SVMEUMASONTAN TNSUTTITTON
HURKWAU OF AMERICAN BYTYNOLOGY
WULLETIN: 196

SOSA Base ates

FHROPOLOGICAL
PAPERS

Numbers 715880

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SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION

4.5’ BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
cs ‘“ BULLETIN 196

ANTHROPOLOGICAL
PAPERS

Numbers 75-80

U.S. GOVERNMENT PRINTING OFFICE
WASHINGTON : 1966

———————— Eee

For sale by the Superintendent of Documents, U.S. Government Printing Office
Washington, D.C., 20402 ~- Price $2 (Paper Cover)

LETTER OF TRANSMITTAL

SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION,
Bureau or American HrHNowoey,
Washington, D.C., September 30, 1964.

Sir: I have the honor to submit the accompanying manuscripts,
entitled “Chronicles of Wolftown: Social Documents of the North
Carolina Cherokees, 1850-1862,” by Anna Gritts Kilpatrick and
Jack Frederick Kilpatrick; “The Gift of Changing Woman,” by
Keith H. Basso; “’The Wabnenauhi Manuscript: Historical Sketches
of the Cherokees, Together with Some of Their Customs, Traditions,
and Superstitions,” edited and with an introduction by Jack Frederick
Kilpatrick; ‘The ‘Principal People,’ 1960: A Study of Cultural and
Social Groups of the Eastern Cherokee,” by Harriet Jane Kupferer;
“The Ramah Navaho,” by Clyde Kluckhohn; and ‘‘Hastern Cherokee
Folktales: Reconstructed from the Field Notes of Frans M. Olbrechts,”
by Jack Frederick Kilpatrick and Anna Gritts Kilpatrick; and to
recommend that they be published as a bulletin of the Bureau of
American Ethnology.

Very respectfully yours,
Henry B. Coui.ins,
Acting Director.
Dr. S. Ditton Riprey,
Secretary, Smithsonian Institution.
rm

CONTENTS

PAGE
No. 75. Chronicles of Wolftown: Social Documents of the North Carolina
Cherokees, 1850-1862, by Anna Gritts Kilpatrick and Jack

iRrederick. Kilpatrickweysers cer anu Pee sy ery ee, 2 ee SNe 1

No. 76. The Gift of Changing Woman, by Keith H. Basso______-___-___- 113
No. 77. The Wahnenauhi Manuscript: Historical Sketches of the Chero-
kees, Together with Some of their Customs, Traditions, and
Superstitions, edited and with anintroduction by Jack Frederick

TESS BDC) 2 ee a EEN al gt OL I On oo RR Teg ine EER 175
No. 78. The “Principal People,’ 1960: A Study of Cultural and Social

Groups of the Eastern Cherokee, by Harriet Jane Kupferer__. 215

No. 79. The Ramah Navaho, by Clyde Kluckhohn__-_-_-.-_-_-_-_-_-- 327
No. 80. Eastern Cherokee Folktales: Reconstructed from the Field Notes
of Frans M. Olbrechts, by Jack Frederick Kilpatrick and Anna

Cer Ah) PLOY Ea a cs epg eg eet ea ke Pia ly SB 379

nal exept Mies Li ee enue ae Ea an eee Cee ok ie eR 449
III

Bae

x pic’ a —

hed | Ff: cE ty od ne Hoes ci r
ae pore Wheeih Felon) wt aaah ot etrlpoth ye, bat ‘Ka
ere een Serer ee

eres Seana age <te SNE Nore or dees SO

a a Y ate die ad nese Siete 2olonizirey
PL BE why etd a. e balerey yl the

A Fed? SOP

he ry. i ~~ as, 7 - . = ag i.

SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION
Bureau of American Ethnology
Bulletin 196

Anthropological Papers, No. 75

CHRONICLES OF WOLFTOWN: SOCIAL DOCUMENTS
OF THE NORTH CAROLINA CHEROKEES, 1850-1862

By Anna Gritts Kitpatrick and Jack FREDERICK KILPATRICK

t

Introduction

The

CONTENTS

The Inoli-Letters and other documents ==2 =—- +25 -5 22245222552 2L Se

The author of the documents
Translation note
Acknowledgments
Wolftown chronicles
No.
No.
No.
No.
No.
No.
No.
No.
No. 9.
pulli
No. 10. Tax roll and record of loans
No. 11. Note concerning some pigs

CONDOR WN rH

a

. Notice concerning illegal cutting of timber_____------------
= Procedure for borrowing mnoney (l)2.22- 225235" ek ee
; Procedure tor borrowing money (11) 2212-20-22. = 2222222. =.
. GA:L(U)SADI: HI requests a loan from the Wolftown Council --
. Willingness of the treasurer to restore money lost_-__-------
. Explanation of the treasurer __-
. Extension of time in which to repay a loan___-_--_----------
. SDHI:wi writes on Wolftown politics___._._._.__._-_------------
Letter from spHI:wI to INO:LI concerning school and fodder-

ng

Nos 2euRoll of Hehotadiethodist Missiones =e s2 240-2 = eee ee

No. 13. Report of a meeting for the purpose of considering tax

problems
14.
15.
16.
iy:
18.
19.
20.
21.
22.
23.
24.
25.
26.
27.
28.
29.
30.
31.
32.
33.
34.
35.
36.

No.
No.
No.
No.
No.
No.
No.
No.
No.
No.
No.
No.
No.
No.
No.
No.
No.
No.
No.
No.
No.
No.
No.

espa GF) i) | Tela tions =< oo ok a so oe ee oe
Tso: TSAGA sells his household furnishings_.---.------------
0:L(U)TSsEGI accuses DU:NA:yYI of stealing her dresses_-----
Concerning a debt of wAHHYAN’ :DA to TSA: N(I)LA:TS’___--

The clerk warns debtors_-_-—_-_-

Litigation over a debt: s4:YANI VS. U: NI:LO:SV___--------
Regulations coneerning marriage... 22. = 26a Se ce
Request for payment of win1’s funeral expenses__----------
Announcement of auction at home of WAHHYAGADO:GA__----
The @4pu:@(1) works in rvo:L1’s wheatfield_____----------
Rois secused.of thefte+= 2900s esis Be een et
Counting of wrv1’s livestock and debt of rsrwi__----------
Claim of rvo:x1’s mother against estate of wrnI__----------
Sale of personalrettecis Ol WIN t-— 22 - ae ae eee eee

Petition to James W. Terrell and tax record_______-_------

The clerk pays Wolftown officials..__.....-_.-.----------
Collections and disbursements: Estate of wrwr___----------

Expense account: Recovering

QNOTSCU == Se ee

Township collections, loans, and expenditures____-_--------
Receipt for payment of a bill at Qualla Store__..-.--------

Sale of the estate of @U:DAGI:

ST ee ede ne eed les

7sd:N(1)LA:TS° offers to work for some corn_._------------

Roster of colony at Sandtown

4 CONTENTS

PAGE
No. 37. wA:HvHT is granted a loan from the estate of one deceased__ 100
Novos. Ube dlerk pays the judge... 265-055-405 eee eee ees 101
No. 39. Record of drowning of 7rs4:LI GA:HWI:LI_-_--------=------ 102
No. 40. DA: s@rerpi: #1 complains of the misconduct of rsz: sr and

DARIN Ty eee tan 2A no NE ka a NS US eS yas see 103
No. 41. Resignation of Judge wa:avuHv0 and payment to other

Gpiad LED erate ee Senet ied ort eee es Panel ss a a ee 105
No. 42. Roster of singing class at Echota Methodist Mission_____--_- 107

Referencesicited=. =e Oe ae ek ped a en ee eee be, Fe 110

CHRONICLES OF WOLFTOWN: SOCIAL DOCU-
MENTS OF THE NORTH CAROLINA CHEROKEES,
1850-1862

By Anna Gritts KIuparrRick and JAcK FREeprERIcK KILPATRICK

INTRODUCTION
THE INOLI LETTERS AND OTHER DOCUMENTS

“Very little information is available for the Eastern Cherokee from
1848 until the outbreak of the Civil War,” write Fogelson and Kutsche
(1961, p. 108). <A considerable amount of information has actually
existed, but it has not been available to scholarship owing to its having
remained in the Cherokee language, in the Sequoyah syllabary, in
which it was written by the Cherokees themselves.

An imposing corpus of these data is contained in a file of manuscripts
in the archives of the Bureau of American Ethnology known as “The
Inoli Letters,’? No. 2241-a. Many of these documents are undated,
but those that bear dates establish a time range of from 1849 to 1884.
The bulk of this material falls within four broad categories: (1) docu-
ments pertaining to the civic affairs and cultural climate of Wolftown,
the easternmost of the communities of the North Carolina Cherokees,
1850-62; (2) documents pertaining to the participation of the North
Carolina Cherokees in the War Between the States, 1862-65; (3)
documents pertaining to the affairs of the tribal government of the
Eastern Band adopted in 1870, 1871-84; and (4) miscellaneous docu-
ments such as personal letters, reports of Christian activities, and
trivia. A few of the manuscripts, rather consistently those of small
interest, are in English.

In addition to the material filed under The Inoli Letters, No. 2241-a,
there are in the Bureau of American Ethnology archives three small
collections that are cognates—Nos. 2241-b, 2279-a, and 2280.

The Inoli Letters were acquired by James Mooney in the autumn
of 1888, when he was a member of the staff of the Bureau of American
Ethnology. Mooney (1891, pp. 314-316) records the circumstances:

In the course of further inquiries in regard to the whereabouts of other manu-

scripts . . . we heard a great deal about Inal!, or “Black Fox,’’ who had died a
few years before at an advanced age, and who was universally admitted to have

5

6 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 196

been one of their most able men and the most prominent literary character among
them, for from what has been said it must be sufficiently evident that the Chero-
kees have their native literature and literary men.... [He]... was a full-
blood Cherokee, speaking no English, and in the course of a long lifetime he had
filled almost every position of honor among his people, including those of councilor,
keeper of the townhouse records, Sunday-school leader, conjurer, officer in the
Confederate service, and Methodist preacher, at last dying, as he was born, in the
ancient faith of his forefathers.

On inquiring of his daughter she stated that her father had left a great many
papers, most of which were still in her possession, and on receiving from the
interpreter an explantation of our purpose she readily gave permission to examine
and make selections from them on condition that the matter should be kept
secret from outsiders ....

Having placed chairs for us in the shade In4li’s daughter brought out a small
box filled with papers of various kinds .... The work of examining these was
a tedious business, as each paper had to be opened out and enough of it read to
get the general drift of the contents, after which the several classes were arranged
in separate piles. While in the midst of this work she brought out another box
nearly as large as a small trunk, and on setting it down there was revealed to the
astonished gaze such a mass of material as it had not seemed possible could exist
in the entire tribe.

. . it was with a feeling akin to despair that we viewed the piles of man uscript
which had to be waded through and classified. ... but the woman was not done
yet, and after rummaging about inside the house for a while longer she appeared
with another armful of papers, which she emptied on top of the others.

. . . Alarge number of letters and other papers were selected from the miscel-
laneous lot, and these . . . arenowdeposited . . . withthe Bureau of Ethnology.

The notations for the purpose of identification that Mooney made
upon the documents apparently were not all made at the same time,
for they exhibit two distinct styles of handwriting: a carefully formed
script as beautiful as engraving, and a baffling scrawl, replete with
eccentric abbreviations and spellings, that at times merely approaches
legibility. One of these captions is dated 1911, proof that Ino:li’s
pack-rat propensities created a long task for Mooney. The initials
“WW” appended to many of the annotations indicate that Will West
Long, Mooney’s informant and friend, probably upon the occasion
recorded above and at other times, supplied information.

Certainly Mooney and Long worked hurriedly; for a specific caption
may be misleading or downright in error, indicating a too hasty
perusal on the part of Long or a misunderstanding of Long’s exposition
on the part of Mooney. Some of the documents bear no identification.

THE AUTHOR OF THE DOCUMENTS

There was a Chief Inali, or Black Fox, who signed the Washington
Treaty of 1806. The name “Ino:li,” although rare, is not unknown in
Oklahoma. It appears, for example, on a roll of a meeting of the
Gidu:hwa Society held at Honey Springs, A:mé6:hi District, Chero-
kee Nation, on September 5, 1874 (Cherokee Nation Papers, MS.,

Sea rE no PAP: CHRONICLES OF WOLFTOWN—KILPATRICK t

1874). Several living individuals in Sequoyah County are named
Ino:li. We have never encountered an Oklahoma Cherokee, how-
ever, to whom this name was meaningful. The black fox is said to
be but a mutation of the common red fox. Apparently it is so rarely
seen in the Oklahoma Ozarks that it has no special designation. If
at one time the black fox was called zno:li by all the Cherokees,
those in the West have forgotten the fact. Be that as it may, the
Ino:li of ‘The Inoli Letters’? was known to the Whites as ‘Black
Hox.)

Only in one document in the collection do we obtain any clue as to
when Ino:li was born, and nowhere do we learn where he was born,
although from his dialect it is safe to assume that his parents lived in
southern North Carolina. The entries upon it constitute a jumble of
demographic data, with dates ranging from 1861 to 1870; from them,
however, one can deduce that Ino:li was born in May 1817. This is
sadly at variance with the Terrell Roll (MS., 1860, p. 6) upon which
one finds the age 31 given for “No. 159 Eno-la or Black Fox.” If this
be correct, and ‘‘Eno-la” be our Ino:li, 1829 was the year of his
birth. Since Ino:li’s own statement is not clear, and inasmuch as
every roll that was ever made of the Cherokees contained inaccuracies,
we leave the question an open one.

That Ino:li knew and remembered the horrors of Removal and the
heroism of defiance is evidenced in documents not incorporated into
this study. And while, as we see, he recorded the petty debts and
personal animosities of Wolftown with a plodding pen, he could rise
upon wings in recalling the fugitive days of death upon the mountains
and the spirit of camaraderie that was “‘a column of flames.”

The date of Ino:li’s death, July 5, 1885, is hardly subject to doubt;
it is recorded in a ledger book of sacred formulas collected by Mooney
(Gadigwanasti, MS., p. 95). It will be seen that no matter which
date of birth we accept, Ino:li by no means died ‘‘at an advanced
age’’—not by Cherokee standards.

That Ino:li occupied various public posts among his people is
strongly indicated in The Inoli Letters, and we know for a certainty
that for a number of years he was clerk of Wolftown. A much more
complete picture of what his duties in this position were no doubt can
be obtained if his'lost record ledger, at one time in the archives of the
Bureau of American Ethnology and described by Pilling (1888, p. 185)
as “Council records of the Cherokee settlement of Painttown [sic for
Wolftown],” is ever recovered.

Among his papers we find documents that record some of Ino:li’s
activities as a Methodist preacher and as a noncommissioned officer
(he appears to have been a sergeant) in the Confederate service. He
was also a medicine man, but the documents that pertain to this facet

8 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 196

of his personality were extracted by Mooney from the bulk of his
papers and filed separately. The father-figure of the minister-
medicine man is a familiar one to the Cherokee who have long been
disposed to institutionalize that individual who heals the soul through
Holy Writ, the body through appropriate conjurations.

As a whole, The Inoli Letters are a testimony to a life largely spent
in the service of the Cherokee people at a particularly sad and difficult
juncture in their history.

TRANSLATION NOTE

The Sequoyah syllabary, as astonishing an accomplishment as it
intrinsically is, nevertheless is a relatively imprecise and therefore
ineffective device for the transference of oral values to paper. One
of its chief defects is its inability to designate which vowels are to
be voiced and which are to be unvoiced. It does not indicate the
length nor the pitch of syllables, crucial consideration in Cherokee.
There is but a feeble provision made for the aspirate and none at all
for the glottal stop; some symbols must stand for several consonantal
and vowel qualities; and several symbols bear unfortunate resem-
blances to each other. Moreover, many of the symbols lend themselves
to idiosyncratic variations of the most fanciful nature. Rarely does
one, no matter what degree of reading facility he may possess,
attempt a manuscript in Sequoyah syllabary without first taking
note of what personal opinions the writer may have harbored in regard
to the formation of certain symbols (see Chafe and Kilpatrick, 1962,
passim).

By and large, The Inoli Letters and the other above-mentioned
documents present a formidable task in mere decipherment itself,
not to speak of the determining of specific meanings. In general, the
calligraphy is inferior to that of Western Cherokee manuscripts of
the same period. We suggest that this is due to less familiarity with
printed Cherokee. The presses were in the Cherokee Nation, not
Qualla, and it is likely that the Western publications had a relatively
restricted distribution in North Carolina. But it is interesting to
note that Eastern Cherokee calligraphy of Ino:li’s day more closely
resembled the original concepts of Sequoyah than did the Western
which was patterned upon the type faces that were in all instances
simplifications, and in some cases gross distortions, of the Sequoyah
designs.

Some of the spellings in The Inoli Letters place one in the difficult
position of having to decide whether one is dealing with errors or with
faithful representations of pronunciations current at the period
under investigation. And, in obedience to some law that decrees
that those individuals not overly skilled in the craft of writing must

ae baal CHRONICLES OF WOLFTOWN—KILPATRICK 9

bolster their failings with self-conscious mannerisms, The Inoli Letters
abound in clumsy pomposities that conceal what they attempt to
reveal.

The Inoli Letters are rich in evidence that those Cherokees who
escaped the dragnet of the military did not all speak the same dialect,
just as those who came West did not, nor do their descendants today.
One of the pressing needs on Cherokee research is a study designed to
lay at rest the fallacy that there is an ‘‘Hastern” dialect and a ‘‘West-
ern’’ one.

The system of notation employed in the literal translations in this
study is one that was devised by Floyd G. Lounsbury and Jack
Frederick Kilpatrick in March 1963.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

We acknowledge with deep gratitude the grant from the National
Science Foundation that made this study possible.

We are much indebted to archivists and library officials who made
materials available and provided necessary services: Margaret C.
Blaker, Bureau of American Ethnology; A. M. Gibson, University of
Oklahoma; Mattie Russell, Duke University; Richard H. Shryock,
American Philosophical Society; and Max Trent, Southern Methodist
University.

Valuable suggestions and information were contributed by Wallace
L. Chafe and William C. Sturtevant, Bureau of American Ethnology;
Raymond D. Fogelson, University of Washington; Floyd G. Louns-
bury, Yale University; Albert C. Outler and Claude Albritton,
Southern Methodist University.

John D. Gillespie provided an index to the material, and several
Cherokee relatives and friends contributed to the solution of problems
in translation: Lois Ishcomer, William Jumper, Jack and Mary
Nofire, George Owl, and Jack Wolfe.

THE WOLFTOWN CHRONICLES

The nugget in the sands of The Inoli Letters and the other afore-
mentioned collections is to be found in those documents falling
within the first of the categories subsumed above (documents pertain-
ing to the civic affairs and cultural climate of Wolftown), for these
contain the data that do much toward enriching our knowledge of
Eastern Cherokee society in that ethnographically impoverished era,
1848-61, referred to by Fogelson and Kutsche (1961, p. 103).

10 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 196

It is true that they do not tell us all that we would like to know;
in certain respects they raise more queries than they answer. We
wish we knew, for instance, what the titles and exact duties of the
Wolftown officials were. How were these officials selected and for
what length of time did they remain in office? We do not learn of
the precise relationship of the Gadu:g(i) to the Township Council;
and although they tell us of crime, they are silent upon the subject
of punishment.

But we discover that the Eastern Cherokee were much more
highly acculturated than we had surmised, that township government
was a flourishing organism, and that economic problems were solved
with much ingenuity.

If through wobbly spelling and scratchy calligraphy the documents
that comprise The Inoli Letters have sometimes grievously extended
their fellow Cherokees, the translators, they have also provided new
proof that there is something immutable in Cherokee psychological
makeup. That legalistic turn of mind, with its tenacity for proprie-
tary and monetary rights, is fully present and accounted for in the
civic records of Wolftown. That favorite Cherokee word duyw:gh(o)dv
(‘right,’ “just’?) binds the documents together with a living thread.
And there are unexpected flashes of a wry humor that stir up the
dust that clings to all legal instruments. This, too, is typically
Cherokeean, as is the curious concept of what is systematic and what
is not, and as is that gift for synthesis.

The Terrell Roll is a moving document, recording as it does the
ghastly price the Eastern Cherokee had to pay in human life to
maintain a precarious hold upon their native soil. Over the Wolftown
documents there hang the unspoken distrust of the White man and
the constant fear of eviction. No great spiritual wind sweeps across
these pages; rather is there a stubborn, grubbing tenacity to persevere
and endure.

NO. 1—NOTICE CONCERNING ILLEGAL CUTTING OF TIMBER
(ON RECTO, IN ENGLISH)

All persons—are forewarned from entering the Indian Boundary
for the purpose of cutting saw logs—or wood of any kind—as the
law will be put in force against those offending—The Indians claim
the right of pay for timber cut—and it must be done

Oct 2d ‘1850 W H Thomas agt

per G. T. Mason

a aBora PAP CHRONICLES OF WOLFTOWN—KILPATRICK fl

(ON VERSO)
hi?a?sgini [!] a’da? digan(a)di: nv: di
this, in particular wood to be sold, they
nige:sV:na ge:sv:i ino:li u:sgwanigo:do?di
not it is Tno:li to keep it, he
gesé:sdi hi?a? gohwe:li [?]
it will be This paper

FREE TRANSLATION

This wood is not to be sold. This paper will be for Jno-li to
keep.

COMMENTARY

Timber was one of the principal cash crops of the 19th-century
Eastern Cherokee. There are some 143 varieties of trees in the
Great Smoky Mountains National Park which abuts their lands
(McCall, 1952, p. 12). Timber thievery has always engendered much
of the interracial friction existing in the Cherokee country of Okla-
homa. It must have been quite prevalent among the denser and
more valuable stands at Qualla.

This document must have been Will Thomas’ draft of what he
wanted stated upon signs to be erected at the boundaries of his
Cherokee land. The endorsement in the handwriting of Sdhi:ux
(Steve) summarizes Thomas’ proclamation for someone, perhaps
Ino:li, who could not read English.

Both Sdhi:wi and Ino:li served as clerk of Wolftown. If Sdhi:wi
were the clerk at this time, Jno:li must have been some other
official of the township; the reverse, however, could have been the
case.

There is a numeral (?) upon the verso: ‘‘72!/c,” the significance of
which is not apparent.

Mooney did not caption this document.

NO. 2.—PROCEDURE FOR BORROWING MONEY (I)

(FIRST NOTATION)

a’nv:yi il i:ga dago: we:la:ni 103 ade:lv B] 3

March 7 day I will write it 103 money 3
ani:se:n(i)si [4] a?sdé:hl(v) di niga: hl(i)sda aye:hli [5]
cents to help one, it it just became central

1 Neither capital letters nor punctuation marks are ordinarily used in Cherokee manuscripts.

2 Also employed for ‘letter’ or ‘book.’

3 This word aboriginally was for ‘bead(s).? It has no plural form. In the published literature it is
writen ade:la, and in some dialects so pronounced.

4In Cherokee there are relatively few loanwords from European languages. This word is chiefly con-
fined to North Carolina.

§ The meaning here is ‘centra! authority’ of any sort—civic, tribal, State, national, etc.

12 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 196

a:?vci [5] ade:lv 1852 tsa: li ade:lv

it(hard) is there money 1852 Tsa:li money
agh(a)dhi:ya aye:hli a:?vii ghi:lo

he watches it central it (hard) is there someone

ade: lv adho:hl(a)sgé:sdi gohwe:li uhné: [hi]sdi

money to be borrowing it, one paper to bring it (flex.), he
aye:hii [7] di:sghwanig6: di:sgi wa:sida?ni gohwe:li
central keeper of them, one Wa: sida’ni paper
agh(a)dhi:ya niga:hl(i)sda

he watches it it just became

(SECOND NOTATION)

dunolv : dhani [8] Ane [9] i:ga 1853 hudedhiyv :sadi:sv

January 4th day 1853 this year

(?] [2°] ani:se:n(i)si ghan(e)?gw6: gi a’nv:yi 4 i:ga

7] cents it increased March 4 day
(ON VERSO)

wa:sida?na [11]
FREE TRANSLATION

(FIRST NOTATION)

I write this on March 7th. $103.03 was on hand in the Township
[Gadu:g(t)?] Aid Fund for 1852. Tsa:li is the township [Gadu-:g(i)?]
treasurer. If one wishes to borrow money, he must bring a letter to
the township [Gadu:g(t)?] keeper of the money. Wa:sida?ni has
become Inspector of Letters.

(SECOND NOTATION)

On January 4, 1853 they counted [?] as interest up to March 4th

(ON VERSO)

Wa: sida?na

COMMENTARY

There is nothing here that permits us to be certain of the money-
lending organization in reference. So far as we know, the Eastern
Band of Cherokee had no formal tribal organization prior to 1870;
but there is some evidence to indicate that some of the townships,
and perhaps all of them, possessed township governmental machinery.

6'The form a:?hd:i has a wider distribution than that encountered here
7 The final syllable is incorrectly written a.

8 More commonly unolv: dhani,

§ An abbreviation for the terminatlon—i: ne (‘-th,’ ‘-rd’).

10 Indecipherable.

11 This written variant possibly represents a spoken variant.

ae ee a CHRONICLES OF WOLFTOWN—KILPATRICK 13

Certainly Wolftown did. But it also had a Gadu:g(2),[”] distinct
from but interlocking with the township organization. Whether
this document pertains to the town council or the Gadu:g(t) is an
open question. It is in the handwriting of Sdhi:wi who served as
Wolftown Clerk for a period within which the date of this document
falls, but he may have been clerk of the Gadu:g(z) concurrently.

Wa: sida?ni, who was still living at the time of James Mooney’s
first visits to the Cherokees, was the youngest son of Tsa:li (whose
name, like that of the treasurer mentioned above, was the Cherokee
equivalent of Charley), the Removal martyr whose touching story is
retold every summer at Cherokee, N.C., in Kermit Hunter’s his-
torical drama, ‘‘Unto These Hills.”” Being but a child at the time of
Tsa:li’s surrender, he was not executed with the other members of
his family. Although the Whites knew Wa:sida?ni as ‘Washington,’
his name, as Mooney (1900, p. 546) states, is derived from the term
for “. . . a hollow log (or other cylindrical object) lying on the ground
at a distance; the root of the word is astta, log, and the w prefixed
makes it at a distance.”

The variant Wa: sida?na written upon the verso is probably merely
a filing aid.

Mooney’s caption, ‘“Working Company—Record WW,” may be
accurate.

NO. 3.—PROCEDURE FOR BORROWING MONEY (ID

(FIRST NOTATION)

a’nv:yi gha?ly 9 i:ga 1852 unde: dhiyV:sadi:sv
March month 9 day 1852 year
hi?a?sgini ade:lv a:n(a)?se?ga aye:hli
this, in particular money they just counted it central
uni:hv wabhyé6: [hi] ga:du:hv 90
they have (hard) wolf-place town 90
ade:lv tso: ga?li 3 ani:se:n(i)si niga:gi
money [see Commentary below] 3 cents then it just totaled
aye: hli 60 ani:se:n(i)si a:hv
central 60 cents it (hard) there
tsa :lié:gwa [13] agh(a)dhf:ya ghil6:hno: udu:li:sgé :sdi
Tsa:lié: gwa he watches it someone, and he will be wanting
udho:hl(i)sdi [#4] udho: hl (i)sge:sdi hi?a?
to borrow, he he will be borrowing this
ubné:hisdi [!5] hi?gesé:sdi da:n(a)da:dho:hl(a)sdisgv:hno:
to bring it (flex.), he this it will be they are lending them, and

12 Defined by Fogelson and Kutsche (p. 87) as‘*. . . a group of men who join together to form a company

with rules and officers, for continued economic and social reciprocity.”
13 “Big Charley.’
14 The unvoiced vowel is a in some forms of the verb, 7 in others.
15 The third syllable is erroneously written he.

747-014—66——_2

14 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 196

so: gwo [16] nv?ghi iyanv:do igo:[hi:]dv 10
one four months as long as 10
ani:se:n(i)si u: hnegw6:isdi igé:se:sdif [17] a:nadv
cents to increase it, one it will be (cond.) they just said
ani:sgaye:gv:sda dhadl(a)du [8] iya[nv:]do
leaders twelve months

(SECOND NOTATION)

dehalu: yi 22ni:se [}9] i:g6:hi 1852 ude: dhiyV:sadi:sv:i 2]
June 22d daytime 1852 year

a:n(a)?se?ga ade:lv 100 24 [21]
they just counted it money $1.24
ade:lv:hi 3 ani:se:n(i)si niga:ga ani:sgaye:gv:sda
dollars 3 cents then it totals leaders
a:n(a)?se?ga ayv sdhi: wi go:wé:la: ga 100
they just counted it I Sdhi: wi I just wrote it $100
ade:lv:hi nv: hw(a)sdé:sdigw6 aye:hli gv:dhé:hl(i)sdigw6
dollars it must remain central one can borrow it
nige:sV:na [2] gesé:sdi

not it will be

(THIRD NOTATION)

unolv¥ : dhani 4ne i:ga 1853 hude: dhiyV:sadi:sv
January 4th day 1853 this year

a:n(a)?se?ga ghan(e)?gwo:gi a’nv:yi 4 i:ga
they just counted it it Just increased March 4th day

FREE TRANSLATION

(FIRST NOTATION)
March 9, 1852
They counted the money in the Wolftown Council treasury, $90.03
in all. If someone wants to borrow $0.60 for 4 months, let us say,
from Tsa:lié:gwa, the treasurer, he is to bring a written request. He
will be permitted to borrow it, and he will repay $1.00. The council-
men said that for 12 months the interest is to be $0.10.

(SECOND NOTATION)
June 22, 1852
The councilmen counted $124.03. I, Sdhi:wi, wrote this. Of
this amount $100.00 is to remain in the township treasury, and one
can not borrow it.

16 The first syllable of this numeral is either sa or so, depending upon the dialect of the speaker or writer.
It is sa in the printed literature.

17 In this form, a condition is impJied.

18 The conventional spelling, dhal(a)du-, is almost invariably pronounced as we have taken the liberty to
write it.

19 One would expect this abbreviation to be li:me. The ni:se here may be an error.

20 Variant of ude:dhiyp :sadi:sd. There is a connotation that the year is in progress.

31 One rather frequently encounters this fashion of writing numerals above one hundred in 19th-century
Cherokee manuscripts.

22 This word is garbled in the manuscript.

ie lead CHRONICLES OF WOLFTOWN—KILPATRICK 15

(THIRD NOTATION)

January 4, 1853
They counted the interest from March 4.

COMMENTARY

If the document preceding this one pertains to the moneylending
regulations of the Wolftown Council and not the Gadu:g(2), then the
difference between the $103.03 on hand on March 7th and the $90.03
on hand on March 9th, as recorded here, must be due to loans extended.
But the two documents may relate to two funds. They embrace the
same approximate period of time, and this may be of significance.
Sdhi:wi and Tsa:li may have been clerk and treasurer, respectively,
of both the Gadu:g(z) and the Wolftown Council.

The moneylending activities of the councils of the townships of
the Eastern Cherokee prior to the formation of a tribal government
have been neglected in the published literature. Here we find detailed
the technique employed, and in the second notation we gain a good
view of the conservative banking philosophy that prevailed. Since
the third notation is a duplicate of one found in the preceding docu-
ment, one wonders if January 4th were an official date for auditing.

Clerk Sdhi:wi underlines the word tso:ga?li twice, as if he were
quoting a term not in common usage. Mooney’s caption and note
upon this word are somewhat illegible, but apparently the reading is:
“Wolftown Money Acct ts4-gali gali & tsan: an old exprion [expres-
sion ?] formerly usd in Countg [Counting], as ts4l-gali tsd-gali etc
WW 8-3-11.”

We hypothesize that the word is a contraction of tso-:la (‘tobacco’)
and ga?lz (‘in it,’ flex.). Ga?lt (ga?la in Itso: di and some other dialects)
signifies that the tobacco leaves repose in some container such as a
pouch. Conceivably this archaism relates to the use of tobacco as a
medium of exchange, the ‘tobacco is in it’ in counting equating with
‘all there,’ or ‘true value.’

NO. 4.—GA:L(U)SADI: HI REQUESTS A LOAN FROM THE WOLFTOWN

COUNCIL
(ON RECTO)
dehalu: yi 22 i: ga 1852 ude: dhiyV: sadi: sV
June 22 day 1852 year
a:n(a)?se?ga 100 24 ade:lv 3 ani:se:n(i)si
they just counted it $124 money 3 cents
i: ga:i u: wa[s]dé: hl (i) di niga: ga ani:sgaye:gv:sda

in all to help him, it then it totals leaders

16 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Bunb. 196

a:n(a)?se?ga ayv nv: tsiwi [23] 100 u:wasdé: [hl (i) ]digwé6 [24]

they just counted it I I just then said $1.00 to help him, it, just

ye:li gv:dhé:hl(i)sdi nige:sV:na gesé:sdi

can can borrow it, one not it will be
(ON VERSO)

dehalu: yi 22 i:ga 1852 ude: dhiyV :sadi:sv

June 22 day 1852 year

gha? [25] hi?a?sgini a:se hitsvyalv :sv :ha P]

now this, in particular must this I think about you (pl.)

ade:lv aye:hli hitsi: v: ga [?7] $5 ade:lv

money central this you (pl.) have put (hard) $5.00 money

ayv ga:](u)sadi:hi iyi: hno ge:sgiyadh6 : hl(a)sdo?d!

I Ga:1(u)sadi: hi if, and to lend me, you (pl.)

gesé:sdi ghilagwo: iyV:dv 50 ani:se:n(i)si

it will be now, just right 50 cents

4: gwaghuy (v)di gesé:sdi na:sgihno: sgi: yadhé:1(a)sdanv

to pay it, I it will be that, and you(pl.) having lent me

iyand: dv [?5] ge:sv 6 ade:l¥: hi

month it is 6 dollars

di: gh(i) di gesé:sdi

to put them down (hard), I it will be

(ON LEFT-HAND BOTTOM CORNER OF PAGE)

dhi: gi
you get them (hard) (imp.)

dige [word not finished]
[?]

FREE TRANSLATION

(ON RECTO)

June 22, 1852
The councilmen have counted $124.03 in all. What the councilmen
counted is to help one.

‘“‘Add a dollar,’ I said, ‘‘and that is not to be borrowed.”

(ON VERSO)

June 22, 1852
Now! This is what I am thinking about you: You have $5.00 in
the township treasury. If you can lend it to me, Ga:l(u)sadi:hi, I
will pay $0.50 right now, and what you will have lent me for a month
I will repay as $6.00.

#3 There are several verbs in Cherokee that roughly equate the English ‘to say.’ The qualities in which
they subtly differ from each other defy practical translation.

24 Tdiomatically to ‘add’ to or ‘to enlarge.’

% Interjection: ‘Attention!’

28 One would expect this form to be hitsvyeli:se:hdé, but what is written may have been regionally current
in 1852.

27 Although the third syllable is written v, it may have been pronounced hz, as is generally the case today.

2 An acceptable variant, as is iyanv:da.

ge fa CHRONICLES OF WOLFTOWN—KILPATRICK 17

(ON LEFT-HAND BOTTOM CORNER OF PAGE)

Take it. [?]

COMMENTARY

One side of this document bears the formal request of Ga:l(u)sadi:hi
for a loan from the Wolftown Council with the proposal to pay half
of the interest in advance. (We learn elsewhere that it was the prac-
tice of the council to demand all of the interest in advance.) The
message on the recto is possibly a personal note to someone, perhaps
Sdhi:wi or Ino:li (who very likely was a councilman at this period).

The name of the importuner presents a fascinating etymological
puzzle. ‘Tribal designations (Chickasaw, Tasgigi, Catawba, etc.)
plus -di:hi (‘killer’) constitute fairly common Cherokee personal
names; but the only tribal appellative that in sound resembles
Ga:l(u)sa is ‘Calusa.’ The distance from the Cherokee country to
the historic seat of the Calusa in the vicinity of Tampa Bay adds a
complicating factor to the analysis of this name—one that at one
time might have been a familial tradition.

The condition of the manuscript is such that one cannot be certain
of the endorsement ‘Take it.’ If such be the correct reading, however,
it is probably by the treasurer.

Mooney’s caption reads: “Gflfsutihi wants borrow 5% from
Council—WW.”’

NO. 5.—WILLINGNESS OF THE TREASURER TO RESTORE MONEY

LOST
gha? hi?a?sgini ade:lv gv: wani: [yoJhu:sé:lv
now this, in particular money been lost by them, they
tshune:la ade:lv tso?asgo: iyad4:n(v)dhe?dhi [?9}
eight money thirty cents (successive)
i:gd:? [] gho:hi?sgini udvnv :isdigw6 tsu?di: yi
in all now, in particular ready, he to put them down (hard), he
aye: hii tsa: li tsuwe: dha?ni [*!]
central Tsa:li Tsuwe: dha?ni
28 a?’nu:yi 1853 ayy ghanohi: yadv
28 March 1953 Ghanohi: yadyv

go:wé:lv: ga [22]
[just wrote it

FREE TRANSLATION

Now! This money that they lost, $8.30 in all, Tsa:li Tsuwe:-
dha?ni is now ready to repay to the council.

23“Thoughts,’ dominant in Oklahoma.

30 Alternate with 7: gda:i.

31‘ He-Has-Poles-Sticking-in-the-Ground.’

83 Rather generally alternate with go: wé:la:gd.

18 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLb. 196
I, Ghanohi:yadv, just wrote this March 28, 1853.

COMMENTARY

The careless or defalcating treasurer is institutional in all societies.
There can be little doubt that the Tsa:l1 Tsuwe:dha?ni here and the
Tsa:li and Tsa:lié:gwa of previous documents are all the same indi-
vidual. The identity of the intermediary who wrote this letter is
never established. The name, although untranslatable, appears to be
masculine. The writer may have been a clansman of the treasurer;
the addressee was almost certainly a council official, perhaps Jno:li
himself.

The ‘they lost them’ is probably in reference to Tsa:li’s household.

The Mooney annotation reads: ‘“‘Charley Tsuwéttni lost $8.30.”

NO. 6.—EXPLANATION OF THE TREASURER

(ON RECTO)
gha? na: gwo [*3] hitsv :niwe? di: tsilawi: gi
now now this I say to you (pl.) you (pl.) meeters
a: tsadhigw6 tsagiw6 :nisv: gi adi:na V¥:dla [54]
much, just which I did talk but not
yitsigd : dhahé :i nu: hi(i)sdanid6 :lv ade:lv tso?i
I knew not (w.p.k.) then it happened money three
n4:dodagwa dha?li yelf:da uni: [hd]gwo
weeks two or they have it (hard), just
na:gwu [9] nv’ ghi di: gwada:n(v)dhv gho zhi [3°]
now four my thoughts now
na:sgini tsigi iga:hi:yu higi
that, in particular it is clear, quite this it is
hi?ge: lia agwo: hiy(u) di:sgi u:nanug6:tsv
this I think my witness he appeared
na:sgihye:hno nu: sdi ghilo ya: gh(a)dhaha
that, for the way someone if he knows
go:ht:sdi a:hni gahl(i)tso:de hi:sgi
something here house five
ade:lv uni: yo:hu:sv:gi agayv:ligé:i gane: lv [37]
money have been lost, they old woman her home
v:dla yigadhy : dasdisgé :i duyu:gh(o)dvhno:
not I was not listening to her (w.p.k.) true, and
gesé:i goli:gv adi:na a:se 6:sdvgw6
it was (w.p.k.) I understood but perhaps good, just
nvdv:anv:ne:li ge:li’a u:tsadhigw6
then they will make it I believe much, just

33 ‘At this time.’

34 This form is now almost universally the accepted one for the Western dialects, although there exists
some evidence to support the postulate that o:tsv was once standard in some of them. The latter form
was, and is, dominant in North Carolina.

35 Alternate with na:gwo and hna:gwo in both the East and the West.

36 Upon this occasion.

37 The manuscript has ghane:go, which we assume to be an error.

No wel EAE. CHRONICLES OF WOLFTOWN—KILPATRICK 19

agilidé:sdisgé :i ayv gha? na:sgigwo

I was mistaken (w.p.k.) I now that, just

igd:i go:wé:lv: ga ayv tsa:li wa:huhu
all I just wrote it I Tsa:li Wa: huhu

tsagoli: ye: di

to read it, you

(ON VERSO)
hi?a?sgini gohwe:li tsa :li utse:li: ga
this, in particular letter Tsa :li his

FREE TRANSLATION
(ON RECTO)

Now! This I say to you members: I talked a great deal. I did
not know what happened to the money 2 or 3 weeks ago. They now
have $4. Itis quite clearinmy mind now. My witness has appeared.
That is the way it is when someone knows something. Five dollars
were lost here at the house—the home of the old woman. I did
not listen to what she was saying, but I understand it was the truth.
Perhaps they will make it right. I believe I was much mistaken.

Now! This is all that I, Tsa:li, just wrote for you, Wa:huhu, to
read.

(ON VERSO)

This is Tsa:li’s letter.

COMMENTARY

Although it is undated, this letter must surely have been written
within weeks of the preceding document since it conveys T'sa:li’s
somewhat muddled explanation of his loss of council funds. Speck
and Schaeffer (1945, p. 175) mention a chief and a body of 12 men
(councilmen) who administered the affairs of a Cherokee township.
That there was also a judge, an individual who fulfilled a function
distinct from that of the chief, is evidenced by the consistent manner
in which the two terms digu:gh(o0)di:sgi (‘the one who decides them’)
and u:gvwiyu:hi (‘the principal one’) are employed. This letter
was addressed to Wa:huhu (‘Screech-owl’), whom we know from
other documents to have been the Wolftown judge at the approxi-
mate date of Z’sa:l’s communication.

The verso notation is in the handwriting of Jno :li, who at this
time must have been serving as Wolftown clerk.

Mooney’s identification is: ‘Letter from Tsali for W4buht.”

NO. 7.—EXTENSION OF TIME IN WHICH TO REPAY A LOAN

nv:ddide:gwa 18ne i:ga 1853 ude: dhiyV:sadi:sv [8
November 18th day 1853 year

88 The first syllable is erroneously written #.

20 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY (BULL. 196

gha? hi?a?sgini tsa: li udho:hl(a)sv ale
now this, in particular Tsa:li he borrowed it and
gvwayohu:sé:lv uni:tsadhy [9 uni: hne?gwo:tsv tsu?di

been lost by him, they many they increased to put them down (hard), he
iyanv:do ido:hi:dv

month let you (pl.) and me extend it

gesvii $17 20 ani:se:n(i)si niga: ga uni: hne? gwo:tsv
it is $17.20 cents then it totals they increased
igv:yi:yi $13 ade:lv gesv: gi na:sgihno: 6
first $13 money it was that, and 6
iyanv:do ga:ghahnv:hi niga :hl(i)sda niga:dv
months set, it it just became all
datse:[hi]sdi:sgv uni: hne’gwo:tsv: hi unihné:tsvdi (4
being renewed by him, they the increased, they to tell him, they

$18 15 ani:se:n(i)si wige:s[di: lV: di

$18.15 cents to put them (flex.) in over there, you (dual)

FREE TRANSLATION

Now! Upon what Tsa:li borrowed and upon what he lost the
interest he is to pay has greatly increased. Let us extend the time
foramonth. It has increased from what at first was $13.00 to $17.20.
It was set at 6 months. In renewing it all, they are to tell him that
what the two have to repay will increase to $18.15.

COMMENTARY

The above mentioned Tsa:li is indubitably the same individual as
the unreliable treasurer of previous documents. One doubts that he
was still incumbent when he was granted the loan under discussion,
but nevertheless he appears to have been considered innocent of
criminal intent: after all, he was granted a loan, either by the
Wolftown Council or the Gadu:g(2), and a very substantial one at
that by Wolftown standards. Very likely a part of the money
borrowed was for the purpose of restoring that lost. At any rate,
on November 18 Jsa:li was much in arrears, and we see that a
dispensation was made. The ‘what the two have to repay’ indicates
that Tsa:lc and some other person, perhaps the “‘old women” (Tsa:li’s
mother?) mentioned in the preceding document, were considered to
be jointly responsible for the missing sum of money.

From many documents in The Inoli Letters we receive the impres-
sion that the Eastern Cherokee were hard pressed to obtain ready
cash. ‘They traded such products as pelts, herbs, dried fruit, feathers,
and wool at the Will Thomas post at Qualla for coffee, sugar, calico,
and other commodities that they could not produce (Russell, MS., 1956, p,

39 The second syllable is erroneously written ne.

40 The second syllable is erroneously written ésc.
41 The second syllable is erroneously written na,

A it CHRONICLES OF WOLFTOWN—KILPATRICK 21

188), but cash itself was hard tocome by. The sale of ginseng appears
to have been one of their chief sources of revenue, and Russell (ibid.,
p. 185), informs us that in the year 1834 alone the Qualla trading
post accepted in excess of 4,300 pounds of this root.

The handwriting of this document is that of Sdhi:wi. Since there
is no internal evidence that would assist us in determining whether
Tsa:li’s debt was to the Wolftown Council of the Gagu:g(i), Mooney’s
caption may be correct: ‘‘Record of Company Loan WW.”

NO. 8.—_SDHI:WI WRITES ON WOLFTOWN POLITICS

hi?a?sgini dagowé:la:ni guyé:gwo:ni 8 i:ga
this, in particular I will write July 8 day
hi?a? asdanv:nanf:da:sdi aye:hli é:hi na: gw6 :sginf
this to scribble, one central it belongs now, in particular
agwv:nv:ga [#2] ayv sdhi: wi nt :lagwé

Iam in a hurry I Sdhi: wi hurry, you (imp.), just
sgide:lv:ha a:yVhye:hné agh(a)sdanv:nanf:da:sdi
give it (long) tome, you (imp.) _I, for to scribble, I

a:hni tsddi:sdi gesé:sdi ale nu:lagw6é

here to leave it (ong), you it will be and hurry, you (imp.), just
agwv:nv:ga [4] na:sgi 4:ghw(a)do?di [#] agh(a)sdanv:nani:da:sdi
Tam in a hurry that to use it, I to scribble, I

ge:sv:i gha? na:sgigwo i:gasi go:wé:lv:g4
it is now that, just ali I just wrote it
ayv sdhi: wi ino:li tsago:li:ye:di gesé:sdi ghilo

I Sdhi:wi Tno:li to read it, you it will be someone
di:si:na:sdv [*] gohwe:li gesé:sdi ago:li:yé:?v
proficient, one letter it will be let him read it
na: gwo ino: li wiganv:di gesé:sdi ale
now Ino:li over there to send it (flex.) one it will be and
ghanitsu:hwa:yagw6 [#4] hi?lu?tsv na:sgi tsago:li:ye:di
fishinghawk-place, just when you come (cond.) that to read, you
gesé:sdi na:sgigwo ghilo atshi: tsagw6
it will be that, just someone boy, just
wuny:di gesé:sdi hi?a? gohwe:li
over there to send it (fiex.), he it will be this letter
ino:li ugo:li:ye:di na:sgihno: i:gitsv:sv [*]

Ino:li to read, he that, and when I turn back (cond.)
agihny :sdi gesé:sdi na:sgi i:ga {:tsiw6 : nid
to carry it (flex.), I it will be that day you (pl.) talk
wabhya ga:da:v gé:i wabhy6:hi digo: we: li:sgi [4°]
wolf town I belong wolf-place clerk, I
agiye:lv:ha gada:nv:dhe:sgv:i gége:sdisgini:di:n4 [47]
I believe I was thinking to go I, in particular, surely

42 The second syllable is erroneously written wo.

48 Inasmuch as proficiency is conceived to be expressed in multiple actions, this word takes a plural form.

44 This spelling possibly reflects a dialectal divergence from what is accepted as standard, and it stands
here as written by Sdhi: wi.

45 The first syllable is erroneously written hi.

46 “The-one-who-writes-them.,’

47 The penultimate syllable is erroneously written de.

22

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY

[BuLL. 196

gha? un{:tsadhi gvgilv : ghw(o)dhanv geniyv: wi [*]
now many they loved me our people
ani:sgayegv :sdasginihye:hn6é gvghiné: tshe:lv nasgw06 : di: na
leaders, in particular, for they chose me also, surely
¥:dhla nigd:dv yige:sé:i nv: w(a)sdv: gi alé:no:hny
not all ifit were (w.p.k.) then it did appear and, furthermore
nigi:dv yigi iyu:sgini ani:sgayegV:sda ani:sgwddi:hlv

all ifit is if, in particular leaders when they finish (cond. )
a:yvle [4] na:sgwo hi?tsi:sgwidi:hly [5°] degé: we: li:sgv
I, and also this, when I finish (cond.) writing them, I
anino:hna niga : hl(i)sdi:sgv nu:dale digo: hwe:li:sgi
they tell happening, it different clerk, he
iyu:hl(i)sdo?di hi?gesé:sdi adi:na o:gin(a)dagé:nadhv:n(e)di
to become, it this it will be not to race, he and I

gesé:sdi alé:no:hnyv a’se:ga:tsv:

it will be and, furthermore by accident
hi?agigo:na:dh(v)dhanv [*] na :sgisgini idi: gad¥:n(e)di

this, he outran me that, in particular to do, we

hi?gesé: sdi wahhyé: [hi] ga:du:v ale ¥ :dhla

this it will be wolf-place town and not

duyu: gh(d)dv yino: g4dv:hné aneli:sv

right if he does to us (cond.) when they think (cond.)
na:sgigwo hi?ya:gwadv :[n(e) di hi?gesé:sdi adi:na

that, just this, if to do, I this it will be not

aise ghilo o:gin(a)dagé:nadhv:n(e)di gesé:sdi

perhaps someone to race, we it will be
a:yvhye:hné tsiga: dhahna: [f] yigi ase:gw6:2wo

I, for informed, I if it is in vain

ghv¥ :nisgini unf:tsadhi gv[gilgo:hwa:dhv:di [*]

unless many to see me, they

gesé:sdi udo:hiyu ye:li nogady : hnisf aneli:sv

it will be truly quite a bit he just did for us when they think (cond. )
nd:yo:g6 O:si agiyé:hl(v)di gesé:sdi vigddv

then good to feel, I it will be I said

gha? na:sgigwo i:ga:i tsiw6 : ni: hi wahhy 6: hi gé:i

now that, just all I just talked wolf-place I belong
ayv sdhi: wi ino:li tsago:li:ye:di gesé:sdi hi?a?

I Sdhi: wi Ino : li to read, you it will be this
gohwe:li guyé:gwo:ni 8 i:ga, go:wé:lv: ga ayy

letter July 8 day I just wrote it I

sdhi: wi

Sdhi : wi

FREE TRANSLATION
T will write this on July 8th.

I, Sdhi: wi, am in a hurry for the pencil that belongs to the township.
Hurry and give it to me to scribble with. Leave it here—and hurry:

Tam ina hurry to use it to scribble with.

48 This is an interesting archaism.

49 An elision of ayv and ale.

50 The penultimate syllable is erroneously written do.

51 The spelling is somewhat garbled, ga standing for agi.
52 The last syllable is erroneously written dv.

a age CHRONICLES OF WOLFTOWN—KILPATRICK 23

Now! That is all that I, Sdhi:wi, just wrote for you, Ino:li, to
read. Let someone proficient in letters read it. Now, Jno:li, it
will be sent over there to Fishinghawk Place, and when you come, you
will read it. Some boy will take this letter over there for Ino:li to
read, and when I come back, I will bring it, that day when all of you
talk in Wolftown where I belong and am the clerk. In my mind I
believe that I will go over there.

Now! Many of our people loved me, for the leaders chose me—
not all of them, it appears, but it might have been all of them—and if
the leaders finish, I will also finish my writings. They tell about that
there is going to be a different clerk. He and I are not to have a race,
and, furthermore, he could accidentally beat me. This is what we will
do in Wolftown, and when they think he does not do the right thing for
them, then this is what I will do: I won’t run against anyone. I am
informed uselessly unless many can see me, and when they think,
“Truly he did quite a bit for us,” I said, ‘Then I will feel good.”

Now! That is all that I, Sdhi: wi, from Wolftown have just talked
about for you, Ino:li, to read.

I, Sdhi: wi, just wrote this letter July 8th.

COMMENTARY

Although Sdhi: wi does not state the year in which he was writing,
we surmise that it was 1854 or earlier. Jno:li appears to have been
clerk in 1855.

Sdhi:wi’s letter, replete with verbal posturing, drops engrossing
hints of the political structure in Wolftown. The following aspects are
suggested:

1. There was an option as to the clerk being appointed or elected, or what
is far more probable, Sdhi:wi was appointed to fill an unexpired term:
“. . for the leaders [i.e., members of the Council] chose me. .. .”

2. The terms of some, perhaps all, of the officials expired simultaneously:
“|. . and if the leaders finish, I will also finish. . . .”

3. There were formal contests for office: “. . . he could accidentally beat
me,” and “. . . I won’t run against anyone.”

4. Officials could succeed themselves.

We cannot identify Fishinghawk Place. It may have been where
Ino:li lived, perhaps on Soco Creek. Cherokee place names are apt
to be plentiful and specific.

One might be amused at the concept of the official township pencil
were it not for the economic condition connotated.

Mooney’s caption is a problem, but it may be: “Meth. mission
Stiwi wants return of Lead Pencil—WW.” If this reading be correct,
the reference to Echota Methodist Mission is obscure.

24 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLn. 196

NO. 9.—LETTER FROM SDHI:WI TO INO:LI CONCERNING SCHOOL
AND FODDER-PULLING

(ON RECTO)

duli:sdi [53] 13ne i:ga 1854 hude: dhiyV:sadi:sv
September 13th day 1854 this year

gha? hi?a?’sgini ino:li gvyowela:si gha?
now this, in particular Tno:li Ijust wrote you now
hi?a? nuwe:sv:gi u:gvwiyu:hi digé: hyo?di tsinu: hl(i)sdanv
this he did say chief to teach them, one which it became
sdhi: wi dila:sge:sgi dighuyi:sgihno: na:sgi
Sdhi: wi Dila:sge:sgi Dighuyi:sgi, and that
udo: hiyti: hi hi: tsihné: tshe gint:d(v)di
truly this you (pl.) spoke (w.p.k.) one-fourth
da:nigv: wahl(o)da u:sgwaniyé:[dv]hyehné: ditsé:hyo?di

they priced them U:sgwaniyé:dv, for to teach you (pl.), he
udv:hnvgi yitsihné: ga [54] hi?a?hno:
he did state if you (pl.) spoke this, and
u:sgwaniyé:dv wa:sdé:1(v)di se:lu:gwo
U:sgwaniyé:dv over there to help him, one corn, just
digal(a)sdhuwé6: hedi hi?gesé: sdi a:nadv
to pull off the leaves for him, one this it will be they said
udv:hnvgi ghila ho: wa:gwo agwadv:hnvgi
he did state then all right, just I did state
na:sgigwo gesé:sdi agwadv:hnvgi gha? gho:hihno:
that, just it will be I did state now now, and
tsigi hi?a? nu:sdi hi?gd: dhv:giha u:sdi galogé:sv
it is this the way this I hear small field
gasdhadht:e?df hi?a? tsa: di:sgv higi

to pull fodder for him, one this what he was talking about this it is
hi?ade: nuwe:sv:gi tsusdi: gwohyehné: do: gi:lo:gi [*]

this one he did say small ones, just, for fields, we have (plane)
un(a)dv:hnv un(a)dv:hnvgi tsigo:hno nigd:e?
they stated they did state I wonder that much
hagilid4: sdhané? tsino: gisé:lv hi?a?hno:
this I mistook (w.p.k.) I told him this, and
naniwe:ha v:dhla dig6:dhv:sdi yigi
now they say not to burn them, one ifit is
yiga:l(a)sdhuwé:v an(a)di:sgoi gha?
if one pulls off the leaves they say (hab.) now
ho: wagwo [5°] duyu:gh(o)dvgwo da:sgihi?se:li

all right, just right, just you (pl.) will kill it, mine
aise na:sgi nvda:sgiy4: dhv[ga: Jne:li

I suppose that then you (pl.) will hear about it from me
iyi: hno wi: tsalé:nv:hnv hi?a?hno: aye: hli
if, and over there when you (pl.) begin this, and central
di: gwo:hwe:la:ny:hi dvtsiné: ts(v) dhani [°7] nigd: dv [5]
my writings you (pl.) will speak of it all

53 There is a superfluous i after the second syllable, probably a device to prolong the vowe Jin li.
54 The last syllable is erroneously written ge.

55 The spelling of this word, du:ge: logi, appears to be garbled.

56 The first syllable is written ha. This is acceptable, but ho is standard.

57 The second syllable is erroneously written tsa.

58 Of a quantity.

a al CHRONICLES OF WOLFTOWN—KILPATRICK 25

nitsv :ne:hahnv na:sgigwo gesé:sdi
then you (pl.) make it (imp.) that, just it will be
hi?tsa:n(e)tsvdhé:sdigw6:hyehn6é sginé:tshe:l¥
this to remember you (pl.), just, for you (pl.) asked me
dagwade:hyo?ny:i da: gwo:hwe:la:nv¥:hno gha? ino:li
there I taught there I wrote, and now Tno:li
gohwe:li disginv:ne:lv:h4é gho:higwo tsa: hli: ye?li: [59]
letter you must send it to me now, just this week

na:sgi tsadv:n(e)di gesé:sdi na: gwéhyehné u:sgwalv:hv
that to do, you it will be now, for the time
ga:l(a)sdhuwosdi: yi hitsiy6 :isdanv udé6:dagwadv [9]
to pull off the leaves, one this you (pl.) stopped all day
na:gwohno: usv: hiyé: gwo detso: dvlv na:sgigwo
now, and late afternoon, mountains, your that, just
gesé:sdi gha? ino:li tsagoli: ye: di hi’a? gohwe: li
it will be now Ino: li to read, you this letter

ayv sdhi: wi go:wé:lv:g4

I Sdhi: wi I just wrote it

(ON VERSO, FIRST NOTATION)

gha? hi?a?sgini tsi:sgwani:da niga: v [%]
now this, in particular Tsi:sgwani:da all
gohi:sdi gv:né?di

something to give you (hard), I

(ON VERSO, SECOND NOTATION)

hi?a? ino: li higoliyé:v:ha go:hl(i)tsv:
this Ino: li this you must read understood, it
iyG:hno: gets6 : hli: sdf gesé:sdi

if, and to understand it (cond.), you it will be

FREE TRANSLATION

(ON RECTO)
September 13, 1854

Now! Jno:li, I wrote you this letter.

Now! This is what the chief said: “It has become time for him
to teach them. Sdhi:wi, Dila:sge:sgi, and Di:ghuyt:sgi, it is true that
you have set the fee at $0.25. U-sgwaniyé:dv is to teach all of you,
if all of you say so,” he stated. “This U:sgwaniyé:dv will have to be
helped with his corn fodder-pulling,” they say he stated.

“Allright, then,’ I stated. “Letit be this way,” Istated. ‘Now!
Now | hear that it is this way: that it is a small field that we are to
pull fodder in.” This is what he was talking about.

This is what he said: ‘‘ ‘We have just small fields,’ they have said
that they said.”

59 There is a superfluous final syllable i (see footnote 53, p. 24).

60 The second syllable is erroneously written go.
61 Of several quantities of intrinsically different natures.

26 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 196

“YT wonder how I made such a mistake,” I told him. “This is
what they say: ‘When one pulls the fodder he doesn’t have to burn
it,’ they always say. Now! All right! I suppose all of you will
kill my doing the right thing.”

All of you over there will hear about it from me. When all of you
over there begin, you will speak to the Council of my writings. All of
you make it that way. Letit be thus. All of you remember that you
asked me. I taught and I wrote.

Now! Jno:li, this week you must write me a letter. That you
must do. But now it is time to pull the fodder.

“All of you have stopped all day, and now it is late afternoon in
your mountains.”

Now! Jno-:li, this letter that I, Sdhi:wi, just wrote is for you to
read.

(ON VERSO, FIRST NOTATION)

Now! Tsi:sgwant:da, I am to give you everything.

(ON VERSO, SECOND NOTATION)

You must read this, Jno:li. If you can understand it, let it be
understood.
COMMENTARY

Sdhi:wi’s gossipy letter is replete with confidences difficult to
enter into by an outsider over a century later. The three individuals
addressed by the township chiefi—Sdhi:wi, Dila:sge:sgi (‘One-Who-
Tramps’), and Di: ghuyt:sgi (‘(One-Who-Pays’)—may be the personnel
of a school board of sorts. If the teacher, U-sgwaniyé:dv (‘He-
Observed-It-With-Amazement’), could not begin his tutorial duties
until he had his farm work done, it is not clear why it became the
duty of Sdhi:wi (and probably the other two aforementioned) to
assist him. That there was such an obligation is attested to by:
“All of you [councilmen] made it that way.”

Certainly Sdhi:wi is not happy with the arrangement, and he
prompts Jno-:li to air the matter in the Wolftown Council. And
one gathers that Sdhi:wi was U:sgwaniyé:dv’s predecessor as teacher:
“T taught and I wrote (i.e., I was also the clerk),’’ he states.

The ‘All of you have stopped all day, etc.”’ appears to be a quotation
from an equally disenchanted U:sgwaniyé:dv. The verso reference
to Tsi:sgwant:da (‘Young Birds’) is entirely obscure.

The literature gives us no information as to what sort of school was
maintained on Qualia Boundary in 1854, and we add very little
knowledge from The Inoli Letters. We may be sure that it did not
measure up to the standards of the Western Cherokees. Since it is
quite unlikely that many of the children knew much English, the

Now) CHRONICLES OF WOLFTOWN—KILPATRICK 27

principal instructional materials may have been such portions of the
Bible that had been printed and the ‘‘Cherokee Primer,” available in
Park Hill editions of 1839, 1840, 1845, 1846, and 1854 (Harerett,
1951, p. 59).

Sdhi:wi does not state from where he was writing, but it was
doubtlessly at some distance from where Jno:li lived, perhaps from
some township other than Wolftown.

Mooney’s identification reads: ‘“‘Steve to Black Fox School Should
Begin after Fooder Pulling.”

NO. 10.—TAX ROLL AND RECORD OF LOANS

ude: dhiyV:sadi:sv hi?a? aghuyv:hv anaghuyi:sgi [®]
year this paid, it those who pay
nanf : hv 1855 hi?a? nusdV¥: gi [®] nani:hv
in number, they 1855 this the way it was in number, they
hi?i:ga:? anaghuyi:sgv: gi 45
this all they were paying $0.45
yo:niwo: hla a:si u:ni:li:la [6] 45
Yo:ntwo:hla still they do not finish $0.45
tsuna:sdala 45
Tsuna:sdala $0.45
ul(i)se?go:gi:dv 45
Ul(i)se?go:gi:dv $0.45
de: nili 30
De:nili $0.30
dalo:nige 45
Dalo:nige $0.45
dihye:lid6: hi 15
Dibye:lid6:hi $0.15
tsumi [?]5
Tsumi $0.[?]5
ne:wadv 35
Ne: wadv $0.35
da: gwadi:hi 45
Da:gwadi:hi $0.45
hi?a?hno: u:l(i)sgwalv:di aghuyv:hv hi?a?
this, and the time paid, it this
ude: dhiyv:sadi:sv¥ 1856 nani:hv a:nihv:sgv
year 1856 in number, they put down hy them, it (hard)
hi?a? ay geho: gi 80 ani:se:n(i)si
this all usual amount 80 cents
da: gwadi:hi a:si ulu:la 55
Da:gwadi:hi still he does not finish $0.55

a:ghuyv [*] a:?ghali:?

he just paid in full

2 The last syllable is erroneously written gv.

83 A superfluous wi follows the proper final syllable.

64 The “‘they’’ possibly refers to the whole household of Yo: ntiwo: hid.

8 This form of the “recent past’”’ tense is consistently spelled with a final yv instead of ya, as one would
expect. It must have been so pronounced.

28

de: nili
De:nili
tsa:li
Tsa:li
hi?a?
this
u:wa:wo:sidi [67)
U:wa:wo:sidi

tsv: datsi
Tsv:datsi

du :nawi

Du:nawi
dihye:lid6é:hi [*]
Dibye:lid6:hi

ade:lv
money

a: ghuyv a:?ghali:?
he just paid in full
gu:la:tsi
Gu:la:tsi
a:ghuyv a:?ghali:? 85
he just paid in full $0.85
ga:gama
Ga:gama
u:dan(i)du:da
U:dan(i)du:da
a:ghuyv a: ?ghali:?
he just paid in full

gano:hiya:dy
Gano:hiy4:dv
dayun6é:hyv:li
Dayund:hyv:li
wi:l(i)sini sga:tsi
Wi:1(i)sini Sga:tsi
wa: guli
Wa:guli
tso:tsaga adho:la ade:lv
Tso: tsaga he just borrowed money
u:wa?nv a:ghuyv udho:1(a)sv hi?ade:lv
U:wa?nv he just paid borrowed, it this money
a’hw/(i) daya:[i] adho:la ade:lv guwo:ni
A?hw(i)daya:i he just borrowed money April

i:ga 1857

day 1857
wahhyani:da adho:la ade: lv guwo: ni
Wahhyani:da he just borrowed money April

i:ga 1857

day 1857

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY

udho:l(a)sv duli:sdi [®] Ilne
he borrowed September llth
udho:1l(a)sv
he borrowed
adho:la ade:lv
he just borrowed money

[BULL. 196

2[?]
$0.27]
80
$0.80

1858
1858
95
$0.95
85
$0.85

35
$0.35

45
$0.45

i:ga
day

86
$0.86
95 [o]
$0.95

5 [70 ]
$0. 05
45

$0. 45

90
$0. 90

95
$0. 95

100
$1, 00
5 [7]
$0. 05

30
$0. 30

100 [7°]
$1.00

24ne
24th

100
$1.00

24ne
24th

100
$1. 00

68 There is a superfluous i following the second syllable.
7 There is a superfluous ha following the third syllable.
63 This name is crossed out.

