Chapter XXVI: Part 26

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!

29. Why the Mink smells (p. 277): Obtained from John Ax.

30. Why the Mole lives underground (p. 277): This story, from John Ax, not only accounts for the Mole's underground habit, but illustrates a common Cherokee witchcraft belief, which has parallels all over the world.

31. The Terrapin's escape from the Wolves (p. 278): This story, of which the version here given, from Swimmer and John Ax, is admittedly imperfect, is known also among the western Cherokee, having been mentioned by Wafford and others in the Nation, although for some reason none of them seemed able to fill in the details. A somewhat similar story was given as belonging to her own tribe by a Catawba woman married among the East Cherokee. It suggests number 21, "The Rabbit and the tar wolf," and has numerous parallels.

In the Creek version, in the Tuggle manuscript, the Terrapin ridicules a woman, who retaliates by crushing his shell with a corn pestle. He repairs the injury by singing a medicine song, but the scars remain in the checkered spots on his back. In a variant in the same collection the ants mend his shell with tar, in return for his fat and blood. Other parallels are among the Omaha, "How the Big Turtle went on the Warpath" (Dorsey, Contributions to North American Ethnology; VI, p. 275), and the Cheyenne, "The Turtle, the Grasshopper, and the Skunk" (Kroeber, Cheyenne Tales, in Journal of American Folk-Lore, July, 1900). The myth is recorded also from west Africa by Chatelain ("The Man and the Turtle," in Folktales of Angola, 1894).

Kanahe'na.--This is a sour corn gruel, the tamfuli or "Tom Fuller" of the Creeks, which is a favorite food preparation among all the southern tribes. A large earthern jar of kanahe'na, with a wooden spoon upright in it, is always upon a bench just inside the cabin door, for every visitor to help himself.

32. Origin of the Groundhog dance (p. 279): This story is from Swimmer, the supplementary part being added by John Ax. The Groundhog dance is one of those belonging to the great thanksgiving ceremony, Green-corn dance. It consists of alternate advances and retreats by the whole line of dancers in obedience to signals by the song leader, who sings to the accompaniment of a rattle. The burden of the song, which is without meaning, is

Ha'wiye'ehi' Yaha'wiye'ehi [twice] Yu-u
Hi'yagu'we Hahi'yagu'we [twice] Yu-yu.

33. The migration of the animals (p. 280): This little story is given just as related by Ayâsta, the only woman privileged to speak in council among the East Cherokee. A similar incident occurs in number 76, "The Bear Man." According to one Cherokee myth concerning the noted Track Rock gap, near Blairsville in upper Georgia, the pictographs in the rocks there are the footprints of all sorts of birds and animals which once crossed over the gap in a great migration toward the south.

34. The Wolf's revenge: The Wolf and the Dog (p. 280): These short stories from Swimmer illustrate the Cherokee belief that if a wolf be injured his fellows will surely revenge the injury. See also note to number 15, "The Fourfooted Tribes," and number 3, "Kana'ti and Selu."

In a West African tale recorded by Chatelain (Folktales of Angola, 1894) the dog and the jackal are kinsmen, who live together in the bush until the jackal sends the dog to the village for fire. The dog goes, enters a house and is fed by a woman, and thereupon concludes to stay in the village, where there is always food.

35. The bird tribes (p. 280): The eagle killer--Of the Southern tribes generally Adair says: "They use the feathers of the eagle's tail in certain friendly and religious dances, but the whole town will contribute, to the value of 200 deerskins, for killing a large eagle--the bald eagle they do not esteem--and the man also gets an honorable title for the exploit, as if he had brought in the scalp of an enemy." [543]

Timberlake says that the Cherokee held the tail of an eagle in the greatest esteem, as these tails were sometimes given with the wampum in their treaties, and none of their warlike ceremonies could be performed without them (Memoirs, p. 81). The figurative expression, "a snowbird has been killed," used to avoid offending the eagle tribe, is paralleled in the expression, "he has been scratched by a brier," used by the Cherokee to mean, "he has been bitten by a snake." Professional eagle killers existed among many tribes, together with a prescribed ceremonial for securing the eagle. The most common method was probably that described in a note to number 98, "Gana's Adventures among the Cherokee." A detailed account of the Blackfoot method is given by Grinnell, in his Blackfoot Lodge Tales, pp. 236-240. The eagle, being a bird of prey, as well as a sacred bird, was never eaten.

The shifting of responsibility for the killing to a vicarious victim is a common feature of Indian formulas for obtaining pardon, especially for offenses against the animal tribe or the spirits of the dead. A remarkable parallel to the Cherokee prayer, from the Quichua of Peru, is given by Dr G. A. Dorsey. Having started, with a party of Indian laborers and a Spanish gentleman who was well acquainted with the native language, to examine some cave tombs near the ancient city of Cuzco, they had arrived at the spot and he was about to give the order to begin operations, when the Indians, removing their blankets and hats, knelt down and recited in unison in their own language a prayer to the spirits of the dead, of which the following translation is an extract: