Shortia - A Botanical Mystery Story

Oconee Bells, photographed March 13, 2009

In the month of March, the stream banks near Lake Jocassee (South Carolina) are the site of a botanical spectacle found nowhere else on the planet. Among the first wildflowers to bloom in early spring, the delicate white Oconee Bells (Shortia galacifolia) are as beautiful as they are rare.

Beyond that, the plant was the subject of a mystery that intrigued and frustrated botanists for an entire century. That aspect of its history led to the description of the plant as one “discovered by a man who didn’t name it, named for a man who didn’t see it, by someone who didn’t know where it was.” That story begins with the great French botanist Andre Michaux, who was exploring the South Carolina upcountry in December of 1788. Accompanied by a Cherokee guide, Michaux collected plant specimens from valleys now deep beneath the waters of Lake Jocassee.

Michaux carefully collected the seed capsules and shiny green leaves of one plant that he did not recognize and that specimen eventually made its way to a herbarium in Paris. When the American botanist Asa Gray visited that herbarium in 1839 and saw the mysterious plant for the first time. A note attached to the specimen indicated that it was found in the “Carolina mountains” and Gray spent the next forty years trying to pin down the exact location where the plant had been collected. Recognizing that the plant did not belong to any known genus, Gray named it “Shortia galacifolia” as a tribute to the Kentucky botanist Charles Short, with the species name a comment on the resemblance of the foliage to that of the  Galax. Upon naming the plant, Gray challenged Dr. Short to travel to the Carolina mountains and actually locate the plant in its native habitat. That never happened and Charles Short never saw the plant bearing his name.

Gray persisted with his Shortia quest although he knew neither its time of bloom nor its preferred elevation. He sought it out while working from Jefferson, NC in the far-northwestern corner of the state, and he searched for it to find it along the high peaks of Grandfather Mountain, the Roan Mountains and the Black Mountains. If only Gray had consulted Michaux’s diary from 1788, he might have located the plant in short order. Indeed, Michaux explained that he first encountered the mysterious plant along the headwaters of the Keowee River in the South Carolina upcountry:

There was in this place a little cabin inhabited by a family of Cherokee Indians. We stopped there to camp and I ran off to make some investigations. I gathered a new low woody plant with saw-toothed leaves creeping on the mountain a short distance from the river.

A couple of days later, Michaux added:

I came back to camp with my guide at the head of the Keowee and gathered a large quantity of the low woody plants with the sawtoothed leaves that I found the day I arrived. I did not see it on any other mountain. The Indians of the place told me that the leaves had a good taste when chewed and the odor was agreeable when they were crushed, which I found to be the case.

Michaux even left explicit directions for finding the plant, which would have served Asa Gray in his search decades later:

The head of the Keowee is the junction of two torrents of considerable size which flow in cascades from the high mountains. This junction takes place in a small plain where there was once a Cherokee village. On descending from the junction of these two torrents with the river to one’s left and the mountains which face north on the right, one finds at about 100-300 feet from the junction, a path formed by the Indian hunters.’ It leads to a brook where one recognizes the site of an Indian village by the peach trees which still exist in the midst of the underbrush. Continuing on this path one soon reaches the mountains and one finds this plant which covers the ground along with the Epigaea repens [Trailing arbutus].

Lacking that crucial information, Gray never came close to the site of Michaux’s discovery. But in May 1877, seventeen year old George Hyams found Shortia growing on the banks of the Catawba River near Marion, NC. George’s father, M. E. Hyams, an herbalist, did not recognize the plant. Eighteen months later, M. W. Hyams sent a specimen to a friend in Rhode Island who subsequently alerted Gray to the possible discovery of the elusive plant.

A jubilant Asa Gray corresponded directly with M. E. Hyams and planned a visit to Marion in the spring of 1879, and at last he observed Shortia, albeit a small and isolated colony, growing in the wild. Gray wrote:

Year after year have I hunted for that plant! And I grew sorrowful at having named after Dr. Short a plant that nobody could find. So conspicuous for its absence had this rarity become, that friends of ours botanizing in the mountains two years ago, were accosted with the question-’Found Shortia yet?’-from people who had seen our anxious search for it.

