THE WOODRUFF STORIES. SAL-0-QUAH; OR, IfBOY-LIFE AMONG THE CHEROKEES. BY REV. F. R. GOULDING, AUTHOR OF "YOUNG MAROONBRS," "MAROONKR'S ISLAND," " FRANK GORDON," Etc. NEW YORK: DODD, MEAD & COMPANY. 1888. RKMSEK fc HAJTSLTnfOMl, fe tfa* 0*er dw UbMim rf COMKM CHAPTER I. FAGB READY TO START--LONG LIFE TO THE YOUNG--AT KANEEKA'S HOUSE--THE FAMILY--THE EVENING WORSHIP--SURPRISE NEXT DAY.-- "OLD WICKED," it CHAPTER II. HISTORY OF OLD WICKED--FORAY ON THE COWETAS-- "I WILL DIE FIGHTING"--MASSACRE AT MUSCLE SHOALS ......... 26 CHAPTER III. VOLUNTARY EXILE--KENNESAW--THE BEGINNING OF A NOTED CHARACTER . . . . . . .36 CHAPTER IV. A CHEROKEE LOCK--GEORGE GUESS--His PERSONAL APPEARANCE AND OCCUPATION -- His ALPHABET -- HISTORY OF ITS PROGRESS--ITS PECULIARITIES -- IM MEDIATE EFFECTS ON HIS NATION--CLOSE OF HIS LIFE . . . . . . . . . .44 vii viii CONTENTS. CHAPTER V. ADIEU TO SEE-QUO-YAH -- SCOSSITY'S WOLF-TRAP -- PEN FOR CROWS -- TURKEY NOOSE -- SCOSSITY'S HOUSE AND HOSPITALITY -- SPUNK A GOOD STYPTIC FOR CUTWOUNDS -- COUSIN ALECK READS FOR SCOSSIT-EQUAH, 59 CHAPTER VL KANEEKA TELLS A REMARKABLE STORY-- INDIAN TRIAL FOR MANSLAUGHTER-- RESEMBLANCE OP CHEROKEE USAGE TO THAT OF THE ANCIENT HEBREWS-- EFFORTS TO SAVE THE LIFE OF THE CONDEMNED MAN -- DAY OF EXECUTION -- SO-TOT AND WHAT BECAME OF HIM, 67 (CHAPTER VM. FISHING EXCURSION-- THE FISH-SPEA*-- FLY-FISHING . 84 CHAPTER VIII. FISHING WITH " LIVE BAIT " -- THE " FisHmnmT " AND " BUSH -DRAG" -- POISONING AND MUDDYING THB WATER -- THE SCOOP-NET . . . . . .92 CHAPTER IX. MOONLIGHT AND Music -- UNEXPECTED RESULTS -- PAN THERS 99 CHAPTER X. FIRE-FLIES--MORE Music, BUT NOT FROM MAN--A VbtUNTARY FROM A JMANY-VOICED CHOIR -- INTEREST ING CONVERSATION . ; . . . , . no CONTENTS. ' Ik FAO* ISocx MOUNTAIN---SPLENDID GLOWWORM--OLD MILIt -TAtiY FORTIFICATION --A THUNDER-STORM--SUNSET, 119 CHAPTER XH. Scmxfis STORY--KANBEKA'S EXPLANATION-*-THE PONY ' . 128 xm. PLEASANT DISAPPOINT*|BNT--HdvfcL CORN-SHELLER-- BUCKET-TRACK--JACK OF ALL TRADES '. . . 140 CHAPTER XIV. ^HELPS' STORY--STEAMBOAT EXPLOSION--A TOMA HAWKED CALF--THE BEAR AND THE TWO STEELTRAPS--A WHIRLWIND, AND -DEVICE FOR ESCAPE . 149 CHAPTER XV. DESTINY--# MISCHIEF-WORK'* AND " MURDER-BLOOD"-- WOUNDED Doo-MHASit1 SIMONS,--WARRANT BY WORD OF MOUTH--THE PERROT FAMILY--GARC.ON, 160 6HAPT1ER XVI. KAMKttKA's REPORT OF THE PURSUIT--USE OF A MIR ROR -- DESPERADO -- SKILFUL LYING -- EXTEMPORE STRAIT-JACKET ... . . . . .171 CHAPTER XVII. SECRET SIGNS -- PONY CLUB AGAIN--HOT PURSUIT-- HALT I HALT!" --THE TRIAL --DYING CONFES- X CONTENTS. PAOB SIONS--YELLOW-JACKETS -- LORENZO'S SCARE--PRE PARING TO TRAVEL --VISIT TO SCOSSIT-EQUAH -- HOMINY MORTAR AND PESTLE -- CONNAHAYNEE -- SEE-QUO-YAH AGAIN ....... 182 CHAPTER XVIH. ECONOMIZING FOOD, A LESSON FROM THE RICHEST BE- ING IN THE UNIVERSE--CHEROKEE ELECTION-DAY, AND METHOD OF ELECTION 202 SCIPIO--INDIAN DOCTORING--A FELLOW-TRAVELLER CN FOOT--CHEROKEE HOTEL--SLEEPING ACCOMMO DATIONS--MEETING OF TWO RARE CHARACTERS-- VANDEVER'S STORY .'..-.*. . . . . 212 CHAPTER XX. WOLF-TRAP--CHEROKEE WEDDING AND FUNERAL -- ETOWAH RIVER--MR. MILLER'S--TA-KAH-TO-KUH . 229 CHAPTER XXI. VISIT TO THE CAVE--ITS TWO ENTRANCES--PANTHER WITHIN, AND WHAT WAS DONE--PREPARATIONS FOR ENTERING--THE ANTE - ROOM--GALLERIES -- " THE SYLVAN TEMPLE"--BAT CHAMBER--SOMETHING ON FIRE--UNPLEASANT PREDICAMENT--CHEERLESS RE TREAT--EFFORTS TO HELP OURSELVES--EMERGING AT LAST -- THE MILLERS AGAIN--TO-KAH-TO-KUH, AND A PROSPECT--CONCLUSION . . . . .242 SAL-O-QUAH. CHAPTER I. READY TO START--LONG LIFE TO THE YOUNG-- AT KANEEKA'S HOUSE--THE FAMILY -- THE EVENING WORSHIP -- SURPRISE NEXT DAY -- "OLD WICKED." EIGHO for Cherokee-landl" said my father at breakfast, the morning after our ride through* Nacoochee Valley. "'Are you all ready?" . *' Ready! Ready! Ready!" was the response from each and all. It was just a week and a day since we had left Athens. Was it only that ? It seemed a month rather than a week. But so it usually is with travellers, especially at the beginning of a tour. So it certainly is in the journey of life, and 12 SAL-O-SUAH ; OR, BOY-LIF& probably for the same reason; every day is more or less marked with novelty. This is a new world on which the young have entered. Every thing is fresh. Successive weeks and months are but successive departments in a vast museum, filled with wonderful things that keep the atten tion wide awake. In middle life the world is no longer new. The exciting novelties which mark the progress of time are farther apart; a year seems but the half or the quarter of what it used to be. Later in life past fifty, past sixty, time rushes with fearful velocity. But this may not be due altogether to the lack of novelty: it may be the solemn warning which nature gives that the stream of life is hurrying to its plunge. Late in the afternoon of Saturday, when the sun, as if weary with his day's labor, had laid his head upon a pillow-like cloud in the west, in anticipation of a night's repose, we left the great highway by which we had entered the Gherokee Territory, and turned into a newly opened road, very narrow, very winding, very level, but so little used that it was more dis- marked by triages * on the trees than by marks of Wheels upon the ground. In passing ceftaln points of hilly ground, we could catch glimpses of a wide and fertile valley, and I petcieived that we were approaching obliquely the rich bottoms O-QUAH; OR, BOY-LIFE ings, we saw a neat log-house, built upon the usual frontier plan of " two pens and a passage," with shed rooms in the rear, and surmounted by a roof of short clap boards. The house was white, as if covered with a coat of lime; and there was a piazza-like shed in front, supported by posts set in the ground. The floor of this piazza, was of earth, a little raised above the surrounding level; and the eye was delighted with the sight of a luxuriant vine gracefully climbing round each post " That my house," said Kaneeka, pointing to it, with pride. "A very different house from the one in which I first saw you," said my father. " Had not been in white man's country then," returned Kaneeka, quickly; "had not learned white man's ways." "Is your pretty house white-washed with lime ? " cousin Aleck asked. " No, only white clay," Kaneeka answered. " It" is certainly very pure and very pretty," said my aunt, with delight. As we drew nearer, we saw Saloquah's pony AMONG THE CHEROKEES. 15 hitched near the gate, for the house was sur rounded with a little stockade fence, giving to it, and to all around it, a very picturesque ap pearance ; to add to which we saw Yellow-Bird, (or Chescoo-teleneh,)-Kaneeka's wife, standing in the doorway, holding little Sallicoo by the hand, while a boy, seemingly eight or ten years of age, dressed in fringed deerskin, was running fast as his nimble legs could carry him to meet his father. "We are glad to find in these wild woods such a happy-looking home," said my aunt. " I was hardly prepared for it." " Few homes in my own dear Scotland seem to be happier than this," said cousin Aleck. Kaneeka's eye kindled. " Not everybody so. in Injin country," said he. "I not so either till He come," he added, point ing to my father> who, with a blush of pleasure, hastily inquired: "And pray what did I do to help your cause so much?" "You show me white man ways," said Kaneeka, with enthusiasm, and growing eloquent as one thought suggested another, "You read me white man Bible. You tell me white man Saviour. You teach me and my wife love God, love pray, love good, love everybody. "Jlien our corn begin to grow, om? hog begin to get fat, our eow give plenty milk We get happy, and we get rich." My father looked down for a moment, then, seemingly impressed with Kaneeka's assemblage of facts, he turned to cousin Aleck, and asked: "Bo you recollect the thought you read to me the other, day about the ancient patriarchs ? that in those days, when men had little faith in a future life, God gave great prosperity to Abra ham, Job, and other of His distinguished ser vants, in order probably to convince men by sensible signs that godliness is gain." , " Yes," replied cousin Aleck; " and I recollect you added to it the thought, that it was probably for a similar purpose toward the present heathen, that God causes Christian countries to be so far in advance of pagans and anti-Christians in all that pertains to worldly well-being." w Come, read, sing, pray." IVJy father and cousin Aleck were amused, as well as gratified, at the free and easy spirit in which the act was performed. Kaneeka had often witnessed our evening worship during the journey, and had so greatly enjoyed it that he coveted the same privilege beneath his own roof, in the presence of his wife and children. Of course there was no refusal. By home training, we were all singers, and my father and cousin were used to the duties of a Christian household. Moreover, this simple act of Kaneeka's so touched their hearts that in all the exercises of that evening there was an unusual pathos. An old familiar tune was sung, in which four parts were carried, and the rich melody of the negro voices at the door, uniting with the deep bass of my father, and the soft second of my aunt, formed a compound of sweet notes that was exceedingly pleasant. Kaneeka and his wife were deeply moved. I saw Chescoo, In dian though she was, and trained to self-control, wipe away a tear"; and the coal-black eyes of her 3p SAL-O-QUAH; OR, BOY-LIFE little ones fairly sparkled as they looked first upon one, then upon another of the singers. I am sure no one of the company ever forgot that first evening's worship in an Indian's house, in the heart of the Cherokee country. Kaneeka seemed to delight in surprises. The next day was the Sabbath. We knew that there was no place of worship within several days' journey; nevertheless, according to custom, we had attired ourselves suitably to the day, but had made our preparations very leisurely, having no expectation of services other than a repetition of the pleasant scene of the preceding evening. Between nine and ten o'clock that morning, however, a decently clad old Indian and his wife came and seated themselves in silence on a log not far from our encampment. They were soon followed by a showily dressed young cou ple ; after whom came a rough-looking hunter, then an old*man of singular appearance, in whom the lamb and the wolf seemed to ,be struggling for predominance, and the wolf, as usual, prevailing. Finally, there assembled as many as fifty, who all took their seats in silence AMONG THE CHEROKEES. 21 \ upon two or three logs tl^at lay conveniently near together, around a stump that might, in case of necessity, be used as a table or pulpit desk. Indeed, we subsequently learned that these logs and that stump had served more than once as a place of worship. When they had assembled, Kaneeka, who acted as if perfectly ignorant of their presence, and who had not said a word to any of us on the subject, came with smiling face to my father and cousin Aleck, and said, pointing to the assembled people: " Come, preach!" " But I am no preacher," returned my father. " You preach last night," said Kaneeka. " You preach again to-day." " But I have not thought of anything to talk about." "Can read Bible, and talk, and sing," per sisted Kaneeka. " But how can J read or talk to a people when ,1 do not understand their language and they do not understand mine ?" 22 SArO-aUAH; OR, BOY-LIFE "You read and talk, /make them under stand." Thus ended Kaneeka. There was no resisting his persuasion. My father and cousin selected the touching parable of the Prodigal Son, (Luke xv,) which was read and interpreted sentence by sentence. The Lord's Prayer formed the chief part of the two prayers, one at the opening, the other at the close of the service, both of which also were devoutly translated ioto Cherokee. Our choir, toor was organized as on the pre ceding evening, and the effect upon the people of the simple music was very manifest. Their usually passionless faces continued to be dec orously turned toward the kader of the ser vices, but they were lighted up with undisguised pleasure. I observed, during the reading and interpreta tion of the parable, indications of deep interest. Not an act Qr motion was indulged inconsistent with the most staid propriety -- for an Indian never violates decorum -- but some of them were strongly moved, especially the old couple who came -first, and the man described as of AMONG THE CHEROKEES. 23 singular appearance." The face of this last, which was at first so marked with savage fierce ness as to be painfully repulsive, began gradually to soften with the progress of the reading, until at that part of the narrative where the father is represented as saying, " Bring forth the best robe and put it on him," the eye of the savage, still directed toward the reader, filled with tears, and his lip quivered with emotion. In the course of an hour, the services were pronounced ended, and the people dismissed. Several came up to shake hands, and to express by grunts how'much they had been gratified, and most of them on departure turned toward us a look of thanks. Quite a number, however, seemed loath to, depart They occupied their places on the log or walked about, looking ex pressively at Kaneeka, and exchanging a few brief sentences with each other. Among these, the most noticeable were the three old people already mentioned. "Injin want more Bible," said Kaneeka. * Want to hear over" The request, of course, was granted. The 24 SAL-O-QUAH; OR, BOY-LIFE parable was again read and interpreted, and theft all departed better satisfied. In a talk with us, that afternoon, Kaneeka informed us that the man who had particularlyattracted our attention was a noted character, known among his people as Scossiteh or Scossit-equah, (Wicked^ or Big Wicked,) and by the white people as Jack, and Wicked Jack; that he had been one of the most desperate characters * known, being afraid of nothing, human or divine, and taking a fiendish delight in all sorts of mis chief and suffering; but that during the past few months he had heard the gospel for the first time, and had been so won by the gentle, loving character of Jesus Christ as to have gone to the Mission Station at Brainerd, and there begged to know more. From that time forward, his whole life had been changed, and the change had begun to show itself even in his face.* * It may be gratifying to the readers of this narrative to be assured that " Old Wicked" was a real character, just as described; and those who have access to the old files of the "Missionary Herald," published at Boston, may see that in the following year, 1823, he united with the Mission Church, and was baptized under the singular name of Jack Crawfish. AMONG THE CHEROKEES. 2J We subsequently learned that the assembly brought together that day was by no means accidental. It had been adroitly managed by Kaneeka the day before, when Saloquah left us on the road. He had taken a short cut home through the mountains, to inform Chescoo of our near approach, but had stopped also at the lodge of the old couple who were the first comers, and through them had invited the people to meet when the sun was " half-way up the sky." CHAPTER II. HISTORY OF OLD WICKED -- FORAY ON THE COWETAS -- "l WILL DIE FIGHTING"--MASSACRE AT MUSCLE SHOALS. HE remarkable face of Old Wicked, so deeply marked with the lines of passion and of hate, but softened now, and partially transformed by a new and over powering influence, awakened in all of us so lively an interest that at the first conve nient moment Kaneeka was requested to tell us more about him. I remember distinctly the facts as they were then given, but must relate them in my own language, retaining only such characteristic peculiarities as impressed them selves upon my memory. Scossit-equah, or Big Wicked,, as his present name imports, was not always the bad man that 26 ?Ji?:^?