89 The significance of these numerals is conjectural.

7 This entry is crossed out.

RT EBOR PAP. CHRONICLES OF WOLFTOWN—KILPATRICK 29

di: gahl(u) ghwade: gi adho:la ade:lv defhaJlu: yi [74]
Di:gahl(u)ghwade:gi he just borrowed money June
2ne i:ga 1857 100 30 yi["] u?hnegwo:tsv hi’a?
2d day 1857 $1. 30 it increased this
[illegible] adho:la ade:lv de[ha]lu: yi [illegible]
[illegible] he just borrowed money June [illegible]

i:ga 1857 [72]

day 1857
tsv:datsi a:si ulu:la agwali:hehn6:hiya:sf
Tsv:datsi still he does not finish I just had this left over
dehalu: yi 21
June 21st
gha? hi?a? wi:1(i)sini adho:la ade:lv aye: hli
now this Wi:1(i)sini he just borrowed money central
a:?hv [8] $[?].15 duni:n(o) dhi 6ne i:ga 1858
it (hard) there $[?]. 15 October 6th day 1858
a:ghuyv wi:1(i)sini a:ghuyv a: ?ghali:?
he just paid Wi:1(i)sini he just paid in full
a:si hi:sgiani:se:n(i)si ["] ga?lohni gha?ly
still five cents August month
24ne i:ga 5
24th day $0. 05
hi?a? gha: tsi adhlo:la ade:lv 2
this Gha:tsi he just borrowed money $2. 00
nv:ddide: gw4 10ne i:ga 1858 [75]
November 10th day 1858
gha? hi?a? sa: ladi ade:lv adho:la 96
now this Sa:ladi money she just borrowed 96
ani:se:n(i)si ny :dide:gwa gha?ly 20ne
cents November month 20th
i:ga ayy ino:li go: wé:la:g4
day I Tno:li I just wrote it
gha? hi?adho:la ade:lv 250 u:1(a)sdu:hi
now this he just borrowed money $2.50 U:1(a)sdu:hi
vsghi: yi 16ne i:ga 1858 a’nv:yi gha?ly
December 16th day 1858 March month
u:ghuy(v)di 20ne i:ga 1859 ayv ino:li
to pay, he 20th day 1859 I Ino: li
go: wé:la: ga [7]

I just wrote it

70a This entry is crossed out.

71 The meaning of this abbreviation is not known to us.

72 This entry is crossed out

73 Variant of a: %hv:i and a: vi.

74 This word and the preceding one are crossed out.

75 This entry is crossed out.

76 All ofthis entry except the first two words is crossed out.

747-014 66——_3

30 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 196
FREE TRANSLATION

In the year 1855, this was the amount paid by the taxpayers:
$0.45. ‘This is the amount that they all were paying.

Yo:niwo:hid (still not finished paying) _-______- $0. 45
DST Es NEEL 1) SRS ee ANSE $0. 45
LUST Ops) | ARIS ete eran RPI S ON ee NER $0. 45
19/2) a Res. PT SS YE aa ee NG te $0. 30
Dalomiget... ... . __.... isin ee $0. 45
ABEL SOS (ee SG Ee IO Se en Teac Ae $0. 15
ALTE SS MAE) SC Ge ETE NPIS PR Aly AN $0.[?]5
1A) ERSTE) (A 2 ea a ese See EPG ORAL $0. 35
LON STOO (Oc, ca i a a 0 $0. 45

At the time for paying this year, 1856, they all
paid the usual amount, $0.80.

Da: gwadi: hi (still not finished paying) _________ $0. 55
He just paid in full.

TE Is se Sats Be ee eet eee «Nae $0. 2[?]

ST Dt ee eC ke $0. [?]
This money he borrowed September 11, 1858.

LE 0 SUA 2 Scere ee i Sete, Le $0. 95

Ttdaist. ieWherrowed. 222. S944 2 ae $0. 85

Du:nawi. He just borrowed money_-_________- $0. 35

JONES! 5S) | ane SOS Stee Races al SRP Sa aed nay ie $0. 45
He just paid in full.

EVO TS ee he se SR eo ae $0. 86
He just paid in full. $0.85 $0.95

(€) TASI0] 7) | Read a ent aa Ay Ae NEN gmp Re Co $0. 05

Peeaay (by dab: Oar ee. ee i A eae $0. 45
He just paid in full.

Gono -higieay. oR se $0. 90

Dayundetiyo sti. BORN __ pth. BOS. $0. 95

WL (e) Sint. Sadsiste 225. ge ee $1. 00

SOT eee ees ae nee Me eee Ne $0. 05

Tso:tsaga. He just borrowed money___-_-__-_-- $0. 30

U:wainv. He just paid. He borrowed this
MONGY so. see ee a a eh oie ee $1. 00

A?hw(i)daya:1. He just borrowed money, April
LR oY a a ae nee aeare cere cs Poo $1. 00

Wahhyani:da. He just borrowed money, April
LE IN ho 2) ne Le er aes ee ee Kee $1. 00

Row ee CHRONICLES OF WOLFTOWN—KILPATRICK 31
Di:gahl(u)ghwade:gi. He just borrowed money,
June 2, 1857. With the interest it was this___ $1. 30
[illegible]. He just borrowed money, June
[illegible], 1857
Tsv:dats. (still not finished paying)

E hadithisileft over, June: 21st22..- 225.1 ee $[?]. 21
Now! Wi:l()sint has just borrowed money
fro -bowiertes funds 22S eee eo Sd $[?]. 15

On October 6th W2:1(2)sini just paid in full.
Wi:1(2)sini has just paid in full the $0.05 he
still owed, August 29th.
Gha:tsi just borrowed money November 10, 1858_ $2. 00
Now! Sa-:ladi just borrowed money November

I, Ino:li, just wrote this.
Now! U-l(a)sdu:hi just borrowed this money
December 160@56vitu_. ... 2... _Uaieiew___ $2. 50
He is to repay it March 20, 1859.
I, Ino:li, just wrote this.

COMMENTARY

The present document, much crossed out and blotted and therefore
quite difficult to read, is in the handwriting of Jno:li and deals with
debts of two categories: those to the State of North Carolina (land
taxes), and those to what would appear to be the Wolftown Council
(personal loans chiefly incurred, one surmises, for the purpose of
paying State taxes).

Inasmuch as no Indian could legally own land within the State of North
Carolina until 1866 (Mooney, 1900, p. 159), all of the lands of the Chero-
kees there were recorded in the name of their benefactor and unofficial
head, Will Thomas (see Russell, MS., 1956, passim). Although the legal
fiction of Thomas’ ownership had to be maintained, with their own
money some of the Cherokees had bought their holdings. Ino-:li
acted as the agent of Thomas in collecting taxes from the Indians that
resided in Jackson County.

The hodgepodge of memoranda here, with entries spanning the
years from 1855 to 1859, is typical not only of Jno-:li’s bookkeeping
but that of Cherokees in general. It is not without systematic
organization, as might appear. Olbrechts (Mooney and Olbrechts,
1932, p. 157) marvels at the ability of the medicine man to find a
needed formula in a book that was a jungle of “. . . notes of historical
interest, not to speak of tribal records, such as births, deaths, acci-
dents, etc.”’ as well as a depository for curing charms.

3 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLy. 196

2

Mooney’s caption: “Old Money Payments,
subject to misinterpretation.

although accurate, is

NO. 11—NOTE CONCERNING SOME PIGS

hi?a? wa: gigu [77] we:tshahyanv gho:hi i:ga
this Wa:gigu over there he sent for you now day
12 i:ga duni:n(o) dhi gha?lv si:ghwa
12 day October month pig
ghané6: he?di tsughanv:sda?li gv: hnage ayé:hli
to discuss, one boar black small
a:di:ha wa: gigu gé:hya?dhahi a:di:ha
he says Wa:gigu wild he says
udedhiyv :dvgwo s6:hihné: u:dv:hnv
year-old, just another, and he stated
tsughanv:sda?li dha?li iyddedhiyv:dv
boar two years old

a:di:ha wa: gigu uhlv :n(i)dhy na:y6:go
he says Wa:gigu he caught it that one
na:sgi gho:hi ge:li? ga:na?li higi
that now I believe gelding this it is
na:sgi a:di:ha

that he says

FREE TRANSLATION

Wa:gigu sent for you today, October 12th, to talk about a pig—
a small black boar, Wa:gigu says. He says it is wild, just a year old.
Another boar, 2 years old, Wa: gigu says he caught.

“Now I think that one is a gelding,” he says.

COMMENTARY

Ino:li was evidently writing for Wa:gigu who could not write.
The addressee is not designated. It is not clear whether Wa:gigu is
attempting to sell the pigs to the addressee or to get the latter to come
and identify pigs taken up by Wa:gigu. He may be offering the 1-
year-old animal for sale and may be trying to determine ownership of
the 2-year-old.

Although this note is not dated, we hypothesize that circa 1855
would be a likely dating for it.

Mooney’s annotation is wrong: “Unsigned Note to Wagiku-Gahunis
[Gahuni’s] Br. [Brother] to Come WW.”

7 *Gourd.’

eo uee CHRONICLES OF WOLFTOWN—KILPATRICK 33

NO. 12.—ROLL OF ECHOTA METHODIST MISSION

1856
1856
ani: tsa digh(a)dhf: ya da:hyvho
Ani:tsa he watches them he hunts them (hab.)
uniyv:sdi:yi u:nalig6é: hi
to enter, they—place joined together, they

tsa:ni de: hw(i)si [78]
Tsa:ni De:hw(i)si
ani:tsa

Ani:tsa
da:yv:ha
Da:yv:ha

wa:di

Wa:di

ne:ni

Ne:ni

do: yanf:da
Do:yani:da
gelayi:ni
Gelayi:ni
tsi[ni]lv: gi
Tsi[ni]lv:gi

gho: latsusdf: ga [°]
Gho:latsusdi:ga
ada:sude:gi 10 [®]
Ada:sude:gi 10
amatsv:na
Amatsyv:na

hv: gi

Hv:gi

ghola:ha
Ghola:ha

ne: tsili

Ne: tsili

adi:se

Adi:se

gadola:ha
Gadola:ha
v:wo:diy6:hi
V:wo:diy6:hi

da: li

Dali

me: li

Me:li

ali:sa 21

Ali:sa 21

78 Marks of several patterns (the dash, the cross), probably attendance tallies, we have omitted.
79 The last syllable is erroneously written a.
80 The purpose of these numerals is unknown. Some appear to be cumulative totals, others do not.

34 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 196
tse:gi tsi[®']
Tse:gi [?]
i:ydtsaga tsi
T:yAtsagé [?]
ne:si u:yohu:sv guwo:ni 5ne i:ga 1858
Ne:si she died April 6th day 1858
diganv:wedi:sgi tsi
Diganv:wedi:sgi
tsi:gh(i)sv tsi a:yohu:hi defha]lu:yi 25ne i:ga 1858
Tsi:gh(i)sv [?] he just died June 25th day 1858
sa:li ali: tsa [82] tsi unali: go: hv ga?lohni
Sa :li Ali: tsa (?] they joined together witb them August
11 i:ga 1856
11 day 1856
gado:yoe tsi 25
Gado: yoe [?] 25
ulv: hnawo:da u:yohu:sv
Ulv :hnawo: da he died
tsuniyo:hu:sv: 3
which died, they 3
16 100 56 [83]
16 100 56
29
29
hi?a? gho:lanv: yi [*4] na:ni:hv unali: g6: hi
this raven-place in number, they joined together, they (hab.)
45 [*]
45
12 [8]
12
ani: wabhyé6:hi 33
wolf-place, they 33
11
11
ani: wo:di 55
paint, they 55
ani:tse? [87] 26
new ones 26
ani: tse? 1
new ones 1
tsuniyo:[hu:]sv: 2
which died, they 2

81 This syllable, here and elsewhere, is probably an abbreviation of some word of significance to the writer,
but we cannot conjecture as to what the word is.
8 The “‘they”’ that predicated the form of the verb following were seemingly Sa:7i and Gado:yoe. Sa:
Ali :tsa (Sally Leech) is the full name of one individual, not two persons.
83 These numerals, here and in similar places elsewhere, are obviously totals of some sort.
84 This township is now known to the Whites as Big Cove.
8 Probably the total number of adult members from Gho:land : yi.
86 Probably the total number of child members from Gho:lanp:yi.
87 Here, and in the line immediately below, the final syllable is erroneously written tsa.

fora CHRONICLES OF WOLFTOWN—KILPATRICK

21 10

21

u: hli
U:hli
ali:sa
Ali:sa
hi?a? unali:go:hv

this they joined together with them

uniyv: sdf: yi [5]
to enter they, place
lu: yi digh(a)dhi:ya
Lu: yi he watches them
tsa:n(i)sini
Tsa : n(i)sini
se:li 72
Se:li 72
e:ni
E:ni
wi:1(i)sini
Wi:1(i)sini
sa:dayi
Sa:dayi
wa:guli
Wa:guli
gvyu: tse a:yohu:hi
Gvyu: tse she just died
ila: gwi
Ila: gwi
ni: gutse: gi 10
Ni: gutse: gi 10
sa:li
Sa:li
di: gini
Di: gini
sina:sdv
Sina:sdv
ne:li
Ne:li
sa:ladi [°*]
Sa:ladi
wini u:yohu:sv
Wini she died
tsini
Tsini
sa:li
Sa:li

88 The sibilant is erroneously written sa.

ga?lohni
August

30

a OT nm me wo WO

tsun (a) dehl(o) gwa:sdi

which to learn, they

27
27

1858
1858

89 Sa:ladi, Sa:lada, and Sa:ladu are variant spellings, found in The Inoli Letters, of the same name: the

Cherokee form of ‘Charlotte.’

36 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY

wa:huhu 60
Wa:huhu 60

a:yigi

A:yigi

e:ligi 20

E:ligi 20

u:yohu:la u:yohu:sv
U:yohu:la he died
tsiwe:li:si 4 40 20
Tsiwe:li:si 4 40 20
o:hni

O:hni

de: gi

De:gi

a:hyVi:ni u:yohu:sv
A:hyvi:nf he died
u:1(@)sdu:hi

U:1(i)sdu:hi

so: ?gini

So:?gini

ne:n(i)si u:yohu:sv
Ne:n(i)si she died
u:dan(i)du:da

U:dan(i)du:da

du:na:yi u:yohu:sa
Du:na:yi dead, he

li:si u:yohu:sa

Li:si dead, she

e:wi u:yohu:sa

E:wi dead, she

u:lu:tse

U:lu:tse

ne:n(i)si u:yohu:sv
Ne:n(i)si she died
tsi:na?de:i u:yohu:sv
Tsi:na?de:i he [she?] died
tseni:si u:yohu:sv
Tseni:si she died

go: hisdi:sgi

Go:hisdi:sgi

tsi:nayi

Tsi:nayli

du:na:yi 30
Du:na:yi 30
tsi: lawi:se

Tsi:lawi:se

tsu: we:lu:ga

Tsu:we:lu:ga

da: gi

Da:gi

ge:hida

Ge:hbida

[BuLu. 196

Nowe) aaa CHRONICLES OF WOLFTOWN—KILPATRICK

we: gi

We:gi

la:yi:si

La:yi:si

sa:ladu

Sa:ladu

wa:leni:da [°°]
Wa:leni:da

ayV:adhu: ga
Ayv:adhu:g4

a:li 40

A:li 40

wa: ligini

Wa:ligini

de: wi u:yohu:sv
De:wi he died

lu: wayi:sa

Lu: wayi:sé

sa:dayi

Sa:dayi

ge:hy4dho: gf u:yohu:sv
Ge:hy4dho:gi he died
ne: tsini

Ne:tsini

a:li wi:1(i)sini

A:li Wi:1(i)sini

e: tsini

E; tsini

tse: gwadi: hi
Tse:gwAdi:hi
wabhyani:da
Wahhyani:da

tsa:li

Tsa:li

sga :hlilé:sgi 50
Sga:hlilo:sgi 50
yi:si

Yi:si

tse:si 10
Tse:si 10
e:ligi:sani:da
E:ligi:sani:da

lu: w4yi:s4 10
Lu: wiyi:sé 10
lusi:n(i) di

Lusi:n(i)di

gvwahyt:da4 55
Gvywahya:daa 55
da: hw(i)sini

Da:hw(i)sini

This name is crossed out. ‘This member may have been expelled from the church.

37

1858
1858

38

ali:sa

Ali:sa

gudagi:sgi 59
Gudagi:sgi 59
lu:si duli:sdi [®]
Lu:si September
ge: hyahi [*]

Ge:hyahi

e:lini

E: lini

tsi: guWi

Tsi:guwi

gv: sgali:sgi
Qv:sgali:sgi

30
30

23ne
28rd

i:ga
day

tsini 6
Tsini 6
tsini

Tsini
wahhy6:hi

wolf-place

gho:higi [%]
now, this it is
unali: go: hv
they joined together with them
tsu:na[né]l(o) di [%]
Christians, they

ino:li ahl(i)tsid6: hv:sgf
Ino:li one who preaches

tsa: li digh(a)dhi:ya 20
Tsa:li he watches them 20
gawo:hilo:sgi digh(a)dhi: ya

Gawo:hilo:sgi he watches them

tso: tsaga
Tso:tsaga
a:tsi

A:tsi
ne:ni
Ne:ni

vyanu:la
Vyanu:la

fu: Jyohu:sv
he [she?] died
o:hni
O:hni
hv:gi [*]
Hyv:gi

tse: gi
Tse:gi
e:gi

E:gi

u:yohu:sa
dead, he

[u:]Jyohu:sv
she died

e:gi

E:gi
du:ni 10
Du:ni 10

%1 There is a superfluous i following the second syllable.

92 The second syllable is erroneously written hyo.
% A contraction of gho: hi higi.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY

18 [??]
18 [??]

si:oli:go:hnv
still a part of, she
a:ne:hy
living, they

% No truly satisfying translation of this word for ‘Christians’ is possible.

% The final syllable is erroneously written di.

[BULL. 196

ANTHROP. PAP.

No. 75] CHRONICLES OF WOLFTOWN—KILPATRICK

de: nili

De:nili

saya

Saya

si: gawi

Si:gawi

ali:sa

Ali:sa

tsini u:yohu:sv

Tsini she died

usae:dv u:yohu:sv 20
Usae:dv he [she?] died 20
goyi:ne?

Goyi:ne?

galv:da?yi

Galv:da?yi

antwe: gi

Antiwe:gi

a:yéle:i

A:yéle:i

a:ni

A:ni

dvdi:sdi [**] 20

Dvdi:sdi 20

idigv :n(e) di

Idigv: n(e) df

si:li

Si:li

dayun6é: hyv:lf

Dayuné: byv: lf

danvV:n(i)galv: hi

Danv:n(i)galv:hi

a:li da:dayi

A: li Da: dayi

nigawi

Nigawi

o:1(u)tsegi [97]

O:1(u)tsegi

[s]dhi: wi u:yohu:sv

Sdhi:wi he died
[tsu]niyo:hu:sv: 6
which died, they 6
uli: go:hnv gha: ga?li
he [or she] joined February
tsu: dasi

Tsu: dasi

gwe:dh(i)si 30
Gwe:dh(i)si 30

guwo:ni 12

April 12

% We assume this name to be a variant of Dhlodi:sdt.
% The second syllable is erroneously written Ji.

18
18

gha?lv

month

anali:go:hv:g4
they just joined

39

28
28

1855
1855

1857
1857

40

nv: tsi

Nv- tsi

saligi: ni
Saligi: ni

lo:si

Lo:si

do: tsi:14: wi: gi
we just met
da:sgigidi: hi
Da: sgigidi: hi
e:1(i)si

E:1(i)si

do: tsu:1é?hnv
Do: tsu: 16°hnv
wa: dv [%]
Wa:dv
a:ghuya
A:ghuya

sa: mi

Sa:mi

tsulé: gilda
Tsuld :gil
ne:n(i)si
Ne:n(i)si
ts4:n(i)la: tsi
Ts&:n(i)la:tsi
duli:sdi [] 23
September 23rd
wini

Wini

aligi:ni

Aligi:ni

e:ni

E:ni

ne: tsili

Ne: tsili

ga:su:dhé:sgi

Ga:su:dhé:sgi

tsa: ts(i)

Tsa:ts(i)

de[ha]lu: yi
June
alf:go:hv:g4

he just joined

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY

[BuLyu. 196
27ne i:ga 1858
27th day 1858
36 ino: li [°?]
36 Ino:li
10
10
30
30
40
40
i:ga 1858
day 1858
gho:lany: yi u:nalig6:hi 6
raven-place joined together, they 6
tsu:n(a)sdi 12
small ones 12
{ani: wo:di:hi ?]} ih
[paint-place, they ?] 7
[tsu:n(a)sdi ?] 10
[small ones ?] 10

% This is a variant spelling of Wa:di, a feminine name that in conversation would be pronounced with

the final vowel unvoiced.

9 We do not know why Jno-li wrote his name here. Perhaps he was in charge of the meeting on June 27
! There is a superfiuous i following the second syllable.

ee agers Par. CHRONICLES OF WOLFTOWN—KILPATRICK 4]

12 83
12583
100 3
100 3
10
10
tsuniyo:hu:sv: 10 903
which died, they 10 93
adi:na iyV: digegawo: V: hi 21
not been baptised, they 21
31 02
31 02
43
43
111111111111111111111111
11111111111111111111111
11111111111 tsu:n(a)sdi il a 23
small ones ll 7 23
6

FREE TRANSLATION

1856

Ani: tsa—Deacon (he hunts those who belong, to get them to come to
church).

Tsa:ni De:hw(i)si

Ani: tsa

Da:yv:ha

Wa:di

Ne:nr

Do:yani:da

Gelayi:m

Tsinilv: gi

Gho:latsusdi: ga

Ada: sude: gt 10

Amatsv:na

Ho: gr

Ghola: ha

Ne:isili

Adi: se

Gadola: ha

V:wo:diyd:ha

Da:l

Me:li

Ali: sa

Tse: gr

42 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY

I: ydtsaga
Ne:si—she died April 5, 1858
Diganv: wedi: sgu
Tsi:gh(v)sv—he just died June 25, 1858
They joined the Church August 11, 1856
Sa:li Ali:tsa
Gado: yoe 25
Ulv:hnawo:da—he died
Those who died—3
16 100 56
29
This is the number of members from Raven:

From Wolftown:

From Painttown:

New members:

Those who died 2

PAL 10 3
4
5
U:hli
Ali: sa

These are the members of the Sunday School:
Inu:yi—Deacon

Tsa:n(r)sini

Se:li 72
Wi:l(2)sina

Sa: dayt

Wa: guli

Gvyu:tse—she just died August 27, 1858
Tla:gur

Ni: gutse: gi 10
Sa:la

Di: gini

Sina: sdv

Ne: la

[BuLu. 196

Adults
Children

Adults
Children

Adults
Children

Adults
Children

45

A ia CHRONICLES OF WOLFTOWN—KILPATRICK

Sa-lada

Wini—she died

Tsina

Sa:la

Wa-huhu 60
A-:yign

E:ligt 20
U:yohu:la—he died

Tsiwe:li: sv 4 40 20
O:hni

De:gu

A:hyvi:ni—he died

U:1(2)sdu: hi

So: 2gini

Ne:n(i)si—she died

U:dan(1)du:da

Du:na:yi—dead

Ti:si—dead
E':wi—dead
U:lu:tse

Ne:n(i)si—she died
Tsi:na?de:i—he [she ?] died
Tseni:si—she died
Go:hisdi:sgv

Tsi:nayr

Du:na:yr

Tsi: law: se

Tsu: we:lu:ga

Da: gi

Ge: hida

We: gu

La:yi:st

Sa:ladu

Wa: lent: da

Ay: adhu: ga

A:h 40
Wa: hgint

De:wi—he died
Lu:wayi:sd

Sa:dayr
Ge:hyddho:gi—he died
Ne: tsint

Asli Wi:l(i)sini
E:tsint

43

44 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [But 196

Tse: gwdadi: hi
Wahhyani: da
Tsa:la
Sga: hlil6: sgr 50
Yiu:s81
Tse:st 10
E: lig: sani:da
Lu:wiyi: sd 10
Lusi:n(i)di
Gowahyi : dad 55 June 27, 1858
Da: hw(i)sina
Ali: sa
Gudagi:sgi 59 30
Lu: sit September 23, 18[??]
Ge: hyahr
E:lunt
Ts: guwr
Gv: sgali:sgi
Tsina 6
Tsini is still a member
Christian members who live in Wolftown:
Ino:li—Local Preacher
Tsa:li—Deacon 20
Gawo: hilo: sgi—Deacon
Tso: tsaga
A: tsi
Ne:ni
Vyanu:la—he [she ?] died
O:hnr
Ho: gr
Tse: gi—dead
E:g
E’:gi —she died
Du:m 10
De:mili
Saya
Si:gaur
Ali: sa
Tsini—she died
Usae:dv—he [she ?] died 20
Goyi:ne?
Galv: da? yi
Antiwe: gi
A-yéle:t

ANTHROP. PAP.
No. 75]

A:n
Dodi: sdr
Idigv:n(e)di
Si:li
Dayuno: hyv:lé
Dand:n(i)galo: ht
A:li Da:dayi
Nigawi
O:l(u)tsegr
Sdhi: wi—he died
Those who died—6
He [or she] joined February, 1855
Tsu: dasi
Gwe: dh(1)st
They just joined April 12, 1857
No: ist
Saligi: ni
E0280
We just met June 27, 1858
Da: sgigidi: hi—he just joined
E:1(2)st
Do: tsu:lé?hnv
Wa:dv
A:ghuya
Sa:mi
Tsul6 : gil
Ne:n(i)st
Tsé:n(i)la: tsi
September 23, 1858
Wini
Aligi: ni
E:ni
Ne: tstli
Ga:su:dhé:sgr
Tsa: ts(2)
Members from Raven:

Members from Painttown:

12 83
100 3
10

747—-014—66—4

CHRONICLES OF WOLFTOWN—KILPATRICK

30

36 Ino:lh
10
30

40

Adults 6
Children 12

Adults t
Children 10

45

46 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLy. 196

Those who died—10 93
Those not baptised—21
ot 02
43
Children—11 7 23
6
35
COMMENTARY

Among The Inoli Letters there are two other rolls of the members
of Echota Methodist Mission as well as several short lists of names
that may be church committees. One senses an incomplete victory
on Qualla Boundary by the forces of righteousness: On one of the
rolls, opposite the names of several of the members, is the notation
“turned out.”

When reading out a list of names, or calling a roll, it is customary
among the Cherokees to voice final syllables that are unvoiced in
routine conversation, although there are some names that provide
exceptions. It was deemed the better procedure to treat the foregoing
roll as if it were actually being called.

A document in English in The Inoli Letters establishes the fact
that Echota Methodist Mission in Soco Valley existed as early as
September 7, 1850, apparently on or very near the same site now
occupied by the stone Methodist Church on Highway 19. Russell
(MS., 1956, p. 254) informs us that Will Thomas, who was a Methodist,
donated the land for the mission and organized the Sunday School of
the church.

Ino:li’s clerical status is defined by another document in the
collection, his license as a local preacher given on August 25, 1849,
by the Quarterly Conference of the Methodist Episcopal Church,
South, at Waynesville, N.C. The word digh(a)dhi:ya, employed
above, is a troublesome one. To a contemporary Cherokee it means
‘Pastor,’ but in Jno-:li’s time it appears to have had the meaning
we have assigned to it.

The entire Bible has never been translated into Cherokee. All of
the New Testament was translated, but not by 1856-58. It was the
practice of the Mission Press at Park Hill, Cherokee Nation, to issue
newly translated books separately. One of the documents in The
TInoli Letters is a copy in Jno-:li’s handwriting, marred by some
orthographic errors here and there, of Luke 9:23-27. Perhaps he
did not possess a copy of the Cherokee Luke and had extracted this
from one that he had borrowed. Another document in the collection
is an account of the traditional fate of each Apostle. In some respects
it is curiously at variance with accepted traditions. Copies of this

ge ae ea CHRONICLES OF WOLFTOWN—KILPATRICK 47

document are said to have been circulated in manuscript among the
Oklahoma Cherokees.

The church leaders Tsa:li and Ani:tsa are easily identified on the
Terrell Roll. One of the most engrossing documents in the whole of
The Inoli Letters is a touching and noble tribute to Ani:tsa, who
died August 1, 1874. It quotes his valedictory: ‘I talked to sinners
and I prayed for them; and now if I am not able to talk to them, if
now my speaking is past, I am ready to go. All of you know how I
walked here below.’

“Vist of Church Members” is Mooney’s caption.

NO. 13.—REPORT OF A MEETING FOR THE PURPOSE OF
CONSIDERING TAX PROBLEMS

gha? hi?a?sgini danu:gh(o)da a:hni
now this, in particular they just decided here
tsu: hla [2] su: dali iyani:dv ade:lv da:ni:hno:hv:li
Tsu:hla six in a group money they just discussed them
ale danu:gh(o)da V:tsa
and they just decided not
yu:ni:nu:lv:hv:g4 aye: hligwo [5] dha’li iyud4: di:sdi
not defeated, they tax, just two to divide itself
a:nadvgwo wahhy6: hi ale ani: wo:di gha?
the just said, just wolf-place and paint, they now
na:sgigwo uwa:sv dho: hi igv:né:hi danu:gh(o)da
that, just itself well maker they just decided
tsudale: hnv:dv nu :nahl(i)s[d4: ]ne: hy tsunflv :n(a)sdane:lv
various things they are happening to them which they worked
tsisghw6: [hi] na:sgihno: ge:da:su: yagi tso?i
bird-place that, and we just chose them three
iyani:dv ts(i)sgili 6: gwa [4] ayV:adhu: ga ['] tsu:hla
in a group Ts(i)sgili 6:gwa AyV:adhu:ga Tsu:hla
iyani:di:sgi ghi:lahno: unV:SV du: nidu: hv
the ones who divide it then, and themselves towns

uni: hy(a)sdi iyd:nahl(i)s[da]ni:da:sdi hi?a?
to hunt it (hard), they to become, they this
igv¥:n(e)di ane:sv[hv:]sgv gha? na:sgigwo
to do it, one they are using them up now that, just
i:g4:i a:se?ge:li? ye:li:gwo a’nv:yi 18ne i:ga
all I believe enough March 18th day
1857 ayv diga: hl(i)1ld: gi [°] go: wé:lv:ga ino: li
1857 I Diga:hl(i)lG:gi I just wrote it Ino:li
tsagoli: ye: di

to read it, you

2 ‘Fox,’

3 This word also means ‘tax,’ as well as ‘central authority,’ ‘middle.’
4 ‘Big Owl’ (2ubo virginianus saturatus),

5 Meaning unknown,

6‘They-Which-Are-Piled-Up.’

48 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLy. 196

FREE TRANSLATION

Now! This group of six deliberated at Tsu-hla’s house. They
discussed money, and they decided that they were not defeated and
that the tax of Wolftown and Painttown could be divided into two
parts.

Now! Of all the various things that were happening to them
in their work in Birdtown, that is all that they decided to take care of.
We chose a group of three—T7s(2)sgilié:gwa, Ayd:adhu:gd, and
Tsu:hla—to become the dividers, and then in their own towns to look
for the money. ‘This is the way to do because they [the taxpayers]
are spending it.

Now! That is all that I wrote. I believe that it is enough.
I, Diga :hl(2)lu:gi, just wrote this on March 18, 1857 for you, Ino:l,
to read.

COMMENTARY

The six men meeting at the home of Tsu-:hla in Wolftown would
appear to have been official representatives from Wolftown and
Painttown. We know from another document that 7Ts(2)sgilié: qwa
was Chief of Wolftown. The only matter that the group acted upon
was the State of North Carolina tax on Will Thomas’ Jackson County
land, something which concerned both townships. ‘There is no light
shed upon ‘‘their work in Birdtown.”’

Since Jno:li at the time of this meeting was the clerk of the town-
ship in which it was held, one would expect him to have been present
upon the occasion. Whether Diga:hl(i)li:gi was the Painttown clerk
or merely Jno:li’s substitute is something that we cannot determine.
Doubtless this note was written for the purpose of apprising Ino :li of
what took place at the meeting.

This document is not from The Inoli Letters proper, but from Bureau
of American Ethnology File No. 2241-b which consists of some fugitive
Mooney material cataloged in February 1958.

Mooney’s note upon it reads: “Letter fr. Tilalilugi.”

NO. 14.—GADU:G(D[?] REGULATIONS

(ON RECTO)
ga?lohni 27 i:ga 1857 hi?a?sgini i:tsadv:n(e)di
August 27 day 1857 this, in particular to do it, you (pl.)
gesé:sdi do: tsu:1é?hnvy ["] dhada:hnvtsi:sgi gesv:i
it will be Do:tsu: lé?hnv the one who collects, you it is
hi?a? nusdhé:sdi ghilé:i u:dadhd: gi [8] gohwe:li
this way someone owed, he paper

7 ‘He Arose.’
8 Formis of the verb ‘to extend credit’ we have usually translated ‘to owe.’ For example, what we have
rendered ‘he owes me’ is literally ‘I extend credit to him.’

ae CHRONICLES OF WOLFTOWN—KILPATRICK 49

tsany :nehe:sdf 30 tsu:sv:hidy
which to give you it (flex.), he 30 overnights
nada: hnvtsi:sgV:hna hi?gesé:sdi tsv:sagwo
not be collecting, he this, it will be yourself, just
ts4: ghuy (v) di hi?gesé:sdi ale gohwe:li
to pay, you this, it will be and paper
hi:nv: nehe:sdi duyu:gh(o)dy:i iyadv:n(e)di
this must give him (flex.), you right to be done by, one
gesy:i gha? hi?a?hno: ugh (a)dhi: ya do:tsu:1é?hnv
it is now this, and it waits for him Do:tsu:lé?hnv
da:tsvda do: tsu:1é?hnv a’sganv:tsV:ha sa:gwo ade:lv
over there you (pl.) just said Do:tsu:1é?hnv one does wrong one money
a: ghuy(v)di aye: hli da:tsvda gha? hi?a?hno:
to pay, he central over there you (pl.) just said now this, and
ghil6:hno: u:hliye:lidé:hi[*] ge:sv 2 ale 3 ale
someone, and one who has time it is 2 and 3 and
4 gesé:sdi ale a:se:gwo gesv:i dida: hnvtsi:sgi
4 it will be and free it is one who collects them
u:tse:li:ga 40 ani:se:n(i)si iga:dv¥:hno
his 40 cents in amount, and
ani :sgaye: gv :sda [!9) wuld: hisdi gesé:sdi 20
leaders over there to go, it it will be 20
ani:se:n(i)si wulé: hisdi anisgayegv:sd6:i
cents over there to go, it leaders-place

(ON VERSO)
dida: hnvtsi:sgi ghano:he:ha
one who collects them it tells

FREE TRANSLATION

(ON RECTO)

August 27, 1857

This is what all of you will do: Do:tsu:lé?hnv, you are the collector.
Let it be this way: When someone is owed, he is to give you a paper.
He is not to collect for 30 days. You [the debtor] will pay him your-
self and you must give him a paper. This is the right thing to do.

Now! These instructions wait for Do:tsu:lé?hnv, all of you just said:
Do:tsu:lé?hnv, when someone does wrong, he is to pay a dollar [put
up a bond ?] to the authorities, all of you just said.

Now! When someone has to have a trial, 2, 3, or 4 dollars fine it
will be, and the collector, who has worked uncompensated, will get
$0.40 of each dollar. The leaders will get $0.40 and $0.20 will go to
the treasury.

(ON VERSO)
This tells of the collector.

® Idiom for ‘one who comes to trial.’
10 The last syllable is erroneously written do

50 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLu. 196

COMMENTARY

There is no internal evidence that would categorize this document
as either a set of regulations for the Gadu:g(v) or as an edict of the
Wolftown Council, yet it is certainly one or the other, and most
likely the former.

As previously stated, Fogelson and Kutsche (1961, p. 87) define
the Gadu:g(2) as “‘. . . a group of men who join together to form a
company, with rules and officers, for continued economic and social
reciprocity.’ There is, however, some doubt that this definition
would coincide with what the Oklahoma Cherokee consider the
Gadu:g(i) to be. In their conservative communities of Adair,
Sequoyah, and Cherokee Counties which up until a few years ago
were as fully, if not more nativistically orientated as any community
in North Carolina, we have personally seen little evidence of the
organizational continuity of the Gadu:g(i). In Oklahoma one
speaks of calling for a Gadu:g(i), not calling cut the Gadu:g(2).
While it functions, it may have rules and officers, but upon reconstitu-
tion for another specific task it has new rules, new officers, and new
personnel. One wonders if socioeconomic factors peculiar to North
Carolina, the locus of a small segment of the Cherokee people, might
have engendered and insured the much studied continuity of the
Gadu:g(z) there.

Gilbert (1943, p. 306) interprets the Gadu:g(i) of the time of his
investigation as ‘“‘aboriginally remnantal.” Fogelson and Kutsche
(1961) state that Gilbert believes the Gadu:g(i) to be a survival of
the aboriginal town settlement. For what weight such may throw to
one side or the other of the question, we find in The Inoli Letters
proof of the existence of the Gadu:g(i) side by side and interlocked
with a township organization.

Mooney’s caption appears to be: “Company Rule etc Borrowd
Money WW.”

NO. 15.—TSO:TSAGA" SELLS HIS HOUSEHOLD FURNISHINGS

hi?agwo:hwé:lo:di niga:1(i)sda nv:ddde:gwa 3ne i:ga
this to write, I it just became November 3rd day
1857 ude: dhiyV:sadi:sv gha? hi?a? na:gwo
1857 year now this now
gv:gwo:hwé:lo:di niga: hl(i)sda ayv digo: we: li:sgi
able to write it, I it just became I clerk, I
wahbhy6:hi sga:dt:gi a:hni a: gilv?tsi
wolf-place township here he just came to me
tso:tsaga ts(i) sgili tsagwo:hlv: gi [!?]
Tso:tsaga Ts(i)sgill where I was sitting

11 ‘The-Three-Which-He-A te.’
12 Idiomatic for ‘where I was living.’

7S aa CHRONICLES OF WOLFTOWN—KILPATRICK dl

agwada?nv:sdi nu: hl(i)sdhanv ghani:gadV¥ aghind: ?v [13]

to move, I it became without my household furnishings
a:gh(a)dhahyo:se:lv: gi [#4] ge:di [15] gv: yaghuyV:e:lv:gi
she asked me for it Ge:di I did pay you
u:dv:hnv: gi a:di:ha hi?a?hno: a:gwVv inv: gi
she did state he says this, and I just hurried
a?se:sdi HBR Ye tsu: gvV : wahl(o) di [!°] a:hna: ?vy [27]

to count, one the amount worth lying there, it (hard)
agwvdé:tsv ayv tso:tsaga e:hlawe? gada:nv:dhe:sgv:gi
left me, it iE Tso:tsaga quietly I was thinking

no:gwo tsine: gi hi?a?ni:ga:? tsu:gV:wahl(o)di

now I just said this amount worth

$5.37 e:ladi: tsv [18] tsigo: hwé:la u:ghuyv:[h(v)] [2]
$5.37 below, toward whicb written she paid

ge:di $1.55 e:la?df tsigo:hwé:la ayv tso: tsaga
Ge:di $1.55 below which written I Tso:tsaga
agwatse:li:ga $3.47

mine $3.47

FREE TRANSLATION

It just became necessary for me to write this November 3, 1857.

Now! Now it just became possible for me to write that Tso: tsaga
came here to me, the Woiftown clerk.

“T had to move from 7's(z)sgilv’s, where I was living, without my
household furnishings. Ge:di asked me for them. ‘I paid you,’
she stated,” he says. ‘I amin a hurry to estimate the value of what
was left me, I, T’so-:tsaga, have been quietly thinking.

“J just said now: “They are worth $5.37.’

“Ge:di paid what is written below—$1.55.

“What is written below is mine [yet to be paid], Tso-:tsaga’s—
$3.47.”

COMMENTARY

The Ts(i)sgilt upon whose holding cr in whose home Tso: tsaga
lived is the 7's(2)gil1é: gua who was Chief of Wolftown in 1857. Ge-:di
is not identified. T'so:ésaga’s purpose in coming to the clerk was to
record the circumstances of Ge:di’s incurring the debt and to obtain
some legal hold upon the debtor. One notices that the arithmetic
displayed here is insecure: if Ge:dz paid $1.55 upon a debt of $5.37,
she still owed $3.82, not $3.47.

13 The writer employes hv as a last syllable. Cherokee spelling frequently attempts to represent the
glottal stop by a succeeding syllable beginning with h.

14 ‘Tt’— the household furnishings collectively.

15 ‘Katy.’

16 The unvoiced vowel is erroneously written i, here and subsequently.

17 See footnote 12, p. 50.

18 This is a contraction of é:la?di and di:tsv (di:dlain the Oklahoma dialects). B:la2di (‘below’) and e:ladi
(‘earth’) are frequently confused.

19 The (any consonant) v: + hv in speech often becomes (any consonant) o:h(v). In writing this com-
bination, the writer frequently omits the final syllable altogether, as he does here.

52 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 196

Mooney’s identification: ‘Money Belonging to Various Persons
WW?” is faulty.

NO. 16.—0:L(U)TSEGI ACCUSES DU:NA:YI OF STEALING HER

DRESSES

(ON RECTO)
gha? hi?a? a:hni digo: we: li:sgi agwo:hlyv
now this here clerk, I sitting, I
igv:yi ani:lu?gi o:1(u)tsegi [?°] di: hnuwo
in front they just came O:1(u)tsegi clothes
da: gin(a)di:ne:lv du:na:yi [#4] a:di:ha u:nV:SV
he sold mine Du:na:yi she says themselves
a:ni:hno:hv:li du:na:yi hi?nigawe’a
they just told it Du:na:yi this he says
a?sv: tsi datsido: gv: gi nadv:ginv :ne:lv: gi
bridge over there 1 was standing he approached and gave them (flex.) tome
a:di:ha a:sano:gi u:na:lo:idv
he says dress checked, it
gi:gage ada: ts6:s[di] tsigi 100 1
red belted which it is $1.00 (1.)
s6?ihné: a:sano:gi u:na:lo:idv sa’gho:nige
another, and dress checked, it blue
gesv:gi 100 2 s6?ihn6é: u:hnv:tsadv
it was $1.00 (2.) another, and spotted, it
u:sgo:lv:tsv: gesv:gi 3 50 s6?ihné:
faded, it it was (3.) $0.50 another, and
u:na:lo:[ildv gi: gage gv:hnage udh(a)st: yi
checked, it red black mixed, it
gesv:gi 100 4 ganosgi:sgi daginv:ne:lv:gi
it was $1.00 (4.) one who steals _ over there he did give them (flex.) tome
na:sgi iy¥:dv a’sv: tsi
that over there bridge
dv:gwdle:hnv ayv du:na:yi
I stood I Du:na:yi

(ON VERSO)
o:1(i)tsegi [22] u:tse:li gohwe:li
O:1(i)tsegi her paper

FREE TRANSLATION

Now! They came here before me where I, the clerk, sit.
“Du:na:yi sold my clothes,” O-:l(u)tsegi says. They themselves
told it.

20 While we cannot translate this name, it appears to be feminine and possibly derived from English.

21 This may be an archaic form of du:na-:yi (‘they have them (long)’). There is a To-nigh-yeh (No. 392)
and also a Too-nigh-eh (No. 449, sic for 439) on the Terrell Roll.

22 An alternate spelling, 7(i) for Z(u). The final syllable is erroneously written gu.

ae sara CHRONICLES OF WOLFTOWN—KILPATRICK 03

Du:na:yi says this: “When I was standing over there by the
bridge, he [the thief] approached and gave them to me.”

1. A red-checked, belted dress_________.___--- $1. 00
2. Another dress, blue-checked____-_-_---__--- $1. 00
3. And another one, spotted and faded_________ $0. 50
4. And another one, with red and black checks

Vid11 220 elite etm WCU: PRM PARAL! Ios: Ab ge ge $1. 00

“That thief gave them to me where I, Du:na:yi, stood over there

by the bridge.”
COMMENTARY

We suspect that Du:na:yi was a relative of the woman who filed
a complaint against him with clerk Jno:li. The bridge mentioned
in Du:na:yi’s somewhat thin defense was probably but a footlog.
The figures represent the value of the dresses, or what Du:na:yi
obtained for them. This document gives us our only glimpse of
feminine styles in old Wolftown.

This record bears no date. We assign it to the year 1857.

Mooney’s notation is exceedingly difficult to read, but it appears
to be: ‘‘Altsegti Purchase of various Calicos—Dundyi WW.”

NO. 17.—CONCERNING ADEBT OF WAHHYANI:DA TOTSA:N(I)LA: TSI

gha:ga?li 17ne i:ga do: tsi:14: wi: gi wahhy6: hi
February 17th day we met wolf-place
tsa: li ga:hwi:li [?] tsiya:dhvdv:hv: ga aghino:hv:li
Tsa:li Ga:hwi:li I just asked him he just told me
tsa: n(i) la: tsi [24] hi?a? nitsi: we:se:lV¥: gi ha:hni
Tsa:n(i) La:tsi this then I just did tell him this here
wahhy6:hi [25] na:hna wvdagé:da:sdhani tsa:di:ha
wolf-place there there I will go by which he says
wahhyani:da tsiy4:dho:hl(a)sdi ade:lv sa:gwo ade:lv
Wahhyani:da I lent him (hab.) money one money
di:sgvhyv:sdano:lv u:hé:sdi [?*]

you must bring them by if to have it, he

tsi: yose:17: gwo ge:sv:gi a:di:ha tsa: li ga:hwi:li
I told him, just it was he says Tsa:li Ga:hwi:li
ts4:hye:hné digo: hwe:lf:sgi agi:nagi:dv
not, for clerk, he he gave (flex.), me
yi:tsi:nv:ne:1é gohwe:li na:sgihno: wabhyani:da
not I gave him (w.p.k.) letter that, and Wahhyani:da
hi: gohv: hi hi:no:lé:lv na: giwe:sv a:di:ha
when you see him (cond.) must tell him, you I said he says

ayy ino: li digo: we: li:sgi nigd:dv a:gwagh(a)sa:sdi
I Tno:li clerk, I all to watch, I

23 This man was known as Charley Hornbuckle by the White people. Ga-:hwi:li we cannot translate.

24 Known to the Whites as John Large. Usually written Tsd:n(i)la:tst.

25 The first syllable is erroneously written ga.

%6 ‘To have it, he’ would be pronounced with a short first syllable: whe:sdi. Both forms are written with
the same symbols, but the context here predicates u:hé:sdi.

54. BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 196

niga:1(i)sdanidé6: hv a:hni wahhy6:hi [27] nigd:dv
that which is happening here wolf-place all
degd:du:hv a:hni tsalagi na:hna dv:né:hv

towns here Cherokee there been living, they
na:sgigwo i:ga:? go:wé:la:g4 ayy ino:li 1858
that, just all I just wrote it I Ino:li 1858

FREE TRANSLATION

On February 17 we met in Wolftown. I asked Tsa:li Gacrhwi-li,
and he told me: ‘‘This I told T'sdé:n(i)la:tsi, that I was going to be
passing by Wolftown, and he said, ‘I lent Wahhyani: da some money—
one dollar. You must bring it by if he has it.’ I told him,” said
Tsa:li Ga:hwi:li. “TI did not give him the paper that the clerk gave
me. When you see Wahhyani:da, tell him what I said,’’ he said.

I, Ino:li the clerk, the one who watches all that bappens here in
Wolftown and all those who live here in the towns in the Cherokee
country.

This is all I, Zno:l2, just wrote.

1858

COMMENTARY

Apparently Zno:li wanted no part in the negotiations concerning
the strictly private debt referred to above. His typically Cherokeean
play upon the word a: gwagh(a)sa:di has him saying in effect: “I, who
am the agh(a)dhi:ya (treasurer, tax-collector, which he was) am
now expected to a: gwagh(a)sa: sdi (to exercise the function of treasurer,
tax-collector) in every private debt in the whole Cherokee country.”

“Wolftown Council 1858 WW,” is Mooney’s annotation.

NO. 18.—THE CLERK WARNS DEBTORS

(FIRST NOTATION)

guwo:ni 3ne i:ga 1858 ude: dhiy¥:sadi:sv¥ go:wé:la:g4
April 3rd day 1858 year I just wrote
ayv gha:tsi[?8] digo: we:li:sgi hi?a? ne: gi [79] a:gilu?tsi

I Gha: tsi clerk, I this Ne:gi she just came to me
a: ghine: tsi agwo:hwe:lo:di:yi

she just gave me permission to write, I

he:ts(a)dhu:gv:i du:na:yi [9] $ tso?i ade:lv no:gwo
this owing, you Dui:na:yi three money now

tsa: ghuy (v) df niga: hl(i)sda gho:higwo i:ga
to pay, you it just became now, just day
tsi: ghuy (v) di tsine: gi ayv ne: gi
to pay, you I just said I Ne:gi

27 In the manuscript there is a superfluous final Ze.

28 The meaning of this proper name is unknown. It is possibly a transfer into Cherokee of a White name.
20 ‘Maggie.’

30 The meaning of this proper name is unknown. See footnote 21, p. 52.

ANTHROP. PAP.

No. 75] CHRONICLES OF WOLFTOWN—KILPATRICK 55
(SECOND NOTATION)
guwo:ni 3ne i:ga go:wé:la:g4 ayy gha:tsi
April 3rd day I just wrote it I Gha: tsi
digo: we:li:sgi go:wé:la: ga he: ts(a)dhu: gv:i sa: li [31]
clerk, I I just wrote this owing, you Sa :li
$s0:gwo ade:lv¥: hi tso?i gi:nd:d(v)dhi di:sdé:1(v) di
one dollar three- fourths to help them, on
Lest no:gwo tsi: ghuy(v)di niga: hl(i)sda gho:higwo
in all now to pay, you it just became now, just
i:ga ts4: ghuy (v) df tsine: gi ayv ne: gi
day to pay, you I just said I Ne:gi
(THIRD NOTATION)
guwo:ni 3ne i:ga 1858 ude: dhiyV:sadi:sv
April 3rd day 1858 year
go:wé:la:g4 he: ts(a)dhu:gV¥:i u:ni:lo:sv [2]
I just wrote it this owing, you U:ni:lo:sv
$ hi:sgh(a)sgo:hi hi:sgigha:li:? ani:se:n(i) [si]
fifty- five full cents
nu:hl(i)sdv tsine: gi ayv ne:gi ayv gha:tsi
it became I just said I Ne-gi I Ghat:si
go:wé:la:g4 digo: we: li:sgi
I just wrote it clerk, I
(FOURTH NOTATION)
gha? hi?a? a: gilu?tsi digo: we:li:sgi
now this she just came to me clerk, I
agwo:hlv igv:yi:tsv a: gilu?tsi
Iam sitting in front of she just came to Me
do:tsu:lé?hny ne:gi [*3] ani: ghahwi [°4] é:hi
Do:tsu:1é?hnv Ne:gi the Deer Clan she belongs to
du:da:dha:gv $5.30 gha? hi’a? a:gilu?tsi
is owed them, she $5.30 now she has just come to me
digo: we:li:sgi agwo:hlv igv:yi:tsv
clerk, I Tam sitting in front of
a: gilu?tsi do: tsu:lé?hnv ne: gi ani: ghahwi
she has just come to me Do:tsu:1lé?hnv Ne:gi the Deer Clan
é:hi du:da:dht: gv de: gdhno:g4
she belongs is owed them, she she just brought them (flex.)
gohwe:li $5.30 ani:se:n(i)si
papers $5.30 cents
al ‘Sally.’

32 “They-Passed-By.’

33 ‘Maggie-He-Arose.’ Cherokee married women are usually called: Name of woman+ Name of hus-
band; unmarried women are usually called: Name of woman+Name of father (sometimes mother). In
this case the order is reversed, as might have been the custom in North Carolina in 1858. We have no way
of ascertaining whether Do: tsulé?hnv was her husband or father.

34 The Deer is one of the seven Cherokee clans. The names of some of the other clans are mistranslated
in the published literature.

56 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLuL. 196

FREE TRANSLATION

(FIRST NOTATION)

On April 3, 1858, I, Gha:tsi the clerk, just wrote this. Ne:gi just
came to me and gave me permission to write that you, Du:na-:yi, owe
$3.00.

“Now it has just become time to pay. ‘Pay today,’ I, Ne-:gi, just
said.”

(SECOND NOTATION)

On April 3rd I, Gha:tsi the clerk, just wrote this.

“On what you owe, Sa-:li, $1.75 helped on the total, but now it has
just become time to pay the remainder. ‘Pay today,’ I, Ne-gi, just
said.”

(THIRD NOTATION)

On April 3, 1858, I just wrote this.

“What you owe, U-:ni:lo:sv, is a full $0.55, I, Ne: gi, just said.’

I, Gha: tsi the clerk, just wrote this.

(FOURTH NOTATION)

Now! WNe:gi Do:tsu:lé?hnv of the Deer clan has just come before me
where I, the clerk, sit. She is owed $5.30.

Now! Ne-:gi Do:tsu:lé?hnv of the Deer clan has just come before me
where I, the clerk, sit. Sheis owed $5.30, and she just brought papers.

COMMENTARY

The fact that all the obligations fell due upon the same day suggests
that they have been incurred at a sale of the effects of some deceased
relative of Ne:gi’s. The fourth notation, in the handwriting of
Ino:li and not Gha:tsi, was possibly made at some date later than the
other notations, and the documentary proof of the obligations proffered
by Ne:gi may hint at sterner action forthcoming.

Ne:gv’s people, the Deer clan, had no township of their own, but
“Part of Painttown was formerly called Deer-place (Kawiyi)” (Gilbert,
1943, p. 204).

Gha:tst filled in as Wolftown Clerk at several junctions during
Ino:li’s tenure, more than likely principally at such times as when
Ino:li was intensively engaged in churchwork.

Mooney does not identify this document.

NO. 19.—LITIGATION OVER A DEBT: SA:YANI VS. U:NI:LO:SV

ayv ino:li go:wé:la:g4 guwo:ni 5ne i:ga
I Ino:li I just wrote it April 5th day

ANTHROP. PAP.

CHRONICLES OF WOLFTOWN—KILPATRICK

57

No. 75].

1858 gha? gho: ?i: ga [5] digo:hwe:li:sgi a:gilu?tsi

1858 now now, day clerk, he he just came to me
gu: dagi:sgi [5*] u:ni:lo:sv hi?a? nitsawe:sv: gi
Gu: dagi:sgi U:ni:lo:sv this then you did say
sa: yani [?7] a:gh(a)dhaha a:gwaghuyv: sa:yani
Sa:yani he knows I paid it Sa:yani
u:da:dht: gv a:gwaghuyv:hyvy [3] tsadv:hnv: gi sa:yani
is owed, he I paid it you did state Sa:yani
tsahno: yagw4:n(v)dha a:di:ha hi?a? nigawe’a
not I know he says this he says
u:ni:lo:sv dagwadv: hnv:gi [°°] u:do:hiyt:sgo
U:ni:lo:sv over there I did state truly so (interro.)
ts(a)dhu: ga tsudi: dagwo:se:lv: gi tsadi:hno
you owe him from over there they said to me not, and
tsidhd: gv: gi uwa:Sv tsiyo:se:lv: gi a:di:ha
he just owed me himself I did tell him he says
sa:yani ade:lv ditsiyadho:1(a)sdanv hi:sgadu
Sa:yani money I loaned him them fifteen
ani:se:n(i)si u:wa:nv:tshine:lv 5 ani:se:n(i)si
cents it piled up 5 cents

nig4:dv 20 ani:se:n(i)si tsu?di

all 20 cents to put them (hard) down, one
hi?a? nu: we:sé:i ula:sda?a [4°] gane: ga [41]
this then he said (w.p.k.) Ula:sda?a pelts

na:sgi ditsaght:yv:e:lv a:hnvwo agiye: hw(i)sv
that over there he has paid you clothing I sewed it

na:sgi doditsa[nv : Jne:14 [47] ula:sda?a, na:sgi
that he sent them (flex.) to you Ula:sda’a that
u:ni:lo:sv gado:?hno tsint :sdi tsin(i)tsawe:sv
U:rni:lo:sv why, and which the way what you said
agh(a)say(a)sdo?di niga:hi(a)sda _— tsu?di

to examine it, one it just became to put them (hard) down, one
e:ts(a)dhu:gv 20 a:sé:hno hi?gawe’a
been owed by you 20 but this he says
25 ani:se:n(i)si a:di:ha u:ni:lo:sv
25 cents he says U:ni:lo:sv

FREE TRANSLATION

I, Ino:li, just wrote this April 5, 1858.

Now! Today Gu:dagi:sgi, the clerk, just came to me.

“U:ni:lo:sv, you said: ‘Sa:yani knows I paid it. What Sa:yani
was owed, I paid.’ You stated that Sa:yani says: ‘I don’t know.

85 Contraction of gho:hi i:ga, the glottal] stop replacing the syllable hi

36 Meaning unknown.

37 Meaning unknown; possibly a loanword from English.

38 The third syllable is erroneously written gi.

3° There is written a superfluous do between the third and fourth syllables
40 ‘He-Steps-Upon-It.’

41 The first syllable is erroneously written gi.

42 The first syllable is erroneously written de.

58 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 196

This is what U:ni:lo:sv says.’ I stated: ‘Does he truly owe you?
Over there they told me that he doesn’t owe me,’ I told him myself.
Sa:yani says: ‘I lent him money—$0.15. With $0.05 interest, he is
to pay $0.20.’ This is what Ula:sda?a said: ‘He has paid you with
pelts which I sewed into clothing and which he sent you.’”

Ula:sda?a, why did you say what you said about U:ni:lo:sv?
Now I will have to examine the matter. You, U-:ni:lo:sv, are to pay
$0.20, but he says $0.25.

COMMENTARY

This is a typical example of the financial tangles that inspired many
of The Inoli Letters; and possibly, moreover, it is admissible as
evidence in support of the statement of Corkran (1962, p. 11) as to the
‘narrow literalness” of the Cherokees, the Indians that have had more
litigation with the Government than any other tribe.

The parties involved in the dispute must have lived in different
townships, for two clerks were drawn into the negotiations. One
notes with interest that a man, not a woman, sewed the animal skins
into clothes, and that Jno:l’s arithmetic was shaky.

The autograph is that of Zno:. Mooney identifies the document
as: ‘“B—fox writes Jo Lowin about an old debt.’ Whether the
“Jo” is properly ‘‘J.O.,” the first two initials of the ‘‘White” name of
the individual, or something entirely different is a mystery. At any
rate, the caption is incorrect.

NO. 20.—REGULATIONS CONCERNING MARRIAGE

gha? hi?a? gho:hi ude: dhiy¥:sadi:sv nu:sdi
now this now year the way
a:nihné: gi ale danu:gh(o)da a:nisddé: yi:da
they just spoke and they just decided they just pushed it
1859 a?n(a)sgv: dhi gha?lv:hv [4] 20 da:nild: wi: gi
1859 May month 20th they just met
tsu:n(a)del(o)gwasdi: yi nahn4:ni [4] gv:ghiné: tsi
which to learn, they-place there they spoke to me
digo: we: li:sgi ghilo ude:svvsdi:hi gohwe:li
clerk, I someone to get married, he paper
u:nagi:sdi a:sgaya g4?luge:sdi ganagi:sge:sdi
to go (flex.), it man must come, he will be getting it (flex.), he
gi:nt:d(v)di 25 a: ghuyi:[s]ge:sdi ghila
one-fourth $.25 to be paying, he then
a:suyé:sge:sdi gesé:sdi di:da:tsv:sdi:sgi
will be choosing it, he it will be one who marries them
hi?a? elf:sge:sdi a:hl(i)tsid6:hv:sgi ale
this to be thinking, he one who preaches and

43 Variant of gha?lo.

44 One would expect this to be nahnd-i, but in Ino-li’s period and locale it may have been pronounced as
written.

eR RAPE PAP. CHRONICLES OF WOLFTOWN—KILPATRICK 59

digo: hwe:lf:sgi eli:sge:sdi na:sgwo na:sgi
clerk, he to be thinking, he also that
tsu:tsv:sdo?di gesé:sdi hi?a? tsalagi
to marry them, he it will be this Cherokee
tsu:natsv :sdi hi?a?hno: gv: hnage yigi V:tsa
to marry, they this, and black if it is not
tsu:natsv:sdi yigi asé: hyehn6é: se:gi:yu
to marry, they if it is because improper
di: galé : n(v)do?dfi higi gv: hnage a:sgaya
to separate them, one this it is black man
V:tsa gohwe:li ganv :ne?di yigi hi?a?
not paper to give him (flex.), one ifitis this
a:sgaya gélu?ge:sdi ganagi:sge:sdi

man must come, he will be getting it (flex.), h
hi?’a? a:sgaya gdlu’ge:sdi ganagi:sge:sdi

this man must come, he will be getting it (flex.), he
gohwe:li a:se uhé:sdi [*] du:do:hy
paper must to have it (hard), he her name
na:gwéhno: go:hwé:lo:di di:natshe nu:hl(i)sdanv
now, and to write, one joined, they it became
di:natshe niga:hl(i)sda a:di:sge:sdi du:n(a)do:hv
joined, they it just became he will be saying their names
u:haged6:hi go:hwé:le:sdi na:sgi di:natshe
thick-place it will be written that joined, they
ge:sv ani: gh(a)dhahé:sdi na:sgihno: ga:d6:hi
it is will know, they that, and land-place
u:ni:hv na:sgwo ghané:isdo?di higi
having it (solid), they also to mention it, one this it is
na:sgi anina: gi?lv ale tsu: ne: tsi ane:hv
that cohabitants and their children living, they
na:sgi un(a)tse:li:go a:nehe:sdi i:tsti:la
that their property they will live both

ani: gh(a)dhahé:sdi

will know, they

FREE TRANSLATION

Now! This year this is what they spoke about and decided to
enforce. On May 20, 1859, they met at the schoolhouse, and there
they appointed me clerk.

Ifsomeone wants to get married, a paper must be obtained. Theman
is to come get the paper, for which he will pay $0.25, then he is to
choose the one to marry them. He is to think of the preacher and
also the clerk that is to marry them.

This rule is for the marrying of Cherokees: if one of the couple
is a Negro, they are not to be married; for it would be improper for
one to have to separate them. A Negro man is not to be given a

paper.

“* The first syllable is erroneously written hi, and there is a superfluous s following the second syllable.

60 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLy. 196

When a man comes to get a paper, he must have the name of the
woman. He will say that they are married; it will be written that
they are married. It will be written in the thick book that they are
married. They will know that the land that they have is also to
be mentioned so that both the cohabitants will know that they and
their children will live upon their own property.

COMMENTARY

Russell (1956, MS., p. 136) informs us that the meeting reported
here was of the whole Eastern Band, not of Wolftown exclusively.
Ino:li himself implies that there was a yearly meeting of this nature.
Such meetings were seemingly held at Echota Mission which was
also used for instructional purposes. This particular conclave was
held at the instigation of Will Thomas. Under the new regulations
the first marriage was that of Ginsey (Tsz:n(2)s1) to John Oostooih
(U:U(i)sdu:hi), performed upon Raven Fork in Big Cove by the Rev
W. W. Smith, with Jefferson Hornbuckle as interpreter. The event
was duly reported in the Franklin “Observer.”

We call attention to the injunction to select a minister and a
clerk—evidence in favor of the existence of township governments
other than that of Wolftown.

This document is not among The Inoli Letters, but is filed separately
at the Bureau of American Ethnology under No. 2279.

No. 21.—REQUEST FOR PAYMENT OF WINI’S FUNERAL EXPENSES

(ON RECTO)
gha? na:gwo go:wé:lv:g4 ayv o:si [4°] a?n(a)sgv:dhi
now now I just wrote it I O:si May
a:sgwadi:sgv ghwalv: yi [47] nvdayii: we:nv:dv
finishing, it Qualla-place she came from over there
wini [43] tsudé:idv tsige:sv: gi [4°] a?n(a)sgv:dh
Wini which named, she which it was May
gha?lv 28ne i:ga u:hl(i)sgwadi:si a:hni
month 28th day she just finished here
dhani:si [5°] na:sgihno: tsuhnuwé6:sdi ganoyV:gv
Tennessee that, and to wear them, she buried, she
tsu: gv: wahl(o) di [J nu:hl(i)sdanv: gi adi:na
expensive then it did become then

46 “Sudatory.’

47 Mooney (1900, p. 526) says that Qualla (Ghwa:la) is the Cherokee form of ‘Polly,’ and that a woman so
named formerly lived in the vicinity of Qualla post office and trading post. A manuscript in our possession,
a key to esoteric terms employed in conjuring, states that it isa ritualism for any Edenic abode.

