In the old times the people used to dance often and all night. Once
there was a dance at the old town of Sâkwi'yi, on the head of
Chattahoochee, and after it was well started two young women with
beautiful long hair came in, but no one knew who they were or whence
they had come. They danced with one partner and another, and in the
morning slipped away before anyone knew that they were gone; but a
young warrior had fallen in love with one of the sisters on account of
her beautiful hair, and after the manner of the Cherokee had already
asked her through an old man if she would marry him and let him live
with her. To this the young woman had replied that her brother at home
must first be consulted, and they promised to return for the next dance
seven days later with an answer, but in the meantime if the young man
really loved her he must prove his constancy by a rigid fast until
then. The eager lover readily agreed and impatiently counted the days.
In seven nights there was another dance. The young warrior was on hand
early, and later in the evening the two sisters appeared as suddenly as
before. They told him their brother was willing, and after the dance
they would conduct the young man to their home, but warned him that
if he told anyone where he went or what he saw he would surely die.
He danced with them again and about daylight the three came away just
before the dance closed, so as to avoid being followed, and started off
together. The women led the way along a trail through the woods, which
the young man had never noticed before, until they came to a small
creek, where, without hesitating, they stepped into the water. The
young man paused in surprise on the bank and thought to himself,
"They are walking in the water; I don't want to do that." The women
knew his thoughts just as though he had spoken and turned and said
to him, "This is not water; this is the road to our house." He still
hesitated, but they urged him on until he stepped into the water and
found it was only soft grass that made a fine level trail.
They went on until the trail came to a large stream which he knew
for Tallulah river. The women plunged boldly in, but again the
warrior hesitated on the bank, thinking to himself, "That water is
very deep and will drown me; I can't go on." They knew his thoughts
and turned and said, "This is no water, but the main trail that goes
past our house, which is now close by." He stepped in, and instead
of water there was tall waving grass that closed above his head as
he followed them.
They went only a short distance and came to a rock cave close under
Ugûñ'yi (Tallulah falls). The women entered, while the warrior
stopped at the mouth; but they said, "This is our house; come in and
our brother will soon be home; he is coming now." They heard low
thunder in the distance. He went inside and stood up close to the
entrance. Then the women took off their long hair and hung it up on
a rock, and both their heads were as smooth as a pumpkin. The man
thought, "It is not hair at all," and he was more frightened than ever.
The younger woman, the one he was about to marry, then sat down and
told him to take a seat beside her. He looked, and it was a large
turtle, which raised itself up and stretched out its claws as if angry
at being disturbed. The young man said it was a turtle, and refused
to sit down, but the woman insisted that it was a seat. Then there
was a louder roll of thunder and the woman said, "Now our brother is
nearly home." While they urged and he still refused to come nearer
or sit down, suddenly there was a great thunder clap just behind him,
and turning quickly he saw a man standing in the doorway of the cave.
"This is my brother," said the woman, and he came in and sat down
upon the turtle, which again rose up and stretched out its claws. The
young warrior still refused to come in. The brother then said that he
was just about to start to a council, and invited the young man to go
with him. The hunter said he was willing to go if only he had a horse;
so the young woman was told to bring one. She went out and soon came
back leading a great uktena snake, that curled and twisted along the
whole length of the cave. Some people say this was a white uktena
and that the brother himself rode a red one. The hunter was terribly
frightened, and said "That is a snake; I can't ride that." The others
insisted that it was no snake, but their riding-horse. The brother grew
impatient and said to the woman, "He may like it better if you bring
him a saddle, and some bracelets for his wrists and arms." So they
went out again and brought in a saddle and some arm bands, and the
saddle was another turtle, which they fastened on the uktena's back,
and the bracelets were living slimy snakes, which they got ready to
twist around the hunter's wrists.
He was almost dead with fear, and said, "What kind of horrible place
is this? I can never stay here to live with snakes and creeping
things." The brother got very angry and called him a coward, and then
it was as if lightening flashed from his eyes and struck the young man,
and a terrible crash of thunder stretched him senseless.
When at last he came to himself again he was standing with his feet
in the water and both hands grasping a laurel bush that grew out from
the bank, and there was no trace of the cave or the Thunder People,
but he was alone in the forest. He made his way out and finally reached
his own settlement, but found then that he had been gone so very long
that all the people had thought him dead, although to him it seemed
only the day after the dance. His friends questioned him closely, and,
forgetting the warning, he told the story; but in seven days he died,
for no one can come back from the underworld and tell it and live.