Читать книгу The Heart of the Alleghanies; or, Western North Carolina - Ben S. Grosscup - Страница 5

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All kinds of creatures stand and fall

By strength of prowess or of wit;

’Tis God’s appointment who must sway,

And who is to submit.

—Wordsworth.

E are excluded from a knowledge of ancient American history by an impenetrable veil of mystery and silence. The past has left us only relics—relics of things and relics of races—which are interpreted by an unreined imagination. Before Europeans set foot on the western shore of the Atlantic, before the Indians occupied the forest continent, there dwelt on all the sunniest plains and fertile valleys a race well advanced in mechanical and æsthetic art, skilled in war and consecrated in religion. It came and flourished and perished, leaving only monuments of its existence in the form of works of earth, and works of stone—mounds, forts, and pottery. The old mounds scattered everywhere are the sepulchres of illustrious dead, and because of their number, the race has been designated the “Mound Builders.” They inhabited, among other places, the southern Alleghanies, the largest number of mounds being found in the upper valley of the Little Tennessee. Most of the rich mica dikes bear evidence of having been worked centuries ago. The marks of stone picks may still be seen upon the soft feldspar with which the mica is associated, and tunnels and shafts show some knowledge of mining. The fact that a great many ancient mounds all over the country contain skeletons, encased in mica plates, associates these diggings with the builders of the mounds.

The earliest traditional knowledge we have of the habitation of the southern highlands has been handed down by the Cherokees. They say that before they conquered the country and settled in the valleys, the inhabitants were “moon-eyed,” that is, were unable to see during certain phases of the moon. During a period of blindness, the Creeks swept through the mountain passes, up the valleys, and annihilated the race. The Cherokees in turn conquered the Creeks, with great slaughter, which must have occurred at a very ancient date, for the country of their conquest and adoption is the seat of their religious legends and traditional romances.

No definite boundaries can be assigned to the land of any Indian tribe, much less a nation of proud and warlike mountaineers who were happy only when carrying bloodied tomahawks into an enemy’s country. The tribe was distinguished by two great geographical divisions, the Ottari, signifying “among the mountains,” and the Erati, signifying “lowland.” Provincial historians have designated them as “In the Valley” and “Overhill” towns, the great highland belt between the Blue Ridge and Smoky mountains being designated as a valley. The ancient realm of the tribe may, in a general way, be described as the headwater valleys of the Yadkin and Catawba on the east; of the Keowee, Tugaloo, Flint, Etowa and Coosa on the south, and the several tributaries of the Tennessee on the west. There were 60 towns, and 6,000 fighting men could at any time be called by the grand chief to the war path. It was the military prowess of these warriors that gave to the nation the most picturesque and most secure home of all the American tribes. A keen and delicate appreciation of the beautiful in nature, as associated with the grandeur of their surroundings, inspired them to unparalleled heroism in its defense against intrusion. They successfully withstood neighboring tribes, but their contest with the whites was a contest with destiny, in which they yielded only after a long and bloody struggle. The ancient nation of the mountains, expelled from its home, crippled and enervated, but improved in some respects, has found a home in the less picturesque and distant west; but has left a dissevered and withered limb which, like a fossil, merely reminds us of a bygone period of history.

If any one doubts that the Cherokees possessed an appreciative love of country and a genuine sympathy with nature, let him turn to his map, and pronounce those Indian names which have not been cruelly, almost criminally, displaced by English common-places. Let him remember too that there is a meaning in their euphony, and a suggestiveness in their melody. It is a grievous fault, the more grievous because it is irreparable, that so many of the bold streams which thunder down forest slopes and through echoing cañons, have lost those designations whose syllables glide from the tongue in harmony with the music of the crystal currents. Of many natural features the names are preserved, but their meanings have been lost.