Although Gray never reached Keowee, a younger botanist retraced the travels of Andre Michaux. In the autumn of 1886, Charles Sprague Sargent and some fellow botanists were looking for another plant mentioned by Michaux, Magnolia cordata [Yellow Cucumber Tree]. They were traveling from Sapphire to Cashiers in North Carolina when their discussion turned to Shortia.

Inspired by that conversation, Frank Boynton was determined to find the plant where Michaux had first seen it. And in the spring of 1889, just one year after Asa Gray died, Boynton departed his home in Highlands, NC to find the Keowee headwaters:

We camped the first night at the White Water Falls, which alone are worth a considerable journey to see. The Jocassee Valley, our destination, is at the mouth of White Water Creek or rather at the Junction of White Water and Devil Fork. I wished to see if Shortia was growing as high up in the mountains as these Falls, which are at least 1000 feet above Jocassee. No Shortia was found, however, until we reached the valley, which has an altitude of about 1200 feet and here it grows by the acre. Every little brooklet is lined with it. Most of these little water courses are in deep narrow gorges where the sun hardly penetrates, except during the middle of the day. All these steep banks are literally covered with Shortia. What is comforting to the botanist is that it can hardly be exterminated. It is on land too steep to be cultivated and there is such an abundance that no amount of collecting can ever effect it strenuously. Our party took away bushels of it, and no one could tell that a plant had been disturbed, so thickly it is growing. No idea of the beauty of this plant can be formed until it has been seen in its native home. The mass of glossy green and white, once seen, can never be forgotten.

The home of Shortia is a strange mixture of North and South. As a rule it grows under the shade of rhododendrons and tall kalmias. Hemlock and white pine of splendid dimensions are very common.... To see Shortia in blossom and in its glory one must get there about the 20th of March, not later than March 25.

And so, the quest for an elusive plant first noted by a French botanist in 1788 finally came full circle. But that is not the end of the saga. Although Boynton declared that the Oconee Bells could “hardly be exterminated” thanks to their abundance and the terrain of their habitat, he failed to anticipate the actions of the Duke Power Company in the 1970s. Duke’s construction of Lake Jocassee doomed the largest part of the world’s largest population of Shortia galacifolia. Loads and loads of Oconee Bells, growing on the soon-to-be inundated streambanks, were hauled away in pickup trucks and station wagons for transplanting in other locales. The flowers that remain, above the level of the lake, still constitute the greatest community of the species anywhere, though isolated native populations have been found in Alabama, Tennessee, Virginia, Massachusetts and even Japan.

Oconee Bells can form a dense groundcover in moist, shady forests, with the typical habitat being a streambank under the shade of rhododendron in a forested area populated by hemlock, white pine and tulip poplar.

A legend attributed to the Cherokee suggests that the blooms of the Oconee Bell led people to the waters of Jocassee:

Jocassee and its meaning are derived from the legend of a Cherokee maiden. Chief Attakulla and his Oconee tribe, known as the "Brown Vipers," lived on the west side of the Whitewater River. The Eastatoees, a rival tribe, lived on the east and were called the "Green Birds." It is likely that the Green Birds received their name from the Carolina parakeet (Conoropsis carolinensis), a species that became extinct in 1904. This was the only endemic parrot of North America. The Eastatoee area was the last site the species was recorded in South Carolina.

Legend has it that a young warrior named Nagoochee lived among the Green Birds but was not afraid to enter Brown Viper hunting grounds. One day while hunting in Brown Viper territory (probably the area known as Musterground today), Nagoochee fell and broke his leg. Nagoochee was convinced he would perish in the wilderness, when he heard the singing of Jocassee, Chief Attakulla's daughter. Jocassee took Nagoochee back to her father's lodge and nursed him back to health. They fell in love and Nagoochee stayed with the Oconee tribe.

Later during a fight between the tribes, Jocassee's brother, Cheochee, killed Nagoochee. When Cheochee returned from battle with Nagoochee's head dangling from his belt, Jocassee didn't say a word. She slipped into a canoe and onto the water. As Jocassee still gazed at the head of her lover, she stepped into the water. Legend claims that she did not sink but walked across the water to meet the ghost of Nagoochee. The name Jocassee means "Place of the Lost One."


