lands between the Tennessee and Cumberland rivers. More than 12,000
Indians were present at the council. Monnette’s History gives the
prophetic speech of an old chief--Oconnastotee. He began by describing
the flourishing condition of his nation in the past, and the
encroachments of the whites upon the retiring and expiring tribes of
Indians, who left their homes and the seats of their ancestors to
gratify the insatiable thirst of the white people for more land. Whole
nations had melted away, and had left their names only as recorded by
their enemies and destroyers. It was once hoped that they would not be
willing to travel beyond the mountains so far from the ocean on which
their commerce was carried on. That fallacious hope had vanished, for
the whites had already settled on the Cherokee lands, and now wished to
have their usurpations sanctioned by treaty. When that shall have been
done new sessions will be applied for, and finally the country which the
Cherokees and their forefathers occupied will be applied for. The small
remnant which may then exist of this once great and powerful nation will
be compelled to seek a new home in some far distant wilderness.
But a few years elapsed before the beginning of the fulfillment of this
prophesy. Emigration after the Revolution became a mania. The Watauga
passes were filled with teams _en route_ for the Holston valley, and
roads were constructed up the Blue Ridge to the garden valley of the
upper French Broad.
The Indians were soon forced to retire beyond the Balsams, into the
valley of the Little Tennessee and its upper branches. Tennessee
acquired, by purchase and otherwise, most of the Cherokee territory in
that state, while Georgia adopted a harsh and oppressive policy,
calculated to produce discontent. As early as 1790, a band of low
country Cherokees emigrated beyond the Mississippi, from which time, as
the hunting grounds became more and more contracted, discouragement and
a desire to go west, became general among the clans below the Smoky
mountains and Blue Ridge. Several treaties ceding portions of their
domain were made, and finally a faction representing themselves as
agents of the tribe, in 1835 surrendered “all rights, title, and
possession to all the lands owned and occupied by the Cherokee Indians,”
in exchange for lands west of the Mississippi. The North Carolina
Indians and a portion of those in Georgia and Tennessee protested
vigorously against the terms of the treaty. Under the leadership of the
proud warrior Junaluska, they were among the most valiant of General
Jackson’s soldiers in the second war with Great Britain. They now vainly
appealed to the same General Jackson as President of the United States,
for the privilege of remaining in the land of their fathers.
By a treaty made in 1819 the Cherokees had ceded all their lands,
“saving and reserving one section for each family who chose to remain.”
The clans that desired to emigrate were given lands and transportation.
The treaty of 1835 provided for an exchange of all the eastern
reservations for lands in the west, without discretion; but through the
influence of Colonel W. H. Thomas, the treaty was so modified that
certain towns were to have money compensation for their reservations
under the treaty of 1819, with which to purchase new homes in their
native land. These were to be held in fee simple by as many as chose to
remain.
A large percentage of the tribe denied the validity of the treaty
altogether, and only yielded when the force of General Scott’s army was
brought to bear, in 1837. It is in those who accepted the advice and
offices of Colonel Thomas, and remained in North Carolina, we are
chiefly interested. Their kin who voluntarily emigrated or were driven
west of the Mississippi have progressed steadily in the useful arts,
have schools, churches, farms and cattle.
The Eastern Band, as those who remained and purchased farms, and their
descendants are known, has been steadily decreasing in numbers, there
being at present but slightly above 1100 souls.
Colonel Thomas, who was, until recent years, the chief of the band, was
born in the Pigeon river valley, and, at a very early age, left an
orphan. Felix Walker, the Congressional representative from the Western
North Carolina district, had two stores, one at Waynesville and one in
the Indian country, on Soco, in which latter store young Thomas was
placed as clerk. Most of the customers being Indians, he soon learned to
speak and write Cherokee. These linguistic attainments made him
invaluable to the tribe for the transaction of public and private
business. Younaguska (Drowning Bear), the reigning chief, adopted the
lad into his family and tribe, and gave him entire clerical charge of
public affairs.