4s “Winny.’

«9 Tsige:sv and tsige:sd:gi have the specific meaning of the ‘late.’

60 The etymology of this word is discussed in Kilpatrick (1962 b, p. 41).

51 This word also can mean ‘cost,’ ‘value,’ ‘price’.

ANTHROP. PAP.

CHRONICLES OF WOLFTOWN—KILPATRICK

61

No. 75]

do:tsaghuyv [5] na:sgihno: ghane:sagi
we paid for them that, and box

uni: sido?di dunil¥ :sda:si yvwine:gv
to push it, they they just worked person, White
na:sgwo tsu: gV: wahl(o)di 2 ade:l¥:hi
also cost 2 dollars
tso?i:ne aye: hli na:sgihno: wi:tsv:no:hv:si

third central that, and over there I just told you (pl.)
tsad4:n(v)dhehi:sa?ny uhli:sdi nvdigé:hl(i)sdo?di

you (pl.) must think it over quickly then over there to become, it
G:tsadh(v) digalv : hw(i)sda:n(e) di uyo:sdo?d4:nelv:i
much to work, one it was ruined
tsu:gV:wahl(o) di tsuda:lihd na:hna iy?:dv
cost which he wants there far
nvdatsi:[n(a) Jdi gesé:sdi tsu: gv: wahl(o) df
to be sent (hard), it it will be cost

ghwal?: yi hi?tsé: hi o:sd(v) itsv : hnadé: gi
Qualla-place this, you (pl.) live good you (pl.) caretakers
witsv: ne: tsi nvda:tsaghu: y(v)di

over there I just asked you (pl.) over there to pay you (pl.)

ayv o:si a:yVhyehné: tsuhnuwo:sdi
I O:si I, for to wear them, she
do:tsaghuyv dhani:si otsé: hi hi?a?hno:
we paid for them ‘Tennessee we live this, and
du:da:dhu:ga ghvnige:sv nuw4:ne:lv na: gwo
she is owed evident then she made it now
u:sgwadidé:na ge:sVii u:sawi [53] de: hw(i)si [54]
about to finish, she it is U:sawi De:hw(i)si
duhno:hi:se:lv¥:gi ne:gi 1 ade:lv tsidhu:ga
she did tell them Ne:gi 1 money she owes me
digu: dhline:sgi [55] agidu: tsi 20 ade:lv tsidhu: ga
Digu: dhline:sgi my uncle 20 money he owes me
ada:na?nv hv: gh(i) dha: gvegi gohwe:li i:gin(i)yv:dhanv
store this been owed by me paper been put on it
ge:svigi udv:hnv: gi:hno: a:se ¢:dhla yoga:n(v)dha
it was she did state, and but not one we know
i:g4:i ge:sv:i hi?a?sgini ghane:sagi
the amount it is this, in particular box

4: ghuy (v)do?di uhlt:sdi yitsi: hwadhv
to pay with, one quickly if you (pl.) find it
hi?a?gwo: yidits{: yohisé:lv osi: yigwo
this, just if you (pl.) will turn them over to her good, just
nv: tsi [5°] tsino: hi [°”] a:ne:na ghwalv: yi

Nv: tsi Tsino: hi

82 The author of this letter has achieved do by the sum of de + o.
see Chafe and Kilpatrick (1962, pp. 62-63).

they just went

Qualla-place

For the discussion of such a practice,

53 Probably derived from Esau or Isaiah, although the standardized spelling of the one is 7:30 (Worcester
and Foreman, 1856, p. 78), and the other Jsa:ya (Worcester and Foreman, 1849, p 1),

4 Possibly the Cherokee form of ‘Davis.’
85 ‘One-Who-Uncovers-'Them.’
58 We cannot translate this fairly common feminine name.

57 This might be a shortened form of Atsino:hi (‘Cedar-Tree-P lace’).

747-014—66—_5

62 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 196

na:sgigwo unihy6:hisdi yiniga:hi(i)sda
that, just to bring it (hard), they if it just became
gha? na:sgigwo i:ga:i go:wé:lv:g4 a?n(a)sgv:dhi
now that, just all I just wrote it May
a:sgwadi:sgv i:ga 1859 ude: dhiy y:sadi:sy¥
finishing, it day 1859 year
iy?:dv gho:hi tsigi da:tsv:dha [55]
this far now this it is Da:tsv:dha
tsago:li:ye:di
to read, you

(ON VERSO)
da:tsv:dha u:tse:li:ga hi?a? gohwe:li
Da-tsv:dha his this letter

FREE TRANSLATION

(ON RECTO)

Now! Now I, O:si, just wrote this at the end of May.

Wini, who came from Qualla, just passed away here in Tennessee
on the 28th of May. Her burial clothes were expensive, but we paid
for them, and the White man who shipped the coffin also charged $2.00.
This is the third time I have told you I have told you officials over
there that you must think this over quickly, for much work has been
lost. He wants the cost to be sent from over there. I, O:si, have
just asked you authorities who live over there in Qualla to pay this
debt to her and make this good. We who live here in Tennessee
paid for her burial clothes.

As she was about to die, she made it plain to U: sawn and De: hw(i)si,
telling them: “Ne:gi owes me $1.00. My uncle Digu-dhline:sgi
owes me $20.00. I owe the store,’ She stated that this debt was
written down, but we do not know the amount.

If you will find the money for this coffin quickly, it will be very good
if you will turn it over to Nv:tsi and Tsino:hi, who just went to Qualla.
They will bring it.

Now! That is all that I just wrote on the last day of May, 1859,
for you, Da:tsv:dha, to read.

(ON VERSO)
This is Da:tsv:dha’s letter.

COMMENTARY

Government records attest to the inefficiency of the operation of
expelling the Cherokee: small groups in Tennessee, Georgia, and
Alabama, as well as in North Carolina, evaded the snare. While

58 “He-Just-Won.’

we CHRONICLES OF WOLFTOWN—KILPATRICK 63

none of the persons mentioned in the above letter can be identified, we
may be reasonably sure that all of them were kinspeople of Wini who
died upon a visit to one of these colonies. The store that Wini
owed was probably that of Will Thomas.

Mooney’s caption is: “Unsigned Letter to Datstita—Death of
Wini in Tenn.”

NO. 22.—ANNOUNCEMENT OF AUCTION AT HOME OF

WAHHYAGADO:GA

dehalu: yi gha?lyv 2inesi:ne i:ga 1858
June month 21st day 1858
ude: [dhi]y V:sadi:sy¥ hi?a?sgini dhali:ne
year this, in particular second
un(a)do:dégwo:hny¥ ghano:[hi?]do:?di
Monday to make known with, one
nvdag4:hl(i)sdanf go:hi:sdi u:sdi:gwo u: dhiyy:hi
then it will happen something small, just left, it
gwi:da [5] u:tse:li:ga iyu:hl(i)sdan¥:hi a?hni
Gwi:da his formerly here
wahhyagado: ga [°°] gana: gil¥:i [8] dhadl(a) du: [6]
Wahbhyagado:ga Gana :gilv-place twelve
iyuw4:hnil¥ gha:nane:sgi [*] u:nalé:n(v)dhi
when it strikes (cond.) clock to begin, they
unf:n(o)do?df ga:sale:na {*] dha?li a:su:lo:gi
to sell, they coat two pair of pants
s80:gwo diga:saf:dv so:gw6:hi tsti:sda?li 80:gwo
one vest one heeled, they one
idf:lasu:16: gi di: hyats6: gi [6} dha?li une: ga, ahhnuwé:gi [6]
pair of shoes handkerchiefs two white shirt
80:gw6:hi na:sgigwo i:ga:i u:sdi:sginf:hno
one that, just all little, in particular, and
go:hu:sdi ghi:lagwo iyV:dv 4: gighuy(v) df gesé:sdi
something now, just right to pay, I {t will be
ade:lv dinf: hyegé:sdi ghilé:i hi?a?hno:
money to bring them (hard), they someone this, and
ghilé:i a:tsi:dhu: gé:sdi [67] a:se a?hni G:lu?hi:sdi
someone to be owing, one must here to come, he
gesé:sdi ayv agh(i)dhu: ga heli:sge:sdi
it will be I Towe him to be thinking, you

59 ‘Peter.’

6 “The-Wolf-Stands.’

81 This word, which we cannot translate, appears to be a part of the name of Wahhvagado:ga. Wit werea
geographical designation, it would be Gana-gilé:hi, Gana:gild:i would be ‘at the home of Gana:gilv.’

83 Although there is a conventional! spelJing, dhal(a)du;: for this word (as is seen in the manuscript), it is
usually pronounced as we have written it.

63 ‘Spider’—“‘from a fancied resemblance in appearance’”’ (Mooney, 1900, p. 524), The term in Oklahoma,
for both ‘clock’ and ‘watch’, is the loanword wa-is(o).

6 Properly this shouid be diga-:sale:na (‘coats’).

6 Di:hyadto in Oklahoma,

66 ‘Shirt’ is probably intended. The word indicates that it is a garment worn upon the upper part of the
body.

6’ Tho difference between ‘one shall owe’ and ‘if one shall owe’ lies in the ‘‘high’’ tone of the syllable ge
in the latter.

64 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLy. 196

ade:lv diahye:ge:sdf ale u:nvny:ge:sdf [®]
money to be bringing them (hard), one and they will be making haste
a:8e G:lu?hi:sdf hi?gesé:sdi ¥: tsa u:dé:la?di
must to come, he this it will be not to hide it, he
yigi du:da:dhti:ga i:ga:? ghano:hv:sga
if one owes them to him all it tells

gohwe:li ghilo nu:lu?tsy:na igese : s{di] [5]
paper gomeone he did not come it will be

ase: hi ganv:si:da:sdi u:1ld?tse:[s]di hi?gesé:sdi
then worker to be coming, he this it will be
guyé:gwo:ni 5ne i:ga ayv gani: wabhya/[”]
July 5th day I Gani: wahhya
go:wé:la:g4 digo: we:li:sgi [74] na:gh(a)dhahy¥:na
I just wrote it clerk, I he did not know

ge:sv gv:gwohwé:lo:di nvga:hl(i)sda [2]
it is able to write, I it just became

FREE TRANSLATION
June 21, 1858

Announcing that this second Monday it will take place: at 12 m.,
at the home of Wahhyagado:ga Gana:gilé, they will begin to sell a
small number of effects left there by the late Gwi:da:

Two coats;
A pair of pants;
A vest;
A pair of heeled shoes;
Two handkerchiefs;
A white shirt;
And that is all.

One is to pay a little something right now and he must bring money,
and if someone owes, he must come here. ‘I owe him,” he is to think
and to make haste to come here and bring the money and not hide
it. If one owes and he does not come, all will be written down and the
auctioneer will come to him.

The auction will be July 5th.

I, Gani:wahhya, wrote this. The secretary does not know how to
write, and I was able to write.

COMMENTARY

Auction sales of the personal effects of the deceased constitute a
facet of Cherokee society that, to our knowledge, has not been inten-
sively investigated. Up until 30 or so years ago such sales were still

8 This word is preceded by an extraneous syllable i; the second syllable is erroneously written ni, the
third syllable ¢v.

69 Variant of gesé:sdi.

7 Probably a contraction of Gani:dawahhya (‘Young Woll’).

"1 The reference here is not to the Wolftown clerk, but to a secretary appointed to record the details of the
sale. In Cherokee the word for both functionaries would be identical.

72 Variant of niga:hl(i)sdas

a ae CHRONICLES OF WOLFTOWN—KILPATRICK 65

conducted in Oklahoma. Those documents in The Inoli Letters that
pertain to such sales are rich in ethnographic minutiae. This one,
for example, casts light upon the technique employed in spurring
lagging payments into the estate. There is some evidence to point
toward these sales being of two species: those initiated by families or
friends of the deceased, and hence the affairs of private citizens; and
those held under the auspices of township authority which presumably
retained for the township treasury some fixed portion of the receipts
in return for its services in arranging the sales, financing prospective
buyers, and collecting debts to the estates.

Mooney’s caption, ‘This is an Advertisement of sale of Standing
Wolf’s property,” is slightly misleading; the property was that of
the deceased Gur:da, although technically it may have belonged to
Wahhyagado:ga. The verso of the notice bears a good deal of arith-
metical scribbling that may have resulted from the totaling of sales.

NO. 23.—THE GADU:G(I) WORKS IN INO:LI’S WHEATFIELD

1859 hi?a? gho:hi ude: dhiyV:sadi:sv de[ha]lu: yi
1859 this now year June

gha?lv 27ne:sine i:ga go:wé:la:g4 hi?a?
month 27th day I just wrote it this
dunilv : hw(i)s{da: Jsi utsalé:sdi ani:tsaga

they just worked wheat they just cut

do: yanf:da [7] u:tse:li:ga tso?iyd?ghalf:?
Do:yani:da bis three, full

hisgi:ne [74] a?ghanv :sadhi gawo:hbilo:sgi [7]

fifth not quite full Gawo:hilo:sgi

u:tse:li:ga utsalé:sdi so:gwo wu:sili [75] 1
his wheat one bushel 1
gu: dagi:sgi u:tse:lfi:ga utsalé :sdi

Gu: dagi:sgi his wheat

tso?iyd?ghalf:? nvghi:ne a’ghanv :sadhi

three, full fourth not quite full

dino?dv:[iJhi [77] na:ni:hv tsu: gv: wahl(o) di
they just bundled them (fiex.) in number cost

iyV: wasdi: hagwé [78] 50 ts(i)sgili [79] u:tse:li:ga
wages per man $0.50 Ts(i)sgili his
a’ghali:? a: tsilé:sdi u:wa?ny [5°] u:tse:li [8]
full bushel-bucket U:watnv his

73 “Young Beavers.’

74 Seemingly an error, ‘fourth’ being the intention.

18 ‘One-Who-Climbs-Over-It.’

% A loanword not in usage in Oklahoma,

7 This word is obscure; it appears to be obsolete.

% This word is patently from the verb ‘to buy,’ but the form 1s unfamiliar and probably obsolete.

% This is probably the Ts(i)sgilié:gwa who was Chief of Wolftown. His working with the Gaduw:g(i)
would in no way be jarring to Cherokee concepts of authority.

8 ‘Weather.’

81 U-tse:ti and u-tse-li:ga are in many instances freely interchangeable. However, the ga is dropped here
to avoid the juxtaposition of ¢ and a (-ga a-).

66 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Buuu. 196
a?ghali:? ghany:sadhigw6 [*?] dhali:ne do:tsu:lé?hnv
full not quite full, just second Do:tsu:lé?hny
u:tse:li a?chali:? ghanv:sadhigw6 dhali:ne
his full not quite full, just second
ga:gama [5] u:tse:li a?ghali:? ghany:sadhigw6
Ga:gama his full not quite full, just
dhali:ne di: gahl(u)ghwade:gi [*] u:tse:li a’ghali:?gwo
second Di:gahl(u)ghwade:gi his full, just

di: ghuyi:sgi u:tse:li utsalé :sdi a’ghali:?
Di:ghuyi:sgi his wheat fall
dhali:ne gha{nv: ]sadhigwé do: yani:da
second not quite full, just Do:yani:da
tso?iyd?ghali:? a:tsilé:sdi agh(i)dhu: ga
three, full bushel-bucket Towe him
tsu:nv:sv:hihno: tso?iyd?ghal{:? 3 gu:dagi:sgihno:
themselves, and three, full 3 Qu: dagi:sgi, and
na:sgi yanda:sgwo [8] i:gazi (8¢} 3 tsu:nv:sV:iya’ghali:? [87]
that also in all 3 themselves, full

3 ts(i)sgili 1 di: gahl(u) ghwade: gi ul ga:gama 1
3 Ts(i)sgili 1 Di:gahl(u)ghwade:gi 1 Ga:gama 1
3 tsu:nV:sv do: tsu:lé?hny 1 tsu:nv:sv
yy themselves Do:tsu:lé*hnv 1 43 themselves
u:wa?nv 1 3 tsu:nv:sv di:ghuyf:sgi i 3
U:wa?nv 1 iy themselves Di:ghuyi :sgi 1 iy
gawo:hilo:sgf 2 hi?a? utsalé :sdi tsagihwi:svV: gi
Gawo:hilo:sgi 2 this wheat that which I did plant
dunil¥ : hw(i)sda:ne:ly agwaghuyv:hv $9.25
they worked I paid it $9.25

FREE TRANSLATION

I just wrote this June 27, 1859.
Do:yani:da’s wheat. ____--
quite full.
Gawo:hilo:sgt’s wheat___-- - 1 bushel.
Gu: dagi:sgi’s wheat_-_- -- --

quite full.

They worked, cutting wheat.
3 full ones, the fourth not

3 full ones, the fourth not

Those who bundled them were paid $0.50 per man.

Ts(4)sgilv’s wheat____-.----
U:wa?nv's wheat___.------
quite full.
Do:isu:lé?hnv’s wheat_-_--- -
quite full.

1 full bushel-bucket.
1 full one, the second not

1 full one, the second not

82 Although the first syllable a? is dropped here through a phonic consideration (? a-), in contemporary

speech the a? is little used, if at all.
88 ‘Cucumber,’ but said to be a transfer of the surname Cockram.
& ‘One-Who-Turns-Them-Over.’
8 A variant of na:sgwo. ‘Also there’ is connotated, albeit somewhat weakly.
% The last syllable is erroneously written hi.
The third syllable is erroneousiy written su.

aga : CHRONICLES OF WOLFTOWN—KILPATRICK 67

Ga:gama’s wheat____-_-_-- 1 full one, the second not
quite full.
Di: gahl(u)ghwade: gv’ s 1 full one.
wheat.
Di: ghuyi:sgv’s wheat _-__-- 1 full one, the second not

quite full.

I owe Do-:yani:da for 3 full bushel-buckets, and also Gu:dagi:sgi
for a total of 3 full ones; Ts(z)sgilt for 1; Di: gahl(u)ghwade:gi for 1;
Ga: gama for 1%; Do:tsu:lé?hnv for 14; U:wa?nv for 14; Di:ghuyi:sgi
1%; Gawo:hilo:sgi for 2.

For working in this wheat that I planted, I paid $9.25.

COMMENTARY

In writing of the Gadu:g(2) Starr (1898, p. 144) states: ‘They
work them [the fields] in companies of ten or twelve persons: such
companies are found to work the fields of each other in order.”
Ino:lv’s memorandum supplies some details.

Ino:lv’s bookkeeping is seldom without elements of mystery.
Since the Cherokee used here for the unfilled containers is ‘not quite
full,”’? one wonders how he arrived at a uniform ‘‘one-third” for all.
Perhaps such a reckoning was customary. But then one notices
that Gawo-hilo:sgi is credited with “one bushel’ above, “two”
below.

Mooney labeled this: “Report of Company—Cutting Wheat.”

NO. 24.—H: NI IS ACCUSED OF THEFT

hi?a?hno: wini a:hni tsed6é6:hvgi [8] agild ?tshe: lv: gf
this, and Wini here where she did walk she did come to mse
nigvwe:sgv: gi e:ni [89] agino:sgi ade:lv
she did say E:ni she just stole from me money
udv:hnv:gi ha: gh(a)sasda tsiyose:lv: gi gho:hi:hno:
she did state watch, you (imp.) I did tell her now, and
ghvhnige:sy¥ niga: hl(i)sdi:ha da:gwadi: [hi] [°°]
apparent it becomes Da:gwadi:hi
du:go:hv dha?li ade:lv sgo: ani:se:n(i)si
he saw them two money ten cents

ge:se? agitsV :dv elawo:di [%] na:hna
it was (w.p.k.) next day Yellow Hill there
e:do? [9] e:ni u:hydtsv:gwé duw4:tsanu:lv:ef

she walks E:ni kerchief, just she did have them (hard) wrapped up
agi?tsi detsi: yadho:1(a)sdv

my mother T had loaned them to her

88 Idiom for ‘where she did come.’

89 ‘Annie,’

00 ‘Catawba-killer.’

1 Literally ‘Earth-paint.’ One ofthe townships on Qualla Boundary where the Agency was later located.
°2 Idiom for ‘she Is there.’

68 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Buuy. 196

ganf:li da:ghv?si dha?li ade:lv
finally she just gave them (hard) to me two dollars
ge:sv:gi di: sdé:hl(v) di $420 [93] ayv
it was to help it, they $4.20 I
digo: we: lf: sgi go:we:la guyé:gwo:ni gha?lv
clerk, I I write it July month
9ne i:ga 1859 ayv ino: li 5 [°]
9th day 1859 I Ino:li 5

FREE TRANSLATION

When Wini was here, she came to me and said: “#:ni stole money
from me,” she stated.

“Watch her,” I told her.

Now it becomes clear. Next day Da:gwadi:hi saw $2.10. H:m
was in Yellow Hill. She had the money tied up in her kerchief.

I had loaned it to my mother. Finally she handed it to me to
help on the $4.20.

I, the clerk, write this on July 9, 1859.

I, Ino:

COMMENTARY

This police blotter memorandum of crime and detection in old
Wolftown is sparse in details, but we nevertheless are able to trace
the story line. At some time before her trip to Tennessee and her
death there, Wini filed a complaint against a certain #:ni for theft of
$4.20. (On the Terrell Roll there are several individuals whose
names, after making allowance for Terrell’s spelling, resolve to EH: ni;
we cannot be sure as to which one was the accused.) Da:gwadi:hi
found H:n2 in possession of $2.10 of the stolen money, and E:na
surrendered it in partial restitution.

We never learn what punishment, if any, was meted the culprit,
but we doubt that crime paid any more handsomely in Wolftown
than elsewhere. From another document we discover that a certain
E:ni was expelled by the Methodists of Echota Mission. She was
more than likely the one in reference here.

One observes that this matter of theft from one deceased was being
aired at the time of the settling of the estate, and no doubt as a phase
of it.

Mooney’s caption appears to apply recto and verso: “Official
[ ] Statement of moneys loaned (other side) & complaint of
money stolen from an individual.”

%3 The 4 is not plainly made and therefore questionable.

94 The significance of this numeral is not evident.

% Da:gwadi:hi was a conjuror. Some of his formulas are found in Mooney (MS., No. 1888, passim), and
his photograph is seen in Mooney (1900, p. 256). He may have been engaged professionally to divine the
location of the missing money.

Auer pars PAP. CHRONICLES OF WOLFTOWN—KILPATRICK 69

NO. 25.—COUNTING OF WINI’S LIVESTOCK AND DEBT OF TSINI

(FIRST NOTATION)

gha? hi?a?sgini tsidunild: witsv: gi
now this, in particular when they met
guyé:gwo:ni gha?lyv 9 i:ga 1859 ale:nv:dv
July month 9 day 1859 it began
digalv: hw(i)sda:ne:lv higi nigd:dv 4:?se:sdi
things accomplished this it is all to count, one
tsu:gv:wahl(o)di wini u:tse:li:ga h?a?hno:
property Wini hers this, and
si:ghwa agi:si gv:hnage anfi:da tso?i
pigs female black young ones three
na:ni:hv agi:si so?ay6:hli ga:nd?lihno:
in number, they female another smal! one gelding, and
ulagé6: hv:sda dha?li iyd:dedhiyv:dv gesé: [s]di
fall two years-old it will be
go:hlisdi: yihné: gali:sdagi:sv a?ghalf:dv
to recognize it, one, and cropped ear filled
go: hlisdi: yi a:gh(a)dhi:sgi
to recognize it, one right side

(SECOND NOTATION)
hi?a?hno;: tsini [°°] ade:lv igv:yi 10 hi?a?hno:
this, and Tsini money first $.10 this, and
na:gwo u:lo:so?nv ahhnuwo: gi 100 gado:hno
now passed by, it clothes $1.00 ground, and
u:n(i)si?di: yi [97] 20 ghahl(i)se:tsihno: 50
to lie down, one-place $0.20 sugar, and $0.50

FREE TRANSLATION

(FIRST NOTATION)
Now! This meeting took place on July 9, 1858. This is what was
accomplished: all the property of Winz was counted:
1. Young black female pigs, three in number.
2. Another small female.
3. A gelding—will be 2 years old in the fall. One can recognize
it by a full ear crop on the right side.

(SECOND NOTATION)

‘Tins: Demy has siresdy paid noo eee cee ae $0. 10
And now the time has passed for paying the remainder on:
Ney Ga eR anh AR Melee nt eee a Sp 2 $1. 00
eRe ele brit CMGr VAT ee gee od $0. 20
RRO” wb Deeds Rete tln tuned foe RoW ven ay) oes. Ere Renee tee: $0. 50
%8 ‘Jenny.’

7 The implication here is that this was a pallet for use in the yard, not the house.

70 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLn. 196

COMMENTARY

The “meeting” to determine what livestock Wind left was almost
certainly by township officials who conducted the auction of Wini’s
estate later in the month. We do not know whether Wini was
married or a widow, but in either case domestic animals would be
considered to be her property.

One notes that at the period of this document the Eastern Cherokee
were following the practice of castrating and cropping farm animals.

The second notation appears to have no connection with the estate
of Wini, but to the estate of someone else. It would seem that
Tsini has paid down $0.10 upon the articles described and that she
was in arrears to the town council. The Cherokee here, in Jno-li’s
handwriting, is somewhat muddled.

Mooney’s description, which is incomplete, is: “Sale of Wini’s
Property—et [ete.].”

NO. 26.—CLAIM OF [NO:LI’S MOTHER AGAINST ESTATE OF WINI

hi?a? u:l(i)sgd:sdi agi’tsi [°°] hi?a? nigawe?a?
this to depend upon it, she my mother this she says
wini tsidhi: ga 50 a:di:ha ayv digo: we: li:sgi
Wini she owes me $0.50 she says I clerk, I
go:wé:la:ga guyé:gwo:nf gha?lyv 29ne i:ga
I jusié wrote it July month 29th day
1859 ayv ino: li

1859 I ino:li

FREE TRANSLATION

This she depends upon, she says. My mother says this: “Winit
owes me $0.50.”
I, the clerk, just wrote this July 29, 1859.
I, Ino:li.

COMMENTARY

We observe here a creditor making claim, through the township
organization, against the estate of one deceased. The Cherokee
name of Jno:li’s mother nowhere appears, but, as will be seen later,
it was probably Gwe:dh(i)si (‘Betsy’). One notes that her claim
was made the day of the sale of Winv’s personal effects.

Mooney renders Jno:li’s signature phonetically: “i no li,” and
labels the document: “‘Finances” recto; ‘‘Record of debt to his mother
from Wini” verso.

%8 Usually e:tsi in the Oklahoma dialects.

eo tae er CHRONICLES OF WOLFTOWN—KILPATRICK 71

NO. 27.—SALE OF PERSONAL EFFECTS OF WINI
(FIRST PAGE)

guyé:gwo:ni 29 1859

July 29 1859
gha? hi?a?sgini ani:n(o)da uwo:su:lo:tsv:
now this, in particular they just put up for sale he survived
wini u:tse:li:ga iyu:hl(@i)sdanv udu:dalv:ne
Wini hers formerly be became responsible

tsi:sghwa
(w.p.k.) Tsi:sghwa

A?hw(i)daya:i a:da:go :nad(v)da tsula:sgi [9] hi?a:gigwo [!]

A?hw(i)daya:i he just outbid pot this she just took it (hard), just
li: di a:dhayo:ha 100 [7]
Li:di she just asked for it $1.00
do: yunf:si a:da:go:nad(v)da a:sano tso:tsaga
Do:yuni:si he just outbid dress Tso: tsaga
udu: dalv:ne 75 u:ghuyv:hv 75
he became responsible (w.p.k.) $0.75 he paid it $0.75
diga: hl (i)li: gi a:da:go:nad(v)da &:Sano
Diga:hl(i)lG:gi he just outbid dress
uwo:ha:se:hi udu:dalv:ne $150
Uwo:ha:se:hi he became responsible (w.p.k.) $1.50
a:hyVi:ni a:da:go:nad(v)da @&:sano udu:dalv:ne
A:hyvi:ni he just outbid dress he became responsible (w.p.k.)
da:dhivda 235
Da:dhivda $2.35
ge: hyahi a:da:go:nad(v)da a:sano tse: gh(i)sini
Ge:hyahi she just outbid dress Tse:gh(i)sini
udu: dalv:ne 225 3}
he became responsible (w.p.k.) $2.25
A:li a:da:go:nad(v)da a:sano ino:li udu:dalv:ne
A:H she just outbid dress Ino:li he became responsible (w.p.k.)
550 [3]
$5.50
a:da:go:nad(v)da tsu:sghwadhi a:hyVi:ni 25
he just outbid pins A:hyVi:nf $0.25
7 [4
$0.07
[?) (5)
Fe
505 if
$5.05 $0.11
15 1506
$0.15 $15.06
18 12
$0.18 $0.12

9 ‘One which has legs,’ a large kettle used for boiling over an open fire. The word also means ‘alligator.’
1 The first syllable is erroneously written hv.

? This numeral is crossed out.

§ This numeral is crossed out.

4 These numerals are obviously totals of some sort.

§ This numeral is illegible.

IZ BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY

12
$0.12
100 855
$1.00 $8.55
2415
$24.15
36.15
$36.15
degé:tsidhu: v:ga dhadl(a)du: fyanv:do
they just owe twelve months

gesé:sdi uwo:su.lo:tsv
it will be he survived

[Buuu. 196

13

$0.13
14.09 [°}
$14.09

15 [7] 4[°)
$15.[714

tsi: naghu:y(v)di
which to pay, they

100 $837
$1.00 $8.37
100 13.62
$1.00 $13.62
200
$2.00
2.50 50 22.62
$2.50 $0.50 $22.62
100 20 100
$1.00 $0.20 $1.00
60 212
$0.60 $2.12
50 75
$0.50 $0.75
350
$3.50
55
$0.55
(SECOND PAGE)

hi?a? wini u:tse: [li] gani:sadi:sdi [7] u:tse:li
this Wini her bed his
niga: hl(i)sda idigv:n(e)di sa:gwo ade:lv
it just became Idigv :n(e)di one money
tsu:gv: wal[hl(o) Jdi a:tsi:dhu:v:ga [8] aghuyV:aho?si [*]
in value he just owed he just paid all of it
100 {1°} ayv ino:li tsidhu:v:ga
$1.00 i Ino:li he just owes me
dhadl(a)du: iyanv:do a:ghuy(v)di go:wé:la:g4
twelve months to pay, he I just wrote it
ga?lohni 15ne i:ga ti: ghuy(v)di guyé:gwo:nf
August 15th day to pay, he July
gha?lv 29 i:ga 1860 ayv digo: we: li:sgi
month 29 day 1860 I clerk, I

6 This numeral is crossed out.

? This word implies that the bed was constructed in the White fashion, some part of it being placed across

parallel horizontal sides.
8 The penultimate syllable is erroneously written ha.

9 The penultimate syllable of this word, obviously inserted later than the text surrounding, is erroneously

written he.
18 This numeral is crossed out.

fe weier CHRONICLES OF WOLFTOWN—KILPATRICK 73
ino:li

Tno:li

A?hw(i)daya:i a:hv tsula:sgi a:gi

A?hw(i)daya:i it (hard) was here pot she just took it (hard)
li:di ade:l¥gwo tsugi:so

Li:di money, just which she got it (hard) (cond.)
na:sgi:ya ayy

alike I

ino:li o:siyu gha?ly [11] ga?lohni 21ne

Ino:li good, very month August 2ist

i:ga 1860 a:ghuyv a:?ghali:?
day 1860 he just paid it in full
guyé:gwo:nf gha?lv 30 i:ga

July month 30 day
tso:tsaga udu: daly: nelv ayy u:do:hiyu
Tso:tsaga he has become responsible I truly

+ [7] tso:tsaga

+ Tso:tsaga

diga:hl(i)ld: gi aghuyV:a[ho?]si 75 450
Diga:bl(i)la:gi he just paid all of it $0.75 $4.50
uwo:ha:se:hi udu: dalv:nelv o:sdv nigv:ga
Uwo:ha:se:hi he has become responsible good he just made it
75 a:si ani:se:n(i)si

$0.75 yet cents

a:hyvi:ni a:tsi:dhu:v:ga [3] u:ghuyv:hv a:hyVvi:ni 245
A:hyvi:ni he just owed he paid it A:hyVvi:ni $2.45
a:ghuyv ga:y6:hii [4] ga?lohni 2ne i:ga

he just paid it sma]i amount August 2d day

90 ago:la:da ga?lohni {?] [35]
$0.90 he just lessened it August (?]
da:dhivda udu: dalv:nelv ayy u:do:hiyu
Da:dhivda he has become responsible I truly
+da:dhivda

+ Da:dhivda

ge: hyahi a:tsi:dhu:v:ga [16] a:ghuyv a:?ghali:?
Ge:hyahi she just owed she just paid in full
guyé:gwo:ni gha?ly 30ne i:ga 1860 225
July month 30th day 1860 $2.25
tse: gh(i)sini udu: dalv¥:nely ayv u:do:hiyu
Tse:gh(i)sini he has become responsible I truly

+ tse: gh(i)sini

+ Tse :gh(i)sini

a:li a:tsi:dhu:v:ga [5] u:ghuy(v)di niga: hl(i)sda
A:li she just owed to pay, she it just became
$3.37 acli 550
$3.37 Aili $5.60

i! The first syllable is erroneously written tsi.

12 We assume that this cross has the force of an official stamp, or seal.
13 The penultimate syllable is erroneously written iv.

14 There is a superfluous final Zi.

18 This date is illegible.

16 The penultimate syllable is erroneously written he

74 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 196
ino:li udu: dal¥: nel¥ ayv u:do:hiyu
Ino:li he has become responsible I truly
guyé:gwo:ni gha?lv 30ne i:ga + ino: li
July month 30th day + Ino:li
a:hni wabhy6: hi sga:du:gi geisv uwo:su:lo:tsv:hi
here wolf-place township it is survivor
ga:n(o)dhanv du:n(a)dé:v tsidu: nohwé:la
he put it up for sale name, they which written by them
guyé: gwo:nt 29 1859 dhadl(a)du:
July 29th 1859 twelve
iyanv:do guyé:gwo:ni 29 1860 wahhy6:hi
months July 29th 1860 wolf-place
ayv digo: we: li:sgi ino: li
i clerk, I Tno:li
go:hwé:lo:di niga: hi(i)sda u:ghuy(v) df: yi sa: gwo
to write, one it just became to pay, she one
ade:lv i: ghuy(v)di 100 [17] a:?ghali:?
money to pay, she $1.00 in fuli
a:ghuyv sa:li
she just paid Sali
idigv:n(e)di deg¥: wu: gh(o)da:si sa’du ade:lv
Idigv:n(e)dfi they just decided for him eleven money
a:nitst:la [18] wini udhu:nv tso?i iyanv:do
both of them Wini he owed three months
a: ghuy(v)di hi:sgi ade:lv su:dali:ne ayé:hli
to pay, he five money sixth half
dhaliné:hno: su:dali iyany:do hi:sgi ade:lv
second, and six months five money
su: dali:ne ayé:hli ga?lohni 15 1859
sixth balf August 15th 1859
tse: gh(i)sini adu:dalv¥:v:g4 [!9] ayy u:do:hiyu
Tse:gh(i)sini he just became responsibie I truly
a:ghuyv a:?ghali:? a5 tse: gh({i)sini
be just paid it in full + Tse:gh(i)sini
(THIRD PAGI)

1859

1859
idigv:n(e)di tsi:dhu:v:ga gani:sadi:sdi u:tse:li
Idigv :n(e)df he just owes me bed his
niga: hl(i)sda dhadl(a)du iyanv:do u:ghuy(v)df
it just became twelve months to pay, he
guyé:gwo:ni gha?lv 29ne i:ga G:ghuy(v)di
July month 29th day to pay, he
ghane: gi ayV go:wé:la:g4 ino: li gha?
he just agreed I I just wrote it Ino:li now

17 This numeral is crossed out.

18 The heirs.

19 The first syllable is erroneously written wu.

ANTHROP. PAP,

No. 75] CHRONICLES OF WOLFTOWN—KILPATRICK
hi?a?hno: idigv:n(e)di u:ghuyv:hv [7°]
this, and Idfgy :n(e)df he bas paid it
ade:lv (?] {2} u:do:hiyu a:gigi:sv: gi
money [?] truly I did receive it (hard)
ino: li gha? hi?a?hno: 8:Si
Tno:li now this, and yet
a:ghuyv a: ?ghali:? idigv:n(e)df
he just paid it in full Idigv :n (e) di
gha?lv 2ne i:ga
month 2d day
hi?a? a’?hw(i)dayari nu:ghuyv:dvgw6
this A*bw(i)daya:l not, he paid, just
ahv:ga li: di a:se?dhlv [22]
she just put it (hard) down Li:di one counted it
nani: gv
the amount
hi?a?hno: gu:la:tsi ayé: bli a: ghuy(v)di a:gi
this, and Gu:la:tsi half to pay, he
8a:2wo ade:lv 100
one money $1.00
diga: hl (i)li: gi u:ghuyv:hv tso?gi:nd:d(v)di
Diga:hl(i)la:gi ho has paid it three-fourths
do: yunt:si u:ghuyv: hv [3]
Do:yuni:si he has paid it
a:hyVi:ni u:ghuyv:hohnv
A:byvi:ni he bas paid it in full
hi?a?sgini ga:se?pa nigd:dv
this, in particular I just counted it all value
nu:h!G)sadanidé:lv wini u:tse:li
it happened Wini hers
$38.80
$38.80
hi?a’hno: du: hnigi:sv ade:lv da:tsi:dhu:gv
this, and sent away, them money
niga: dv gd: (l(a) tsugi:so? hnv [25}
all already he received all of them: (hard)
hi?igd: v [2¢] $24.10
this, in amount $24.10
a:sihno: degé: tsidhu: g¥ hi?a? niga: v [7°]
yet, and they owe this amount
(AT BOTTOM OF PAGE)
hi?a? de: gi a:tsi:dhu:gv:i wini udhu:tsv: hi
this De:gi she was owed Wini ower, she

20 The final syllable is erroneously written wu.

41 This word is garbled,

21 The final syllable is erroneously written /z.

% The penultimate syllable is erroneously written o.
24 The final syllable is erroneously written dz.

28 The penultimate syllable is erroneously written sa.
% The final syllable is erroneously written hz.

ayV
I

tsu:ld:lv:ef
which he did not finish

ga?lohni
August

1860
1860

tsula:sgi
pot

ade:lv
money

he just took it (hard)

75
$0.75
75
$0.75

260
$2.60

tsu: gv: wa:hl(o)di

ga:n(a)di:dhvnv [4]
it is put up for sale

he extended credit to several places

$9.905
$9.95

eho:hi

now

76 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 196

i:ga ga?lohni 16ne i:ga hi?a? nu:sdi niga: hl(i)sda
day August 16th day this was it just became
a:hni digo: we: li:sgi ino:li:yi
here clerk, I Ino:li-place
ahhnuwo: gi ada:nv:ne:l¥: hi na:sgwo
clothing given, it also
ahhnuwo:gwo unv:di 1 ade:lv
cloth, just to put it (flex.) down, he 1 money
60 ani:se:n(i)si i:gd:i tsu:g¥:wa:hl(o)di
60 cents in all worth

ayv gha:tsi go: wé:la:g4 1859
1 Gha:tsi I just wrote it 1859

FREE TRANSLATION

(FIRST PAGE)
July 29, 1859
Now! st:sghwa became responsible for the sale of the possessions
of the late Wini by her surviving spouse.
A®hw(i)daya:i was the highest bidder for a pot. Li:di

asked for it and-took-it with her 12 22 et eode52 eee 3 5 ee $1. 00
Do:yuni:si was the highest bidder for a dress. T'so:tsaga
Became surety for the debt 4 2eee eo Sees ee $0. 75
Diga:hi(i)li:gi was the highest bidder for a dress. Uwo--
ha: se:ht became surety for the debt___..._....-.------------ $1. 50
A:hyvi:ni was the highest bidder for a dress. Da-dhloda
beeamieisuretyor the debt__ - . 025. - teesetet t=. $2. 35
Ge:hyahi was the highest bidder for a dress. Tse:gh(t)sina
pacumesurety tor thedebt. 258s 2222 24" sec ee ee $2. 25
A:li was the highest bidder for a dress. Jno:l1 became
SHEELyaOr GO debt... 96a. oe $5. 50
A:hyvi: ni was the highest bidder for some pins__---_-------- $0. 25
$0. 07
[?]
$5. 05 $0. 11
$0. 15 $15. 06
$0. 18 $0. 12
$0. 12 $0. 13
$1. 00 $8. 55 $14. 09
$24.15 $15. [2]4
$36. 15

Those who bought on credit will have 12 months in which to pay
the surviving spouse.
$1. 00 $8. 37
$1. 00 $13. 62
$2. 00

er ee ial CHRONICLES OF WOLFTOWN-—KILPATRICK 77

$2. 50 $0. 50 $22. 62
$1.00 $0.20 $1.00
$0. 60 $2, 12
$0. 50 $0. 75
$3. 50
$0. 55

(SECOND PAGE)
Wini’s bed, worth $1.00, just became Jdigv:n(e)di’s. (He just
paid all of what he owed—$1.00.) He has 12 months in which to pay
me, Jno:li, what he owes me. I just wrote this on August 15th.

He is to pay by July 29, 1860.
I, the clerk, Zno:li.

A?hw(i)daya:v’s pot which was here, Z2:di took. She got it with-
out paying any money. I, Jno:li, approved it August 21, 1860.
(He just paid in full on July 30th.) Tso-tsaga has become surety.
I approved it + Tso:tsaga.

Diga:hl(i)li: gi paid all of what he owed, $0.75 $4.50. Uwo-ha:se-:hi
has become surety. He just made it good—$0.75.

A:hyvi:ni owed. A-hyvi:nt has paid it—$2.45. He paid a small
amount August 2nd. He just decreased the debt $0.90, August [?].
Da:dhlvda has become surety. I approved it + Da-dhloda.

Ge:hyahi owed. She just paid in fully July 30, 1860—$2.25.
Tse: gh(i)sini has become surety. I approved it + Tse: gh(t)sini.

A:l owed. It became necessary for her to pay $3.37[?] A:u—
$5.50. Ino:l1 has become surety. I approved it July 30th +
Ino:la.

Here in Wolftown Township the survivor had a sale. Those whose
names are written here have 12 months in which to pay—from July
29, 1859 to July 29, 1860.

I, the Wolftown clerk, Zno:li.

It became necessary to write that Sa-li, who was to pay $1.00,
just paid it in full.

Both of them decided that Idigv:n(e)di was to pay $11.00. Of
what he owed Winz’s estate, he was to pay half, $5.00, in 3 months
on the 6th, and the second half, $5.00, in 6 months on the 6th
August 15, 1859. Tse:gh(i)sini just became surety. I approved it.
He paid it in full. + Tse:gh(i)sini.

(THIRD PAGE)

1859

Idigv:n(e)di owes me for the bed that just became his. I,
Ino:li, just wrote that he agreed to pay in 12 months, on July 29th.
747-014-686

78 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BoLL. 196

Now! Idigv: (e)di has paid $10.00 that I, Ino:li, actually received.
Now! This that he owed, Idigv: n(e)di paid in full, August 2, 1860.

A?hw(i)daya:i did not pay for the pot. Li:di just brought it back.
The amount of money was counted.

In order to pay half Gu:la:tsi just borrowed $1.00.

Diga:hl ijl: gt paid $0.75.

Do: yunt: st paid $0.75.

A:hyvi:nt has paid in full—$2.60.

I just appraised the value of everything of Winv’s put up for sale—
$38.80.

This money was sent to the survivor. He extended credit to
several persons. He already received all of this amount—$24.10.

They still owe this amount—$9.95.

(AT BOTTOM OF PAGE)

Wini owed De:gi [?], and today, August 16th, at clerk Ino:li’s
place, this is what just happened: he gave her clothing, and also
cloth, worth $1.60 in all.

I, Gha:tsi, just wrote this. 1859

COMMENTARY

The T'si:sghwa who had charge of the sale may have been the chief
heir (if so, the Terrell Roll is in error) or else a Wolftown official.
We see here what some of the personal effects of a probably rather
well-to-do Cherokee woman consisted of in 1859, together with the
auction values thereof. The relatively high prices that dresses
brought is an arresting fact.

Of salient interest is the device of requiring someone to become
surety for a debt to the township. And we see that the principle of
caveat emptor was not in force: Li:di returned the pot.

Although it would seem that at least two individuals among the
Eastern Cherokee at this period have the name A-hyui:ni (‘He
Swims’), the successful bidder here may have been the great conjuror
Swimmer himself (see Mooney and Olbrechts, 1932).

The major portion of this record was penned by Ino-:li, but the
entry by Gha:tsi at the end recounts a barter of especial interest.

Certain items of Wini’s estate must surely not have been offered
for sale, although Wini died under unusual circumstances. According
to Cherokee custom the person who ministers to the needs of one
mortally ill gets first choice of that person’s personal effects. If this
individual is not the spouse, it is most commonly the youngest child
for whom it is the custom to remain at home even after marriage.
One wonders why the distinct tendency of the Cherokees to adhere
to the principle of ultimogeniture has not been fully reported.

Mooney’s caption is: ‘Sale of Personal Effects of Wini.”’

ae aia CHRONICLES OF WOLFTOWN-——KILPATRICK 79

NO. 28.—PETITION TO JAMES W. TERRELL AND TAX RECORD

(FIRST NOTATION)

gha? hi?a? ude: dhiyV:sadhi:sv aye:bli [?7] a: ghuy(v)di
now this year tax to pay it, one
u:sgwalv:v hi?a’?hno: nu:sdi otsada:n(v)dhv:li
it became time this, and way we just thought
ha:hni wahhy6: hi o:tsé:hi o:gi:hnigV:gagwé ade:iv
this here wolf-place we residers we lack it, just money
na:sgihno: iyd:sdi itsv?1G?tsi dala:la
that, and why we just came to you Dala:la
ge:tsvlV¥V:ghw(o)di [23] itsv :hné:tshe:lv uhne?’gwo:tsv:
your beloved ones we asked you the increased

hf: ya: dho?hihf ghv:nigwo do:gado:v do:go:hwé:le:sdi
you donor plain, just our names they will be written
ayv o:sigwo tsi:ye:lv:na agigv: wiyuhi ts (i) sgili
I good, just I just approved I, chief Ts(i)sgili
u:dv:hnv [?°} a:yvhno: da: dhivda o:sigwo tsi: ye:lv:na
he stated I, and Da:dhivda good, just I just approved
ayv ino:li aye: hii tsigh(a)dhf:ya gha? hi?a?hno:i: gai
I Tno:l tax I watch it now this, and in amount
otsi: dhayo: hiv 8a: 2wo ade:lv di:sgiyo:hi?se?di
we asked for it one money to turn it over to us, you
gesé:sdi iyo:tsiti do: gado:v da:go:hwe:lv
it will be this many of us our names we wrote them
a:hni wahhy6: hi sga:dia: gi ge:sv guyé:gwo: ni
here wolf-place township it is July

29ne i:ga 1859

29th day 1859

ts(i)sgilié: gwa 50
Ts(i)sgilié:gwa $0.50
da:dhivda 100 [2°]
Da:dhivda $1.00
dihye:lid6:hi

Dihye:lid6:hi

ino:]i

Tno:li

ga:gama 50
Ga:gama $0.50
ts4:n(i)la:tsi 100
Ts&:n(i)la:tsi $1.00
— [21] gu:dagi:sgi 45
- Gu:dagi:sgi $0.45
di: ghuyi:sgi 5
Di:ghuyi:sgi $0.05
wahhbyani:da 20
Wahbhyani:da $0.20

37 Another meaning of this protean word.

33 There is a superfluous syllable i following ¢e.

2? The last syliable is erroneously written hna.

22 As usual, Zno-li’s use of the dollar sign is erratic.
31 We do not know the significance of this mark.

80 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Buxy. 196

u:dhlivna:da 25
U:dhivna:da $0.25
wa:sida?na u:wa?nv 50
Wa:sida?na U:wa?nv $0.50
idigv:ne:hi 100
Idigv:ne:hi $1.00
ila: gwi [*] 40
la:gwi $0.40
a?hw(i)daya:i 100
A?hw(i)daya:i $1.00
do:yunf:si 40
Do:yuni:si $0.40
tsulé: gild 25
Tsul6:gilé $0.25
tsa:li 20
Tsa:li $0.20
a?hw(i)gado:ga 100
A?hw(i)gado:ga $1.00
tai:sghwa 25
Tsi:sghwa $0.25
— tso:tsaga

- Tso:tsaga

amasu: yi 100
Amasu:yl $1.00
— sgwa:gini 100
- Sgwa:gini $1.00

— da:sgigidi: hi
~ Da:sgigidi:hi
— gu:la:tsi

- Gu:la:tsi

(SECOND PAGB)
25 [33] salo:lanf:da 100
25 Salo:lani:da $1.00
26 ts4:nilo:sf $100
26 Ts4:nilo:si $1.00
27 tsutso:ladha
27 Tsutso:ladha
28 gawo: hilo:sgf [*4] 65
28 Gawo:hflo:sg!i $0.65
29 wi:1(i)sini $100
29 Wi:1(i)sini $1.00
30 wa: wole:sidi [#5]
30 Wa:wole:sidi
3] dalo:nige
31 Dalo:nige
32 i:sadi: hi 50
32 I:sadi:hi $0.50
33 wa: gigu 25
33 Wa:gigu $0.25

32 The second syllable is erroncously written na.
33 On the second page Zno:li numbers the names,
54 ‘The first syllable is erroneously written go.

35 The third syllable is erroneously written Ja.

ge ae ia CHRONICLES OF WOLFTOWN—RKILPATRICK 81

34 dhlv: datsi

34 Dhiv:datsi

35 da: gwadi: hi $100

35 Da:gwadi:hi $1.00

36 dhlvdi:sdi 25

36 Dhivdi:sdi $0.25

37 ule: yoe 100

37 Ule:yoe $1.00

38 sa:mi $100

38 Sa:mi $1.00

39 a:tsi 25

39 A:tsi $0.25

40 de: nili 50

40 De:nili $0.50

41 ul4:sda?a

41 Ul&:sda?é

42 tsuna:sdala

42 Tsuna:sdala

43 do:tsu:lé?hny 50

43 Do: tsu:]é?hnv $0.50

44 du:nawi a:ghuyv a: ?ghali:? 25 [38]

44 Du:nawi he just paid it in full $0.25

digo: we: li:sgi wahbhy6: hi sga:du:gi ge:Sv na:hna

clerk, I wolf-place township it is there

ge:3, go:wé:la:g4 ga?lohni {37} guyé:gwo:nf gha?ly

I belong I just wrote it August July month

29ne i:ga 1859 ayy ino:li

29th day 1859 I Ino:li

dalo:nige

Dalo:nige

le:si

Le:si

tso: tsaga

Tso:tsaga

yo:ntiwo:hl4é

Yo:naiwo:hl&

ghanohi: yadv

Ghanohi:yadv

AZ

47

1859 1860 1861 ae 1862 [38]

1859 1860 1861 nila 1862
(SECOND NOTATION)

hi?a? wi:1(i)sini tsiyadho:hl(a)sda ade:lv $50

this Wi:1(i)sini I just lent him money $0.50

nv :ddde:gwé 7ne i:ga u:ghuy(v)di:yi

November 7th day to pay it, he

86 This numeral is crossed out.
37 Ino:li appears to have forgotten to cross out August, written in errors
88 We do not know the significance of these dates.

82 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Buny. 196
nv:déde:gw4 28ne i:ga a:silu:la a:ghuyv
November 28th day yet, he does not finish he just paid it
aye:hli 50 nv: ddde:gw4 i:ga
tax $0.50 November day
u:wa’nvy [2] a:ghuyv a: ?ghali:? nv:dide:gw4 24ne
U:wa?nv he just paid it in full November 24th
i:ga 25 [19]
day $0.25
do:tsu:lé?hnv a:ghuyv [“] 50
Do:tsu:lé?hnv he just paid it $0.50
u:dhivna:da a:ghuyv [#] 25
U:dhivna:da he just paid it $0.25
de: nili a:ghuyv de: nili a:ghali:tsa
De:nili he just paid it De:nili he just made it fuly
hi?[gh(a)}sgo: hi ani:se:n(i)si 50
fifty cents $0.50
ts4:n(i)la:tsi 10
Ts&:n(i)la:tsi $0.10
(THIRD NOTATION, BOTTOM OF PAGE, UPSIDE DOWN)
hi?a? la: hw(i)sini a:hv:ga [*%] 75
this La:hw(i)sini he just put it (hard) down money $0.75
vsghi:yi gha?lv 17ne i:ga go:lada [44]
December month 17th day he just reduced it
ayv digo: we: lf:sgi a:le ade:lvtsigh(a)dhi:ya ino:li
I clerk, I and money, I watch it Ino:
1860
1860
hi?a? idigv:ne:hi a:hv:ga ade:lv 100
this Idigv:ne:hi he just put it (hard) down money $1.00
vsghi: yi gha?ly 25ne 1860
December month 25th 1860
(FOURTH NOTATION, BOTTOM OF PAGE, UPSIDE DOWN)
hi?a? a:ghuyv ule: yoe si: ghwa ga:n(o)dhanv
this he just paid it Ule:yoe pig he put it up for sale
a:tsi:dhu:gv 100 10 8a: £WwO ade:lv a@:SZo
been owed by him $1.10 one money ten
ani:se:n(i)si vsghi: [yi] 25ne 1860
cents December 25th 1860

FREE TRANSLATION

(FIRST NOTATION)

Now! It became time to pay this year’s tax, and this is what we
thought here in Wolftown where we live: we lack money, and that

29 This name is crossed out.

40 This numeral is crossed out.

41 The first syllablo is erroneously written %.

42 The first syllable is erroneously written u.
43 The second syllable is erroneously written 9,
44 The final syllable is erroneously written ga.

ANTHROP. PAP.
No. 75]

CHRONICLES OF WOLFTOWN—KILPATRICK

83

is why we come to you, beloved Dala:la. We asked you to donate

the increased amount.

Our names will be written plainly.

“T, Chief Ts(z)sgilt, believed it was the right thing,” he stated.

“And I, Da-:dhlvda, believed it was the right thing.”
“Also I, Jno:li, the tax collector.”

Now! This is the amount we asked you to turn over to us—$1.00.

this many of us wrote our names here in Wolftown, July 29, 1859.

© COONS OB & bo

. Ts(r)sgilté: gwa
. Da: dhlvda

. Dihye:lidé :hi
. Ino

Ga: gama

. Tsd:n(ijla: isi
. Gu:dagi: sgt

. Di: ghuyi:sgr
. Wahhyani: da
10.
ls
12.
13.
14.
15.
16.
LZ.
18.
19,
20.
7A
22.
23.
24.
25.
26.
27.
28.
29.
30.
31.
32.
33.
34.
35.
36.

U:dhlona: da
Wa: sida?na U:wa?nv
Idigu:ne:ha
Tla:gur
A?hw(t)daya:1
Do:yuni:sr
Tsuld : gilda
Tsa:li
A?hw(t)gado: ga
Tsi:sghwa
Tso:tsaga
Amasu:yt
Sqwa:gini

Da: sgigidi: hr
Gu:la: tsi
Salo:lani:da
Tsé:nilo: si
Tsutso:ladha
Gawo: hilo: sgi
Wi:l(t)sini
Wa: wole: sidr
Dalo:nige

I: sadi:ha

Wa: gigu

Dhiv: datsi

Da: gwadi:hi
Dhlodi: sdi

$0. 50
$1. 00

$1. 00
$0. 25

84 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Bunn. 196

37. Ule:yoe $1. 00
38. Sa:mi $1. 00
39. A-isa $0. 25
40. De:nilr $0. 50

41. Uldé:sda?a

42. Tsuna: sdala

43. Do:tsu:lé?hnw $0. 50
44, Du:nawi he paid in full $0. 25

I, Ino:li, the clerk of Wolftown Township where I live, just wrote
this July 29, 1859.

Dalo:nige
Le: st
Tso:tsaga
Yo:niwo: hla
Ghanohi: yadv
47

(SECOND NOTATION)

On November 7th I just lent Wi:1(2)sint $0.50, to be repaid on
November 28th. He has not yet finished paying. He paid his tax
$0.50, on November 24th.

U:wa?nv paid in full, $0.25, November 24th.

Do:tsu:lé?hnv paid $0.50.

U:dhluna:da paid $0.25.

De:nili paid. De:nili paid it in full, $0.50.

GeO (DG IGb = aos ee Se ee ee $0. 10

(THIRD NOTATION, BOTTOM OF PAGE, UPSIDE DOWN)

La: hw(%)sini just reduced his debt. He put down $0.75 December
17th.
I, Ino:li, clerk and treasurer.

1860
Idigv:ne:hi just put down $1.00, December 25, 1860.

(FOURTH NOTATION, BOTTOM OF PAGE, UPSIDE DOWN)
Ule:yoe paid with a pig that he put up for sale. He owned $1.10.
December 25, 1860.
COMMENTARY

We infer that taxes had been raised on the Thomas lands on Qualla
Boundary and that the Cherokee were hard pressed to pay them—

Nowe CHRONICLES OF WOLFTOWN—KILPATRICK 85
hence the appeal to James W. Terrell, Thomas’ factor at the Qualla
trading post.

The Cherokee held Terrell in almost as much affection and respect
as they did Thomas himself. Thomas lived close to the site of the
former Cherokee town of Sdigho:y1, near what is now Whittier. He
left Terrell in complete charge at Qualla. His honorable relations
with the Cherokee (at one period he was their official agent) and his
personal loyalty to Thomas cast a bright light upon his character
(Russell, MS., 1956, passim). He was not only a gentleman but
something of a scholar; his ‘“The Demon of Consumption’”’ (Teerrell,
1892), for example, is known to all students of Cherokee folklor.

Terrell served as the captain of a Cherokee company under Thomas
during the War Between the States. Since the Indians called him
Dala:la (‘Redheaded Woodpecker’) one wonders about the color of
his hair.

In the document above 7s(2)sgilié:gwa states that he was chief of
Wolftown. Presumably Da-:dhlvda was also a Wolftown official.

One doubts that Terrell was able to be of much financial assistance
to his Cherokee friends. At this time of his life (he was 20 years old)
he was quite poor himself.

Mooney’s note reads: ‘‘Signers Ask Capt. Terrell to Help Pay their
Taxes.”

NO. 29.—THE CLERK PAYS WOLFTOWN OFFICIALS

(FIRST NOTATION)

4: ghuy(v)di tsiniga:hl(i)sda digu:gh(o)di:sgi
to pay, one which it just became judge
a:ghuyVv:e?di wa: huhu digo: hwe:li:sgi de:nili [45]
to pay him, one Wa:huhu clerk, he De-nili

a: ghuyV:e?di ge:svigi na:sgwo wa: huhu
to pay him, one it was also Wa:buhu
a:ghuyV:e?df niga: hl(i)sda $1.805 [4] ga:ghuyv
to pay him, one it just became $18.05 I paid it
ayv da: dhlvda [#7] a: ?ghali:? nigv:ga duni:n(o)dhi
I Da: dhlivda in full I just made it October
gha?ly 7ne i:ga 1859 digo: we:li:sgi go:wé:la:ga
month 7th day 1859 clerk, I I just wrote it
ayv ino:li

I Ino-li

(SECOND NOTATION)

ts(i)sgili u:sdf:ga [4] tsiyadho:1(a)sda ade:lv
Ts(i)sgili U:sdi:ga I just lent him money
4 ‘Daniel.’

48 Ino:li’s decimal point is misplaced.
47 ‘He-Just-Put-Them-(long)-Down.’
48 ‘Little Screech-owl.’

86 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 196
$100 du[ni:]n(o) di gha?ly 7ne i:ga a:ghuyv
$1.00 October month 7th day he paid it
u?hnegwo:tsv: 110

it increased $1.10

FREE TRANSLATION
(FIRST NOTATION)
It has become necessary to pay. The judge, Wa-huhu, is to be
paid by the clerk. De:niliis also to be paid. Wa-:huhu’s recompense
was $18.05. I paid it. I just paid Da:dhivda in full.

On October 7, 1859 I just wrote this.
I, Ino:li

(SECOND NOTATION)

I just lent Ts(t)sgili U:sdi:ga $1.00, October 7th. He paid the
interest, $0.10.

COMMENTARY

De:nilt and Da:dhivda appear to have been township officials,
but their titles are not given.

Cherokee, orally one of the most precise of languages, when im-
pregnated with that rectitude that peculiarly derives from conscien-
tious petty officialdom, tends to become remarkably diffuse when
written. It would appear, however, that the borrower mentioned
in the second notation paid his interest in advance.

There is no Mooney caption for this document.

NO. 30.—COLLECTIONS AND DISBURSEMENTS: ESTATE OF WINI

gha? hi?a?sgini u:yo:hu:sv wini du: dadhu: ga
now this, in particular she died Wint owed by them, she
tsu:n(a)ghuyv:dhany a:sgwanigo:do?di gv: gi

what they paid with to keep it, I he just took it (hard)
tsu:n(a)ghuyv:dhany gv: ghine: tsi
what they paid with they just asked me
nv:ddide: gw4 28ne 1859 widani:la: wihv
November 28th 1859 over there they met
da:nu:gh(o)da nigd: di [4] agwada:n(v)dhelida:sdi
they just decided all of them to plan, I

ayv ino: li gadu:lv ne:hv:ga du: yu: gh(o)dv
I Ino: the top make it, you (imp.) right

a: gwagh(a)sa:sdo?di niga: hl(i)sda hi?a?
to examine it, I it just became this
idigv:n(e) di [] a:tsi:dhu:gv u:ghuyv:hv ade:lv
Idigy:n(e)di which he owed he paid it money

4° Animate,
60 “To-Make-Them, One.’

ake ah el CHRONICLES OF WOLFTOWN—KILPATRICK 87

5]
$10 [51 hi?a?hno: ne: gi a:tsi:dhu:gv u:ghuyv:hv
$10.00 this, and Ne:gi Which she owed she paid it
abhnuwo: gi a:ghuyv:da $100 [51] hi?a?hno: de: gi [52]
clothing paid for, it $1.00 this, and De:gi
go:lada [*] uwe: tsi ahhnuwo a:ghuyv:da [*] une: gv
Go:lada his child cloth paid for, it white
hi?a?hno: e:ni ughuyv:hv:dhanv agi:n{a)dhinyv
this, and E ini she paid it with sackful
sv: ghi 10 hi?a?hno: asi: hw(i)dv 4: gihwahi:sdi
onions $0.10 this, and colored, it to buy it, I
niga: hl(i)sda tsu: gv: wa:hl(o) di 305 hi?a?hno:
it just became cost $3.05 this, and
na:sgwo ghane:sa a:ghuy(v)di aye: hli
also box to pay, one central
adho:1(i)sdi ga?lohni gha?lyv hisgadusi:ne
to borrow, one August month fifth
i:ga na:sgi a:ghuy(v)di niga: hl(i)sda hi?a?
day that to pay, one it just became this
i:gasi nigi:dv agi:dv higi ade:lv
in amount all I collected it (hard) this it is money
250 a:ma u:hwahi:sdi tsihu:si
$2.50 salt to buy it, he I just gave it (hard) to him
ade: ly 50 hi?a?hno: ghahl(i)se: tsi a:ghiwahi
money $0.50 this, and sugar I just bought it
50 vsghi: yi [5] 12ne i:ga 1859
$0.50 December 12th day 1859

FREE TRANSLATION

Now! He [the principal heir] just took what I was keeping, paid
by those who owed the estate of the dead Wini. At the meeting on
November 28, 1859, they all decided that I, Ino:li, was to take charge,
bring everything to light and make it right.

Idigu:n(e)di paid what he owed___-----_---_-- $10. 00
The clothing for which Ne:gi owed has been
(i (Nose a en S| enn oe Nala? & $1. 00

The white cloth for which De:gi, Go:lada’s
child, owed has been paid for.

E:ni paid with a sackful of onions_.._______.-- $0. 10
The colored [cloth] which I had to buy, valued
hs ee Se SE te, Bd $3. 05

You need to repay the township what was borrowed for the coffin.
This was to be paid on August 5th.

This is the amount I collected and you received_ $2. 50

$1 Crossed out in the manuscript.

53° Peggy.’

58 ‘He-Just-Decreased-It.’

64 The second syllable is erroneously written ghi.

45 There is a superfluous syllable ho following the first syllable.

88 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 196

The money I gave him to buy salt_____-_-_---_-- $0. 50
TP Poughh susie: Ws ower ee ee £0. 50

December 12, 1859
COMMENTARY

Evidently it was not the official duty of any member of the township
to take care of the complete disposition of the estates of the deceased.
Someone was appointed to serve each specific phase of this task.

Collections and disbursements in this itemization are not clearly
differentiated. The colored cloth may have been purchased from
estate funds for the funeral: ‘The coffin... is sometimes covered
with black cloth, nailed down by tacks’’ (Mooney and Olbrechts, 1932,
p. 136). In Oklahoma up until a generation ago the coffin was almost
invariably so draped. A bill of sale in the possession of the authors,
dated April 7, 1893, lists items purchased for the funeral of a male
Cherokee (Cox, MS., 1893):

Vo 1s yds blk @alicn yom ee 2 ($0. ]95
SEG ABU IG MIONIC = 2 a te eee ak 95
oy or GLOVOS.. = =e 2 =e = bee 25
Tol pr Spackine|s]_.. anf...» Ae ies 10
To 1 pr [sic] White-Hdkerchief____________-- 10
|) A er ES eee 10
APORL paper, PHCKS oe ee le ee 5
To 1 pr Slipper shoes Prince Albert__-_------ 1. 50

She SOU) Ge RIS LS SERS, TMG TA EE ge 4.00

The salt, too, may have been a funeral expense, the money for
which was given to the chief heir out of sale proceeds, or advanced to
him. It was once the custom in North Carolina to place a vessel of
salt upon the breast of the corpse (Mooney and Olbrechts, 1932, p.
134). If this practice existed in Oklahoma, it has not been reported.