East of the Blue Ridge, in North Carolina, very few geographical names of Indian origin have survived. In the valley of the French Broad there is also a barrenness of prehistoric nomenclature. From this circumstance it is argued, and the argument is well sustained, that there was no permanent habitation of Indians in these two localities. The villages were located in valley, and were known by the name of the streams. In some instances, traditions became associated with the name, and in them we have a key to an unwritten scroll. A village, furthermore, gave to a region an importance which made its name widely known, not only in the tribe but among traders and other white adventurers, and thus made it a fixture. There is the additional negative evidence of no permanent habitation, in the fact that mention is no where made, in the annals of military expeditions against the Indians, of villages east of the Balsam mountains. Hunters and warriors penetrated the forests for game, and carried the tomahawk to every frontier, frequently making the Upper Catawba and French Broad valleys their camping ground. While we know nothing about the facts, the presumption is reasonable that at least all the larger rivers and their tributaries were given names by the Indians, which perished with the change of race and ownership.

Catawba is not of Cherokee origin. The river takes its name from the tribe which inhabited its valley until a recent date; South Carolina. It was a species of vandalism to substitute French Broad for Agiqua and Tocheeostee, the former being the name applied by the Erati, or “over the mountain” Cherokees, to the lower valley, and the latter by the Ottari, or “valley” towns, to the upper or North Carolina section below Asheville. “Racing river” is a literal translation of the term Tocheeostee. Above Asheville, where the stream is placid and winds snake-like through the wide alluvions, it took the name Zillicoah.

Swanannoa is one of the most resonant of Indian names, though in being accommodated to English orthography it has lost much of its music. It would be impossible to indicate the original pronunciation. I can, perhaps, tell you nearer how to utter it. Begin with a suppressed sound of the letter “s,” then with tongue and palate lowered, utter the vowel sound of “a” in swan four times in quick succession, giving to the first as much time as to the second two, and raise the voice one note on the last. The word is said to have been derived from the sound made by a raven’s wing as it sweeps through the air. Before white settlers came into the country that species of bird was very plentiful along all the streams, and at their points of confluence were its favorite roosting places, whence, aided by the scent of the water, it sallied up stream in search of food. Hundreds collected at the mouth of the Swanannoa, and the name was the oft repeated imitation, by the voice, of the music of their wings, as they whizzed past the morning camp-fire of the hunter or warrior bands, on the bank of the stream. The hungry, homely, and hated raven is indeed an humble origin for a name so beautiful, applied to an object so much applauded for its beauty.

If the upper tributaries of the French Broad ever had names worthy of their character which have been displaced by such colloquialisms as Cathey’s creek, Davidson’s river, Mills’ river, and Little river, they perished with the race more in sympathy with nature than the inhabitants of the last century. By some chance that gentle stream which snakes through the flat valley of Henderson county, has preserved an Indian designation, though it is probably a borrowed one. Ocklawaha is the name which we find in old legal documents, and its tributary, which gives the county’s capital a peninsular situation, is designated the Little Ocklawaha—a barbarous mixture of Indian and English. The word is of Seminole origin, and means “slowly moving water.” It was applied to a river in Florida by the natives, and to this Carolina stream by the “low country” people who found summer homes beyond the Blue Ridge, because of the applicability of the name and its resemblance in some other respects to the original Ochlawaha. Reverence of antiquity and the geographical genius of the red race, can not be claimed as an argument in favor of the re-substitution of the Indian designation for the present universally used colloquialism, “Mud creek,” as homely as it is false in the idea it suggests. Ochlawaha is not only more pleasing to the ear, but gives a much more faithful description of the landscape feature designated, and hence has sufficient claims to the public recognition which we take the lead in giving it.

Going southward, and crossing the Blue Ridge and Green river, which derives its name from the tint of its water, we come to the Saluda range, the fountain of a river of the same name. The word is of Catawba origin, as is also Estatoa. Toxaway, or more properly spelled Tochawha, is Cherokee, but we have no satisfactory interpretation of its meaning.