The chief, Younaguska, was an extraordinary Indian. He was acute,
vigorous, and determined; qualities which made him both respected and
feared by his people. He knew how to control their weaknesses and use
their superstitions.
The Cherokees, like all Indians who come in contact with the whites,
became intemperate. Younaguska, though himself addicted to the use of
whisky to excess, determined upon a reformation of his people. He sank
into a trance, so heavy that the whole town supposed him to be dead,
though some signs of life remained. Anxiously they watched and waited
for fifteen days, when it was determined to perform the funeral rites
according to their ancient usages. The tribe assembled. The plaintive
notes of the funeral song began to mingle with the roll of the Lufty.
They marched and counter-marched, 1,200 of them, around the prostrate
body of their chief. Then came a sudden pause and fright, for the dead
had returned to life! An old familiar voice was summoning their
attention. He spoke with deep feeling, telling his people that he had
been in a trance; that he had communed with the great spirit; that his
long service for his people was not yet ended; he was to remain with
them as many years as he had been days in the “happy hunting ground.”
Having thus given to his speech the authority of inspiration, he
proceeded to tell them that he had served them upwards of 40 years
without any pecuniary consideration whatever. His sole aim had been to
promote their good. Their happiness in the future was his chief concern.
He was convinced that intemperance was the cause of the extermination of
the Indian tribes who lived in contact with the whites. As an example
he referred to the previous and present condition of the Catawbas, with
whom they were acquainted. He deplored the scenes of dissipation so
common among his own people, and closed by directing Mr. Thomas, from
whom this account has been derived, to write the following pledge: “The
undersigned Cherokees, belonging to the town of Qualla, agree to abandon
the use of spirituous liquors.” The old chief signed first and was
followed by the whole town. This pledge was enforced with the rigor of a
written law, its violation in every instance being punished at the
public whipping post. Younaguska expressed pleasure in the knowledge
that his people confided in him. He advised them to remain where they
were, in North Carolina, a State more friendly and better disposed
toward the red man than any other. Should they remove west they would
there too soon be surrounded by the whites and perhaps included in a
State disposed to oppress them.
Younaguska’s influence over them was well nigh omnipotent, and was
exerted uniformly with a view to their improvement. Colonel Thomas,
whose acquaintance with public men was extensive, has declared that this
old Indian was the intellectual peer of John C. Calhoun. There is
certainly a place in history for the individual, whatever be his race,
who can elevate a band of warriors and hunters into a community of
agriculturists, capable of raising their own food and manufacturing
their own clothing.
Before Younaguska died he assembled his people and publicly willed the
chieftainship to his clerk, friend and adopted son, W. H. Thomas, whom
he commended as worthy of respect and whom he adjured them to obey as
they had obeyed him. He was going to the home provided for him by the
great spirit; he would always keep watch over his people and would be
grieved to see any of them disobey the new chief he had chosen to rule
over them. It was therefore under the most auspicious circumstances
that Colonel Thomas became chief of the Eastern Band of the Cherokees.
He had been with them long enough to know their character. He made
himself absolute in everything, and required the strictest obedience. He
kept constantly in their minds the injunction of Younaguska, and warned
them at every critical juncture of the danger of incurring the
displeasure of the spirit of their old chief. Councils were held
according to the ancient usages of the tribe, but they did little more
than confirm the transactions of the chief.
Colonel Thomas, as provided by the treaty of 1835, used the funds of the
Indians in the purchase of homes. He provided for their education and
encouraged religious exercises among them. When the war broke out he led
four companies into the Confederate army. They showed capacity for
discipline and were not wanting in courage; but like a great many of
these highlanders, they had no interest in the cause, and employed the
first opportunity to desert, some of them joining the Federal army and
many finding their mountain homes. During the war the tribe’s internal
affairs were in chaos, its councils were without a head, and its members
lapsed into dissipation and laziness. The ban of an adverse fatality
seemed to rest over these unfortunate pilgrims on their way from
barbarism to civilization.