The entry concerning sugar is obscure. Perhaps it records the dis-
position of an item left over from the sale of July 29th.

Mooney’s designation “Company Debts—WW” is in error: the
Gadu:g(i) was in no way involved.

NO. 31—EXPENSE ACCOUNT: RECOVERING A HORSE

gha? hi?a?sgini so: gwil(i) tsa: giyohu:se:lvV: gi
now this, in particular horse that I did lose

ga?lohni tsigha: ?lv: gi ha: hnigwo ga?du:si
August which month this here, just mountain
tsagihyo:bv: gi hi?a?hno: no:gwo 4: gwagh(a)say (a)sdo?di

that I did bunt this, and now to examine it, 1

fo ue CHRONICLES OF WOLFTOWN—KILPATRICK 89
nu:hl(i)sdany si:nv:dogwé a:sigwo
then it became month ago, just about, just
a:hliyé?li:s¥ nv:ddde: gw4 29 na: gwo
passing, it November 29th now

a: gwadeloho:sv: gi [°°] na:sgihno: a: gwaghuy(v)di
I did find out that, and to pay, I

nu: hl(i)sdanv $4 agwenv :sv: gi diga:du:hv
then it became $4.00 I did go town
nv:ddde:gw4 a:sgwadi:sgv tsa: li ga:hwi:li
November finishing, it Tsa:li Ga:hwi:li
ane: tsvdi:sdf:sgi a: gwaghuy (v) di nu:hl(i)sdanv
one who Interprets to pay, I then it became

$5 i: yadi: hwisgi [*7] go:hiy(u)di:sgi agh(i)dhu: ga $5
$5.00 T:yadi: hwisgi one who witnesses I owe him $5.00
a:gwe:do:lv:hno su: dali tsudé: dagwadv s8V:no:yi
I made the trip, and six days nights
hi:sgi ayé: hli igo: hi:dv hi?a?hno: So: gwil(i)
five one-half nightly stopovers this, and horse
a:gw(a)dho:hl(a)sdanv 75 tsuléd: gilahné: [58] 80 : gwil(i)
he lent it to me $0.75 Tsul6:gil4, and horse
a:gw/(a)dho:hl(a)sdanv 25 tse: gwAdi: hf [59]
he lent it to me $0.25 Tse:gwA&di:hi

une: ts(v)dhanv 25 hi?a? tsigowé: la: g4
he interpreted $0.25 this which I just wrote
vsghi: yi 8 i:ga ude: dhiyV:sadi:sv¥ 1859 ayv
December 8th day year 1859 r
digo: we: lf:sgi tse: gh(i)sini sga:di:gi wahhyé: [hi]
clerk, I Jackson County wolf-place
sga:dd: gi ino: li

township Ino:li

FREE TRANSLATION

Now! It has become necessary to examine the matter of this horse
that I lost and that I hunted in the month of August here on

the mountain.

Now about a month ago, I found out about it. I went to

town at the end of November.

I made a trip of 6 days and stayed
Tsul6: gild lent a horse to me

I had to pay
I had to pay Tsa:li Ga:hwi:li, the interpreter
I owe I: yadi: hwisgi, the witness

over 5% nights.

Tserouddr- he mterpreted... _ www ee ee

$0. 25

This I just wrote December 8, 1859, I, the clerk of Jackson County

and Wolftown Township,

88 The fifth syllable is erroneously written 20.
87 ‘Pumpkin-Planter.’

88 ‘Clouds.’

59 “Killer-of-Large-Ones.’

Ino:li

90 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLn. 196

COMMENTARY

Although there is much in the foregoing that is not clear, the in-
ordinate expense involved, speaking in terms of the buying power of
the 1859 dollar, is quite evident. The horse in question may have
been taken up by some White man, hence the necessity for the services
of interpreters; and the $4.00 possibly represents the expense of a trip
to and sojourn in some town such as Waynesville or Webster in the
vicinity of Qualla. The witness and principal interpreter would have
accompanied Jno:li, hence their requirement of $5.00 each. One
can see that Ino:li could have been obliged to hire a horse for the
trip due to the loss of his only saddle horse.

The Wolftown Council may have had a policy of defraying, or
helping to defray, expenses incurred by a Wolftown citizen in a
litigation with a White man, hence this expense account.

Mooney’s caption reads: “Inali—Cost of recovering Horse.”

NO. 32.—TOWNSHIP COLLECTIONS, LOANS, AND EXPENDITURES

u:1(a)sdu: [hi] tsiyadho:1(a)sda a:lv:tsi u:yo:hu:sv
U:l(a)sdu:hi I just lent him A:ly:tsi he died
u:tse:lf:ga $480 duni:n(o)dhi gha?lv 20ne i:ga
his $4.80 October month 20th day
gha? hi?a?sgini lidi agi

now this, in particular Lidi she just took it (hard)
ade:lv 50 defha]lu: yi gha?lyv 19ne i:ga
money $0.50 June month 19th day
wa:huhu tsiyadho:1(a)sda ade:lv a:ghuyv a: ?ghali:?
Wa:huhu T just lent him money he just paid it in full

$100 [°°] duni:n(o)dhi gha?lv 2ne i:ga 1860
$1.00 October month 2d day 1860
gu:la:tsi a:gi ade:lv $200 a?n(a)sgv:dhi
Gu:la:tsi he just took it (hard) money $2.00 May

gha?lv 7ne i:ga 1861
month 7th day 1861

wini a:tsi:dhu:gv a:ghuy¥:dv niga: hl(i)sda
Wini she owed paid, it it just became
ge:hyahi a:gh(a)ghuyv:i ge: hyaf{hi} u:tse:If:ga
Ge:hyahi it has been paid Ge:byafhi] hers

niga: hl(i)sda a:go:lo:hi 75 25
it just became it just lessened $0.75 $0.25
do:tsu:lé?hnv a:gh(a)ghuyv:[i} do:tsu:lé?hnv
Do:tsu:16?hny it has been paid Do:tsu:lé?hnv
u:dhu:gv a:hv:na 250
he owed he just removed it $2.50
li: di a:tsi:dhu: gv a:ghuyV:dv niga: hl(i)sda $2.12
Li: di she owed paid, it it just, became $2.12

60 Crossed out.

no ee CHRONICLES OF WOLFTOWN—KILPATRICK 91
tse: gh(i)sini a:gh(a)ghuyv:i
Tse:gh(i)sIni it has been paid
a:ghuyv a:li $3 tso?anisida: hv: g4
she just paid it A:li $3.00 three, they just came for it (hard)
wini u:yo:hu:sv uni:sido?di ghane:sa ago:sv:nd:ne:lyv
Wini she died to push it, they box made for her, it
a:ghuyv:hv 250
paid for, it $2.50
wa: huhu tsiyadho:1l(a)sda ade:lv $200 vsghi: yi
Wa:huhu I just lent him money $2.00 December
gha?lv 25ne i:ga 1860 a:ghuyv ga?lohni
month 25th day 1866 he just paid it August
gha?lv 5ne i:ga 1861
month 5th day 1861
li: di a:gi ade:lv tsina: ni u:yo:hu:sv
Li: di sbe just took it (hard) money Tsina ni dead
u:tse:li: ga na:gwo dha?li ade:ly dugi:sv
hers now two money she took them (hard)
li: di $200
Li: di $2.00
gu:la:tsi [?] [4] sa: gwo ade:lv $100 unoly: dhani
Gu:la:tsi {?] one money $1.00 January
gha?lv go:wé:la:g4 Tne 1861
month I just wrote it 7th 1861
di: gahl(u) ghwade: gi [®] tsifya]dho: hl(a)sda ade:iv 100
Di:gahl(u)ghwade:gi I just lent him money $1.00
gha:ga?li gha?lv 23ne i:ga 1861
February mouth 28rd day 1861
tsini u:yo:hu:sv na:sgihno: ahhnuwo: gi a:ghuyv:hv 100
Tsini she died that, and clothing paid for, it $1.00
10
ga:d6:[hiJhn6é: an(a)sg6:sgi ani: dha?li a[ni]:so?i 10
ground, and tbose who dig two, they others, they $0.10
igv:yi tsu: hwa:sv ghahl(i)se: tsi 10
Igv:yi he bought sugar $0.10
wini tse:do:hv: gi e:ni gilo: hi:yi go:lada
Wini when she was walking E:ni Gilo:hi:yi Go:lada
u:tse:li aye: hl(a)sdi u:di:nv:sé
her knife she threw it away (w.p.k
tsu:lo:[sv} 100 gano:hi:dv aye: hlasdi: ga?
while sha passed $1.00 long knife, amount of
o:sdv no:tsv:ga da:dhlv:da
good then we just made it she just put them (long) down
de: gi
De:gi
a:nu[we: ]gi
A:nuwe:gi

ghanu: gada:hy
Ghanu:gada:hy

81 The word here is garbled.
62 The final syllable is erroneously written ghu.

92 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 196

FREE TRANSLATION

I just lent U:1(a)sdu:hi $4.80 from the estate of the dead A:lv-tsi,
October 20th.

Now! J7:di just took $0.50, June 19th.

I just lent Wa:huhu $1.00. He paid it in full October 2, 1860.

Gu:la:tsi just took $2.00, May 7, 1861.

What Wini owed has just been paid.

What Ge: hyaht owed has been paid and the property became hers—

$0.75 $0.25.
What Do-:tsu:lé?hnv owed has been paid. Do-:isu:lé?hnv removed

the debt of $2.50.

What Li:di owed, $2.12, has just become paid. It was paid by
Tse: gh(i)sini.

A:li paid $3.00, and they just came for it.

The shipping of the coffin of the dead Wini has been paid for, $2.50.

I just lent Wa-huhu $2.00, December 25, 1860. He repaid it
August 5, 1861.

Ii: di took money from the estate of the dead Tsina:ni. She took
it now, $2.00.

Gu:la:tst [?] $1.00. I just wrote this January 7, 1861.

I just lent Di: gahl(u)ghwade: gi $1.00, February 23, 1861.

The burial clothing of the dead Tsini was paid for, $1.00.

Two other gravediggers, $0.10 and $0.10.

Igv:yt bought sugar, $0.10.

When Wini was alive, H:ni Gilo:hi:yt Go:lada lost her [Wini’s]
knife, worth $1.00, on her way. We have just made it right: H:ni
replaced it with some long knives.

De:gi

A:nuwe:gr

Ghanu: gada:hv
COMMENTARY

Several categories of activities by the township organization
are recorded here by clerk Jno:li, some of which have not been
reported in the literature on the North Carolina Cherokee: loans
from the estates of the deceased; collection of debts incurred at the
sale of the effects of one deceased; restitution to the heirs, through
township authority, for property of the deceased lost prior to demise;
payment by the township of funeral expenses (although we do not
learn whether the outlay was from township funds or deducted from
the estate of the deceased); and routine loans from and repayment
to the township funds.

Aa aa CHRONICLES OF WOLFTOWN—KILPATRICK 93
The import of the three names subjoined to the document is
problematical. If they are witnesses, the fact that at least two of the
three names are feminine is of interest.
Mooney’s note is simply: ‘“Borrowd [sic] Money.”

NO. 33.—RECEIPT FOR PAYMENT OF A BILL AT QUALLA STORE

(ON RECTO)

Received of Quatteh sixty five cents in full of her store account to
date April 4th 1860
Jas M Terrell
For W. W. Thomas

(ON VERSO)
a:gidi:na dala:la ga:ghuyV:sv?nd
he just took it (hard), certainly Dala:la I just finished paying
V:tsa yagh(i)dhu: ga na:gwo 639
not not I owe now 65

5.74
FREE TRANSLATION

Dala:la actually took the money. I just finished paying. Now I
do not owe anything.
COMMENTARY

This receipt is written upon a small slip of paper. Quatteh may
be the same person as No. 317 on the Terrell Roll (1860, p. 11), the
Quaitsey who was the mother of Jno:li. The one name is the
Cherokee form of ‘Betty,’ the other of ‘Betsy.’ Jno:l’s mother
was a widow and possibly lived with her son. The mathematical
calculation, the significance of which is not evident, is in Terrell’s
handwriting.

Mooney summarized the meaning of the Cherokee: “I have paid
all I owe Talala.”

NO. 34.—SALE OF THE ESTATE OF GU: DAGI:SGI

(FIRST PAGE)

1860
1860

guyé:gwo:nf gha?ly [®] u:yo:hu:sv guyé: gwo:ni gha?lvy [6]
July month he died July month
16ne i:ga go: wé:la:g4 ayv digo: we: li:sgi ino: li
16th day I just wrote it I clerk, I Tno:li
gha? hi?a? Aigh(a)sado?di niga: hl(i)sda gho:hi
Dow this to push it, I it just became now

63 Ino:ti records the death of a Gwe:dh(i)siin October 1865, on the verso of 4 sheet in Jno:li (MS8., n.d.,
No. 2236).
4 There is an extraneous ga following the first syllable.
747-014—66—_7

94 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Buy 196
i:ga gu: dagi:sgi u:tse:li:ga u:dhi:ye:lv u:[s]di: ga
day Qu: dagi:sgi his left over, it small
go:hu:sdi V:tsa ui: go:di go:hdu:sdi
something not a great deal something
a’hwi ahhnuwo:gi une:gv _ tsuna:sdala a:da:go:nad(v)da 1 100
deer clothing white Tsuna:sdala he just outbid 1 $1.00
dighano: gi:sdi [®] da:sgigidi: hi a:da:go:nad(v)da 2 $2.26 [68]
musical instrument da:sgigidi:hi he just outbid 2 $2.26
ditsu: di [7] a?hw(i) gado: ga a:da:go:nad(v)da 3 18
to boil them, one A°hw(i)gado:ga he just outbid 3 $0.18
gasale:na tsutso:ladha a:da:go:nad(v)da 4 8
coat Tsutso:ladha he just outbid 4 $0.08
aye:hl(a)sdi tsuna:sdala a:da:go:nad(v)da 5 18
knife Tsuna:sdala he just outbid 5 $0.18
u:tsi:lv:hno: dha?li idage:da 2 6 $1.2 [*]
cotton, and two pounds 2 6 $0.12
si:ghwa [®]} a

pig 7

galo: go: di V: tsa yitsig4: dhahé yi:si
hoes not not I know still
tsu:nina:sanagi:sdi 75
to carry them upon their backs, they $0.75
na:sgwo galo: go: di tsu:tse:li:ga dha?li so?i
also hoes his, they two other
galo: giso?di [?] 2 25
grubbing hoes 2 $0.25
a: tsi a:da:go:nad(v)da galo: giso?di 2 64
A:tsi he just outbid grubbing hoes 7} $0.64
de: nili ayv tsidhu: ga 10
De:nili I he owes Me $0.10
di: gahl(u) ghwade: gi tsidhu: ga a:di:ha 25
Di:gahl(u)ghwade:gi he owes Me he says $0.25
agh(i)dhu: ga [7] ayv di: gahl(u) ghwade: gi 10
I owe him I Di:gahl(u)ghwade:gi $0.10
ayv la: hw(i)sini agh(i)dhu: ga 25 25
I La:hw(i)sini Lowe $0.25 $0.25
a:yvhno: ino:li tsiyadho:hl(a)sdi [72] ade:lv 25
I, and Tno:li T loan him money $0.25
tsidhu: ga 10
he owes me $0.10
ayv tsd:nilo:si tsidhu: ga tso?gi:ni:d(v)di i:ga:i 75
I Ts4:nilo:si he owes it three-fourths in all $0.75
wi: 1(i)sini sga: tsi ayy tsidhu: ga 30
Wi:1(i)sini Sga:tsi I he owes me $0.30

§ “To play them, it.” This could be any sort of a musical instrument, but we surmise that it isa violin.
66 Jno-li is inconsistent in the use of the dollar sign.

87 *To boil them, one’—probably a large kettle without legs.

68 The cotton may not have been sold, hence no buyer’s name, but only an estimate of its value.

69 The pig may not have been sold.

70 ‘To hoe, one.’

1 This debt to a buyer may have to do with making change.

12 This tense expresses an action that began in the past and that still continues in the present.

AN 4) PAP.
a a CHRONICLES OF WOLFTOWN—KILPATRICK 95
ino:li ayv tsiyadho: hl(a)sdi $100
Tno:li I I Joan him $1.00
ga:sgwalo:sgi udhu: gv $100.10
Ga:sgwalo:sgi he owed $1.10
(SECOND PAGE)
1860
1860
guyé: gwo:ni 16ne i:ga ga?lohni 15 i:ga
July 16th day August 15 day
tsuna:sdalaghu:yv [®] ayé:hli ade:lv 50
Tsuna:sdala just paid half money $0.50
tsuna:sdala a:tsi:dhu:ga wa: huhu ayv u:do:hiyu + $126
Tsuna:sdala owed by him Wa:huhu i truly + $1.26
tsutso:ladha a:tsi:dhu:ga u:dhlvna:da ayv u:do:hiyu + 10
Tsutso:ladha owed by him U:dhivna:da I truly + $0.10
da:sgigidi:hi a:tsi:dhu:ga ayv do:tsu:lé?hnv u:do:hiyu + $2.26
Da:sgigidi:hi owed by him I Do:tsu:16?hnv truly + $2.26
a:tsi a:tsi:dhu: ga ts (i) sgili ayv u:do:hiyu + 60
A:tsi owed by him Ts(i)sgili I traly + $0.60
[two lines crossed out]______-_-- a: ?ghali:? a:ghuyv
[two lines crossed out]_---------.-------_--- in full he just paid
wa:sida?na a:ghuyv:ho?na sa: gwo ade:lv 2 iyad4:n(v)dhedhf
Wa:sida?na he just finished paying it one money 2 cents
i:gazi 15 i:ga ga?lohni 1861
in all 15 day August 1861
yi:si a:tsi:dhu:v:ga ayv du:nawi + 78
still he just owed I Du:nawi + $0.75
yi:si a:si u:hlinohf:ya 65
still yet it remains $0.65
ts4:n(i)la: tsi a:tsi:dhu:v:ga ayv da:dhlvda u:do:hiyu + 20
Ts4:n(i)la:tsi he just owed I Da:dhivda truly + $0.20
a:ghuyv a: ?ghali:? 20
he paid in full $0.20
ts4:nilo:si a:tsi:dhu:v:ga ayv u:wa’nv u:do:hiyu + $3.85
Ts4:nilo:si he just owed I U:wa?nv truly + $3.85
ts4:nilo:sif a:si u: hlinohi: ya 3
Ts&:nilo:s{ yet it remains $3.00
tsuna:sdala 1 20 55 20 [74]
Tsuna:sdala 1 20 55 20
(AT BOTTOM OF PAGE)
guyé: gwo:nf 16ne i:ga tsi :naghu: y(v)df ude: dhiyV:sadi:sv
July 16th day to pay, they year
1861 $5.42
1861 $5.42
$4.80
$4.80
$10.22 [75]
$10.22

An elision of Tsuna:sdala aghu-:yp.
™ The significance of these numerals is unknown.
% Ino-li’s totals are frequently inexplicable.

06 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLy. 196

FREE TRANSLATION

(FIRST PAGE)

1860

In July he died. On July 16th, I, Zno:li the clerk, just wrote
this.

Now! It just became necessary for me to expedite this sale dis-
posing of the small estate of Gu:dagi:sgi. He did not leave a great
deal of anything.

1. Tsuna:sdala was the highest bidder for some

white buckskin clothing_____._.__-.____-- $1. 00
2. Da:sgigidi:hi was the highest bidder for a

mypsical insimament...6: 2 Soe oo ns $2. 26
3. A?hw(i)gado:ga was the highest bidder for a

lepretiet 7 ore... Mae @ae sed: $0.18
4. Tsutso:ladha was the highest bidder for a

212 a ED CRT ape NOTCH ARIA NN an Bo ne $. 08
5. Tsuna:sdala was the highest bidder for a

kanes... beet... + uaiae= St paiven badetet eed $. 18
Gelwo (2) pounds of cotton. !ndelem .._se2t__ 3 $. 12
7. A pig.
Hoes. I do not know how many. They still

have to brim, them 2. 0... ae ee $0. 75
Also two (2) hoes of his, one a grubbing hoe____ $. 25
A:tst was the highest bidder for grubbing hoes
ENP cy ae cables EM EC.’ $. 64

Deen Owes Melee | . 528. ~ ie bh eh $. 10
Di: gahl(u)ghwade: gi says that he owes me__-_--_- $. 25
I owe Disyaiil(u)ghwadetgqu 22. 2. 2 2. _. Peecwelz $. 10
Lowe LOA Vw sine... $. 25
And |, Jio-t7,, lent him. money... — 2 o. 25
ipso es Wier ec 2522 te ee ee ke $. 10
Tsdé:nilo: si owes me seventy-five cents in all____ $. 75
Wass Soa ise owesame __ tte et le = $. 30
Davo eC Tanne ele 2. | MEM ee $1. 00
GO 6gwdle aC Owed. 25...) Oe $1. 10

(SECOND PAGE)
1860
July 16th-August 15th.
Tsuna: sdala paid one half-dollar_____-_------ $0. 50

Tsuna:sdala owes. Wa:huhu became surety
for the debt. I approved it___...._-__------ $1. 26

= CHRONICLES OF WOLFTOWN—KILPATRICK 97

Tsutso:ladha owes. U:dhluna:da became surety
forthe debt. Tapproved it. _..2-.2.-...--2 $0. 10
Da: sgigidi:ht owes. Do-:itsu:lé?hnv became sur-
ety for the debt. I approved it____--------- $2. 26
A:tsi owes. Ts(z)sgili became surety for the
dent: approved itis Sow 8 __ Owe bli i: $0. 60
[Two lines crossed out]__----_~- he paid in full.
Wa: sida?na paid all of it, a total of $1.02,
August 15, 1861.

Duna Owed. 22. awit? 2 MLL $0. 75
Still remaining to be paid... 200A __.-_.. $0. 65
Tsé:n(i)la:ist owed. Da:dhlvuda became surety
for the debt. _ lh approvedit.22 .... 2.42: $0. 20
Pie parcial: 2p has 923 me OS NE” de 2 $0. 20
Tsd:nilo:st owed. U:wa?nv became surety for
the debt.
GE EOV GU 1 ties. Ge Se ho ks ot lal $3. 85
There still remains for Tsdé:nilo:si to pay___-_ $3.00

Tsuna: sdala 1 20 53 20

(AT BOTTOM OF PAGE)

They are to pay duty 16, 186———2_-___._+-_. =. $5. 42
$4. 80
$10. 22

COMMENTARY

The mention of the fact that the hoes had yet to be brought to
the scene of the sale implies that the auction was not held at the
home of the deceased, but perhaps at some central location. Amid
such earthy items as buckskin clothes, a pot and a pig, the violin
stands out startlingly; but up until approximately a quarter of a
century ago the Oklahoma Cherokee, at least, cultivated square-
dance fiddling assiduously, and we kuow that the art had been among
them for generations.

Mooney labels this document: “Accounts & sale of Property of
Gutagiski” and, in another place, “Property Distributn.”

NO. 35.—TSA:N()LA:TSI OFFERS TO WORK FOR SOME CORN

hi?a?sgini agwo:hwé:lo:di niga:hl(i)sda

this, in particular to write, 1 it just became

ino: li ts(a)dhv:go:di hi?a? se:lu degv : dhayo:si
Ino: li to hear, you this corn I asked you for them
1 ade:iv tsu: gV: wahl(o)di hi?a?

money worth this

98 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Bury. 196

nitsiwi digilv : hw (i)sda:n(e)dhigwé [7°]

I just said to work, I, just

[iJnigé: tsadvnv:isdi [77] dighan4:sde:ts¥: v: gw6 [78]

still to be ready, you to pull stumps (cond.), one

yi: tsadv: nVisdi iyagwadV:n(e)dhigw6

if to be ready, you to do it (cond.), I, just

digilV¥ :hw(i)sda:n(e)dhigwé alé:nohna [7°] yi: tsadv:nvVisdi [*]

to work, I, just and if to be ready, you

na:gwo yigi na:sgi iyt:sdi v:dhl4hyehno
now if it is that reason not, for
aghw(a)dhv:gd4:nv_ yigi ts4:n(i)la: tsi ayv ré
T heard ifitis Ts4:n(i)la:tsi I 7
i:ga ga?lohni 1860

day August 1860

FREE TRANSLATION
It became necessary for me to write, Jno:li, for you to read.
I asked you for a dollar’s worth of corn. This is what I said: “I am
willing to work if you areready. If you are still ready to pull stumps,
I will do it, and if you are ready now, J am willing to work.”? Because
I haven’t heard from you is the reason I am writing.
I, Tsé:n(i)la:tst, August 7, 1860.

COMMENTARY

Although in the Cherokee the tone of this note is somewhat stilted,
there is nothing in the text to Jend any weight to a supposition that
the corn in question is the communal property of a clan or the town-
ship. The petitioner proposes a simple arrangement of help in clearing
land in exchange for a quantity of corn.

“John Large wants Corn and will pay in work” is Mooney’s precise
identification.

NO. 36.—ROSTER OF COLONY AT SANDTOWN

a:hani no:yu:hi nan{:hv u:nalig6é6:hi

here sand-place in number, they joiners together, they
ane:hv go: hwe:16:di niga:hl(i)sda duni:n(o)dhi 29ne i:ga
living, they to write, one it just became October 29th day
yo:nvganvhi:d(v) a:hl(i)tsid6:hv:sgi [84] tsi: lawi:se
Yo:nvganvhbi: d(v) one who preaches Tsi:lawi:se
tsu:da:so? di gwi:ni
Tsu: da:so?di Gwi:ni

76 ‘Work’ is conceived of as being comprised of multiple motions, hence the plurality of this verb-form.

1 The prefix inige: has the force of ‘still’ or ‘yet.’

78 As written here, this word is either somewhat garbled or representative of a form that is obsolete. One
would expect it to be today dighana : sdé: ht(i)digwé.

79 More formal for ale.

8 The first syllable is erroneously written ni, the last, dz.

81 The fifth syllable is erroneously written 2.

ABEE BORE Pap.

CHRONICLES OF WOLFTOWN—KILPATRICK 99

No. 75]

gv:dé: gi tsadha: gani:da
Gv:dé:gi Tsadha:gani:da
tsa:ni tse: yvyo:si
Tsa:ni Tse: yvyo:si
de: wi ganv: dase: gi
De: wi Ganv: dase: gi
e:li me: li
E:li Meili
ne:n(i)si le: hawi
Ne:n(i) si Le:hawi
tse: gh(i)sini dinale: hwisda
Tse:gh(i)sini Dinale:hwisda
e:n(i)di ne: li:si
E:n(i)di Ne: li: si
e:sigi gvyu:tse
E:sigi Gvyu: tse
da:ni

Da: ni

duni:n(o)dhi 28ne i:ga 1860
October 28th day 1860

FREE TRANSLATION

It just became necessary to write down the names of those that
live in the group at Sandtown. October 29th.

Yo:nvganvhi:d(v), the preacher
Tsu:da:so?di

Tsi:lawi: se
Gui:

Go: dé:gi Tsadha:gani:da
Tsa:m Tse: yoyo: st
De:ur Gano: dase: gr
E:h Me:
Ne:n(i) st Le:hawi

Tse: gh(a)sina Dinale:hwisda
E:n(i)dt Ne: li: sa

Ei: sigt Gvyu: tse

Da:m

October 28, 1860

COMMENTARY

Documents in The Inoli Letters, outside the range of this study,

show that the main body of the Eastern Cherokee at Qualla Boundary
was in sustained contact with smaller groups of their tribesmen who
settled in Graham and Macon Counties after having avoided removal
to the West. We know from other sources that they kept in touch
with other kin in Cherokee County as well.

We do not learn why Jno:li prepared this census of the colony
at Sandtown. We do know that at a later date considerable but

100 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLn. 196

seemingly rather futile pressure was exerted by the Qualla people
upon these enclaves to the south to persuade them to move to Qualla.
Perhaps this roster was designed for some such purpose.

The Terrell Roll (1860, MS., p. 1), which informs us that the
Sandtown group was living on Cautoogajayah Creek in Macon
County upon the property of William Siler, lists only 14 names,
including those of two individuals who had died. Largely because
of the farfetched spelling on this roll, collation of any of the names
with those on Jno:l2’s list is fraught with uncertainty. However,
“Yonna-cunna-heet,” aged 35, is Yo:nvganvhi:d(v); ‘“Aley,” his
wife, aged 30, is H:li; ““Nancy,” aged 17, is Ne:n(i)si; and “Don,”
a woman aged 50, is Da:nt.

“List of Residents of Naythi or Sandtown, Macon Co.”’ is Mooney’s
identification of the document.

NO. 37.—WA:HUHU IS GRANTED A LOAN FROM THE ESTATE OF
ONE DECEASED

hi?a? wa:huhu tsiyadho:1(a)sda ade:lv 200
this Wa:huhu I just lent him money $2.00
tsiu: yo: hu:sv u:tse:li ade:lv tsa: gh(i)sgwa:nigo: di
which the dead one his money which to keep it, I
ayv digo: we: li:sgi agi?nv [*] agwada:n(v)dhe?dhi [5]
I clerk, I I have it (flex.) to think, I
ge:li? gada:dhol(a)sdi:sgo? sé: ga [84] gho:hi
I believe to make loans, [ (hab.) daily [?] now
i:ga vsgbi:yi gha?lv 25ne i:ga go: wé:la:ga
day December month 25th day I just wrote
ayv ino: li 1860

Ino:li 1860

(IN BOTTOM LEFTHAND CORNER)

a:ghuyv a: ?ghali:?
he just paid it in full

FREE TRANSLATION

I just lent Wa:huhwu $2.00 of the money that I am keeping of one
deceased. I, the clerk, have written authority to use my own judg-
ment, I believe, to make such loans [daily ?].

I, Inoch.
He just paid in full.
82 The inference is that the clerk has written authority.

83 Or, ‘to use My own judgment.’
84 Perhaps si:ga was intended: ‘every day’ or ‘all day.’

cies ae CHRONICLES OF WOLFTOWN—KILPATRICK 101

COMMENTARY

Ino: li’s self-conscious statement as to his authority to make loans
from the estates of persons deceased suggests that the practice
was somewhat uncommon. What he may be trying to say is: “I
believe that I have the authority to make a loan such as this every
day, if I wished.” One can but speculate upon what became of the
interest from a loan of this type. Part of it may have gone to the
council for its supervision over the money, and part of it to the
estate in return for the use of the money.

Mooney’s caption is difficult to decipher: ‘“Wahuhu loans 2” (?)
ff [from] property of deceast [sic], [?] Wolftown Council WW.”

NO. 38.—THE CLERK PAYS THE JUDGE

hi?a? o:sdv nigv:ga digu: gh(o)di:sgi
this good then I just made it judge
aghuyV:e:lv [*] wa:huhu hi?a? hi:ga:?
was just paid to him, it Wa:huhu this this amount
aghuyV:e:lv niga: hl(i)sda $2 hi?a?
was just paid to him, it it just became $2.00 this
tso?gi:nt: d(v) di a:tsi:dhu: ga tsiu: yo: hu:sv
three-fourths he owed it which the dead one
u:tse:li:ga a: ghuy(v)di niga: hl(i)sda 75
his (hers) to pay it, he it just became $0.75
ayv ino:li aghihné: tsi o:sdv iyadv :n(e)di [°*]
Ti Tno:li I just said good must to make it, one
wa:huhu

Wa:huhu

FREE TRANSLATION

I have just made this right: judge Wa-:huhw has been paid this
amount, $2.00. He owed $0.75 to the estate of the dead person. It
became necessary for him to pay the $0.75. I, Ino:l, just said that
one is to do right toward Wa-:huhu.

COMMENTARY

Clerk Jno:li does not specify how long a period of the judge’s
service this recompense represents. We see that a sum was deducted
from the emolument for the purpose of repaying a loan from the
estate of a deceased individual, but it is not clear whether the deduc-
tion came from the stipend as stated or from a gross pay that included
the deduction. Although the document is not dated, we hypothesize
that it was written in 1861.

“Payt [Payment] to Wahuhi—WW” is Mooney’s comment.

85 In this word and in the same word following, Jno:li spells the penultimate syllable he. In Cherokee
manuscripts one rather frequently finds v+vowel spelled v-+syllable beginning with h. This appears to be
an attempt to represent the strong nasalization of the » (see Chafe and Kilpatrick, 1962, pp. 62-63).

8 The third syllable is erroneously written gwo.

102 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLn. 196

NO. 39.—RECORD OF DROWNING OF TSA:LI GA:HWI;LI

gha? hi?a?sgini agwo:hwé:lo:di niga :hl(i)sda
now this, in particular to write, I it just became
ga:y6é:hli niga: hl(i)sda [87] a:hni ani: wo:di ga:di:hv
a little it just became here paint, they town
a:nets(v) df:sgi a:yo:hu:hi ama: yi [88] a:gv:gi

the one who interprets he just died water-place he just fell into (liquid)
ga: bwi:li tsige:sv: gi [5°] unolv : dhanf gha?lv
Ga:hwi:li who it was January month
18ne i:ga sv:no:yi hi?a? ude: dhiyV:sadi:sv¥ 1861
18th day night this year 1861
go: wé:la:g4 gha: ga?li igv:yi i:ga hi?a?hno: a:hni
I just wrote February first day this, and here
i?tse did4:ne:lv u:hl(i)tsido?di: yi sa:gwo
new house to preach, he-place one
na:hl(i)tsido: hv: ga dhali:ne hv: tsa [9] yu:lu?tsé
then he just preached second not not he came (w.p.k.)
tso?{:ne u:hl(i)tsido?dif: yi tso?iyu:sv: é:sgha
third to preach, he-place three days less
na:gwo gahlv:na ama:yi u:wa:sgalV:hv:ga
now he just went to sleep water-place it has just hidden him
i:nv:hiyu a:se tso?asgo iyulé:dv [%] 37 [9]
far away perhaps thirty miles 37

FREE TRANSLATION

Now! It became necessary for me to write a little. The Paint-
town interpreter died here. He fell into the water, the late Ga:hwi:l,
the night of January 18, 1861.

I just wrote this on February 1st. Here at the new church he
preached only once. The second time he did not come. The third
time, 3 days or less before he was to come to the church, he fell asleep
in the water. It has hidden him far off, perhaps 30 miles away.

COMMENTARY

The new church must have been on the same site as the old, on
Soco Creek. One gathers that Tsa:li Ga:hwi:li—“No. 44 Charley
Cow-whee-la aged 24-1/2” on the Terrell Roll (1860, MS., p. 2)—
preached in the new building but once, failed for some reason to keep
his second appointment (2 months later ?), and was drowned a few
days prior to the third.

87 The manuscript has a superfluous final ni.

58 A stream, creek, or river, is usually implied.

8 This word, and also fsige-ao, is used in reference to one deceased; ‘the late.’

® Variant of 9 :tsa, ¢ :dhla.

% This word in the printed literature is iyw:dhlilé:da. The spelling here is probably garbled, but one
cannot be certain as to how it was pronounced in Jno-li’s era and locale.

92 The significance of this numeral is not evident.

a+ = CHRONICLES OF WOLFTOWN—KILPATRICK 103

Charley Hornbuckle is described on the Terrell Roll as a brother
of Johnson Hornbuckle, a halfbreed who was also a preacher. The
exact clerical status of Charley is uncertain; he may have been an
itinerant preacher, and therefore of a higher status than Jno:l.

The handwriting here is that of Zno:lt. Mooney’s unimpeachable
identification reads: ‘‘Drowning of Charley Hornbuckle.”

No. 40.—DA:SGIGIDI:HI COMPLAINS OF THE MISCONDUCT OF
TSE:SI AND TSA:NI

(ON RECTO)

gha? hi?a?sgini na:gwo go: wé:la:g4 gha:ga?li
now this, in particular now I just wrote it February
gha?lv 22 si:ne i:ga na:sgi iyu:sdi a:hni ghwalv: yi
month 22d day that reason here Qualla-place
du:do:v digo: we: lf{:sgi a:gwo:hlv u:nild?tsv: gf
named, it clerk, I I was sitting they did come
na:sgi tsa:ni [°3} tse:si [%4] hi?a? naniwe:sgv: gi dhalé:hi [°5]
that Tsa:ni Tse:sl this they were saying white oak-place
iyV:dv dagilV¥ : hw(i)sda:ne:lv: gi tse: si
out there I did work Tse:si
u:tse:li: g6:hi nv?ghi tsudé: dagwadv dagilv : hw(i)sda:ne:lv: gf
his property four days I did work
a:di:ha tsa:ni na:sgihno: tse: si a: gwaghuyV:e?df [°*]
he says Tsa:ni that, and Tse:si to pay me, he
gv: ginugo?dhanv: gi [°7] sa: gwo ade: lv u: ghuy (v) di
they did evict me one money to pay, he
u:dv:hnv:gi ahhnuwo: gigwo aginv :n(e) di
he did state clothes, just to give me (flex.), he
u:dv:hnv:gi na:sgihno: ¥:dhla sgwa:ghu:[yV]e:?ha [°]
he did state that, and not you pay me
hi?a?gwo nigawe’a u:lu?tse ugv: wiyu:hi
this, just he says he came (w.p.k.) chief, he
du:ghiz, .,. [7] P?] a:di:sgv: gi higi na:sgihye:hno
to pay with them, he [?) he was saying this it is that, for
du: ghuy(v) di gv:ginugo?dhanv:gi [!}] a:gigwo
to pay with them, he they did evict me he just received it (hard), just
tse: si gha?lv:i 80: gwil(i) tsi:sgigh4:ne:lv: gi
T'se:si month horse which you did give me (alive)
30 tsu:gV¥:wa:hl(o)di si:ghwa de: dhagigh4:ne:lv: gi
$30.00 in value pig they gave me (alive)
so?ne:la [?] tsu:gvV:wa:hl(o)di ge:sv:gi na:sgihno: sa:gwo
nine in value it was that, and one

98 ‘John.’

% ‘Jesse.’

% We cannot identify this place name, the ‘‘Tellowe”’ of the Whites.
96 The fifth syllable is erroneously written ye.

% The first syllable is erroneously written gu.

68 The penultimate syllable is erroneously written ye.

% Part of this word is illegible.

1 The first syllable is erroneously written gu.

2 The written attempts to provide the glottal stop by yi;

104 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLy. 196

ade:lv ubliné: hiyv: gi na: sgihno: tsa: ni u: tse: li: ga
money it was left over that, and Tsa:ni his
gu:tsu:se?[s]Jdhanv: gi [3] a:di:ha tse:si na:sgihno:
he did count it he says Tse:si that, and
tsint:sdi tsin(i) gi: hv tse:si na:sgi nusdé:sdi
which way which in all Tse:si that the way it will be
de: tstigh(o)de:sdi na:sgigwo nu:lagwo
you (pl.) will decide that, just hurry, you (imp.), just
dhaghtyv:hvh4é u:la?tse ale na:sgwo ase: gwo
over there pay, you (imp.) he came (w.p.k.) and also in vain
hi?gesé: sdi a:sé:hi gohwe:li u:lu?hi:sdi hi?gesé: sdi
this it will be but letter to come, it this it will be
a:hni iyV:dv ghwalv:yi du:dov:i hi?a? ade:lv
here this far Qualla-place named, it this money
a?dhayo?hihi gohwe:li a:sege: li? tsada:nely: gwo [*]
asker for it letter I believe your house, just
u:ld?tse sa: gwo ade?lv i?gd:i a:yvhyehno:
it came (w.p.k.) one money in amount I, for
gv: ginugo?dhanv: gi [5] tsa: ghuy (v) di ayv tse:si ayv
they did evict me to pay, you I Tse:si I
tsa: ni agigo:hw(a)dhv: dhi ade:lv na:sgi Veet
Tsa:ni to see it, I money that in amount
go:wé:lv:g4 ayv da:sgigidi:hi [*] ghwalv:yi
I just wrote it 1 Da:sgigidi:hi Qualla-place
digo: we: li:sgi go:wé:la:ga 1861 ude: dhiyV :sadisv:i
clerk, I I just wrote it 1861 year
iyV¥:dv gha: ga?li 22
further on February 22

(ON VERSO)
gwe:dh(i)si tsago:lf:ye:di hi?a? gohwe:li
Gwe:dh(i)si to read it, you this letter

FREE TRANSLATION
(ON RECTO)

Now! I just wrote this on the 22d of February. The reason is
that Tsa:ni and Tse:si came to me at Qualla, where I am the clerk.
This is what they were saying: that I worked on Tse:s1’s property
out there at White Oak Place for 4 days. Tsa:ni says that Tse:s2
should pay me $1.00 because he evicted me, he stated.

He stated that he would just give me some clothes. That is not
paying me. When the chief came, he said, ‘He has to pay.” He said
that he has to pay for evicting me.

This month Tse:si got the horse that you gave me, worth $30.00,
and the pig that they gave me, worth $9.00. There was $1.00 left

8 We cannot account for the gu; one would expect wu.
‘The fourth syllable is erroneously written Za.

§ The first syllable is erroneously written de.

6 ‘Tasgigi-killer.’

ie aaa CHRONICLES OF WOLFTOWN—KILPATRICK 105

over. Tse:si says that Tsa:ni counted his money, and that this is the
way it totals.

“Tse:si, if this is the way you all are going to decide, hurry up and
pay me.”

He came—and also the letter to come out here from Qualla will
be in vain. I believe that the letter of request came to your house.

“T am the one that they evicted. You must pay me, 7J’se:si and
Tsa:nm. I must see that amount of money.”

I, Da:sgigidi:hi, the clerk at Qualla, just wrote this. I just wrote
it February 22, 1861.

(ON VERSO)

This letter, Gwe:dh(i)si, is for you to read.

COMMENTARY

Although Da:sgigidi:hi states that he is the clerk “at Qualla”
(Yellow Hill Township), his letter deals with a private matter—a
family squabble, one suspects. He does not indicate where he was
when he wrote to Jno:li’s mother Gwe:dh(i)s?.

We ascertain from another document in The Inoli Letters that
Da:sgigdi:hi died on the June 23d following his penning of this heated
and muddled missive. He succumbed to disease while on duty with
the Confederate forces at Strawberry Plains, Tenn.

The Inoli Letters attest to the Cherokee belief that the lands upon
which they lived were actually theirs, and that the title of Will Thomas
to them was merely an expedient necessitated by North Carolina law.
The basic concepts of land occupancy held by the Eastern Band of
the present day seem to have been accepted in Jno:li’s time: no in-
dividual ownership in fee simple, but only possessory rights derived
from a legislative body; no right of sale, but the right of lease or trade
(see Gulick, 1960, p. 9).

Mooney’s caption is decidely at variance with the contents of the
document: “Taskigitihi to Inali—wants some money left on deposit.”

NO. 41.—RESIGNATION OF JUDGE WA:HUHU AND PAYMENT TO
OTHER OFFICIALS

1861 ["]

1861
wa:huhu a:sgwada digu: gh(o)di:sgi na:gwa:se [8]
Wa:hubhu he just finished judge now, I suppose
a:sgwada ga?lohni gha?lv 5ne i:ga
he just finished August month 6th day
digu: gh(o)di:sgi aghuyYv:e?di niga: hl(i)sda ayv
judge to pay him, one it just became I

“The 1860 written in the manuscript we assume to be an error
8 Na:gwo + a:se.

106 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Bun. 196

ino:li gv: ghine:tshi ga:ghuyV:sadi
Ino:li they just gave me permission to pay them, I
ts4:n(i)la: tsi ts(i)sgilié: gwa ga:ghuyv dha?li
Ts&:n(i)la:tsi Ts(i)sgilié:gwa I paid it two
ade:lv de: tsihv: ga du: yu: gh(o)dv
money I put them (hard) down right

nigd:dv ga:sginé:tshe:lv 1861
all you (pl.) gave me permission 1861

FREE TRANSLATION

1861

Wa:huhu, I assume, has now resigned as judge. He resigned as
judge the 5th day of August. It has become necessary for him to be
paid. They gave me, Jno-li, permission to pay Tsd:n(i)la:tst and
Ts(1)sgilié:gwa. I paid them. I expended $2.00, doing the right
thing, as all of you gave permission to do.

1861
COMMENTARY

As seen elsewhere, 7's(t)sgilié: gwa was Chief of Wolftown, but we
do not learn what official position T'sdé:n(2)la:tsi held. The ‘‘they”
and “all of you’ that gave Jno:li his authority were members of the
Wolftown Council.

The s(i)sgilié:gwa was very likely the individual mentioned by
Mooney (1900, p. 179): “‘. . . among those who died at this time
[1896] being Big-witch (Tskil-égwa), the oldest man of the band, who
distinctly remembered the Creek war... .’ On p. 538 (ibid.)
Mooney elaborates upon the derivation of this personal name:
“Although translated Big-witch by the whites, the name is under-
stood by the Indians to mean Big-owl . . ., having been originally
applied to a white man living on the same clearing, noted for his
large staring eyes.”

Mooney and Olbrechts (1932, p. 29) state: ‘The meaning of tsrkuli
is literally ‘hooting owl,’ but since this night bird is considered as a
bird of ill omen, and because of the mysterious occult power ascribed
to it, moreover because it indulges in its activities only during the
night as the witches do, the word has been extended to mean ‘witch.’ ”’

A sacred formula utilizing a term combining both connotations is
found in Kilpatrick (1962 a, p. 5).

The Mooney caption for this document is: ‘‘Waéhuhu resigns as
Judge—Inali Sec [Secretary] or Clerk Wolftown WW.”

ANTHROP. PAP.
No. 75],

CHRONICLES OF WOLFTOWN—KILPATRICK

107

NO. 42.—ROSTER OF SINGING CLASS AT ECHOTA METHODIST
MISSION

(AT TOP OF DOCUMENT)

hi?a? gho:hi ude: dhiyV:sadi:sv [°] 1862
this now year 1862
duli:sdi [!°] gha?lv 21 gho:hi i?tse
September month 21 now new
u:nale:n(v)di nvga:hl(i)sda di:nihnogi:sgi
to begin, they then it just became those who sing them
tsa:ts(i) [!1] di:dehy6:vhv:sgi [!?] ale

Tsa:ts(i) the one who teaches them and

tsu:ni: go:[li:]ye:di higi gho:hi dha?li
how to read them, they this it is now two
tsuniyé :1(v)n(v) di hi?dighahnogi:sdi tsalagi
how to divide them, they this, to sing, them, they Tsalagi

e:ligi:sadv + [!]

lusi:n(i)di -+

E:ligi:sadv + Lusi:n(i)di ++
li:yedi + e:tsini +
Li:yedi + E:tsini +
wo:lada a:li:si:ni +
Wo:lada A:li:si:ni +
dagv:ya gelayi:ni
Dagv:ya Gelayi:ni
gv:sgali:sgi + ne: tsini
QGv:sgali:sgi -+ Ne: tsini
midi +
Midi +
e:nili
E:nili

tsi:n(i)si +
Tsi:n(i)si +
ne: tsili +
Ne:tsili +
gado:yoe? +
Gado:yoe? +
lo:si +
Lo:si +
tsinilv: gi
Tsinilv:gi
seyo: lini
Seyo:lini

(AT BOTTOM OF DOCUMENT, UPSIDE DOWN)

ude: dhiy¥ :sadhi:sv 1863
year 1863

19ne
19th

gha?ly

month

guwo:ni
April

§ The fourth syllable is erroneously written so.

10 There is a superfluous i between the second and third syllables.

il ‘George,’ not otherwise identified.

12 The fourth syllable (v) would appear to be superfluous; but it may have been pronounced by Jno-:li;
therefore, it is retained.

13 The cross here, and elsewhere, may be an attendance tally mark pertaining to a subsequent meeting
of the class.

108 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY
i:ga di: nihnogi:sgi u:nale:n(v)di ano:hwe:li:sgv
day those who sing them to begin, they writing it, they
e:ligi:sadi [14] me:li
E:ligi:sadi Me:li
li: yedi gelayi:ni
Li:yedi Gelayi:ni
e: tsini
E:tsini
lusi:n (i) di

Lusi:n(i)di

tsi:n(i)si
Tsi:n(i)si

lo:si
Lo:si

a:li:si:ni
A:li:si:ni

tsinilv: gi
Tsinilv:gi

FREE TRANSLATION

(AT TOP OF DOCUMENT)

[Buu 196

Now! This September 21, 1862, it became time for the singers
and their teacher. Tsa:ts(i), to begin anew, to divide, and to read,
and to sing Cherokee songs.

E:ligi: sadv
Ti:yedr
Wo:lada
Dagv: ya
Gv: sgali: sgt

Lust :n(a)di
E:isina
ARbEStEny
Gelayr:nr
Ne: tsini
Midi
E:nih
Tsi:n (2) st
Ne: tsili
Gado: yoe?
Lo:st
Tsinilv: gr
Seyo:lini

(AT BOTTOM OF DOCUMENT, UPSIDE DOWN)

On April 19, 1863 it became time for the undersigned singers to

begin writing.
E:ligi:sadi

Meh

14 An alternate spelling (di vice dv) that may be indicative of an alternate pronunciation.

ic a aol CHRONICLES OF WOLFTOWN—KILPATRICK 109

Ta:yedr Gelayi:ni
E:tsina
Lusi :n(i)dr
Tsi:n(i)st
Lo: st
A:la:si:ni
Tsinilv: gi

COMMENTARY

The “Cherokee Hymn Book’ in Sequoyah syllabary was largely
the work of the young Cherokee scholar Elias Boudinot (1802-39)
and the missionary Samuel A. Worcester (1798-1859). It is still in
use, in both North Carolina and Oklahoma, having gone through
many editions and having been expanded from 33 hymns, as first
issued at New Echota, Ga., in 1829, to 135 hymns plus some
doxologies and temperance songs.

The Cherokee, surely one of the most musically gifted of all tribes,
possess a unique if moribund Christian hymnology that stands deeply
in need of scholarly investigation. Most of the texts and tunes are
seemingly of White origin, but many of them do not appear to have
survived anywhere else than in the Cherokee churches. All indica-
tions point to the adoption by the Cherokees, early in their contact
with Christianity, of the practice of singing in four-part harmony.

The singing class reported in this document may have used the
ninth edition of the “Cherokee Hymn Book,” issued at the Mission
Press at Park Hill in 1854 (Hargrett, 1951, pp. 58-59). This edition
contained some additional translations by the Cherokee preacher
Stephen Foreman (1807-81). The division into “two groups” may
be in reference to the customary seating arrangement in Cherokee
churches, the males on the right-hand side of the pulpit, the females
on the left-hand side, or it may refer to singing in parts. The passage
is obscure.

In the column on the document’s left is a list of masculine names,
in that on the right a list of feminine names. Probably most, if not
all, of those listed are young folk. There may be some significance
in the fact that in the second entry, dating some 7 months later than
the first, more than half of the males had dropped out. One wonders
if the Confederate forces were the gainer and a lack of males the
reason for a corresponding dip in attendance on the left-hand side of
Kchota Methodist Mission.

The Mooney notation “Names of singing class’ and the query
“Army List ?’”’ need no comment.

747-014-668

110 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 196

REFERENCES CITED

Cuars, WALLACE L., and Kiupatrick, Jack F.

1962. Inconsistencies in Cherokee spelling. Jn Symposium on language

and culture. Proceed. Amer. Ethnol. Soc. Ann. Meet, for 1962.
CHEROKEE NATION. [TSALAGI AYE: HLI.]

1875. Constitution and laws of the Cherokee Nation. Published by author-
ity of the National council. [Ga:ghu:sdv:di go:dhlvhisahnv:
hihno:ale na:sgwo dighanahwady:sdi na:sgi Tsalagi Aye:hli
de:u:hv:i. Lu:yi Ga:du:hv:i.] St. Louis.

CHEROKEB Nation PaPErs.
. Roll of members of the Gidu: hwa Society meeting at Honey Springs,

A:m6:hi District, Sept. 5, 1874. MS., Library, Univ. Oklahoma.

CorkRANn, Davip H.
1962. The Cherokee frontier. Univ. Oklahoma Press.
Cox, C. M.

. Bill of sale to Henry Watts [Watt], Goingsnake, I. T., April 7, 1893.
MS., Kilpatrick Coll.
FocEtson, RayMonp D., and KutscHe, PAuvt.
1961. Cherokee economic cooperatives: the Gadugi. In Symposium on
Cherokee and Iroquois culture, ed. by William N. Fenton and
John Gulick. Bur. Amer. Ethnol. Bull. 180, No. 11, pp. 83-124.
GADIGWANASTI.
. Original formulae in Cherokee syllabary from the Gadigwanasti
(Belt) manuscript. Bur. Amer. Ethnol. MS. No. 2590-a.
GILBERT, WituiaM H.
1943. The Eastern Cherokees. Bur. Amer. Ethnol. Bull. 133, Anthrop. Pap.
No. 23.
Guuicx, John.
1960. Cherokees at the crossroads. Inst. Res. Soc. Sci. Mono. Chapel
Hill, N. C.
HARGRETT, LESTER.
1951. Oklahoma imprints, 1835-1890. New York.
INO: 11.

. Sacred formulae. Bur. Amer. Ethnol. MS. No. 2236.
KILPATRICK, JACK F.
1962 a. The Siquanid Dil’tidegi collection. South. Methodist Univ., Dailas.
1962 b. An etymological note on the tribal name of the Cherokees and certain
place and proper names derived from Cherokee. Journ. Grad.
Res. Cen., vol. 30, No. 1. South. Methodist Univ., Dallas.
McCaut, Wiuiiam A.
1952. Cherokees and pioneers. Asheville, N.C.
Moonsey, JAMES.
. 259 Cherokee text (sacred ?) formulas. Bur. Amer. Ethnol. MS. No.
1888.
1891. The sacred formulas of the Cherokees. 7th Ann. Rep. Bur. Amer.
Ethnol. for 1885-1886, pp. 301-397.
1900. Myths of the Cherokee. 19th Ann. Rep. Bur. Amer. Ethnol. for
1897-1898, pt. 1, pp. 3-576.
Mooney, JAmgs, and OLBREcHTS, Frans M.
1932. The Swimmer manuscript. Bur. Amer. Ethnol. Bull. 99.
PILiine, JAMES C,
1888. Bibliography of the Iroquoian languages. Bur. Amer. Ethnol. Bull. 6.

i} CHRONICLES OF WOLFTOWN—KILPATRICK dil a

RussELL, Mattiz.
. William Holland Thomas, White chief of the North Carolina
Cherokees. MS., Ph. D. dissertation, 1956, Duke Univ.
Speck, Frank G., and ScHAEFFER, CLAUDE EH.
1945. The mutual-aid volunteer company of the Eastern Cherokee. Journ.
Washington Acad. Sci., vol. 35, pp. 169-179.
Srarr, FREDERICK.
1898. American Indian: Ethnogeographic reader. Vol. 2. Boston.
TERRELL, JAMES W.
. Census roll of the North Carolina (East) Cherokees. 1860. Bur.
Amer. Ethnol. MS. No. 1926.
1892. The demon of consumption. Journ. Amer. Folklore, April-June,
pp. 125-126.
WoRCESTER, SAMUEL A., and FoREMAN, STEPHEN, TRANS.
1849. I:sa:ya udo:leho:svhni. Park Hill Mission Press. [Selections from
the Book of Isaiah.]
1856. Mo:si igv:y:yi uwo:hwe:la:n¥:hi. Park Hill Mission Press. [The
Book of Genesis.]
WorcEsTER, SAMUEL A., and Boupinot, ELias, TRANS.
1850. O:sdv ghanohe:d(v) Ma:du uwo:hwe:la:n¥:hi. 5thed. Park Hill
Mission Press. [The Gospel According to St. Matthew.]

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ernie Wars Pada: 41.04 2M ead cond
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SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION
Bureau of American Ethnology
Bulletin 196

Anthropological Papers, No. 76
THE GIFT OF CHANGING WOMAN
By KEITH H. BASSO

113

we ARh
AL oA ; tart Th.
Pet) ye
a) , 6 ‘
4
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|

at ot angel laoigologontinA - |
VAMOW JALOMAHD IO Tio SHT
OAT .H HTIGA yf

CONTENTS

PAGE

Peetaeer sh. Assy Shee y SPEIRS ELE OS OEE Se ee PS See eee ae 117
PMEnOM UCM ONe. 6 pews So yn eee ey ek Se. Soe ae 119
PITRE WI SECE SMEG cares ISIN tee ye 2 RS a we See en We ee 119

OT] SELL EYE Sage aR ETT Mle neg Sy a fe ear een NTE Chie VAG 121
Pictdmmeenoas An Gauhe fae le. on coe ee Sa ee ae TZ
eipacne worddas Ctite ieee Ol. SUC, OONLICE ALU ADAReS ef 124
Prclmmnaricss 67 A7he hhh 8 oro. OF fie Viostoen Amiche. .. fs) Paet 124
Ndeh Guhyaneh______- pas. ses 3 ppshed chek: gitar Deas. on pe olin 127
election oh avmedicing man. 8 ip og he es ea 128
BIDE ICU OL UN CIEE ESTE 2h 2 tifa fa) Se Bae Ree ase Sota ge 130

(oT E iad Sane Seperate ip et. lpg hs Byes Ae misty ek fe 132

UN GRE IRIE = oe ene = SILT COOL: SELON, SOTO EE CRE 133
ECDAREMOHiGE ets! 38 aves Brel Liyey reMjeenys? socpeky 6 _ 1 type eh 133
SRe danecner Gun’ a) 28 Fe bote oet e B e ee ee 135
VENDOR ASI ede te ae eae ee ee ee ee Ses ee Sy See 138
HMO IG AG DELOLC IN th C8 ni RS on a re ae ee a Ree 141
Geen Wi GICs tn ee ee wae tepbpned ej 141
‘he trieualy paraphernalia. 0) SOW Se 70s Ae + 143

INST Sharan care is Setar: ssh ne, te Se relly eek be eee re) Exp AL 146

Bt ennthi2e: ath ee th oP eat ee) ee lee te NS oe jee ed 147

JEON NET ES SE SE ae Cee ee ee CON ener MEE, Aer mere a neo Tf 149

IT: CEE pS ie ER fe SO NO CLE: RINSE OO NN eS) Pe eat EEE I zy SE 150
LATTITR ENG LCG AO 0s, hp pe el Neate SO tay Me Syn 150
Preparavionses= 2.22000) Ose) pO. AL Veena 3) Oe 152
hissed 2c inte Jie SONA Reh neh. wid Cet see oer 153
Linke de Mit-Ke™.<.. Spenser. Arie ee en. Saal ee eee tebe 153
BEINGS Ste a ei Ee ee he 154

LUG TATA eae eS es, A SAREE: Le YS Sata, HT phoma Fe 156

IV. Gish th eha ha yinda sle dit thtye....---.----------.---=<-- 156

ESR RSA ae Sa Ree nD ES RIT CRIN Pe ROSE A ge a, 157

IVD iS TENE SUCCEED cn ae See ok ae he cE ag ee 158

Lgl aml 2s Fe hae 6 lec ae eal ie ea Reece tas ee ah Ae bnite “aoe 158

WEEDON G rhe Sh kes Tec ea Le ie ee ee a ee ae 159

Four “holy” daydii Jo. MUA ee ee BO SA ee 2 OW SY ee 159

NG th. ce and“lite objectives’ OCIS. Seoehieu Ys JNO pee. Aloe 2 160
Oldtage sete es Lye? iter ysis. 2) ates eae ies AN IN alesse 161
Physicalistrength4i oss. 2A be Lapa tetorl bo oe be reel pet oe 1 hee epee 163
oud disposiion. § 00 ie eo vest. Cues bes se ale IE ate 163
120s uth ee te a eC oe. : ene er owe. ¢ oe 165

iran me COTA RUMONI SC iE ate Pet eee Se ks eps i ieee es ge 167
Gimseanyagies PACKE: CenINg te. oe eee re Ses ee A 170
SETS 2 aa SA Nee ls i cance ers ay ce a Pe Cee et 172

116 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 196

ILLUSTRATIONS
TEXT FIGURES
PAGE
IPA lanurenuiOnShiDs 222200 3. ee ee ee eee eee 131
2. Clan relatives/at nae. Uanh..o*e=fernesssey 2 522 ee ee 134
Soma wh es SUCUChIPes=. 2052 os ek eee Se a eee eee 136
aR Aes TGanCe POU 2 62. Ue ois ee ae eee See ge Se eee 137
RE SOCIAT GANOIHNE 2 2) oso 25 Se. 2 ee ee 140
B. iithel DarannernAne.- 5006 eke eee eee nena Tien oe ae 144

1 Wore apache neservavlOn...---.-- so. -- eos ee ee ee ee 122

PREFACE

The first part of this paper (pp. 124-159) is a type description of the
Western Apache girl’s puberty rite or na th es as it is performed by a
eroup of Apaches living at Cibecue on the Fort Apache Indian Res-
ervation in Arizona.

Compared to the wealth of information we have concerning the
ceremonial forms and beliefs of other Southern Athapascan tribes,
very little is available on those of the Western Apache. In fact, only
two trained ethnographers have published studies on the subject.
Goodwin (1938) has presented a brief outline of the entire Western
Apache religious system, and Kaut (Goodwin and Kaut, 1954) has
analyzed a nativistic movement. Detailed descriptions of ceremonies
are completely lacking, and the present work is, I hope, a step toward
the elimination of this deficiency.

In the second portion (pp. 160-170), I examine the symbolic content
of na th es in an effort to llustrate what it means to Apaches and how
it educates the pubescent girl in the ways of adulthood. TI also discuss
some of the ways in which na 7h es functions with regard to society at
large. In this attempt at structural analysis, I make use of Kluck-
hohn’s concepts of adjustive and adaptive response.

This report might never have been written had it not been for the
interest and instruction of other people. In particular, I am deeply
indebted to the late Dr. Clyde Kluckhohn, who first encouraged me to
do fieldwork among the Western Apache. I am also grateful to Dr.
Charles R. Kaut who introduced me to many people on the Fort Apache
Reservation. In the actual writing, I profited greatly from the sug-
gestions of Dr. Evon Z. Vogt. Valuable advice on the linguistic
material was given to me by Dr. Richard Diebold, Jr. I also want to
thank Symme Bernstein for the time and effort she spent preparing
the illustrations.

For their cooperation, indulgence, and kindness I owe my greatest
debt to the people of Cibecue, especially Dick and Don Cooley,
Nashley Tessay (my interpreter), Teddy Peaches, and Nelson, Albert,
Dewey, and Rose Lupe. Also, I gratefully acknowledge the assistance
of Helena Henry, Lillian and Sam Johnson, Melvin Kane, Dudley
Patterson, George Gregg, Ernest Murphy, Roy Quay, Pedro Martinez,
and Calvert Tessay.

117

ver 7

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Spomeiotioh eitft to m
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adaag A tn’ ocd ao alqoeq qiant 3 oo hoxaboweai oul just Lee
ane odd tort yeery beittorg | gaitivw feodos adi wl cone vE
‘giteingalf edd no soivbe sldaula¥ .ig0¥ 3 govt ad to a
Gt jaaw oalal 4G .blodoiMT bradsisl 10 yd om oe) mevig ener tet
Bubeqerg tneqa ida trots bus emit odd 10k ainientoll sou
dastagtg yat awo I eee bea zocneglubai foitezaqooe tieds.9
eweloo) col baa arid ylsmeqa enoedi> Wo siqoeq ae ye
edi A .aoeleV: bag ,2odvant yhboT .(isjenqietai yt) Yr
sotateiear ods ‘cilsteterg LoelA .oqucl eeodd bs
valbuC@ cat nivel .soeadot ma® baa caiffil
‘ mia orbet ,yeoO youd, vdqus teooill aga!) sgn

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THE GIFT OF CHANGING WOMAN

By Kerra H. Basso

INTRODUCTION
THE WESTERN APACHE

The Southern Athapascans have been divided into seven major
tribes on the basis of territorial, cultural, and linguistic distinctions
which they themselves recognized (Goodwin, 1942, pp. 1-13, 1938,
pp. 5-10). These are the Jicarilla, the Lipan, the Kiowa-Apache,
the Mescalero, the Chiricahua, the Navaho, and the Western Apache.
Hoijer (1938, p. 86) categorized these tribes linguistically into an
eastern and western group. The latter includes the Navaho, Chiri-
cahua, Mescalero, and Western Apache; the former is composed of
the Jicarilla, Lipan, and Kiowa-Apache.

The definition of Goodwin (1935, p. 55), which is the most compre-
hensive yet devised, designates as Western Apache “. . . those Apache
peoples who have lived within the present boundaries of the state
of Arizona during historic times, with the exception of the Chiricahua,
Warm Springs, and allied Apache, and a small band of Apaches
known as the Apaches Mansos, who lived in the vicinity of Tucson.” !

