahican, Wappinger (i. e. Wapanaq'ki), Nanticoke, and Conoy. By all the widespread tribes of kindred Algonquian stock, as well as by the Winnebago, Wyandot, and Cherokee, they were addressed under the respectful title of “grandfather,” the domineering Iroquois alone refusing to them any higher designation than “nephew.” Their various bands and subtribes seem originally to have occupied the whole basin of Delaware river, together with all of New Jersey, extending north to the watershed of the Hudson and west and southwest to the ridge separating the waters of the Delaware and Susquehanna. Immediately north of them, along the lower Hudson and extending into Massachusetts and Connecticut, were the closely affiliated Mahican and Wappinger, while to the south were their friends and kindred, the Nanticoke and Conoy, the former in Delaware and on the eastern shore of Maryland, the latter between Chesapeake bay and the lower Potomac. All of these, although speaking different languages of the common Algonquian stock, asserted their traditional origin from the Delawares, with whom, in their declining days, most of them were again merged. The Delawares proper were organized into three divisions, which, according to Brinton, were subtribes and not clans, although each of the three had a totemic animal by whose name it was commonly known. These three subtribes were: (1) The Minsi or Munsee (people of the “stony country”?), otherwise known as the Wolf tribe, occupying the hill country about the head of the Delaware; (2) the Unami (people “downstream”), or Turtle tribe, on the middle Delaware, and (3) the Unalachtgo (people “near the ocean”?), or Turkey tribe, in the southern part of the common territory. Of these the Turtle tribe assumed precedence in the council, while to the Wolf tribe belonged the leadership in war. Each of these three was divided into twelve families, or embryonic clans, bearing female names. In this connection it may be mentioned that the Delawares now residing with the Wichita, in Oklahoma, still use the figure of a turtle as their distinctive cattle brand. Of the history of the Delawares it is only possible to say a very few words here. Their earliest European relations were with the Dutch and Swedes. In 1682 they made the famous treaty with William Penn, which was faithfully observed on both sides for sixty years. Gradually forced backward by the whites, they retired first to the Susquehanna, then to the upper Ohio, where, on the breaking out of the French and Indian war in 1754, they ranged themselves on the side of the French. They fought against the Americans in the Revolution, and in the war of 1812, having by that time been driven as far west as Indiana. In 1818 they ceded all their lands in that State and were assigned to a reservation in Kansas, where they were joined by a considerable body that had emigrated to Missouri, in company with a band of Shawano, some years before, by permission of the Spanish government. About the close of the Revolution another portion of the tribe, including most of those who had been Christianized by Moravian missionaries, had fled from Ohio and taken up a permanent abode on Canadian soil. In 1867 the main body of those in Kansas removed to Indian Territory and became incorporated with the Cherokee Nation. A smaller band settled on the Wichita reservation in Oklahoma. The present number of Delawares is, approximately, 1,600, viz: “Moravians and Munsees of the Thames,” Ontario, 475; incorporated in Cherokee Nation, 870 (in 1898); on Wichita reservation, 95; Munsee in Kansas and incorporated with Stockbridges in Wisconsin, perhaps 100; Delawares, etc., with Six Nations, in New York, 50. Of their former allies, the Wappinger and Conoy have long since disappeared Tuscarora—The Tuscarora, a southern tribe of the Iroquoian stock, formerly occupied an extensive territory upon Neuse river and its branches, in eastern North Carolina, and, like their northern cousins, seem to have assumed and exercised a certain degree of authority over all the smaller tribes about them. As early as 1670 Lederer described the Tuscarora “emperor” as the haughtiest Indian he had ever met. About the year 1700 Lawson estimated them at 1,200 warriors (6,000 souls?) in 15 towns. In 1711 they rose against the whites, one of their first acts of hostility being the killing of Lawson himself, who was engaged in surveying lands which they claimed as their own. In a struggle extending over about two years they were so terribly decimated that the greater portion fled from Carolina and took refuge with their kinsmen and friends, the Iroquois of New York, who were henceforth known as the Six Nations. The so-called “friendly” party, under Chief Blount, was settled upon a small reservation north of Roanoke river in what is now Bertie county, North Carolina. Here they gradually decreased by disease and emigration to the north, until the few who were left sold their last remaining lands in 1804. The history of the tribe after the removal to the north is a part of the history of the Iroquois or Six Nations. They number now about 