More recently, the flower inspired a song by Gillian Welch and Dave Rawlings:

The fairest bloom the mountain knows

Is not an iris or a wild rose

But the little flower of which I'll tell

Known as the brave acony bell

Just a simple flower so small and plain

With a pearly hue and a little known name

But the yellow birds sing when they see it bloom

For they know that spring is coming soon

Well it makes its home mid the rocks and the rills

Where the snow lies deep on the windy hills

And it tells the world "why should i wait

This ice and snow is gonna melt away"

And so I'll sing that yellow bird's song

For the troubled times will soon be gone



https://youtu.be/cufWYp4D28Y

A Strange Wailing Sound

In keeping with this week's theme...

[From August 2, 2010]

North Carolina leads the nation in copperhead snake bites:

In 2009, 499 snake bites were reported to Carolinas Poison Center. Of those, 228 were identified as copperhead bites. About 30% of all reported snake bites are “dry,” which means venom is not injected.



Most bites can be treated with wound care and pain management. Some serious bites require antivenom. July and August are the most common months for people to get bitten.

North Carolina has five venomous snakes that cause the majority of snake bite poisonings (copperhead, cottonmouth, eastern diamondback, pygmy, and timber), but it’s the copperhead that causes the most bites. Copperheads are not usually aggressive snakes, but they will bite to protect themselves or to secure food. Children who are playing outdoors and adults who are gardening are especially at risk for snake bites.

( Asheville Citizen Times, 8/2/10, http://www.citizen-times.com/article/20100802/NEWS/308020044 )

The photos are of my 2009 neighborhood copperhead, which I’ve not seen this year. I’d like to think I’m a devout pacifist regarding venomous snakes, but I might make an exception depending on the circumstances.

However, I must say that a story related by James Mooney in Myths of the Cherokee has influenced my response to snake encounters:

58. The Rattlesnake's Vengeance

One day in the old times when we could still talk with other creatures, while some children were playing about the house, their mother inside heard them scream. Running out she found that a rattlesnake had crawled from the grass, and taking up a stick she killed it. The father was out hunting in the mountains, and that evening when coming home after dark through the gap he heard a strange wailing sound. Looking about he found that he had come into the midst of a whole company of rattlesnakes, which all had their mouths open and seemed to be crying. He asked them the reason of their trouble, and they told him that his own wife had that day killed their chief, the Yellow Rattlesnake, and they were just now about to send the Black Rattlesnake to take revenge.

The hunter said he was very sorry, but they told him that if he spoke the truth he must be ready to make satisfaction and give his wife as a sacrifice for the life of their chief. Not knowing what might happen otherwise, he consented. They then told him that the Black Rattlesnake would go home with him and coil up just outside the door in the dark. He must go inside, where he would find his wife awaiting him, and ask her to get him a drink of fresh water from the spring. That was all.

He went home and knew that the Black Rattlesnake was following. It was night when he arrived and very dark, but he found his wife waiting with his supper ready. He sat down and asked for a drink of water. She handed him a gourd full from the jar, but he said he wanted it fresh from the spring, so she took a bowl and went out of the door. The next moment he beard a cry, and going out he found that the Black Rattlesnake had bitten her and that she was already dying. He stayed with her until she was dead, when the Black Rattlesnake came out from the grass again and said his tribe was now satisfied.

He then taught the hunter a prayer song, and said, "When you meet any of us hereafter sing this song and we will not hurt you; but if by accident one of us should bite one of your people then sing this song over him and he will recover." And the Cherokee have kept the song to this day.

In Sacred Formulas, Mooney shares more on the subject, beginning with a Cherokee song used in the treatment of snake bite:

HI´ I´NATÛ YUNISKÛ´LTSA ADANÛ´NWÂTĬ.

1. Dûnu´wa, dûnu´wa, dûnu´wa, dûnu´wa, dûnu´wa, dûnu´wa (song).
Sgĕ! Ha-Walâ´sĭ-gwû tsûnlû´ntani´ga.
2. Dayuha, dayuha, dayuha, dayuha dayuha (song).
Sgĕ! Ha-Usugĭ-gwû tsûn-lûn´-tani´ga.
(Degâ´sisisgû´nĭ).—Kanâgi´ta nâyâ´ga hiă´ dilentisg´ûnĭ. Tă´lĭ igû´nkw’ta‘tĭ, ûlĕ´ talinĕ´ tsutanû´nna nasgwû´ tâ´lĭ igû´nkw’ta‘tĭ´. Tsâ´la aganû´nlieskâĭ´ tsâ´la yikani´gûngû´âĭ´ watsi´la-gwû ganûnli´yĕtĭ uniskûl‘tsû´nĭ. Nû´‘kĭ nagade´stisgâĭ´ aganûnli´esgûnĭ. Akskû´nĭ gadest´a‘tĭ, nûû‘kĭ nagade´ sta hûntsatasgâ´ĭ. Hiă-‘nû´ i´natû akti´sĭ udestâ´ĭ yigû´n‘ka, naski-‘nû´ tsagadû´lăgisgâ´ĭ iyu´stĭ gatgû´nĭ.

