126. PLANT LORE

The Cherokee have always been an agricultural people, and their old

country is a region of luxuriant flora, with tall trees and tangled

undergrowth on the slopes and ridges, and myriad bright-tinted blossoms

and sweet wild fruits along the running streams. The vegetable kingdom

consequently holds a far more important place in the mythology and

ceremonial of the tribe than it does among the Indians of the treeless

plains and arid sage deserts of the West, most of the beliefs and

customs in this connection centering around the practice of medicine,

as expounded by the priests and doctors in every settlement. In general

it is held that the plant world is friendly to the human species,

and constantly at the willing service of the doctors to counteract

the jealous hostility of the animals. The sacred formulas contain

many curious instructions for the gathering and preparation of the

medicinal roots and barks, which are selected chiefly in accordance

with the theory of correspondences.

The Indians are close observers, and some of their plant names are

peculiarly apt. Thus the mistletoe, which never grows alone, but is

found always with its roots fixed in the bark of some supporting

tree or shrub from which it draws its sustenance, is called by a

name which signifies "it is married" (uda'`li). The violet is still

called by a plural name, dinda'skwate'ski, "they pull each other's

heads off," showing that the Cherokee children have discovered a game

not unknown among our own. The bear-grass (Eryngium), with its long,

slender leaves like diminutive blades of corn, is called salikwâ'yi,

"greensnake," and the larger grass known as Job's tears, on account

of its glossy, rounded grains, which the Indian children use for

necklaces, is called sel-utsi', "the mother of corn." The black-eyed

Susan (Rudbeckia) of our children is the "deer-eye" (a`wi'-akta')

of the Cherokee, and our lady-slipper (Cypripedium) is their

"partridge moccasin" (gugwe'-ulasu'la). The May-apple (Podophyllum),

with its umbrella-shaped top, is called u'niskwetu'`gi, meaning "it

wears a hat," while the white puffball fungus is nakwisi'-usdi',

"the little star," and the common rock lichen bears the musical,

if rather unpoetic, name of utsale'ta, "pot scrapings." Some plants

are named from their real or supposed place in the animal economy,

as the wild rose, tsist-uni'gisti, "the rabbits eat it"--referring

to the seed berries--and the shield fern (Aspidium), yân-utse'stû,

"the bear lies on it." Others, again, are named from their domestic

or ceremonial uses, as the fleabane (Erigeron canadense), called

atsil'-sûñ`ti, "fire maker," because its dried stalk was anciently

employed in producing fire by friction, and the bugle weed (Lycopus

virginicus), known as aniwani'ski, "talkers," because the chewed

root, given to children to swallow, or rubbed upon their lips,

is supposed to endow them with the gift of eloquence. Some few, in

addition to the ordinary term in use among the common people, have a

sacred or symbolic name, used only by the priests and doctors in the

prayer formulas. Thus ginseng, or "sang," as it is more often called

by the white mountaineers, is known to the laity as â'tali-gûli',

"the mountain climber," but is addressed in the formulas as Yûñwi

Usdi', "Little Man," while selu (corn) is invoked under the name of

Agawe'la in myths, as, for instance, that of Prosartes lanuginosa,

which bears the curious name of walâs'-unûl'sti, "frogs fight with

it," from a story that in the long ago--hilahi'yu--two quarrelsome

frogs once fought a duel, using its stalks as lances. In the locative

form this was the name of a former Cherokee settlement in Georgia,

called by the whites Fighting-town, from a misapprehension of the

meaning of the word. Of the white clover, the Cherokee say that

"it follows the white man."

The division of trees into evergreen and deciduous is accounted for

by a myth, related elsewhere, according to which the loss of their

leaves in winter time is a punishment visited upon the latter for

their failure to endure an ordeal to the end. With the Cherokee, as

with nearly all other tribes east and west, the cedar is held sacred

above other trees. The reasons for this reverence are easily found in

its ever-living green, its balsamic fragrance, and the beautiful color

of its fine-grained wood, unwarping and practically undecaying. The

small green twigs are thrown upon the fire as incense in certain

ceremonies, particularly to counteract the effect of asgina dreams,

as it is believed that the anisgi'na or malevolent ghosts can not

endure the smell; but the wood itself is considered too sacred to

be used as fuel. In the war dance, the scalp trophies, stretched on

small hoops, were hung upon a cedar sapling trimmed and decorated for

the occasion. According to a myth the red color comes originally from

the blood of a wicked magician, whose severed head was hung at the

top of a tall cedar. The story is now almost forgotten, but it was

probably nearly identical with one still existing among the Yuchi,

former neighbors of the Cherokee. According to the Yuchi myth,

a malevolent magician disturbed the daily course of the sun until

at last two brave warriors sought him out and killed him in his

cave. They cut off his head and brought it home with them to show to

the people, but it continued still alive. To make it die they were

advised to tie it in the topmost branches of a tree. This they did,

trying one tree after another, but each morning the head was found

at the foot of the tree and still alive. At last they tied it in a

cedar, and there the head remained until it was dead, while the blood

slowly trickling down along the trunk gave the wood its red color,

and henceforth the cedar was a "medicine" tree. [504]