Their chief was stricken with nervous disease when his services were
most needed, and years of confusion and imposition followed. There were
rival pretenders to the chieftainship, who divided the band into
factions and threatened at one time a contest at arms. The animus of
this whole affair was the avarice of several white adventurers who were
seeking to control the business of the tribe in order to get into their
own hands the claims due the Indians from the United States. Even under
such circumstances these people demonstrated their capacity for self
government. One of the contestants, whose English name was John Ross,
was forced to abandon his pretensions, and Lloyd Welsh, his competitor,
soon after died. A written constitution had in the meantime been
adopted, which is still in force. Nimrod Jarrett Smith, an intelligent
and educated member of the tribe, was elected by popular vote to the
chieftainship for the term of four years, and has since been re-elected.
The Eastern Band of Cherokees have title in fee simple to 50,000 acres
of land on the Ocona Lufta and Soco creek, known as the Qualla boundary.
A few small tracts belonging to individual Indians are included. Besides
this boundary, there are belonging to the band and individuals 1,521
acres in detached tracts lying in the counties of Cherokee, Graham,
Jackson, and Swain. According to the census of 1880, there were living
in the Qualla reserve, 825; in Cherokee county, 83; in Graham county,
189, and in Macon county, 12, making a total of 1,109. This number is
ten per cent. less than in 1870. The Graham county Indians live along
the head branches of the Cheowah, those in Cherokee county on Valley
river.
The Indians have no towns, nor does their manner of life differ in many
particulars from that of the white people among whom they reside. A
stranger, unless he sees the inmates, does not distinguish an Indian
cabin from a white man’s, nor, with few exceptions, an Indian’s little
cove farm from one of its class cultivated by a white man.
The valley of Soco is the locality of densest Indian population. The
fields, originally of average fertility, are worn out by bad farming.
There is an abundance of fruit--apples, peaches and plums. The
predominant crop is corn, which is reduced to meal by the simple little
mills common to the mountain country. Small herds of ponies are
frequently seen by the wayside. These, and a few cattle, are the main
sources of revenue upon which the people rely for what money they need.
Taxes and expenses incident to their government, including schools is
the extent of cash demands made upon them. They manufacture their own
clothing. The primitive dress of the warriors and hunters consisted of
deer skin leggins and moccasins, a highly colored shirt, and a kind of
turban ornamented with feathers. The moccasins alone survive, the dress
of an Indian in all other respects being like that of his white
neighbor. The Cherokee women of the present generation are unattractive.
Some of the young children who attend school are clean and neat in
person and dress, which is more than can be said of many of the mothers.
The women are seldom seen upon the road without burdens, though the men
rarely carry anything. The lower valley of the Soco is barren of scenic
interest, yet these metamorphosed representatives of a primitive
population cannot fail to occupy the attention of the tourist. You may
be interested in some of the details of our trip from the mouth of the
Ocona Lufta to Soco gap.
[Illustration: A SOCO LASS]
The loquacious innkeeper at Charleston started us off with a comfortable
breakfast and the information that the distance to Yellow Hill, the
residence of Chief Smith and Cherokee seat of government, was about
eleven miles, and from there to Waynesville, through Soco gap, was
twenty-five. Two hours’ ride through the sandy, but well cultivated
valley of the Tuckasege brought us to the Ocona Lufta. From this point
the road follows the general course of the stream, but, avoiding its
curves, is at places so far away that the roar of the rapids sounds
like the distant approach of a storm. At places the road is almost
crowded into the river by the stern approach of precipices, and then
again they separate while crossing broad, green, undulating bottoms.
Overtaking an old squaw and a girl probably ten years old, we inquired
the distance to Yellow Hill. The old woman shook her head and gave us an
expressionless look, indicating that she did not understand. The girl in
good English gave us intelligible directions. We learned subsequently
that nearly all the Cherokee children can speak and write English. Many
of the old folks can understand our language, but will not admit it. I
began asking some questions of a stoop-shouldered, heavy-set fellow
about the country. He stood dumb, but when I told him I wanted to buy a
few peaches his eye brightened, and the words “How many?” were
distinctly uttered.