*^-y;,;;^^^ SAL-0-QUAH. 27 he became. He was naturally of a noble spirit always Ijrave, always true to his friends, al ways scorning meanness; but his good quali ties were converted into gall and poison by evil influences. In boyhood he was known as Tullo-tahe, or Two-killer, because, while learning the use of the bow, he had killed two squirrels at one shot. During the greater part of his early manhood, he was known as Coweta-tahe, or Coweta-killer, and the reason of the change was this: In one of the forays which were then very frequent between neighboring nations, he and a younger brother, to whom he was tenderly attached, made a night attack upon the Cowetas, a frontier tribe. - of the Coosas, and began their return with five scalps and a young woman of great beauty. They had left all danger behind them, as they supposed, having crossed the line, and plunged deep into a rayine, where they stopped to con ceal themselves and to rest. While smoking their pipes and trying'to comfort their captive in her loss of country and friends, they heard afar off the tramp of horses. Pursuers were upon 26 28 SAL-O-QUAH; OR, BOY-LIFE their track, and it was soon manifest that these were too numerous to be resisted. .Their only hope of escape was by a ruse. They hastened to ascend the opposite side of the ravine, and there left signs as though they had passed on; but they came back on a concealed trail, plunged into a thicket of briery vines, and there lay, awaiting the issue. Their captive was blindfolded and made to lie close. By ,a most untoward accident, however, a young man rode into the ravine directly toward their concealment. He had left the trail, and was about to stumble upon them at random. They waited until he was within ten steps, when twang went Scossit-equah's bowstring, and the young man -- a handsome fellow, with the look of a great brave -- fell from his horse, pierced through the breast with an arrow. A moment after, the horse was caught and brought behind the vines for concealment; and scarcely had the lifeless body been dragged to the same place and the scalp taken, ere another horseman fol lowed the trail of the first, and shared his fate. This last act was by the hand of the brother, AMONG THE CHEROKEES. 29 t who, hoping that both might now be furnished with the means of flight, ran to catch the rider-\ less horse. He failed to do this, and the horse ran wildly -away, carrying in its empty saddle the tidings of disaster. Its return to the pursu ing company was followed by a fierce yell of hate and revenge. The tramp of horses' feet sounded on all sides, and then ceased. The fugitives were discovered and surrounded. Their enemies had taken their stands, and were going to hunt them like deer. Soon a heavy volume of smoke rolled up the ravine. The dry herbage, collected on the ground for years, untouched by the annual fires, had been ignited, and the tall flames, driven by the wind, came roaring their threat of a horrible death. The two brave men looked that dreadful enemy in the face, and the younger said: " Brother, you have a horse, and may escape, I am on foot, and must die. But I do not think the Great Spirit intended me to be smoked to death like a rabbit, or burnt to death like a snake, or to die in captivity by the hands of women. I will die fighting. Mount your horse* 3O SAL-O-QUAH; OR, BOY-LIFE When my war-whoop sounds on one side of the ravine, all the warriors will collect there, and you can escape on the other. Farewell! Take these scalps from my girdle. Shaw them at home, and say that I died like a warrior." His last act was to loose the captive woman, and tell her to go free. He rushed upon his enemies with a whoop so loud and divided as to sound like whoops from two different men. All the pursuers hastened to meet him. He shot down one, wounded another, and was fighting a third, when he fell pierced by a dozen arrows and balls. In the mean time, Scossit-equah, scarcely able to keep from fallowing and dying with him, mounted his horse, escaped unseen in the opposite direction, and brought home the story of his brother's h*eroism. The poor woman, on being loosed, tore the bandage from her eyes, looked at the body of the young man, and, with a wail of anguish, threw herself upon it. She must have lain there long insensible, for when discovered by her deliverers, she was so badly burned that she begged to be at once killed and buried with him whom she mourned. He was her lover, and they were soon to have been married. Scossity, or as he was then called, Tullo-tahe, returned home with seven scalps hanging from his girdle--three of which had been taken by his brother. From that day forward, for many years, he was known as Coweta-tahe. But he often declared that no name of honor could compen sate for the loss of his brother; nor could his revenge be satisfied with less than as many Coweta scalps as there were days between one green-corn season and another. This was the beginning of his being what he afterward be came-- fierce, hateful, and hating. A few years after this, while living in a distant part of the nation, far to the sun-setting, he and others of his town went with my uncle Bowls --you may have heard of him as General Bowls, for he was a famous man in his day -- to Tellico Blockhouse,* to receive from the United States * Tellico Blockhouse was a military post and an agency of the United States for the Cherokees. It was in Tennessee, not far from the site of the present Chattanooga. General Bowls was a Cherokee chief, and the incidents here recorded of him, in connection with the names of Stewart and Scott, are parjt of $2 SAL-O-QUAH; OR, BOY-LIFE Agent the money promised to be paid our peo ple, every year, for their lands. I was a little boy at the time, only seven or eight years old, but my uncle Bowls, who had conceived a jjreat liking to me, took me with him on the trip. We went to Tellico, received the share of money due to our town, and were returning home, when our provisions fell short, and we stopped to hunt. We made our camp at the head of the Big Shoals on the Tennessee River; you white people know them as the Muscle Shoals. While we were encamped there, several boats loaded with white people and negroes, men, women, and children, came and landed near us. They were movers to some place down the Mis sissippi River. The boats were under the com mand of two white men, named Stewart and Scott, who not only calculated on making money by moving the families, but had provided them selves with trinkets for trading with any Indians they might meet on the way. Learning that the red men ashore were abundantly supplied with the history "of his ill-starred people. The account given is cor roborated by the testimony of white persons who .were present AMONG 'THE CHEROKEES. 33 money, they invited them into the boats, treated them to all appearance very hospitably, and supplied them so well with liquor that they became intoxicated. It is said that " a fool and his money are soon parted;" the proverb is certainly true of a drunken Indian, for as soon as he is drunk, he feels rich, and wants to buy everything. The moment the liquor had taken effect, Stewart and Scott displayed their wares, and tempted the Indians to buy. In a few hours, all the money ashore had passed into the hands of these white men, and there remained with the Indians only a few worthless trinkets, which they had been induced to buy at the rate of twelve dollars for a string, of glass beads, six teen dollars for a little looking-glass with gilt edges, and thirty dollars an ounce for vermilion and other showy paints. When the Indians be came sober, and saw how they had been treated, they went aboard the boats, returned what they had purchased, and demanded a return of the money. But Stewart and Scott only laughed at them, saying that they were not children, to VOL. in. -- c 34 SAL-O-QUAH; OR, BOY-LIFE make a bargain one moment and fly from it the next. The Indians argued that the act was not theirs, but the whisky's; and insisted on all being restored as before the trade, offering to pay for the whisky, which had been given them, at the rate of four dollars per gallon, which was probably ten times more than it cost Stewarfc and Scott, however, would listen to no arguments, and peremptorily ordered them to leave the boats. They did so, but collected on the river barik, and began to load their rifles, resolved that, at what ever cost, the money should be refunded. At this juncture, General Bowls, hoping to quiet the feelings of his people, took with him Scossity and several other men of tried courage and cool ness, went with them aboard the boats, earnestly warned the white men of the coming danger, and tried to persuade them to avoid it by undo ing the wrong they had done. Instead of heed ing them, these two men seized their boat-poles, rushed upon the red men, killed one of them by a blow upon the head, and another by piercing his breast with the iron-headed pole. The sur vivors hastily retreated to land, and, though ex- AMONG THE CHEROKEES. 35 cited almost beyond self-control, they strove most earnestly to restrain the exasperated mul titude. But all in vain. The blood of their butchered brothers was before their eyes, and deadly rifles were in their hands. In less than, a minute, Stewart and Scott lay stretched upon the deck, killed at the first fire, and soon every other white man aboard shared the same fate. The women and children were left undisturbed; and one of them afterward testified that, even during the horrors of the massacre, the non- combatants were treated with respect and kind ness. , The story is told of Scossity, that while the women and children were bewailing their slaughtered friends, whose bodies lay upon the deck, his heart was so touched by the sight of a woman weeping bitterly over the bloody re mains of her husband and son, that he went to ' *s. her, and with the corner of her apron wiped her * eyes, saying, in a gentle tone, " I sorry." CHAPTER III. VOLUNTARY EXILE -- KENNESAW -- THE BEGINNING OF A NOTED CHARACTER. FTER the massacre, the Indians took possession of the boats and their con tents, passed down the Tennessee into the Ohio; tjien down the Ohio into the Mis sissippi; then along the Mississippi to a cer tain point, where they placed all the white women and children aboard one boat, with the furniture and goods they claimed, with "provisions neces sary for the voyage, and with negro men enough to conduct the boat to New Orleans, and thus set them adrift. But, fearing that this massacre would bring upon them the vengeance of the whites, they poled their boats into one of the branches of the Mississippi, and there lived in the woods awaiting the result. The villany of 36 SA1>0-QUAH. 37 Stewart and Scott in plying them with liquor under the guise of hospitality, and their subse quent violence, caused Scossity to hate the whites almost as intensely as he hated the Cowetas, This was his second step in the downward course. Soon after this, in close connection with it, there was a third. The leading men of the Nation, hearing of the massacre, and fearing that the whites would regard it as a violation of the treaty ratified not long before, assembled in council, memorialized the United States upon the subject, repudiated the act of the outraged people, and sent messengers to General Bowls and his company, demanding that they should come from their concealment, and stand trial for the killing of white men. We came, for I was still with my uncle in the woods; the case was tried, and, I am glad to say, in the spirit of justice; and when the facts came to be known, Bowls and his company were acquitted,.and the boats, with all their contents, were given to the captors as forfeited by the misconduct of Stewart and Scott 38 SAL-O-QUAH ; "OR, BOY-LIFE This act of unexpected justice somewhat mollified Scossity's feelings toward the whites; but toward the rulers of his own people he becam.e intensely imbittered for what he regarded as their cowardly, or at least their selfish, fail ure to stand by them in their time of trial. From this time forth, he began to regard the world as made up of thieves, liars, and cowards, who deserved only his contempt. He withdrew himself as far as possible from the haunts of men, acknowledging only a few choice friends, whom he loved all the more because they were so few, and being ready to turn his hand against every man, as he believed every man's hand to be turned against him. For many years, he and , others of the Bowls company lived in the wilds beyond the Mississippi; but hearing that there was plenty of buffalo and other game in a coun try farther north, bordering on the Osages, and partly settled by wandering Cherokees like themselves, they removed from White River, and settled there. News of this fine country, far from the whites, and abounding with all that a wild Indian desires, was soon carried back to AMONG THE CHEROKEES. 39 the Nation, and brought out many more settlers. Every year brought more and more, until now as I talk about it,* the Natio n is almost equally divided, half on this side of the Mississippi, half on that. Jhis crowding upon him did not suit Scossitequah. He could not go farther west, for the Osages and other nations were there, of whom he had killed too many to be allowed to pass them alive. His heart began to yearn for friends of his early days -- Kennesaw and See-quo-yah --left in the old country. He returned to see them, and he has continued here ever since. Kennesaw is one of our chiefs. He is a man of good heart and great courage, but he loves whisky, and, when under its influence, he is ready for any act of violence. Scossit-equah was one of the few who could control him. But one day Scossit-equah and others of the company all cjrank "together until they did not know what they were doing. They mounted their ponies, rode over the country whooping and yelling like crazy people, rushed into the town of Suwannee, * In the year 1822. 4O SAL-CHQUAil; OR, BOY-LIFE drove out the people, and set the houses on fire. / This so enraged the inhabitants that they pro3/nounced sentence of death against the perpetra tors, if ever caught within a certain distance of their town. Kennesaw and his crew were thus compelled to remove to a distance. Kennesaw lives now at the foot of a mountain whose top you can see from this place.* When the company was thus broken up, Scossit-equah went to live for a while with his old friend See-quo-yah, who had now become too lame to do bis own hunting, and between whom and himself there existed a strong tie of hate to all white men, their ways, their laws, and their religion. Among the white people there was one thing, however, which, with all his cherished hate, See-quo-yah could not help coveting, and that was what he called " their talking leaf." When * He dwelt there until a short time before the Nation moved to Arkansas, when he died, leaving his name to the mountain, which is still called after him. It rises just outside the town of Marietta, and was. the scene of a fierce cannonade during the war of the Confederacy. Some of the old white settlers still speak of Kennesaw's drunken frolic in burning Suwannee. " * AMONG THE CHEROKEES. 4! he was quite a young man, a prisoner had been taken, in whose pocket was a paper which said exactly the same words to everybody that could read it This was a new and wonderful thing to our people, and they regarded the paper with great reverence, for the prisoner informed them that the art oC talking thus was a gift of the Great Spirit But See-quo-yah Had his own views upon the subject; he regarded the art as a human device, and though it puzzles, him to know how it is to be done, he cannot be con tent without having some similar device for the Cherokees. He cannot speak a word of Eng lish; he does not know a letter in any book; he seeks no help from others; yet his whole being is engaged in trying to give a written language to his people. About a year since, Scossit-equah brought him to this neighborhood, the better to serve him in hunting and fishing. He first built a little lodge near his own, then mounted his pony and went after him. On his way out, Scossijy met with a rough-looking white man by the name of Thompson, to whom he took a great 42 SAL-O-QUAH; OR, BOY-LIFB fancy. Thompson was a good blacksmith, and Scossity watched his works with great interest, to learn as much as possible of his art. But the blacksmith was, at the same time, a warm-hearted Christian, and while teaching Scossity such things as he desired to know about the working of iron, he taught him such things also as he did not desire to know, about Jesus Christ. This new light disturbed him. He tried, but in vain, to banish it from his mind. The idea, conceived for the first time, of a Being of wonderful love who " came into this world to save sinners, even the chief," haunted him through every conscious hour. He remained day after day in Thomp son's neighborhood, professedly learning to work in iron, but really hoping to hear more of "that Wonderful One. From that day to the present he has been a changed man, and every one can see it. Seequo-yah, to whom nothing had been said on the subject before his removal, and who attributed Scossity's softened manner to the effect of years, gladly accepted his friend's offer, and has lived with him until the present time. His mind has M- AMONG THE CHEROKEES. 43 been so completely absorbed with his invention that for a long time he had no't a suspicion of the nature and extent of Scossity's change. But he perceives it now, and is preparing to return to his old home. /'Which I trust he will not do until I can see him I" exclaimed cousin Aleck, deeply interested, "Why, this man See-quo-yah* is a modern Cadmus! If he succeeds, his name will probably outlast both his language and his nation. I must see him, if it is only to know how he looks." * Better known among the whites by his English name of George Guess. 27 CHAPTER IV. A CHEROKEE LOCK -- GEORGE GUESS--HIS PER SONAL APPEARANCE AND OCCUPATION -- HIS ALPHABET -- HISTORY OF ITS PROGRESS -- ITS PECULIARITIES--IMMEDIATE EFFECTS ON HIS NATION -- CLOSE OF HIS LIFE. MODERN Cadmus," cousin Aleck called him. But George Guess was more. Cadmus only introduced into Greece an imperfect alphabet of sixteen let ters -- some say eleven -- which had been taught him in Phoenicia,, and which was gra dually improved, so that in the course of a thousand years it amounted to twenty-two let ters. George Guess, or See-quo-yah, as he was called in Cherokee, perfectly untaught, and un assisted except by having an old spelling-book, of which he did not know a letter, devised a 44 SAL-O-QUAH. 45 peculiar alphabet of eighty-six characters, so \ easily learned that in three days' time an apt scholar could begin to read and write Cherokee, and so perfectly suited to the language that from that day to the present it has never needed improvement But I must tell my story before saying more. Early next morning, after the unexpected " preaching" described in the last chapter, cousin Aleck announced his intention to make Seequo-yah a visit. My father and I offered to ac company him, and under the guidance of Kaneeka we trotted over to Scossit-equah's cabin, about four miles distant. This cabin, although well put together* and proof against wind and rain, was far from being a model of architectural beauty. It was a pen of poles, fifteen feet square, high as a man's head, chinked with clay, and surmounted by a roof of split boards. On drawing rein at its front, we saw the door closed, and a peeled sapling leaned against it. Kaneekalooked disappointed. " Scossit not here. Gone after deer, I s'pose/' he said. 40 SAL-O-QUAH; OR, BOY-LIFE "But what is the meaning of that skinned pole ? " cousin Aleck asked. "That Cherokee lock" Kaneeka answered. We afterward learned, during our intercourse with these simple-minded people, that a skinned sapling at the door was a perfect protection to the house and all its contents. No one except the nearest intimate, or a neighbor in dire neces sity, ever presumed to pass it. The penalty was loss of character, and to an Indian this was equivalent to loss of life. " Must go, now, to See-quo-yah. Not far," said Kaneeka. He led us by a blind path over the sharp spur of a hill, and in the course of a quarter of a mile we heard from behind a thick growth of grape-vines, the clink of a small hammer. " That See-quo-yah, now," Kaneeka said. " He work in silver. He make rings, he make spoons, he make anything of silver." " He is a silversmith, then ? " my father inter rogatively remarked. "Silversmith," returned Kaneeka, in an as senting tone. AMONG THE CHEROKEES. 4/ 0 Stop a moment, all of you," said my father. "I must think of some work to engage See- quo-yah, to do for me, as an excuse for coming. Johnnie," he added, "is your pony never in need of a spur ? " "Never," I replied; "but Lorenzo's some times is." "That is enough," he remarked, and we went on. . ' *. Reaching a spot where we could command a view beyond the grape-vines, we saw two men under a tree, one of whom we recognized as Scossit-equah. He came instantly to meet us, his face beaming with pleasure. On learning that we had stopped at his house on our way, he urgently insisted that we should return and complete our visit; but my father replied that he had a little job in silver-smithing which he would be glad to have See-quo-yah do for him, if not too busy. Scossit-equah's face bright ened, and he replied in an undertone through Kaneeka: " See-quo-yah don't love white people; but he love work. Come, he glad to see you." 48 SAL-O-QUAH; OR, BOY-LIFE With this intimation we approached, and saw a man of fifty-five or sixty years of age, sparely built, with thin face, and broad forehead, sitting beside a block, on which were a few tools, and a basket containing more. He was fashioning a thin strip of silver into ornaments for the arms and wrists. A word from Scpssity caused him to look up and give a grunt. That was our only welcome, for he at once resumed his work. Such a reception from a white man would have been accounted unpromising; indeed, it was not very * encouraging even from an Indian. "Tell him," said my father, through Kaneeka, " that I wish to have a pair of silver spurs made for my son. Ask what they will cost, and when I may expect to have them." A few words were interchanged in Cherokee, when Kaneeka turned and asked who was to furnish, the, material. My father put his hand jnto his pocket, drew forth several silver coins, and showed them in reply. See-quo-yah's face -' relaxed into a grim expression of approval, as he replied, through Kaneeka: "Can make that do; but I have better." AMONG THE CHEROKEES. 49 It was. soon and satisfactorily settled that a pair of boy's spurs should be made, also some silver trinkets for Kaneeka's children. Then the conversation turned to the subject of the alphabet. At cousin Aleck's suggestion, Kaneeka said to him: "The white men have heard that you are trying to make paper talk Cherokee/ They say this is good, and that they are glad to hear of it." See-quo-yah gave his visitors each a searching look, uttered a doubtful grunt, and resumed his work. "They say," added Kaneeka, "that they can make paper talk Cherokee now, and that they will be glad to help on your work." See-quo-yah looked incredulous. Kaneeka went on to say: " If See-quo-yah will tell me anything in my ear, I will go with one of them to yonder tree, and we will send it back to you on paper." See-quo-yah whispered a word in his ear. Ka neeka beckoned cousin Aleck to a neighboring tree, where the Cherokee words were written in VOL. in.--D 5O SATL-O-QUAH; OR, BOY-LIFE the Roman character, and the paper sent back by Scossit-equah. He brought it to my father, who read it as well as he could, yet imperfectly, for the reason that some of the sounds of Cherokee have no exact counterpart in the English. The message was: "See-quo-yah wants paper to talk Cherokee." That it could be understood, however, was plainly to be seen in the twinkle of the old man's eye. He took the paper, scrutinized its various parts, then returned it to my father with a message in Cherokee, which was written down, syllable by syllable, from his lips. " Paper don't talk plain. Marks too many." This message produced a laugh at the other tree, which convinced See-quo-yah that it had been understood. He was evidently much in terested in the experiment, but gave no token of this farther than to request that " the talking leaf" should be left with him. He did not invite us into his cabin, nor show us any of his attempts at writing, nor respond to any inquiries we made as to his plans or his progress. It was not long after this, however, before we heard that See-quo-yah had succeeded in his attempt; and a most wonderful work it was, both for its perfectness and its originality. The facts gathered at the time, and those ob tained long afterward, I throw together here, that the reader may have the history as a unit. See-quo-yah, better known by his English name of George Guess, was born about the year 1765, and was a half-grown boy at the begin ning of our colonial struggle with the mother country. How or where he became first ac quainted with the white man's wonderful art of talking on paper, authorities are not agreed. Some say it was in early life, some say in later manhood; but all agree that the art powerfully interested him, and for a time so perfectly ab sorbed his thoughts that many esteemed him crazy. Nobody was more troubled about it than his wife, who, seeing him neglect his hunting and fishing, and his corn and potato patches, and give himself up daily to making marks with an old nail upon pieces of bark, as if this was of more importance than providing food, could 5?-. SAL-O-QUAH; OR^ BOY-LIFE account for it only on the score of insanity, and who, as the best means' of curing him, burned up all his marks. This was a sore loss; but he rallied from it, and went to work more vigor ously than ever. He did not know a letter of any alphabet, nor a word of any language but his own; nor did he seek assistance from any person skilled in the white man's art. He had shrewdness enough to believe that the wonderful "talking leaf," which some ascribed to witchcraft, and which others held to be a gift of the Great Spirit, was nothing more than a human device by which, marks were substituted for sounds in expressing thought. Convinced more and more deeply of this fact,' he began to say that he thought "paper could be made to talk Cherokee," and he finally undertook the task. The only helps to his work were that, living not far from a mission school, he occasionally saw books in the hands of the children. He also managed at last to obtain an old spellingbook, which he freely used in furnishing him self with marks of different kinds, while his mode AMONG THE CHEROKEES. 53 of using them proved that he did not know the power of a single letter. It is said that his first attempt was to devise a sign or character for every word of his language; but after extending his hieroglyphics to many hundreds some say, to thousands he became convinced that the plan was too cumbrous, and gave it up. , After this it occurred to him that, although the words of his language were many, the syl lables were few, simple, terminating in vowels, and made to express different things by being used in different orders. This was his grand starting-point, and he pushed -on from it with rapidity and success. For instance, his own name, See-quo-yah, was made up of three sounds, each, of which-was often repeated in other Words. He therefore put down a mark for See, another for quo, and another for yah. In coming to the word See-quah, which means hog, he found that he already had in his own name a character for .See; it was the white man's P, turned bottom upward, and wrongside-before, almost a letter b. All he wanted, now, to spell his word, was a 54 SAL-O-QUAH; OR, BOY-LIFB mark for quak. To get this he took another letter from the white man's spelling-book. It was the letter H. But not knowing how to use it, he laid it over on its side, and so bX put to* gether spelled See-guah, the Cherokee for hog. Thus he went qn, inventing new marks for new syllables, or taking such as could be found in books without regard to their previous use, until he had obtained eighty-six> each of which stood for a syllable, and by means of which he could write every word in his language. For certain letters of our alphabet he has shown great partiality. For instance, the letter J is used five times, with its tail turned different ways, or tied into a loop, rightside-up, or upsidedown, each standing for a different syllable. But our letters and signs, even whe"n standing as we are accustomed to see them, have alto gether different powers in Cherokee; for in stance, D4Z DB spell the two words, " Ah-se-no ah-yuh," and mean, "But I" (say unto you, etc.), Matt. v. 22, etc. When See-quo-yah arrived at the stage of his invention in which the alphabet of syllables was AMONG THE CHEROKEES. $5 the plan proposed, he withdrew himself from everybody, and continued in close retirement untrl he was able to announce that now he "COULD make paper talk Cherokee" The rumor of this fact brought many people to him. In the mean time he had instructed cme of his daughters, so that when the people arrived, he and she, in different rooms, could, communicate by writing such short sentences as were dictated by those present. The people were deligftted. "See-quo-yah has made paper talk Cherokee," spread like wild fire over the Nation. Soon the chiefs made in quiry into the matter. On See-quo-yah's invi tation they brought their sons to be instructed, and were delighted to find that not only was the rumor true, but that the new method was so simple and so easily acquired that a bright boy, after three days' practice, could write a letter which could be read a thousand miles away. See-quo-yah had made the art of reading and writing so easy that the whole Nation was excited, and multitudes began to learn. This was in the years 1822 and 1823. Teachers of the new -56 SAL-O-QUAH; OR, BOY-LIFE alphabet went to Arkansas to instruct the Cherokees of the West, and soon letters in large* numbers were passing between friends who lived on different sides of the Father of Waters. In vain the missionaries who had preached and- taught among them strove to content the people with the ordinary Roman alphabet, by which they might read books in other languages besides their own. The white man's writing was too cumbrous and too difficult to learn. A week's practice with the new alphabet enabled .them to read ^and write Cherokee better than a year's with the old ; indeed, a few hours' practice would enable them to begin their reading. In the year 1826, application was made to the American Bible Society to print the New Testa ment in Guess' character. This was done. I have a copy of it now before me as I write; also a primer for beginners, with the alphabet and reading lessons. My young readers may be surprised to hear it, but a Cherokee school-book has no spelling lessons. None are needed, as with us. Every letter spells its' own syllable; and a Cherokee boy or girl, as soon as the alphabet AMONG THE CHEROKEES J*7 is learned, is able to read any book in his lan guage. As soon as the new font of type was cast for printing the Bible in Guess' character, a news paper was begun in the Nation, and was read with ease by multitudes who three years be fore were perfectly illiterate. Since that time the constitution and laws of the Nation have been printed in the same character. Were it possible for our language to be repre sented in the same way, the labor of learning to read and write would be reduced a hundred or a thousand-fold; but ours is not a syllabic lan guage, and cannot be made such. In the year T&zS, the United States Govern ment appropriated "five hundred dollars for the use of George Guess, for the great benefits he has conferred on the Cherokee people/in the bene ficial results they are now experiencing from the use of the alphabet discovered by him"* -- a small amount for a white man, but in those days a valuable one for a wild Indian. In the year 1829, See-quo-yah removed to * See treaty with the Cherokees in 1828. $8 SAL-O-QUAH. Arkansas, from which he afterward went still farther West; and in the year 1843, al>ed seventyeight, he died, and (so says a letter recently re ceived from an educated Cherokee in Arkansas) was buried in a romantic valley in New Mexico, but without any monument to mark his restingplace. Peace to his ashes! CHAPTER V. ADIEU TO SEE-QUO-YAH -- SCOSSITY'S WOLF-TRAP -- PEN FOR CROWS--TURKEY NOOSE -- SCOSSITY'S HOUSE AND HOSPITALITY -- SPUNK A GOOD STYP TIC FOR CUT-WOUNDS -- COUSIN ALECK READS FOR SCOSSIT-EQUAH. E did not keep See-quo-yah long from his silver-smithing. Much interested though we were in him, he did not seem to be so in us. Indeed, we could not but believe, from his undisguised restlessness, that he would be better satisfied if we should take ourselves away. My father and cousin left reluctantly, for they would have been glad to learn more from his own lips of his labors and plans, and to have lent a helping hand in his praiseworthy efforts. But See-quo-yah was strongly marked with two prominent traits of Indian character -- taciturnity, and a proud self- 28 59 60 SAL-O-QUAH; OR, BOY-LIFE reliance. Our parting was as unceremonious as our meeting; we wished him " Good day," inter preted for us by Kaneeka, to which the only response he returned was a grunt. In the act of leaving, .Scossity went to a closely shaded nook, and there uncovered the half of a slaughtered deer, nicely wrapped in its own skin. It had been killed that morning, and the other part given to See-quo-yah. The portion reserved for himself was thrown over his shoul der, and with easy pace he preceded us in the trail that led to his house. On our way we saw, what had been concealed by the bushes in our passing in the other direc tion, a singular-looking pen, not far from our path, which, we were informed, was Scossity's wolf-trap. It was closely floored with poles, and the sides shortened toward the top, so as to leave an entrance scarcely a foot square. This en trance it was usual to leave wide open until the wolf had entered and taken the bait often enough to feel secure, when it was made so narrow and so high that there could be no leaping out, and no climbing against the inclined wall. AMONG THE CHEROKEES. 61 A trap for crows, Kaneeka -informed us, was constructed on the same plan, only of smaller "dimensions, and more closely built. After being several times well baited with .corn, the entrance would be so narrowed that, although the crows could easily drop in, they could not pass out on outspread wing. We were much amused with these instances of ingenuity. " Have you no traps for dear and turkeys ? " cousin Aleck asked. ".Oh, yes, for all," Kaneeka answered; and then he went on to describe a simple noose for turkeys, set between rows of corn, where these birds come to depredate upon the peas. The turkey, mistaking the noose for a pea-vine, inserts its Jiead and neck into the fatal circle, and is soon .choked to death by its violent efforts to escape. He commenced to describe also pen of poles, in which sometimes the greater part of a flock of wild turkeys would be caught; but before the description was half given we arrived at Scossity's house. Then the peeled sapling was removed from the door, and we were all invited to, enter. "No 62 SAL-O-QUAH; OR, BOY-LIFE chairs, tables, or other articles of furniture were to be seen nothing except a narrow bed in one corner, raised about knee-high from the dirt floor by a single post driven into the ground, on which rested a side and foot pole, each having its other end supported by being stuck in a crevice -in the wall. The sides of this bed were boarded up, and the space beneath served evi dently for a chest or place of safety for stores. In the middle of the room was a small heap of ashes surrounded by stones, showing that the fireplace was there, while the blackened roof overhead gave tokens of the smoke that had often and long rolled up from below. Under this roof hung several hams of dried venison, and many ears of corn in the shuck, tied to the rafters. We were invited to seats made of deer skin, spread upon the floor next the wall. " Come, eat," said Scossity, reaching down a dried ham from above, and bringing out a cleanlooking calabash of parched corn and peas from the space beneath his bed. We knew enough of Indian manners not to decline the offer, and indeed there was no need \- AMONG THE CHEROKEES. 63 to refuse, except from the want of appetite. Each of us took a handful of the parched corn, and cut a small slice of the dried venison, and seemed greatly to enjoy it. We could see from Scossity's eye that he was pleased, for nothing gratifies an Indian more than to appreciate his hospitality. I confess that my own share was %so much relished that I was tempted to take another slice, in doing which, however, my knife slipped and cut a gash in my hand. Scossity, seeing the blood flow profusely, took from his pouch a piece of spunk, such as he used for tinder, cut from it a thin slip, laid it upon the wound, and bound it there with, a strip of fibrous hemplike bark. The bleeding soon stopped, so that I was able to go on with my eating, and the surgery was so effectual that my little wound needed no more attention until it healed. I may as well state here as a useful fact, that the spunk (which is a fungous growth in the crevices of trees, sometimes in thin sheets like paper or kidskin, sometimes in thick knots like a man's fist) is an excellent styptic in cases of cut-wounds: it not only stops" the flow of blood, but adheres 64 SAL-O-QUAH; OR, BOY-LIFE to the lips of tHe wound, helping to keep them together, and to assist nature in the effort to heal by what is known as " first intention/' We enjoyed the hearty hospitality of this simple child of the forest, and he seemed equally to value our presence; but as the parties knew only a few words of the other's language, it was not possible to exchange many thoughts except through an interpreter. Of all the incidents of the occasion I can never forget the flash of Scossity's eye when, after a little scattering con versation, he saw my father take from his pocket the little Testament used in the service the day before, and the earnest attention which he gave to the interpreted words of the chapter read to him by cousin Aleck. No field parched with drought ever drank in more eagerly the drops of a refreshing shower than his mind drank in the precious words of Scripture. Of all that was said by him on the occasion, I recollect that the ruling desire expressed was that his friend, See-quo-yah, might hear the gospel from some one able to make it plain and attractive to him. This made me think of the. AMONG THE CHEROKEES. 65 X apostle Andrew, of whom it is said (John i. 41) that he "first findeth his own brother Simon, and saith unto him,* we have found the Messias." I have noticed ever since that those who become sincere and earnest Christians are apt to show it by trying; to have all whom they-love brought to experience the same blessing. In the case of See-quo-yah, however, there is reason to believe this desire was never realized. He soon left the neighborhood and went back to Wills Valley; a few years afterward he removed to Arkansas ; after that he moved farther West, wishing by each remove to get away farther from the white man and his religion. He was always a moral man, but it is said that he never became a Christian by profession, and never ceased to express dis like for the change which had come over the religion of his people. Before we mounted our horses,-Kaneeka and Scossit-equah walked aside and had an earnest conversation in a low tone. On our way, Ka neeka looked very grave. He had apparently received some painful news. My father, at last, took the liberty of inquiring whether his trouble VOL. III.--E 66 SAL-O-QUAH. was of such kind as might be helped by any thing we could do. " Don't know. But I tell you," he answered, and then went on to give, in brief, the following singular account, to which I have added manj details that were subsequently gathered. CHAPTER VI. KANEEKA TELLS A REMARKABLE STORY -- INDIAN TRIAL FOR MANSLAUGHTER---RESEMBLANCE OF CHEROKEE USAGE TO THAT OF THE ANCIENT HEBREWS -- EFFORTS TO SAVE THE LIFE OF THE CONDEMNED MAN--DAY OF EXECUTION--SO-TIH, AND WHAT BECAME OF HIM. URING the past week, a young Indian of fine .character, the only son of his mother, had met with a great misfor tune. While watching for deer at a hidden stand, he heard at a distance the bleat of a doe; then not far from him the rustle of leaves, which was soon after followed by the appear*ance of a brown skin and branching antlers. Without waiting to see more, he levelled and fired. But on rushing forward with his knife, what was his horror to see, underlying the body, 67 68 SAL-O-QUAH; OR, BOY-LIFE the rifle and hands of a- man! Some still hunter had adopted the oft-practised but dangerous de vice of wrapping himself in the hide of a buck, and had thus paid the penalty of his rashness.* So-tih, for that was the young man's name, did not stop to make any further examination. He only called aloud to know if the person were alive and needed help, but receiving no answer, and seeing the blood flowing from a bullet-hole that must have been near the heart, he left the body just as it was, went with all speed to Sawnee, the nearest chief, to whom he surrendered . himself, and told the tale of his misfortune. The usages of the Cherokees at the time, in * An accident, almost identical with this, happened within five miles of the spot where the writer now sits. In the year 1835, a white man, hunting contrary to law on Indian ground, saw, in the bushes near him, the brown side and branching horns of a deer. He fired, and the next moment saw, struggling in the air above the body, the moccasined feet of an Indian. He waited to see no more, but, confident that his own death would immediately follow a discovery of the accident, he hur ried to the house of a neighboring white man, told him of the misfortune, begged him to see after the unfortunate Indian, then made all haste across the river. He never afterward dared to show himself in the Indian country. AMONG THE CHEROKEES. 69 cases of involuntary manslaughter, strongly re sembled those of the ancient Israelites, both in the sacredness attached to life, and in the mode by which homicide was to be avenged. Such was their horror of taking human life, except in the way of justice, or in the act of war, that a degree of criminality was imputed to it even when it happened by accident. Saw-nee, as bound by the customs of his peo ple, although a personal friend of the young man and his mother, and believing him innocent of " malice aforethought," put him ufjder guard to await his trial, but in the mean time despatched him with his guard to show the place of the body, in order that the relatives, whoever they were, might give it a decent burial, and take such other steps as were necessary. So-tin's friends were pained to discover that the slain man belonged to a family with whom he was at feud--a feud so old and deadly that no settlement but a bloody one could be reason ably anticipated. Fifty years before, So-tih's grandfather had accidentally killed the grand father of the deceased man in the same way. jro SAL-O-QUAH; OR, BOY-LIFE Thirty years afterward, So-tih's father fell a victim to the family quarrel that arose. More than one on both sides had come to violent [death in consequence, so that each of the two families had now but one male representative-- So-tih in the one, and Tunk-sa-le-ne, brother of the dead man, in the other. When So-tih's friends discovered this, they were much disturbed, not only because they were sorry to embitter the family quarrel, but on account of an old usage which decided that although one death by accident might be for given, two accidents of the kind between the same parties were to be regarded as equivalent to intentional manslaughter. They therefore urged So-tih to flee the country, offering to bribe his guard and set him free. "Go to the far sunsetting; go to the Choctaws; go to the Catawbas; go anywhere; but do not stay here to die," they said. So-tih was in a great strait. He dearly loved ,his people and his home. He was the only ^support of his now aged mother. More than that, he expected at the time of the next green- AMONG THE-CHEROKEES. fl corn dance, only one moon off, to take to his home a beautiful bride, the girl he had loved from her childhood. Life was very sweet -- sweeter to him than ever before; but So-tih was too much of a man to fly either from his enemy or from the law of his people. " No" said he, peremptorily, to his advisers. "So-tih live here, If people say, Live; So-tih die here, if people say, Die." Without delay the relatives of the dead man were informed of his fate, and the body placed at their disposal. As was to be expected, they were dreadfully enraged, and swore vengeance against So-tih, whom they accused of intentional "and cowardly murder. The trial was held the next day, for, according to the simple customs of the time, all such acts were marked with great promptness. Many a time has a manslayer committed his crime, been tried, and executed between the rising and the setting of the same sun.* It was, no doubt, due * This was true of the Creeks, as well as of the Cherokees, ft memorable instance of which occurred in the year 1817, at Fort Hawkins, about a mile east of the present city of Macon. 72 SAL-O-QUAH; OR, BOY-LIFE in part to the awful promptitude of justice that so few wilful murders were committed among' themselves. All the chiefs within easy reach of the neigh boring council-house were summoned to attend. Before them stood So-tih, surrounded by his guard, and Tunk-sa-le-ne with a great club, at tended by his kinsmen, all avengers of blood. The case was quickly disposed of. There were no witnesses except those whom So-tih had piloted to the scene of the accident. There was no testimony except what So-tih himself gave in his brief narrative of the case. There was nothing to postpone the decision of the judges except the artless appeal made by' one of his friends, based upon his well-known excellence and nobleness of character. The judges decided, not that So-tih intended to kill his enemy, but that the hand of his family had now the second While the principal chiefs of the Creek Nation were assembled there on business with the U. S. Agent, one of them became drunk, and killed his own nephew. His case was instantly tried, and, though he was the second chief in rank, (General Mclntosh being first,) he was executed -within an hour after committing the act. AMONG THE CHEROKEES. 73 time, within the memory of the judges, been against the life of one of the other family, and therefore, .by the usages of the land, he was to be delivered into the hands of the slain man's friends. This sentence, received with Tow murmurs of dissatisfaction from many of the people, was no sooner pronounced than the avengers of blood prepared to execute it. Tunk-sa-le-ne brand ished his terrible war-club, and, accompanied by his friends, went toward the spot where the in tended victim stood. So-tih never moved, nor changed color. He waved back his executioners by a motion of his hand, and said calmly to the judges: " So-tih not ready to die to-day. Count him six days to be free, and he will come here at high sun, ready for the club." In a white man's court such a proposition would have been laughed to scorn; but not so in an Indian's of that day. The white man might be expected to burst through every bond to save his life; but if an Indian of character once gave his word, he was as sure to keep it as the day 74 SAL-O-QUAH; OR, BOY-LIFE was to come round: otherwise followed a penalty worse than death -- the contempt of his people. Tunk-sa-le-ne and his friends looked disap pointed. They expected instant revenge. But the decision of the judges was .* " Loose him! Hear, everybody! Young man^ not ready to die. Count six sleeps; then meet him here at high sun." . Three " sleeps " had already passed when Kaneeka gave us this account. The people, with out a word to say against the uprightness of their chiefs, or the sacredness of ancient law, were becoming much excited at the prospect of allowing a young man, highly esteemed for his many excellences, to be sacrificed, even in obedience to ancient usage, for the sake of a worthless family, such as the Tunk-sa-le-ne tribe had ever been. But what to do ? was the ques tion. ." Is there no higher court to which you may appeal ? " asked cousin Aleck. Kaneeka answered, " None." "What does Tunk-sa-le-ne love most?" my father inquired. AMONG THE CHEROKEES. 75 To which Kaneeka oddly replied : " Hate, whisky, and money." "Which of these does he love most?" my father again asked. Kaneeka answered: " Hate^ much; whisky, more; money, most." "Then" said my father, "perhaps we can buy him off." " Yes, yes," Kaneeka answered, " if money 'nough." On consultation, it was supposed that one hundred dollars might suffice to save the life of this young man, in whom my father and cousin began to feel as lively an interest as the people themselves. But one' hundred dollars was a large sum to be raised in so poor a neighbor hood. Kaneeka offered to give ten of it. He was sure Sawnee would give a pony, equal to ten more. Others would give also, but, all told, the- prospective amount was only the half of what was needed. After a little thought, my father spoke again. " Kaneeka," said he, " there are some things of which we white people know more than you, our 29 76 SAL-O-QUAH; OR, BOY-LIFE red brothers, and I think this is one of them. Let me advise you what to do. We will first o and see Sawnee. If he agrees with you that Tunk-sa-le-ne may be bought off from his pur pose, I will have more to say." They went off that same afternoon ; and Kaneeka did not return until the day appointed for the execution. My father reported to us the next evening that his own part of the mission had been successful. He had seen Sawnee, who, being an Indian of the old school, had never thought of trying to have his young friend re leased. Painful as it was, his mind had been fixed upon the enforcement of law, without re gard to feeling. But the moment the plan was proposed of trying secretly to buy off the "bloodavenger," his eye flashed with delight, and he exclaimed: " Tunk-sa-le-ne love blood, but he love money more." He not only gave a pony, as Kaneeka xpecteo1, but volunteered to go and see some of the other chiefs, and engage them to prepare Tunk-sa-le-ne's mind for doing what the people so generally thought was right in the case. .. AMONG THE CHEROKEES. fj When the terrible day came, Lorenzo and I went too to the council-ground, not for the pur pose of witnessing the horrid scene of execution -- for my father said he thought the act was not possible, and even should it happen^he would see that we boys were not spectators -- but in order to witness'the honorable act of a man delivering himself to die in redemption of his plighted word. The crowd assembled was the largest ever known at the ground. It was strongly agi tated, too, for people must not suppose that In dians are without feeling. Cold as frozen rock they may appear outwardly, while a volcano of fire is burning within. Those present,,accus tomed to watch the fleeting indications of eye and lip, reported a state of feeling unusually deep. When eleven o'clock passed, those of us who had watches might be seen closely observing their hands, while the eye of many an Indian was turned as observingly to the sun or the sha dows. Neither the victim nor the avenger had yet appeared. As the minutes passed, various surmises were expressed,-- by some that the parties had somehow met, and there had been 78 SAL-O-QUAH; OR, BOY-LIFE another fearful tragedy -- by others, that So-tih had attempted to escape, and that Tunk-sa-le-ne was in pursuit; but these surmises were indulged only by the more impatient. The greater part of the multitude were as quiet and passive as though there were no unusual event 'expected. The friends and members of the averiging'party were heard occasionally to say, with grinding teeth: " Knew he would not come. So-tih a woman. So-tih afraid to die." A few minutes before "high sun," however, the hearts of all were moved by a piercing sound from the adjacent woods. It was the wail of women. So-tih's mother, sisters, and bride had bidden him farewell. But scarcely had it been heard before it was drowned by a manly voice singing a loud and plaintive song; and then there appeared the figure of a handsomely dressed hunter, walking with firm and rapid steps toward the council-house. On approach ing the door where the judges sat, the song ceased: the man stood before them, saying, " I come!" then folded his arms in silence. AMONG THE CHEROKEES. 79 The people gathered close around him, as if anxious to breathe the air and drink irr the .spirit' of one having so much the aspect of a hero, and a soft buzz of applause pervaded the crowd. The judges sat upon a log before the door. A few white people and some of the dignitaries of the land stood behind them. Immediately in front was So-tih. But where- was Tunk-sale-ne with his fatal club ? When the sun threw its shadows due north, Saw-nee, the senior chief, waved his hand for silence. " Here is So-tih," said he, with a look of pride. " We are glad to see him. He has kept his word like a warrior and a warrior's son." He paused, then added: ." Tunk-sa-le-ne is not here." As he spoke, a man stood forward in the crowd, respectfully waiting until the judge had 4 uttered what he had to say, but giving signs of a wish to speak. Saw-nee paused on seeing him, and said: " Speak on, brother." "Tunk-sa-le-ne sends word," said the man, 8o SAL-O-QUAH; OR, BOY-LIFE " that the voice of the people shall rule who say that So-tih ought not to die for what he has done. Let So-tih live, but let him never cross Tunk-sa-le-ne's path." A murmur of joy ran through the.assembly. I observed So-tih's eye and face quicken with a degree of satisfaction, which, however, almost as quickly disappeared. "Must not cross Tunk-sa-le-ne's pathj" he repeated, scornfully. "Is So-tih to turn foxt and hide in a hole ? " Tunk-sa-le-ne's representative said: " Let him leave the country." "I love my people," replied So-tih. "To give them up is to die. I can but die if I stay. I am ready to die now." Some one suggested that after the breaking up of the next frost, Tunk-sa-le-ne expected to remove to the Nation west, and that So-tih's withdrawal would be only temporary. Kaneeka also went to him, pointed to my father, and said: " Go with him. He take you." " To be white man's slave ? " he quickly asked. "No, never." AMONG THE CHEROKEES. 81 "To be white man's friend" Kaneeka an swered aloud--then whispered a word or two in his ear, which made So-tih's face shine with pleasure, and his eye turn gratefully toward my father, as he replied: "Yes, I go." Kaneeka had told him of the part my father had acted in his deliverance. The matter was soon arranged. So-tih con sented, from love to his people, and a desire for peace, *to withdraw from the Nation until Tunksa-le-ne was out of the way. His mother and sisters were then called from the woods and informed of the change; and Kaneeka and Scossity pledged themselves to So-tih to fill his place to them while he was absent. Another duty yet remained. A beautiful young woman of eighteen or twenty summers came with the mother and sisters. She was instructed to stand before the judges, face to face with So-tih, in an open space left by the crowd. She and So-tih slowly approached each other. He gave her something, (I could hot see what,) and she gave him something. When VOL. in.--P 82 SAL-0-QUAH J OR, BOY-LIFE standing side by side, he drew off his orna mented hunting - shirt or tunic, and threw it around the shoulders of both, and the people with a shout of joy acknowledged her as his wife. This was not the ordinary ceremony, only in approach to it on the spur of the occasion. That evening, So-tih and his bride crossed the river, and came finally to my father's, where he more than earned his livelihood by supplying my mother's table with venison and fish. So-tih returned home before the winter was over. Tunk-sa-le-ne never removed West. In midwinter he was found dead in a brush-wood, never having drawn a sober breath from the day that he was seen to receive two small, but heavylooking bags. So-tih and his wife did not cease their visits to us with the necessity which first brought them. -They never forgot that act of friendly intervention which so unexpectedly gave him back to life, and gave them to each other. A neat little pole-house, built in a retired grove on my father's place, near the river, was always kept for them, and called So-tih's house. Every 83 year, they were sure to make us a visit, with their youngest child, and to stay one or two weeks, hunting and fishing, -as at first. I recol lect that in the last visit they made, and the last time I saw them there, they were as happy-look ing as ever. They were by the riverside with their youngest boy, Jau-nee Stee-ka, (or Little John,) gathering a boat-load of wood for a barbecue the next day. Before the hour came on, however, Lorenzo and I Were called suddenly from home, and did not return until after they had left. The next we heard, they had removed to the far West, where they lived long in happi ness and increasing honor, and, for aught known to the contrary, may be living yet. CHAPTER VII. FISHING EXCURSION ^-THE FISH-SPEAR -- FLY FISHING. HE morning after the exciting scene recorded in the preceding chapter, cousin Aleck proposed a fishing ex cursion. We had so often heard of the abund ance of fine trout in a neighboring stream that we longed for an opportunity to try them. My father had gone with Kaneeka to make certain promised arrangements for So-tih's mother, or, no doubt, he too would have been one of the party; but we had nothing else to do, and there fore concluded to go, and at least explore the ground. " Shall we try with flies or with minnows ? " I inquired of cousin Aleck. "With flies, of course," he answered, "unless we ascertain that the fish refuse them." 84 SAL-O-QUAH. 85 In mentioning the word "flies," I observed Saloquah's face assume a look of inquiry, fol lowed by a half-mischievous smile, but, Indianlike, he said nothing. We brought out our dis jointed rods from the cases in which they were kept,.put the parts together, to see if they were ready for use, and then selected such lines and hooks as we deemed suitable. The moment Saloquah saw our delicately tapering rods, and web-like lines, he shook his head, saying: " These never do for our fish." " Why not ?" cousin Aleck asked. " Line too small; pole too small/' he answered. " Fish break them." " Perhaps not," cousin Aleck returned, with a smile. *' / want some fish. I go fetch my catcher," said Saloquah, looking incredulously at our tackle, and going, as he spoke, toward the rear of the house, whence he quickly returned with a small light spear, eight feet long, straight as an arrow, with a point of steel. " This will catch and hold too," he said. It was a neatly made instrument, and un- 86 SAL-O-QUAH; OR, BOY-LIFE questionably capable of great execution, but to be of any avail it manifestly required a skilful hand and practised eye. We examined it with admiration, poised it, tried it at a safe mark, then gave it back to him, and gathering up our own implements, we went, under his guidance, to the fishing-ground, a mile distant. The scenery of the place was beautiful. Tall hills, with steep sides, in some places rocky and precipitous, flanked a narrow valley, crowded with kalmias,.rhododendrons, and azaleas, some of which were yet in bloom, while through them gambolled a playful stream, clear as crystal, vary ing in width from thirty to three times thirty feet, now flowing soberly through some wide basin, now prancing wildly over a rough and rocky bed, and then occasionally throwing a summerset over a sheer descent of several feet. Its fall, during the mile through which we fol lowed it, could not have been less than a hun dred feet, and cousin Aleck, looking with the eye of a utilitarian upon its rapid flow and con venient location, exclaimed: "The time will come in which the water- AMONG THE CHEROKEES. 8/ power of this stream will be made to do the work of a hundred thousand men!" * Our first care, on arriving, was to select such pools and eddies as seemed to be haunts for the fish, and on the adjoining banks to clear away the bushes and branches that threatened to inter fere with the wielding of our flies.- An hour's time sufficed for this, and also to allow the scared fish to recover from - their disturbance; after which we made ready for sport. Saloquah, meanwhile, watched our movements with lpoks of decided unbelief. He still said nothing, but when he at last saw that our lines were little more than hairs in thickness, and that the bait which we were preparing to use was composed principally of dry feathers and hair, which could not reasonably be expected to tempt the appetite of any living fish, his sides fairly shook with laughter, and the tears ran down his cheeks. His merriment was contagious, and we enjoyed it exceedingly, knowing, or rather be lieving, that the laugh would soon be on our side. * This prediction has been partly realized already in the Roswell Factory. . 88 SAJ>O-QUAH J OR, BOY-LIFfe The so-called fly selected for us by cousin Aleck out of the variety brought, closely re sembled in shape and color those which at that season were to be seen flying over the water and occasionally falling in. Lorenzo and I took the places assigned us, threw our flies lightly upon the water, with rods fourteen feet long, and with lines as long as our rods, and drew them with a quivering motion along the surface, to imitate the struggles of a real fly. Neither he nor I continued our fly-fishing many minutes, for we were not practised in the art, and it was not long before I entangled my line in the branches of a tree, and gave up in despair. Saloquah laughed and said: "I thought so." Cousin Aleck, however, still plied his fly. He was an expert angler, and knew how to guard against dangers. He gave his line a whirl o,r two around the taper end of his rod, and sent the fly sailing out into the basin, where it alighted softly, and began trembling and flutter ing, as if trying to escape. This he repeated, time and again, without success, though we saw AMONG THE CHEROKEES. 89 the trout rise and break water more than once, in the immediate neighborhood of his hook. " I am afraid," said he, at last, " that either we have not selected the right fly for the season, or that these fish are not civilized enough to take it like our fish in the old country." As he said this, Saloquah grasped his fishspear and said: ".I go try my way." Scarcely had he spoken, however, and begun to move, when cousin Aleck's fly disappeared, and his line moved rapidly under water. A slight jerk, at the right time, fastened the hook in the fish's mouth; and now came the struggle between strength and skill. The fish pulled so hard that the "rod bent, and the delicate line looked as if it must give way under the increas ing strain. But the rod was in a master-hand, which regulated every movement, and kept the line so taut by the reel attached, that the fish .was in a constant struggle, and after diving to various depths, and floundering until its strength was exhausted, it was gradually drawn shore ward, and landed where it could be lifted by hand without straining either rod or line. 9O SAL-0-QUAH j OR, BOY-LIFE " That is a bouncer!" Lorenzo and I ex claimed, for the fish was more than half as long as a man's arm, and weighed at least five pounds. "What do you say now?" cousin Aleck asked of Saloquah, who had watched the con test with great interest. " I say that little line and dry bait can catch big fish," he answered. " I will try them at another place," said cousin Aleck. " But I think that after having seen our mode of fishing, you are bound, Saloquah, to show us yours." "'Will show you, if I can," he answered. " But could do better if I had canoe." He went softly along the bank, peering stealthily into every nook and corner where it was probable that fish would lie. It was long before he made any attempt to throw his spear. He saw fish in abundance, he said, but they were too shy, or too deep. At last, quick as a flash, the spear flew from his hand, aimed at a point ten feet distant, and without waiting to see whether or not the blow had been successful, he plunged after it. The fish struck was evidently AMONG THE CHEROKEES. 9! a strong one, but its wound was mortal, and it soon rose to the surface, buoyed up by the light staff. ' "Hurra for Cherokee!" Lorenzo and I ex claimed, as Saloquah shoved before him, still hanging to the spear-head, a fish scarcely less in size than the one just caught. " Spear 'most beat hook!" said cousin Aleck, uttering very sincerely the boast that he knew was in the mind of our young friend, and ex pressing himself in the half-broken English which he generally used. This success encouraged Lorenzo and myself to renew our efforts. We changed our hooks, baited with worms, and tried for perch and bream, of which we saw great numbers, but caught only a few, for the water was too clear for anything but trout. Of these, the spear and the fly each brought ashore another of good size, and then cousin Aleck insisted that we should cease, for he said that these were as many as were at present needed for food, and that we had no right to take the life of God's creatures merely for sport. 30 CHAPTER VIII. FISHING WITH "LIVE BAIT"--THE " FISH - HUNT " AND "BUSH-DRAG".-- POISONING AND MUDDY ING THE WATER --THE SCOOP-NET. UR fishing, however, did not end with that day's pastime. When my father returned to dinner, and saw the fine fish we had taken, his own enthusiasm was enkindled. He resolved to have his time the next day,; and Kaneeka, willing to furnish a sample of the Indian mode, resolved to have his part of the sport on a large scale. He therefore despatched Saloquah to invite Scossit-equah and other neighbors to join him in a " fish-hunt" the next morning, and in the mean time went to the intended place for the purpose of making ready. The sun had scarcely risen- before we angfers had breakfasted and made our start; for in all - 92 SAL-O-QUAH. 93 streams, beyond the influence of tide-water, the early morning or late evening hours are best for rod-and-line fishing. Kaneeka waited at home for his expected company, saying that, when Indians go a-fishing, they never ask how high the sun is. The day was exactly such as fishermen love-- warm, without being hot. Light clouds hung in the sky, tempering the otherwise unpleasant glare. A gentle hreeze also gave a slight ripple to the water, and came from the right quarter of the compass, for, as old fishermen say -- "Wind from the West, fish bite best."* Lorenzo and I, discouraged by our experience in fly-fishing the day before, resolved to depend this time upon what is called " live bait," that is, minnows; and Saloquah went to show us a place where they could be caught. With a dozen or so of these in a bucket of water kept * The rest of this rhyming rule is -- "Wind from the East, fish bite least; Wind from the South, bait in fish's mouth." For Wind from the North " there is no rule. 94 SAL-O-QUAH; OR, BOY-LIFE always fresh, we returned to the trout stream. Selecting a stand where we could keep perfectly concealed, we softly approached the bank and dropped in our lines, baited each with a lively minnow, hooked through the back, and kept by a cork near the surface. We had scarcely been in position ten minutes before Lorenzo's cork was suddenly carried under the water, and his line almost fizzed with its rapidity of motion. " Let him run, Lorenzo!" I exclaimed. " Give him plenty of time to swallow the bait. He '11 not let go, unless you scare him." It was fully half a minute before he gave his rod the fatal jerk, but the moment he did so there was a struggle. A large trout had swal lowed the bait. The hook was sticking far down its throat, and there was no possibility of its escape, except by breaking the line. For a time the contest was exciting, for Lorenzo, having no reel, was compelled to depend or| the elas ticity of his rod, which at times was bent almost double. By proper playing, however, the strength of the fish was exhausted, and it was drawn around to a convenient landing. AMONG THE CHEROKEES. Q$ Shortly afterward, my own cork and line fol lowed the lead of Lorenzo's, and I, too, was favored with a fish. By the time our bait was consumed, we could count about half as many trout as we had had minnows. Our seniors, meanwhile, had been equally busy and successful with the fly. When Kaneeka and his company arrived about eight o'clock, we could show a dozen large trout, and as many small ones, the fruit of our morning's work. On the coming of our red friends, we con tinued only long enough to show them, at Kaneeka's request, our mode; we then put up our trappings, and followed to see theirs. First of all, they provided a straight grapelrf|i^l0ii^ enough to reach across the creek. Tothis jthey fastened thickly-leaved branches^ head downward, so closely set that scarcely a minnow could pass through. This " bush-drag," as it was called, was used as a seine, and pulled down stream by two men at each end, while two followed behind to aid, in case of obstructions, and two more on each wing scared the fish from the banks, and stood ready to spear those which 96 SAL-O-QUAH; OR, BOY-LIFE attempted to pass. Driving the fish thus before them, they at last came to a shoally place, where was a wall of loose stones piled so as to compel the fish into a little nook. Here the drag was stretched and staked, its leafy wall preventing all egre.ss. And now commenced the sport. The nook was perfectly alive with fish of all sorts and sizes, and turtles too; while in the hand of every man and boy was to be seen a spear, six, eight, or ten feet long, poised hori zontally, and darted quickly, and with almost unerring precision, at fish fifteen or twenty feet away. In a short time all the fish worth taking were speared and deposited in bags brought for the purpose, when the " fish-hunters " proceeded to drag toward another shoal still farther below. The spoils thus taken were at last fairly divided, according to established rule, and furnished a comfortable shoulder-load to each of the party. We of the hook and line were compelled to acknowledge that we were fairly beaten by them of the " drag." The quantity taken was so much more than the families represented could prob ably consume fresh, that my father inquired :f AMONG THE CHEROKEES. g/ what was their mode of curing. To his sur prise, he learned they had none, but that they proceeded at once to roast, broil, or barbecue, for eating, as soon as possible. He then de scribed to them the mode pursued by fishermen on the seaboard, by splitting down the back, removing'the entrails and backbones,.and, if the fish was large, slicing the flesh into layers, then drying quickly with a little salt and much smoke. This was a piece of information which they seemed much pleased to learn, and some of them expressed the intention to act upon it as soon as they reached home. On our way home, cousin Aleck inquired of Kaneeka the different plans for taking fish pursued by his people, and was informed that, be sides the "bush-drag," the mode furnishing the largest results was by poisoning the water. A sufficient number of persons would assemble at a stream, each furnished with a spear, and with a basketful of pounded root of the buckeye.* Wading into the water, they would churn it with * This is a dwarf forest-tree, resembling the horse-chestnut, producing large beautiful nuts of chestnut shape, and rich VOL. m.--o 98 SAl-O-QUAH. their baskets until the fish, intoxicated with the juice of the buckeye, rose to the surface, when they were easily taken by hand, net, or spear. A poisoned stream would often be followed for miles, the baskets being occasionally dipped into the water to keep up the poisoning. Another mode was by muddying. For this purpose a lagoon is usually selected, its ends closed against egress, and the bottom so dis turbed by trampling and dragging that the fish cannot breathe, but must rise to the surface for air, when they are speared. The mode most in favor with the women,' he informed us, was by means of a spoon-shaped, or bag-shaped net, attached to a long handle. Several would take their places in a narrow sluice of water down which the fish descended, or were driven by persons above, and dip for them as they pass. Sometimes a hundred dips would be made without taking a single fish, though at other times the success would be encouraging. Every fish caught was. signalized by a whoop of joy. mahogany color, two or three being enveloped .in a thomless ise, *^he nut is poisonous, as well as the root. CHAPTER IX. MOONLIGHT AND MUSIC -- UNEXPECTED RESULTS -- PANTHERS. UR fishing, that day, was followed by an evening of delicious moonlight Not that it was so brilliant, for I have often seen brighter, but so soft, and sweet, and soothing. The moon, scarcely half full, hung like a silver lamp from a crystal roof, and looked down so lovingly upon the reposing earth that it made me feel poetical. Moonlight and music are noted companions all the world over. Lorenzo and I took our flutes T--for we had had some instruction, and often practised together -- and seated ourselves on a log within easy hail of the tent door, where my father and cousin Aleck sat, discussing a subject of exciting interest. Their, topic was the 99 IOC SAL-O-QUAH J OR,' BOY-LIFE war in Greece, which had formally begun the January preceding, and which was to be marked, the following year, by the fall of Ma*co Bozzaris, a name known to every school-boy as the " Leonidas of Modern Greece." One of the fishermen that day had brought my father a newspaper, sent by Mr. Scupper, of Vann's Ferry, the nearest post-office. The paper was dated Saturday, June I5th, 1822, and was just a week old on the day we received it. The chief article of intelligence it contained was the massacre of the Greeks in the island of Scio, April II th, 1822, when, out of 100,000 men, women, and children, only 10,000 were reported to have escaped the Turkish sword. The news .saddened us. We did not recover from it all day. And it was as a sort of refuge from thought that Lorenzo and I, after supper, took our flute,s and went, as has been said, to enjoy a little music in the moonlight. The airs we selected were mostly plaintive, and we must have executed them with more than usual pathos, for my father and cousin slackened their discus sion to listen to us. Saloquah, too, came with AMONG THE CHEROKEES. IOI noiseless tread, stealing from a covert of bushes, and we could see Kaneeka, with his wife, and their little boy, sitting in their doorway, and seeming to drink in the softened harmonies floating to them on the evening breeze. " This was probably the first time that the notes of the flute had ever been heard in that solitude ; and whether it were that we boys were so far inspired as to rival the powers of Orpheus, or whether by a singular conjuncture of circum stances, the results were laughable. The first response we had, besides tokens of pleasure in our human friends, was from a company of frogs in the neighboring low ground. They had com menced their concert before us, in every variety of note, of tenor, treble, and alto, but, while we played, their efforts were redoubled, as if they were resolved not to be outdone; and finally they were helped out by the heavy bass of a bullfrog, whose " Bloody-noun -- bloody-noun!" was uttered in a tone so deeply guttural, and at the same time according so perfectly with our low flute-notes, as almost to convert the whole into burlesque. LIBRARIES IO2 SAL-O-QUAH; OR, BOY-LIFE Scarcely had the remark been made, in an in terval of the music, " Hear that fellow's bass!" iwhen a whip-poor-will, that had been very earnestly uttering at -a distance his melancholy strain, perched himself lengthwise along a branch directly over our heads, and there repeated his notes as fast as he could tumble them out. Lorenzo and I laughed. But soon the whippoor-will's song was cut short by another voice, far more imperative, if not so musical. It was the " Oo-oo-ah-oo-ah!" of a hooting owl, seated solemnly on the top of a dead tree, within bis cuit-throw, and staring at us with his big, impu dent eyes. "Boys, you must stop that music, or you will draw the whole woods upon us," said my father, in a merry tone. " Yes, sir; only one piece more," we replied. ,^ We had just played the air, "Oh, dear! what can the matter be ? " and had given to it a lively, rattling expression. We felt ourselves bound, therefore, by the rules of public playing, to foliow it with something plaintive. We selected " Robin Adair," and played it with all the dole- AMONG THE CHEROKEES. 103 fulness possible; at least we played as much of it as we could, for we were interrupted. In the midst of the mostilugubrious strain, there came from a neighboring thicket the wail of a child, as it seemed or rather of a sound midway between the distressed cry of a child and the fierce scream of an Indian so near, so loud, so emphatic, that we sprang to our feet, ex claiming : " Who! what child can that be?" " No child! Nobody!" answered Saloquah. " Only a panther!" " Only f " we echoed in horror, moving at the same time rapidly toward the tent. " Is that the way you talk of panthers ? " "Panther won't hurt you here.. People too many," Saloquah returned, in a soothing tone. On inquiry, we learned that panthers were plentiful in all parts of this wild country, and that their visits were not unusual even in the farms, and sometimes in the yards of the in^. habitants, but that they seldom attacked human beings, confining their ravages mainly to cattle, hogs, and poultry. One of them, he informed IO4 SAL-O-QUAH; OR, BOY-LIFE us, had even been daring enough tb make its home for a time under Kaneeka's roof. " Indeed! how was that ? " we asked. The answer was.not immediately given, for Kaneeka had come with, gun and dog, and pro posed to cousin Aleck to join him in a short tour through the woods, in hopes of getting a shot at the intruder, in which effort we boys were permitted, within certain limits, to join them. In less than half an hour we had re turned to the tent, when Saloquah went on with his story. He said that while their present house was in an unfinished state, Kaneeka had gone to enter him (Saloquah) at the Mission School, and was absent about ten days, leaving Chescoo to take care of herself and the children. Before a week had passed, she was annoyed by losing first a favorite fowl, then a pig, and afterward by hear ing, just before daylight, a scratching at the gable end of the house, as if- something were climbing there. When her husband returned, she informed him of these facts, and also that she thought she heard at times during the day AMONG THE CHEROKEES. IO$ the sound of a snore, or a yawn, from the open loft above. Without delay he took his rifle, raised himself so as to reach the loose boards overhead, softly removed one of them, and peeped around. To his surprise and horror, he saw a great brown object quietly rolled up in one corner. Descending noiselessly^ he gathered his children into a well-protected room, stationed Chescoo below him with a loaded gun, stuck a long knife in his belt, and again ascended with his rifle. The creature lay sleeping as before -- he could hear it breathe. Its head and breast were turned from him, and were thus protected from a deadly shot by its hinder parts. All ready for shooting, he made a slight noise. The creature awoke, looked sleepily at him, and he sent a rifle - ball directly between its eyes. Quick as thought he with drew* his head, and re placed the board above him. But not one moment too soon; for the panther, mortally wounded, but not killed, sprang at him, and tore furiously at the place where he disappeared. While it was pulling at the board within a foot of his head, Kaneeka thrust his knife through a io6 SAL-O-QUAH; OR, BOY-LIFE crevice, and wounded it so painfully in the foot that, with a howl of rage, it rushed to the un finished gable, leaped to the ground, and was running frantically past the door when a quick shot from Chescoo's gun laid it upon its side. While Saloquah was giving this account, Kaneeka came in from the woods, and not onlyconfifmed the statement, but assured us that, in former years, panthers and all other wild beasts were much more plentiful than they Were then. " When I was a boy," said he, " my uncle Bowls gave me the pup of a large, fierce dog. It be came the best panther dog in the country. One day, during a heavy snow, a white boy from the neighborhood came to say that his father had seen the track of a large panther in the snow near his house, aird wished my dog to help hunt it. I did not like to refuse our neighbor's re quest, yet did not like to risk my dog on so dangerous an errand without some one to look after him. So I resolved to go too. In hunt ing panthers in the snow, a dog is not needed for tracking them, because that can easily be AMONG THE CHEROKEES. IO7 j> done by the eye, but for chasing" and worrying them until they take refuge in a tree. " There were six of us in company, and two dogs. We tracked the panther for about two miles, our dogs keeping directly before us, ac cording to the Indian rule in hunting. All at once, my dog, Waw-hyuh, (the name means -- Wolf,) came to a dead halt, showed his teeth, bristled his back, and gave a low growl. We halted, too, for we knew that the panther was dangerously near. Waw-hyuh's eyes pointed toward the upturned roots of a large tree, which had fallen across a rock in such manner as to be kept several feet aboveground, and to furnish a good shelter from the snow. Under this shelter we saw two panthers, a dam and a half-grown cub. "We called in our dogs. Mr. Stein, the white man who had invited us to the hunt, and who therefore took the lead, claimed the privilege of the first shot, and gave the second to me. "' But take good aim, right between the eyes, or behind the shoulder,' said he. ' My panther will not need a second shot.' "He was mistaken, however. He gave the 3* io8 . SAL-O-QUAH; OR, BOY-LIFE "Word to fire, and my rifle went off clear, and sent its ball to the heart of tjie cub, so that it dropped in its track; but his rifle ' hung fire/ and before the ball came out, the panther had turned its head, so that he only broke its jaw, and we had to fight it with our knives and dogs. "But no sooner had we fired than there was a perfect commotion under the log next the rock. First, a young panther sprang out, then the old sire, almost gray with age, then two more, making six in all. There was a great hurrah among the hunters, as each one selected his game and followed Mt, calling upon the others for help, The young panthers all took to trees as quickly as possible, and were soon brought down by the guns. The old sire, taught, no doubt, by experience, made his way to a great distance, and had to be tracked for hours. At last, however, we brought him to bay, and forced him into a tree. Then we all gathered round, and by turns had a shot at him. He was toughK and hard to kill, but we succeeded at last; and when we returned home from the hunt, each had a panther-skin, and plenty of panther-meat. AMONG THE CHEROKEES. 109 " I have only one thing mt>re to s&y," added Kaneeka, " and that is, that Mr. Stein took good care of my dog. When we were fighting the panther with the broken jaw, Waw-hyuh sprang upon it and was knocked down. He lay sense less on the ground, under the creature's paw, and the moment of showing signs of life would have been his last. What to do I did not know, for both our guns were empty, and the other hunt ers were off, engaged in pursuit. Mr. Stein, how ever, knowing the value of the dog, did not hesitate. He drew his long knife, ran directly upon the panther, and stabbed it five times in the side, as quickly as-his hand could move, driving his knife to the hilt, and, it seemed to ine, to the heart. Waw-hyuh was saved, but Mr. Stein was not wholly unhurt, for as h{s hand approached in the second stab, the panther struck at it, cutting with its sharp claw through itK^h&eeensllyeeavse.iof fdhoinse coat, with and the skin beneath, as a razor. Mr. Stein car ried home a bloody hand, as well as a panther- skin, and bore the mark of the fight the rest of his life." CHAPTER X. FIRE-FLIES -- MORE MUSIC, BUT NOT FROM MAN -- A VOLUNTARY FROM A MANY-VOICED CHOIR -- INTERESTING CONVERSATION. E went early to bed that night. The moonlight was delightful, but we had no fancy for exposing ourselves again to the panthers. We sat in the tent doo/, enjoy ing the brilliant flashing of the fire-flies, which illumined the dark woods around us, by scores and hundreds at a time, and listening, till we were weary, to the mournful notes of the whippoor-will, and the merry chirping of the frogs. Going early to bed prepared us for early rising. The gray dawn gradually brightened into a glorious sunrise. J.n the mean time, there was such a concert of birds as I never before heard, or at least such as I never before noticed or 110 SAL-O-QUAH. 111 t enjoyed. It seemed as if the whole feathered creation knew it was Sabbath morning, and > awoke early to worship the Creator. I have [ always enjoyed the singing of birds, and all the y more for trying to distinguish the several song sters. This morning I recognized three kinds ^ of mocking-bird, the gray, the brown, and the ! black; three kinds of wren, all musical, and one very sweetly voiced; three kinds of oriole, of splendid plumage, and passable song; two kinds of finch, pleasant singers both, one of them known as the redbird, possessing a few notes of surpassing sweetness. Besides these were ! many others -- the jays, the bee - martens, the swallows, and a few robing; but, beyond them all, in impressiveness of song, was a kind which we had never met with till coming to that region. Cousin Aleck said it was a species of nightin gale, although its song was confined to the cool ^Lthe day. The woods were perfectly alive ^*^r with them. Each uttered about nine different strains of music, sometimes in one order, some-" times in another; each strain alike in beginning with a soft musical " uh!" and in ending with t 112 SAL-O-QUAH; OR, BOY-LIFE sweet metallic twitter, but varying in the four or five intervening notes, which were so full of liquid music as to send a thrill of pleasure through the heart of the listener. Lorenzo and I spent the greater part of an hour listening to the rich voluntary with which the choir of nature opened that day's worship. While thus engaged, we were joined by Saloquah, who also had.a keen relish for music, and who helped us to appropriate to the right songsters several notes !'bf which we' had before been uncertain. About sunrise, cousin Aleck also came out, and relishedv exceedingly this natural concert. He said that he had enjoyed it, once or twice before, in the early morning, but never so greatly as now, and that in his own country there was nothing to compare with it. Indeed, I doubt, after a lapse of fifty years, in which I have seen much of this world, whether there is to be found any place on earth affording a richer concert of bird-music than the mountain region of the once,, Cherokee country. Soon after breakfast, Kaneeka came to see us My father offered to engage in a "little Bible - AMONG THE CHEROKEES. 113 reading to him and his family some time in the course of the day; to which he replied, with a lurking smile: " Yes, thankee! Some people will be here to'day to hear Bible. I tell them already." He had dispersed his invitation by means of the fishermen the day befbre, and they had car ried it to every lodge within walking-distance of our place. Scarcely had his reply been uttered before we saw Scossit-equah come stalking, through the woods in one direction, while from another came the same old man and his wife we had noticed the Sunday before. From that time on, for an hour, the people kept dropping in, until every available seat on the logs and stumps around the preaching-stand was occupied, and many of the -congregation had to stand or take their places on the bare ground. I will not stop to describe the services of the occasion, which were only a repetition, with interesting variations, of those of the Sabbath preceding. But there was an idea gained that day which has been so pleasant and profitable to remember, "that I record it for the benefit of VOL. in. H 114 SAL-O-QUAH; OR, BOY-LIFE such of my young readers as may love to study God in His works. A conversation between my father and cousin Aleck had reverted to the beautiful display of fire-flies the evening before, and the rich music of the morning, which caused cousin Aleck to remark: " I seldom enjoy these beauties of nature with out recalling the words, * Full many a gem,' * and wondering why there is such a waste of beauty." "I do not understand you," returned my father. "What I mean is this," he explained: " If the Creator intended all these natural beauties for the increase of our happiness, as is usually, and I believe, rightly supposed, why should there be so much beauty wasted on places where there is no one to see it ? " "To my mind," was the answer, "there is no * The lines alluded to in these words, are -- " Full many a gem of purest ray serene The deep, unfathomed caves of ocean bear; Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, And waste its sweetness on the desert air." AMONG THE CHEROKEES. 115 i --< more waste in this superabundance of beauty, j than there is in the abundance of water above what we can drink, or in the abundance of air above what we can breathe. The truth is, God is rich, as well as great, and He loves as much \ to show His affluence as His power--yes, and j His ten?* too. This is my explanation." _/ "I perfectly agree with you," said cousin Aleck; "yet your explanation does not meet my difficulty. The Creator never works without an aim. We can conceive uses for air and water beyond those of breathing and drinking; but what use can you imagine for the rich tints of flowers which are never seen, and for delicious music which is never heard ? " "Are you sure that these are not seen or"^ heard?" asked my father. "Sure that much of it is never heard or seen by man, and especially by appreciating*mm" cousin Aleck answered. "But why confine all the appreciation to man f " returned my father. " And even if you do, I still ask, are you sure that any one can fully appreciate them ?" ', SAI>O-QUAH;. OR, BOY-LIFE Cousin Aleck pondered, and my father went on. "The Bible asks in one place, 'Doth God Care for oxen ?' and answers in another, ' Not a sparrow falls without his notice.' He seeks the happiness of all His creatures, brute as well as human. Who knows the amount of relief to Weariness in a brooding bird caused by the song of her mate, which no ear hears but her own ? Yet we can suppose the happiness produced by that song a sufficient reason for its being ordered by Providence." " You give me new light," joyfully assented cousin Aleck, "yet not all that my difficulty demands. What would you say of those cases, of which we can readily conceive, where the beauty is never seen by any eye of man or brute -- those flowers, for instance, which are ' born to blush unseen ' -- those pearls of the ocean which glitter and dissolve with time in ' deep, unfathomed caves ' -- those glittering diamonds and those golden treasures yet uncov ered in the bowels of the earth, and never to be uncovered so long as the sun and moon endure ?" AMONG THE CHEROKEES. "I should say," answered my fathei, "that they are intended for ether eyes than those of either man or brute. And are there none such ? The Bible tens us of angels. Surely they are as capable as,we of appreciating beauty ? and, for aught we know to the contrary, they can as readily admire the beauty of the diamond enveloped in; its homely crust, and lying in its uncovered mine, as we can when it flames in beauty in a monarch's crown." Cousin Aleck was delighted. " The. idea never occurred to me," said he, "of these wasting beauties of earth (as I had esteemed them) being sources of pleasure to the beings of another world. But the thought meets all my difficul ties; and, more than that, its tendency is to confirm the divine authority of the Bible, which tells us of these unseen beings." " I have one thought more to add," continued my father, " and I do it with reverence: ' He that formed the eye, shall He not SEE? He that planted the ear, shall He not HEAR?' and He that produces so much beauty, shall He not ENJOY IT? For aught we know, much of what we see xi8 SAL-O-QUAH. in nature is intended not only for the pleasure they afford the creature, but for the pleasure they afford the Creator Himself." Cousin Aleck sprang to his feet. He turned his back for a moment on my father, but I could see his hands clasped, and his eyes raised to heaven, as if he were saying: " Glorious Creator! forgive me, that in enjoy ing Thy works I have so often forgotten Thee." Then turning to my father, he said, with strong emQtion: "I shall never hereafter enjoy anything in nature without thinking that the Creator is pre sent and enjoys it too." CHAPTER XL ROCK MOUNTAIN -- SPLENDID GLOWWORM -- OLD MILITARY FORTIFICATION -- A THUNDER-STORM ---- SUNSET. WENTY miles away to the southeast, a vast prominence of rock loomed in lonely grandeur above the horizon. It was the great natural curiosity of the neighborhood, of which we had often heard, and which we had resolved to visit at our first oppor tunity. That time had now come. Indeed, the fame of this great rock had extended to the Old Country, and had there excited interest through the representation of a British officer who had visited and described it^ as early as the year 1788. We set out on Tuesday, June 25, under the pilotage of Kaneeka, and although the way was 119 I2O SAL-O-QUAH; OR, BOY-LIFE rough and circuitous, we reached our destination in time to encamp comfortably before sunset. The country around had, at that time, barely passed into the hands of the white man, and there were few roads, and fewer houses of ac commodation. Our tent was pitched beside a spring near the mountain's base, around the north and west of which flows a pleasant stream. From this point the rock rose majestically, with an almost perpendicular face of a thousand feet. We enjoyed its rough grandeur almost as much by the soft light of the moon as we did by the red light of the setting sun. After the setting in of night, we were much interested in another obje'ct of natural beauty, which, although not at all connected with the mountain, except by mental association, I men tion here lest it be forgotten. It was a glow worm. The ordinary glowworms of the coun try measure only about three-fourths of an inch in length, and show but one point of light as large as a pin's head, just under the tip of the abdomen. The worm which we saw this night measured at least two and a half inches, and t AMONG THE CHEROKEES. presented eight spots of brilliant light on each side of its body -- a pair at each articulation --making sixteen in all; so that when rolling itself up, as it always did on being disturbed, it looked like a ball of light. I have often met with it since, and have often spoken of it to men of science, but have'never known of its being described, except by unscientific "persons like myself. It is possible that those versed in insect lore (known as entomologists) may say this worm is no " glowworm " * at all, except in its glowing, but I can assure them that of all insects I have ever seen it best deserves the name. Talcing an early breakfast the next morning, we made our way first to the eastern side of the mountain. Here the view was stupendous. A bare, hemispherical mass of solid granite rose before us to the height of two or three thousand feet, striped along its sides, as if torn by light- * Lampyris is the scientific'jiame of those soft-skinned, wing less beetles which emit a light from the terminal plates of the abdomen. ""Possibly the worm described above may shine from diseaset as even crickets are reputed sometimes to do. Ijr2 SAL-O-QUAH; OR, BOY-LIFE ning, or "gullied" by the action of water during countless ages. Our ascent was effected on the southwestern side, where the slope is comparatively easy, and where the otherwise perfect baldness of the rock Js relieved by an occasional tuft of dwarfish "cedars and stunted oaks, which find a root-hold in the crevices. These trees, elevated a quarter of a mile above the surrounding level, seem to be a favorite resort for buzzards, many of which were wheeling in graceful flight in the air around, and a greater number were perched, upon dead branches, and treetops, apparently resting from their labors, and watching from this convenient height for objects on which they might feed in the level country below. We found the summit an irregularly flat oval, about a furlong in length. The view from it was superb. Not another mountain could be seen in any direction within a distance of twentyfive or thirty miles. The country all around seemed to be an immense level, or rather a basin, the rim of which rose on all sides to meet the blue of the sky. To the east and south ap- AMONG THE CHEROKEES. 