750, of whom about 380 are on the Tuscarora reservation in New York, the others upon the Grand River reservation in Ontario. Xuala, Suwali, Sara or Cheraw—For the identification and earliest notices of the Sara see historical note 8, “De Soto’s Route.” Their later history is one of almost constant hostility to the whites until their final incorporation with the Catawba, with whom they were probably cognate, about the year 1720. In 1743 they still preserved their distinct language, and appear to be last mentioned in 1768, when they numbered about 50 souls living among the Catawba. See Mooney, Siouan Tribes of the East, bulletin of the Bureau of Ethnology, 1894. Catawba—The origin and meaning of this name, which dates back at least two centuries, are unknown. It may possibly come from the Choctaw through the Mobilian trade jargon. They call themselves Nieye, which means simply “people” or “Indians.” The Iroquois call them and other cognate tribes in their vicinity Toderigh-rono, whence Tutelo. In the seventeenth century they were often known as Esaw or Ushery, apparently from iswa', river, in their own language. The Cherokee name Ata'gwa, plural Ani'ta'gwa, is a corruption of the popular form. Their linguistic affinity with the Siouan stock was established by Gatschet in 1881. See Mooney, Siouan Tribes of the East. 105. The southern and western tribes (p. 382): The Creek confederacy—Next in importance to the Cherokee, among the southern tribes, were the Indians of the Creek confederacy, occupying the greater portion of Georgia and Alabama, immediately south of the Cherokee. They are said to have been called Creeks by the early traders on account of the abundance of small streams in their country. Before the whites began to press upon them their tribes held nearly all the territory from the Atlantic westward to about the watershed between the Tombigby and the Pearl and Pascagoula rivers, being cut off from the Gulf coast by the Choctaw tribes, and from the Savannah, except near the mouth, by the Uchee, Shawano, and Cherokee. About the year 1800 the confederacy comprised 75 towns, the people of 47 of which were the Upper Creeks, centering about the upper waters of the Alabama, while those of the remaining 28 were the Lower Creeks, upon the lower Chattahoochee and its branches (Hawkins). Among them were represented a number of tribes formerly distinct and speaking distinct languages. The ruling tribe and language was the Muscogee (plural, MuscogÛlgee), which frequently gave its name to the confederacy. Other languages were the Alabama, Koasati, Hichitee, Taskigi, Uchee, Natchee, and Sawanugi The Uchee, Natchee, and Sawanugi were incorporated tribes, differing radically in language from each other and from the Muskhogean tribes. The territory of the Uchee included both banks of the middle Savannah, below the Cherokee, and extended into middle Georgia. They had a strong race pride, claiming to be older in the country than the Muscogee, and are probably identical with the people of Cofitachiqui, mentioned in the early Spanish narratives. According to Hawkins, their incorporation with the Creeks was brought about in consequence of intermarriages about the year 1729. The Natchee or Natchez were an important tribe residing in lower Mississippi, in the vicinity of the present town of that name, until driven out by the French about the year 1730, when most of them took refuge with the Creeks, while others joined the Chickasaw and Cherokee. The Sawanugi were Shawano who kept their town on Savannah river, near the present Augusta, after the main body of their tribe had removed to the north about 1692. They probably joined the Creeks about the same time as their friends, the Uchee. The Uchee still constitute a compact body of about 600 souls in the Creek Nation, keeping up their distinct language and tribal character. The Natchee are reduced to one or two old men, while the Sawanugi have probably lost their identity long ago. According to Morgan, the Muscogee proper, and perhaps also their incorporated tribes, have 22 clans. Of these the Wind appears to be the leading one, possessing privileges accorded to no other clan, including the hereditary guardianship of the ancient metal tablets which constitute the palladium of the tribe. By the treaty of Washington in 1832, the Creeks sold all of their remaining lands in their old country and agreed to remove west of the Mississippi to what is now the Creek Nation in the Indian Territory. The removal extended over a period of several years and was not finally accomplished until 1845. In 1898 the citizen population of the Creek Nation numbered 14,771, of whom 10,014 were of Indian blood and the remainder were negroes, their former slaves. It appears that the Indian population included about 700 from other tribes, chiefly Cherokee. There are also about 300 Alabama, “Cushatta” (Koasati), and Muscogee in Texas. See also Hawkins, Sketch of the Creek Country; Gatschet, Creek Migration Legend; Adair, History of the American Indians; Bartram, Travels; The Five Civilized Tribes, Bulletin of the Eleventh Census; Wyman, in