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