In 1850, Western Apache country extended north to Flagstaff,
south to Tucson, east to the present city of St. Johns, and west to
the Verde River. At this time, the people were divided into five
distinct groups, each ranging over its own area of land and refusing
to encroach upon that of its neighbors.2, These were the White
Mountain Apache, Cibecue Apache, San Carlos Apache, Southern
Tonto Apache, and Northern Tonto Apache. Within each group

1 For a fuller discussion of this definition, including maps showing the distribution of Western Apache
groups and those living in Arizona who were not Western Apache, see Goodwin, 1942, pp. 1-62. In the
middle of the 19th century, the people now called Western Apache were known by a variety of names
(Coyoteros, White Mountain Apaches, etc.). Goodwin spent much time on this confusing problem
and in his Appendix I (ibid., pp. 571-572) has prepared a list of terms by which the Western Apache
groups were formerly known. To understand which groups are referred to in the early literature, this
table is indispensable.

2 In discussing the social divisions of the Western Apache, I have adopted Goodwin’s (1942) terminology.
Although slightly misleading at times (group vs. local growp, etc.) it is otherwise extremely accurate and the
product of extensive research.

119

120 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Bunn. 196

were three to five smaller bands which, in turn, were subdivided into
several local groups, these latter being the basic units upon which the
social organization and government of the Western Apache were
founded.’

Ever since 1871-73, when the United States Government began to
interfere with the original balance of Western Apache culture by
confining the people to the Fort Apache and San Carlos Reservations,
the old distinctions between groups and bands have broken down.
Similarly, the composition of local groups has been seriously altered.
The matrilineal extended family, however, still preserves much of
its old form, and the basic structure and function of the individual
household has changed very little.

Before the coming of the White man, the Western Apache prac-
ticed a hunting and gathering economy. Wild plant foods such as
mescal tubers, acorns, juniper berries, pifion nuts and yucca “‘fruit’’
were collected all year round, and big game (elk, deer, antelope, and
bear) was hunted in the late spring and fall. Agriculture (beans,
corn, and squash) was practiced sparingly. Although the modern
economy revolves almost exclusively around cattle raising, the people
still farm small plots of corn and beans, and continue to gather mescal
tubers and acorns. Hunting is now greatly curtailed by reservation-
imposed seasons.

Reservation life has brought about profound changes in religion.
A system that once included ceremonies relative to warfare, hunting,
and moving camp now centers on curing ceremonies and the girl’s
puberty rite. This is not to say that belief in the native religion has
been abandoned. ‘To the contrary, there is evidence to show that,
despite strenuous efforts by missionaries to convert Apaches to
Catholicism and other forms of Christianity, the incidence of native
ceremonies has increased over the past decade orso. This may simply
indicate that more people are getting “‘sick.”” But, more likely, it
represents a trend toward the reacceptance of old religious practices
which, for reasons not yet clearly understood, were considered in-
adequate around 1920-25 when nativistic movements swept across
the Fort Apache and San Carlos Reservations.*

Speaking generally, belief in the old religion is found most commonly
among persons of today’s grandparental generation (aged 50-75 years).
These people remember the ‘‘old days” clearly and adhere to many
of the minute ritual proscriptions once practiced by everyone. A
large portion of the parental generation (aged 25-50 years) also holds

8 Groups, bands, etc. are described in great detail by Goodwin (ibid., pp. 13-192). His discussions are
illustrated by numerous quotations from informants.

4 For additional information on the nativistic cults which have sprung up since the Western Apache came
into contact with Whites, see Goodwin, 1938, pp. 34-37, and Goodwin and Kaut, 1954.

aa GIFT OF CHANGING WOMAN—BASSO 121

to its belief in the native religion. A few individuals have joined the
church but it is significant that these “converts” attend Apache
ceremonies as regularly as prayer meetings.

Today’s young people have mixed feelings. Some scoff openly at
what they call the “stupid” religious beliefs of their elders; practically
none embrace White religion. More aware than their parents of the
benefits of White medical techniques, the young people rarely rely
on native medicine men, who heal the sick by supernatural means.

CIBECUE

The community of Cibecue is located near the center of the Fort
Apache Reservation in east-central Arizona (map 1). It is a small
settlement of nearly 700 inhabitants whose dwellings are scattered
on both sides of Cibecue Creek, a narrow stream originating in
mountains to the north. The soil is red and not particularly fertile.
Vegetation consists mostly of juniper, pifion, and ponderosa pine in
the higher areas, and cottonwood along the creeks.

Not a great deal is known about the early history of the Cibecue
Apache. Their first unwarlike relations with the Whites came in
1859, when they traveled to Camp Grant on the San Pedro River to
draw rations. In 1875, the majority were forced to move south to
San Carlos. Three years later, they returned to their homeland and,
in 1881, engaged in the historic Cibecue Massacre during which a
number of troops belonging to a regiment of the United States Sixth
Cavalry under the command of General Crook were killed while
attempting to arrest an Apache medicine man. As far as I have
been able to determine, this encounter ended hostilities with the
military.

A large number of Apaches now regard Cibecue as the most old-
fashioned settlement on the reservation. The arguments used to
support this opinion usually include one or more of the following:

1. A majority of the people at Cibecue still live in old-style grass wickiups.
Comparatively few have built cabins.

2. Cibecue has more medicine men presently active than any other community.

3. More ceremonies are held in Cibecue than anywhere else.

Cibecue’s conservatism would seem to be directly related to its
geographical isolation. The nearest White town, Show Low, Ariz.,
is nearly 50 miles away. Few Indians have reason to travel there,
and, as a result, Cibecue people rarely come into prolonged contact
with White society. Two years ago, I drove a 10-year-old boy to
Show Low; it was only the second time he had been there.

122 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLy. 196

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FORT APACHE RESERVATION

O 20 40 60 80 100
miles

Map 1.—Fort Apache Reservation.
FIELD METHODS AND DATA

When I began to live in Cibecue I was regarded as something of a
curiosity. What could possibly lure a “rich’’ White man to Cibecue,
the people wanted to know. Was he working for the Government?
Why did he come alone, without wife or relatives? Why did he ask
to be taught Apache words? And why was he so willing to give away
cigarettes? At first, the Apache’s attitude toward me was one of
moderately hostile resignation. As long as I did nothing to interrupt
their daily routine, I was left to my own devices.

However, as the people got used to my presence, they grew friendlier
and less aloof. Before long I was driving them to other parts of the
reservation, and was visiting their camps in Cibecue. Questions

ANTHEOR, ;PAP. GIFT OF CHANGING WOMAN—BASSO 123

about kinship terminology and clan organization were answered in a
matter-of-fact manner, but inquiries about religion were generally
brushed aside with ‘I don’t know” or “it has always been that way.”
As the summer progressed, I began to herd cattle with Cibecue
cowboys and, in this way, made several close friends who later turned
into first-rate informants.

In Cibecue, I lived in the home of Dick Cooley, who is part Apache
himself, and a stockman for the Cibecue cattle district. Mr. Cooley
speaks fluent Apache and is known and trusted by Indians all over
the reservation. I benefited greatly from my association with him.

When I returned to Cibecue in 1961 the people seemed glad to see
me. They answered my questions willingly and were no longer
reluctant to talk about religion. I continued to live with Mr. Cooley,
offer transportation, and, though less frequently than during the
previous year, work with the cowboys. To my surprise, I was able
to pick up the language more rapidly than before and, obviously, this
facilitated communication with Apaches who spoke no English. In
addition, I was able to enlist the aid of a close friend as interpreter.
My notebooks began to swell with detailed information on a wide
variety of subjects. Although I never paid my informants with
money, I frequently gave them ‘‘presents” of cigarettes and beer.

The data on which this paper is based were collected at Cibecue
during the summer months of 1960 and 1961. During this time, I
observed the preparations and performance of four girl’s puberty
rites. In addition, I had 57 long interviews (ranging from half an
hour to 2 hours) about the ceremony with 16 different informants.
All but two of these were over 40 years of age. Three were women.
Following the method outlined by Kluckhohn (1944, p. 10), I used
my most trusted informants as a check group against which to gage
the testimonies of others. Five individuals (four men and a woman)
comprised this test group. Of my 57 interviews, 29 were held with
them.

Of approximately 170 pages of field notes bearing on the girl’s
puberty rite, I estimate that a little over one-third were written in
the presence of informants, the rest being written immediately after
interviews had concluded. Forty-seven conversations were carried
on through an interpreter.

I was able to obtain what information I did because of a number
of factors. Two of these, however, were of particular significance
and deserve special mention here.

1. Apaches are more apt to speak candidly and truthfully about the girl’s
puberty rite than any other ceremony. The reason for this is that it is not

concerned with sickness, a subject which the people fear greatly and are always
reticent to mention.

124 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuL. 196

2. Because of my age (21), I was able to ask the older people to ‘‘teach’”’ me
about the ceremony. In a very real sense this approach was in keeping with the
Apache pattern of young men asking elders for instruction in the higher matters
of religion.

APACHE WORDS

Apache words in the text are written in terms of the broad phonetic
transcription indicated below. Phonemic interpretation awaits further
investigation.

=|]
ie
e=[e]
eh=[e]
a= la]
ah=[x]
9=I[c]
oh=[o]
u=(y]
uh=[u]

p,t,k=voiceless stops
b,d,g=voiced stops

tz=[¢]
x=(’]
t=[)]

ay =[ai]

v=nasalized vowel

PRELIMINARIES

At one point in history, probably not more than 70 years ago,
almost every Western Apache girl had a puberty ceremony, or na th es
(‘preparing her,’ or ‘getting her ready’). Today this is no longer
true. In Cibecue, the ceremony is held only two or three times a
year and, in a number of other settlements on the Fort Apache
Reservation, it is not performed at all. Two reasons for this decline
are readily apparent. First, as a result of inroads made on the tradi-
tional religion by missionaries, some Apaches no longer believe in
the effectiveness of na ih es, that it will assure the pubescent girl,
among other things, of long life and prosperity. However, this
attitude is opposed by many older persons, notably those of the present
erandparental generation, who still consider na ih es an extremely
important ceremony, and one from which the entire community,

6 Throughout Arizona, and in a great deal of the popular literature, na ih es is frequently referred to as
the ‘‘sunrise dance,” a term which Apaches themselves use when speaking to Whites.

ae GIFT OF CHANGING WOMAN—BASSO 125
as well as the pubescent girl, will benefit. A second reason that
na th es is held less and less is its prohibitive cost. As will be shown
below, the amount of money and work required is staggering, and
this condition makes the ceremony impossible for most people. In
fact, Apaches say ‘‘only rich people give na ih es.”’

The decision to hold na 7h es is usually made before a girl has her
first menses. When she is 11 or 12 years old, her parents and grand-
parents discuss the possibilities of having a dance. If, as occasionally
happens, parents are hesitant, a grandparent will supply the in-
centive to follow the ‘old ways.” One informant recalled:

I wasn’t sure about having a dance. My wife wanted to because she had one
when she was a girl. Now, some people think it’s old-fashioned and the medicine
men don’t have the power. It costs a lot, too. We didn’t know what to do.
Then it came close to when my daughter was to bleed for the first time, so we
had to get going. Then my mother came to my camp and said, “I hear you
won’t give my granddaughter na 7h es. Why don’t you have her one? I am an
old lady but I am still strong. Na th es did that.”’” We decided it was good to
have na th es.

Another man said:

I wanted my daughter to have one [na th es]. Some people say it doesn’t
mean anything, but I think it is good. It sure was good for the old people.
Maybe they had more power than today.

Still another informant, of a different opinion, related:

Two years ago, my daughter had her first [period] and some people said I
should have na th es for her. But I don’t believe in those superstitions so I said
no.

A girl’s parents will not contemplate na ih es unless they can afford
it. Although clan relatives relieve some of the burden with gifts of
food and money, the financial expense of the ceremony falls in large
part on members of the girl’s extended family.

A father, who recently gave na th es for his daughter, said:

Me and my wife started saving money about 6 months before she [his daughter]
had her first [period]. I saved on gas and my wife didn’t buy as many things at
the store [trading post]. My brother and his wife tried to save a little. So did
my wife’s parents, but they didn’t save very much. We did most of it. When
she had her first we had about $200 saved up, but it wasn’t enough and just
before the dance my wife had to borrow another $50 from her brother to buy
flour and sugar with. It was a long time ’til we could pay him back.

Relations between the girl’s family and their blood kin must be
unstrained because, without the contributions of kinsmen, there
would be too much work for an extended family, even a large one, to
accommodate. If, for any reason, serious tensions exist between
them, plans for the dance are postponed until the difficulties can be
resolved. If this is impossible, the idea of holding na ih es may be
completely abandoned.

747-014-669

126 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLn. 196

An informant commented on this problem in the following way:

When I have na th es for my daughter, I had trouble at first. A lot of people
were mad at my wife because she got drunk one night and got into a fight with
my brother’s wife. She hit her with a bottle and had to go to jail in Whiteriver
for 60 days. They said to me: ‘‘We won’t help you get ready for na th es because
your wife drinks too much and acts crazy.”’ Even my clan relatives were mad.
They said: ‘Why does your wife fight with your brother’s wife? He has been
friendly with her. It is because she drinks all the time. Maybe she would get
drunk and fight with us.’’? I was really scared for a while, because I didn’t
know if anybody would help us at the dance. Then my wife apologized and cut
down on drinking, and we got help. But some people were still mad, and did
nothing for us.

Occasionally, nonrelatives offer to help, particularly when the
dance ground is being prepared. It is rare, however, for persons who
are not related in some way to one or more members of the girl’s
extended family to take a large part in the preliminaries,

One man said:

Relatives do most of the work, but sometimes friends help out. They know
it’s good to help, and they might get some food for helping. A friend of mine
let me use his pickup [truck] three times to haul groceries from Whiteriver. My
wife borrowed two te tza [baskets] from her friend. Neither of these people are
related to us, but they just wanted to help out. When they get the place [dance
ground] ready and have social dancing until midnight, young men come and

work during the day. They go to the dance at night. I guess that’s why they
do it.

Another informant commented:

People who aren’t related to the girl don’t work as hard as her relatives. If
_you help your relatives out, then when you want something they will help you.
In most instances, no ceremony of any kind accompanies a girl’s
first menstruation. However, sometimes an elderly person, often a
maternal grandmother, will sprinkle hadn tin (‘yellow powder’) in
the four cardinal directions, saying to the pubescent girl as she does
so: “It is good this way. Now you will have na th es.” °

If the girl is too shy to tell her parents of her first menstruation,
she may inform her grandmother who conveys the news. It some-
times happens that a girl is not told that she can have na th es until
after her first period has occurred.

When she has her first one, they may tell her about giving na th es, They say
it will make her strong and keep her from getting sick and make her lead a good
life and stay out of trouble. Sometimes they don’t tell her that she has to dance
in front of all the people, because if she is bashful she might not want the dance.

But most girls that age have seen na ih es and know about it. They say no at
first because they are bashful. But they change their minds.

*HJadn tin is made from corn andjor cattall pollen. It is ubiquitous at all Apache religious ceremonies,
_~—~ and is often called “holy” powder.

Agree yy a GIFT OF CHANGING WOMAN—BASSO 127

When, for one reason or another, a girl decides that she does not
want to have a dance, she makes her feelings known and, if she per-
sists, plans for na th es are discontinued. The father of an unwilling
girl said:

My daughter didn’t want a dance. She said she was bashful and that her
friends would tease her. So my wife talked to her, but she didn’t change her
mind. My wife and my wife’s parents were sure mad. We never had the dance.
It wouldn’t be good to make her have the dance if she didn’t want it.

It is not until the girl has her first period that actual preparations
are begun. With the girl’s consent to participate willingly in na th es,
enough money to finance a large portion of the expenses, and amicable
relations with relatives, the girl’s parents embark on preliminaries,

NDEH GUHYANEH

(‘wise people’)

Immediately after a girl’s first menstruation, her parents select a
eroup of older persons, called ndeh guhyaneh, with whom it is decided
when and where the dance will be held and, most important of all,
who will be the girl’s na thé esn (‘she makes her ready,’ ‘she prepares
her’), or sponsor. Ndeh guhyaneh usually consist of at least one set
of grandparents and other close blood kin; but it is by no means
uncommon for nonrelatives, respected for their age and familiarity
with ceremonial proceedings, to be chosen. Normally, there are from
five to eight ndeh guhyaneh, the parents of the pubescent girl included.
Said one man:

When we have na th es we had eight ndeh guhyaneh. There was my wife’s
father and her oldest brother and my brother, too. We also asked PP [a medicine
man who does not know the songs for na 7h es] and his wife to help us. We
asked him because he is old and his wife is a very good lady. He has seen lots
of na th es, even though he doesn’t do that [particular ceremony]. His wife
would know about who is good for na thi esn.

One man, usually a grandfather of the girl, is appointed head or
nan tan (literally ‘chief,’ but here meaning ‘foreman’ or ‘boss’) of
the proceedings; he is second in command to the girl’s father. His
main functions are: (1) To supervise preparations for the dance, par-
ticularly those concerned with clearing the dance ground and erecting
temporary dwellings there; (2) to act as a speaker for the girl’s family
in offering the role of na tht esn to the woman nominated by the
ndeh guhyaneh; and (3) to give a speech before na ih es reminding
all present of the solemnity of the occasion and cautioning them to be
on their best behavior.

The problem of selecting a good day on which to hold na th es is
not a pressing one for the ndeh guhyanch. Regardless of when the

128 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLu. 196

girl has her first period, the ceremony is held in July or August, usually
the latter. (It is interesting to note that parents welcome their
daughter’s first menstruation in the fall or winter because this gives
them ample time to save up enough money for the dance.) The
Apache give two main reasons for preferring the summer months.
First, the evenings and nights are warm—ideal for the social dancing
which accompanies na ih es. Second, more people, notably high
school students, will be in Cibecue to attend the dance during the
summer than at any other time. Therefore, the ndeh guhyaneh
merely decide on an appropriate weekend, which must then be ap-
proved by the tribal council at Whiteriver.’ One informant said:

I wanted a weekend when there are lots of people. We [the ndeh guhyaneh]
talked about it for a while and thought the weekend of the rodeo in Cibecue was
good. There would be lots of people there from Whiteriver and Cedar Creck.
Some San Carlos people might come too. Some White cowboys ride in that

rodeo and they come sometimes. I went to see the tribal council and they said
it was o.k. to have it then.

Once a date has been selected, the task of picking a site at which
to hold na th es confronts the ndeh guhyaneh. Necessary requisites
include an abundant source of water close at hand; proximity to a
large supply of wood; and ample space for the dance area, the dwellings
of the girl’s close kin, and the close kin of na thf esn. If the girl’s own
camp or dwelling place is lacking, a location outside the community
is chosen, usually to the north (where there is more wood) and near
Cibecue Creek.

One woman, who had given na th es for her daughter, recalled:

Our camp was no good for na th es. It wasn’t big enough to have a dance,
and there wasn’t flat ground there. So we had it at ‘“‘where the road crosses the
creek.” That was a good place. There wasn’t many stones or weeds there and
it was easy to make a place to dance. Trees were so we could use them as part
of the shades and the places we kept the tulipay ® and groceries. [Another thing]

was that the cattle were close to that place so it was easy to get them to be
butchered. ...

SELECTION OF A MEDICINE MAN

Another responsibility of the ndeh guhyaneh is the selection of a
medicine man or di’ yin (‘one who has power’) to sing na th es.° Here,
a unique problem faces the people of Cibecue because there are no
medicine men left alive in the community who know the ceremony.
Therefore, a medicine man must be secured from elsewhere.

1 Practically all large ceremontfals, such as na th es, are held on weekends, enabling persons who hold jobs
outside of Cibecue to return and attend them. A favorite weekend for na th es is July 4, when an all-Indian
rodeo is held.

8 Tulipay is a native Hquor made from the fermented pulp of mashed corn shoots.
‘There are a few female shamans on the Apache reservations today, but these never sing na ih es

Anrunor. Par. GIFT OF CHANGING WOMAN—BASSO 129

Na ih es is performed alone (as opposed to being combined with
a second ceremony called nja njleesh, meaning ‘she is painted’) in only
two other communities on the Fort Apache Reservation besides
Cibecue—Cedar Creek and Carrizo. The two medicine men from
Cedar Creek who know na 7th es are thought well of in Cibecue.
They are highly respected for their strong power, which, in this case,
refers to their ability to make na ‘th es effective. On the other hand,
there is only one medicine man in Carrizo who knows the ceremony,
and, for reasons which I was unable to ascertain, he is much less
popular. Consequently, for the past few years, na ih es has been
performed in Cibecue by Cedar Creek medicine men. Cibecue
Apaches are quick to say that the Cedar Creek version of na th es
differs little from the way their own used to be performed. There are
only a few minor variations and these are attributed to the medicine
man’s individual style, rather than to significant regional differences
in ideology. Said one man from Cibecue:

They [the Cedar Creek people] do it almost like we do. When LA [a Cedar
Creek medicine man] comes over here it’s not hardly any different from the man
who sang here. Some of the songs are a little different but not many. It means
all the same thing. It’s never bothered people here. They know that LA sure
has got power. Besides, LA was born in Cibecue. He just learned [the songs
for na th es] from a Cedar Creek medicine man.

Once a medicine man has been chosen by the ndeh guhyaneh it
remains for the girl’s father to visit him and ask him to sing. This
may be done as long as a month after the girl’s initial menstruation,
but is usually taken care of much sooner. First, the girl’s father
acquires certain items to be given to the medicine man. These
include the tail feather of an eagle, to the base of which a turquoise
is attached with deer sinew, and a small container of holy powder.
With these in hand, and enough money to pay the medicine man’s fee,
the father sets out early in the morning. He must arrive at the medi-
cine man’s camp before sunrise.

I got there real early and waited in my pickup until the sun came up. I didn’t
see anything so I just sat there. Then his wife came out of her wickiup and
threw some water away she had in a cooking pot. She saw the truck but she
didn’t say anything and went back inside. Then the medicine man came out
and went behind the wickiup to make water. When he came back I got out of
my truck and went to where he was. I took all the stuff with me that I would
give him. He had sung na th es for my daughter 4 years ago, so I already knew
him and how much he would charge. When I got to where he was sitting he held
out his left hand, inside [palm] up. He held it like this and I opened the jar and
took out some powder. I made a cross with it on his hand in the four directions.
Then I put the feather on bis hand with the blue stone [turquoise] where the cross
came together. Then after I did this he took the feather and put it in his pocket.

Then I took out $50 from my wallet and put it in bis hand. Then I said, ‘‘Will
you sing na th es for my daughter?”’ Hesaid, ‘‘Yes.’”?’ Then I told him what day

130 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLn. 196

it was [to be held] and he said that was good and that he would be there 2 days
early, so to have everything ready then. Then he put the $50 in his pocket.
I went home after that and told ndeh guhyaneh what he said. They were glad
he said yes and would sing.

SELECTION OF NA IHL ESN

Ndeh guhyaneh also choose a woman to be the pubescent girl’s
‘sponsor’ or na tht esn. The most important criterion for a na thi esn
is that she belong to a clan which is not related to the girl’s clan or
to the girl’s father’s clan, or to any clan to which these are related.
In order to understand this proscription, one must know something
of the relationships between clans.

A clan is made up of persons who consider themselves related to
each other through the maternal line but who are unable to trace the
specific genealogical ties involved in these relationships. In the same
way, every clan has assumed matrilineal relationships with certain
other clans. Together, these related clans comprise what Goodwin
(1942) calls a “clan set.” Restating the above proscription in these
terms, a na tht esn must come from a clan which is not related to any
clan in the girl’s clan set or to any clan in the girl’s father’s clan set
(fig. 1). The sociological importance of this limitation will become
apparent later on, but for the time being it is instructive to see how
it applies in terms of actual Western Apache clans.

On August 20, 1961, na ih es was held for W.G. whose clan is iya
aiye (‘iya. az people’). TJya aiye is related tot ua gaidn (‘white water
people’), ¢ udil xili (‘black water people’), te na dolja ge (‘te na dolja ge
people’), tset e an (‘rock-jutting-into-water people’), nd nde zn (‘tall
people’), ducdo e (‘fly-infested-soup people’), tc t/da ditl uge (‘bushes-
sloping-up-growing-thickly people’), iya hadjin (‘mesquites-extending-
out-darkly people’), na da bilna ditin (‘mescal-with-road-across people’)
and sai e digaidn (‘ine-of-white-sand-joining people’). Thus, na iht
esn could not belong to any of these clans, because all of them are
members of the girl’s clan set. Similarly, na tht esn could not be
related to any of the clans which made up W.G.’s father’s clan set,
which included na wadesgijn (‘between-two-hills people’), £7 sle dnt 7
nd (‘cottonwoods joining people’), te indi yena dn aiye (‘walnut trees
people’), k auntci dn (‘TYeddened willows people’), ¢ e go tsudn (‘yellow-
streak-running-out-from-the-water people’), t 7 sk adn (‘cottonwood
standing people’), sag na [meaning unclear], h k aye [meaning unclear],
na gon an (‘bridge across people’), k isde stci na ditin (‘trail-through-
horizontally-red-alders people’), gad o ahn (‘juniper-standing-alone
people’), tca tei dn (‘red-rock-strata people’). Thus, including all the
clans in these 2 clan sets, there were 26 clans from which na 7ht esn

10 Clan names are here written in accordance with Goodwin’s (1942) orthographic system.

ee eal GIFT OF CHANGING WOMAN—BASSO 131

ot

Fieure 1.—Clan relationships. The pubescent girl’s clan (and her mother’s
clan) is Clan A, which is related to Clans B-F. Clans A-F make up the
girl’s clan set. The girl’s father’s clan is Clan G which is related to Clans
H-M. Clans G—-M make up his clan set. Na tht esn must come from a clan
which is not related to any of the clans in these two clan sets.

could not come. The woman selected was from cz te ilico sik a dn
(‘Gambel’s-oak-standing people’).

Once the ndeh guhyaneh have singled out all the women in the
community who are eligible (by clan) for the position of na thé esn,
they make their final decision on the basis of character and wealth.
Apaches say that character is the most important, but I recall one case
where it was freely admitted that the na iht esn was a “bad person.”
She had been chosen, I was told, because she was rich enough to afford
the expenses entailed. In all other instances, however, the na thé esn
was a woman of highly esteemed reputation. The following state-
ments indicate the qualities on which such reputations are commonly

based.

1382 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Buny. 196

Na thi esn must be a good person. She must be strong and work hard and never
be lazy. Alsoshe shouldn’t drink too much or act crazy. Sheshouldn’t say mean
things that will make other people mad at her and fight with her.

... Must be friendly with people and not make them fight with her. She
should be pretty old and wise about things. All the time she says nice things to
people.

. .. It’s good if she had a na th es when she was a girl herself. That way she is
wise and knows about the things in na th es and it makes her strong and healthy
and easy to get along with. If she had na th es she won’t act crazy or drink too
much or get in trouble or bother people. That’s why it is best to get someone
who had na th es to be na tht esn."!

... Should not be sick very much but strong so she can work hard and make a
good clean camp. It’s good if she has lots of children. Part of na 7h es is so the
girl has children easily and won’t die [in childbirth].

Th’ tsos ba hihl tza (‘eagle feather, it is given’) is the Apache phrase
used to describe the procedure of asking a woman to be na tht esn. The
nan tan goes to the woman’s camp before sunrise and asks her to fill
therole. Ifshe and her husband (who usually makes the final decision)
accept, the nan tan gives them an eagle feather, turquoise, and holy
powder. Then he invites them to come to the camp of the girl’s
parents—to drink tulipay and discuss details.

SH Tr KE
(‘my good friend’)

The meeting after th’ isos ba hl tza is an extremely important
event. It inaugurates a formal relationship between the girl, her
parents, and na tht esn and her husband—a relationship which is
binding for life, and one which is marked by the adoption of hitherto
unused terms of address. Henceforth, the girl and her parents call
na tht esn and her husband by the term shi ti ke, and vice versa.
By extension, shi tv ke means ‘all that I have belongs to you,’ and this
principle constitutes the basis of a new set of reciprocal obligations
incumbent on the persons involved. In fine, the shi tt ke relation-
ship means that they must help each other for whatever reason and
whenever the need may arise. The significance of this bond lies
in the fact that it is almost as demanding as an actual blood relation-
ship. Said one informant:

When you call someone shi ti ke you always help him out. It’s good to have
someone like that because he will help you. When my baby girl died last year,
the woman who was my wife’s na thi esn sure helped us out. She gave us food and
made her brother kill a beef for us. My wife gives her presents now and then too.
Last year I think my wife gave her some cloth for a dress. Whenever you get in

trouble it’s good to have someone like that. There was a man who had a son
who got put in jail in Whiteriver on a fornication charge. The woman who was

11 My data show that it 1s not imperative for na ih? esn to have had na ih es herself. However, a definite
preference is expressed for women who have.

Aiea poa PAP: GIFT OF CHANGING WOMAN—BASSO 133

na thi esn for that man’s daughter gave him some money to help bail the boy out
of jail.

Once a woman has agreed to be na 2ht esn, she prepares for na th es
in much the same way as the girl’s parents, relying heavily on the
support of close kin. Since na tht esn need not concern herself with
the preparation of the dance ground, her major task is to procure
enough food to feed her relatives during the ceremonial proceedings,
and to give the girl’s relatives a large feast on the day before na th es.

NA E TLANH
(‘have drinking,’ or ‘goes before drinking’)

About a month prior to na th es, the girl’s family, also concerned
about an adequate food supply, hold na e tlanh. ‘This is an informal
affair at which the girl’s family presents clan relatives (and relatives
of related clans) with tulipay, in return for which the latter promise
to contribute meat or groceries (fig. 2). A clan member need not
state precisely what he will contribute, or even how much, but it is
understood that in accepting the tulipay he obligates himself to
reciprocate with a fairly substantial gift.

Usually, na e tlanh is held at midday at the girl’s camp. Inside a
shade,!” gallon cans filled with tulipay are set out in rows. When
enough relatives have arrived, the girl’s father stands up and starts
the proceedings with a short speech, an example of which follows:

I appreciate your coming here at this time. I asked you all to come over
for drinks so you would help us out by buying groceries. You were not forced
to come, you were invited. You came of your own accord, because you wanted to
help out in the dance. It has always been done this way—helping each other
out for the dance, we relatives.

After this, the tulipay is distributed, and the rest of the afternoon
is spent drinking it and talking about the forthcoming dance.*

Thus, having enlisted a medicine man, appointed a na tht esn,
inaugurated the shi tt ke relationship, and assured themselves of the
support of relatives, the girl’s family turns its attention to preparing
the dance ground.

PREPARATIONS

Apaches attach a great deal of importance to ceremonial prep-
arations, and negligence in carrying them out is sternly rebuked.
To a large extent, the effectiveness of a ritual is thought to be de-
pendent on its being flawlessly performed, in precise coincidence with
its established pattern. Anything which disturbs or alters this pattern

12 Shades, in which the women do most of their work, are large rectangular structures, made from cedar

posts and cottonwood boughs. They closely resemble Spanish ramadas,
418 Na ¢ tlanh is a wonderful excuse for the men to get drunk, and they almost always take advantage of it,

134 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Buny. 196

tlu kad i kaidn :
. (related to father’s clan) (?) sa kine
(?)na ol cin x (related to
(related to father’s clan)
father’s clan) x
x iya aye
(same clan
as girls)
Ax
dzil tadn
tlu kad i kaidn (same clan
(related to as father’s)
father’s clan) be il sohn
x (related to
— girl’s clan)
ised ‘
a O- iy aye
dzil tadn (mother's clan)

(father's clan)

iya aye
(girl's clan) * dane
be il sohn
(related to
girl’s clan)

x
cil cosi kadn
(related to %
girl's clan) Pree es
(related to
girl’s clan)

Figure 2.—Clan relatives at na eitlanh. Diagram showing clan relatives (to the
pubescent girl and her parents) at a na e ilanh held in Cibecue on July 15,
1961. Note: Clan names are written here in accordance with Goodwin’s
(1942) orthographic system.

is inauspicious and feared; it is taken as a sign that something is
out of order. For example, if, as sometimes happens at curing
ceremonies, there is not enough food to go around, those present
become nervous. ‘Something is wrong,” they say, ‘‘there should
be food.” It is important to view the elaborate preparations which
na ih es and other ceremonies entail as the Apaches do—as pre-
cautions taken against the occurrence of incidents, such as the one
mentioned above, which inject an unexpected and unwelcome element
of disorder into a ceremony and, in so doing, reduce the possibilities
of its success. One man said:

Everything should be ready before it starts. You shouldn’t have to do any
work while it’s going on. There should be enough food and tulipay for everybody,

A . PAP.
eee Ae GIFT OF CHANGING WOMAN—BASSO 135

and the place should be clean. I was at a sing one time and they hadn’t cleaned
up the place. There were bottles and paper and tin cans lying around. The
medicine man picked up a can and threw it away real hard. He was mad be-
cause the place wasn’t clean. He sang but he was mad. They should have
cleaned up:

THE DANCE GROUND

As related in the section on ndeh guhyaneh, na ih es may be held at
the pubescent girl’s own camp, or if this location does not offer the
requisite features, elsewhere, usually some distance beyond the resi-
dential limits of Cibecue. Apaches prefer to give na th es at home
because less work is required since it is not necessary to build wickiups,
shades, or food shelters. A tent may be set up, or a shade enlarged,
to accommodate the large stores of food but, ordinarily, the family
structures suffice for this purpose.

At a site beyond the community, four to seven structures are
erected. These always include a semipermanent wickiup in which
the girl and the members of her family live until 4 days after na 7h es,
large shades in which great quantities of food are prepared, and smal]
corrallike food shelters for the storage of food, tulipay, etc. (fig. 3).

Characteristically, these structures are built in two separate groups,
always some distance apart, and occasionally facing each other across
the dance area (fig. 4). One such camp (at the minimum consisting
of one cooking shade and one food shelter) is used by na tht esn and
her kin, the other by the relatives of the pubescent girl. All prepara-
tions are in the hands of the latter, and na zhi esn does not arrive
(nor do any of her relatives) at the dance ground until her shades
and food shelters have been built.

The following account, which describes in some detail preparations
for a dance ground located about 2 miles north of Cibecue, is quite
typical and indicates clearly the three stages through which the work
progresses. Shades and food shelters for the girl and her relatives
are built, and then those for na iht esn and her kin. Finally, about
a week before na th es, the dance area is cleared, firewood hauled,
and food prepared. By the beginning of the last stage, na iht esn
has arrived at the site with her relatives and 6i goh 77 tat (‘half-night
dance’), which is discussed later in this chapter, has begun.

Stage One—July 17, 1960:

I took my family up there and the first night we slept in tents. The next
day my son and me and my wife made a big wickiup for my family. It had to
be big because I have lots of children. When that was finished, it was good for
the whole family. The next day, two of my brothers came up there and so did
my wife’s father and my parents. The brothers didn’t spend the night, but the
old people did, and they moved into the tents we had been using before. We
didn’t do much that day. After that, when my brothers came back, we started

136 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 196

COTTONWOOD BRANCHES

CEDAR OR COTTONWOOD POSTS

GRASS AND

ae mas / BRUSH

9 ee
C

FiaurE 3.—Na zh es structures. a, Cooking shade; b, food shelter; c, wickiup.

yi

ENTRANCE Le WAR OS

building a big shade for cooking and making tulipay. It sure was a big one—we
had lots to do. We had to get long posts and there weren’t any close by, so my
son and two brothers took my pickup and went to get some up by White Springs.

AyTHRoP. Par. —_ GIFT OF CHANGING WOMAN—BASSO 137

N

IRRIGATION DITCH

COOKING

© Tent _||lljj|j| wa ree esn
[shape EEE MEDICINE MAN
©) WIckiUP #2288 PUBESCENT GIRL

Figure 4.—WNa th es dance ground.

They cut down a lot of trees and made them the right length and brought them
back. Then we made the shade. The men put in the posts and made the top
and the women made the sides mostly. It sure took us a long time to make that
shade. About a week, I think. We didn’t do it all alone because some more
relatives came and helped us out. My wife’s brother and his wife came, and so
did my sister and her husband. They didn’t have to come. I didn’t ask them.
But they sure wanted to help me out. All those people went home at night but
they came back in the morning. We always gave them some food and tulipay
when they finished working. When that big shade was all over, we started on
food shelters. They’re easy to make, because you don’t need big logs for posts.
We made two of them in about 2 days, but we took it easy. After that we
brought some food up there. We didn’t bring all we bought for na th es, just
enough to last until bi goh ji tat. About this time my cross-cousin went to see
what yearlings we should butcher. He and some others got them and put them
in the bull pasture by Cowboy Springs. We didn’t butcher until 2 days before
na th es so we left them there.

Stage Two—July 30, 1960:

Our camp was finished up there and more people came to help us make shades
for na thi esn. We built them on the other side of the dance area from where

138 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Burn 196

ours were. It’s usually like this when you have na th es out of Cibecue. I don’t
know why itis. Wemadea big shade for na thi esn to stay in and a big shade for
cooking too. That shade wasn’t as big as ours because they don’t have so many
people to help with cooking. After we made these my cross-cousin said we
should build another one because na thi esn had lots of people coming with her.
So we did. Over there we didn’t make food shelters. Just covered-over places
inside the shades. That took a long time and we sure had to get a lot of wood.
All along other people helped. My brother came from Whiteriver with his son.
He only stayed 2 days but his son didn’t go home. My wife’s brother came too.
He’s pretty old but he can still work hard. He is still strong. He didn’t stay
there at night, but we gave him food and tulipay when he went home. After
that, I went to na tht esn’s camp [in Cibecue] and told her that we were ready.
She came there the next day with her husband and about 20 other people.
They were her relatives. I knew most of them because they live in Cibecue, but
some had come from San Carlos.

Stage Three—August 9, 1960; 6 days before na th es:

Then we had a lot of people up there, and the work got a little easier. We
cleared away all the weeds and stones from where they would sing and dance at
bi goh ji tat. We needed lots of firewood and the men did that with pickups.
The women put the food and candy away and made tulipay. Pretty soon every-
thing was ready. All we had to do was make a tent for the medicine man and
we did that 2 days before he came up there from Cedar Creek. We had bi goh
jt tat every night, and there was lots of dancing. One night everybody got drunk
and my cousin got into a fight with a boy from San Carlos. Ne didn’t get hurt
and we stopped the fight. I went and got groceries twice from Show Low and
once from Whiteriver. We had lots of flour and coffee and sugar and potatoes.
So we were just about ready. Two days before na th es I went to Cedar Creek
and got the medicine man and his wife.

A dance ground in preparation is a scene of great activity.
Hauling wood or unloading food from pickup trucks, the men joke
constantly and there is much laughter. Women, some with babies
in cradleboards strapped to their backs, put the finishing touches on
the shades or bend over their manos and metates grinding corn shoots
into pulp for tulipay. Young children race about wildly playing tag
and lassoing dogs. The older people, always keeping somewhat
apart from the others, watch the proceedings quietly, occasionally
calling out bits of advice. Few activities bring so many relatives
together in one place and the atmosphere is one of relaxation and
congeniality. The bonds of blood kinship are reinforced with the
bond of a common religious purpose.

BI GOH JI TAL
(‘half-night dance’)

Apaches do not have a phrase in their language precisely equivalent
to “social dancing.””’ However, when talking with Whites, they use
it to describe the series of dances which begin 4 or 5 nights before na
th es, and which are held every night up until the eve of the ceremony.

THEORY PAP: GIFT OF CHANGING WOMAN—BASSO 139

The Apache word for one of these affairs is bi goh ji tal. It isso called
because, unlike ceremonies designed to cure the sick, it does not last
all night, ending at midnight or shortly afterward.

The kind of dancing at bi goh ji tat is exactly like that which ac-
companies most curing ceremonies. But, in the strict sense of the
word, 62 goh 72 tat is not a religious ceremony. It has no connection
with a specific body of songs (songs from different ceremonies are sung
interchangeably) and, more indicatively, a medicine man does not
sing. Social dances are given for enjoyment, and are a primary way
in which the father of the pubescent girl rewards all those persons
who have helped in the preparation of the dance ground.

After darkness, a large bonfire is started in the middle of the dance
area, and the 15-30 men who take turns leading the songs and drum-
ming sit down on logs placed nearby.'* Most of these are older men
who have witnessed many ceremonies, and have memorized some of
the songs, which they like to sing. It is by no means unusual, how-
ever, for younger men, eager to display their vocal talents before a
large number of people, to join in the singing and occasionally even
initiate a song.

At ba goh 7% tat, as at all ceremonies where there is social dancing,
women select partners. Unmarried girls may shyly ask a boy to dance,
or tap him gently on the shoulder instead. Married women, on the
other hand, are seldom so reticent. Usually, they simply grasp the
wrist of the man with whom they wish to dance and, laughing
as they do so, drag him toward the fire. A married woman dancing
with a man other than her husband is considered humorous in its
irregularity. Very often, spectators will ‘joke” with a man or woman
whose spouse is dancing with someone else by saying: “‘You better
watch out. Your wife [husband] is dancing with another man [woman].
I don’t think she likes you any more. Pretty soon she will run away
from home.”

In social dancing, an individual simply locks elbows with a partner
(male or female) at his side who may or may not have locked elbows
with someone else. In this way, lines of dancers are formed, consisting
of from two to eight or nine persons. Then, in time with the beat of
the drums, four or five steps are taken forward, the dancers bouncing
lightly on the balls of their feet. Immediately following the last step
forward, four or five steps are taken backward and diagonally to the
left (fig. 5). Because of the diagonal direction of the backward steps,
the line does not move back and forth in the same place. Instead, it
slowly circles the fire. Ata bigohji tat attended by many people, there

14 The drums used at bi goh ji tat are metal cooking kettles across which are stretched piecesof buckskin or

canvas, Secured in place with strips of rubber from discarded inner tubes. Very resonant, they are struck
with a small branch, one end of which is looped over and tied with a piece of deer sinew or string.

140 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Bunn 196

Figure 5.—Social dancing.

may be as many as 10 or 12 long lines of dancers. Not infrequently,
one line, moving backward, collides with another line going forward.
This is expected. It is not harshly criticized and usually causes much
laughter.

For unmarried persons, 67 goh 7i tal is a time for courting. Boys
and girls arrive at the dance with several members of their own sex,
but very little time lapses before they have either paired off or formed
dance lines. Older Apaches say that much lovemaking goes on at
bi goh ji tat. Itis easy for the younger people to get liquor, they say,
and when slightly drunk, their inhibitions dissolve. I have no way
of knowing whether or not this is true, but several things suggest its
possibility.¢¢ First, young people, particularly girls, find it easy to

ae aaa GIFT OF CHANGING WOMAN—BASSO 141

escape from the watchful eyes of parents and relatives. Second,
tulipay and beer are easily obtained. Third, because there are so
many people at 62 goh jz tat, and so much noise and activity, it is easy
to wander away from the dance ground unnoticed.

Although bi goh 7% tat is a festive event, serious trouble can result
from too much drinking. Violent quarrels and fights may occur, a
source of deep concern to all the people directly connected with na th es.
The girl’s father and na thé esn try to anticipate trouble, but often
this is impossible; they are glad when the last bi goh 7% tal comes to a
close.

Throughout the preparation of the dance ground, the pubescent
girl has been inconspicuous. She may help with the cooking, and
dance a little at bi goh 77 tat, but she does not exert herself. Na th es
is near and she has been told to conserve her strength.

THE DAY BEFORE NA JH ES

On the day before na th es, four important events take place at or
close to the dance ground. In order of their occurrence, these are:

Gish ih zha ha aldeh (‘cane, it is made’)—a sweat bath, held in the
morning, which is attended by male relatives of the pubescent girl
and na tht esn, and at which the medicine man, assisted by two or
three old men, makes the ritual paraphernalia for na th es.

Nit sla th ka (‘food, exchanged’)—a substantial gift of prepared
food, presented in the early afternoon to the relatives of the pubescent
girl by those of na tht esn. The following day, directly after na th es,
the girl’s relatives reciprocate by making a similar gift to na tht esn.

Bi keh thl ze’ (‘she is dressed up’)—a short ceremony, at dusk, at,
which the medicine man sings four songs and, with the help of na thi
esn, presents the pubescent girl with the paraphernalia she carries
and wears during na th es.

Bi til tth (‘night before dance’)—a half-night dance, differing from
bt goh 72 tat in that the medicine man sings 12 or more songs, and the
pubescent girl joins in the dancing, fully clothed in the costume she
wears for na th es.

GISH IH ZHA HA ALDEH
(‘cane, it is made’)

The Apache sweat bath—called ta chih—is by no means associated
only with the preparation of paraphernalia for na th es. It is held
on Many occasions, sometimes purely for enjoyment, but usually to
get clean before a major religious ceremony. Regardless of its pur-
poses, the procedure at ta chzh never varies.

747-014-6610

142 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Buun. 196

Four to six men, stripped of all clothing except their shorts, enter a
specially prepared sweat house where one of them causes hot steam to
form by pouring water over a pile of heated stones. The men remain
within until they have sung four songs, after which they come out and
lie down on the ground or swim in the nearby creek.15 The length of
one 4-song set varies, depending on the duration of the songs and the
time between them, but it rarely exceeds 12 minutes. Gish ih zha ha
aldeh, the sweat bath before na ih es, begins about 8 o’clock in the
morning. It consists of from 9 to 12 song sets (in which only songs
from the na 2h es corpus are sung) and generally lasts about 3 hours.

While the medicine man, and those who are called his helpers, work
on the ritual paraphernalia, 20 to 30 male relatives of the pubescent
girl and na tht esn take sweat baths. They welcome gish th zha ha
aldeh as an opportunity to get away from the women (who are never
permitted to attend ta chih) and there is much joking and laughter.
At least four times during the proceedings the medicine man stops
working and enters the sweat house where he starts each of the four
songs.!® His helpers, on the other hand, wait until their work on the
paraphernalia is nearly finished before going inside.

Seated on the ground around a large tarpaulin, they work quietly
and deliberately. They do not participate very much in the joking
which goes on about them. Selected by the girl’s father and the
medicine man, they are fully aware that the hurried or shoddy manu-
facture of ritual items would render na th es grossly incomplete and
ineffective. One informant said:

Each one of those things has to be perfect. They are what the girl prays with.
If they are messy or fall apart or something goes wrong with them, the prayer
won’t be any good.

Before na ih es, the paraphernalia is not considered “holy.” It
becomes so only during na th es and for 4 days thereafter, when the
pubescent girl has power.’”

Around 11 o’clock a man comes from the dance ground and tells
the men who have taken sweat baths, most of whom are now lounging
around almost completely naked, to get dressed. Presently, a line
of women appears, carrying cans of tulipay, beef, corn, potatoes, and
coffee. This procession is led by the pubescent girl who presents a
basket full of freshly made tortillas to the medicine man. In return,
she is given the ritual paraphernalia and is told to take it directly to

15 Gish ih zha ha aldeh is generally held on the bank of Cibecue Creek, some 400-500 yards from the dance
ground,

16 The medicine man docs not take sweat baths at regularly spaced intervals. He enters the sweat house
whenever he chooses.

17 That the ritual items have no power until na ih es may account for the relaxed and joking nature of
gish ih zha ha aldeh. Apaches act differently around paraphernalia which has been used in a ceremony.
They become nervous and tense and almost always dispose of the items right away.

it oe a GIFT OF CHANGING WOMAN—BASSO 143

her wickiup. If, as sometimes happens, the ritual items are not
ready, the girl returns to the dance ground and receives them later in
the day. This meal (which the men enjoy alone since the women
depart immediately) signifies the end of gish ih zha ha aldeh.

THE RITUAL PARAPHERNALIA

Longevity, the most important quality bestowed on the pubescent
girl, is symbolized by a decorated wooden staff, called gish th zha ha
(‘cane’), with which the girl dances throughout the ceremony and
which, years later, she uses as a walking stick (fig. 6, left).1®

During na th es, she dances with that to make her live many years. After na
th es she keeps it in her wickiup and when she gets old, and has trouble walking
long ways, she uses it to help her out in that.

Resembling a2 modern walking cane in appearance, gish ih zha ha
is made from a hardwood (sycamore or oak) “. . . so it won’t snap
when she gets old.” It is painted yellow and may vary in length from
32 to 50 inches. Three or four days before gish th zha ha aldeh, one
of the girl’s male relatives cuts a straight stick of wood. He strips
off the bark and fashions the crook by bending over one end and
fastening it securely with a rawhide thong. At gish ih zha ha aldeh,
the medicine man or one of his helpers covers the cane with a mixture
of yellow ocher and water.’® When this paint is dry, two eagle
tail feathers are tied to the rawhide thong, which has been left in place.
To the base of one feather a turquoise bead is attached; to the other,
two orange oriole feathers. The eagle feathers are intended to protect
the girl from certain kinds of sickness. The oriole feathers serve a
different purpose. The oriole, Apaches think, is an exceptional bird
because, as one man put it:

It never says bad words and is happy all the time. It always talks good, and
minds its own business and never gets into fights. Every day, the same way with
that bird. Always acting good. It is thought that the oriole feathers will cause
the girl to have a good disposition when she grows up.

Turquoise is ubiquitous at all ceremonies. Equally omnipresent,
at na th es, are the four ribbons (black, green, yellow, and tan) which
symbolize the cardinal directions, and which are attached to the
rawhide thong on the cane. All informants had difficulty in stating
the precise meaning of these items. A typical comment follows.

I don’t know what those things are in na ih es. We always carry turquoise
with us. We pray with that. Everybody has one. In all dances [ceremonies]

18 Decorated for na th es, the cane is called gish th zha ha. Unadorned, and used as a walking stick, it is
called 2% kish.

19 The yellow ocher from which this paint is made comes from a small salt spring in Salt River Canyon,
about 40 miles by car from Cibecue. In order to extract the ‘‘yellow mud,” the following procedure is
observed. A small piece of turquoise is thrown into the spring, after which the ocher may be scooped out
with the right hand. Apaches claim if they tried to collect the ocher without first putting a turquoise in
the spring, a rattlesnake would emerge from it and strike them.

144 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLn. 196

—mN

Vy \ XS

if \
y) TURQUOISE \
BEAD |

i
| } Ve ;

high TUBE

SCRATCHING
sTICK——>

Fiaure 6.—Ritual paraphernalia.

there is turquoise, and they make the four ways, too. I don’t know why that is.
It makes the power good. We’ve always done that way. Ever since the earth
was set up, it has been that way. I don’t know why. It’s been that way since
Apaches learned to pray.

Turquoise and the four directions may be thought of as agents of
prayer. As one medicine man said, “they make medicine strong.”
An Apache ceremony without turquoise and some symbolic represen-

No77e) {ss GIFT OF CHANGING WOMAN—BASSO 145

tation of the four cardinal points would be as irregular as a Catholic
service without a cross.

After the ribbons have been fastened to the cane, two bells are
attached. ‘These resemble the small bells used on sleighs. As far
as I could determine, they have no symbolic significance. This is
supported by numerous testimonies from older people, who claim
that bells are a recent addition and were never used in the old times.
Bells are put on the cane, I was told, because they jingle when the
girl dances.

Two other items of singular importance, which are made directly after
the cane, are the drinking tube and the scratching stick (fig. 6, right).
Unlike the cane, these items do not function significantly in na th es.
They become important during the 4 days after the ceremony when
the girl has power and is holy. At this time she must drink only
through the tube (no container may touch her lips) and scratch
herself only with the stick (never with her fingernails). The drinking
tube and scratching stick have symbolic value as well. For 4 days
after na th es, the girl wears them wherever she goes. They symbolize
her sacred state.

The drinking tube is fashioned from a species of reed that grows in
Cibecue Creek. It is about 2 inches long, painted yellow like the
cane, and may have an oriole feather (serving the same purpose as
those on the eagle feathers) tied to it. The scratching stick, some-
what longer than the drinking tube, is also covered with ocher and is
made from sycamore, oak, or cottonwood. It is pointed at one end
and may be carved on the other. Both items are attached to a strip
of rawhide which the pubescent girl wears around her neck.

The other pieces of paraphernalia prepared at gish ih zha ha aldeh
include:

1. A small pendant of abalone shell which is tied to the girl’s hair
in such a way that it dangles over her forehead. The shell identifies
her as th sta nedicgheh (sometimes called White-Shell-Woman or
White-Bead-Woman but commonly referred to as Changing Woman),
a mythological figure, whom the girl personifies during the opening
phases of na th es.

2. A feather taken from the breast of an eagle and four ribbons
(the same colors as those on the cane) which are fastened to the girl’s
hair and hang down behind her. The eagle feather is nearly white,
and Apaches say it will cause the girl to live until her hair matches
its color.

3. A fringed and beaded buckskin serape, made by the girl’s
mother or grandmother. At gish ih zha ha aldeh, the medicine man
covers the outside of the serape with yellow paint and attaches a

146 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Buny. 196

downy eagle feather to each of its shoulders. This is done to enable
the girl to dance as lightly as feathers fall to the ground.

4. A large buckskin, the forward part of which is painted yellow,
to which an eagle feather is tied. Throughout na 7h es the girl dances
on this buckskin. It is thought that by doing so she will never be
hungry; there will always be a plentiful supply of deer.

NIZE SLA IH KA

(‘food, exchanged’)

Nil sla ih ka is a symbolic affirmation of the sha ti ke relationship
inaugurated at the very beginning of the na th es proceedings (see pp.
132-133). As has been mentioned, it is an uncomplicated ritual in-
volving gifts of prepared food. On the day before na ih es, shortly
after the termination of gish ih zha ha aldeh, na thi esn and her rela-
tives bring their gift to the pubescent girl’s camp. On the next day,
the girl’ skin reciprocate.” The same procedure is followed by both
camps.

Carrying cans or pots filled with tulipay, coffee, tortillas, beef,
corn, and potatoes, 20 or 25 members of a camp line up two abreast
and walk across the dance ground led by two men beating drums.
There is no singing. When the procession reaches the other camp,
it is greeted by the mother or father of the pubescent girl (if na tht
esn is giving the feast) *4 or na thé esn (if the girl’s relatives are the
first to make the exchange). After the food is deposited, the men
with the drums begin to sing, and five or six of the girl’s close relatives
(always including her mother and father) dance with na iht esn, her
husband, and a few of their close kin. Similar to the dancing at
bi goh ji tat, it lasts for 12 to 16 songs, after which the persons who
brought the food return to their camp, leaving the recipients to eat
by themselves. The pubescent girl, although always present, takes
no defined part in the nit sla th ka proceedings.

The presentation of food at nit sla ih ka is witnessed by all the
members of both camps and excites much comment. A great deal
of importance is attached to the size of the gifts. A large amount
of food, which provides for seconds and thirds, is taken as a clear
indication of wealth, and results in increased prestige for the donors.
A large feast is also a sign that clan relatives have been generous
which, in turn, indicates that the clan members have been willing

2% I have witnessed one nil sla th ka at which this pattern was reversed; the girl’s camp gave the first feast
and na ihl esn gave the second. When questioned, informants expressed a definite dislike for this procedure
but added, ‘‘it didn’t really matter,” so long as the camp that gave the first feast received one in return
the following day.

31 These gifts of food, among the Cibecue Apaches, are called ‘‘feasts,””

Apraposay A. GIFT OF CHANGING WOMAN—BASSO 147

to help each other. Thus, a large feast at nit sla ih ka may reflect
clan unity. As one man said:

When they have a big feed it’s because all their relatives have given food or
money. All their relatives wanted to help out. Most clan relatives give food
beeause they don’t help out on the dance ground. When there is a real big
feed they gave a lot of food. Everybody is happy. That happens when they
feel like helping each other and are friendly.

Nit sla th ka ritually and symbolically joins na tht esn, her family,
her clan, and her clan set to those of the pubescent girl in a supposedly
everlasting reciprocal relationship. In exchanging food, the funda-
mental premise of shi ti ke—‘‘all that I have belongs to you’’—
is vividly portrayed. Ni sla ih ka is a solemnization of future
obligations. After na ih es, the extended families of na tht esn and
the pubescent girl are required to help each other in whatever way
they can. Even if no crisis arises in which they can be of assistance,
small gifts are exchanged from time to time. In the words of one
old man, this custom “keeps sha ti ke alive.”

In a society where so much importance is attached to persons whose
aid can be enlisted in times of hardship, nié sla ih ka serves a unique
purpose. In affirming the shi tz ke relationship it creates the only
artificial bond of reciprocal obligation in Apache culture. All others
depend on actual or imputed blood ties or bonds of marriage. Nit
sla th ka makes “kinsmen”’ of totally unrelated families and clans.

BI KEH IHL ZE’'
(‘she is dressed up’)

At dusk, some 5 or 6 hours after the nit sla th ka exchange, bi
keh thl ze’ takes place. This is a brief ceremony, consisting of four
songs.” Here, the pubescent girl appears for the first time dressed
in the costume she will wear for na 7h es, and is given the ritual para-
phernalia and instructed how to use it.

To begin with, and before the girl appears, a large blanket or
tarpaulin is spread on the ground outside the girl’s wickiup and four
drums (two from na tht esn’s camp; two from the girl’s) are laid
nearby. A small bowl of holy powder and five ritual items are then
placed on the blanket; the abalone shell, the eagle feather, four
ribbons, the drinking tube, and the scratching stick. When these
preparations have been made, the girl, clad in a new camp dress and
the buckskin serape, comes out of her wickiup and goes to the blanket.
She is followed by the medicine man who carries the decorated cane,
and by one or two of his assistants—the men who helped him make
the paraphernalia at gish ih zha ha aldeh earlier in the day.

2 The number four and multiples thereof are the Apache holy numbers,

148 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 196

After instructing the girl to stand next to na thé esn, the medicine
man gives a brief speech requesting all in attendance to gather around
the blanket.“ Following this, na tht esn gives the girl the abalone
shell, then the eagle feather and ribbons, then the drinking tube and
scratching stick, and finally the cane. After the presentation she
walks once around the girl, counterclockwise. Throughout this
“dressing” procedure, the medicine man or one of his assistants
explains what the paraphernalia means and tells the girl how it must
be employed during and after na th es.

After the girl has been given the cane, the medicine man sings the
first of four songs, all of which derive from the na ih es corpus. With
four drummers, he stands behind na ihi esn and the girl, who dance
side by side on the blanket. They do not lock elbows, as at bi goh
ji tat, but simply bounce lightly—first on one foot, then on the other—
in time to the beat of the drums. The girl is instructed to accentuate
the rhythm further by striking the bottom of the cane (held in her
right hand just below the crook) against the ground causing its bells
to jingle in unison with the drums.

After the first song, a few older people, particularly close relatives
of the girl, begin to dance around the blanket in conventional fashion.
They continue to do so until the start of the fourth song when the
medicine man’s assistants sprinkle holy powder over the girl’s head
and shoulders and her cane. When the medicine man finishes the
fourth and final song, he repeats this blessing, thus concluding bi keh
ihl ze’. The girl, still carrying her cane, retires to her wickiup, and
the crowd disbands.

At bi keh thi ze’ the pubescent girl becomes the focus of attention
for the first time in weeks of preparation for na ih es. The reason for
this is quite plain. In the eyes of the Apache, bi keh ihl ze’ readies
her for the new and crucial role she must play during na ih es. Fully
clad and equipped with her paraphernalia, she ceases to be ‘just an-
other girl.”’ She represents ih sta nedleheh (Changing Woman) the
mythological figure whom she will portray during the opening stages
of na th es, and upon whose power the success of na th es depends.
The girl’s new character is symbolized most clearly by the white
abalone shell on her forehead.

Apaches make it plain that bi keh thi ze’ does not make the girl
holy. Nor does it give her power; this will come at na th es. Bi
keh ihl ze’ prepares the girl for the reception of power; it prepares her

23 The girl stands to the right of na ih? esn on the blanket. Both face toward the east throughout the
entire ceremony.

44 Na ihl esn, directed by the medicine man, ties the abalone shell and the eagle feather and the ribbons
in the girl’s hair. She places the drinking tube and scratching stick (attached to a leather thong)
around the girl’s neck. With the cane, na ih? esn does no more than hand it to the girl who takes it in
her right hand.

ae mal GIFT OF CHANGING WOMAN—BASSO 149

for holiness. She emerges from bi keh thi ze’ in a unique transitional
state. Although ready for the power which will elevate her above
everyone else, she is as yet without it. Nevertheless, she is accorded
great respect and deference.

Said one old woman: ‘Bi keh thi ze’ shows everybody who 7h
sta nedleheh [the girl] is. It shows everybody that tomorrow she
will be at the head of her people.”

53 Aid i as a Wa
(‘night before dance’)

Whereas bi keh ihl ze’ readies the pubescent girl to assume the role
of Changing Woman, 0: til tih announces to the community at large
that she is ready to fulfill this duty. A half-night dance, bi ti tih
differs from 67 goh 71 tat (see pp. 138-141) in that songs aresung by a
medicine man, and the pubescent girl dances clad in her ceremonial
costume. She dances in the conventional fashion with two girls
(one on either side) who are roughly her age.?5 At no time during
the proceedings does she dance with a male partner. ‘“The cane is her
partner,” the people say.

By the time darkness comes, and a large bonfire has been started in
the middle of the dance area, the crowd has swelled to include persons
from most of the other communities on the reservation. They have
come by any available means—truck, car, horse—and will spend the
night at Cibecue in order to be on hand for the beginning of na th es
the next morning. At a large bi til tih three or four hundred persons
may be present. Bi til tih offers many people their first opportunity
to see the pubescent girl dressed for na ih es; and for all there is social
dancing. One reason 6i til tih is held, said a number of informants,
is to welcome all visitors to the dance ground.

While the medicine man sings, the girl and her two companions
dance with expressionless faces and downcast eyes. Contrasting
sharply with their solemnity is the gaiety of the other persons, who
laugh and joke. Beyond the light cast by the fire, partially obscured
by the darkness, the spectators gossip and drink and watch the
dancers.

Bi til tth is usually more restrained than 67 goh 71 tat. There is
less drinking and rarely any violence. The presence of the pubescent
girl curbs boisterous behavior. Said one informant:

At bi til t2h everyone is friendly. Nobody gets mad or gets into trouble. She
[the pubescent girl] is there, that’s why. Everyone knows she will have na th

25 The girls who dance with the pubescent girl at bi tid tih are usually her cousins (parallel or cross, no
preference expressed) or her sisters. ‘They dance with her because, in the words of one old woman, if they
did not, ‘‘. . the girl would be too bashful to dance alone.”

150 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Buy. 196

es and get power. If somebody gets mad or into a fight she may not use her
power for him when he blesses her.

Another man commented:

She will use her power at na th es for everybody. They respect her because
she can have the power to do this. Nobody gets in trouble around her.

The pubescent girl and her two partners dance until the medicine
man stops singing. Then they leave the dance area and retire to
their wickiups. Some of the older people say that ‘in the old days”
medicine men sang 32 songs at bi tiltih. Now they sing only 12 or 24.
This is to permit the girl to go to sleep early and save her strength
for the next day. After the medicine man departs (he, too, must
conserve his energy) anyone may sing in his place. In this fashion,
dancing continues until around midnight, when 62 tel tuh comes to
a close.

Bi til tih is primarily a social affair at which all in attendance are
‘“Gntroduced” to the girl who will impersonate Changing Woman.
But it is more than that. In a sense, bi til tih prepares the spectators
for na th es. The girl, clad in her buckskin and carrying her cane,
is a moving sight to many Apaches, one which touches something
deep in their nature and to which they respond with great emotion.
But at the same time they are mildly apprehensive, knowing that
soon she will have power. The prospect of power—even Changing
Woman’s beneficent power—creates a certain tension which, in
turn, inspires the sobriety and good behavior considered proper at
na th es.

NA IH ES
INTRODUCTION

Throughout the foregoing discussion, frequent mention has been
made of power, songs, and the mythological figure known as Changing
Woman. These topics should be somewhat expanded before pro-
ceeding any further.

Power.—When asked to translate the expression di yzh, Apaches
say ‘power.’ But this is only an approximation; there is no word in
English that accurately can be substituted for di yh. ‘‘Power,” in
its di yih meaning, is a supernatural force which men may obtain under
certain conditions from all phenomena of the Apache universe, includ-
ing mythological figures, animals, plants, stones, shells, etc. When
used properly, di yih serves as a vital tool, not only as an aid to the
individual in his day-to-day existence, but also as a safeguard against
the very source from which it is derived. 'To ward off lightning, one
needs lightning power; to kill bear, bear power; to cure snake sickness,
snake power. Certain powers are more potent than others and, as

a GIFT OF CHANGING WOMAN—BASSO 151

Goodwin (1938, p. 28) suggests, the strength of each can be roughly
gaged by the number of times it is employed ceremonially. The Sun,
Lightning, and Deer are referred to countless times, whereas certain
birds are mentioned very rarely.

Songs.—In ceremonies, songs are the means by which power is
solicited from its particular source and then subsequently controlled.
The 32 or more songs sung at na th es are believed to have first been
sung by Changing Woman, and are collectively called goh jon sinh’
(‘full-of-great-happiness songs’). With these songs the medicine man
first calls forth and then directs Changing Woman’s power into the
pubescent girl. It resides in her person for 4 days, making her ritual
paraphernalia potent. During this period, the pubescent girl personi-
fies Changing Woman and is said to be “‘sacred.’’? She is able to perform
marvelous deeds, even to the extent of curing the sick and bringing
rain.