Alabama Historical Society Collections. Chickasaw—This tribe, of Muskhogean stock, formerly occupied northern Mississippi and adjacent portions of Alabama and Tennessee, and at an early period had incorporated also several smaller tribes on Yazoo river in central Mississippi, chief among which were the cognate Chokchuma. The name occurs first in the De Soto narrative. The Chickasaw language was simply a dialect of Choctaw, although the two tribes were hereditary enemies and differed widely in character, the former being active and warlike, while the latter were notoriously sluggish. Throughout the colonial period the Chickasaw were the constant enemies of the French and friends of the English, but they remained neutral in the Revolution. By the treaty of Pontotoc in 1832 they sold their lands east of the Mississippi and agreed to remove to Indian Territory, where they are now organized as the Chickasaw Nation. According to Morgan they have 12 clans grouped into two phratries. In 1890, the citizen population of the Nation (under Chickasaw laws) consisted of 3,941 full-blood and mixed-blood Chickasaw, 681 adopted whites, 131 adopted negroes, and 946 The Choctaw confederacy—This was a loose alliance of tribes, chiefly of Muskhogean stock, occupying southern Alabama and Mississippi, with the adjacent Gulf coast of western Florida and eastern Louisiana. The Choctaw proper, of Muskhogean stock, occupying south central Mississippi, was the dominant tribe. Smaller tribes more or less closely affiliated were the Mobilian, Tohome, Mugulasha, Pascagoula, Biloxi, Acolapissa, Bayagoula, Houma, with others of less note. It had been assumed that all of these were of Muskhogean stock until Gatschet in 1886 established the fact that the Biloxi were of Siouan affinity, and it is quite probable that the Pascagoula also were of the same connection. All the smaller tribes excepting the Biloxi were practically extinct, or had entirely lost their identity, before the year 1800. The Choctaw were one of the largest of the eastern tribes, being exceeded in numbers, if at all, only by the Cherokee; but this apparent superiority was neutralized by their unwarlike character and lack of cohesion. According to Morgan, whose statement has, however, been challenged, they had eight clans grouped into two phratries. There was also a geographic division into “Long towns,” “Potato-eating towns,” and “Six towns,” the last named differing considerably in dialect and custom from the others. By treaties in 1820 and 1830 the Choctaw sold all their lands east of the Mississippi and agreed to remove to Indian Territory, where they now constitute the Choctaw Nation. A considerable number of vagrant Choctaw who had drifted into Louisiana and Arkansas at an early period have since joined their kindred in Indian Territory, but from 1,000 to 2,000 are still scattered along the swampy Gulf coast of Mississippi. In 1890 those of pure or mixed Choctaw blood in the Choctaw Nation were officially reported to number 10,211. In 1899, under different conditions of citizenship, the “Choctaw by blood” were put at 14,256, while the adopted whites and negroes numbered 5,150. See also Gatschet, Creek Migration Legend; The Five Civilized Tribes, Bulletin of Eleventh Census. The Osage—The popular name is a corruption of Ouasage, the French spelling of Wasash, the name used by themselves. The Osage were the principal southern Siouan tribe, claiming at one time nearly the whole territory from the Missouri to the Arkansas and from the Mississippi far out into the plains. Their geographic position brought them equally into contact with the agricultural and sedentary tribes of the eastern country and the roving hunters of the prairie, and in tribal habit and custom they formed a connecting link between the two. Whether or not they deserved the reputation, they were considered by all their neighbors as particularly predatory and faithless in character, and had consequently few friends, but were generally at war with all tribes alike. They made their first treaty with the Government in 1808. In 1825 they ceded all their claims in Missouri and Arkansas, together with considerable territory in what is now Kansas. They have decreased terribly from war and dissipation, and are now, to the number of about 1,780, gathered upon a reservation in Oklahoma just west of the Cherokee and south of the Kansas line. 106. The Giants from the west (p. 391): This may be an exaggerated account of a visit from some warriors of a taller tribe from the plains, where it is customary to pluck out the eyebrows and to wear the hair in two long side pendants, wrapped round with otter skin and reaching to the knees, thus giving a peculiar expression to the eyes and an appearance of tallness which is sometimes deceptive. The Osage warriors have, however, long been noted for their height. With the exception of Tsul?kalÛ' there seem to be no giants in the mythology of 107. The lost Cherokee (p. 391): This tradition as here given is taken chiefly from the Wahnenauhi manuscript. There is a persistent belief among the Cherokee