The Balsams are rich in legendary superstitions. The gloom of their dark solitudes fills even the hurried tourist with an unaccountable fear, and makes it impossible for him to suppress the recollection of tales of ghosts and goblins upon which his childish imagination was fed. The mountains assume mysterious shapes, projecting rocks seem to stand beckoning; and the echo of cascades falls upon the ear like ominous warnings. No wonder then, that it was a region peopled by pagan superstition, with other spirits than human. It is the instinct of the human mind, no matter what may be its degree of cultivation, to seek an explanation of things. When natural causes can not be discovered for the phenomena of nature, the supernatural is drawn upon. The Cherokees knew no natural reason why the tops of high mountains should be treeless, but having faith in a personal devil they jumped at the conclusion that the “bald” spots must be the prints of his horrid feet as he walked with giant strides from peak to peak.

Near the Great Divide, between the waters of Pigeon river and French Broad, is situated the Devil’s Court-house, which rises to an altitude of 6,049 feet. Near it is Court-house mountain. At both places his Satanic majesty was believed to sit in judgment, and doom to punishment all who had been wayward in courage, or had departed from a strict code of virtue, though bravery in war atoned for a multitude of sins.

The devil had besides these a supreme court-house, where finally all mankind would be summoned for trial. This was one of the great precipices of the Whiteside mountain, situated in Jackson county, at the southern terminus of the Cowee range. There is no wonder that the simple minded pagans supposed that nature had dedicated this structure to supernatural use, for it excels in grandeur the most stupendous works of human hands. It consists of a perpendicular wall of granite, so curved as to form an arc more than a mile long, and rises 1,800 feet from the moss-blanketed rocks which form the pavement of an enclosed court. About half way up there is a shelf-like projection, not more than two feet wide, which leads from one side to a cave. This was supposed to be the inner room of the great temple, whence the judge of human conduct would come to pronounce sentence at the end of the world. That this important business should be entrusted to Satan is a mythological incongruity. A certain sorcerer, or medicine-man, taking advantage of the popular superstition about the place, made the cave his home, going in and out by the narrow shelf. He announced that he was in league with the spirits of the next world, and consequently could go in and out with perfect safety, which fact caused him to be recognized as a great man. There have been found, in the vicinity of Whiteside, Indian ladders—that is, trees with the limbs trimmed so as to form steps. What they could have been used for we are unable to conjecture; certainly not to scale the mountain sides, for such a thing would be impossible.

Old Field mountain, in the Balsam range, derives its name from the tradition that it was Satan’s bed-chamber. The Cherokees of a recent generation affirm that his royal majesty was often seen by their forefathers, and even some of the first white settlers had knowledge of his presence. On the top of the mountain there is a prairie-like tract, almost level, reached by steep slopes covered with thickets of balsam and rhododendron, which seem to garrison the reputed sacred domain. It was understood among the Indians to be forbidden territory, but a party one day permitted their curiosity to tempt them. They forced a way through the entangled thickets, and with merriment entered the open ground. Aroused from sleep and enraged by their audacious intrusion, the devil, taking the form of an immense snake, assaulted the party and swallowed 50 of them before the thicket could be regained.

Among the first whites who settled among the Indians and traded with them, was a party of hunters who used this superstition to escape punishment for their reprehensible conduct. They reported that they were in league with the great spirit of evil, and to prove that they were, frequented this “old field.” They described his bed, under a large overhanging rock, as a model of neatness. They had frequently thrown into it stones and brushwood during the day, while the master was out, but the place was invariably as clean the next morning “as if it had been brushed with a bunch of feathers.”

But there is another legend of the Balsams more significant than any of these. It is the Paradise Gained of Cherokee mythology, and bears some distant resemblance to the Christian doctrine of mediation. The Indians believed that they were originally mortal in spirit as well as body, but above the blue vault of heaven there was, inhabited by a celestial race, a forest into which the highest mountains lifted their dark summits. It is a fact worth noticing that, while the priests of the orient described heaven as a great city with streets of gold and gates of pearl and fine gems, the tribes of the western continent aspired to nothing beyond the perpetual enjoyment of wild nature.