We arrived at Yellow Hill about 11 o’clock. Chief Smith resides in a
comfortable house of four rooms, situated on top of an elevation in the
midst of a plain of considerable extent. In an open yard near the house
is a frame building used for a school-house, meeting-house, and
council-house. We found Chief Smith in his residence, writing at a table
covered with books, pamphlets, letters, and manuscripts. The room is
neatly papered and comfortably furnished. The chief received us with
cordiality. He was dressed in white starched shirt, with collar and
cuffs, Prince Albert coat, well-fitting black pantaloons, and calf-skin
boots shining like ebony. He is more than six feet tall, straight as a
plumb line, and rather slender. His features are rough and prominent.
His forehead is full but not high, and his thick, black hair, combed to
perfect smoothness, hung down behind large protruding ears, almost to
the coat collar. He has a deep, full-toned voice, and earnest,
impressive manner. His wife is a white woman, and his daughters, bright,
intelligent girls, have been well-educated. One of them was operating a
sewing-machine, another writing for her father.
Under the present constitution the chief’s term of office is four years.
His salary is $500 a year, and $4 a day additional when on business in
Washington. No one but a Cherokee of more than 35 years of age is
eligible to the chieftainship. There is an assistant chief who receives
$250 yearly. He is one of the council, and in the absence of the chief
performs his duties. There are in addition three executive advisers. The
council consists of two delegates to every 100 persons. It is presided
over by the chief, who has the veto power, but who is not at liberty to
act in any matter of public policy without the authority of the council.
Every male Indian over sixteen years old, and every white man who has an
Indian wife, is allowed to vote. No one is eligible to office who has
ever aided and abetted, or in any way joined the whites in defrauding
the tribe; neither can any one hold office who denies the being of a
God, or of a future state of rewards and punishments. There is general
satisfaction with the present government, and Mr. Smith declares there
is entire loyalty in all the settlements.
A public school is maintained, and even the old and middle-aged are
better educated than the whites in many communities. The young are
taught in both Cherokee and English. It is unfortunate that no public
fund is provided for the advanced education of the more intelligent of
them, that they might become teachers. Others should be placed in shops
where they would become artisans. Finely engraved pipes, ornaments, and
well made baskets show their capacity in this direction. Their industry
at present is not commendable.
The christianization of the Cherokees was begun in 1801, by Moravian
missionaries. It was easy to adapt their old faith to the new creed, and
many were converted. Other churches have since taken up the work,
Baptists deserving the most credit, and next to them the Methodists.
They are naturally devout, and most of them are in regular communion
with the church, thereby imposing marriage laws and other social
regulations. Christianity has strengthened and solemnized the marriage
tie, which in the prouder but more barbarous condition of the tribe was
a very weak relation. Boys used to choose their wives at sixteen to
eighteen years of age, live with them a few years and then abandon them
and their families. It not unfrequently happened that after rioting with
strange women for a period, they came back to their first choice, unless
their places had been taken by others. Prostitution was common, though
considered the most disgraceful of crimes, and punished by shearing the
head. This punishment has been discontinued. Although there has been a
healthy change in social morals there is room for improvement.
Rigid seriousness is a marked element of Indian character, and is
written in unmistakable lines upon their faces. The Cherokee language is
not capable of expressing a witticism, and anything like a joke is
foreign to their nature. They have a great many so-called dances, but
none of them, like the dance of the negro, is the effervescence of
irrepressible joy. The Indian dances as a preparation for some coming
event; he never celebrates. It seems to be a legacy of his heathen ideas
of making sacrifice to the great spirit, apparently involving much
painful labor. In the primitive days the whole tribe danced before
making war, and the warriors danced before going into battle. It is
still their custom to go through these melancholy perambulations before
every contest of strength, such as a game of ball or a wrestling match.
The funeral dance and the wedding dance are performed with the same
stern immobility of features.