that a portion of their people once wandered far to the west or southwest, where they were sometimes heard of afterward, but were never again reunited with their tribe. It was the hope of verifying this tradition and restoring his lost kinsmen to their tribe that led Sequoya to undertake the journey on which he lost his life. These traditional lost Cherokee are entirely distinct from the historic emigrants who removed from the East shortly after the Revolution. Similar stories are common to nearly all the tribes. Thus the Kiowa tell of a chief who, many years ago, quarreled over a division of game and led his people far away across the Rocky mountains, where they are still living somewhere about the British border and still keeping their old Kiowa language. The Tonkawa tell of a band of their people who in some way were cut off from the tribe by a sudden inroad of the sea on the Texas coast, and, being unable to return, gradually worked their way far down into Mexico. The Tuscarora tell how, in their early wanderings, they came to the Mississippi and were crossing over to the west side by means of a grapevine, when the vine broke, leaving those on the farther side to wander off until in time they became enemies to those on the eastern bank. See Mooney, Calendar History of the Kiowa Indians, Seventeenth Annual Report Bureau of American Ethnology, part 1, and The Last of Our Cannibals, in Harper’s Magazine, August, 1901; Cusick, quoted in Schoolcraft, Notes on the Iroquois, p. 478. 108. The massacre of the Ani'-Kuta'ni (p. 392): Swimmer, Ta'gwadihi', AyÂsta, and Wafford all knew this name, which AyÂsta pronounced Ani'-Kwata'ni, but none of them could tell anything more definite than has been stated in the opening sentence. The hereditary transmission of priestly dignities in a certain clan or band is rather the rule than the exception Among the tribes, both east and west. 109. The war medicine (p. 393): The first two paragraphs are from Wafford, the rest from Swimmer. The stories are characteristic of Indian belief and might be paralleled in any tribe. The great Kiowa chief, Set-Ängya, already mentioned, was—and still is—believed by his tribe to have possessed a magic knife, which he carried in his stomach and could produce from his mouth at will. The Kiowa assert that it was this knife, which of course the soldiers failed to find when disarming him, with which he attacked the guard in the encounter that resulted in his death. 110. Incidents of personal heroism (p. 394): The incident of the fight at Waya gap is on the authority of the late Maj. James Bryson, of Dillsboro, North Carolina, born in 1818, who had it from his great-uncle, Daniel Bryson, a member of Williamson’s expedition. Speaking of the Cherokee “War Women,” who were admitted to the tribal councils, Timberlake says (Memoirs, p. 70): “The reader will not be a little surprised to find the story of Amazons not so great a fable as we imagined, many of the Indian women being as famous in war as powerful in the Council.” 111. The mounds and the constant fire: The old sacred things (p. 395): What is here said concerning the mounds, based chiefly upon Swimmer’s recital, is given solely A note by John Howard Payne upon the sacred square of the Creeks, as observed by him in 1835, just before his visit to the Cherokee, may throw further light on the problem: “In the center of this outer square was a very high circular mound. This, it seems, was formed from the earth accumulated yearly by removing the surface of the sacred square thither. At every Green-corn festival the sacred square is strewn with soil yet untrodden; the soil of the year preceding being taken away, but preserved as above explained. No stranger’s foot is allowed to press the new earth of the sacred square until its consecration is complete” (Letter of 1835 in Continental Monthly, New York, 1862, p. 19). See note on the sacred fire. Conjured with disease—The practice of conjuring certain favorite spots in order to render them fatal to an invading enemy was common to many if not to all tribes. One of the most terrible battles of the Creek war was fought upon the “Holy ground,” so called because it was believed by the Indians that in consequence of the mystic rites which had been performed there for that purpose by their prophets, no white troops could set foot upon it and live. The sacred fire—The method described for producing fire and keeping it constantly smoldering in the townhouse appears to have been that actually in use in ancient times, as indicated by the name given to the plant (atsil'-sÛÑti), and corroborated by the unanimous testimony of the old people. All the older East Cherokee believe that the ancient fire still burns within the mounds at Franklin and Bryson City, and those men who were stationed for a time near the latter place while in the Confederate service, during the Civil war, assert that they frequently saw the smoke rising from the adjacent mound. The missionary Buttrick, from old Cherokee authority, says: “They were obliged to make new fire for sacred purposes by rubbing two pieces of dry