The mediator, by whom eternal life was secured for the Indian mountaineers, was a maiden of their own tribe. Allured by the haunting sound and diamond sparkle of a mountain stream, she wandered far up into a solitary glen, where the azalea, the kalmia, and the rhododendron brilliantly embellished the deep, shaded slopes, and filled the air with their delicate perfume. The crystal stream wound its crooked way between moss covered rocks over which tall ferns bowed their graceful stems. Enchanted by the scene she seated herself upon the soft moss and overcome by fatigue was soon asleep. The dream picture of a fairyland was presently broken by the soft touch of a strange hand. The spirit of her dream occupied a place at her side, and wooing, won her for his bride.

Her supposed abduction caused great excitement among her people, who made diligent search for her recovery in their own villages. Being unsuccessful, they made war upon the neighboring tribes in the hope of finding the place of her concealment. Grieved because of so much bloodshed and sorrow, she besought the great chief of the eternal hunting grounds to make retribution. She was accordingly appointed to call a council of her people at the forks of the Wayeh (Pigeon) river. She appeared unto the chiefs in a dream, and charged them to meet the spirits of the hunting ground with fear and reverence.

At the hour appointed the head men of the Cherokees assembled. The high Balsam peaks were shaken by thunder and aglare with lightning. The cloud, as black as midnight, settled over the valley; then lifted, leaving upon a large rock a cluster of strange men, armed and painted as for war. An enraged brother of the abducted maiden swung his tomahawk, and raised the war whoop; but a swift thunderbolt dispatched him before the echo had died in the hills. The chiefs, terror-stricken, fled to their towns.

The bride, grieved by the death of her brother and the failure of the council, prepared to abandon her new home and return to her kindred in the valleys. To reconcile her the promise was granted that all brave warriors and their faithful women should have an eternal home in the happy hunting ground above, after death. The great chief of the forest beyond the clouds became the guardian spirit of the Cherokees. All deaths, either from wounds in battle or disease, were attributed to his desire to make additions to the celestial hunting ground, or on the other hand, to his wrath which might cause their unfortunate spirits to be turned over to the disposition of the evil genius of the mountain tops. Plagues and epidemics were sometimes supposed to be the work of sorcerers, witches and monsters, human and superhuman. Once during an epidemic of smallpox, so says a traditional tale, a devil in human form was tracked to the headwaters of Tusquittee, where he was apprehended in a cave. They saluted him with a volley of poisoned arrows, which he tossed back with derisive laughter. After several repetitions with the same result, a bird spoke to the disheartened warriors, telling them that their enemy was invulnerable, except one finger which, if hit, would cause his instant death. As in the case of Achilles, of Troy, the vulnerable spot received a fatal shot, and the plague ceased its ravages. The bird was of the variety of little yellow songsters—a variety protected as sacred down to within the memory of the man from whom the writer received this legend.

We return now to the discussion of Indian names, with which the narration of incidents, connected with the geographical nomenclature of the Balsam mountains has slightly interfered. The Indian names of the French Broad have already been given. The present name has an historical signification to commend its continued use, if nothing more. Prior to the treaty made between England and France in 1763, the latter nation claimed all the country drained by the Mississippi, the ground of this claim being actual settlement near the mouth of that river and at several places along its course. International customs gave the claim validity, though the English never admitted it. Adair, an early historian, says: “Louisiana stretched to the head-springs of the Alleghany and Monongahela, of the Kenawha and Tennessee. Half a mile from the southern branch of the Savannah is Herbert’s spring, which flows into the Mississippi. Strangers who drank of it, would say they had tasted of French waters.” In like manner, traders and hunters from the Atlantic settlements, in passing from the headwaters of Broad river over the Blue Ridge, and coming to the streams with which they inosculate, would hear, as Adair did, of the French claim, and call it most naturally “French Broad.”

Watauga and Nollichucky are Cherokee designations, but the latter should be spelled Nouachuneh. We are unable to learn the original name of New river. Estatoa, flowing from the Black mountains, has been shortened to “Toe.” The Pigeon was originally Wayeh, which has been simply translated.

The reader should be reminded before going further into this subject that absolute accuracy in the importation of the Cherokee into our language cannot be attained. In the first place no combination of English letters can be made to represent the original sounds, nor can they be uttered by the English mouth. Then again, the same syllables with different inflections have different meanings. The English spelling is merely an attempt at imitation, and the meanings, given by those who profess to know, are sometimes only guesses. In spelling, uniformity is chiefly to be sought. One rule, however, should be followed implicitly: never use a letter whose sound requires closing the lips. A Cherokee said everything with his mouth open. “Tsaraghee” would come nearest a correct pronunciation of the name of the tribe, yet in its application to a mountain in Georgia it is “Currahee.”

The country occupied by the Cherokees down to within the memory of men still living, embraced the valleys west of the Balsam mountains. The first white settlers adopted the geographical nomenclature of the natives, which is still retained. Junaluska, the name of the picturesque mountain group overlooking the Richland and Scott’s creek valleys, was applied by white settlers in honor of the intrepid war chief who commanded the Indian forces in Alabama, belonging to Jackson’s army in the war of 1812. He was an exemplary man, honored by his people and respected by the whites. The State, in recognition of his military services, granted him a boundary of land in the Cheowah valley, known as the Junaluska farm, on which he was buried in 1847.

Tennessee, the name of the largest river in upper Carolina, is of Indian origin, but was written by the first explorers, “Tennasee.” Kalamutchee was the name of the main stream formed by the Clinch and Holston. The French named the whole river Cosquinambeaux which happily perished with the old maps.

The principal tributary of the Little Tennessee above the Smoky mountains is spelled differently on almost every map. The best authority, however, derived from the Indians themselves, through intelligent citizens, makes it a word of three syllables, spelled Tuckasege. Most old maps give it an additional syllable by doubling the final “e.” The English signification of the word is “terrapin.” There was a town of the same name above the site of Webster, and near it a pond which abounded in the water species of that reptile. The shells were much sought and highly prized by the Indians for ornaments. The couplet of mountains which divide the Tuckasege from Cashier’s valley, are locally known by the English signification “Terrapin,” but the original, “Tuckasege,” should be restored.

Ocona Lufta, the name of the pearly stream which flows through the Indian settlement, is derived from its having been a nesting place for ducks and other water fowls. One of its affluents, the Colehmayeh, is derived from Coleh, “raven,” and Mayeh, “water.” The English “Raven’s fork” is in common use among the whites. Soco, the name of another tributary of the Lufta, means “one.”

Charlestown, in Swain county, occupies the ancient site of the Indian village of Younaahqua or Big Bear. Wesuh, meaning “cat,” has taken the colloquialism Conley’s creek for its name. The post hamlet of Qualla town, in the present Cherokee settlement, is an English name modified to suit the Indian tongue. A white woman named Polly, familiarly “Aunt Polly,” opened a small store. Her Indian customers, unable to give the sound of “p,” their speech being open-mouthed, substituted the “q” sound, which came into general use and finally changed the word. Qualla is a very common name for Indian women.

The euphonious name Nantahala seems to be little understood. The most commonly given interpretation is “maiden’s bosom,” though that meaning can only be derived by a stretch of metaphor. If the word, as supposed by some interpreters, is compounded of Nantaseh and Eylee, it means “between ridges,” whence by far-fetched simile “maiden’s bosom.” But it is more probably compounded of Nantaseh and Eyalee, which literally means “The sun between,” or “half way,” hence “noonday sun.”

The Hiawassee was known among the earliest explorers as the Euphrasee, which was perhaps the name applied by a more southern tribe. The largest affluent of the Hiawassee is the Valley river, known by the Cherokees as Ahmachunahut, meaning “long stream.”

Cullasaja is the old name of that tributary of the Little Tennessee which heads in the Macon highlands, and is noted for the beauty of its cascades. The English signification of the word is “sweet water.” Sugar fork is the local designation, though the maps preserve the old and rich sounding original.