The linn or basswood (Tilia) is believed never to be struck by

lightning, and the hunter caught in one of the frequent thunderstorms

of the southern mountains always seeks its shelter. From its stringy

bark are twisted the hunting belts worn about the waist. Sourwood

(Oxydendrum) is used by the hunters for barbecue sticks to roast

meat before the fire, on account of the acid flavor of the wood,

which they believe to be thus communicated to the meat. Spoons and

combs are also carved from the wood, but it is never burned, from

an idea that lye made from the ashes will bring sickness to those

who use it in preparing their food. It is said also that if one

should sleep beside a fire containing sourwood sticks the sourwood

"will barbecue him," which may possibly mean that he will have hot

or feverish pains thereafter.

The laurel, in its two varieties, large and small (Rhododendron and

Kalmia, or "ivy"), is much used for spoons and combs, on account of

its close grain, as also in medicine, but is never burned, as it is

believed that this would bring on cold weather, and would furthermore

destroy the medicinal virtues of the whole species. The reason given

is that the leaves, when burning, make a hissing sound suggestive of

winter winds and falling snow. When the doctor is making up a compound

in which any part of the laurel is an ingredient, great precautions are

taken to prevent any of the leaves or twigs being swept into the fire,

as this would render the decoction worthless. Sassafras is tabued

as fuel among the Cherokee, as also among their white neighbors,

perhaps for the practical reason that it is apt to pop out of the

fire when heated and might thus set the house on fire.

Pounded walnut bark is thrown into small streams to stupefy the fish,

so that they may be easily dipped out in baskets as they float on the

surface of the water. Should a pregnant woman wade into the stream

at the time, its effect is nullified, unless she has first taken

the precaution to tie a strip of the bark about her toe. A fire

of post-oak and the wood of the telûñ'lati or summer grape (Vitis

æstivalis) is believed to bring a spell of warm weather even in the

coldest winter season.

Mysterious properties attach to the wood of a tree which has been

struck by lightning, especially when the tree itself still lives, and

such wood enters largely into the secret compounds of the conjurers. An

ordinary person of the laity will not touch it, for fear of having

cracks come upon his hands and feet, nor is it burned for fuel, for

fear that lye made from the ashes will cause consumption. In preparing

ballplayers for the contest, the medicine-man sometimes burns splinters

of it to coal, which he gives to the players to paint themselves with

in order that they may be able to strike their opponents with all the

force of a thunderbolt. Bark or wood from a tree struck by lightning,

but still green, is beaten up and put into the water in which seeds

are soaked before planting, to insure a good crop, but, on the other

hand, any lightning-struck wood thrown into the field will cause the

crop to wither, and it is believed to have a bad effect even to go

into the field immediately after having been near such a tree.

Among all vegetables the one which holds first place in the

household economy and ceremonial observance of the tribe is selu,

"corn," invoked in the sacred formulas under the name of Agawe'la,

"The Old Woman," in allusion to its mythic origin from the blood of

an old woman killed by her disobedient sons (see number 3, "Kana'ti

and Selu"). In former times the annual thanksgiving ceremony of the

Green-corn dance, preliminary to eating the first new corn, was the

most solemn tribal function, a propitiation and expiation for the

sins of the past year, an amnesty for public criminals, and a prayer

for happiness and prosperity for the year to come. Only those who had

properly prepared themselves by prayer, fasting, and purification were

allowed to take part in this ceremony, and no one dared to taste the

new corn until then. Seven ears from the last year's crop were always

put carefully aside, in order to attract the corn until the new crop

was ripened and it was time for the dance, when they were eaten with

the rest. In eating the first new corn after the Green Corn dance,

care was observed not to blow upon it to cool it, for fear of causing

a wind storm to beat down the standing crop in the field.

Much ceremony accompanied the planting and tending of the crop. Seven

grains, the sacred number, were put into each hill, and these were not

afterward thinned out. After the last working of the crop, the priest

and an assistant--generally the owner of the field--went into the

field and built a small inclosure (detsanûñ'li) in the center. Then

entering it, they seated themselves upon the ground, with heads

bent down, and while the assistant kept perfect silence the priest,

with rattle in hand, sang songs of invocation to the spirit of the

corn. Soon, according to the orthodox belief, a loud rustling would

be heard outside, which they would know was caused by the "Old Woman"

bringing the corn into the field, but neither must look up until

the song was finished. This ceremony was repeated on four successive

nights, after which no one entered the field for seven other nights,

when the priest himself went in, and, if all the sacred regulations

had been properly observed, was rewarded by finding young ears upon

the stalks. The corn ceremonies could be performed by the owner of the

field himself, provided he was willing to pay a sufficient fee to the

priest in order to learn the songs and ritual. Care was always taken to

keep a clean trail from the field to the house, so that the corn might

be encouraged to stay at home and not go wandering elsewhere. Most

of these customs have now fallen into disuse excepting among the old

people, by many of whom they are still religiously observed.