Changing Woman.—Long ago, according to the myths, Changing
Woman lived all alone. One day she had sexual intercourse with the
Sun, and as a result of this union brought forth nay en ez gane (‘Slayer-
of-Monsters’), the foremost Western Apache culture hero. Four
days later, Changing Woman became pregnant by Water-Old-Man
and gave birth to tuh ba tes chine (‘Born-of-Water-Old-Man’). The
old people say that these half-brothers, or twins, were the first Apaches.
As they matured, Changing Woman taught them all the things Apaches
needed to know. Assoon as they were old enough, Slayer-of-Monsters
and Born-of-Water-Old-Man left home. Making constant use of
Changing Woman’s advice, they rid the earth of much that was evil.

Along with her sons, Changing Woman is thought of as one of the
founders of Apache culture (some informants said the only founder)
and, as such, is regarded with great fondness and admiration. Myths
dealing with her teachings and exploits are still recounted, and a part
of one of these myths—her sexual intercourse with the Sun—is
enacted by the pubescent girl at na th es.”

Changing Woman’s power grants longevity. This is because
Changing Woman, unlike other mythological fig ures, has “never died.”’
Although she grows old, she is always able to recapture her youth.
Two different accounts of how this is accomplished were related to me:

Like everybody, she gets old and has a hard time. But when she gets old she
doesn’t like it. So she walks toward the east and turns around [counterclock-
wise] four times. Then she is like a young girl all over again.

When Changing Woman gets to be a certain old age, she goes walking toward
the east. After a while she sees herself in the distance looking like a young girl

walking toward her. They both walk until they come together and after that
there is only one. She is like a young girl again.

26 The best recorded myths of the life of Changing Woman are found in Goodwin (1939) and Goddard
(1920).

152 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Bub. 196

Changing Woman will give the pubescent girl long life. This is
the fundamental theme of na ih es. During the ceremony, and for
4 days thereafter, the girl is called sa ni bi ti gishth, which means
‘old age beckoning to her.’ ‘‘Changing Woman is calling her,” the
people say. ‘Changing Woman makes na th es.”

PREPARATIONS

Around 7 a.m. on the day of na th es, two or three of the pubescent
girl’s male relatives make the few preparations that the ceremony
requires. They spread a large tarpaulin (1010 feet) on the ground
near the center of the dance area, on which they pile 8 to 12 blankets,
one on top of the other. The ceremonial buckskin is then placed on
the uppermost blanket, with the forward part of the buckskin pointing
east. From the cooking shade of the pubescent girl’s camp, the same
men bring six or eight cardboard cartons or te tza (‘burden baskets’)
filled with candy, chewing gum, popcorn, and fruit, which they
arrange in two rows directly in front of the buckskin. Then two
small baskets, one filled with cigarettes, the other with holy powder,
and four drums are placed in an arc to the west of the buckskin.

Shortly before the beginning of na th es, some 45 minutes after the
blankets have been ‘“‘laid out,” the nan tan of the pubescent girl’s
camp walks out of his shade and moves to the edge of the dance area
where he addresses the people. A typical address follows:

It is time that you should all be awake. Pretty soon na th es will start up.
Don’t be lazy. We want you alltosee this dance. It willbeagoodone. Every-
body should behave real good, and don’t get into any trouble. Wear good
clothes and get real clean. Don’t drink or make any disturbance. We have
spent a lot on this dance and we want you to like it. So do us a favor and don’t
get into trouble. And watch out for your children. There will be lots of people
milling around and driving their trucks. Last week over at Canyon Day a
little boy got run over because his mother wasn’t watching he was behind a
truck. Don’t let that happen here, please. We want everyone to have a good
time. I have said what I have said.

When the nan tan has concluded, the medicine man and four drum-
mers walk onto the dance area and take their places directly behind
the buckskin, facing east. Suddenly, the medicine man begins to
sing and, seconds later, the drums join in. As the song gathers
momentum, the pubescent girl comes out of her wickiup, dressed as
she was for 62 til tih, and carrying her cane.”’ She is closely followed
by one of her maternal relatives (almost always a maternal aunt)
clad in a new camp dress. The crowd, which has gathered around
the tarpaulin, parts silently and lets them pass. Directed by the

27 The girl may wear a different dress than the one she wore at bi til ih. Also she may have on an elabo-
rate multicolored bead collar, which is a very full necklace. Aside from this, and with particular regard
to her ritual paraphernalia, she is dressed exactly as she was for bi keh thi ze’ and bi tié tih.

anna GIFT OF CHANGING WOMAN—BASSO 153

medicine man (who has stopped singing), the girl takes her place on
the buckskin in front of the medicine man and his drummers. She
faces east, toward the rising sun. Her maternal relative follows her
example, standing on her left. The crowd draws closer. Na th es
is about to begin.

PHASES

As performed in Cibecue today, na th es is made up of eight distinct
parts or ‘‘phases.”” Each phase has a unique meaning, name, and
set of ritual actions; each is initiated, perpetuated, and terminated
by a group of songs, or “song set.”” The Apaches do not conceive
of na th es as an unbroken continuum, but rather tend to emphasize
and stress its different parts.

Each medicine man arranges the 32 or more goh jon sinh’ songs
which comprise na ih es to fit his own stylistic scheme. This pro-
duces great variation as to the number of songs in a given phase.
But the sequence of phases is a stable pattern from which there is
rarely any deviation. For example, one medicine man may sing 12
songs in phase J, while another may sing 8 or 16. Nevertheless,
phase I always precedes phase II. In short, regardless of the number
of songs in a phase, the order of the phases never changes.

I. BIHL DE NIL KE

(‘all alone, she dances’)

During the first phase of na ih es, which may consist of 8, 12, or 16
songs, the pubescent girl dances on the buckskin with her companion.*
In all respects, the method of dancing is identical to that at bi keh ahl
ze’. The dancers bounce lightly, first on one foot, then on the other,
always in time to the drums. With each beat, the girl strikes the
bottom of her cane on the buckskin, causing the bells attached to the
cross thong to jingle loudly. Her face is expressionless, her eyes
fixed on the buckskin. At the end of each song, the medicine man
and his drummers pause briefly, while the older woman wipes the girl’s
face with a handkerchief or smooths her hair.

The songs sung in phase I deal primarily with the Western Apache
Creation or, as the people say, ‘‘when the earth was set up.” Chang-
ing Woman is mentioned frequently. With his songs, the medicine
man asks for Changing Woman’s power (goh jon sinh’ di yih) on behalf
of the pubescent girl. Apparently, there is no given point (or song)
at which this force enters her. It is understood, however, that she

% I attended one na th es at which phase I lasted for 23 songs. Everyone I questioned admitted this to
be highly unusual. The reason discovered later was that na ih? esn, who makes her appearance at the begin-
ning of phase II, was sick. ‘Thus, it was felt necessary to continue phase I until she recovered. Through-
out, the girl danced in place with her maternal relative:

154 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLt. 196

receives it before the end of phase I. At the beginning of the fifth,
sixth, or seventh song, the medicine man tells the girl to pray to
Changing Woman. One informant said: “She couldn’t make that
prayer if she didn’t have power.” ‘The girl’s prayer is a short one—
da ha zhe esh dalt. Ih sta nedleheh (‘Long life, no trouble, Changing
Woman’).

II. NIZTAH
(‘sitting’)

At the end of phase I, which may have lasted as long as 45 minutes
if 16 songs were sung, the singing and dancing cease. Five or ten
minutes elapse before the start of phase II. During this recess, the
medicine man and his drummers take a drink of tulipay (from a can
or pot provided by the girl’s camp) or smoke a cigarette. ‘They do
not move from their positions behind the girl. Welcoming this chance
to rest, she remains on the buckskin.

Shortly before the first song in phase II, na tht esn makes her first
formal appearance of the day.” She comes out of her shade and walks
unescorted toward the center of the dance area. She is dressed in a
spotless new camp dress. Her loose unbraided hair has been freshly
washed. As she approaches the buckskin, the woman with whom the
girl has been dancing in phase JI departs. For the remainder of
na th es, na tht esn will be the girl’s partner.

Unlike the pubescent girl, na thd esn does not personify a mytholog-
ical character. Her function is to instruct the girl throughout na th es,
nothing more. She does not receive power and consequently is never
considered holy. As was explained to me:

Na tht esn tells the girl what to do, and not to be scared or bashful. The girl
does not know what to do next, and someone must tell her. That’s what she
[na ih esn] does. She doesn’t have any power at all, and the reason she does that
[instruct the girl] is because she helped put on the dance, and because they are
not relatives.

For the two or four songs that make up the structure of phase II,
the pubescent girl recreates the impregnation of Changing Woman by
the Sun. In 1920, P. E. Goddard (1920, pp. 426-427) was given the
following version of this incident.*°

29 At one na ih es, na iht esn did not take the place of the maternal relative until after two songs in phase
II had been sung. This was because, until that point, she had felt ill.

309 Unfortunately, Goddard does not make clear the exact identity of his informants, beyond saying that
they were White Mountain Apache. However, further in the account from which the above quote is taken,
he mentions the gan dance. If my informants are correct in saying that Cibecue and Carrizo never per-

formed gan in connection with na ih es, we can be reasonably certain that Goddard’s informant was not of
either of these bands.

IN . Pap.
ABEaRCE GIFT OF CHANGING WOMAN—BASSO 155

This maiden [Changing Woman when she was young] running as you say the
sun began it they say. Then in this fashion sun toward this way she sat they say.
Then sun from it shone in rays it wasthey say. Thenin here it shone it became
they say.

Goodwin’s (1939, p. 17) account, taken from a man named Bane
Tithla of the Eastern White Mountain Apache band (see also Good-
win, 1942, ch. 1) relates:

Then as the Sun came up she pulled up her dress toward Sun and spread her
legs apart, so that Sun shone between her legs. When Sun came up one of his
beams went right into her,ared one. Then she got her menstrual period and the
blood started to come. After that she became pregnant.

A somewhat fuller description of this episode was told to me by a
Cibecue Apache named Teddy Peaches, who is nearly 60 years old.

This way I heard it from my grandfather. He was from Carrizo, but they
tell it always the same way over here [at Cibecue]. She was living all by her-
self and went out one day for berries to get. It was before the Sun came up that
she went out. Then when the Sun came up, she felt tired and sat down. She
looked at the Sun and kneeled down like the girl does in na 7h es in front of it.
When she did that one of the Sun’s red rays came and went in there. After that
she noticed that she was bleeding from there and she didn’t know what it meant
because it was her first time. When it stopped she found out she was pregnant.
That’s all I know about that part of the story. I don’t think there is any more
to it.

Before the first song in phase II, na tht esn takes the girl’s cane
and places it upright between the two baskets or boxes farthest from
the buckskin. Then the girl takes a kneeling position, with her knees
some 20-25 inches apart. As the song begins, she raises her hands
to the level of her shoulder, and then, looking into the rising sun,
begins to sway from side to side not necessarily following the beat of
the drums. Na thi esn dances beside her.

The emphasis of phase II is on Changing Woman’s first menstrua-
tion, and not on the conception of nay en ez gane. The all important
fact that the pubescent girl has recently had her first period is given
a vivid symbolic portrayal by her assumption of the posture in which
Changing Woman is generally believed to have experienced her initial
menstruation. Pubescent girl and mythological figure ‘‘share’’ this
in common during phase II, and never is their identification with
each other more thorough.

Despite the unmistakable sexual nature of phase II, it is not in-
tended to promote the girl’s fertility. Apaches assume that any girl
who menstruates is fertile and, moreover, that this quality cannot be
heightened effectively by supernatural means.

156 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLu. 196

PHASE III. NIZTI
(‘lying’)

Phase III of na th es is based on the belief that certain parts of the
girl’s body are made strong by ritualistic massage. The reasoning
behind this belief is explained in the following quotation.

Changing Woman’s power is in the girl and makes her soft, like a lump of
wet clay. Like clay, she can be put into different shapes. Na thi esn puts her
in the right shape and Changing Woman’s power in the girl makes her grow up
that way, in that same shape. When na tht esn rubs her the right way, she will
grow up strong and hard and never get tired.

Shortly after the end of phase II, the medicine man instructs the
girl to lie prone on the buckskin, with her arms at her sides and her
legs together. (She may also be told to raise her head and stare into
the sun.) During phase III, which consists of one or two songs, the
girl remains in this position while na thé esn kneads the muscles in her
legs, back, and shoulders.

Na thi esn rubs her legs so she will never have any trouble walking long ways.
Also, so she can stand up for long time and never get tired. She rubs her back
so that when she gets to be really old age she won’t bend over and not straighten
up. Her shoulders . . . so she can carry heavy things for her camp and never
get tired doing that either; carry wood and water and groceries long ways.

Na tht esn rubs her back and legs so she can always work hard for a long time
and never get tired out.

Na tht esn does that for her so she will grow up strong and in good shape and
always be able to help out at her camp and whenever her relatives need help.

IV. GISH IH ZHA HA YINDA SLE DIE IHLYE
(‘cane set out for her, she runs around it’)

During the pause (8-12 minutes) between phase III and phase IV,
the pubescent girl remains on the buckskin and the medicine man
and hisdrummersrelax. The cane, which has been lodged between two
baskets or cardboard cartons in phases II and III, is retrieved by na
iht esn. Directly east of the buckskin, and approximately 25 feet
from it, one of the medicine man’s assistants makes a shallow cylindrical
hole in the earth with a crowbar. Here, na whi esn inserts the cane,
standing it upright.

When the opening song of phase IV begins, the girl runs to the cane,
circles it once, and runs back again. She is closely followed by na tht
esn who, after going around the cane, takes it from the hole and returns
with it to the buckskin. There, she hands it to the girl, and the re-
mainder of the song is danced in place.

This procedure is repeated during each of the three additional songs
that comprise phase IV. At the start of each, the cane is placed

aeons PA. GIFT OF CHANGING WOMAN—BASSO 157

farther away from the buckskin, thereby increasing the distance the
girl has torun. In song II, the cane is about 35 feet from the buck-
skin; in song ITI, about 50 feet; and in song IV, 65 feet.

Each of the four “runs” in phase IV symbolizes a stage of life
through which the pubescent girl has passed, or hopes to pass in the
future. The first and shortest is childhood. The second represents
young womanhood. The third run symbolizes adulthood and the
fourth, which is the longest, is old age. Apaches believe that as soon
as the girl circles the cane, she “‘owns”’ the stage of life it stands for.
Thus, after completing the final run, the girl has symbolically passed
through all the stages of life and is assured of living until she is very
old. This is the gift of Changing Woman, and the essence of na 7h es.
If the girl trips and falls while making one of the four ‘‘runs” she is
required to return to the buckskin and repeat the entire sequence.
Such a mishap is not viewed with alarm, nor is it interpreted as
symbolic of early death.

For the girl, that is the most important part. That is where she prays for long
life. She has the power to make herself very old when she runs around the cane
that way. Each time she runs around the cane that way she will live to be that
age. That way, after she makes the last time—when it is far away—she will live
until a very old lady.

She goes through her liferunning around that cane. Changing Woman did that
one time and it made her very old. The girl has her power to grow up to a long
age.

v.

The structure of phase V * does not differ greatly from that of phase
IV, and its alleged function is similar to phase III. Before the first
four songs, the cane is placed in a hole about 20 feet east of the buck-
skin. When the singing begins, the pubescent girl and na thi esn run
to the cane and circle it, just as they didin phase IV. For the second
song, the cane is placed south of the buckskin, Again, the girl runs
around it, followed by na tht esn. During song III, they run to the
west, and in song IV, to the north.

Whereas phase III is thought to strengthen the pubescent girl’s
body, phase V supposedly enables her to run fast without feeling
fatigue.

After she runs around the cane in the four ways, she will never get tired and will
always be able torun fast. Changing Woman gives her power to the girl and that
is why it happens this way.

She runs in the four ways so she will never get tired. Changing Woman ran

fast long time ago, they say. That is why the girl runs so fast around [the cane].
She wants to be like Changing Woman and run good.

31 In searching my notes, I have been unable to find any information concerning the Apache term used to
describe phase V. That it does have a name is certain. That it cannot be recorded here is due only tomy
negligence.

747-014—66——_11

158 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuULL. 196

VI. SHA NAL DIHL

(‘candy, it is poured’)

In phases I-V, only the pubescent girl profits from Changing
Woman’s power. However, in phases VI and VII it is used to the
advantage of everyone at the dance ground.

Phase VI begins when the medicine man blesses the girl by sprin-
kling a small amount of holy powder over her head and shoulders, and
on the crook of her cane. He may be followed in this by one or two
of his assistants, or by some of the girl’s old male relatives. Next,
the medicine man picks up a small basket filled with candy, corn
kernels, and coins of low denomination. Standing on the buckskin,
directly in front of the girl, he pours these contents over her head.
As the candy and corn fall to the ground, spectators nearby scramble
wildly to pick it up.

After he pours it over her head, everything in all the baskets gets holy. Not
just the stuff from the basket he pours over her. All the baskets, even the big
ones near the buckskin. Because it is holy, all those things, everybody wants it.
If you get a piece of candy, you will have plenty food all the time. If you take
one of those corns home and plant it, you have plenty corn to bring in later on.
You get some money, that means you get rich and never be poor. The girl’s
power makes all those things holy and good to have.

Following the “pouring of the basket,’’? the other cartons and
baskets containing candy, fruit, etc. are carried through the crowd
by several of the girl’s male relatives who encourage everyone to
reach in and take as much as they can. When all the baskets are
empty, they are placed in front of the girl on the buckskin. This
concludes phase VI. There has been no singing.

Vli. BA NA IHL DIH
(‘blessing her’)

Phase VII begins when the medicine man blesses the pubescent
girl and na tht esn with holy powder. At this point, all the adults at
the dance ground take a small pinch of powder from a basket held by
one of the medicine man’s assistants, and line up to repeat the blessing
for themselves.” Singing continues until everyone has done so. I
have witnessed one na th es, attended by an unusually large number
of people, at which phase VII lasted for 23 songs and approximately
50 minutes.

The significance of phase VII for the community is enormous, for

32 By adults I mean persons 18 years or older. Although children may accompany their parents in line,
they never sprinkle powder on na ih? esn or the pubescent girl.

Rage Pa GIFT OF CHANGING WOMAN—BASSO 159

Apaches believe that whatever wish is made while blessing the girl is
certain to come true. ‘She has power to do that.” In phase VII,
the girl’s power—Changing Woman’s power—becomes a means by
which anyone may attain his own personal ends. It functions in as
many ways as there are individual wishes. A few of these are recorded
below.

. to have a good crop of corn and beans.

. to make my sick wife get better.

. my cattle, to get fat for sale time.

. to cure up my daughter’s face. [In reference to a severe case of acne.]
seeraine

. my son in Dallas learning to be a barber, not get into any trouble.

VIII. GIHX IE KE

(‘blankets, she throws them off’)

Phase VIII begins shortly after the end of phase VII. It usually
is made up of four songs (sometimes six), three of which are danced
in place by na tht esn and the pubescent girl. During the final song,
the girl steps off the buckskin, picks it up with both hands, shakes it,
and then throws it 3 or 4 feet towards the east. Following this, she
throws a blanket in each of the three other cardinal directions, to
the south, then to the west, and finally to the north.

She does this for two reasons. She throws the blanket so she can always have
blankets, plenty of them, in her camp when she gets old. She shakes them out,
like if they had dust in them, so her blankets and camp will always be clean.
The buckskin she throws so there will always be deermeat in her camp, and
good hunting for everyone.

Phase VIII concludes na 2h es. Immediately after the last song,
the girl and na zhi esn retire to their wickiups. The medicine man
and his drummers leave the dance area in search of shade and a drink.
When most of the crowd has dispersed, two or three men from the
girl’s camp gather up the buckskin, blankets, baskets, and tarpaulin
and carry them away. Presently, the girl’s relatives will complete
nit sla th ka by bringing food to na tht esn’s camp.

FOUR “HOLY” DAYS

Throughout most of na 2h es, the girl’s power is used to benefit herself.
However, immediately after the ceremony, it becomes available to
anyone. It is not incorrect, though perhaps an oversimplification,
to say that during the 4 days which follow na 2A es the girl’s power is
public property.

At this time she is considered holy and continues to live at the
dance ground with her family. She is not obliged to stay there all

160 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLy. 196

the time, however, and is free to return to Cibecue during the day
or to accompany her parents on trips to other parts of the reservation.

Throughout the 4 days, the girl must observe certain taboos.
She may not wash herself, for it is thought that by doing so she would
sacrifice her power. She may drink only through her drinking tube.
If she were to drink from a container, whiskers would grow around
her mouth. A third restriction, and the one I am told is the most
difficult to maintain, dictates that the girl not touch her skin with
her fingernails. She may scratch herself only with a scratching
stick. Apaches say that if she did otherwise, ugly sores (and sub-
sequent scars) would appear where she touched herself.

Wherever she goes, the girl wears her drinking tube and scratching
stick around her neck. The four colored ribbons and the eagle
feather and the abalone shell are still in her hair, but she has dis-
carded the buckskin serape and has left her cane in the wickiup at
the dance ground.

During the 4 holy days, the girl’s power is believed to be strong
enough to cure the sick.** To be healed, a sick person stands facing
the girl, who extends her arms in front of her (palms up) and then
raises them quickly to shoulder level. She repeats this gesture four
times. At no point does she touch the patient. If, after such a
blessing, the sick person feels relieved, then the girl’s power is con-
sidered exceptional in its strength and she is henceforth called ba koh
di yy (‘she-can-perform-miracles’).

In addition to healing, the girl’s power may be used to bring rain.
I have never witnessed the rainmaking ritual, but received the follow-
ing description of it from a trustworthy informant.

Inside her wickiup, they stand her cane in the ground. Then she takes water
and sprinkles it over the cane. They say rain will come that way. There is a
medicine man in there and he sings songs when they doit. Four songs, I think.

Around noon on the fourth day after na th es, na iht esn unties the
ribbons and the feather in the girl’s hair and takes the drinking tube
and scratching stick from around her neck. Upon the removal of
this paraphernalia, the girl no longer has the ability to cure the sick
or bring rain, and her taboos are ended.

NA IH ES AND “LIFE OBJECTIVES”

For the pubescent girl, the function of na 7th es is largely an educa-
tive one. By means of symbols and symbolic actions, na th es
isolates four all-important “life objectives’ toward which, now

33 A pubescent girl cures a child with bowed legs. See Goodwin, 1942, p. 443.

Ree anges PAP. GIFT OF CHANGING WOMAN—BASSO 161

that she is a young adult, she should aspire.** These are physical
strength, a good disposition, prosperity, and, finally, a sound, healthy,
uncrippled, old age. To understand why these particular life objec-
tives are emphasized, it will be necessary to show their relevance
to other aspects of Western Apache culture—the supernatural world,
the role of women in the native economy, kinship obligations, witch-
craft belief, and the natural environment. It will be seen that the
significance of achieving the life objectives is apparent only when
the consequences and implications of failing to achieve them are
understood.

OLD AGE

Attaining old age is closely connected with triumph over the malev-
olence of the supernatural world. The Western Apache universe,
like that of the Navaho, is thought to be filled with a large number
of capricious forces which, unless treated with extreme care and
respect, may well cause sickness and death (Goodwin, 1938, p. 28).
Perhaps the greatest single source of anxiety for an Apache is that
he has unwittingly offended such a force and that disaster is close
at hand. Life may be seriously disrupted or ended altogether as
a result of such transgressions, and the innumerable curing cere-
monies held by Apaches are but attempts to neutralize them.

The people say it is possible to stay on good terms with the super-
natural. However, this is difficult and requires a rigid observance
of taboos, prayers, and the possession of strong individual power.
A man must never boil the stomach of a deer he has killed, nor let
the hair loosened by brushing a horse’s tail touch the ground. Women
must grind corn in a special manner, and take care that water never
falls on an eagle feather. Prayers should be offered on a variety of
occasions—at the birth of a child, when a new wickiup is built, before
the hunt, and prior to a long journey. By adhering to proscriptions
such as these, an amicable and “safe” relationship with supernatural
forces can be maintained. Apaches are quick to add, however, that
there are times when, despite all precautionary efforts, the adverse
forces are antagonized, in which case obeying taboos and offering
prayers have little protective value. An additional safeguard is
needed—personal or individual power. One who possesses such
power can avoid sickness and prolong life.

As symbolized by the four runs in phase IV of na th es, Apaches
divide life into a clearly defined progression of stages: childhood,

4 “Lite objectives” refers to those aims in life which, either declared or implied, are considered most
desirable and worthy of achievement and which, because of their fundamental] nature, stimulate activity
and regulate behavior.

In preparing this definition, I was greatly aided by the writings of Opler (1945, pp: 198-206), Linton
1945, pp. 111-113), Kluckhohn and Murray (1961, pp. 58-60), and F. Kluckhohn (1961, pp. 348-361).

162 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 196

young adulthood, adulthood, and old age. It is firmly believed
that old age is within the reach of anyone as long as he does nothing
to provoke a supernatural force to kill him. The immediate and
apparently inevitable reaction to the death of a young person is
“He did something wrong,” or ‘‘His power was weak.” Death before
old age is feared because it is unexpected and because it reinforces
the belief in a basically hostile universe. Death during old age is
“as it should be” because what is desired has become a reality, and
something approaching victory over evil has been accomplished.
Thus, the enviable old person is one who has avoided crippling illness
and death by staying on good terms with the supernatural. Con-
versely, he who is constantly sick or comes to an early end has obvious-
ly failed in this respect. Apaches do not dread old age; they consider
it an achievement.

Old people are treated with great respect. It is thought best not
to provoke them into using their assumed power in a vengeful way,
and their advice is sought regularly on matters of importance. They
also enjoy the leisure that comes with economic security. (In
virtually every case, old people are supported by their daughter’s
families.) In addition, the aged fill prestigious ceremonial and
social roles. Old men assume such positions as imputed clan leaders,
nan tan at na th es, or head drummer at curing ceremonies. Old
women take an active part in family and clan affairs and may be
chosen to be na tht esn. In brief, Western Apache culture rewards
longevity. By instructing the pubescent girl how to live safely in a
world of threatening supernatural forees—by giving her power, and
by stressing the need for prayers and taboo observance—na th es
shows her how this reward may be attained.

The power to reach old age is vested in the girl through a complex
set of symbols. She is provided with a walking cane to use when, as
an old woman, she has difficulty getting about. The downy eagle
feather in her hair will cause her to live until she herself turns gray.
In phase V, she passes through the stages of life by running around the
cane four times. Most important of all, she herself becomes Changing
Woman; the recognized source and giver of ‘‘many years.”

The eagle feathers attached to the cane protect the girl from
certain illnesses, and the turquoise will cause her prayers “to be
heard.” Throughout na ih es she is instructed to pray to Changing
Woman for long life; thus, the crucial connection between prayers and
attaining longevity is established.

The need for taboo observance is emphasized during the four holy
days that follow na th es, when the girl is not permitted to wash,
scratch herself, nor drink from a container. These restrictions are
symbolic of countless others she will have to obey as an adult. She

RAPER OH FAP. GIFT OF CHANGING WOMAN—BASSO 163

is made to understand that taboos will constitute a very significant,
trying, part of her life, and that any violation of them is a serious
matter. In explicit, although negative terms, she is told to fear the
supernatural. “Do not break taboos.”

PHYSICAL STRENGTH

Since life in Cibecue makes heavy demands on women, it is essential
that they be physically strong. Despite the harsh living conditions—
sickness, a poor diet, and insufficient protection from the cold—women
nevertheless fill the strenuous roles imposed on them by the native
economy.

They do most of the work connected with agriculture: planting,
weeding, irrigating, and harvesting. They also attend to a variety
of arduous household tasks: preparing huge quantities of food,
helping build wickiups and shades, collecting and chopping firewood,
and transporting food and water. Few families in Cibecue own
trucks (only one owns a car), and it is not at all unusual for a woman to
walk over 2 miles from her camp to the trading post and return,
often carrying 20 or 30 pounds of goods. Occasionally, though not
nearly as often as during prereservation days, women go on long
overland treks in search of wild plant foods such as mescal tubers,
pifion nuts, and acorns. Hard work is expected of all adult women.
Without the physical strength it requires, they place the survival of
themselves and their families in considerable jeopardy.

A girl’s economic education begins in childhood with a few easy
domestic chores. At the age of 5 or 6, she helps shuck corn and
carries an empty bottle to the trading post, receiving a few pennies
of deposit money in return. At 10 or 11, she is given instruction in
the techniques of agriculture, wild plant gathering, and wickiup
construction. Consequently, by the time she reaches puberty, a
girl is thoroughly acquainted with the duties that await her as an
adult.

Na th es symbolically awards her the qualities of physical strength
and endurance she will need to fulfill these duties. In phase III,
na ht esn massages the girl’s legs, back, and shoulders in order to
make them strong. By running in the four directions during phase V,
she acquires endurance. Throughout the entire ceremony, the eagle
feathers on the shoulders of her buckskin serape invoke a lightness of

foot.
GOOD DISPOSITION

Na th es prepares the pubescent giz] for life in society by symbolically
eranting her that quality considered most necessary for the mainte-
nance of friendly relations with other people—a good disposition.

164 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLy. 196

To understand the significance of this ‘‘gift,”” something must first be
said about kinship obligations and witchcraft belief.

It is difficult to overemphasize the importance of kin and clan ties
in Western Apache culture. In a very real sense, the Apache cate-
gorizes all other human beings on the basis of whether or not they are
related to him. As individuals with whom he lives, works, and
participates in ceremonial activities, relatives stand fundamentally
opposed to nonrelatives, who are generally distrusted and approached
with cautious formality. Whenever serious difficulty arises (lack of
food, funds, or transportation), or when a major ceremonial is under-
taken, the Apache relies exclusively on his relatives for support.
Thus it is imperative that he do everything possible to stay on friendly
terms with them.

I have seen an Apache go to considerable lengths to help a clan
member who lived miles away from Cibecue. But as he himself
explained, he did so for a practical reason. ‘I helped him because he
is related to me. Our clans are close together. When I give na th es
for my daughter next summer, he will be glad to help me.” The
principle of reciprocity which underscores all kin ties is reflected in the
kinship terminology. Outside the nuclear family, all consanguineal
kinship terms are self-reciprocal (Goodwin, 1942, p. 193).

As the following example shows, the consequences of antagonizing
relatives can be dire indeed. A woman who drank heavily refused to
work around her camp. She roamed about at night looking for
liquor. Occasionally, she got into fights. One night, when drunk,
she went to the camp of her female parallel cousin. While there she
was discovered trying to steal some tulipay belonging to her cousin’s
husband. A violent quarrel ensued, and she was forcibly expelled
from the camp. Some days later, while on her way to the trading
post, the same woman tripped in an irrigation ditch and broke her
ankle. She was near her cousin’s camp and called for help. The
latter refused, recalling the liquor incident. The injured woman,
unable to move, was left alone for nearly an hour before a nonrelative
took pity on her.

One need only consider the part clan relatives play in presenting
na th es to understand the importance of keeping on good terms with
them. If clan kin should refuse to contribute food, or help with the
preparation of the dance ground, it would be impossible for the
pubescent girl’s family to hold the ceremony.

The possibility of being ‘‘witched’”’ makes offending nonrelatives
just as dangerous, if not more so, as antagonizing relatives. Witches
(il kashn) are people who are believed to use their power to harm
others. They cause sickness and death, seduce women, and kill
livestock. With their surreptitious techniques, they are active mostly

he eal GIFT OF CHANGING WOMAN—BASSO 165

at night. Witches are seldom seen or heard. They are said to be
easily angered and frequently act out of jealousy. Apaches say:
“You never know who might witch you if they get mad. You must
be careful with everyone and try to be friendly. Don’t make any-
body mad at you.”

Although sparse and quite possibly illusory, my data on witchcraft
show that the accused witch is usually not related to the victim.
Nonrelatives were suspected in four of the five cases of which I have
record. The single exception was an old woman who claimed to have
been witched by a distant clan member whom she had not seen in
over 10 years. This evidence was further corroborated by general
statements from informants such as: ‘Witches don’t like to witch
their relatives,” or “Relatives don’t often witch you.” Whether
or not anyone (relative or nonrelative) actually practices witchcraft
is immaterial for the moment. The important thing is that the fear
of being witched constitutes a very real source of anxiety.

Western Apache culture places a high value on the passive
personality—the personality disinclined toward such displays of hostile
feelings as might anger a relative or upset a potential witch. A
highly esteemed person is one who is friendly, generous, and adroit
enough to avoid situations which might result in interpersonal con-
flict. Such a person goes out of his way to mask signs of aggression,
and is always reluctant to pry into other people’s affairs. In na th es,
these qualities are symbolically bestowed on the pubescent girl by the
orange oriole feathers attached both to the eagle feathers on her cane
and to her drinking tube. She is ritually awarded those character
traits which her culture considers virtuous and a prerequisite for
smooth social interaction. In addition, she is provided with a living
model of good conduct—the oriole—to emulate.

PROSPERITY

One of the aims of na th es is to assure the pubescent girl of
prosperity. In Western Apache culture, prosperity corresponds in
large part to the abundance of nature. More materialistically, it means
having enough food and money to withstand times of severe privation.
For most Apaches, making a living is difficult and uncertain. Their
plots of corn and beans rarely bear an extensive yield, and inclement
weather often results in no yield at all. Some years bring rain.
Others bring drought, or heavy downpours that uproot seedling
plants. Sudden frosts in the early fall ruin near-grown corn, and
lightning kills livestock. For all but a few families, private income is
low and credit at the trading post soon runs out. It is not surprising
that Apaches think of the prosperous man as one who is always free

166 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 196

from hunger. In phase VI of na th es, the pubescent girl is sym-
bolically protected against famine by the corn, the candy (Apaches
dearly love sweets), and the fruit which is cascaded over her head.
The buckskin on which she dances throughout the ceremony stands as
a guarantee of a plentiful supply of meat.

In recent years Apaches have come to place a high value on some
of the things money can buy. ‘Trucks, for instance, are a welcome
means of transportation, opening up wide areas of mobility, and even
the simplest cabin offers protection from the cold. Moreover, the
wealthy are able to hold frequent ceremonials, and most important
of all, money acts as a safeguard against the economic losses caused
by the natural environment. Within the past few decades, the prac-
tice of pouring a few small coins (along with the corn, candy, and
fruit) over the girl’s head has been added to na th es. Supposedly,
she is thus assured of wealth as an adult. Old informants point out,
however, that in their youth men reckoned wealth in terms of horses,
women in terms of blankets. The traditional symbol of wealth,
they say, occurs in phase VIII, when the girl throws a blanket in each
of the cardinal directions.

It will be immediately understood that the realization of any one
of the life objectives defined in na th es increases the possibility of
achieving others. Two specific examples of this interrelationship
follow:

The attainment of old age depends in large part upon an observance
of the proscriptions which mollify the anger of supernatural forces,
and thereby bring about good health. Good health is obviously
required for physical strength, a life objective in itself.

To maintain a good disposition—again a specific life objective—is to
escape antagonizing another and to cause him to seek revenge by
employing witchcraft. One result of witchcraft is sickness, which,
by definition, makes physical strength impossible.

It is clear that the four life objectives stressed in na th es are not
always separate from one another; rather, they may be mutually
dependent, forming a “life objective complex.”

The foregoing discussion may have left the impression that Apaches
conceive of the life objectives as explicitly formulated principles.
Actually, these are culturally determined attitudes which are under-
stood implicitly and rarely articulated. Their significance for the
pubescent girl is that they define patterns of behavior which lessen
the hazards and tensions in those areas of life most filled with
uncertainty, and in which failure may result in disastrous conse-
quences. If these patterns are carefully followed, they contribute
immeasurably to the equilibrium of society and the psychological
well-being of the individual.

Ate, Y)~=SSs«GE'T. OF CHANGING WOMAN—BASSO = 167

NA IH ES AND CIBECUE

Having spoken of what na th es does for the pubescent girl, I will
now discuss a few of the things it does for the community. In doing

so, I will make use of the ideas of adaptive and adjustive response set
forth by Kluckhohn.

My basic postulate .. . is that no cultural forms survive unless they constitute

responses which are adjustive or adaptive, in some sense, for the members of the
society or for the society considered as a unit. ‘‘Adaptive’’ is a purely descriptive
term referring to the fact that certain types of behavior result in survival (for the
individual or for society as a whole). ‘‘Adjustive’’ refers to those responses which
bring about an adjustment of the individual, .... Thus suicide is adjustive but
not adaptive. [Kluckhohn, 1944, p. 46.]
Kluckhohn’s approach differs from that of the older functionalists
(Radcliffe-Brown in particular) in emphasis but not in basic theory.
Whereas the latter were primarily interested in showing the relations
between abstracted elements of culture, Kluckhohn directs his atten-
tion to the contributions culture makes toward the preservation of the
equilibrium of individuals.

In his interpretation of Navaho myth and ritual, Kluckhohn (1942)
found the concepts of adaptive and adjustive response could be used
to good advantage. He concluded that from the standpoint of society
at large, rituals were “storehouses” of adaptive responses. In the
following discussion, I shall attempt to show that na ih es functions
adaptively; it contributes to the survival of Western Apache society.

Unfortunately, I am unable to explain clearly how na 1h es functions
adjustively. This would require a thorough knowledge of “motivation
stimulating the individual” that I do not have at the present time. I
know that Apaches cope daily with a wide variety of tensions, frustra-
tions, and anxieties which sometimes result in explosive and violent
behavior. But I am not at all sure about the precise nature of these
feelings, nor of the cultural and social conditions which foster them.
Consequently, in those instances where na ih es may function ad-
justively as well as adaptively, I can do little more than suggest the
possibility.

Naithes brings clan relatives together—As indicated earlier, a
Western Apache clan is not a localized kin group. Its members live
in different communities, scattered over the entire reservation.
Consequently, certain members of the same clan may see each other
very infrequently. Na 7h es is unique in that it unites large numbers
of clan kin at the same place and provides them with a welcome
opportunity to visit and work together.

For most Apaches, na th es is the most festive and sociable occasion
of the year. It is a time of activity, excitement, and social dances;
a time of generosity and abundance with food and drink for everyone.

168 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLy. 196

It is a time when individuals no longer living on the reservation come
back to see their relatives and old friends. It is a time for gossip,
bartering, and announcing forthcoming events. For the young people,
it is a time for courting. People come to na th es to “see the dance and
take it easy for a while and have a good time.’”’ One man said that,
for him, na th es was “like a vacation.”’

When surrounded by relatives, as he is at na 2h es, the Apache feels
more secure than at any other time. He knows that if trouble should
befall, support is close at hand. He shares common interests with his
kinsmen and there is always a great deal to talk about. He is relaxed
and at ease. He jokes and boasts in a good-natured way. He is
cordial. He has a definite sense of belonging, a heightened awareness
of those ties which bind him to specific segments of the social organiza-
tion. One of the major adaptive functions of na 7h es is that it con-
tributes significantly (if temporarily) to the psychological well-being
of the individual by creating an atmosphere conducive to the affirma-
tion of rapport between clan relatives. ‘This results in an increased
sense of social membership and reinforced clan loyalties.

Na th es strengthens kinship obligations—During the days that
precede na th es, the reciprocal obligations which clan kinship entails
are put to a crucial test. Without assistance from clan relatives, the
ceremony cannot be held. Members of the pubescent girl’s clan and
clan set are expected to contribute large quantities of food and help
make ready the dance ground. Na 7h esn’s clan relatives are counted
on to give food and small sums of money. Preparation for the ceremony
stresses the need for economic cooperation between relatives and forces
them to recognize their mutual dependency. By demonstrating the
practical benefits to be had from the fulfillments of kinship obligations,
na th es confirms the effectiveness of the existing social order, and
encourages the individual to adhere all the more strongly to established
patterns of kinship behavior. This has the obvious adaptive function
of promoting clan unity.

Na th es establishes reciprocal obligations between unrelated persons.—
Apaches say that one of the most important aspects of na th es is the
affirmation of the shi ti ke relationship. As previously noted, this bond
requires the members of the pubescent girl’s family, clan, and (theo-
retically) clan set to help those of na tht esn whenever the need arises,
and vice versa.

Ordinarily, such obligations exist only between blood and clan
relatives. Shi ti ke functions adaptively by creating reciprocities
between nonrelatives, thus greatly increasing the number of persons
who can be relied on for support. The shi ti ke relationship makes
“kinsmen” of individuals who are totally unrelated to each other.

ABTERORAPAR. GIFT OF CHANGING WOMAN—BASSO 169

Na th es relieves anxieties —Anthropologists have observed that one
of the primary functions of rituals everywhere is to give systematic
protection against the unpredictable, the unforeseen, and the perilous.
Malinowski (1931, p. 624) wrote that ritual was “nothing else but an
institution which fixes, organizes, and imposes upon the members of
a society the positive solution in those inevitable conflicts which
arise out of human impotence in dealing with all hazardous issues
by mere knowledge and technical ability.””, Kluckhohn has com-
mented that rituals help mask the vast role of “luck” in human
life. In general, ritual may be thought of as a response to the anxie-
ties of existence, a response which satisfies the individual’s demands
for a stable, coercible, and comprehensible world and which thereby
enables him to maintain inner security against the threat of disaster.

By investing the pubescent girl with Changing Woman’s power,
na th es protects the members of the community against sickness,
drought, famine, and poverty. The people feel that, if used effec-
tively, this power can cause good health, rain, an abundance of food,
and material wealth. In a sense, a girl’s puberty is merely an excuse
to invoke Changing Woman’s prophylactic benevolence and bring
good fortune to Cibecue. Apaches say over and over again that
everyone “gets something” from na th es. The ceremony does much
more than prepare the pubescent girl for adult life. It brings “good
luck” to the entire populace.

Four 4 days after na th es, the girl is “like a medicine man.” With
a simple gesture, she can cure the sick. In addition, she can bring
abundance. For anyone fortunate enough to pick them up, the corn
kernels and coins which are poured over her head in phase VI guar-
antee good crops and wealth. The fruit and candy which is distrib-
uted to all the spectators protects them against hunger. By dancing
on the buckskin, the girl assures a plentiful supply of deer. And
finally, by pouring water over her cane, she can cause rain,*®

Changing Woman’s power, acting through the pubescent girl,
brings the “good things in life” within the reach of everyone. As
mentioned before, the good things pertain directly to those areas of
life where Apaches can least tolerate insecurity and about which
they are the most anxious. Na 7h es relieves much of this anxiety by
promising “‘better times.” It provides the community with a strong
weapon—Changing Woman’s power—with which to combat natural
catastrophe. Thus, for the individual, na 7h es has an important
adjustive function; it reduces the fear of disaster. With regard to the
community, however, the ceremony functions adaptively. By forcing
community concerns into bold relief, it makes the people acutely

35 Besides relieving the anxieties common to everyone in the community, na ih es functions adaptively to
ease strictly personal worries. It will be recalled that in phase VII, the girl makes private wishes come true.

170 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLy. 196

aware of the interests, aspirations, and solicitudes they share with
one another. Na th es strengthens communal solidarity by uniting
the people under the aegis of a common system of sentiments.

Na ih es encourages “moral” behavior—aApaches think that the
achievement of life objectives is wholly “honorable” and ‘good.”
Consequently, na th es, which isolates four all-important life objec-
tives, has a profound effect on the moral attitudes of the community.
At na th es, parents tell their children: ‘It is good to have those things
so you can grow up to be old. Be strong and friendly. People will
always like you if you grow up old that way.” In stressing the need
for ‘‘virtuousness,”’ na ih es incites compliance with the normative
standards of ethical behavior. Once, after attending na ih es, a
young Apache told me: “I’ve been getting into trouble lately, but
I'll behave good from now on. J sure liked that dance. Ill be like
that girl who got that power.” In the absence of a codified system
of ethics, na th es serves a vital purpose. It strengthens belief in those
values which are the most important for the smooth integration of
Apache society and the psychological stability of the individual.

Na th es is symbolic of an ideal state of happiness which Apaches
claim actually existed long ago in mythological times. “In those
days,” the people say, ‘‘everything was good.”’ The myth of Chang-
ing Woman, and her personification by the pubescent girl, link na th es
to the past and thus provide the raison d’étre for its existence in the
present. The ultimate justification and sanction for na th es come
not from the ceremony itself but from the long cultural tradition of
which it is a product. An old man said to me: “Changing Woman
never died and she will always live.”

GLOSSARY OF APACHE TERMS

ba koh di yy (‘She can perform miracles’)—term applied to the pubes-
cent girl when, after na th es, she heals a sick person.

ba na whl dih (‘blessing her’)—phase VII of na 2h es, during which all
spectators bless the pubescent girl and na iht esn by sprinkling
holy powder on them.

br goh 72 tat (‘half-night dance’)—-social dances which precede na 2h es,
held at the dance ground.

bihl de nit ke (‘all alone, she dances’)—phase I of na 2h es, during
which the pubescent girl receives Changing Woman’s power.

bi keh whl ze’ (‘she is dressed up’)—brief ceremony on the evening
before na ih es, at which the medicine man bestows the ritual
paraphernalia on the pubescent girl.

bi til tih (‘night before dance’)—social dance preceding na th es, at
which the pubescent girl dances clad in her ceremonial attire.

AoTt6), )~s«GIET: «OF CHANGING WOMAN—BASSO 171

da ha zhe esh dali. Ih sta nedleheh (‘ong life, no trouble, Changing
Woman’)—prayer uttered by pubescent girl in phase I of na 7h es.

di yth (‘power’)—Apache term for supernatural power.

di yin (‘one who has power’)—Apache term for medicine man or
shaman.

gan (‘mountain spirits’)—also applied to the curing ceremony at,
which masked dancers impersonate these supernaturals.

gihe i ke (blankets, she throws them off’)—eighth and final phase of
na th es, during which the pubescent girl throws the ceremonial
buckskin to the east, and a blanket in each of the three other
cardinal directions.

gish th zha ha (‘cane’)—the decorated staff with which the pubescent
girl dances at bi til teh and na th es.

gish th zha ha aldeh (‘cane, it is made’)—sweat bath, attended by male
relatives of the pubescent girl and na tht esn, at which the medi-
cine man and his assistants make the ritual paraphernalia for
na th es.

gish th zha ha yinda sle dit ihtye (‘cane set out for her, she runs around
it’)—phase IV of na th es, during which the pubescent girl,
followed by na wht esn, runs and circles the cane which stands
upright in the ground.

goh jon sinh’ (full of great happiness’)—specifically the name given
to Changing Woman’s power; the songs sung at na th es are
collectively referred to by this term.

hadn tin (‘holy powder, yellow powder’)—cattail and/or corn pollen
considered sacred by Apaches and used in all ceremonies.

th sta nedleheh (‘Changing Woman’)—the mythological figure whom
the pubescent girl personifies during na ih es and whose power is
believed to grant long life.

th’ tsos ba hihi tza (‘eagle feather, it is given’)—term for the procedure
of asking a woman to be na ihe esn.

ul kashn (‘witch’)—Apache term for witch.

na e tlanh (‘have drinking,’ or ‘goes before drinking’)—informal
gathering at which clan relatives of the pubescent girl’s family
pledge gifts of food and drink (for na th es) in return for being
given tulipay.

na th es (‘preparing her,’ or ‘getting her ready’)—Western Apache
term for girl’s puberty rite.

na tht esn (‘one who prepares her,’ or ‘one who gets her ready’)—
woman who dances with the pubescent girl in na ih es and with
whom the girl’s family makes the shi ti ke contract.

nan tan (‘chief’ or ‘boss’)—prominent member of ndeh guhyaneh who
supervises the preparation of the dance ground and who formally
asks a woman to be na thé esn.

172 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLu. 196

nay en ez gane (‘Slayer-of-Monsters’)—Changing Woman’s first
child; his father was the Sun.

ndeh guhyaneh (‘wise people’)—group of older people who select a
time and place for na 2h es; they also choose a medicine man and
nominate a woman for the role of na tht esn.

nit sla ih ka (‘food, exchanged’)—the exchange of gifts of food which
takes place between the families and relatives of the pubescent
girl and those of na cht esn.

nmiztah (‘sitting’)—phase II of na th es, during which the pubescent
girl reenacts Changing Woman’s impregnation by the Sun.

niati (‘ying’)—phase ITI of na th es, during which na tht esn massages
the legs, back, and shoulders of the pubescent girl.

nja njleesh (‘she is painted’)—ceremony combined with na th es in
communities other than Cibecue, Cedar Creek, and Carrizo.

sa ni bi ti gishih (‘old age beckoning to her’)—term used with reference
to the pubescent girl prior, during, and 4 days after na th es.

sha nal dihl (‘candy, it is poured’)—phase VI of na th es, during which
the medicine man pours candy, fruit, and corn kernels over the
pubescent girl’s head.

shi ti ke (‘my good friend’)—term denoting the bond of reciprocal
obligation which is contracted between the extended family and
clans of the pubescent girl and na he esn.

ta chih (‘sweat bath’)—sweat bath.

te tza (‘carrying basket’)—a large basket, generally with buckskin
fringe.

tuh ba tes chine (‘Born-of-Water-Old-Man’)—Changing Woman’s
second son; his father was the mythological figure Water-Old-
Man.

tulipay (? ‘gray water’)—Western Apache liquor; made from the
fermented pulp of mashed corn shoots.

zu kish (?)—term for the pubescent girl’s cane when it is used as a
walking stick, and not as an item of ritual paraphernalia.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Gopparp, Puiny FE.
1920. Myths and tales from the White Mountain Apache. Amer. Mus. Nat.
Hist. Anthrop. Pap., vol. 24, pt. 4, pp. 371-527.
GoopwIiNn, GRENVILLE.
1935. The social divisions and economic life of the western Apache. Amer.
Anthrop., n.s., vol. 37, pp. 55-64.
1938. White Mountain Apache religion. Amer. Anthrop., n.s., vol. 40, pp.
24-37.
1939. Myths and tales of the White Mountain Apache. Amer. Folk-lore
Soc. Mem., vol. 33.
1942. The social organization of the Western Apache. Univ. Chicago.

Avner eae GIFT OF CHANGING WOMAN—BASSO 173

Goopwin, GRENVILLE, and Kavt, C.
1954. A native religious movement among the White Mountain and Cibecue
Apache. Southwest. Journ. Anthrop., vol. 10, No. 4, pp. 385-404.
Hower, Harry.
1938. The Southern Apache languages. Amer. Anthrop., n.s., vol. 40, pp.
75-87
KLuUcKHOHN, CLYDE.
1942. Myths and rituals: A general theory. Harvard Theolog. Rev., vol. 35.
1944. Navaho witchcraft. Harvard Univ. Peabody Mus. Pap., vol. 22, No. 2.
KuucKHOHN, CLYDE, AND LEIGHTON, DorRorHEa.
1948. The Navaho. [lst ed. 1946.] Cambridge, Mass.
KLucKHOHN, Criypg, and Murray, H.
1961. Outline of a conception of personality. Jn ‘Personality in nature,
society, and culture,’’ by Clyde Kluckhohn et al. New York.
Kuiucxkuonn, F.
1961. Dominant and variant orientations. Jn “Personality in nature, society.
and culture,’’ by Clyde Kluckhohn et al. New York.
Linton, Rapa.
1945. Cultural background of personality. New York.
Ma.tINowskI, BRONISLAW.
1931. Culture. In “Encyclopedia of the Social Sciences,” vol. 4. New

York.
OrtER, M. E.
1945. Themes as dynamic forces in culture. Amer. Journ. Sociol., No. 51,
pp. 198-206.

1946. An application of the theory of themes in culture. Washington Acad.
Sci. Journ., vol. 36.

747-014—66——_12

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SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION
Bureau of American Ethnology
Bulletin 196

Anthropological Papers, No. 77

THE WAHNENAUHI MANUSCRIPT: HISTORICAL
SKETCHES OF THE CHEROKEES

TOGETHER WITH SOME OF THEIR CUSTOMS,
TRADITIONS, AND SUPERSTITIONS

Edited and with an introduction by
JACK FREDERICK KILPATRICK

175

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ADINTAS A ADOT ADA

CONTENTS

PAGE
Rien OCEUIC GIO TA Pa nares eet Ne ew Re kd PP ten lee ate a 179
Historical sketches of the Cherokees, together with some of their customs,
traditions, and superstitions, by Wahnenauhi, a Cherokee Indian____ 183
Iciterabure:citede +e 2's ck ere sb ATT MSA ee Na BI ce as 212
ILLUSTRATIONS
PLATES

(All plates follow page 214)
1. Wahnenauhi.
2. George Lowrey.
3. Sequoyah.
4. John Ross.
iL Er

a ; ; ; L ty fe iu
as tee Sie ww ae wet wena ead n ene carat nese nn :

Ss ee ee

THE WAHNENAUHI MANUSCRIPT: HISTORICAL
SKETCHES OF THE CHEROKEES

TOGETHER WITH SOME OF THEIR CUSTOMS,
TRADITIONS, AND SUPERSTITIONS

Edited and with an introduction by

JACK FREDERICK KILPATRICK

INTRODUCTION

In September of 1889 Wahnenauhi (pl. 1),! a Cherokee woman
whose English name was Mrs. Lucy L. Keys, sent from her home in
Vinita, Indian Territory, a 70-page manuscript of her authorship to
the Bureau of American Ethnology. ‘‘Please examine,” she wrote,
“and if of value to you, remit what you consider an equivalent.”
After some negotiation the manuscript, entitled ‘Historical Sketches
of the Cherokees: Together with Some of Their Customs, Traditions
and Superstitions,’ was purchased in November of the same year
for $10.00.

In a letter to the Bureau of American Ethnology, dated November
8, 1889, the author stated:

The name, ‘Wahnenauhi,’ signed to the Manuscript, is my own Cherokee
name. You are at liberty to use either Cherokee, or English name in connection
with the Manuscript. Major George Lowrey was my Grandfather and I was
at his house when George Guess (Sequoyah) left for the West, also when his
companions returned without him.

The above-stated relationship to Major Lowrey (pl. 2) provided
the editor with the strong suspicion that the author was born Lucy
Lowrey Hoyt,? a mixblood of distinguished ancestry, connected by
blood and marriage to many of the most prominent families in the
Cherokee Nation. Subsequent communication with Clun D. Keys,

1 Wa:nino:hi (‘Over-There-They-Just-Arrived-With-It [long]’). This is a comparatively rare feminine
proper name.

2 Wahnenauhi was born in 1831 at Willstown, Ala. After removing to the West she lived at Park Hill,
Okla.

179

180 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 196

of Vinita, Okla., grandson of Lucy Lowrey Hoyt, removed all doubt
as to the identity of Wahnenauhi.

Maj. George Lowrey (1770?-1852), of whom Wahnenauhi writes
with obvious affection, was her maternal grandfather. Pilling
(1888, p. 186), quoting Rev. Samuel A. Worcester (1798-1859) whose
missionary endeavors were strongly supported by Lowrey, states:

He [Lowrey] was one of the Cherokee delegation, headed by the distinguished
John Watts, who visited President Washington at Philadelphia in 1791 or 1792.
He was one of the captains of light horse companies that were appointed to
enforce the laws of the nation in 1808 and 1810. He was a member of the national
committee, organized in 1814. He was one of the delegation who negotiated
the treaty of 1819 at Washington City. He was a member of the convention
that framed the constitution of the nation in 1827; and also that of 1839. He
was elected assistant principal chief under the constitution in 1828; which office
he filled many years. At the time of his death he was a member of the executive
council.

He always took a lively interest in the translation of the scriptures into the
Cherokee language, in which work he rendered important aid. One of his written
addresses on temperance has been for several years [prior to 1852] in circulation
as a tract in the Cherokee language.

Major Lowrey collaborated with the brilliant young Cherokee
classical scholar, David Brown (?-1829), the husband of his third
daughter, Rachel, in making what has been stated as being the first
translation of the New Testament into Cherokee, but what was very
probably a translation of the Four Gospels only. This accomplish-
ment was completed on September 27, 1825. Chapters 2-27 of the
Gospel of St. Matthew from this pioneer translation were published
in the ‘Cherokee Phoenix” (April 3 to July 29, 1829) (Pilling, 1888,
p. 111). At least a part of the definitive translation of the New Tes-
tament was based on the Brown-Lowrey version.

Major Lowrey served as head of the temperance organization
among the Cherokee in Georgia. The tract, referred to above, was
issued at Park Hill in two editions, 1842 and 1855 (Hargrett, 1951,
pp. 18, 60).

The mother of Wahnenauhi, Lydia, the second daughter of Major
Lowrey and his wife, Lucy Benge, has passed into the folklore of the
Cherokee people. At the age of 16, while a student at Brainerd
Mission, she was converted to Christianity and baptized on January 3,
1819. ‘Soon afterwards she had a dream in which the words [of an
original hymn] came to her so impressively that on arising in the morn-
ing she wrote them out as the first hymn written by a Cherokee”
(Starr, 1921, p. 249). Since the Sequoyah syllabary was not perfected
until 1821, one wonders whether Lydia’s hymn were in English or in
some phonetic system. In either event, it is still sung by her tribes-
men. It is to be found on pages 17-18 of the American Baptist

Anan PAY THE WAHNENAUHI MANUSCRIPT—KILPATRICK 18]

Publication Society’s issues of the ‘Cherokee Hymn Book” (on pp.
14-15 of the 1909 Dwight Mission Press edition) and it is called
“Une: hlany:hi o:ginali:i (‘The Lord and I Are Friends’).”

Wahnenauhi’s paternal grandfather was the Connecticut-born
Rev. Ard Hoyt (1770-1829), superintendent of Brainerd Mission
from 1818 until 1824, and subsequently associated with Willstown
Mission in Alabama until his death. His wife, nee Esther Booth
(d. 1841), was also a native of Connecticut (Walker, 1931, p. 43).

Wahnenauhi’s father, Dr. Milo Hoyt, the son of Rev. Ard Hoyt,
was also a missionary (ibid., pp. 134-135), as were two of her brothers-
in-law: Rev. Amory Nelson Chamberlin (1821-94), sometime super-
intendent of both the Cherokee Male and Female Seminaries (Starr,
1921, p. 555), and Rev. Hamilton Balentine, who served as super-
intendent of the Cherokee Female Seminary and whose wife, Nancy,
Wahnenauhi’s sister, was a member of the faculty (Foreman, C. T.,
1948, p. 150). Wahnenawhi’s mother’s sister, Susan, was the wife
of Andrew, the brother of Principal Chief John Ross (ibid., p. 161).

Lucy Lowrey Hoyt was one of the 12 in the first class that graduated
from the Cherokee Female Seminary. In the same month, February
of 1855, the Cherokee Male Seminary graduated its first class, also
12 in number, and in it was Monroe Calvin Keys,? Lucy Lowrey
Hoyt’s future husband. One of the classmates of Keys was Joel
Bryan Mayes (1833-91), Principal Chief of the Cherokee from 1887
until his death.

In Wahnenauhi’s day her planter class of mixbloods—wealthy,
educated, and receptive to all the Victorian attitudes of the correspond-
ing stratum in Southern White society—was set apart from its full-
blood tribesmen by formidable barriers. English was its first lan-
guage, evangelical Christianity its religion, and acculturation its
code. The surprising thing is not how much of the old Cherokee
culture Wahnenauhi and those of her social class had forgotten, but
how much of it they remembered.

The Christian missionaries—for the most part men of great force
and sagacity—swiftly drove most of the aboriginal culture under-
ground; the ruling mixblood class, engaged in a desperate struggle for
national survival, in the belief that its cause was strengthened in
direct ratio to rate of acculturation, seconded missionary efforts with
fervor. What with illustrious missionary blood in her lineage and
daily environment, one would expect Wahnenauhi’s backward view

3 Keys was born in Tennessee about 1823. During the Civil War he fought for the Confederacy in the
Second Cherokee Mounted Volunteers. Wahnenauhi and her children spent some time during the conflict
as refugees in the Choctaw Nation, where she taught school. In the early 1870’s Keys established residence
at Pheasant Hill, about 6 miles west of the present Vinita, Okla. He died in 1875 and was buried in a family
cemetery at Pheasant Hill. After having spent the last 25 years of her life as a cripple from a fall, Wah-
nenauhi died from apoplexy in 1912 and was buried beside her husband.

182 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY - -TBurn. 196

over her people to have a decided Christian bias. Although she was
actually but a couple of generations removed from the full flower of
the old culture, much of it must have seemed to her as remote as does
Beowulf to a citizen of present-day London.

And yet, some things of much significance to us she actually saw
with her own eyes; her report on Cherokee dress and coiffure, for
example, is quite valuable. ‘The myths that she retells, despite much
probable loss of details, have the ring of the authenticity of the family
fireside of her grandparents. Cherokee curing rites she doubtlessly
witnessed, even if she was unable to interpret them fully.

The information that Wahnenauhi has to give us on Lowrey and
Sequoyah is not extensive, but nevertheless priceless. If we had been
fortunate enough for there to have been competent guidance of the au-
thor in preparing her sketch, much data of enormous value might have
been saved from limbo. For example, she could have filled in some of
the disturbing gaps in our record of Sequoyah (pl. 3). She could have
settled for us the question of his parentage; she could have completed
the picture of his personal appearance. The glimpses of her grand-
father are valuable; but we would also have deeply appreciated a word-
picture of John Ross (pl. 4), whom she doubtlessly knew, and of Stand
Watie, under whose command her husband fought in the Civil War.
Wahnenauhi could have supplied us with fascinating details of planta-
tion life in the Cherokee Nation, of the routine at the Cherokee Female
Seminary, of the personality of Rev. Samuel A. Worcester, and of the
impact of the Civil War upon her people.

Wahnenauhi’s verbiage is replete with young ladies’ finishing
school posturing. The spirit of Scott and Tennyson pervades her
pages. Such would be unworthy of comment in a document penned
in Baltimore or Charleston at the time of Wahnenauhi’s writing;
what is intriguing is the fact that a scant few miles from her desk her
tribesmen were “going to the water’ with the same frequency, the
same earnestness, and for the same purposes as they did in prehistoric
times. Neither they nor Wahnenauhi could enter, nor did they want
to enter, into the respective worlds of each other; yet, they were
indissolubly bound together by the only ties that Cherokees ever
understood, or still understand—a fierce loyalty to common ancestry.

In the negotiations over purchase of the manuscript, Maj. J. W.
Powell, at that time director of the Bureau of Ethnology (the word
“American” was not in the title in those days), wrote on November
14, 1889: ‘You will thus understand that its value to the Bureau is
comparatively small.’”’ In view of its being much consulted since its
acquisition, Major Powell somewhat underestimated it. But its
true value lies not in what it purports to be—a contribution to Chero-
kee history and ethnology: rather, it is one of the most valuable rec-

Atay |) THE WAHNENAUHI MANUSCRIPT—KILPATRICK 183

ords available to sociologists in examining the psychological posture
of a highly acculturated 19th-century mixblood Cherokee toward
the fascinating dichotomy of cultures that was the Cherokee Nation.

HISTORICAL SKETCHES OF THE CHEROKEES, TOGETHER
WITH SOME OF THEIR CUSTOMS, TRADITIONS, AND
SUPERSTITIONS []

By Wah-ne-nau-hi, a Cherokee Indian

Fifty years ago, if someone had undertaken to write a History of
the Cherokee Nation, he would have done so with some hope of
success.

At that time Traditions were learned and remembered by those
who regarded it worth while to preserve from oblivion the Origin and
Customs of the Tribe. I know of only one person who attempted the
task of preparing such a work, Major George Lowrey, who was, for
many years, a prominent member of the nation, and well-versed in
Cherokee Lore.

The Manuscript was written in the Cherokee Language, and is
supposed to have been destroyed during the Civil War of the United
States.

The following Sketches and Incidents are given as I remember to
have heard them of older persons; and I trust they will be acceptable
to those interested in Indian History.

When the English first came to America, a large tribe of Indians,
calling themselves the Ke-too-wha, occupied the South Eastern por-
tion of North America; The Country now comprizing the states of
Virginia, Pennsylvania,[*] North and South Carolina, Tennessee,
Alabama and Georgia.

Very little is known of them, only as Tradition comes to us.

They have always considered themselves the largest and most
powerful Tribe on the Eastern side of the Continent, and have been so
acknowledged by the other Tribes.

Holding this place of Supremacy made them selfconfident and
independent. In disposition they were friendly and generous, though
always reserved before strangers. Fearless in danger, intrepid and
daring when occasion required, they were slow to take offence at
fancied injuries or insults.

4 Certain phases of the research necessary for the editing of this paper were made possible by a grant
from the National Science Foundation.

Inasmuch as they may be meaningful to students of Cherokee social history, Wahnenauhi’s orthography
and punctuation have not been altered.

5 Kentucky, portions of which the Cherokee claimed, was possibly intended (see Mooney, 1900, pp. 14-23).

184 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 196

They were always on friendly terms with the Delawares, by whom
they were called Ke-too-whah-kee. So highly were they esteemed
that, at one time, a Ketoo-wha was chosen and served as Chief of
the Delaware Tribe.[‘]

The Whites first met with these Indians in one of their towns,
on the bank of a small stream, which they named Cherry Creek, from
the number of Cherry trees which grew there; the people they called,
the ‘Cherry Creek Indians.” This name, by gradual variations,
came to be Cherok, then, Cherokee, as it now is. The Tribe, be-
coming familiar with their White Brothers, finally renounced their
original name, Ke-too-wha, and adopted that of ‘Cherokee,’ by
themselves pronounced ‘‘Dtsah-lah-gee.”’ ["]

There were several different Dialects used in the Language of the
Cherokees. [*]

In explaining the cause of this, we have recourse only to Tradition:

This tells us that in the “long time ago” there were several Tribes
conquered and adopted or “naturalized” by the Ke-too-wha, they
retained their own Idiom of Speech, or, used a brogue in trying to
learn the Language of their Conquerers.[*] This Story is the gen-
erally approved explanation of the difference in the Language of
the Cherokees. One dialect is the ‘‘Pipestem,” another the “‘Over-
hill,” in this the most noticable peculiarity is the prominent sound
of FR instead of ‘“‘L,”’ there being no ‘‘R” in the pure Cherokee. The
Cherokee Tribe was divided into seven Clans, or, Families. There
are some interesting facts in regard to the operation and influence of
Clanship.