Satoola, the name of a high peak overlooking the upper Macon plateau, has been mercilessly pruned to “Stooley.” Horse Cove is the homely appellation of a parquet-shaped valley within the curved precipice which leads from Satoola to Whitesides. Sequilla, the old Indian name, has a much better sound. Cowee, the designation of the great transverse chain which divides the Tuckasege from the Tennessee is a corruption of Keowe, the form which still attaches to the river. It means “near”, or “at hand.”

The writers regret that they are unable to give the meaning of all the words of Indian origin which appear upon the map. They regret still more that they are unable to restore to all places of general interest the rich accents of the Cherokee tongue. It is a subject which will require long and patient study. Public interest must also be aroused, so that designations long since laid aside, when made known, will be locally applied.

We will now trace the rapid decline of the most warlike of all the Indian tribes, and conclude with an account of the remnant band known as the Eastern Cherokees. One of the first white invasions of the picturesque dominion of the ancient tribe was made by slave traders, late in the seventeenth century, in the interest of West India planters. Hundreds of strong warriors were bound and carried from Arcadia and freedom to malarious swamps and bondage, where they soon sank under the burden of oppressive labor. Cherokees made better slaves than any other Indians, on account of their superior strength and intelligence, and consequently were the most sought. Neighboring tribes were incited to make war upon them by the offer of prizes for captives. After long suffering and much bloodshed, the governor of Carolina, in response to the solicitations of the head men of the tribe, interposed the authority of his government. The Cherokee nation in return acknowledged Great Britain as its protector, and permitted the erection of British forts within its territory. Emissaries of France attempted to win the allegiance of these Indians with presents of gaudy blankets, and arms for the chase. While their affections vacillated between the two nations, the tribe proved loyal in the end to its first vow. In the French war in the year 1757, the Cherokees bore arms against France, with which nation most of the red race were in alliance. On their return from the forks of the Ohio, after the fall of Fort Duquesne, being poorly fed, they raided the settlements and carried away a large number of negro slaves. These taught their masters the elements of farming.

The Cherokees remained loyal to the king during the Revolution, and, associated with tory guerrillas, engaged in many acts of bloody violence. The transmontane settlement, on the Holston in East Tennessee, was the chief object of the tribe’s malignant jealousy. For six years, the little band of settlers held their lives in their hands, struggling incessantly with blood-thirsty foes and slowly devouring poverty.

The Indians themselves suffered incursions from both sides of the mountains. Their villages on the Tuckasege, Little Tennessee and the Hiawassee were frequently destroyed, the country pillaged, corn burned and ponies led away. Ramsey thus describes an expedition of Tennesseeans under command of Colonel John Sevier, the lion of the western border:

“The command, consisting of 120 men, went up Cane creek (from the Holston), crossed Ivy and Swanannoa,” thence through Balsam gap to the Tuckasege. “He entered and took by surprise the town of Tuckasege. Fifty warriors were slain, and fifty women and children taken prisoners. In that vicinity the troops under Sevier burnt 15 or 20 towns and all the graneries of corn they could find. It was a hard and disagreeable necessity that led to the adoption of these apparently cruel measures.” The lower and valley towns afterwards suffered a similar fate.

An incident illustrative of the times is associated with the naming of Fine’s creek in Haywood county. The Indians were in the habit of making sallies down the Pigeon into the Tennessee settlements, then returning to their mountain fastnesses. On one of these expeditions they were routed and followed by Peter Fine and a company of plucky militia. The Indians were overtaken in camp beyond the mountains, one killed and the property recovered. The whites were in turn followed by the Indians, and, while sustaining a night attack, Vinet Fine, the major’s brother, was killed. A hole was cut in the ice, and, to conceal the body from the savages, it was dropped into the creek. It is appropriate, therefore, that the stream should be called Fine’s creek.

Soon after the Revolution the Cherokees made a session of all their 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.