Translation.

THIS IS TO TREAT THEM IF THEY ARE BITTEN BY A SNAKE.

1. Dûnu´wa, dûnu´wa, dûnu´wa, dûnu´wa, dûnu´wa, dûnu´wa.
Listen! Ha! It is only a common frog which has passed by and put it (the intruder) into you.
2. Dayuha, dayuha, dayuha, dayuha, dayuha.
Listen! Ha! It is only an Usu´‘gĭ which has passed by and put it into you.

(Prescription.)—Now this at the beginning is a song. One should say it twice and also say the second line twice. Rub tobacco (juice) on the bite for some time, or if there be no tobacco just rub on saliva once. In rubbing it on, one must go around four times. Go around toward the left and blow four times in a circle. This is because in lying down the snake always coils to the right and this is just the same (lit. “means like”) as uncoiling it.

Explanation.

This is also from the manuscript book of Gahuni, deceased, so that no explanation could be obtained from the writer. The formula consists of a song of two verses, each followed by a short recitation. The whole is repeated, according to the directions, so as to make four verses or songs; four, as already stated, being the sacred number running through most of these formulas. Four blowings and four circuits in the rubbing are also specified. The words used in the songs are sometimes composed of unmeaning syllables, but in this case dûnuwa and dayuha seem to have a meaning, although neither the interpreter nor the shaman consulted could explain them, which may be because the words have become altered in the song, as frequently happens.

Dûnu´wa appears to be an old verb, meaning “it has penetrated,” probably referring to the tooth of the reptile. These medicine songs are always sung in a low plaintive tone, somewhat resembling a lullaby. Usu´‘gĭ also is without explanation, but is probably the name of some small reptile or batrachian.

As in this case the cause of the trouble is evident, the Indians have no theory to account for it. It may be remarked, however, that when one dreams of being bitten, the same treatment and ceremonies must be used as for the actual bite; otherwise, although perhaps years afterward, a similar inflammation will appear on the spot indicated in the dream, and will be followed by the same fatal consequences. The rattlesnake is regarded as a supernatural being or ada´wehi, whose favor must be propitiated, and great pains are taken not to offend him.

In consonance with this idea it is never said among the people that a person has been bitten by a snake, but that he has been “scratched by a brier.” In the same way, when an eagle has been shot for a ceremonial dance, it is announced that “a snowbird has been killed,” the purpose being to deceive the rattlesnake or eagle spirits which might be listening.

The assertion that it is “only a common frog” or “only an Usu´‘gĭ” brings out another characteristic idea of these formulas. Whenever the ailment is of a serious character, or, according to the Indian theory, whenever it is due to the influence of some powerful disease spirit the doctor always endeavors to throw contempt upon the intruder, and convince it of his own superior power by asserting the sickness to be the work of some inferior being, just as a white physician might encourage a patient far gone with consumption by telling him that the illness was only a slight cold.

Sometimes there is a regular scale of depreciation, the doctor first ascribing the disease to a rabbit or groundhog or some other weak animal, then in succeeding paragraphs mentioning other still less important animals and finally declaring it to be the work of a mouse, a small fish, or some other insignificant creature. In this instance an ailment caused by the rattlesnake, the most dreaded of the animal spirits, is ascribed to a frog, one of the least importance.

In applying the remedy the song is probably sung while rubbing the tobacco juice around the wound. Then the short recitation is repeated and the doctor blows four times in a circle about the spot. The whole ceremony is repeated four times. The curious directions for uncoiling the snake have parallels in European folk medicine.

http://www.gutenberg.org/files/26568/26568-h/sacred.html 

Cherokee Snakebite Remedies

 Just yesterday, I was reading "my kind of article,"  Cherokee Snakebite Remedies, by David Cozzo.  What I like about it is that the author compiles a number of historic documents that address the topic, and provides helpful context for those documents.  That is pretty much the formula I use for many of the posts on this site.  When something is done so well, as with Cozzo's article, I don't see any need to reinvent or recreate the good work.  In reading the article, though, there was one thing missing:  a summary list or index of the many plants mentioned as possible remedies. And that is the point of today's post.

