Myths of the Cherokee by James Mooney
78. THE NÛÑNE'HI AND OTHER SPIRIT FOLK
2534 words | Chapter 105
The Nûñne'hi or immortals, the "people who live anywhere," were a race
of spirit people who lived in the highlands of the old Cherokee country
and had a great many townhouses, especially in the bald mountains, the
high peaks on which no timber ever grows. They had large townhouses
in Pilot knob and under the old Nikwasi' mound in North Carolina,
and another under Blood mountain, at the head of Nottely river, in
Georgia. They were invisible excepting when they wanted to be seen,
and then they looked and spoke just like other Indians. They were
very fond of music and dancing, and hunters in the mountains would
often hear the dance songs and the drum beating in some invisible
townhouse, but when they went toward the sound it would shift about
and they would hear it behind them or away in some other direction,
so that they could never find the place where the dance was. They were
a friendly people, too, and often brought lost wanderers to their
townhouses under the mountains and cared for them there until they
were rested and then guided them back to their homes. More than once,
also, when the Cherokee were hard pressed by the enemy, the Nûñne'hi
warriors have come out, as they did at old Nikwasi', and have saved
them from defeat. Some people have thought that they are the same
as the Yûñwi Tsunsdi', the "Little People"; but these are fairies,
no larger in size than children.
There was a man in Nottely town who had been with the Nûñne'hi when
he was a boy, and he told Wafford all about it. He was a truthful,
hard-headed man, and Wafford had heard the story so often from other
people that he asked this man to tell it. It was in this way:
When he was about 10 or 12 years old he was playing one day near the
river, shooting at a mark with his bow and arrows, until he became
tired, and started to build a fish trap in the water. While he was
piling up the stones in two long walls a man came and stood on the bank
and asked him what he was doing. The boy told him, and the man said,
"Well, that's pretty hard work and you ought to rest a while. Come
and take a walk up the river." The boy said, "No"; that he was going
home to dinner soon. "Come right up to my house," said the stranger,
"and I'll give you a good dinner there and bring you home again
in the morning." So the boy went with him up the river until they
came to a house, when they went in, and the man's wife and the other
people there were very glad to see him, and gave him a fine dinner,
and were very kind to him. While they were eating a man that the boy
knew very well came in and spoke to him, so that he felt quite at home.
After dinner he played with the other children and slept there that
night, and in the morning, after breakfast, the man got ready to take
him home. They went down a path that had a cornfield on one side and a
peach orchard fenced in on the other, until they came to another trail,
and the man said, "Go along this trail across that ridge and you will
come to the river road that will bring you straight to your home, and
now I'll go back to the house." So the man went back to the house and
the boy went on along the trail, but when he had gone a little way he
looked back, and there was no cornfield or orchard or fence or house;
nothing but trees on the mountain side.
He thought it very queer, but somehow he was not frightened, and went
on until he came to the river trail in sight of his home. There were a
great many people standing about talking, and when they saw him they
ran toward him shouting, "Here he is! He is not drowned or killed in
the mountains!" They told him they had been hunting him ever since
yesterday noon, and asked him where he had been. "A man took me over
to his house just across the ridge, and I had a fine dinner and a
good time with the children," said the boy, "I thought Udsi'skala
here"--that was the name of the man he had seen at dinner--"would
tell you where I was." But Udsi'skala said, "I haven't seen you. I
was out all day in my canoe hunting you. It was one of the Nûñne'hi
that made himself look like me." Then his mother said, "You say you
had dinner there?" "Yes, and I had plenty, too," said the boy; but his
mother answered, "There is no house there--only trees and rocks--but
we hear a drum sometimes in the big bald above. The people you saw
were the Nûñne'hi."
Once four Nûñne'hi women came to a dance at Nottely town, and danced
half the night with the young men there, and nobody knew that they were
Nûñne'hi, but thought them visitors from another settlement. About
midnight they left to go home, and some men who had come out from
the townhouse to cool off watched to see which way they went. They
saw the women go down the trail to the river ford, but just as they
came to the water they disappeared, although it was a plain trail,
with no place where they could hide. Then the watchers knew they
were Nûñne'hi women. Several men saw this happen, and one of them was
Wafford's father-in-law, who was known for an honest man. At another
time a man named Burnt-tobacco was crossing over the ridge from Nottely
to Hemptown in Georgia and heard a drum and the songs of dancers in
the hills on one side of the trail. He rode over to see who could be
dancing in such a place, but when he reached the spot the drum and the
songs were behind him, and he was so frightened that he hurried back
to the trail and rode all the way to Hemptown as hard as he could to
tell the story. He was a truthful man, and they believed what he said.
There must have been a good many of the Nûñne'hi living in that
neighborhood, because the drumming was often heard in the high balds
almost up to the time of the Removal.
On a small upper branch of Nottely, running nearly due north from Blood
mountain, there was also a hole, like a small well or chimney, in the
ground, from which there came up a warm vapor that heated all the air
around. People said that this was because the Nûñne'hi had a townhouse
and a fire under the mountain. Sometimes in cold weather hunters would
stop there to warm themselves, but they were afraid to stay long. This
was more than sixty years ago, but the hole is probably there yet.