Another curious ceremony, of which even the memory is now almost

forgotten, was enacted after the first working of the corn, when the

owner or priest stood in succession at each of the four corners of the

field and wept and wailed loudly. Even the priests are now unable to

give a reason for this performance, which may have been a lament for

the bloody death of Selu, as the women of Byblos were wont to weep

for Adonis.

Next to corn, the bean (tuya) is the most important food plant of the

Cherokee and other southern Indians, with whom it is probably native,

but there does not appear to be much special ceremony or folklore in

connection with it. Beans which crack open in cooking are sometimes

rubbed by mothers on the lips of their children in order to make

them look smiling and good-tempered. The association of ideas seems

to be the same as that which in Ireland causes a fat mealy potato,

which cracks open in boiling, to be called a "laughing" potato. Melons

and squashes must not be counted or examined too closely, while still

growing upon the vine, or they will cease to thrive; neither must one

step over the vine, or it will wither before the fruit ripens. One

who has eaten a May-apple must not come near the vines under any

circumstances, as this plant withers and dries up very quickly,

and its presence would make the melons wither in the same way.

Tobacco was used as a sacred incense or as the guarantee of a solemn

oath in nearly every important function--in binding the warrior to

take up the hatchet against the enemy, in ratifying the treaty of

peace, in confirming sales or other engagements, in seeking omens for

the hunter, in driving away witches or evil spirits, and in regular

medical practice. It was either smoked in the pipe or sprinkled upon

the fire, never rolled into cigarettes, as among the tribes of the

Southwest, neither was it ever smoked for the mere pleasure of the

sensation. Of late years white neighbors have taught the Indians to

chew it, but the habit is not aboriginal. It is called tsâlû, a name

which has lost its meaning in the Cherokee language, but is explained

from the cognate Tuscarora, in which charhû', "tobacco," can still be

analyzed as "fire to hold in the mouth," showing that the use is as

old as the knowledge of the plant. The tobacco originally in use among

the Cherokee, Iroquois, and other eastern tribes was not the common

tobacco of commerce (Nicotiana tabacum), which has been introduced

from the West Indies, but the Nicotiana rustica, or wild tobacco,

now distinguished by the Cherokee as tsâl-agayûñ'li, "old tobacco,"

and by the Iroquois as "real tobacco." Its various uses in ritual

and medicine are better described under other headings. For the myth

of its loss and recovery see number 6, "How They Brought Back the

Tobacco." The cardinal flower (Lobelia), mullein (Verbascum), and

one or two related species are called tsâliyu'sti, "like tobacco,"

on account of their general resemblance to it in appearance, but they

were never used in the same way.

The poisonous wild parsnip (Peucedanum?) bears an unpleasant

reputation on account of its frequent use in evil spells, especially

those intended to destroy the life of the victim. In one of these

conjurations seven pieces of the root are laid upon one hand and rubbed

gently with the other, the omen being taken from the position of the

pieces when the hand is removed. It is said also that poisoners mix

it secretly with the food of their intended victim, when, if he eats,

he soon becomes drowsy, and, unless kept in motion until the effect

wears off, falls asleep, never to wake again. Suicides are said to

eat it to procure death. Before starting on a journey a small piece

of the root is sometimes chewed and blown upon the body to prevent

sickness, but the remedy is almost as bad as the disease, for the

snakes are said to resent the offensive smell by biting the one who

carries it. In spite of its poisonous qualities, a decoction of the

root is much used for steaming patients in the sweat bath, the idea

seeming to be that the smell drives away the disease spirits.

The poison oak or poison ivy (Rhus radicans), so abundant in the

damp eastern forests, is feared as much by Indians as by whites. When

obliged to approach it or work in its vicinity, the Cherokee strives to

conciliate it by addressing it as "My friend" (hi'ginalii). If poisoned

by it, he rubs upon the affected part the beaten flesh of a crawfish.

One variety of brier (Smilax) is called di`nû'ski, "the breeder,"

from a belief that a thorn of it, if allowed to remain in the flesh,

will breed others in a day or two.