This beauty, stationed in the middle of Wolf Ridge Trail (Great Smoky Mountains National Park), greeted us as we descended from Gregory Bald on June 16, 2013.

I highly recommend Cozzo's article and I think my contribution adds to its value.  My initial reaction to the article was "Yes, it is interesting to read these old accounts of medicinal plants, but in a crisis would I count on them?"  I'll admit that I would be calling 911 during a snakebite emergency.  On the other hand, such an event would likely occur deep in the woods somewhere.  I would stand a good chance of putting my hands on one or more of these plants long before the arrival of paramedics.  So, as a practical matter and not just cultural trivia, the article warrants more study.

These lists could be improved upon.  I suspect the taxonomy needs to be cleaned up.  The popular names of plants are so often interchangeable, and even the scientific names change over time.  Many of the accounts cited by Cozzo are from the 18th and 19th centuries and therefore the listings might not reflect current botanical nomenclature.  

Plants Mentioned in Cozzo article, alphabetical by scientific name:

Ageratina altissima	White Snakeroot
Amphicarpa bracteata	Hog Peanut
Angelica venenosa	Hairy Angelica
Aristolochia serpentaria	Virginia Snakeroot
Asplenium rhizophyllum	Snake’s Tongue
Botrychium virginianum	Rattlesnake Fern
Cacalia atriplicifolia	Pale Indian Plantain
Cicuta maculata	Wild Parsnip
Coronilla varia	Crown Vetch
Cunila origanoides	Mountain Dittany
Eryngium yuccafolium	Rattlesnake Master
Gentiana villosa	Sampson Snakeroot
Helianthus annuus	Sunflower
Hepatica acutiloba	Hepatica
Hypericum gentioides	Pineweed
Hypericum hypericoides	St. Andrew’s Cross
Juncus effusus	Soft Rush
Liriodendron tulipifera	Tulip Poplar
Lobelia inflata	Indian Tobacco
Lycopus virginicus	Water Hoarhound
Pedicularis canadensis	Lousewort
Plantago major	Common Plantain
Polygala senega	Seneca Snakeroot
Prenanthes alba	Rattlesnake Root
Prunella vulgaris	Heal-all
Rhus radicans	Poison Ivy
Rudbeckia fulgida	Black-eyed Susan
Sanicula canadensis	Black Snakeroot
Schoenoplectus tabernaemontani	Soft-stemmed Bulrush
Silene stellata	Starry Campion
Spiraea trifoliata	Indian Physic
Thalictrum dioicum	Early Meadow Rue
Tilia americana	Basswood
Vicia caroliniana	Wood Vetch
Xanthium strumarium	Cocklebur

Plants Mentioned in Cozzo article, alphabetical by common name:

Basswood	Tilia americana
Black Snakeroot	Sanicula canadensis
Black-eyed Susan	Rudbeckia fulgida
Cocklebur	Xanthium strumarium
Common Plantain	Plantago major
Crown Vetch	Coronilla varia
Early Meadow Rue	Thalictrum dioicum
Hairy Angelica	Angelica venenosa
Heal-all	Prunella vulgaris
Hepatica	Hepatica acutiloba
Hog Peanut	Amphicarpa bracteata
Indian Physic	Spiraea trifoliata
Indian Tobacco	Lobelia inflata
Lousewort	Pedicularis canadensis
Mountain Dittany	Cunila origanoides
Pale Indian Plantain	Cacalia atriplicifolia
Pineweed	Hypericum gentioides
Poison Ivy	Rhus radicans
Rattlesnake Fern	Botrychium virginianum
Rattlesnake Master	Eryngium yuccafolium
Rattlesnake Root	Prenanthes alba
Sampson Snakeroot	Gentiana villosa
Seneca Snakeroot	Polygala senega
Snake’s Tongue	Asplenium rhizophyllum
Soft Rush	Juncus effusus
Soft-stemmed Bulrush	Schoenoplectus tabernaemontani
St. Andrew’s Cross	Hypericum hypericoides
Starry Campion	Silene stellata
Sunflower	Helianthus annuus
Tulip Poplar	Liriodendron tulipifera
Virginia Snakeroot	Aristolochia serpentaria
Water Hoarhound	Lycopus virginicus
White Snakeroot	Ageratina altissima
Wild Parsnip	Cicuta maculata
Wood Vetch	Vicia caroliniana

