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 name, but without succeeding. It
was my good fortune, however, to obtain a romantic legend connected
therewith. I heard it from the lips of a chief who glories in the
two names of All-bones and Flying-squirrel, and, though he occupied
no less than two hours in telling the story, I will endeavor to give
it to my readers in about five minutes.
"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--The dagûl`kû is the American white-fronted goose
(Anser albifrons gambeli). It is said to have been of bluish-white
color, and to have been common in the low country toward the coast,
but very rare in the mountains. About the end of September it goes
south, and can be heard at night flying far overhead and crying
dugalu! dugalu! dugalu! Swimmer had heard them passing over, but had
never seen one.
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 other whenever a great storm arises. [533] Among the
plains tribes both thunder and lightning are caused by a great bird.
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 [534] and in the
author's story of the Jicarilla genesis in the American Anthropologist
for July, 1898.
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 warfare against
the monster. A variety of means were employed for his destruction,
but without success. In process of time it was determined that the
wise men (or medicine-men) of the nation should try their skill in the
business. They met in council and agreed that each one should station
himself on the summit of a mountain, and that, when the creature was
discovered, the man who made the discovery should utter a loud halloo,
which shout should be taken up by his neighbor on the next mountain,
and so continued to the end of the line, that all the men might have a
shot at the strange bird. This experiment was tried, and resulted in
finding out the hiding place of the monster, which was a deep cavern
on the eastern side of the Blue ridge and at the fountain-head of the
river Too-ge-lah [Tugaloo river, South Carolina]. On arriving at this
place, they found the entrance to the cavern entirely inaccessible
by mortal feet, and they therefore prayed to the Great Spirit that he
would bring out the bird from his den, and place him within reach of
their arms. Their petition was granted, for a terrible thunder-storm
immediately arose, and a stroke of lightning tore away one half of
a large mountain, and the Indians were successful in slaying their
enemy. The Great Spirit was pleased with the courage manifested by the
Cherokees during this dangerous fight, and, with a view of rewarding
the same, he willed it that all the highest mountains in their land
should thereafter be destitute of trees, so that they might always
have an opportunity of watching the movements of their enemies.
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 years before. The
incident of the dancing skeletons is not given by Schoolcraft,
and seems to indicate a lost sequel to the story. Haywood (Nat. and
Aborig. Hist. Tenn., p. 161) mentions the Cherokee deluge myth and
conjectures that the petroglyphs at Track Rock gap in Georgia may
have some reference to it. The versions given by the missionaries
Buttrick and Washburn are simply the Bible narrative as told by the
Indians. Washburn's informant, however, accounted for the phenomenon
by an upheaval and tilting of the earth, so that the waters for a
time overflowed the inhabited parts (Reminiscences, pp. 196-197). In a
variant related by Hagar (MS Stellar Legends of the Cherokee) a star
with fiery tail falls from heaven and becomes a man with long hair,
who warns the people of the coming deluge.
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. [535]
Suffice it to say that such a myth appears to have existed with
every people and in every age. Among the American tribes with which
it was found Brinton enumerates the Athapascan, Algonquian, Iroquois,
Cherokee, Chickasaw, Caddo, Natchez, Dakota, Apache, Navaho, Mandan,
Pueblo, Aztec, Mixtec, Zapotec, Tlascalan, Michoacan, Toltec, Maya,
Quiche, Haitian, Darien, Popayan, Muysca, Quichua, Tupinamba, Achagua,
Auraucanian, "and doubtless others." [536] It is found also along
the Northwest coast, was known about Albemarle sound, and, as has
been said, was probably common to all the tribes.
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." [537]
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. [538]
Animal chiefs and councils--In Pawnee belief, according to Grinnell,
the animals, or Nahurac, possess miraculous attributes given them by
the great creator, Tirawa. "The Pawnees know of five places where these
animals meet to hold council--five of these Nahurac lodges." He gives
a detailed description of each. The fourth is a mound-shaped hill,
on the top of which is a deep well or water hole, into which the
Pawnee throw offerings. The fifth is a rock hill in Kansas, known
to the whites as Guide rock, and "in the side of the hill there is
a great hole where the Nahurac hold councils." [539]
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 labored thus to destroy their
friends. He represented, however, that the misfortune was unavoidable,
since without doing so, they could by no means subsist. The speech
ended, we all ate heartily of the bear's flesh; and even the head
itself, after remaining three days on the scaffold, was put into the
kettle."--Travels, pp. 143-145.
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, p. 249): "The bear is a sacred animal with the
Navahoes; for this reason the hero did not skin the bears or eat
their flesh. The old man, being a wizard, might do both."
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. [540]
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 of American Folk-Lore, July, 1900), and in the Jicarilla
story of "The Fox and the Wildcat" (Russell, Myths of the Jicarilla,
ibid., October, 1898). The Southern negro version, which lacks the
important song and dance feature, is given by Harris in his story of
"Brother Rabbit and Mr Wildcat." [541]
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 wounded Rabbit is put under the
care of the Buzzard, who winds up by eating his patient.
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. [542] In a Jicarilla myth a somewhat
similar incident is related of the Fox (Coyote?) and the Prairie-dog
(Russell, Myths of the Jicarilla, in Journal of American Folk-Lore,
October, 1898). In a British Columbian myth, nearly the same thing
happens when the Coyote undertakes to return the hospitality of the
Black Bear (Teit, Thompson River Indian Traditions, p. 40).
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!