wood together, with a certain weed, called golden rod, dry, between them.... When their enemies destroyed the house in which this holy fire was kept, it was said the fire settled down into the earth, where it still lives, though unknown to the people. The place where they lost this holy fire is somewhere in one of the Carolinas” (Antiquities, p. 9). The general accuracy of Swimmer’s account is strikingly confirmed by the description of the New-fire ceremony given more than half a century before by John Howard Payne, the poet, who had gone among the Cherokee to study their ethnology and was engaged in that work when arrested, together with John Ross, by the Georgia guard in 1835. He makes the kindling of the new fire a part of the annual spring festival. At that time, says Payne, “the altar in the center of the national heptagon [i.e. townhouse] was repaired. It was constructed of a conical shape, of fresh earth. A circle was drawn around the top to receive the fire of sacrifice. Upon this was laid, ready for use, the inner bark of seven different kinds of trees. This bark was carefully chosen from the east side of the trees, and was clear and free from blemish.” After some days of preliminary purification, sacrifice, and other ceremonial performances, the day appointed for the kindling of the new fire arrived. “Early in the morning the seven persons who were commissioned to kindle the fire commenced their operations. One was the official fire-maker; the remaining six his assistants. A hearth was carefully cleared and prepared. A round hole being made in a block of wood, a small quantity of dry golden-rod weed was placed in it. A stick, the end of which just fitted the opening, was whirled rapidly until the weed took fire. The flame was then kindled on the hearth and thence taken to every house by the women, who collectively waited for that purpose. The old fires having been everywhere extinguished, and the hearths cleansed, new fires were lighted Similar ceremonies were common to many tribes, particularly the southern tribes and the Pueblos, in connection with the annual kindling of the sacred new fire. See Adair, History of the American Indians; Hawkins, Sketch of the Creek Country, quoted by Gatschet, Creek Migration Legend; Bartram, Travels; Fewkes, The New-fire Ceremony at Walpi, in American Anthropologist for January, 1900; Squier, Serpent Symbol. Going beyond our own boundaries it may be said briefly that fire worship was probably as ancient as ritual itself and well-nigh as universal. Wooden box—The sacred ark of the Cherokee is described by Adair (History of the American Indians, pp. 161–162), and its capture by the Delawares is mentioned by Washburn (Reminiscences, pp. 191, 221), who states that to its loss the old priests of the tribe ascribed the later degeneracy of their people. They refused to tell him the contents of the ark. On this subject Adair says: “A gentleman who was at the Ohio in the year 1756 assured me he saw a stranger there very importunate to view the inside of the Cheerake ark, which was covered with a drest deerskin and placed on a couple of short blocks. An Indian centinel watched it, armed with a hiccory bow and brass-pointed barbed arrows; and he was faithful to his trust, for finding the stranger obtruding to pollute the supposed sacred vehicle, he drew an arrow to the head, and would have shot him through the body had he not suddenly withdrawn. The interpreter, when asked by the gentleman what it contained, told him there was nothing in it but a bundle of conjuring traps. This shews what conjurers our common interpreters are, and how much the learned world have really profited by their informations.” Such tribal palladiums or “medicines,” upon which the existence and prosperity of the tribe are supposed to depend, are still preserved among the plains Indians, the sacred receptacle in each case being confided to the keeping of a priest appointed for the purpose, who alone is privileged to undo the wrappings or expose the contents. Among these tribal “medicines” may be mentioned the sacred arrows of the Cheyenne, the “flat pipe” of the Arapaho, the great shell of the Omaha, and the taime image of the Kiowa (see reference in the author’s Ghost-dance Religion and Calendar History of the Kiowa Indians). White peace pipe—This statement concerning the ancient seven-stem peace pipe carved from white stone is given on the authority of Swimmer, who said that the stone was procured from a quarry near the present town of Knoxville, Tennessee. A certain district of western North Carolina has recently acquired an unenviable reputation for the manufacture of spurious “Indian pipes,” ostensibly taken from the mounds, carved from soapstone and having from three to half a dozen stem-holes encircling the bowl. Turtle drum—This statement is on the authority of Wafford, who had talked with men who claimed to have known those who had seen the drum. He was not positive as to the town, but thought it was Keowee. It is believed that the drum was hidden by the Indians, in anticipation of their speedy return, when the country