Citation for original article:

Cozzo, David (2013) "Cherokee Snakebite Remedies," Proceedings of the annual meeting of the Southern Anthropological Society: Vol. 41: No. 1, Article 5.
DOI: 10.56702/MPMC7908/saspro4101.4
Available at: https://egrove.olemiss.edu/southernanthro_proceedings/vol41/iss1/5

Battling Rattlers

The time of year is almost here to be aware of the snakes that share these hills with us.  A botanist from long ago, who explored the Cowees, collected one doozy of a rattlesnake tale.

[From March 23, 2009]

I’ve been reading the journals of John Lyon, an early botanist of the Southern Appalachians, who crossed Balsam Gap, traveled down Scott’s Creek and went across to Cullasaja in 1808. From his base in Asheville, Lyon wandered in all directions to collect unusual plants.

On one such trip to Knoxville, Lyon encountered a Colonel McClelan who told him a story - and what a preposterous story it was:

The same gentleman informs me that he very lately was an eye witness of a most severe battle between two large Rattlesnakes. One of them having been bitten by the other retired from the conflict a little distance and ate 2 or 3 leaves of a plant which the Colonel showed me and which proves to be the Coreopsis senafolia [Coreopsis major] of Mich. and immediately returned to the contest, and after continuing it with great fury for some time one of them wase again bitten and immediately disentangled himself and repaired to the same plant and eate some of it as before, and again renewed the contest.

The Colonel then stepped up quietly without disturbing the combatants and pulled up the plant, and again took a convenient station to see the issue; when after some time one of them was again bitten and immediately retired in search of the plant as before but not finding it immediately turned over on his back and died in 2 or 3 minuts. Whither it was the same individual snake that was bitten each time he could not ascertain from their writhing and twisting together during their conflict.

As far as I’ve been able to determine, this is the only reference to coreopsis as a remedy for snakebite. Coreopsis major belongs to the Aster or Sunflower Family. It grows to the height of two to three feet and has a slender stem. Its leaves are two to four inches long and one quarter of an inch to an inch wide. It is common in the Little River Gorge of the Great Smokies, flowering from June through August.

Perhaps coreopsis does hold promise as a snakebite remedy…

…but I would like to hear something more convincing than the Colonel’s vivid account of the battling rattlers.

'Little People' Guarded Hickory Nut Gorge

 [Here's one of the stories I wrote for Smoky Mountain Living.  The article appeared in the April 2018 edition of the magazine.]

Hickory Nut Gap was one of the few passes to the east for the Cherokee, a gateway they believed was guarded by magical little people.

Geology and hydrology go a long way toward explaining the rugged landscape of the Hickory Nut Gorge, southeast of Asheville. But science can only go so far toward helping us understand the mystique of that area.

When the writer and artist Charles Lanman traveled the Southern Appalachians in 1848, he spent time among the Cherokee.  From them, he learned how the ancients brought back tobacco through the Hickory Nut Gorge. Said Lanman, “I heard it from the lips of a chief who glories in the two names of All Bones and Flying Squirrel, and occupied no less than two hours in telling the story.”

Long, long ago, a wandering stranger from the east introduced tobacco to the Cherokee. They grew quite fond of smoking the sacred herb from their large stone pipes. When the supply dwindled, they were anxious to obtain more tobacco. This herb of the distant past was not the common tobacco of commerce in later times, Nicotiana tabacum, but a wild form, Nicotiana rustica. The Cherokee used the plant for many ritual and medicinal purposes, as a sacred incense, as a guarantee of any solemn oath, and as a means of seeking omens or driving away witches and evil spirits.

Traveling from the mountains to the flatlands where tobacco grew in abundance was no easy task. Hickory Nut Gap was one of the few passes to the east, gateway to the most direct route for finding the plant.

Unfortunately, the gap and the gorge were constantly guarded by a multitude of Little People and other spirit beings. Whatever Chief Flying Squirrel might have said about the Little People, Lanman omitted from his retelling. Ethnographer James Mooney, in the course of his work among the Cherokee decades later, collected many accounts of the Little People. These creatures, known as Yunwi Tsunsdi in the Cherokee language, lived in rock caves on the sides of mountains. Small of stature, they barely reached up to a man’s knee, they were well-proportioned and they had hair so long it almost touched the ground. With a strong affection for music, they spent half their time drumming and dancing.

Ordinarily, they were helpful and generous, and had been known to lead lost children back to their parents. But the Little People did not like to be disturbed at home and would cast spells over strangers who discovered their habitations. The hapless intruders, bewitched and bewildered, were doomed to wander about in a daze forever after.

Hickory Nut Gorge was one of the places the Little People considered their own, and they wielded many magical powers to expel trespassers. For the Cherokee, a journey through the gorge was essential for bringing back the tobacco they craved. The wise men of the nation held council to discuss the challenge, knowing that extreme peril faced anyone bringing even a knapsack full of tobacco through the gorge.

One young man, determined to prove himself, stepped forward to volunteer for the mission. Full of confidence, the young warrior departed, never to return.

With their stores of tobacco almost exhausted, the elders reconvened. This time a clever magician rose to offer his services, promising that he would find a way to bring back the tobacco and satisfy the demand for the weed.

The magician turned himself into a mole, a ploy which almost succeeded, until the guardian spirits detected his tunneling and chased him back home without any spoil.

Changing form again, the magician turned himself into a hummingbird, threading his way through the gorge. As a mere hummingbird, though, he could only carry a tiny amount of treasure.

His friends back home were at the point of death for want of tobacco. The magician filled a pipe with the small portion he had smuggled through, he blew the smoke into their nostrils, and they were all revived and happy.

The magician was quite certain he could do better. He vowed to avenge the loss of the young warrior and to gain sole possession of the tobacco growing beyond the gorge. This time he turned himself into a whirlwind. Spinning violently through Hickory Nut Gorge, the whirlwind stripped the trees and shrubs from the mountainsides, scattered huge boulders up and down the rivers and streams, and exposed the rock cliffs still visible from Hickory Nut Gap to Chimney Rock and Lake Lure.

The storm was so intense that all the Little People fled. Free from the interference of the spirit guards, the magician searched and searched until he found the bones of the young warrior in the river bed and brought him back to life. The two of them returned home to the mountains heavily laden with tobacco. Ever since that time, tobacco has been plentiful throughout the land of the Cherokee, and Hickory Nut Gorge has never been the same.

[Addendum – Immediately after re-posting this article, I came across additional information which deserves mention.]

The observation of “little people’ was not unique to the Cherokee, but was spoken of by native people and European settlers in many parts of North America.  To cite one example, the Crow Indians spoke of little people in Montana’s Pryor Mountains.  These were fierce beings who guarded the mountain passes and had a strong craving for tobacco. 

While in South Dakota in August of 1804, the Lewis and Clark expeditioners were cautioned to avoid the little people who inhabited that area.  William Clark wrote:  

In my absence the Boat Passed a Small river Called by the Indians White Stone River [Vermillion River].  This river is about 30 yards wide and runs thro: a Plain & Prarie in its whole Course    In a northerley direction from the mouth of this Creek in an imence Plain a high Hill is Situated, and appears of a Conic form and by the different nations of Indians in this quarter is Suppose to be the residence of Deavels.    

That they are in human form with remarkable large heads and about 18 Inches high, that they are Very watchfull, and are arm'd with Sharp arrows with which they Can Kill at a great distance; they are Said to Kill all persons who are So hardy as to attempt to approach the hill; they State that tradition informs them that many Indians have Suffered by those little people and among others three Mahar men fell a Sacrefise to their murceyless fury not many years Since—    So much do the Maha, Souis, Ottoes and other neighbouring nations believe this fable that no Consideration is Suffecient to induce them to approach the hill.

A paper on the folklore of Canada’s Metis people  includes this note:

Albert Lightning says: “I have heard stories and read about the May-may-quay-so-wuk, known to the Cree as little people who live far under the ground, among rocky places, and under the water in marshy areas… Some say it was the task of the little people to record history and that their writings can be seen on rocks in the wilderness, yet no one can read them anymore.” In Diane Meili, Those Who Know: Profiles of Alberta’s Native Elders. Edmonton: NeWest Press, 1991: 80-81