12$ peared a few clearings, but in every other direc tion the forest was unbroken. Now, while I write, however, the country is filled with farms, and the smoke of the white man's engines and the thunder of his railroads break the repose of the then primeval nature. Encircling the summit, at the distance o!S nearly a quarter of a mile fro'm its centre, was a remarkable wall, about breast high, built of loose, fragmentary stone, and evidently intended for a military fortification; but when erected, and by whom, we could not learn. Kaneeka, on being questioned, said that it was there when his people first came, and that they knew no more of it than we did. In some places the stones were almost all dislodged by persons who had rolled them down the steep declivity; but there were enough remaining to show that the wall had once been continuous, all around the sum mit, and that the only place of entrance was by a natural doorway under a large rock, so narrow and so low that only*one man could enter at a time by crawling on his hands and knees. From the summit we passed a short distance 32 124 SA1>0-QUAH J OR, BOY-LIFE down the steep sides north and east, but saw nothing there to attract attention, except a few stunted trees, and some crevices -and imperfect caverns formed by the thunder-riven rocks. In one of these caves we took shelter, about two o'clock in the afternoon, from the extreme heat of the sun, for we had brought with us all neces sary eatables and drinkables for spending the day in comfort, and we had moreover found a small supply of cool water in one of the caves, the remains, no doubt, of melted snow. It was while thus occupying the cave upon that wild summit, and feeling like so many Robinson Crusoes, separated from all the rest of the world, that we enjoyed another scene of grandeur surpassing that of the mountain itself. It was a thunder-storm. We had despatched our cold dinner, and were reclining on the softest places we could find on the rock, waiting for such naps as people weary with labor and ex citement might expect, when we were startled by a thunder-peal. This was most unexpected, for on leaving the open air, half an hour before, the sky was beautifully clear: not a cloud was AMONG THE CHEROKEES. 125 to be seen, except one about the size of a blanket, lazily floating toward us from the West. But half an hour can produce a vast change of a sultry afternoon, on a mountain-top, when the air is charged with moisture and electricity. The sudden crash of thunder brought us all to our feet. " I fear this is not a very safe place in A thun der-storm," said my father, looking anxiously at the rocks torn by lightning, some of which, visible from the cave's mouth, showed signs of recent fracture. " Safe as any other," cousin Aleck quietly re turned. " Indeed, buried as we are beneath this heavy roof of rock, we are safer than in an ordi nary house. Only let us keep within doors'* My father smiled. " I believe you are right," said he. " For even if the bolt should fall directly above our heads, the lightning would be so dissipated by the mass of rock as to be harmless before it reached us." We did not find i? easy, however, to keep " within*doors," as cousin Aleck advised, while so grand a scene was enacting without, and we 126 SAL-O-QUAH; OR, BOY-LIFE all indulged ourselves, in turn, two at a time, in going to an open place where we could enjoy it. The cloud did not envelop, or even touch the mountain---we were not high enough--but it seemed to be only a short distance above. Nor were the thunder-peals more frequent, or more violent than we had often heard upon the plains; but there was an awful sense of nearness to an agent of terrific power, of which we were all the time reminded by a roar like that of a passing hurricane, or of surf beating upon art open beach. Twice, during the storm, was the mountain struck, as we could know by the sound, and by the jar, but we received no injury, nor did we even feel the influence of the electricity, although we afterward discovered a great flake of rock scaled off from a ledge not fifty feet from our place of refuge. In the course of an hour the rain and thunder ceased, the skies became clear, and we had a delightful afternoon. We lingered until early twilight, to witness the going down of the sun, which JCaneeka assured us would be as well worth our waiting for as anything we had seen. AMONG THE CHEROKEES. 127 And ,so we found. A few thin clouds streaked the western sky, scarcely diminishing the splendor of the sun, but at the same time catch ing and diffusing into a sea of glory the light which would otherwise have been lost. The rich coloring of these clouds, beyond all earthly power to imitate, or even to describe, so greatly charmed us that we had at last to tear ourselves from them with a.kind of violence. Our twilight was very short, for we, as well as the sun, descended; and ere we reached our tent, the light of the moon was a welcome help to our footsteps. We found everything safe, although Scipio, who had been left in charge, had an important revelation to make, of trouble front a suspicious-coking visitor. CHAPTER XII, SCIPIO'S STORY--KANEEKA'S EXPLANATION -- THE PONY CLUB. CIPIO said that about the middle of the forenoon, a dark - skinned white man, with bushy, black ,hair and whiskers, rode up to the camp, and seeing him alone, asked him who he was, and what he was doing. Not liking the man's looks, and fearing that he might attempt Some violence, Scipio said that he took the liberty of making up a little story: That his master was a great hunter from the seaboard, who had come with several friends to look at the mountain country, that they were now in the woods not far off, with their guns and dogs, and that he was every moment ex pecting them back. "How many are there in the company?" asked the man. 128 SAL-OQUAH. " 129 " Fourteen, sir, and five dogs, one of them a great big bulldog'' " And which way did they go ? " " That way, sir," Scipio answered, pointing in a direction opposite to that we had taken. The man seemed amused. "You lie, boy, and you know it," he said. " There are but six in all, three men> and three boys, and they all went up the mountain. So you see I know all about you." "Wuh fuh" (wherefore, or what for) "then you ax me ? " Scipio returned, a little nettled. The man made no reply, but looked around. "These are fine horses," he said, as if partly talking to himself. / "Yes, sir; all good}horses," Scipio assented. " Well, now, boy," the other continued, in a coaxing tone, "what will you take in silver or gold to help me run them off? " " I wun't tek nothin', sir." "Why not?" " Because one of 'erri^s my own horse." The man started, and stared at him, then asked, "Which?" VOL. III. -- I 130 SAL-O-QUAH; OR, BOY-LIFE Scipio pointed to Old Gray, the best-looking of the set. " You are a rich boy," said the stranger, in a half merry tone; " a rich boy, to own a better horse than your master." Scipio found himself caught in his own trap; he therefore tried no further, but responded, " Even ef no horse is mine, I would not run 'em off, and leave my master afoot in dis-yuh wild woods." " You are a good boy," said the man, mock ing. " But as we are here all alone, what is to prevent my knocking you in the head, and taking the horses, whether you will or no ? " Scipio s"aid that, up to this time, he had been frightened; but this last speech made him mad. He answered: " You may knock me in de head if you like," but, in saying so, he sprang into the tent, seized the gun that he called his, and when he reap peared at the tent door the muzzle of the gun came first. The man did not seem in the least daunted; on the contrary, he laughed; but he spoke in a AMONG THE cHEROKEESi 131 quicker tone than before, saying, " Don't shoot I good boy; don't shoot! Lower your muzzle. I won't knock you in the head." Scipio replied by keeping the muzzle of the gun full on the man's breast, and saying in as resolute a manner as he could: " I put nine buckshot in yuh yesterday, and you may have 'em all, if you choose." "But I don't choose, good boy! I don't choose," he said, wheeling his horse; and as he rode away he looked back, saying, " Goodby, good boy: be sure and never leave your master afoot. D'ye hear?" Serious as the affair seemed, we could not , resist several hearty laughs at the scene de picted; and the whole story so perfectly coin cided with what we knew of Scipio's character, that we did not doubt its correctness. But how were we to interpret the intruder's language and conduct? On appealing to Kaneeka, he in formed us that, on the frontier of several of the States, he did not know how many, there was a gang of thieves, who practised all kinds of rob bery, especially horse-stealing, on an enormous 132 SAL-O-QUAH; OR, BOY-LIFE scale. He said they managed their affairs so well as to be able to know each other in the dark, by secret signs, even when they had never before met, -- that the work was so divided among them that it was the chief business of some to do the stealing, of others to receive and hide, of others to convey the stolen property away, and of all to help one another in a time of need. He concluded by saying he had no doubt that Scipio1s acquaintance was one of this gang, and that we should probably hear from them again. These several accounts, first by Scipio, then by Kaneeka, were given while we were taking our supper by the light of a pine-knot fire; and it was not many minutes afterward when we heard a'halloo from the woods. My father and cousin Aleck went to the outer edge of the illuminated circle around our fire, and asked: " Who's there ? and what is wanted ? " The answer came back, " Two lost men, who want to be put in their way." The moment Scipio heard the voice, he came to my father, and said, in a low tone: AMONG THE CHEROKEES. 133 " Mossa, dah de same ,man waw talk wi' me to-day." " Keep out of his*4 sight then, and seem not to know him," my father said. The tramp of horses and the crackling of underbrush announced the approach of horse men through the woods; and soon afterward there emerged from the darkness two men, each bestriding a horse that walked slowly, and hung its head, as if ready to sink from fatigue, and having behind him a pair of well-stuffed saddle bags. " We had just give up for the night, stranger, when we saw your fire," said the elder of the two, a smooth-faced man, with light complexion and sandy hair. " We have been lost in the wild woods ever since twelve o'clock." " I am sorry for your misfortune* How can we help you ? " asked my father. " No ways better 'n by letting us have some feed for our horses, and a place in your camp. We '11 pay you ten prices rither 'n stay in the woods among the wolves and painters," answered the man. 134 .SAL-O-QUAH; OR, BOY-LIFE My father scrutinized him a moment, and all the more closely from having heard a "Eh -- eh!" of surprise from Scipio, who was concealed , near him in the shadow of a tree. " No doubt we can let you have a little corn for your horses. Here, Scipio!" he called, as if to one at a distance, "come with me to the wagon," and they two went off alone. " Is this the man who talked with you to day ? " he then asked, in a low tone. ." Ef me eye shut, mossa, -I say yes. Ef me eye open, I say no. De same voice, mossa -- de berry same voice, and eye too; but a nurrah man's skin and hair." "Enough," said my father, who instructed him briefly what part he wished him to act, and then they came forward with the corn. Scipio brought an armful of ears, put them down, and, seemingly without suspicion of the new-comers, returned to the tent. " Here is the corn, stranger, to which you are ^welcome," said my father. " I am sorry I canhot say the same of offering you a place in our AMONG THE CHEROKEES. 135 camp; but this is a wild country, and we do not know you." " Oh, as for knowing us, I can sopn make that straight," said the other. " We are from Jack son County, and are bound for Tennessee. This young man, Bob Hickman, is going thar to take him a wife, and I am a-going thar to tie the knot for him." " Indeed ? So you profess to be a preacher ? " my father interrupted. "I do that same, and here's my showing for, it," said the man, handing forward a paper certifying that John Stone was "a worthy brother, in fellowship with (some) Association." The paper was written in a fair round hand, and was signed, "Jessy Merser, Presiding Elder," thus furnishing two evidences of its being a forgery, one in the spelling of the intended name, Jesse Mercer, and the other in the title affixed as presiding officer, which should have been Moderator. " Your name seems, from this paper, to be John Stone," remarked my father. 136 SAL-O-QUAH; OR, BOY-LIFE " That's what I 'm called at home," answered the other. " And you are a preacher of what persuasion ? " my father asked. " Of the Meth----- uh --- uh! -- of the BAPTIST Church," the man replied, with strong emphasis, after his partial mistake. " In my part of the country we should count you rather an uncommon sort of preacher," said my father; " for- if my ears did not deceive me, I heard something like an oath as you came up." " Oh! I 'm a Hardshell, of the TWO-SEED per suasion; and we are allowed to swear a little sometimes, and to drink a little, too," said the other. " So you must excuse me." "Not easily, with what was intended to be Mr. Mercer's signature and certificate, for he is everywhere regarded as a good man," my father indignantly returned. " Bob," said the senior, " this here man rither doubts my calling. Have n't you some paper, or something else about you, to show him what you are ? " AMONG THE CHEROKEES. 137 " Yes," said Bob; " I have a paper with my name in it, Robert Hickman." With this he assumed a pompous air, and took from his pocket-book a paper, which'he said was as good as a bank-note. It was in these words: " One day after date I promise to pay to Robert Hickburn ($125.00) one hundred and twenty-five dollars, for value received. " HUGH MONTGOMERY. "March 20, 1822." "What Montgomery is that?" asked my father. "Why, Squire Montgomery, that lives near Jackson Court-house; the leading man of the county," answered Hickman, alias Hick