Ginseng, which is sold in large quantities to the local traders, as

well as used in the native medical practice, is called âtali-gûli',

"the mountain climber," but is addressed by the priests as Yûñwi

Usdi', "Little Man," or Yûñwi Usdi'ga Ada'wehi'yu, "Little Man, Most

Powerful Magician," the Cherokee sacred term, like the Chinese name,

having its origin from the frequent resemblance of the root in shape

to the body of a man. The beliefs and ceremonies in connection with

its gathering and preparation are very numerous. The doctor speaks

constantly of it as of a sentient being, and it is believed to be able

to make itself invisible to those unworthy to gather it. In hunting

it, the first three plants found are passed by. The fourth is taken,

after a preliminary prayer, in which the doctor addresses it as the

"Great Ada'wehi," and humbly asks permission to take a small piece of

its flesh. On digging it from the ground, he drops into the hole a bead

and covers it over, leaving it there, by way of payment to the plant

spirit. After that he takes them as they come without further ceremony.

The catgut or devil's shoestring (Tephrosia) is called distai'yi,

"they are tough," in allusion to its stringy roots, from which

Cherokee women prepare a decoction with which to wash their hair

in order to impart to it the strength and toughness of the plant,

while a preparation of the leaves is used by ballplayers to wash

themselves in order to toughen their limbs. To enable them to spring

quickly to their feet if thrown to the ground, the players bathe

their limbs also with a decoction of the small rush (Juncus tenuis),

which, they say, always recovers its erect position, no matter how

often trampled down. The white seeds of the viper's bugloss (Echium

vulgare) were formerly used in many important ceremonies of which the

purpose was to look into the future, but have now been superseded by

the ordinary glass beads of the traders. The culver root (Leptandra)

is used in love conjurations, the omen being taken from the motion

of the root when held in the hand. The campion (Silene stellata),

locally known as "rattlesnake's master," is called ganidawâ'ski,

"it disjoints itself," because the dried stalk is said to break off

by joints, beginning at the top. As among the white mountaineers,

the juice is held to be a sovereign remedy for snake bites, and it is

even believed that the deadliest snake will flee from one who carries

a small portion of the root in his mouth.

Almost all varieties of burs, from the Spanish needle up to the

cocklebur and Jimsonweed, are classed together under the generic name

of u'nistilûn'isti, which may be freely rendered as "stickers." From

their habit of holding fast to whatever object they may happen to

touch, they are believed to have an occult power for improving the

memory and inducing stability of character. Very soon after a child

is born, one of the smaller species, preferably the Lespedeza repens,

is beaten up and a portion is put into a bowl of water taken from

a fall or cataract, where the stream makes a constant noise. This

is given to the child to drink on four successive days, with the

intention of making him quick to learn and retain in memory anything

once heard. The noise of the cataract from which the water is taken

is believed to be the voice of Yûñwi Gûnahi'ta, the "Long Man," or

river god, teaching lessons which the child may understand, while

the stream itself is revered for its power to seize and hold anything

cast upon its surface. A somewhat similar ceremony is sometimes used

for adults, but in this case the matter is altogether more difficult,

as there are tabus for four or seven days, and the mind must be kept

fixed upon the purpose of the rite throughout the whole period, while

if the subject so far forgets himself as to lose his temper in that

time he will remain of a quarrelsome disposition forever after.

A flowering vine, known as nuniyu'sti, "potato-like," which grows

in cultivated fields, and has a tuberous root somewhat resembling a

potato, is used in hunting conjurations. The bruised root, from which

a milky juice oozes, is rubbed upon the deer bleat, a`wi'-ahyeli'ski,

with which the hunter imitates the bleating of the fawn, under

the idea that the doe, hearing it, will think that her offspring

desires to suck, and will therefore come the sooner. The putty-root

(Adam-and-Eve, Aplectrum hiemale), which is of an oily, mucilaginous

nature, is carried by the deer hunter, who, on shooting a deer,

puts a small piece of the chewed root into the wound, expecting as a

necessary result to find the animal unusually fat when skinned. Infants

which seem to pine and grow thin are bathed with a decoction of the

same root in order to fatten them. The root of the rare plant known

as Venus' flytrap (Dionæa), which has the remarkable property of

catching and digesting insects which alight upon it, is chewed by

the fisherman and spit upon the bait that no fish may escape him,

and the plant is tied upon the fish trap for the same purpose.

The root of a plant called unatlûñwe'hitû, "having spirals," is used

in conjurations designed to predispose strangers in favor of the

subject. The priest "takes it to water"--i. e., says certain prayers

over it while standing close to the running stream, then chews a small

piece and rubs and blows it upon the body and arms of the patient,

who is supposed to be about to start upon a journey, or to take part

in a council, with the result that all who meet him or listen to his

words are at once pleased with his manner and appearance, and disposed

to give every assistance to his projects.

Myths of the Cherokee Extract from the Nineteenth Annual Report of the Bureau of American Ethnology · 第 183 / 197 题