From Yellow Hill our party started to Qualla post-office, a collection
of a half-dozen unattractive houses, inhabited by whites, but at one
time the council house of the band. The Ocona Lufta crossed our path at
the beginning. The purity of the stream seemed to forbid the intrusion
of a dirty hoof, but there was no time to indulge sentiment. The ford is
shallow, and angles down stream. My horse mistook a canoe landing,
almost opposite, for his place of destination, his rider’s attention
being absorbed in the blocks of many colored granite and transparent
crystals of quartz, which form the bottom pavement. Three-fourths way
across, the water was smooth and touched the horse’s neck. Another
length, a plunge, and the horse was swimming; still the lustrous bottom
shone with undiminished distinctness.
On our way through Quallatown to Soco creek, we passed numerous
wayfarers carrying corn, fruit, baskets, and babies. One woman had a
bushel of corn tied in a sack around her waist, a basket of apples on
her head, and a baby in her arms. A slouchy man was walking at her side
empty-handed and scolding, probably because she was unable to carry him.
Under a peach tree before a cabin stood a witch-like squaw and half a
dozen unattractive children. “Is this the Soco road?” was asked.
“Satula” issued from her grim old mouth, and her finger pointed at the
peaches.
“No, Soco; is this Soco?” nervously urged our companion, pointing up the
stream.
“Uh,” she grunted out, and handed him one peach, from which we inferred
that “soco” means “one.” A white woman in the vicinity confirmed our
guess, and told us that “satula” is equivalent to the phrase “do you
want it?”
Pause, and look at an “Indian maiden” by the road side. We did. Who,
that has read Longfellow, and Cooper, and Irving, could pass without
looking? She certainly could not have been the inspiration of
Longfellow’s Hiawatha. She stands, in my recollection, with fishing rod
in hand--about five feet tall, and 140 pounds in weight. Black, coarse,
knotted hair hangs down her back to the waist. Under her low forehead is
a pair of large, black eyes, which, unfortunately, are devoid of
expression. Her cheek bones are wider than her forehead and almost touch
the level of her eyes. A flat nose, straight mouth, and small ears,
complete the physiognomy which showed no sign of thinking. Her neck is
short and thick, and her shoulders broader than her broad hips. Her
waist is almost manly. A gown of homespun, patched and dirty, half
conceals her knees. With a glance at a large, but clumsy, pair of
ankles, and flat feet, we pass on out of the Indian settlement along the
rapids of Soco. We had not been approached by a beggar, or asked to buy
a penny worth of anything during the whole day.
The scenery along the torrents of Soco creek, down the western slope of
the Balsams, rivals in variety and picturesque effect that of any place
in the Appalachians. There are no grand chasms, nor grand cascades.
There is nothing, indeed, which calls for superlative adjectives,
unless, possibly, we except the immensity of the trees, the unbroken
carpeting of moss, and the perfect grace of tall ferns. There is, in the
curves of the torrent, as it bounds over precipices and down rapids,
compelling us to cross its noisy channel at least twenty times; in the
conformation of the glens through which we rode; in the massiveness and
towering height of the great chain, up whose side we were climbing; in
the white fragments of rock, which reflect the sun light from the
stream’s channel and the highway; in the rounded cliffs, so modest that
they keep themselves perpetually robed in a seamless vesture of moss; in
the ferns, the shrubs, the trees, in the absolute solitude and
loneliness of the place,--there is something so complex in its effect
upon the interested student of nature that he is unwearied by the two
hours and a half required to make the ascent.
[Illustration: MOUNT PISGAH.
West Asheville in the Foreground.]
IN THE HAUNTS OF THE BLACK BEAR.
The bear, with shaggy hide
Red-stained from blood of slaughtered swine, at night
Slain by him on the mountain’s lower side,
Roused by the breaking light,
Comes growling to his lair.
Distant, the baying of an eager pack,
Like chiming bells, sweeps thro’ the chilly air
Above the scented track.
[Illustration: T]he black bear, native to North America, still exists in
large numbers on the wildest ranges of the southern mountains. The work
of extermination pursued by hunter and trapper proceed more slowly
against him than against his fellow inhabitant of the wilderness--the
deer, in which every faint halloo of mountaineer, or distant bay of the
hounds, strikes terror; and whose superior fleetness of limb only serves
to carry him to the open river--his slaughter ground.