If any one was killed, either by accident, or with malicious inten-
tion, his death must be revenged by members of his own Clan.

When the murderer could not be found, a Substitute might be
taken from his Clan. The Chief Town of the Nation was the only
place of safty for the Slayer, should he succeed in reaching this
Refuge, he must remain in it until after the Annual Green Corn
Dance.[*"]

He was then at liberty to leave, his life being no longer in danger.

6 Documentation exists for proving that the Cherokee and Delaware came into conflict within the historic
period; we have not discovered documentation for Wahnenauhi’s statement to the effect that a Cherokee
served as a Delaware chief.

1 Folk etymologies such as this and the hypotheses of Mooney (1900, pp. 15-16) and Swanton (1946, p. 217)
are equally unacceptable to conservative Cherokees. I (Kilpatrick, 1962, p. 39), strongly supported by
fullblood friends and relatives, suggest the possibility that the tribal name may be derived from the word
tsa: dlegi (‘he-[or she-] who-just-turned-aside’).

® Even at this late date the Cherokee dialects have been incompletely identified. Cherokee speakers
in Oklahoma employ such terms as Gi:dhahyo:h(i), Itsodi:y1, Atsi:sgvhnagesdé:yi, and Dla:y(i)go:h(i) for
modes of speech which they consider to be distinct dialects.

9 Cherokees themselves are quite aware that certain words, especially specific proper names, in common
usage are of foreign origin. A study of ‘similar terms [in Cherokee and Creek] for certain plants, animals,
and other things,’’ observed by Haas (1961, p. 22) would be especially profitable.

10 Cf. Gilbert (1943, pp. 324-325, 356-357).

Not] 6) 6 THE WAHNENAUHI MANUSCRIPT—KILPATRICK 185

The marriage of persons belonging to the same Clan, and of the
father’s Clan was strictly forbidden; and also marriage was prohibited
between relatives by blood. Capital punishment was the penalty for
breaking this Law.

Clan-kin was held most sacred.[!]

The mother was the Head of the Family, and the children were
called by the name of her Clan. Affectionate regard for kindred
was cherished; and old persons were treated with great respect and
tenderly cared for. Persons, who had at any time, especially dis-
tinguished themselves by deeds of Courage or Bravery were highly
esteemed, we give an illustration—

Once, a town was surprised by a band of enemies, and the Chief
killed: His wife, whose name was ‘‘Cuh-tah-la-tah,” ['7] on seeing her
husband fall, immediately snatched up his hatchet, shouting, ‘“Hi-
Tu-ki! Hi-lu-ki!”? (Kall! Kall!) [7*] rushed forward on the invaders,
striking down all who opposed her.

Her bravery so inspired the discouraged warriors with fresh Courage
that they hurried on to the fight and gained a complete victory.
Many instances could be quoted, of brave deeds and victories won
by Cherokee Patriots.

The Cherokees believed in one God, whom they called “‘Oo-na-hlah-
nau-hi,” ' meaning ‘Maker of all Things,” and ‘“‘Cah-luh-lub-ti-a-hi,”’
or, ‘The One who lives above.” They acknowledged Him as their
Friend, and believed that He made every thing, and possessed un-
limited Power.

They also believed in an Evil Spirit, called in their language,
“Skee-nah”; to his malicious influence they attributed all trouble,
calamity and sickness.'®

They believed in Familiar Spirits, Witch-craft and Conjurers.
Witches were supposed to be able to do much harm, both to persons
and to property. they received their power from the familiar spirits,
who were emissaries of the Evil one. The more easily to affect their
plans, witches were thought, sometimes to assume the form of birds
or beasts.

11 Cf. Gilbert (1943, pp. 203-253).

12 Go: dhale:da (‘ Perforated, It’).

13 Hi:luga! (‘kill you, (imp.)’).

14 Une:hlano-hi (Provider, He’). Mooneyand Olbrechts (1932, pp. 20-21) theorize that this term for the
Supreme Being is a synonym for the sun. I discover in Cherokee theology little to support this concept.

15 Galb:la?di é:hi (‘Resider [or One-Who-Properly-Belongs] Above, He [or She]’).

16 There is no universal evil spirit, corresponding to Satan, in Cherokee theology. Properly an asgi:na
is any sort of spirit, but it is usually considered to be a malevolent one. Wahnenauhi derived her connota-
tion from the Cherokee New Testament (Worcester, 1860) in which this term is employed for a devil, or the
Devil. Cf. Matthew 4:1 (p. 6): “Hna:gwohno: Ada:n(v)dho i:nage? wudhi?no:sdane Tsi:sa, asgi:na ugo:-
lizyedi:yi ayelv:se:i.””

186 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 196

Conjurors were doctors who, besides curing deseases, were thought
to have power to counteract the evil doings of Witches, and even to
destroy the witches themselves, without ever going near, or, seeing
them.

If a person was suddenly taken with a new or uncommon desease, a
Conjuror was immediately summoned by the friends of the afflicted
one. He first examined the patient, looking intently at him, and
asking questions about him.

He then made tea of some kind of roots, giving the sick one to drink,
and bathing his face and limhs with it. He then had recourse to
incantations, blowing his breath on the patient, making manipulations
over his body and all the time muttering or speaking in a low tone as
if conversing with some one.[!"]

Tn cases of severe pain, the Conjuror procured bark from a particular
kind of tree, and burned it to coals, then after warming his hands over
the fire, would press them tightly to the pain, then rub them briskly
over the fire. after performing this operation several times, quite
often the patient recovered.['*]

If this treatment proved unsuccessful then some one suspected of
being a witch was accused as the cause of the trouble.

Various methods, at different times, were resorted to, to find out
and punish the offender. one way was, to make a picture representing
the accused and shoot it. if the person died soon after, that fact was
proof conclusive of his guilt.[!]

Many medicinal plants and roots were known and used by the people
in common deseases. The bark of the Birch Tree was considered a
specific for Cancer and malignant ulcers.[*] A leaden-colored, oval-
shaped stone, thought to be solidified lightning, as it was dug from near
the roots of a lightning-struck tree, was a cure for Rheumatism. |[*"]

I think the Cherokees were not more superstitious than some
Civilized N ations.

A few birds and some wild animals were said to be messengers of
evil tidings. [”"]

There is a Legend of a large serpent, called the ‘Ground snake,”
being the color of the ground was said to betoken death to the one who

17 Wahnenauhi undoubtedly saw a dida:hnowi:sg(i) (‘one who cures them’) at work, but in this account
sho confused specific curing procedures with general. Tho bathing of the face and limbs, for example,
suggests treatment for apoplexy.

18 This treatment would be appropriate to a number of unrelated medical situations. The “bark from a
particular kind of tree’’ would be lightning-struck hickory or red oak bark.

19 This is not one of the standard techniques employed by a dida:hnowi:sg(i) in ‘working against’’ someone
who is molesting his patient.

20 Hickory bark and post oak bark are used nowadays. Perhaps thoy are substitutes necessitated by a
lack of correspondence of the flora of the old Cherokee locus and the new.

41 T have seon these stones (star-shaped, not oval) among the Eastern Cherokee, but not in Oklahoma,

22 Some, such as squirrels (good luck), have apparently not been reported. (Cf. Gilbert, 1948, pp. 367-369.)

No my) THE WAHNENAUHI MANUSCRIPT—KILPATRICK 187

saw it; if it appeared to several persons a National Calamity was
apprehended. |[**]

A buzzard feather placed over the door prevented the witches from
entering their cabins. |*4]

The Cherokees had many Traditions. Some are interesting, some
appear simply foolish, but hold some hidden meaning; others sound
strangely familiar, and are so like the Bible stories that Christian
mothers tell their little children, as to make one say, ‘‘Where, or, how
did they obtain them? Such is the one about the Boy who was
swallowed by a fish.

The Cherokee Story is, that the boy was sent on an errand by his
father, and not wishing to go, he ran away to the river. After playing
in the sand for a short time, some boys of his acquaintance came by in
a canoe, who invited him to join them. Glad of the opportunity to
get away, he went with them, but had no sooner got in than the canoe
began to tip and rock most unaccountably. the boys became very
rouch frightened, and in the confusion the bad boy fell into the water
and was immediately swallowed by a large fish. After lying there for
some time he became very hungry, and on looking around he saw the
fish’s liver hanging over his head. Thinking it was dried meat, he
tried to cut off a piece with a mussle shell that he had been playing
with and which he still held in his hand the operation sickened the
fish and it vomited the boy.|[”]

The story of how the world was made is this,—Observe that in
telling of the Creation, the plural number ‘“They” is used for the
Creator.

It is said, They took a turtle and covered its back with mud. This
erew larger and continued to increase until it became quite a large
island.

They then made a man and a woman, and led them around the
edge of the island. On arriving at the starting place, They planted
some corn and then told the man and the woman to go around in the
way they had been led, this they did; returning, they found the corn
up and growing nicely.

They were then told to continue the circuit; each trip consumed
more time, at last the corn was ripe and ready for use. ‘Then fire
was wanted.

23 This ‘‘Ground snake”’ is undoubtedly the mythical sea-dragon, the Ugh(a)dhe:n(i) (the spelling of this
word in manuscripts is variable). (Cf. Mooney, 1900, pp. 458-461.)

247 have found no evidence to support this statement, paraphrased by Mooney (1900, p. 284), nor that
of Mooney and Olbrechts (1932, p. 76) to the effect that buzzard feathers are hung over doorways for the
purpose of warding off disease. In Oklahoma a buzzard feather is placed above a front door to serve as an
agh(a)dhi:di:sgi (‘watcher of it [the house], it’), and this isa representative charm that accompanies the plac-
ing ofthe feather: A?hni gunv:dhodhe:sdi hno:gwo nihi nigazi go:ht:sdi tsugv:wahl(o)di sgihwa:dhve:hi ge:se:sdi
(‘Lam going to leave you on watch here. Now you will be the finder for me of all valuable things’) [Atsi:
sguhnagesdy:yi dialect].

% This myth is quoted in Mooney (1900, p. 321).

188 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Buny. 196

The animals were called together, and the question asked, ‘‘Who
will go and bring fire?”’ The ’possum first came forward and offered
to go; he was sent, but returned with out it; he had tried to carry it
with his tail, but had that member so scorched and burned that he
made a failure. They then sent the buzzard, he, too, failed, return-
ing with his head and neck badly burned [*]. A little spider then
said, “I will go and get fire,’ upon which the beasts and birds raised
an uproar, ridiculing the spider, but not one was willing to undertake
the hazardous journey, and the spider was allowed to go. She made
a little bowl of mud and placing it on her back started, spinning a
thread as she traced her way over the water on arriving at the fire,
she carefully placed some coals in her cup and returned crossing safely
on the bridge which she had spun [?’].

Another story is told of how sin came into the world. A man and
woman brought up a large family of children in comfort and plenty,
with very little trouble about providing food for them. Every morn-
ing the father went forth and very soon returned bringing with him
a deer, or, turky or some other animal or fowl. At the same time
the mother went out and soon returned with a large basket filled with
ears of corn which she shelled and pounded in a mortar, thus making
meal for bread.

When the children grew up, seeing with what apparent ease food
was provided for them, they talked to each other about it, wondering
that they never saw such things as their parents brought in.

at last one proposed to watch when their parents went out and
follow them.

Accordingly next morning the plan was carried out. Those who
followed the father, at a short distance from the cabin, saw him
stop and turn over a large stone that appeared to be carelessly leaned
against another.

on looking closely they saw an entrance to a large Cave and in it
were many different kinds of animals and birds, such as their father
had sometimes brought in for food. The man standing at the en-
trance called a deer, which was lying at some distance and back of
some other animals, it rose immediately, as it heard the call, and came
close up to him.

He picked it up, closed the mouth of the cave and returned, not
once seeming to suspect what his sons had done.

When the old man was fairly out of sight, his sons, rejoicing how
they had outwitted him, left their hiding place, and went to the cave,

2% This, of course, is in explanation of the hairless tail of the opossum and the colored head and neck of

the buzzard.
27 Cf. Mooney (1900, pp. 239-242) for North Carolina versions of the origins of the world and of fire.

Aaa P60 SHE WAHNENAUHI MANUSCRIPT—KILPATRICK 189
saying, they would show the old folks that they too could bring in
some thing. They moved the stone away—though it was very heavy,
and they were obliged to use all their united strength.

When the cave was opened, the animals, instead of waiting to be
picked up, all made a rush for the entrance, and leaping past the
frightened and bewildered boys, scattered in all directions and disap-
peared in the wilderness, while the guilty offenders could do nothing
but gaze in stupified amazement as they saw them escape. There
were animals of all kinds, large and small—Buffaloes, deer, elks,
antelopes, raccoons and squirrels; even catamounts and panthers,
wolves and foxes, and many others, all fleeing together; at the same
time birds of every kind were seen emerging from the opening, all
in the same wild confusion as the quadrupeds:—Turkeys, geese,
swans, ducks, quails, eagles, hawks and owls.

Those who followed the mother, saw her enter a small cabin, which
they had never seen before, and close the door.

The culprits found a small crack through which they could peer.

They saw the woman place a basket on the ground, and standing
over it shook herself vigourously, jumping up and down when lo!
and behold! large ears of corn began to fall into the basket. when
it was well filled she took it up, and placing it on her head came out,
fastened the door and prepared their breakfast as usual. When the
meal was finished in silence, the man spoke to his children, telling
them that he was aware of what they had done, that now he must
die, and they would be obliged to provide for themselves, he made
bows and arrows for them, then sent them to hunt for the animals
that they had turned loose.

Then the mother told them that, as they had found out her secret,
she could do nothing more for them, that she would die, and they must
drag her body around over the ground, that where ever her body was
dragged, corn would come up, of this they were to make their bread.
she told them that they must always save some for seed and plant
every year.[?*]

I have heard a story about the “Little People’, or, “Children.”
“Nuh-na-yie”’ [7°] is the Cherokee name for them. It was said that in
old times they were very numerous; they were inoffensive, and would
often help any persons whom they found in distress, especially children
who were lost, if a child were found, the Nuh-na-yie would appoint
several of their number to take care of it and supply it with food until
it could be restored to its parents or friends. for this reason they

23 Mooney (1900, pp. 248-249, 431) quotes the Wahnenauhi versions of these myths. I taped a rather
lengthy version of the ‘‘Origin of Corn’? myth in Cherokee County, Okla., in the summer of 1961 (Kil-
patrick and Kilpatrick, 1964, pp. 129-134).

20 No:néhi (‘they who continue to live’). Gs:néhi is the form more often used in everyday speech.

747-014—66——_13

190 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 196

[were] very much loved by the Indians who took great care not to
offend them, but for all that something happened by which the
Nuh-na-yie felt themselves very much insulted, and for which they
determined to leave. The Indians were aware of their intention, and
exerted all their arts of persuasion to induce them to remain, but
without success. there was nothing for them to do but to see the
last of them. ‘There was an arm of the sea which the Little People
were to cross.

The Indians assembled on the bank near the place of crossing,
looking at them sadly as they passed: on they went into the water, the
Indians watching all the time until on the opposite side they dis-
appeared in what seemed to be the mouth of a large cave in the margin
of the water. nothing more was ever heard of them. In appearance,
the little people were described as being wellformed, not more
than two feet tall, with an abundance of long black hair almost
trailing on the ground. It was said that they were very fond of music.

The drum seemed to be their favorite musical instrument, it was
used on all occasions; when on a journey they marched to the sound
of the drum.

It was often heard by the Indians, before the Nuh-na-yie went
away, sometimes in the mountains, or, in lonely situations far from
human habitations. sometimes in the night folks were awakened by
the sound of a drum very near their cabins, then it was said that the
Nuh-na-yie were about, and on going to their work in the early
morning, as gathering in their corn, or, clearing off land for a new field,
sometimes they were greatly surprised by finding it all finished up,
corn all gathered and put away, or, ground made ready for planting,
trees and brush all taken off and put up around the sides, making a
fence much better than they themselves would have done.[*"]

In early times, the clothing of the Cherokees was made entirely of
the skins of animals which they killed in hunting.[*!] The Cherokee
women became quite skilful in making clothes for their families, when
very young, girls were instructed in the art of preparing material for,
and making clothing. After dressing, the skins were rubbed and
polished until they were very smooth and soft, often nicely orna-
mented, by painting in different colors; for paint, or dye, the juices of
plants were used. The men wore a turban on their heads, their other
clothing consisted of a hunting-shirt, leggins and moccasins, all deeply
fringed.

30 Numerous tape recordings made in eastern Oklahoma by me in 1961 prove that the Cherokee by no
means believed that the ‘‘Little People’ disappeared. The recordings corroborate Wahnenauhi’s state-
ments as to the physical appearance, musical proclivities, and helpful attitude toward human beings of
these creatures. (See Kilpatrick and Kilpatrick, 1964, pp. 77-95.)

31 This is an oversimplification. The use of vegetable fibers and featherwork is discussed in Swanton
(1946, pp. 460-461, 472-473).

AnTHpor. Par. THE WAHNENAUHI MANUSCRIPT—KILPATRICK 191

The hunting-shirt was worn wrapped tightly around and folded
over the chest, fastened with a belt around the waist.

Belts, in later years, came to be very much prized, being worn
as an ornament.

They were made of bright colored worsted yarn interwoven with
white beads, and were several yards in length, so as to fold many times
around the body, they were worn tied at the left side, the ends, orna-
mented with tassels, hung nearly to the knees. Garters, made to
match the belt were tied over the leggins below the knees, the tasseled
ends left dangling.

The women wore a skirt and short jacket, with leggins and mocca-
sins, the jacket was fastened in front with silver broaches, the skirt
was fringed and either painted or embroidered with beads, and the
moccasins were trimmed with beads, in many colors. Their hair,
they combed smooth and close, then folded into a club at the back
of the head, and tied very tight with a piece of dried eel-skin, which
was said to make the hair grow long.

The men, in cutting their hair, always left the lock growing on the
crown of the head, this was braided and hung down the back. It was
called a “‘coo-tlah.’’ [**]

Both sexes were fond of wearing ornaments. Some wore broad
bands of silver on the arms above the elbows, and on the wrists and
ankles, they wore rings on their fingers, and in the nose, and ears;
I have seen old men with holes made in their ears from the lower edge
to the very top; [*] I never saw them wear more than two pair of
ear-rings at one time. They liked very much to wear beads around
their necks. [*]

Their dwellings were sometimes made by bending down saplings
and tying the tops together and filling in between with poles tied with
bark and interwoven with cane or withes, and a space left open for a
door, also a small opening near the top for smoke to escape.

For winter sleeping room, the saplings were bent quite low, making
the hut not more than four or five feet high in the centre; after
finishing off as the other, it was thickly daubed on the outside with
mud, leaving only a small opening near the ground, large enough for
a man to creep through; a large fire, of bark and dry sticks, was made,
and when burned up, the ashes and embers were taken out, and two
persons crawled in, and, with turkey wings, fanned out all the smoke,
and closed the entrance by hanging a skin over it.

32 This word appears to have dropped out of the vocabulary of the Oklahoma Cherokees.

33 The portrait, reputed to be that of Major Lowrey, in the Thomas Gilcrease Institute of American
History and Art, Tulsa, Okla., is highly informative (pl. 2).

% Wahnenauhi’s statements as to early 19th-century Cherokee dress are strongly supported by the brushes
of Francis Parsons, George Catlin, and John Mix Stanley. Throughout this whole passage there is some

confusion of dress at the time of contact with what the author saw in her childhood. The scalplock, for
example, she may never have actually seen.

192 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Buny. 196

This hut was called a “hothouse” and it was sometimes used to
steam a sick person in this is the way it was done,—The hot-house
being made ready, the invalid was given as much cold water as he
could drink, then taken in and left upon the ground until he was in a
profuse perspiration, when he was taken out and plunged into a cold
water bath. [**]

In their intercourse with all, except most intimate friends, the
Cherokees were reserved and independant, though very hospitable
and often generous; they preferred to give favors rather than to ask
them.

All Indians were called by them, ‘‘Yuh-wi-yah-i” which means,
“The real People,” others were designated by their color, as white
people, were, ‘‘Yuh-wi-na-kah” and black people, “Yuh-wi-kuh-
hna-ka.”’ [°°]

As before mentioned the Cherokees were given to hospitality;
On rude side-boards, in their camps or cabins, prepared food was
always kept, and any persons coming in, were at liberty to help
themselves, food was always offered to visitors or strangers stopping,
and a refusal to partake of it was considered an insult.

The women made bowls and cooking vessels of clay, and the men
made spoons and bowls of wood, and spoons of buffalo horn, which were
really pretty, as they were capable of being highly polished.

The women and girls prepared the food as is customary with other
nations. The principal dish, ‘‘(Con-nau-ha-nah,” [°’] was made of
Corn, Cuh-whe-si-ta [?*] was meal made of parched corn, and was
used when on a journey, the hungry and weary traveler on arriving
at a spring of water, alights and taking his bag of Cuh-whe-si-ta,
puts a few spoonfuls into a cup which he carries for the purpose,
mixes it with water and drinks it down, the requirements of Nature
are satisfied—and the traveler goes on his way as much refreshed as
when he began his journey in the early morning. The Cherokees
also used a drink called ‘(Con-nau-su-kah,’’ [®*] it was made of grapes
which were boiled, strained and sweetened with maple sugar or honey.
Corn was beaten in a mortar to make meal for bread, walnuts, chest-
nuts and hickory-nuts were often used in cooking, so were different
kinds of berries, of which the huckle-berry was the favorite.

% Although the o-si, or ‘hot-house,’ is mentioned in Adair (1930) and Timberlake (1929), the brief descrip -
tion in Mooney (1900, p. 462) is probably the clearest to be found in the standard Cherokee bibliography.

36 In every case Wahnenauhi presents here the designation for an individual who is a member of a specific
race: yowi:ya (‘person, entirely’); yowine:ga, usually contracted to yone:ga (‘person, white’); yv:wigo:hnage.
(‘person, black’).

37 Ghono:he:na, a hominy prepared with lye leached from green hardwood ash.

383 Ghohwisi:da.

3 Ghonv:su:ga. Before contact with the Whites, the sweeting was probably obtained from honeylocust
pods.

ANtanOr: FAP. THE WAHNENAUHI MANUSCRIPT—KILPATRICK 193

The men provided meat, and when game was plentiful, there was
no lack of such food.

Boys were taught when very young, to shoot with bow and arrows,
to hunt and to fish. Wrestling, foot-racing, ball-playing and corn-
stalk-shooting [*] were continually practiced, not only as a pastime,
but as a necessary exercise.

Before starting on an expedition, or, engaging in a contest of
any kind, they were obliged to take medicine, scratch and bathe, the
scratching was done with a small instrument having six points, some
said the points were rattle-snake teeth, but the one I saw was made
of a half dozen pins [“] fastened together with two pieces of wood or
bone.

This practice was strictly observed by ball-players when preparing
for a “big play’’—it was thought to make them brave and strong.
and, before the Annual Festival of the Green Corn Dance, which
lasted seven days, all must be scratched, none might partake of the
feast unless he had performed this operation; After this Festival,
green corn and all other vegetables were freely eaten.

At the Stomp Dances,[*”] terrapin shells enclosing pebbles, were
worn, fastened to the ankles, by the dancing women.

When the English came to America they were peaceably received
by the Cherokees, who presented them with food in token of their good
will. 1730 [*] is the earliest recorded date of a Treaty being made by
the Cherokees with the English; in 1755 [“] they ceded territory to
the British Colonists, and permitted them to build forts. Prior to
any treaty, a band of Cherokees utterly rejecting proposals of Peace,
used all their powers of eloquence to prevent the Tribe from making
a treaty.

They said that the Foreigners would get possession of a little now,
then a little more and would not be satisfied until they had taken all
the land, and there would be nothing left for the Indians.

Finding their efforts were unsuccessful, they determined to abandon
the Tribe, going far away into the Wilderness, crossing the ““Ummie
Aquah,” [“] and on to the “Cuh-too-sa Aqua,” [*] they would find a
Country for themselves, where the ‘“Yuh-wi-na-kah”’ could not follow:
Possessed by this one wild idea—to retreat from the neighborhood of

40 A study of these sports is much needed.

41 A ceremonial scratcher customarily has seven teeth, not six (see Mooney and Olbrechts, 1932, pp. 68-69).

#22 The Green Corn Festival and the stomp dances, as performed in Oklahoma, also stand in need ofinvesti-
gation.

43 This was the Treaty of Nequassee, negotiated by Sir Alexander Cuming (Mooney, 1900, p. 35).

44 This was the Treaty of Saluda, negotiated by Gov. James Glen of South Carolina (Corkran, 1962, pp.
69-61).

45 Ame:gwa (‘Big Water’), contraction of ama e:gwa: ‘the Mississippi River.’

48 Gadu:se:gwa (‘Big Mountain[s|’), contraction of gadu:si e:gwa: ‘the Rocky Mountains.’

194. BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 196

the Whites,—deaf to the passionate entreaties of their friends, they
made hurried preparations for their departure.

Although the greater part of the Tribe was very unwilling to have
them leave, yet, finding their efforts to persuade them to remain,
were unsuccessful, they assisted them in making preparations for the
journey: some furnished “pack ponies,’’ while others loaded them
with “Cuh-whe-si, tah,” ‘“Cuh-nuh-tsi,” [*] dried venison and other
things, They were led by the Chief, ‘“‘Yuhwi-oo-skah-si-ti.”’ [**]

For many weeks communications were kept up between the two
divisions, by ‘‘runners,’’ who were sent from either side to enquire of
their welfare, or to take messages.

A company, each member selected for their courage and persever-
ance, were sent to assist the travelers in crossing the ‘Big River’,
After this all intercourse between the two parties was ended, and no
more was heard of the wanderers. In the course of time the run-away
band was forgotten, or, remembered as only an old tale which no one
believes.

A long time afterwards, some adventurous hunters met with a
band of Indians who spoke the Cherokee Language and lived as the
Cherokees did before they had learned any thing of civilized life.

These Indians were found at the Kastern side of the Rocky Moun-
tains, They were supposed to be the lost Band.[*]

After the Wanderers left, the remainder of the Tribe continued
friendly with the Whites, trading with them and learning much that
was useful to them; but alas! they also learned much that was bad,
the vices of civilization, the worst for the Indians being drinking and
gambling, but soon as the evil tendencies of these practices were
known the Chiefs and Headmen made exertions to suppress them.

It is an established principle with the Cherokees, in common with
all Indians, that Air, Water and Land is the free gift of the Creator
to all men, and when Land is traded it is always understood that only
the right to use it is meant.

Soon after the English began to settle in America, the Cherokees
were persuaded, for a compensation, to relinquish the Northern part
of their Domain. By this arrangement, they were forced into more
narrow limits.

The Creeks were their Southern neighbors. Peace between these
two Tribes was continually disturbed by feuds and war. ‘This state of
affairs was caused by a misunderstanding about their Boundary

47 Ga:nvtsi the Cherokee consider to be their national dish. It is a soup made of hominy and crushed
hickory nuts.

48 Yu:wi usgd:sidh(i) (“Person Fierce, He’).

49 Retold by Mooney (1900, pp. 391-392).

Nowy T{* THE WAHNENAUHI MANUSCRIPT—KILPATRICK 195

Each Tribe was accused of encroaching on the hunting grounds of
the other. These disturbances were continued until Cherokee and
Creek were names considered antagonistic almost by nature. As late
as 1813 the two Nations were yet enemies. The Cherokees and
Choctaws assisted the United States, under command of General
Jackson, in the famous Creek War.

The decisive battle was fought at the Horse shoe Bend in the Ten-
nessee River, it was the most terrible battle with the Indians, of which
we have an account, it is said, that the river for several miles ran red
with blood. But it was not until 1821 [*] that a Treaty of Peace was
finally made by the Cherokees and Creeks. it was modified in 1822,
’23, by which the question of “Boundary Line” was decided, and,
“forever hereafter acknowledged by both Nations to be permanent.”’

Members of either Tribe living within the boundaries of the other,
were permitted to become Citizens of that Nation, if they chose to
do so.

About other matters, the most liberal provisions were made.

The obligations of this Treaty have never been broken, and as a
consequence these two Nations are still at peace.

During the time of the Colonization of North America, by the
Whites a number of English and Scotchmen came to the Cherokee
Nation on trading expeditions, and on becoming acquainted with the
people, soon found themselves so much pleased that they persuaded
the Cherokees to adopt them and give them wives.

Most of these men became very much interested in the welfare of
the Indians, and tried to make their home-life more pleasant and
comfortable

An Englishman, named Edward Graves, [*] who had married
“Lah-to-tau, yie,” [*?] sent to England for a spinning wheel, cards and
cotton, and taught his wife to card and spin, he then made a loom,
and taught her how to weave, and make clothing for herself and
children. lLah-to-tau-yie learned the art very easily, for she was
interested in the work, and wished to please her husband by dressing
herself and children neatly. Edward Graves was a Christian and
told his wife and children about God and the Savior, Jesus Christ and
taught them to pray.

Lah-to-tau-yie received this good news of salvation with a glad
heart. she said, she knew about the great Being who made every
thing, but she had never heard of the Savior, She told the Story to
all her neighbors and relatives, and many of them became Christians,

60 This was the Treaty of Indian Spring, January 8, 1821.

51 Mooney (1900, p. 214) states: ‘‘The anonymous writer [Wahnenauhi] may have confounded this early
civilizer with a young Englishman who was employed by Agent Hawkins in 1801 to make wheels and looms
for the Creeks (Hawkins, 1801, in American State Papers: Indian Affairs, I, p. 647).”

52 We cannot translate this name with certainty. It might be w-hl(i)dhado-h (i) (‘ Bearer-of-Seeds-on-Top’).

196 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 196

quite often many of them would meet in her cabin for prayer. Lah-to-
tau-yie is supposed to be the first Cherokee converted to Christ.
Her children all became Christians, and many of her decendants are
now living, and honor the profession by consistent living.

The first Treaty with the United States was made in 1785, [5] by
which land was again given up and Boundary lines confirmed. Owing
to the encroachments of white settlers, and the miserable wars with
the Carolinas, in 1791, [*] and ’98 [5] still more land was ceded away.

By this time many of the people had become disgusted and dis-
satisfied with so much “Treating for Land” and their thoughts,
instinctivly, turning west, they soon decided, in that direction to
seek for themselves a future home.

Adventurous persons then started out on prospecting tours, going
as far as the Arkansas River.

The first Company who returned gave wonderful accounts of the
Good Country at the ‘far West,” they had found plenty of water,
good timber, rich soil for farming, and game in abundance: immense
herds of Buffalo, deer and antelopes, flocks of wild turkeys, geese and
ducks, and the waters teeming with fish of all kinds. <A veritable
paradise, go they must.

George Lowrey was the son of Charles Lowrey, a Scotch trader,
who had married a cherokee woman named Tah-nie, [**] and had
settled in the Cherokee Nation. George was the oldest of several
children, and was born about the year 1770 at Tah-skeegee a place on
the bank of the Tennessee River, [5]

He grew up as most other Indian lads of his time, but was very
observant and selfreliant; when he was ten or twelve years old he had
the misfortune to lose his father; he was killed and robbed while
crossing the Mountains in Tennessee, with pack-mules.

George Guess, or “‘Se-quoh-yah,” as he was usually called, and
John Leach, his cousins, and about the same age as himself, were his
constant companions, and the Trio grew up together intimate friends.

Once, when about seventeen years old, while out on a hunting
expedition, with several others of the Tribe, they met with a Company
of white hunters; this accidental meeting proved to be quite an im-
portant, as well as a very pleasing incident to the Indians, as it was the
means of changing the life-purpose of at least two of them.

53 The Treaty of Hopewell, November 28, 1785.

54 The Treaty of Holston, July 2, 1791.

55 The Treaty of Tellico, October 2, 1798.

56 Da:ni, a feminine name that we cannot translate. It is encountered in old manuscripts, and it is borne
by living individuals.

87 These statements are somewhat at variance with Starr (1921, pp. 366-367), whose genealogical table
shows that the name of MajorLowery’s father was also George, not Charles, and that Major Lowrey was the
second son, not the first. According to Starr, the name of Major Lowrey’s mother was Nannie, but such
may well have been the English form of Da:ni.

foray, PAP THE WAHNENAUHI MANUSCRIPT—KILPATRICK 197

Lowrey was the only one of his party who spoke the English Lan-
guage and this he did very imperfectly.

One of the white men who gave his name as “Dickey,” by his
affability, quite won the Indians from their natural reserve and diffi-
dence, and had a very interesting conversation with Lowrey, the leader
of his party.

The whites and Indians camped near each other, ate and smoked
together, and spent several hours in pleasant intercourse.

Dickey persuaded them to tell him many curious incidents relating
to Indian habits and customs, while he gave them some ideas of
civilized life.

He had with him a small book which he showed and explained to
them; Lowrey acting as Interpreter for both parties—the Indians were
filled with astonishment at the new and interesting things they had
learned; and soon after separating with the white hunters they decided
to return home. For the first time in their lives, Lowrey and Sequo-
yah felt an intense and longing desire for improvement; they had had a
glimpse of a better way of life, and they determined to reach it.

From this time their careless, wild life lost all attractions for them;
they were often taunted and ridiculed for their change of deportment;
their friends tried to cheer and enliven them by persuading them to
attend the ball-plays and dances, by making them many valuable
presents, and in other ways showing kindness to them.

Out of regard to their friends and kindred, they still attended the
gatherings of the people, as, Green Corn Dances, Foot-races, and
Ball-plays they were dissatisfied, inattentive and listless. They
both embraced every opportunity of learning the ‘‘white man’s ways.”

Indeed many of their relatives and other friends were persuaded by
them and followed their example, they began to build better houses,
make larger fields and gather around them cattle, horses and hogs.

Many years passed bringing changes to all, and much inprovement
to the Cherokees.

Sequoyah often wandered away alone avoiding every one, at such
times he was absent for hours, no one knew where. One day, a hunter
on his way home, in passing Sequoyah’s cabin, and seeing his wife at
the door, called to her and said that he had seen Sequoyah in the woods,
seated on the ground, playing like a child with pieces of wood that he
had chopped from a tree. that he spoke to him but could not attract
his attention, he was so intent at his play. After this he was often
seen in this way; always making odd little marks, sometimes on
rocks, using paint rocks as pencils, and sometimes, with his knife
cutting them on wood.

After trying for a long time to divert his attention from these
“Worse than childish ways” his wife and other friends left him alone to

198 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLy. 196

do as he pleased. From being very indignant, they became very
much alarmed about him; they knew not what to think.

Some said, he was crazy, but that was impossible, for who ever
heard of a crazy Indian?

They then decided that he was in communication with the Spirits,
and for this reason many of his friends neglected him and refused to
have any thing to do with him. [**] He endured with seeming in-
difference the neglect of friends, and the annoying sarcasm of
opponents.

In all this time Sequoyah had been industrious and prudent, had
gathered some property around him, and neglected nothing that
would bring comfort to his family, endearing himself to them by kind
attention to their simple wants; and by his proverbial hospitality
and conciliating manners, enlarging the circle of his friends. Sequo-
yah did not speak the English language, and understood only a few
words, of which he could make but little use; though he had seen but
few books, he had learned something about them, and how distant
friends could communicate with each other by writing. He was
convinced that if a written language was beneficial to one people,
it would be equally so to another so he determined to make this for
his people, the Cherokees. Once the resolution formed it was never
given up.

Many years Sequoyah dreamed, studied and worked until success
crowned his efforts: and he presented to his people a methodically
arranged alphabetical language, containing the eighty six sylables of
which the Cherokee language is composed. He first taught his
Alphabet to his little daughter, a girl of about ten years old, after-
wards he persuaded a few of his friends to learn it

However, it was not received with favor by the people generally,
until after many experiments, it was proved beyond a doubt that
Sequoyah had indeed devised a most wonderful invention, He sent
a letter to some friends, who had removed to the Arkansas Territory,
and on receiving a reply, all doubts were forever banished.

Nearly every member of the Tribe became interested in the new
movement, and learned [to learn] the letters and to read and write.

Sequoyah now became a most popular man, and was respected,
as almost super-human; for he was regarded as a great benefactor
of his Nation.

Valuable presents were given to him by the Chiefs and men of
influence, and a sum of money, out of the National Treasury was paid
to him, in consideration of his inestimable service. [*]

"88 The basis for the antagonism toward Sequoyah’s experiments was the fear that he was practicing sorcery.
59 The General Council of the Cherokee Nation presented a medal to Sequoyah in 1825. The United

States Government promised him $500.00 in the Treaty of 1828 with the Western Cherokees. He never
received the full amount (Foreman, G., 1938, pp. 8, 16-17).

foamy F4" THE WAHNENAUHI MANUSCRIPT—KILPATRICK 199

Afterward, a pension, to be paid out of the Public Treasury, was
settled on him for life, to be continued to his wife after his death. |]

George Lowrey spent his time very differently from Sequoyah,
being generally engaged in more active Public Life.

However, they continued to be firm friends, and Lowrey was one
of the first to recognize the great advantages which would come to
his people by the use of the native Alphabet, and used his influence
to have them learn it, speaking unthusiastically of it on all occasions.

He embraced every opportunity of learning the Customs of Civiliza-
tion.

Being a very fluent speaker, he often talked to his people about
these things; urging them to forsake their careless, disorderly life,
and try to improve their condition, by learning from and imitating
the whites who had settled near them, many of whom were wealthy
and refined people, to whom Lowrey was a steadfast friend. it was
his earnest endeavor continually to improve his own mind, and his
outward circumstance, always, by precept and example, trying to
induce others to do the same.

It was customary with the Cherokees to name a person for, either
some fancied resemblance, for something said or done, or some
trait of Character: On account of Lowrey’s peculiar Characteristics,
his friends sometimes called him ‘“‘Ah-gee-hli,” which words means
“Rising” or “Aspiring.” [*] and the name seemed so appropriately
chosen, that from this time, in Cherokee, he was spoken of as ‘‘Dtsah-
tsi Ah-gee-hli,” “Dtsah-tsi,’”? meaning George. |]

In early manhood, George Lowrey distinguished himself by im-
portant services rendered, both to his own people and to the United
States.

He was employed, at one time, by General Washington, to convey
to the French in Canada, a secret message of great importance. [*]

Most of the way lay through an unbroken Wilderness, inhabited
only by hostile Tribes.

As the greatest caution and skill were necessary; to ensure the
success of the undertaking, he made the journey on foot. accom-
panied only by Billy, a colored slave; one other Indian began the
journey with him, but on account of the hard-ships to be encountered,
his resolution failed, and he returned.

6 Reliable information upon Sequoyah is, considering his historical importance, astonishingly meager,
and some of these sidelights are of value. There exists among the John Howard Payne Papers in the
Thomas Gilcrease Institute of American History and Art, Tulsa, Okla., a one-page fragment ofa manuscript
in syllabary on Sequoyah by Major Lowrey.

61 Mooney (1900, p. 507) suggests that Major Lowrey’s name may be a contraction of the Cherokee for
“Rising-fawn,’’ and takes issue with ‘‘Dog,’’ another interpretation. In modern Cherokee, at least, the
word agi:hli means ‘pain’ or ‘anguish’; gi:hli means ‘dog.’

62 Tsa:t3(i) is the universally accepted Cherokee form of George.

68 We can discover no documentation for this.

200 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 196

The success gained by means of this perilous journey, won for
Lowrey, Washington’s warmest approval and esteem; and the greatest
confidence and regard of his people.

In 1791, George Lowrey was chosen one of a Delegation sent to
Washington City, to solicit payment of the Annuity which had
been promised in the Treaty of 1785, and had not been paid. This
expidition met with a favorable issue, and the payment was made
in the following year.

When about twenty years old, George Lowrey was married to
Lucy Benge, a Cherokee girl, also of Scottish descent, she, too, owned
quite a considerable amount of property, as, slaves, horses, cattle &.
It was customary, in those times, for a young Indian man, con-
templating marriage, first to prepare a dwelling place, making it
as comfortable as he knew how; then the consent of the girl must
be obtained, as also that of her mother, after which, at a time pre-
viously agreed upon, the girl accompanied him to his home and
became his wife.

Thus it was that Mr. and Mrs. Lowrey began their wedded life.

They were truly devoted to each other, and up to old age treated
each other with the greatest respect and kindness Their children,
in after years, in speaking of their parents, were heard to remark,
“Never a hard word passed between them, and they never had a
misunderstanding.

Mrs. Lowrey was very industrious, and kept every thing around
her in beautiful order.

She also learned to spin and weave, and took great delight in
making clothing for her family, in making quilts, in embroidery
and other fancy work.

She was very skilful in making the beaded belts, so highly prized
by Cherokee braves and warriors.

She and “Wuttie,” [*] the wife of John Lowrey, George’s younger
brother, so improved and embelished these belts, that they generally
sold for twenty five dollars apiece.

In sickness, being unwilling to trust the members of her family to
native doctors and conjurers, Mrs. Lowrey attained great skill in the
use of medicinal roots and herbs, especially in cases of the bite or
sting of reptiles or poisonous insects.

The years brought increasing prosperity to Mr. Lowrey, and he
became the owner of a large number of slaves, over whom, as a reward
for his faithful services, Billy was advanced to the position of overseer,

which station he occupied as long as he lived.
64IT have encountered this name several times among those of Wahenauhi’s social class. We

suggest that originally it may have been Awo-di, a fairly common feminine name probably derived from
wo:di (‘paint’).

Nom TY) THE WAHNENAUHI MANUSCRIPT—KILPATRICK 201

One instance only of Billy failing the confidence reposed in him is
known.

Mr. Lowrey had a large piece of ground cleared, broken up and
planted with watermelons,|*] he had it fenced with picketts, a strong
gate made, fastened with a lock with two keys, one of which he gave
to Billy, reserving the other himself.

When the melons began to ripen, one morning, Mr. Lowrey went in
to get a melon that he had selected the evening before; to his great
surprise it was gone, however he said nothing about it: but when the
same thing happened again, and yet another time he decided that it
was time for him to investigate. Accordingly, when evening came, he
concealed himself just outside the gate and waited.

Pretty soon Billy came to the gate and opening it walked in, carefully
closing and locking it. he soon came out with a large melon under
his arm.

His master, leaving his place of concealment, met him, saying,
“Ah! Billy, I find it no harm watch honest man!’ To cover his
confusion, Billy handed the melon to his master trying to pretend
that he had gathered it for him: it was haughtily refused, with the
words, ‘no, I got key, I able get my own melon.”’ nothing more was
said of the affair, and no more melons mysteriously disappeared. [*]

Mr. and Mrs. Lowrey were the parents of six children, three sons
and three daughters,[] all of whom grew up, and worthily filled
respectable places in the Nation, Mr. Lowrey was very anxious that
their children should be educated in the English Language, for this
purpose a white man was employed to teach them.

That the children might make more rapid progress, the teacher
was required to live with the family while teaching. a small cabin
was builded in a pleasant locality near the dwelling house, and fitted
up for a school house. Mr. Lowrey paid the teacher a liberal salary,
expecting in return the best work. He invited some of his neighbors
to send their children to his school, which privilege they gladly
accepted. After trying three or four men, at different times, and not
being pleased with their manner of educating, he gave up this plan,
and sent the older children to a distinguished school near Nashville,
Tenn.[*]

About the year 1803, Mr. and Mrs. Gambold, Moravian Mission-
aries, came to the Cherokees, who received them joyfully.

65 Hven among themselves the Cherokees’ predilection for watermelons is proverbial.

66 This vignette is one of the few authentic glimpses available to us of the relationship of the Cherokee
planter class to its slaves.

$7 Starr (1921, p. 367) states that there were seven children: James, Susan, George, Lydia, Rachel, John,
and Anderson Pierce. It would appear that John never married; perhaps he died in childhood.

68 We cannot identify this school.

202 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLu. 196

Arrangements were immediately made by the Chiefs and Headmen
to select a suitable locality for a Mission Station. A school was soon
put into operation, [®] and Hicks, Ross, Lowrey ['°] and many other
influential men immediately availed themselves of the privilege of
sending their children to a Christian School. In 1804, Presbyterian
Missionaries [7!] were sent to the Cherokee Nation, and in a short
time several Mission Stations were located in different parts of the
Nation, Schools were established and Churches organized. But many
of the people still adhered to the old ways, would have nothing to do
with the Missionaries, and ignored all their efforts made for educating
and civilizing the Indians.

At their dances and ball-plays, whiskey was brought in and freely
used; very often the gatherings were broken up by drunken quarrels,
and sometimes by brutal murder.

However, the most influential persons, who were followed by the
greater part of the Nation, anxious to secure educational advantages
for their children, made great exertions to assist the Missionaries in
building houses, and providing things necessary for their comfort
while working among them.

In 1817 the Station at Brainerd [”] was begun and the school put
into successful operation. And in a few years several other Mission
Stations were established, and the schools well attended and pros-
perous. The Baptist ["] and Methodist [“] also had Mission Stations
among the Cherokees. As a Nation, they were now prepared to
receive the Gospel, brought to them by the Missionaries.

Many were converted, among others, Hicks, [’] who was then
Principal Chief, Lowrey and his wife, Rising-fawn, Sleeping-Rabit,
Mr. John Brown, the father of Catherine and David ["*] of whom so
much was written at the time by the Missionaries, and a great many
more. The Missionaries were greatly loved by the Cherokees, who
had by this time received such an impetus towards Christianity and
Civilization that it was impossible for them to return to barbarism.

69 Springplace Mission was dedicated on July 13, 1801 (Schwarze, 1928, p. 65). Rev. John Gambold
(1760-1827) and his wife Anna Rosina (1762-1821) came to Springplace in October 1805 (Starr, 1921, pp. 82-83).

7” Charles Hicks (1767-1827), Assistant Principal Chief (1817-27), Principal Chief for 13 days prior to his
death; John Ross (1790-1866), Principal Chief (1827-66).

71 The Presbyterian missionary Rev. Gideon Blackburn began work on the Hiwassee River in 1803
(Schwarze, 1923, p. 79).

72 Brainerd Mission was established on Chickamauga Creek in 1817 (Starr, 1921, p. 248).

73 The Valley Town Baptist Mission was established by Rev. Humphrey Posey in 1820 (ibid.).

7 Methodist work among the Cherokee began with the evangelical efforts of Rev. Richard Neely in 1822
(ibid., p. 259).

75 Hicks was converted to Christianity in 1812, prior to his incumbency either as Assistant Principal
Chief or Principal Chief (Schwarze, 1923, pp. 180-181).

76 As may be seen in several issues of the ‘‘Cherokee Phoenix,” Rising Fawn was an officeholder from
Hickory Log District. Sleeping-Rabbit and John Brown were tribal leaders associated with Wills Valley in
Alabama (Walker, 1931, pp. 175, 311). David Brown has been discussed. His sister, the saintly Catherine
(1800?-22) was, so to speak, the Cherokee Kateri Tekakwitha. Her moving story is told by Rufus Ander-
son (1825).

oa FY) THE WAHNENAUHI MANUSCRIPT—KILPATRICK 203

Some years before all this, the Chiefs, Headmen and Warriors,
had met together in Council and agreed, for the general good of the
Nation, to make a more united Form of Government; instead of each
Clan working for its own, they chose one Principal Chief, an Assistant
and a Council, consisting, at first of thirteen members, upon whom
devolved all the business of the Nation, as making laws, appointing
officers, &c. They immediately organized Companies, called Regu-
lators, or, Lighthorse whose duty it was to suppress theft and robbery,
and to protect the peace. This Legislative Body made laws, as they
saw needful, for the protection and improvement of the Nation. As
early as 1808, prohibitory laws were made to prevent the introduction
of intoxicants into the Nation, for, when the Annuities were to be
paid, vicious whites were ready with Whiskey to give, or, sell to the
Indians that they might obtain possession of their money; this nui-
sance became so prevalent as to make it an absolute necessity to the
Nation to act in its own defence. Although the law could not wholly
eradicate the evil, it proved a wholesome check to the flood of intem-
perance and, with amendments, has continued in force in the Cherokee
Nation to this time. Black Fox was Principal Chief at that time.

About the same date, laws against poligamy were enacted.

The first Public use made of Sequoyah’s Alphabet was to print the
Gospel of Mathew, and a Collection of Hymns in the Cherokee Lan-
guage.[”|—In 1828 Public Schools were established by the Council,
to be supported by the National Government.

Educational exercises conducted in both Cherokee and Hnglish
Languages.

Two years previously measures were taken by the National Council
to have published at the National expense, a News Paper, devoted to
the Interest of the Indian People.

This paper, called ‘“‘The Cherokee Phenix,” printed in both lan-
guages, continued to be published until the removal of the Tribe, West
of the Mississippi.|"*] In History, little is said of this event, so laden
with loss and suffering to the Cherokee Indians.

It is only what has been repeated many times since, in the case of
other Indian Tribes.

If the Cherokees could have been united and acted under one
Leader, they might have escaped much of the trouble and loss by
which they were overtaken. The dissatisfaction, already mentioned
as existing in the Nation, on account of selling land to the aggressive

7 The Cherokee hymnal, first issued at New Echota in 1829, is still in use after having gone through many
editions. It is largely the work of the brilliant fullblood Cherokee scholar, Elias Boudinot (1802-39), and
Rey. Samuel Worcester.

78 The Cherokee Phoenix was founded in 1828; it was suppressed by Georgia militia in 1834. Elias Boudi-
not was its first editor. Although bilingual, it was in one sense the first newspaper in an American Indian
language.

204 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Buu. 196

whites continued, and no wonder, for no less than sixteen treaties
were made with the United States, each one requiring land to be given
up, and likewise, each one promising to protect the Cherokees in
their homes.

Companies of Emigrants were very frequently seen, on their way
to the “Far West.’”’ Reluctant, indeed, they were to leave their
loved homes, and the “‘graves of their Dead.” Love of peace urged
them on. And they believed that only by seeking a new Country,
they could build up permanent homes for their children. Sequoyah,
whose English name was George Guess, went with that division of
his people who emigrated prior to the ‘“Treaty of 1834-35.” [] and
continued to be one of their leading men. Aaron Price [*] for quite
a number of years, was Principal Chief of the ‘“‘Western Cherokees,”’
who after the Union were called, ‘Old Settlers.” After Price, John
Jolly was chosen Principal Chief and filled the office acceptably to his
people. Black Coat and Col. Walter Webber were elected Second
and Third Chiefs; the three Chiefs were invested with equal authority
and received the same Salary,—one hundred dollars each.

The Western Cherokees manifested the same zeal in improvement,
in civilization, and educational advantages as before their emigration.
The difference of climate was a severe tax on their health, and many of
them died.[*"]

Besides this, they were obliged to be always on their guard, on
account of the Osages, who were continually committing depredations,
as driving away their horses and cattle, &c.

All this led to long and troublesome wars with the Osages. The
difficulty was eventually settled by a Treaty with the United States,
and the lines of boundary between the two Nations settled decided.|*]
In a few years the Western Settlers began to be very prosperous; and
were very much pleased with their change. During all this time, the
majority of the Tribe continued in their homes, looking to their Chiefs
for advice and protection.

The Chiefs and Headmen relied on the good faith of the Government
of the United States, who had in the Treaty gauranteed to them their
Country for ever, using the expression, ‘‘As long as grass grows, and
water runs.”

In no case had the Cherokees signed away their inheritance.

72 Treaty of New Echota, December 29, 1835.

80 Tahlonteesgee immediately preceded John Jolly. This personal name and also designation for the Old
Settler capital near what is now Vian, in Sequoyah County, Okla., is possibly derived from a?dhalv?di:sgi
(‘One-W ho-Makes-a-Notch-in-a-Tree’).

81 The reports of missionaries attest to the high incidence of malaria.

83 It is not clear which treaty is in reference here—the Treaty of St. Louis, June 3, 1825, or the Treaty of
Fort Gibson, January 11, 1839.

fou] ) THE WAHNENAUHI MANUSCRIPT—KILPATRICK 205

The declarations of the Government, and of the Indian Agents, had
been always directed to one point,—that was, to satisfy the Cherokees
that the Government would deal justly and fairly with the Indians,
and would perform all its engagements to secure to them the perma-
nent possession of their Country. They had been constantly urged
to become farmers, to educated their children, and to form a regular
Government for themselves. and all this they had done.—In 1826
this opinion was written by a Missionary, a faithful friend of the
Cherokees,—

“Tt is now too late to talk of the impracticability of Indian civiliza-
tion,

Strangers who pass through the Nation now, and who had passed
through it several years ago, are often heard to express their astonish-
ment at the change which has taken place.”—

“The mass of the people in their dress, houses, furniture, agricul-
tural implements, manner of cultivating the soil, raising stock, pro-
viding for their families and in their estimate of the value of an educa-
tion, would not suffer by a comparison with the whites in the neigh-
boring settlements.’’[*]

The mass of the people had practically embraced Christianity.

Intemperance had been checked—some, notoriously intemperate,
had been reformed.

Owing partly to political disturbances, the encouraging aspect of
the Nation became clouded with confusion and depression. The
Public men manifested much firmness and dignity of character, and
remained steadfast friends to the moral and intellectual elevation of
their people; and advised them to remain at home, quietly attending
to their usual business of farming and taking care of their stock.

They firmly believed that the United States would fulfil its treaty
obligations, and protect them in their homes.

Since 1819 the Cherokees had refused to sell any more land.[*]

Gold had been found in some parts of the Nation, and this fact, by
exciting the cupidity of the Whites, had brought to a crisis the circum-
stances which resulted in the removal.[°*]

In 1827, Georgia assumed an arrogant attitude towards the Chero-
kees, declaring that they had no title to the land, only that of occu-
pancy, determinable at the pleasure of Georgia, that she had a perfect
title by right of discovery, to all the land within her chartered limits,
that the United States were bound to extinguish the Indian title.

83 We cannot identify this quotation, doubtless from some missionary journal.

84 The cession of 1819 was agreed to by the Treaty of Washington on February 27, 1819.

85 Starkey (1946, pp. 110-111) states that gold was first discovered by a child near Dalonega in 1815 and
rediscovered in 1828 or 1829. By 1830, 4,000 Whites had intruded into the goldfields.

747-014—66——14

206 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Buy. 196

In 1828 Georgia extended her laws over the Cherokees.[*] Their
Government was hindered in its operations, their laws counteracted,
and some of their citizens imprisoned, the missionaries were forbidden
to preach to them, and on their non-compliance, were shamefully
treated, and imprisoned in the penitentiary. The Cherokees appealed
for protection, to the President of the United States, who informed
them that he had no constitutional power to protect them.[%"]

They then petitioned Congress,[*] and while their Petition was
pending, a Bill was introduced into Congress for the purpose of
enabling them to remove west of the Mississippi; the Bill for the re-
moval was passed, and preparations were immediately begun to have
it enforced.

To give some show of law to this deed of violence, a Sham Treaty
was made with a few irresponsible Cherokees, who, for love of money,
accepted a bribe, and immediately left for the Western Country.[™]

Meanwhile, many acts of lawlessness were perpetrated on the
Cherokees, horses and cattle were driven away, hogs were taken with-
out the consent of the owners, murders were committed, and the
friends of the slain were powerless to bring the offenders to justice,

Even the graves of the dead were not safe, but were opened in order
to obtain the treasures supposed to be buried with them.

The Headmen and Chiefs called the people together for the purpose
of deciding what course to pursue as the best means of protection.

Many eloquent speeches were made, but nothing was decided; A
few spoke of resistance, that was evidently so unavailing,—it would
only be self-destruction; and to the helpless wives and innocent
children, more suffering and distress.

This was a critical time for the Cherokee Nation, its very existence
was threatened, and all was to be determined by the Chiefs now in
Council. How this great responsibility pressed upon them! perish
orremove! it might be,—remove and perish! along journey through
the Wilderness,—could the little ones endure? and how about the
sick? the old people and infirm, could they possibly endure the long
tedious journey; Should they leave?

This had been the home of their Ancestors from time out of mind.

Every thing they held dear on the earth was here, must they leave?

86 Wahnenauhi is probably in reference here to the act, passed by the Georgia legislature on December 19,
1829, extending State law over a large portion of the Cherokee Nation (Foreman, G., 1932, p. 229).

8? This is seemingly in reference to the visit of the delegation, headed by Principal Chief John Ross, to
Washington, January-May, 1833 (ibid., p. 247).

88 ‘]femorial and Protest of the Cherokee Nation to Congress, June 21, 1836.’

8 The Treaty of New Echota, December 29, 1835. The United States commissioner, Rev. J. F. Schmer-
horn (who still lives in Cherokee folklore as ‘‘ Devil’shorn’’), himself reported that only 300-500 Cherokees
out of a total population of over 17,000 attended the conference for the making of this treaty (Foreman, G.,
1932, p. 269)

Nou} |) THE WAHNENAUHI MANUSCRIPT—KILPATRICK 207

The graves of their kindred forsaken by them would be desecrated
by the hand of the White Man! The very air seemed filled with an
under-current of inexpressible sadness and regret.

They could almost hear the reproaches and wailings of the dear
dead they were leaving.

How must these Chiefs decide for their people? No wonder it
seemed that Despair in its thickest blackness had settled down and
enfolded in gloom this assemblage of brave and true-hearted Patriots.

But no time could they spend in regrets and forboding, although
their own hearts were torn with grief, throwing aside their private
troubles, they set themselves to the task of preparing the people for
the inevitable journey. A Delegation was appointed and authorized
to make arrangements with Major General Scott for Supplies required
for the Removal.

For convenience in protecting, providing for and distributing to,
so large a Body of people, they were divided into Companies, or,
Detachments, as they were called, each provided with a Captain,
whose duties were to attend to the necessities of all in his particular
Detachment.

Some of the Cherokees, remained in their homes, and determined
not to leave.

For these soldiers were sent, by Gorgia, and they were gathered
up and driven, at the point of the bayonet, into camp with the others.
they were not allowed to take any of their household stuff, but were
compelled to leave as they were, with only the clothes which they had
on. One old, very old man, asked the soldiers to allow him time to
pray once more, with his family in the dear old home, before he left it
forever. The answer was, with a brutal oath, ‘No! no time for
prayers. Go!’ at the same time giving him a rude push towards the
door.[*]

In many instances, the families of settlers were at hand, and as
the Indians were evicted, the whites entered, taking full possession of
every thing left.

It is useless to attempt to describe the long, wearisome passage of
these exiled Indians.

The journey had but just begun when sickness attacked them.

Many of the old people, already enfeebled by age, were unable to
endure the fatigue and hardships of the way, and sank unresistingly.

Every camping place was strewn with the graves of the dead.

Not one family was exempted from the tax of the Death-Angel.
It was estimated, on reaching their destination, that fully two-thirds

90 Wahnenauhi may have witnessed this scene.

208 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLy. 196

of the number that began the journey fell by the way. Many more
died after their arrival. ["]

As the emigrants arrived too late in the Season for planting, an
Appropriation was made for their subsistance during that year.

Some of the Missionaries, true and beloved friends of the Cherokees,
went with them and shared with them the trials and hardships by the
way; others followed them very soon.

Forever revered be their memory for that Act of Sympathetic
Mercy!

At the time of the Removal, Mr. John Ross was Principal Chief,
and Maj. George Lowrey, Assistant Principal Chief.

Both had occupied these Stations for several years, having been
repeatedly elected by the People.

As soon as practicable after the arrival of the Emigrants a Conven-
tion of all the people was held in order to form a union between the
two Divisions. [*]

George Lowrey was chosen President of the Eastern Cherokees,
and Sequoyah, George Guess President of the Western.

By an Act of this Assembly, the two parties agreed to form them-
selves into one Body. [*]

A system of Government was matured, adapted to their changed
condition, providing equally for the protection of all in the enjoyment
of their rights. An Instrument was modeled, considered and ap-
proved by the respective Chiefs; John Ross, Principal Chief of the
Eastern Cherokees; and John Looney, Acting Principal Chief of the
Western Cherokees, and signed by a great number of Old Settlers and
Late Emigrants. The long journey from the Old Home to the New
had caused much suffering and Loss.

The people, however, were not wholly disheartened ;—Friends and
kindred welcomed and sympathized with them, the Missionaries were
still with them, their leading men were earnestly interested in their
welfare and advancement. and in a few years Prosperity again smiled
upon them. However, success did not come to them without great
effort on their part.

Besides the usual difficulties, incident to the Settlers of a new
Country, the Cherokees were harrassed by internal strife; Party feeling
ran high. Several men, accused of being implicated in the loss of
their old home, were killed at the instigation of a Secret Organization,
formed by a few who felt themselves called to avenge the wrongs of
their people.[“] Anarchy almost prevailed.

21 Approximately 4,000 Cherokees perished in the course of the removal (Foreman, G., 1932, p. 312).

#2 The Council of June 3, 1839, at Takatoga.

93 There were two Acts of Union—July 22, 1839, and June 26, 1840.

%4 This refers to the June 22, 1839, assassination of Elias Boudinot, Major Ridge, and John Ridge, leaders
of the faction that had advocated removal.

Ow} |) THE WAHNENAUHI MANUSCRIPT—KILPATRICK 209

Had it not been that the Almighty had designs of mercy for the
People, and in His Providence placed at the Head of Government wise
and good men, the Nation would then undoubtedly have been
destroyed.

A Constitution for the Government of the Cherokee Nation was
framed, and established subject to amendments by the National
Council. This Constitution stands an advantageous comparison with
that of the United States. [%]

In 1828, the proceeds of a Sale of Land was vested in a permanent
School Fund; and the interest divided between the two Branches of
the Cherokee Family.

After the Reunion, as payment was made for the Lands east of the
Mississippi, a part of the money was added to the original School
Fund; more Public Schools were established, and also two High Schools
were located near Tahlequah, the Capital of the Nation. [°']

Provisions were made for an Orphan Asylum, which, later on was
firmly established, and has since continued in a prosperous condition.
Besides these schools, an Asylum for the Blind and other unfortunates
was founded, and is maintained by a National Fund appropriated
to that purpose.

The barbarous practice of punishment by Public Whipping has
been long ago abolished, and confinement in Prison substituted.

In closing these imperfect sketches, the reader will be interested
to know of the last days of the two men of whom I have made most
prominent mention.

On account of Sequoyah’s declining health, he was advised to
travel.

He had thought much of the Legend of the Rockey Mountain
Cherokees, and the hope of satisfying his curiosity with regard to this
myth made him anxious to take a westward trip; he was also very
desirous of seeing and exploring the western outlet belonging to the
Cherokees. These inducements led to his decision.

On the early spring of 1842, he, with about twelve attendants, two
of whom were his sons, set out on the journey.

Not caring to be needlessly burdened the Company carried with
them only a small amount of provision, expecting to supply their
immediate wants by killing the wild game with which they supposed
the Country toabound. for this purpose they were provided with a
sufficient stock of ammunition;

% This is the Constitution of September 6, 1839.

% The two seminaries were established by an act of the National Council on November 12, 1847 (Starr,
1921, p. 142). As early as November 16, 1841, the National Council created the position of Superintendent
of Education and established 11 public schools. Im 1845 there were 18 public schools; in 1867 there were 32;
by 1877 there were 75; there were over 120 at the time of the dissolution of the Cherokee Nation (ibid., pp.
226-229).

210 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 196

By traveling slowly, examining the nature and appearance of the
Country as they passed along, stopping to camp or hunt whenever it
suited Sequoyah to do so, the time passed pleasantly and swiftly.
Sequoyah’s strength returned, and his health improved so rapidly
that strong hopes were entertained of his permanent recovery.

His pet idea of visiting the Rockey Mountains seemed about to
be fulfilled, and all rejoiced in the apparrent success of their journey.

Almost suddenly, the features of the Country changed, water
became scarce, and what there was, very bad. Game was hard to
find, and the Company was obliged often to make forced marches
in order to obtain water and shelter, while on account of having no
food, some of the men must continually hunt the game which seemed
to have eluded them. Sequoyah, supposing this arid land to be only
a narrow strip that could be crossed in a very short time, persuaded
his companions to persevere in their course, still hoping to gain his
wish of reaching the Rockies.

Not strong enough to endure the fatigue and privations to which
he was subjected, Sequoyah’s new-found health gave way, and he
gave orders to turn and retrace their steps; his strength now failed
so rapidly that he was unable to travel, he gave up all hope of recovery,
but wished to get home before he died. he became so reduced, they
could make only short distances with him, often they were obliged
to stop in very unfavorable situations.

In all his journey, he had busied himself with writing descriptions
of the country through which they passed; this he continued to do,
at intervals, as his strength allowed.

Coming to a Cave, Sequoyah thought he might gain strength by
resting here for a few days; they remained at this place perhaps a
week, the men going every day to hunt, always leaving one of their
number to take care of him.

One morning he sent them all off. On their return in the evening,
he was gone, but had left a skin hanging at the entrance of the Cave.