Close to the old trading path from South Carolina up to the Cherokee
Nation, somewhere near the head of Tugaloo, there was formerly
a noted circular depression about the size of a townhouse, and
waist deep. Inside it was always clean as though swept by unknown
hands. Passing traders would throw logs and rocks into it, but would
always, on their return, find them thrown far out from the hole. The
Indians said it was a Nûñne'hi townhouse, and never liked to go near
the place or even to talk about it, until at last some logs thrown in
by the traders were allowed to remain there, and then they concluded
that the Nûñne'hi, annoyed by the persecution of the white men,
had abandoned their townhouse forever.
There is another race of spirits, the Yûñwi Tsunsdi', or "Little
People," who live in rock caves on the mountain side. They are
little fellows, hardly reaching up to a man's knee, but well shaped
and handsome, with long hair falling almost to the ground. They
are great wonder workers and are very fond of music, spending half
their time drumming and dancing. They are helpful and kind-hearted,
and often when people have been lost in the mountains, especially
children who have strayed away from their parents, the Yûñwi Tsunsdi'
have found them and taken care of them and brought them back to their
homes. Sometimes their drum is heard in lonely places in the mountains,
but it is not safe to follow it, because the Little People do not like
to be disturbed at home, and they throw a spell over the stranger so
that he is bewildered and loses his way, and even if he does at last
get back to the settlement he is like one dazed ever after. Sometimes,
also, they come near a house at night and the people inside hear them
talking, but they must not go out, and in the morning they find the
corn gathered or the field cleared as if a whole force of men had
been at work. If anyone should go out to watch, he would die. When
a hunter finds anything in the woods, such as a knife or a trinket,
he must say, "Little People, I want to take this," because it may
belong to them, and if he does not ask their permission they will
throw stones at him as he goes home.
Once a hunter in winter found tracks in the snow like the tracks
of little children. He wondered how they could have come there and
followed them until they led him to a cave, which was full of Little
People, young and old, men, women, and children. They brought him
in and were kind to him, and he was with them some time; but when
he left they warned him that he must not tell or he would die. He
went back to the settlement and his friends were all anxious to
know where he had been. For a long time he refused to say, until at
last he could not hold out any longer, but told the story, and in a
few days he died. Only a few years ago two hunters from Raventown,
going behind the high fall near the head of Oconaluftee on the East
Cherokee reservation, found there a cave with fresh footprints of
the Little People all over the floor.
During the smallpox among the East Cherokee just after the war one
sick man wandered off, and his friends searched, but could not find
him. After several weeks he came back and said that the Little People
had found him and taken him to one of their caves and tended him
until he was cured.
About twenty-five years ago a man named Tsantawû' was lost in the
mountains on the head of Oconaluftee. It was winter time and very
cold and his friends thought he must be dead, but after sixteen days
he came back and said that the Little People had found him and taken
him to their cave, where he had been well treated, and given plenty of
everything to eat except bread. This was in large loaves, but when he
took them in his hand to eat they seemed to shrink into small cakes
so light and crumbly that though he might eat all day he would not
be satisfied. After he was well rested they had brought him a part
of the way home until they came to a small creek, about knee deep,
when they told him to wade across to reach the main trail on the other
side. He waded across and turned to look back, but the Little People
were gone and the creek was a deep river. When he reached home his
legs were frozen to the knees and he lived only a few days.
Once the Yûñwi Tsunsdi' had been very kind to the people of a certain
settlement, helping them at night with their work and taking good
care of any lost children, until something happened to offend them
and they made up their minds to leave the neighborhood. Those who were
watching at the time saw the whole company of Little People come down
to the ford of the river and cross over and disappear into the mouth
of a large cave on the other side. They were never heard of near the
settlement again.
There are other fairies, the Yûñwi Amai'yine'hi, or Water-dwellers,
who live in the water, and fishermen pray to them for help. Other
friendly spirits live in people's houses, although no one can see them,
and so long as they are there to protect the house no witch can come
near to do mischief.
Tsawa'si and Tsaga'si are the names of two small fairies, who are
mischievous enough, but yet often help the hunter who prays to
them. Tsawa'si, or Tsawa'si Usdi'ga (Little Tsawa'si), is a tiny
fellow, very handsome, with long hair falling down to his feet, who
lives in grassy patches on the hillsides and has great power over the
game. To the deer hunter who prays to him he gives skill to slip up
on the deer through the long grass without being seen. Tsaga'si is
another of the spirits invoked by the hunter and is very helpful,
but when someone trips and falls, we know that it is Tsaga'si who
has caused it. There are several other of these fairies with names,
all good-natured, but more or less tricky.
Then there is De'tsata. De'tsata was once a boy who ran away to
the woods to avoid a scratching and tries to keep himself invisible
ever since. He is a handsome little fellow and spends his whole time
hunting birds with blowgun and arrow. He has a great many children who
are all just like him and have the same name. When a flock of birds
flies up suddenly as if frightened it is because De'tsata is chasing
them. He is mischievous and sometimes hides an arrow from the bird
hunter, who may have shot it off into a perfectly clear space, but
looks and looks without finding it. Then the hunter says, "De'tsata,
you have my arrow, and if you don't give it up I'll scratch you,"
and when he looks again he finds it.
There is one spirit that goes about at night with a light. The Cherokee
call it Atsil'-dihye'gi, "The Fire-carrier," and they are all afraid
of it, because they think it dangerous, although they do not know much
about it. They do not even know exactly what it looks like, because
they are afraid to stop when they see it. It may be a witch instead
of a spirit. Wafford's mother saw the "Fire-carrier" once when she
was a young woman, as she was coming home at night from a trading
post in South Carolina. It seemed to be following her from behind,
and she was frightened and whipped up her horse until she got away
from it and never saw it again.
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