was invaded by Williamson in 1776, but as the country was never recovered by the Cherokee the drum was lost. 112–115. Short humorous stories (pp. 397, 399): These short stories are fairly representative of Cherokee humor. Each was heard repeatedly from several informants, both east and west. 116. The star feathers (p. 399): This story was obtained from John Ax, with additional details from Chief Smith and others, to whom it was equally familiar. It is told as an actual happening in the early days, before the Indian had much acquaintance with the whites, and is thoroughly characteristic of the methods of medicine-men. The Indian has always been noted for his love of feather decorations, and more than any from his native birds he prized the beautiful feathers of the peacock whenever it was possible to procure them from the whites. So far back as 1670 Lederer noted of a South Carolina tribe: “The Ushery delight much in feather ornament, of which they have great variety; but peacocks in most esteem, because rare in these parts” (Travels, p. 32, ed. 1891). 117. The mother bear’s song (p. 400): The first of these songs was obtained from AyÂsta, and was unknown to Swimmer. The second song was obtained also from AyÂsta, who knew only the verses, while Swimmer knew both the verses and the story which gives them their setting. The first has an exact parallel among the Creeks, which is thus given in the “Baby Songs” of the Tuggle manuscript:
Translation If you hear the noise of the chase Going down the stream Then run up the stream. If you hear the noise of the chase Going up the stream Then run to the high mountain, Then run to the high mountain. 118. Baby song, to please the children (p. 401): This song is well known to the women and was sung by both AyÂsta and Swimmer. 119. When babies are born: The wren and the cricket (p. 401): These little bits of Indian folklore were obtained from Swimmer, but are common tribal property. 120. The Raven Mocker (p. 401): The grewsome belief in the “Raven Mocker” is universal among the Cherokee and has close parallels in other tribes. Very near to it is the Iroquois belief in the vampire or cannibal ghost, concerning which Schoolcraft relates some blood-curdling stories. He says: “It is believed that such doomed spirits creep into the lodges of men at night, and during sleep suck their blood and eat their flesh. They are invisible” (Notes on the Iroquois, p. 144). On one occasion, while the author was among the Cherokee, a sick man was allowed to die alone because his friends imagined they felt the presence of the Raven Mocker or other invisible witches about the house, and were consequently afraid to stay with him. The description of the flying terror appears to be that of a great meteor. It is a universal principle of folk belief that discovery or recognition while disguised in another form brings disaster to the witch. The “diving” of the raven while flying high in air is performed by folding one wing close to the body, when the bird falls to a lower plane, apparently turning a somersault in the descent. It seems to be done purely for amusement. 121. Herbert’s spring (p. 403): The subject of this old trader’s legend must have been one of the head-springs of Chattooga river, an upper branch of Savannah, having its rise in the southern part of Jackson county, North Carolina, on the eastern slope of the ridge from which other streams flow in the opposite direction to join the waters of the Tennessee. It was probably in the vicinity of the present highlands in Macon county, where the trail from Chattooga river and the settlements on Keowee crossed the Blue ridge, thence descending Cullasagee to the towns on Little Tennessee. 126. Plant lore (p. 420): For ceremonies, prayers, and precautions used by the doctors in connection with the gathering and preparation of medicinal roots, barks, and herbs, see the author’s Sacred Formulas of the Cherokees, in the Seventh Annual Report of the Bureau of Ethnology, 1891. Violet—The Onondaga name signifies “two heads entangled,” referring, we are told, to “the way so often seen where the heads are interlocked and pulled apart by the stems” (W. M. Beauchamp, in Journal of American Folk-Lore, October, 1888). Cedar—For references to the sacred character of the cedar among the plains tribes, see the author’s Ghost-dance Religion, in the Fourteenth Annual Report of the Bureau of Ethnology, part 2, 1896. Linn and basswood—The ancient Tuscarora believed that no tree but black gum was immune from lightning, which, they declared, would run round the tree a great many times seeking in vain to effect an entrance. Lawson, who records the belief, adds: “Now, you must understand that sort of gum will not split or rive: therefore, I suppose the story might arise from thence” (Carolina, pp. 345–346, ed. 1860). The Pawnee claim the same immunity for the cedar, and throw sprigs of it as incense upon the fire during storms to turn aside the lightning stroke (Grinnell, Pawnee Hero Stories, p. 126). Ginseng—For more concerning this plant see the author’s Sacred Formulas, above mentioned. |