On this he had written directions for them to follow him to a certain
place, indicated in the directions.

They immediately set out but failed to find him until the next
evening, they found him dead, the appearance of the body showed
that he had been dead for several hours.

The time being the heat of summer, it was impossible to take him
home;

Carrying the body far back into the Cave, and placing his writing
with him, they wrapped it in skins as securely as they could.

They marked the place so that it would without difficulty be
found, and then set out on their return.

Ot} .)~©) THE WAHNENAUHI MANUSCRIPT—KILPATRICK 21]

Immediately on their arrival, preparations were made and a Com-
pany organized and sent with the men to convey the remains home.
They did not find even the place where they had left him. Thus
Sequoyah, the Indian who most deserves the respect and gratitude
of his people, sleeps in his last resting-place with no Monument to
mark the spot.

Every true-hearted Cherokee will ever hold his Memory dear,
and will speak with pride of their gifted Brother.

All men, whatever their Nationality, whether friend or foe to the
Indian, will acknowledge the wonderful genius of Sequoyah, he who
gave to his people their written Language.[*’]

George Lowrey continued to be a ruling spirit among his people—
their trusted Friend and Adviser. He rejoiced with his people in the
peace and security which assured prosperity to them; and in the
steady progress they had made toward Civilization.

His own individual peace was soon to be disturbed by a great
SOIrow.

He was called home from the National Council by the sickness of
his wife, whose death occured in October the 20th 1846.

Five years later Lowrey was declared too old to perform the duties
of a Chief, and a younger man was placed in the office so long and
ably filled by him.

Old, very old he was—his formerly erect frame bowed with the
weight of years, yet he possessed all his native energy of mind. De-
clining to retire from Active Service, he was assigned an office in the
Executive Committee; [*] a position of high trust.

Death found him at his post, faithfully discharging the duties of
his office, He was compelled, by his own sickness, to leave the
Council.

Six years after his wife’s death:—Oct. 20th 1852, George Lowrey
entered into that ‘‘Rest” prepared for the people of God.

His remains were followed to their last resting place, in the Ceme-
tary at Tahlequah, by a multitude.

Besides his immediate relatives and friends, there marched in the
long procession, all the Members of the National Council, headed by
the Chiefs and the two remaining members of the Executive Com-

9 There is much in Cherokee oral tradition and not a little in untranslated manuscripts that, were it
available to scholarship, would surely enrich our knowledge of Sequoyah. It is indeed strange that al-
though Sequoyah methodically kept journals, as Wahnenauhi and Grant Foreman (1938, p. 37) inform
us, none of them have come tolight. Incidentally, the name of this distinguished Cherokee, all etymological
conjecture to the contrary, is apparently not of Cherokee origin (see Kilpatrick, 1962, p. 41).

%3 In the government of the Cherokee Nation, the Executive Committee corresponded somewhat to the
Cabinet of the President of the United States.

212 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 196

mittee, the Students from both Seminaries, Free Masons, Sons of
Temperance and many other persons, [*']
All appeared to realize that ‘‘A Great man had fallen!’
As a fitting close to this Sketch, I will give a quotation from the
Monument which marks his grave.
“HKrected
by order of the
National Council.”
“He filled the duties of every office well,
An Honest Man—
A Spotless Patriot—
A Devoted Christian.”

LITERATURE CITED

ApaIR, JAMES.

1930. Adair’s history of the American Indians. S.C. Williams,ed. Johnson
City, Tenn.

ANDERSON, RvuFUs.

1825. Memoir of Catherine Brown, a Christian Indian of the Cherokee
Nation. Boston, Mass.

ANONYMOUS.

. Some history of Freemasonry in Indian Territory before the War
Between the States and the organization of the Grand Lodge.
MS. (n.d.) In possession of editor.

CHEROKEE PHOENIX.

1828-34,

CorkRAN, Davin H.

1962. The Cherokee frontier. Norman, Okla.

FOREMAN, CAROLYN THOMAS
1948. Park Hill. Muskogee, Okla.

ForREMAN, GRANT.

1932. Indian removal. Norman, Okla.

1938. Sequoyah. Norman, Okla.

GILBERT, WILLIAM H., JR.

1943. The Eastern Cherokees. Bur. Amer. Ethnol. Bull. 133, Anthrop.
Pap. No. 23, pp. 169-414.

Haas, Mary R.

1961. Comment on Floyd G. Lounsbury’s “Iroquois-Cherokee linguistic
relations.”” In ‘Symposium on Cherokee and Iroquois culture,”
ed. by William N. Fenton and John Gulick. Bur. Amer. Ethnol.
Bull. 180, pp. 19-23.

99 Carolyn Thomas Foreman (1948, pp. 89-90) informs us that the Rev. Samuel A. Worcester was re-
quested by the National Council to deliver a funeral address to ‘‘both branches of the National Council,
officers of the government and many other citizens.”” George Lowrey was probably a Freemason and
possibly affiliated with Cherokee Lodge No. 21, chartered on November 8, 1848, at Tahlequah, although
‘Some history of Freemasonry in Indian Territory before the War Between the States and the organization
of the Grand Lodge’’ (n.d., MS.) does not specifically so state. We infer from this document that the
first Masonic funeral conducted in the Cherokee Nation was that of G. W. Lavender in 1851. Lucy Lowrey
Hoyt would appear to have been astudent at the Cherokee Female Seminary at the time of her grandfather’s
death and burial.

No. 77]. +THE WAHNENAUHI MANUSCRIPT—KILPATRICK 213
HarGRrett, LEsTER.
1951. Oklahoma imprints. 1835-1890. New York.
Kinpatrick, JacK FREDERICK.
1962. An etymological note on the tribal name of the Cherokees and certain
place and proper names derived from Cherokee. Journ. Grad.
Res. Ctr. S.M.U., vol. 30, No. 1, pp. 37-41.
Kinpatrick, JAcK Freprrick, and Kmparrick, ANNA Grirts.
1964. Friendsof Thunder. Folktales of the Oklahoma Cherokees. Dallas, Tex.
Mooney, JAMEs.
1900. Myths of the Cherokee. 19th Ann. Rep. Bur. Amer. Ethnol., 1897—
98, pt. 1, pp. 3-576.
Mooney, James, and OLBrecuts, Frans M.
1932. The Swimmer manuscript. Bur. Amer. Ethnol. Bull. 99.
Prnuine, JAMEs C.
1888. Bibliography of the Iroquoian languages. Bur. Amer. Ethnol. Bull. 6.
ScHWARZE, EDMUND.
1923. History of the Moravian missions among the southern Indian tribes of
the United States. Bethlehem, Pa.
SrarKey, Marion L.
1946. The Cherokee nation. New York.
Srarr, EMMET.
1921. History of the Cherokee Indians and their legends and folklore. Okla-
homa City, Okla.
Swanton, Joun R.
1946. The Indians of the Southeastern United States. Bur. Amer. Ethnol.
Bull. 137.
TIMBERLAKE, HENRY.
1929. Lieutenant Henry Timberlake’s memoirs, 1756-1765. S. C. Williams,
ed. Johnson City, Tenn.
WALKER, Roperr Sparks.
1931. Torchlights to the Cherokees. New York.
Worcester, Samuex A.; Bouprnot, Extras ; ET AL.
1860. Cherokee New Testament. New York.

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BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BULLETIN 196 PLATE 1

/

Wahnenauhi (Mrs. Lucy L. Keys). This photograph was taken sometime between 1900 and
1912, according to Clum D. Keys, grandson of Wahnenauhi, who supplied it.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BULLETIN 195 PLATE 2

Portrait thought to be of George Lowrey. Attributed to J. M. Stanley, 1844. Courtesy,
Thomas Gilcrease Institute of American History and Art, Tulsa, Okla.

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BULLETIN 196 PLATE 3

Sequoyah. Ca. 1760-1843. Also known as George Gist (Guest, Guess). Copy from a
lithograph in McKenney and Hall’s “Indian Tribes of North America.” The original
source is thought to be a painting by C. B. King, Washington, D.C., 1828. (The original
painting is not known to be in existence.)

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY BULLETIN 196 PLATE 4

John Ross. 1790-1866. From a photograph by A. Z. Schindler, Washington, D.C., 1858.

SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION
Bureau of American Ethnology
Bulletin 196

Anthropological Papers, No. 78

THE “PRINCIPAL PEOPLE,” 1960: A STUDY OF
CULTURAL AND SOCIAL GROUPS OF THE
EASTERN CHEROKEE

By HARRIET JANE KUPFERER

215

‘

prea +y »

OP RA BOCK

CONTENTS

PAGE

MaROCHICHION 32 22222 AS cco ae ae ae a 221
HID SGUbING => es ea SS 2 eS ee ha ee ei 221
AWOGY oo) 0) lt ee eee eee ee eee oe 223
(echnigtes Of the study. 2-25) 2.2822 2 eee ne 226

Het CACTONVA CPUC IGS 5 oo So ea oe Se ee 227
PIC ROLOKCOS. Sas fe cee fae feat alee ee eee ne ee ee ee 228
PRO WDaSba. ot A oe a So ae oe Soke ee eee ee ee we 228
(Be sprcsenGn = 22.07 eo SO oe ae so eee 2 eee 233
Pie sDeOp leases] Mee ee haat 5 eat Se eID Sn 234

Mite daily DECRG = 2 Sec ee OE A Re ok 235

Not bweDRGSel SIOME = oes ee ee oe eg 240

AS GGIDEC AV SECU REM en Mensa ree Ake TR eats Ser ca Se ae a 241

ficled Gy Bese some eee ee eee bes et lee a ee ae Be 242
The typology as an approach to cultural differentiation_____________ 243
athe (Cio mas COND 4 ne 245
IPOrpeeibs Omron Tamiles: = 22 ocean Se oe eee ee 247
John and Liza Runner (Conservative)_..____..._-------------- 247

George and Emma Weaver (Generalized Indians)_____________- 250

Bd’and Martha MeVey (Rural White). 5. .2.22.2--=-- 02-525. 252

Richard and Polly King (Middle Class Indians) _______________ 254

Health and medical practices ..-. ee. 2eenisee eee = 3s a en 255
Environmental sanitation and home hygienic practices_____________ 255
Category 1: Inadequates ces2ies eee arte oe koe 256
Catecoryae. / Mania ss 2 sc) 5s See SSUES eae ee Seema ae ae 257
Pareto ios NGpolstess =). eS See ee ee ys Re ae 259
Category ..\ Very AG CQUALE =o ee a ee 260

CAN G He eV AD aes Ree ae ae cele Ss he ad rae oe Se 260
Cateronyslewbassiverres = a2 Somes Sey oe tes Stee ees a ee 261
WAeROny teh NCLIVOS oo. eee Beh eee ee ee 262
Responses toschool-health program = -22 se.) Pees ee 263
Cntecoryy bs Passives 228. seal sak ee Ae ae eee 264
CALBPOLY 2c tN CbIVGs ts 2 tbe wee tae ees oe ne eee ee ee 265

pena ior. prompted by iimess- 2) sos. see es ee ae SS eee 266
Category 1. Patients of Indian “‘doctors”___._....--.--------- 267
Category 2. Patients of Public Health Medical Services-_-_-__-___ 271
Category 3. Patients of private physicians_____-_._-__------_- 272
Conclisionsess ais ta ais aoe oak eee ae) 2 oe a Bs a ale 274
Educational aspirations and experiences__---------------------------- 279
EYRE LOT M OVE Iss samira ae eee eas eo a ane oe Se ee eee 279
Category 1." High school ortented).. =. <@.-.-...=+--s2e42 222 279
Category 2. Post-high-school vocational training oriented_______ 282
Caterory 3. Colleseionientediseen 2.2286 on se 283

218 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 196

Educational aspirations and experiences—Continued PAGE
Reflections on. educational experiences....-..--=..-=-.-.-----is 2. 285
Group). Resemiiul: 2.02522 23 eo 286
Group 2: Apprecmtive: 22202. ooo ee a ee 287
Group's. WBisterect 2 ee ee ee ee 287
Conclisions2 =) 222-3... 252. c- ae eee a he eee 288
Dominantyvalues 222255 sec shee estos seas Sok eee ae 289
"Phe Harmony echits 32 -e a2 se eo ee ee een 289
Interpersonal bevavior 222 ee ee eee 290
Nonenipirical“belicitt ee ee 293
Concepts! Belper 298
The wProtestant eric ne eee 299
interpersonal" bela vier aS ee eee 300
Neli-relinncGes ss ea ee ee eee 303
Monenmpinestbelicise eo ee oe ee 306
Cantepi or sele ata ee ee eee 307
55901.) NTS (Seng at Pa ag ap oe ap cere ey RA Lh Se 309
Summary: A modification of the Thomas continuum___---------------- 311
Social and cultural processes in the formation of Cherokee differentia-

1 Oat ag oh aa cn ah lnc elie penn rampant A Ap aL al 311
ACCU UEA LION =) see a ao 9 hee nen Aan es ont ee 311
Niratineatione. -.-- cee ce ee ee ee ae eee oe ee 312

The dynamics of acculturation and social stratification__._._--_------_- 313
(WCONnChInIONAS <7 tas rena aS Ae es oe ss ee ee ae ee 316
Biptog OGa Rasen anes ee So rn Seer Re eee ee 317
WAUCTA CUTE CULO an oe Se eee ee ee ee nee aS ae ee 321

ILLUSTRATIONS
TEXT FIGURES

PAGE

7. Graphic presentation of health habits of selected Cherokee informants. 278
8. Three models of Cherokee differentiation....--_.-------------------- 314

2c herokee Indian Reservation--. o.o- o-oo oe. ee eee 220

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THE “PRINCIPAL PEOPLE,” 1960: A STUDY OF
CULTURAL AND SOCIAL GROUPS OF THE
HKASTERN CHEROKEE

By Harriet JANE KUPFERER

INTRODUCTION

The first intruders into the country of the Cherokee were the con-
quistadores of DeSoto, who encountered the Cherokee in their search
for gold. From this time, early in the 16th century, the Cherokee
were left undisturbed until the English courted them for military and
diplomatic advantages and trade a century later (Malone, 1956,
pp. 1-5). The colonial period had its inception in approximately
1654; the first trader among the Indians took up his residence in
1690 and spent the remainder of his life among them (U.S. Congress,
1915, pp. 141-147). From this period until 1838 the fortunes of the
Cherokee vacilated between peaceful coexistence with the Whites and
sporadic hostilities and broken treaties with them. In 18388 the
tenuous grip of the Indians on their land was broken, and they were
removed to the Indian Territory. All but a thousand or so of the
people went west to establish a life from the shattered fragments. It
is with the descendants of the remnants who remained hidden in the
mountains, and the few who came back, that this research is concerned.
They now occupy a tract of land in the Great Smoky Mountains of
North Carolina which is held in trust for them, as a reservation, by
the United States Government.

THE SETTING

Together with the Great Smoky Mountains National Park, the
Cherokee Reservation constitutes one of the most visited seasonal
sites in the Southeast (map 2). Each Saturday and Sunday from
early spring until late fall automobiles carrying families of sightseers
converge on the area. The Fourth of July is the biggest weekend of
the summer. At this time, automobiles form a long serpentine line as
they descend the mountain, traveling only a few feet in every 10
minutes on the highways leading into the main village of Cherokee.

221
747-014—66——15

2 Papa BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLy. 196

As the vehicles reach their destination, the occupants tumble out to
crowd their way into the craft shops to purchase souvenirs, only a
limited number of which are made in Cherokee. ‘By noon the motels
exhibit “no vacancy” signs; the campgrounds in the adjacent park are
closed to any more campers; and the drama ‘“‘Unto These Hills” is sold
out. At the end of the day some harassed parents and tired children
make the slow return trip over the mountains to Asheville, N.C., or
Knoxville, Tenn. Those who do not leave and who do not have accom-
modations sleep in their cars or on a blanket by the side of the road
where the unwary walker may stumble over them. The doors of the
shops are closed, but the neon lights continue to burn and the owners of
the businesses congratulate themselves on another good weekend.

The visitors have eaten in the restaurants or picnicked in the
crowded wooded sites. Some have ridden on the miniature railroad
which whistles its way around a quarter-of-a-mile track; others have
gone on a chairlift to the top of a small mountain ridge overlooking
the village. A few have filed through a trailer said to contain the
largest snake in the world, and in the midst of the tumult most of
them have seen Indians.

In front of the commercial enterprises stand stalwart Indian braves
dressed in the fringed trousers and war bonnets of the Plains Indians.
They are there to promote the business in front of which they stand.
For a quarter they will pose for pictures, shake hands with an over-
whelmed small boy, and send an even smaller child into paroxysms of
fright. Other Indians sit quietly in front of the bus station or on
benches in front of the older buildings murmuring softly in Cherokee.
Farther down the road, on the bridge over the Oconaluftee River,
Indian men, boys, and girls sit on the wall or slouch against it, watch-
ing the endless stream of traffic. The tourists see many others whom
they do not realize are Indians. Light-haired, light-eyed people who
own some of the trading posts; girls who serve the tables; and others
who wander up and down the road on this busiest weekend in all the
year are also Indians.

After the autumn foliage is gone and the mountains stand stark and
gray, only an occasional traveler comes through. When the rime on
the peaks is visible from the valley, the gaps through the mountains
are slippery and travel is hazardous. The shops close, the costumed
Indian disappears, and only two eating places remain open to serve
the bus passengers, salesmen, and the personnel of the Government
offices. A few motels stay open, offering winter rates. The tenor of
life at Cherokee changes dramatically, although the people are still
to be seen on the main roads making their quiet way from the Agency
offices, the hospital, or the grocery store. Except on one of the rare
but pleasant warm winter days, the bridge is deserted. The buses unload

S778) 5.) )~)s« EASTERN CHEROKEE GROUPS—KUPFERER 228
their passengers without the stares of the summertime audience, and
the village is singularly empty and still.

But in any season the visitors to Cherokee seldom go far from the
business center. A turn on the road leading to “Shut In,” “Adams
Creek,” “Swimmer Branch,” or “Straight Fork’? would reveal ways
of life not apparent in the village. Hidden in narrow valleys are
cabins, concealed in the summer by hovering trees and blended into
the gray-black background of the winter hills. Only faint streams
of smoke tell of their presence. Others are set on sides of mountains
approachable only by footpaths. Some of the trails cross swinging
bridges and wind through rhododendron slicks. A few well-tended farms,
and some not so well tended, surround other homes. Concrete blocks,
wooden poles or logs, and roughhewn boards covered with tar paper
are the materials which have gone into these buildings. Other houses
closer to the main village are modern ‘‘ranch style.’”’ But regardless
of the place or kind of home, a daily and seasonal round takes place
in it which is characteristic of Cherokee’s people.

THE PROBLEM

Who are these people? According to the old people who speak
Cherokee, they are Ani-yun-wiya, the ‘real people,’ or ‘principal
people.’ Others who speak only English refer to themselves as
Indians and members of the Eastern Band of Cherokee. Phenotypi-
cally, they range from copper-skinned, black-haired, black-eyed people
to blond, blue-eyed individuals. There are college graduates among
them, and some whose formal education ceased with the second or
third grade. There are those whose English is so limited as to be
virtually useless, and many whose knowledge of Cherokee is confined
to only afew words. Veterans of military service have been overseas,
while some of their parents and neighbors have never been farther than
Asheville.

It is with this apparently bewildering heterogeneity that this re-
search is concerned. The lack of homogeneity is not a recent phenom-
enon among the Cherokee. Early writers hint of it in their descriptions
of the Indians. In 1827 the parents of Catherine Brown, a mixblood,
were described as members of the more intelligent class of their people.
It was said about Catherine,“‘If you were to see her in a boarding
school in New England, as she ordinarily appears here, you could not
distinguish her from well educated females of the age either by her
complexion, features, dress, pronunciation or manners’’ (Anderson,
1827, pp. 17-37). Malone (1956, p. 127), commenting on the clothing
of the 19th-century Cherokee, says that it varied as widely as did the
social scale. Thomas Parker points out that there was a marked split

224. BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 196

in the nation with respect to culture. ‘There was, as a matter of
fact, a division of the nation into Upper and Lower Cherokees. The
former had abandoned the hunt and were engaged in pursuits of civil-
ized man while the Lower Cherokees still preferred their old life’’
(Parker, 1907, p. 12).

In 1958, Robert K. Thomas, a member of the Cross Cultural Lab-
oratory of the University of North Carolina, lived among the Cherokee
for a year. On the basis of his experience he proposed a typology of
groups which comprise the present population: Conservative Indian;
Generalized Indian; Rural White Indian; and Middle Class Indian
(Gulick, 1960, p. 127). These categories were established according
to differing integrative values and differing world views. The Con-
servative views himself as an order of man different from the rest of
men. Overtly, he is still the stoic red man. Insofar as there are In-
dian traits present (native speech and medicine), he preserves them.
The Generalized Indian considers himself an Indian but also an
American. He demonstrates inconsistency in statements on values,
shifting between western values and Conservative values. As a
group, the Generalized Indians interact more readily with Whites and
are more open in their behavior. The Rural White Indians are much
like southern Whites from rural areas. The Middle Class is composed
of people who are derived from both the Rural White group and the
Generalized Indian group. These people have arrived financially,
and adhere firmly to an orientation which emphasizes progress and
individual efforts (Thomas, MS. a, 1958, pp. 19-24).

Objections have been made to the names given these groups, and
the distinctions between them are not always clear. John Gulick
says, however, that they seem more appropriate to the specific
Eastern Cherokee situation than such terms as “native,” ‘native
modified,” and ‘‘White,’’ which have been used to describe situations on
other reservations (Gulick, 1960, p. 128). It is our purpose to explore
the range of behaviors and attitudes among the Cherokee, using
Thomas’ continuum as a tentative guide, with the ultimate aim of
affirming it or of suggesting another.

Typologies have been described for other Indian groups. Notable
among these has been the work of George Spindler (1952) and Irving
Hallowell (1952) who have used projective material to determine
boundaries. Fred Voget (1951) and Edward Bruner (1956) attend
to the same problem, utilizing sociocultural data to draw distinctions,
In both these approaches to the question of differential acculturation,
health and medical practice are frequently mentioned in general terms
as indicators of a particular cultural orientation, either toward

Astra) =U BASTERN CHEROKEE GROUPS—KUPFERER 225
‘native’ or toward ‘“‘White.”’ The literature also mentions education
as one basic criterion for separating disparate groups of people.’

Consequently, in the effort to place Cherokees in groups according
to the degree of acculturation, I propose to focus this study on two
sociocultural variables: health and medical practices, and attitudes
and behavior toward education. Although these variables have been
described as pertinent in the literature and although Thomas has
talked of them in conjunction with the Conservative Cherokee, with
few exceptions they have not been the object of deep examination.
In an examination of culture change among Mescalero Apaches,
Peter Kunstadter (MS., 1960) used, as an index of health behavior,
the number of visits to the free Public Health Service clinic made by
individuals during a 2-year period. Although such an index was
appropriate to his study, I include under the rubric of health and
medical practices a greater range of verbalizations and behavior.
To what extent are Indian doctors used? Are the skills of both
Indian doctors and White doctors combined in treatment of illness?
Are Public Health physicians or physicians in private practice used
most frequently? Are there discernible differences in attitudes and
behavior among those who attend scheduled Public Health clinics?
What is the response of children to health instruction offered in the
Indian schools?

In addition to what the informants say about education—is it
valued or disvalued—I am interested in knowing what is done in
regard to it. How have the educational experiences of the adults
affected them in terms of their behavior and in respect to the goals
or aspirations which they hold for their children? Do the children
attend school regularly? What schools do they attend—reservation
schools or nearby community schools?? Ifthey attend public schools,
why do they? To what extent do the children communicate what is
learned in school to the parents?

Dominant values and constituent behavior—interpersonal rela-
tionships, concept of self, nonempirical beliefs—will be examined to
determine whether there are sufficient differences in these variables
to identify groups and whether these differences correspond in any
meaningful way to disparate behavior in health and education.

In summary, the task of this study is a threefold one. Do health
and medical practices and educational practices vary sufficiently
among the Cherokee to employ them as primary variables in de-
scribing acculturation? Are there other cultural variables which
cluster about the key ones in a salient manner? On the basis of the

1 See, for example: Warner et al., 1947; Voget, 1952, pp. 89-92; Spindler and Goldschmidt, 1952, pp. 68-83.
2 County and city schools adjacent to the reservation are called public schools by the Indians.

226 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Bun. 196

answers to the foregoing questions, does the Thomas continuum
apply to the Eastern Band of Cherokee Indians?

TECHNIQUES OF THE STUDY

Gaining acceptance among the Conservative Indians is not a
simple task. However, it was made considerably easier for me as a
result of the fieldwork done in Big Cove, one of the more traditional
communities, by my colleagues in the Cross Cultural Laboratory.
In the summer of 1959 I lived in Big Cove in the home of an elderly
Cherokee, and in close proximity to the families of her two daughters
and one of her granddaughters. During the following winter and
spring of 1960, I was located about half a mile from the center of
Cherokee on the banks of the Oconaluftee River. Close neighbors
were young married people, some of whom were living in rented
quarters. Others were living in their own trailers. The owner of
the cottages and of the land on which the trailers were parked lived
on the premises in his own trailer. Late in the spring I moved to
Soco, the first reservation section approached from the east. The
home in which J lived was owned by an elderly widow and was located
in a somewhat isolated section.

I tried to explain my purpose in living on the reservation, but only
the more sophisticated understood. Some thought I was a Quaker
who had come to work among them; others suspected that I was a
writer or a teacher. Some simply considered me eccentric, but all
eventually tolerated my presence.

Through visiting with people, attending box suppers, church
prayer meetings, and funerals, I was able to participate as much as is
possible in their life. Most of my interviewing was unstructured and
informal. It consisted of gossiping about the happenings of the day
and the coming and going of the people around. Inquiries about the
health of the host or hostess, often made in Cherokee, elicited the
data desired. Other conversations were directed toward the schools,
the aspirations of the parents for their children, and their own
educational experiences.

Observation in the schools and clinics provided insights into the
behavior associated with these institutions. Members of the health
staff and school faculty were very helpful in orienting me toward
their goals.

T made a few house calls with the social workers from the Bureau
Welfare Office (now Social Services Branch) and accompanied the
home demonstration agent on several occasions. I substituted in
the high school for part of a day during the absence of a teacher and
waited on tables in the cafe of one of the White Indian business
owners, and sat in the sun at the bus station. I provided trans-

No 7s). .)~)d«xEASTERN CHEROKEE GROUPS—KUPFERER 227

portation for people on their numerous errands and trips to town.
On one occasion my home was used as a refuge by members of a
family escaping from the potential violence of a drunken son.

There are weaknesses in the participant-observation method, of
course. Obviously a population numbering over 4,000 is too large
for one person to know. Sex and age preclude interacting at some
levels, and the personality of the anthropologist as well as of his
informants will determine in some measure the individuals to whom
he is attracted and those who are attracted to him. Given these
limitations, however, the method has enabled a description of the
members of the Eastern Band of Cherokee, 1960.

In order to find the answers to the questions posed in this study,
families and individuals who seemed to resemble Thomas’ four types
were selected as cases for intensive analysis. Field notes were kept
of every visit and conversation. They were subjected to a content
analysis according to the variables.

Early in my stay in the field, the extent of the belief in immanent
justice among the Indian children was examined. The tests used by
the staff of the Indian Education Research Project were adapted for
use with the Cherokee (see Havighurst and Neugarten, 1955). The
sample included all the children in the third and sixth grades from
four Indian elementary schools. The 9th and 12th grades from
Cherokee High School were also included. An additional control was
obtained by administering the test to a similar sample of White
children from the public schools of Jackson County. The responses
of both groups of children were compared for statistical significance
of differences (cf. p. 294, footnote 21).

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

This project grew out of the research of many investigators who
were, from time to time, associated with the Cross Cultural Laboratory
of the University of North Carolina. Most particularly, I am
indebted to Robert K. Thomas for his penetrating insights into the
Eastern Band of Cherokee. Frequent conversations with him added
immeasurably to my knowledge of the people. Charles Holzinger,
Paul Kutsche, and Raymond Fogelson were encouraging.

Dr. John Gulick served as my dissertation advisor. His helpful
suggestions and criticisms clarified many points; his patience is grate-
fully appreciated.

Dr. William Pollitzer graciously shared the results of his serological
research with me. Dr. Laura Thompson was a stimulus in many
ways and suggested the replication of an aspect of the Indian Educa-
tion Research Project. J am grateful to Dr. Joffre Coe for instances

of assistance and support.

228 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLy. 196

The Cherokee Agency personnel were always cooperative. Miss
Evanelle Tomasson, Mrs. Margaret Smith, and Mrs. Molly A. Blan-
kenship were particularly helpful.

I wish to express my thanks to the Institute for Research in Social
Science of the University of North Carolina for financial aid in the
early phase of the fieldwork. I am deeply indebted to the National
Institute of Mental Health for grant MF-9222, which provided
generous and continued support for this research. The University
of North Carolina at Greensboro Research Council provided funds
to assist in the final preparation of the manuscript.

Miss Priscilla Roetzel and Miss Lorraine Lively were kind enough
to edit and proofread the manuscript.

Finally, I am grateful to have known the people of Cherokee. In
the last analysis, it is they who made this research possible.

THE CHEROKEE
THE PAST

Following the Removal in 1838, the history of the Cherokee branches
into two nearly discrete streams. One stream holds in its current
those who went west during the Removal. Apparently many of the
better educated and mixbloods were among this group. In examin-
ing a roll compiled by Mullay, a Federal enumerator, Gaston Litton
(1940, p. 209) says that the great predominance of Cherokee names
suggests that the emigration of 1838-39 took away most of the mix-
bloods. Judging from the elegance of the prose of the letters written
by the Ridge, Watie, and Boudinot families, one is probably justified
in concluding that a significant portion of potential leadership was
drained off by this event (Dale and Litton, 1939).

The other historical course involves the fortunes of the fugitives
from the roundup, “principally . . . mountain Cherokee . . ., the
purest-blooded and most conservative of the Nation”? (Mooney, 1900,
p. 157). As a result of Tsali’s historic sacrifice,? General Winfield
Scott granted permission to the people hidden deep in secluded recesses
of the mountains to remain in the east. Col. Will Thomas (‘Little
Will’) spent 6 years in Washington, D.C., seeking official recognition
of the right of his adopted people to remain in their homeland. Per-
mission was finally granted, and Thomas, using the moneys due the
Cherokee for property confiscation and damage, purchased tracts of
mountain land for them. The titles to the property were held by

3 Tsali and his sons killed a soldier while escaping from the Removal roundup. They, like other es-
capees, fled to an inaccessible mountain cave. General Scott, recognizing the tremendous task involved
in capturing all of the fugitives, offered permission for them to remain in their homeland in exchange for
Tsali. Tsali and his two older sons surrendered and were executed for the murder.

Ate; T“*)~) EASTERN CHEROKEE GROUPS—KUPFERER 229
Thomas as trustee for the Indians, who were not permitted by the
laws of North Carolina to own land (Mooney, 1900, p. 159). These
parcels of land still comprise the bulk of the present reservation.

In rebuilding a life, the people were achieving some success by
1848, for Mullay wrote:

I was gratified to find the Cherokees who inhabit the valleys and coves of this
wild, interesting and romantic region, a moral and comparatively industrious
people—sober and orderly to a marked degree—and although almost wholly
ignorant of our language (not a single full-blood and but few of the half-breeds
speaking English) advancing encouragingly in the acquirement of a knowledge
of agriculture, the ordinary mechanical branches, & in spinning, weaving, &c.[*]

In spite of the migration of many mixbloods, some stayed behind.
It can safely be presumed that many of these were not as acculturated
as the migrants. Their lack of facility with English demonstrates
this conviction. However, many of their descendants figure promi-
nently in the present-day mixed population of Cherokee. One of the
most prolific of the ‘‘White Indian” families traces White ancestors
back at least as early as 1840.

About the same time that Mullay visited the area, another traveler

spent a week with Will Thomas. He describes his impressions of the
people as follows:
. . . probably as temperate as any other class of people, honest in their business
intercourse, moral in thought word and deeds. Three fourths of them can read
in their own language, and though a majority can understand English few can
speak it. They practice to a considerable extent the science of agriculture. . .
they are in fact the happiest community that I have met with in the southern
country. [Lanman, 1849, p. 95.]

In 1851 the Siler Roll was taken. This roll is of interest, for, in
connection with it, Siler, the compiler, wrote to his superior in Wash-
ington requesting instructions in regard to listings of Negro admix-
tures. The directions came back saying: “. . . if they are recog-
nized as Cherokees by their council, you will enroll them as such with
some special mark.’’> This donation to the Indian gene pool was
made by slaves and probably a few freed Negroes. In the comments
accompanying the roll, references are made to some marriages with
Catawba Indians. This is not unexpected, for in 1840 one hundred
or more of them took up residence among the Cherokee. However,
because of discontent and some conflict, most of them wandered
back to South Carolina. The genealogy of one elite Cherokee
family today includes a Catawba ancestor.

The Swetland Roll, completed in 1860, states that there were 800
fullbloods in the Qualla settlement and nearly 400 people, mostly
fullbloods, in Cheoah. A group of 500 that came in for registration

4 Litton, 1940, quoting from a letter from Mullay to the Washington office, 1848.
5 Litton, 1940, p. 212, quoting from a letter from Lea to Siler, 1851.

230 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLu. 196

at Murphy, N.C., was partly or largely of White blood. This roll
had a majority of Indian names although there were many English
forms (Litton, 1940, pp. 216-218).

The progress and the achievements of the people after the Removal
were transitory, for the Cherokee were not to be permitted to continue
their rebuilding. The Civil War broke around them, leaving turmoil
and property loss in its wake. It also created cleavages among the
people, for, although the majority joined the Confederacy and were
members of the Thomas Legion, others fought for the Union forces,
and some changed allegiances. In 1892 there were 14 Union veterans
surviving, and about 39 Confederate veterans (Carrington, 1892,
p. 21).

It was after the Civil War that the first serious attempt toward
the organization of a tribal government was made. On December 1,
1870, a constitution was adopted and first and second chiefs were
elected. They served until 1875 when further amendments were made
to the constitution (Litton, 1940, p. 201). At this time the Indian
office assumed regular supervision over the Cherokee. The first
agent (sent out 10 years after the war) reported that he found the
Indians destitute, discouraged, and almost without stock and farming
tools. ‘There were no schools. Very few fullbloods could speak
English, but nearly all could read and write in their own language
(Mooney, 1900, p. 174). The poverty and disorganization which
he describes were a bitter legacy of the war.

Several succeeding rolls were taken which are pertinent to this
research. The Hester Roll (1884) reported 2,956 Eastern Cherokee:
1,881 in North Carolina; 758 in Georgia; 213 in Tennessee; 71 in
Alabama; 3 in South Carolina; 8 in New Jersey; 5 in Virginia; 1 in
Illinois; 3 in Kansas; 1 in Colorado; and 1 in California. In connec-
tion with the compilation of this roll, Chief Nimrod J. Smith wrote:

. another difficulty is presented in the fact that we have been for a long time
living in the midst of and surrounded by two other races of people with whom
there has been more or less intermarriage and cohabitation producing a result
which makes it very difficult to trace the Indian blood. [Litton, 1940, pp. 222-—223.]
A particularly curious fact is mentioned in the comments on this
roll: that there were at the time of the enrollment 10 Cherokees in
attendance at Trinity College (now Duke University) (ibid.,
p. 223).

In 1889 the Cherokee became a corporate group under the laws
of the State of North Carolina. In 1890 the total within the State
was 1,520, of which 774 were males and 746 were females. Subsequent
to the 1884 roll some moved to adjoining States and others to the
Indian Territory (Donaldson, 1892, p. 7).

AgTHEGr: Par. EASTERN CHEROKEE GROUPS—KUPFERER 231

Nine years before the incorporation of the tribe, a school was
established. The Quakers contracted with the Tribal Council to
operate a training school for 10 years; the term expired in 1890. At
the time of the expiration, the majority of the council favored its
continuation, but the principal chief, Nimrod J. Smith, opposed
the renewal of the contract (ibid., p. 16). In 1901 the Federal
Government assumed the responsibility for education.

During the Friends’ administration of the school, Virginia Young
visited it and was much impressed by what she saw:

A whole army of scholars came marching to the dining hail . . . the girls were
taught to sew, mend, and darn. Instructions were given in laundry and cooking.
They were such accomplished mistresses of these arts that the demand for them
in Asheville as house servants could not be supplied. [Young, 1894, p. 172.]
She credited the wife of the superintendent with the success of the
enterprise.

The inspiration of the school is Mrs. Spray. She is a strong believer in woman’s
suffrage. . . . It is her housewifely skill which has made refinement and neatness
and system characteristic of this home in the wilderness . . . the motive power
by which she rules being love. [Ibid., p. 173.]

A typical day at the training school was a rigorous one indeed:
5 a.m., morning bell; 5:30, breakfast; 6—9:00, industrial work; 9-11:15,
school exercises; noon, dinner; 12:30-1:30 p.m., industrial work;
1:30-4:00, school exercises; 46:00, industrial work; 6 p.m., supper;
6:30-7:00, recreation; 7-8:00, evening study; 8 p.m., evening prayers;
8:30, retiring bell (Carrington, 1892, p. 16). Under circumstances
such as these, those who survived were undoubtedly rapidly indoc-
trinated in ways other than Indian—perhaps through “‘ove,’’ but
certainly through regimentation.

In 1892 Donaldson observed that:

. . . they [the Cherokee] have few wants. They are peaceable, sociable and
industrious, with marked ambition to acquire wealth . . . the main occupation
is that of farming. Although the acreage is limited in each tract, the crops
realized are more than sufficient for home necessities. [Ibid., pp. 13-14.]
The average earnings of males per year was estimated at $166, and
the per capita wealth of the band was $217.25. Itis not clear whether
this is an annual figure or represents total per capita assets.
Donaldson (1892, p. 9) said that the Cherokee earned as much and
lived as well as the White people about them. We infer from this
picture of the economic situation that by this time some recovery had
been made from the postwar devastation. It is well to recognize,
however, that average figures are misleading.

In 1907 another roll, known as the Churchill Roll, was taken. On
this one appears for the first time a predominance of English names
over Cherokee forms. This would not necessarily mean that the

232 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLu. 196

White admixture was much greater than in prior times, for many
names when translated or anglicized do not reveal their origin.
However, on this roll many blood fractions are listed. Among the
most typical are %, %, %, 4, %, Ke Ks, oe, %e, etc. (Litton, 1940,
p. 226).

From 1848 to 1907 the Cherokee once more evolved from a nearly
fullblood group to one which counts its Indian inheritance in a welter
of confusing fractions. As I have pointed out, not all the mixbloods
emigrated, but the bulk of this admixture is post-Removal. At the
time of the 1890 census, there were 56 White families who were
unlawfully on the tract, occupying and farming 6,000 acres of good
land (Donaldson, 1892, p. 8). Family histories suggest that in addi-
tion to the reservoir of White blood existing from earlier times, much
of it came into the population about this time and from some of
these intruders.

The Baker Roll was started in 1924 as part of a Federal termination-
type program. ‘This was to have been the final roll, and it included
all those of at least % Indian inheritance plus those born no later
than June 4, 1924. This roll has been surrounded by controversy
and acrimony. Allegations have been made that many were enrolled
with no more eligibility than $5. Of the 3,146 names recorded, 1,222
are contested cases (Litton, 1940, pp. 229-231). This is a touchy
subject in Cherokee now. There are people who are scornfully
described by others, usually fullbloods, as ‘‘five-dollar Indians.” As
Gulick (1960, p. 16) points out, the Baker Roll has many problems
associated with it, not the least of which is the fact that no one under
37 (in 1961) is legally a member of the tribe.

In 1958 the council voted to take a new roll. The blood require-
ment is now set at %, although initially there was a movement for
a % requirement which was defeated in the council. In addition to
the inheritance stipulation, there are residence requirements. The
roll at the time of this writing is not yet complete, nor will it be closed;
those eligible will be added at birth. During the present enrollment,
some applicants have been refused, but those refused may request
special hearings on their applications. The tribal enrollment clerk
said, ‘Some of these people must think that they are going to get
some money. ‘That’s why they are so eager to be enrolled.”

In 1929, Cherokee had not burgeoned into the vacation area that
it is today. There was no town, and, exclusive of the school and the
agency, the settlement had no electricity. The small cluster of
buildings around the Cherokee station on the Appalachian Railway
and on the banks of the river was composed of three fairly large
stores, one small store, a warehouse, and two Indian dwellings. The
largest store was owned by the chief, John Tahquette, a fullblood.

ae PaP. EASTERN CHEROKEE GROUPS—KUPFERER 233
Across the river on the west side was another small settlement. One
of the stores was a craft and curio shop. The Cherokee language
was spoken by more than three-quarters of the population. All but
a 10th could speak English and all could understand it. During this
year two boys were in college, and three boys and two girls were in
junior college. Prior to 1929, according to Henry Owl (MS., 1929,
pp. 133-161), four boys had received college degrees, and two girls
had completed nurses’ training.

The preceding glimpse into the turbulent past of the Cherokee helps
set the stage for Cherokee, 1960, for in that which exists today are
threads from other days.

THE PRESENT

The present-day Cherokee occupy a reservation of 56,572 acres.
Included in this are 159 acres controlled by the Bureau of Indian
Affairs and used for schools and other service areas. The region is
mountainous; coves are sheltered by thickly wooded hills; good bottom
lands floor the valleys. As a consequence of this topography, 46,582
acres are forest land, 4,053 are agricultural, and the remainder are in
grass, pasture, and wasteland. The main reservation, Qualla Bound-
ary, straddles two counties: 29,504 acres are in Swain County and
19,347 acres are in Jackson County. In Graham County, the Snow-
bird section includes 2,249 acres. Approximately 5,571 acres of land
are held in Cherokee County in fragmented tracts. If all the land
were to be distributed according to families, each family would hold
approximately 95 acres. The largest landholder lives in Big Cove and
controls between 500 and 600 acres, most of which are in timber.

Elevations in the area range from 1,900-4,700 feet. Although the
valleys may be bare, snow is frequently visible on mountain tops dur-
ing the winter. Spring arrives gradually in March and April, reaching
the lowlands first and creeping up the mountains as shades of green
blend into each other. Trees are just budding at the top of Soco Gap
when lower regions are a panorama of green. Rhododendron and
flame azalea bloom long after they have gone from the riverbanks
below. In February, the coldest month, the temperature averages
29.7° F. and in July, the warmest month, the average is 80.5° F.
The mean for the year is 54.9° F. Although the temperatures vary
from year to year, the climate is relatively mild and there is an abun-
dance of moisture.

The land is held in trust for the people by the U.S. Government.
Individuals do not hold title to their lands, but have possessory rights
to certain tracts. These holdings are freely bought, traded, and sold
among the Indians, and they may be willed and inherited within the
band. Just prior to my first period of fieldwork, one landholder, an

234 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLy. 196

elderly widow, had all her land surveyed and distributed among her
heirs. Several days later she returned to the Agency and took it
back again. During this period she put a son and daughter off her
land and had the former ‘lawed” so that he could not come on her
land for 6 months! A land sale was recorded during this period of
fieldwork in which $30 was given as a downpayment for a piece of
bottom land costing $50. But the informant said that the owner had
not signed anything over, and in the meantime had sold 4 acres from
the same bottom to a mission group. The first purchaser was worried
that the owner had sold the same land twice. However, on a later
visit, I found that the foundation for the informant’s new home was
being erected on the plot.

In 1929 Henry M. Owl (ibid., p. 136) said, ‘It is very remarkable
and a credit to the tribe that there has been absolutely no misunder-
standings and disagreements among individuals about boundaries and
ownership of the individual tracts.’”’ This may have been the situa-
tion at the time of his work, but our field notes include several cases
of disputed boundaries. Moreover, one of the routine responsibilities
of the Tribal Council is arbitration of land disputes.

THE PEOPLE

In 1960 the population of the band was enumerated at 4,494.
Since the 1924 roll listed only 2,540 members, it is evident that the
population has nearly doubled in 36 years. At the time of the 1924
count the genetic composition of the roll was analyzed, and the data
are available. Unfortunately we have no comparative figures for
1960. However, Gulick (1960, pp. 16-17), using figures based upon
the composition of the school enrollment for 1956-57, suggests that
some notion of the inheritance of the population can be estimated.
Nevertheless we must keep in mind that, in the case of children with
one-half or less Indian blood, there is the possibility that the child’s

TaBLE 1.—Comparison of Indian blood degree in 1924 roll call with that in school
jigures in 1956-57

19241 1956-1957 2
Blood degree Number | Percent Blood degree Number | Percent

AG TAAL ES Ra gh. Ok Ee Ee 2 525 PUY all ace ve ee 2 ee 197 22. 89
eee Pee nee eel 326 12.88 | 544d oe as 2 ea a ee es 223 25. 90

pee tee 22 183 TAL APU Saee Se PS ee Ae 172 19. 97
Vie re ee 180 7.09) S46 i ee ee 140 16. 26

hie SER Sy Ae een 613 24.13 || Less than 4_-_....___.__-_--- 129 14. 98
Dessythen Wg. 713 28. 07

AMS) | RE ee Sees ee 2, 540 100. 00 Notal.. 22 3. 2==822-— = 861 100. 00

1 Tribal file data, 1960.
2 Based on school] enrollment data only.

Ao77e; {)~)d«XEASTERN CHEROKEE GROUPS—KUPFERER 235

inheritance may differ markedly from either or both of his parents.
Table 1 compares the Indian blood degree of the 1924 roll with the
figures obtained from the schools in 1956-57. Analysis of the age
distribution in 1960 reveals that over half of the band is 40 years of
age and under. There were 750 children aged 10 or under, and 158
old people aged between 80 and 100 years.

Serological data on the Cherokee were obtained by William Pollitzer
in 1958 and again in 1960. Phenotypic distribution of blood types
is what we might expect, for it is characteristic of Indian tribes, not
including the Blood and Blackfoot groups. Table 2 summarizes
these findings. Hemoglobin levels were studied; less than 5 percent
of the sample had fewer than 12 grams of hemoglobin. There was
no abnormal hemoglobin, i.e., sickle cell.®

TaBLE 2.—Blood type distribution

Fullblood Less than fullblood
Type

Number Percent Number Percent
(Oj 9 GM a SBS UE PRE Sesh EA eee et SS hoes meet ee 2. had 157 94. 58 265 71. 62
| yee Ree Se ee Se ee ae 3. 61 87 23. 52
pe ee 2 Le es £ ee ES bee PES tS eS RCE EL 3 1,81 We 4. 59
IND. Jae See Sie EE i ae ee eee eS 0 0.00 1 0. 27
Motel eso ote. Leer ae Seen Berne Ore oe ee 166 100. 00 370 100. 00
TTA Seo AE St RR i ie ae ae Re aT 50 64.11 42 49. 41
INASINES OBES CPPLES SILER PSE So Td. 3 MPS Ee 25 32. 05 32 37. 65
ee Ee lie is eS 2 oe dk a Se eS eg 3, 84 11 12. 94
Topas o* oe Sonne eae ee A 78 100. 00 85 100. 00

THE DAILY BREAD

The main sources of earned income derive from the tourist industry,
two factories, miscellaneous wage labor, and, to a much lesser extent,
timbering. Farming as an exclusive occupation is confined to so
few that it can scarcely be regarded as an important source of cash.
However, for the purposes of this research, I have chosen to designate
fulltime farmers as those who operate farms which include more than
kitchen gardens. Many of these farmers have an additional source
of income deriving from their own efforts or those of their spouses.
Even with this qualification there are only 44 people living within
the Qualla Boundary who may be regarded as farmers.’

The farms are spread unequally over the reservation. There are 5
in Cherokee, 4 in Painttown, 18 in Soco, 6 in Big Cove, and 11 in Bird-
town. Because several people have suggested that fullbloods are not
attracted to farming, or that the general tendency is for the more

6 William Pollitzer, personal conference, February 17, 1961.
7 This figure does not include data from Graham or Cherokee Counties.

236 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLy. 196

progressive farmer to be less than fullblood,® the data on agriculture
were examined with respect to Indian inheritance. Table 3 seems to
confirm the impression.

TABLE 3.—Analysis of the Indian inheritance of full-time farmers !

Indian degree of inheritance Number Percent

UT Re Se ae ee ROL Seen ie Se Se = nee See 20 45.45
a Ga Ge ee een tre en eee ne Seren eee eee Dee eee Ae ee 8 18.19
Ey ee Ae gee ies ee oe, eh ee ee eae en, eee es 4 9.09
S064 s 06d tonnes See a nae es ceo eee eu anee newer, Mabe MR TIS Deere 6 13. 63
ANY ll) Ye AD ae AN 3 5 Se Oe ee ee 2 5 eee es eee 7 1 2.27
GB hans rere ae a eae ee a ee ee Oe ee ee Soe AIRE ee 0 0. 00
OTE ae ee See ee ne Ps ee es eee en Sean Jee Te San See 5 11.37
NG fis SOS SN Ra ed a a ee a 44 100. 00

1 Data secured from Extension Office, Cherokee, July 1960.

Raymond Fogelson (MS., 1958, p. 25) suggests that, ‘“The ready
adoption of white-Huro-American farming techniques originally took
place mainly among the mixed blood population occupying the fay-
orable Georgia bottom lands.” This is true, but writers on the East-
ern Band also remark on the quality of farming among the Cherokee
in the 19th century. An informant describing Big Cove said:

You know, when I was a girl this whole bottom was covered with corn and beans,
and people had hogs. We had all we wanted to eat. The man that raised me
had about thirty hogs. (My mother gave me away.) He said that when he died,
it would all go away and it did, too. People don’t farm any more—rather work
for cash, I guess—but things were better then.

In examining these reports more closely, the farming which is men-
tioned so often is actually a subsistence type and follows closely the
aboriginal pattern of hunting-gardening. ‘Thomas (MS. a, pp. 33-34)
states that cash-crop farming was taken over by a few as game declined,
but was discarded at the first opportunity for wage labor.

Today the dominant type of farming is subsistence. The main cash
crop is tobacco; however, the average allotments are very small. The
largest farmer, who has more than 100 acres of land, has nine-tenths
of an acre allotment. He recently put in an acre of strawberries as an
additional cash crop. Beef is becoming more important as a result of
improved pastures, but the largest herd has only about 30 head.
Vegetable production for commercial markets is very limited, although
a few of the village restaurants purchase beans and potatoes grown
locally. The goals of the Extension Division include a movement
toward part-time farming and good home gardens.”

8 County Agent, personal conference, June 15, 1960.
§ Cf. above, pp. 229, 231.
10 Personal conference, County Agent, July 1960.

NO 78) ~=« EASTERN CHEROKEE GROUPS—KUPFERER 237
As a result of forest management on a sustained-yield basis, the
timber stands have improved. The forest is of the moist-soil type.
Of the hardwoods, oak and hickory predominate. The native conif-
erous trees are pine and hemlock; the balsam, red spruce, and Norway
pine were introduced by the Civilian Conservation Corps in the 1930’s.
The regrowth estimate is 2 million feet a year. Consequently,
annual cutting is limited to this amount. Cutting permits are given
contingent upon the possession of cuttable timber; each such permit
allows the removal of 2,000 feet. However, in hardship cases excep-
tions are made, and in the case of large landholders, permits can be
issued in the name of different family members. For instance, the
largest landholder has had as much as 9,000 feet cut in a year.

Logging is not very rewarding, for the average value of 2,000 feet
was only $80 in 1960. Of this, the owner must pay a stumpage fee of
10 percent of the selling price to the tribe. Should the owner not have
the means to snake out the logs, he must pay to have it done. Ulti-
mately the owner may realize as little as $40 annually from his timber.
Timbering regulations, which include the exclusion of stock from
wooded land, are a source of irritation to many.

The tourist industry is an important element in the economic base
of Cherokee. Aside from the profits which accrue to owners of busi-
nesses, many are employed as waitresses, sales personnel, and motel
maids.

In order to operate a business of any sort on the reservation the
owner must hold a trader’s license for which there is no charge. White
business operators who are not married to a tribal member must pro-
cure a lease that is individually negotiated. The length of the lease
depends upon the size of the given investment. During the period
between 1950 and 1960 there was a trend away from White lessees.
At the time this information was acquired, there were no White-oper-
ated motels. Despite this trend a close look at the licenses issued

TasBue 4.— Trading licenses of Indians!

Blood degrees Num- Per-

ber cent
ea ete ee. SVE) OTL BER. NEES ee Seen 25 45. 46
Bete dt rest oat ne nepoe disc) syrbort yep i ereriy) ela re 13 72
“ye na oa ee eae “Speer nana pestle iy racks pean wen rel aye ee 2 3. 63
Bn IGA te ken ees ome ee DER CEE Oat 4 7. 29
IE A oe ae Sere ee eee Se ase 8 14. 55
Be ae a ee Re ae Me wy ete 2 3. 63
Cee oats. LAG ol eee ip sinter ct es. eee teryy AE Ui 128G2
UGA hese ceed sells cape ST is ad eel leek ne ligt ae 55 100. 00

1 Data secured from Agency Office, July 1960.
747—014— 66 16

238 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Buu. 196

demonstrates that although those businesses are Indian-operated, the
entrepreneurs are seldom fullbloods.

Table 4 illustrates these data. 'The mean for these figures is *%,,
the median is 1%,, and the mode is %,. Mean averages notwithstand-
ing, these figures indicate that the greatest number of businesses are
owned by people of \, Indian inheritance.

Table 4 does not reveal the kinds of businesses which are being
operated by people with variations in Indian inheritance. These data
are illustrated in table 5. The fact that there is a difference in totals
between the two sets of data is a result of the number of licenses held
by any one person, for a license must be obtained for every enterprise,
even though the same person may run all of them. Among the li-
censes for 1960, for instance, six were issued to one woman of }, inheri-
tance and four to a man of % inheritance.

TABLE 5.—Types of businesses operated by Indians, by blood degrees!

Blood degrees—
Business N Sa
er
1/64— | 11/64- | 21/64— | 41/64— | 51/64- | 61/64—
10/64 | 20/64 | 40/64 50/64 | 60/64 64/64
Tourist:
MOstanrantes = 26 = Mee ae ee CT (ale Se | il lS ae ae ee fon 8
Craits‘and'souvenirs: ——_- --=.-2----- = ll 1 2 Ce Se ene erp eee 17
VOTO eaee: RN SEER E ILS A eee Ae 8 cs el eee ks aS a seh es 1 15
raver COUlt~ssonsno-ss===-252-=—S-2e-anae 1 | Se ae eee eee ee eee 2
Service:
Gain re se see eee eae 1 1 i eae 1 21 5
Qe ee ee Seen eee ee Se IP | Sesser As Se | See 1 5 7
Grocery. =.= aa ee ree 2 a CF ee ee 7 Ya Eat SEE 5] 6
WVIASeellaNCOUS eee ees ee ee one ee een ees ce ee | eee sd Eee ee ee ee 1
DORAL rae cae ane eee ee Se ee 30 7 6 8 2 8 61

1 Data secured from Agency Office, July 1960.
Fe er ee
SEE Patna eT Pe

The range in the size of these businesses is great. The taxi serv-
ice involves no more than the ownership of a vehicle. The net income
from this type of operation is low, although taxi owners do not pay the
3 percent levy to the tribe as the others do. On the other hand, the
gross income figures reported for two of the larger operations for 1959
were $307,131.35 and $96,220.78.

Associated with the tourist industry, but separate from it in the
technical sense, are crafts. Beadwork, basketmaking, and wood-
carving are the main ones. Estimates of incomes derived from these
crafts are difficult to make, for much depends upon the inclination
of the individual. Crafts are sold either to the Qualla Cooperative
or to the individual craft shops. Some are taken over to Asheville

and Gatlinburg. In addition to the wholesale price for their work,

No 78], )~)s EASTERN CHEROKEE GROUPS—KUPFERER 239

Qualla Cooperative members receive a dividend check based upon
the profits of the organization. At one meeting checks were dis-
tributed ranging in amounts from $2 to $60. A near-White Indian
boy has earned as much as $40 a week from woodcarving. An
industrious basketmaker earns somewhat less, for if she uses cane,
the material is usually purchased. It does not grow near Cherokee.

Two White-owned-and-managed industries are present on the

reservation. Saddlecraft, Inc., which manufactures moccasins and
a few other items, employs 49 people in the plant and 55 fireside
workers. ‘This business rents an old dairy barn from the tribe, but
it is constructing a new building with funds lent to it by the tribe.
Harns Manufacturing Co., which makes quilted products and padded
infant accessories, is housed in a modern building which was erected
with tribal funds. The company has a 25-year lease with a renewal
option. At present it has 102 employees who are paid $1 per hour
under a training program, of which the Federal Government pays
part. The building is capable of housing 300 workers. Together
the two provide a weekly payroll of $8,000. However, all of this
does not go to Indian employees, as each business has a few White
workers. In regard to this a mother of an Indian employee asked
me:
“How come White people down there get paid more than Indians?” ‘Well,
I don’t know,” I replied, ‘‘unless they are men who came with the plant as manage-
ment.” ‘No sir,” she said, “these are two White girls from Sylva and they are
getting $1.25 and they just got hired. I know that they can hire White if they
can’t find Indians who can do the work, but they all oughta git [sic] paid the
same.”

Other people work for the Government either as Indian Bureau
employees or as seasonal employees of the Park. Still others are
hired by the tribe as policemen, firemen, and sanitation workers.

In addition to earned income, some Indians are recipients of public
welfare aid from the counties in which they live. To receive it they
must qualify in one of three categories: aid to dependent children,
old age assistance, or aid to the permanently disabled and handi-
capped. For those who are not eligible for public assistance, a
special Federal Indian welfare program is available. This service
is administered by two trained caseworkers who also do family
counseling. The expenditures from these funds for the fiscal year
ending in 1960 are shown in table 6 and correspond with the tourist
season in amounts expended.

Estimates of family income are most irregular. A current figure
was set at an average of $1,662 (Anonymous, 1961); another made
available to the public listed the average income of rural families as
$600 (Cherokee Historical Association, 1960, p. 4).

240 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Buuy. 196

TABLE 6.—Federal Indian welfare expenditures, fiscal year 1960 }

Month Amount ?

PU tS a re ee ee SA ee $4, 474
Ja (TELE tpn sagt iabmpetercn i, ich eareg lapel ema sp FA ag Spee 2 i 4, 433
Nppipniber st Yan re. servo. fey cenyhe 1) 00 Dohme of restos oe Fag ee ee 3, 848
Ot ae se ge ge Sh ee 7,679
Jb R) S40 32) Gewese gases “tlle deleted defaced cesta xpath eneedy Nagra Dy ay bythe 12, 613
Decemberyasuses 20 sey9 ee pietec yeh oe vise sy ATU Eyeeryel tee 13, 401
ACTS, ae eh Se ne Rae Se eee ee eee ee eee Eee vOnne 13, 495
IE) OEE (rental Perle, Lele hele Paheecxeeglah Pratche Dityat afte Magen see BE La spit 13, 850
Manche) bb uaphte cree? i os tape fy lye pe Be oupee roms) part 14, 457
1. C1 | Re Pee eres. ee aay Lee er Maem mY toe rae Oe crn pe Or 13, 365
EE fing AR al ay pi peng hh i sf a trachea hs 10, 173
Juunie i tule. Bley teers ive bey ohh mareonbey rails AB ee tees Vet 2, 617

LG) G2 bate: ape lhe pial tare aan nes apiece Popa De ae te mY aI bode $114, 405

1 Data secured from Welfare and Family Counseling Office, July 1960.
2 Add approximately $200 per month for emergencies.

NOT BY BREAD ALONE

The religious life of the people is provided for by 21 churches. In

addition to 15 Baptist churches, there are 3 Methodist, 1 Pentecostal
Holiness, 1 Catholic, and 1 Episcopal. During the summer several
tent sects move in for a week or two. Many of the churches provide
used clothing either for nothing or for a very nominal fee. Weekly
prayer meetings are held, sometimes in the church and sometimes in
the homes of parishioners. Notes taken after a prayer meeting in a
home in Big Cove describe it thus:
We entered an oil-illuminated room with three double beds in it. The walls
were lined with cardboard taken from packing boxes. Nan Driver was sitting on
the edge of a bed, crutches nearby and her one leg dangled from a soiled dress.
Her husband was there. Numerous children sat in the shadows, almost in-
distinguishable from the lumps of blankets. There were eight other adults
present. The meeting opened with hymns, some of which were sung in Cherokee.
The preacher started his sermon which gradually reached a rythmic crescendo in
which we were exhorted to love God and quit sinning. The room was very hot.
During the most enthusiastic part of the sermon several of the men dozed on
benches at the side of the room. At the conclusion prayers were said in Cherokee
by some of those in attendance. We arose and walked around the circle and
shook hands with everyone else. The handgrip was limp with a jerky up and
down motion.

In general, the churches follow community orientation. Some have
predominantly fullblood communicants, and others have mixblood
congregations. The Catholic Church serves its largest numbers
during the summer when travelers avail themselves of services.

At present, recreation is largely physical. There is a softball
league in the summer, and each community has an entry. Little

No 7s). )~=s«XEASTERN CHEROKEE GROUPS—KUPFERER 241
League baseball or a variant of it was started during the summer of
1960. The school custodians were the team managers. After
several sessions of general practice, they met early in the summer to
bid for players with the points allotted to them. Consequently, the
little league teams are not community entries. The director of the
program stated that Big Cove was not as well represented with
children as were the other communities.

Indian ball is played during the Indian Fair in October and at least
once or twice during the summer. In the summer of 1959 regular
games were scheduled and interest was high. Several games eventu-
ated in injuries to the players and squabbles among some fullblood
women spectators.

The high school has teams in the three major sports, and the foot-
ball games and basketball games are well attended. However,
observations made at several basketball games suggest that many
utilize the occasion for visiting as much as for appreciation of the
game.

Much of the leisure of Conservative women is occupied with visit-
ing. Some make baskets together, talking softly between long
periods of silence; others may bring their washing to the home of one
who has a machine. Perhaps working together lessens the load.

AS OTHERS SEE THEM

A description of the milieu in which the Indians live is incomplete
without some notion of the esteem in which they are held by their
White neighbors. The Cherokee are forced into interaction with
Whites, and at least part of their behavior and their self-image is
conditioned by this interaction. The Whites act toward Indians in
accordance with the opinion held by them. Thus the White behavior
stimulates Indian reaction. This web of interaction produces a
feedback which reinforces attitudes and behaviors of both the Indians
and the Whites.

The Whites who surround the reservation are not of the same
strata. They can be classified into three categories, one of which is
the local power—professional people and businessmen—of Jackson
and Swain Counties. Most of these people are native to the area.
The second category is comprised of Federal employees, many of
whom are not native to the area. The final stratum includes traders,
missionaries, and farmers whose land is adjacent to the reservation.
The farmers (old residents of the area) can, in turn, be divided into
two groups. There is one group which operates modern farms with
as much mechanization as the terrain will allow. Their stock is
good, and their homes and farm buildings are substantial. Others
farm marginal land off the main roads. This latter group is diminish-

242 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Bunn. 196

ing in numbers. To the extent that there are characteristics typical
of rural mountain people, they retain them. The generalizations to
be drawn do not include comments from these people.

These three categories of Whites express somewhat different
attitudes toward the Cherokee; some are more critical of certain
“Indian traits’ than others are. Yet, they are in substantial agree-
ment on most points. Typical of all these people is a certainty that
there is an Indian way of behaving. This behavior, they argue, is
different from the way White people comport themselves. Indians,
they say, are sexually promiscuous (although, they state some of the
Whites in the hills are, too). Indians are inclined to be dirty and
shiftless. ‘They have large families which they are unable to support,
and they constitute a drain on the county’s financial resources. They
are “devils when they are drunk.” They live from day to day with
no planning for the future. In spite of such stereotypic pronounce-
ments, some respondents add that they are not all this way.

The observer is not made acutely conscious of race prejudice or
discriminatory activity. All the local community schools now have
Indian pupils or will admit them. Nevertheless, many Whites
imply that they have some reservations about Indian-White marriages
except in the cases where the Indian spouse is nearly White and is
prosperous. The farmers appear to be more race conscious than the
others. ‘‘No matter how White some of them get, Indian ways will
crop out,” is a sentiment often expressed by farmers.

The Government is blamed by almost all of the respondents for
the deplorable state of the Indians. As a result of Federal inter-
vention and protection, the Indians have been drained of initiative.
Because of the Government, they are lazy and look to a benevolent
and paternalistic agency for support. Some add to this belief the
opinion that Indians are naturally perverse and that the combination
has produced this ‘‘sorry mess.’

IDEAL TYPES

I have reviewed the development of a heterogeneous society from
one which, in 1838, was almost homogeneous. Changes in Indian
inheritance, occupation, and land use were described. It is now
necessary to examine the covert and less tangible aspects of the way
of life of the people. In the pages to follow, I shall present representa-
tive portraits of typical Cherokees to illustrate Thomas’ postulated
continuum. ‘The reader will recall that one of the tasks of this investi-
gation is an appraisal of the accuracy of the typology. Is it suffi-
ciently precise to depict the diversity among the people at Cherokee?

AoTte; t{’) «EASTERN CHEROKEE GROUPS—KUPFERER 243

THE TYPOLOGY AS AN APPROACH TO
CULTURAL DIFFERENTIATION

Interest in the differential development of once-homogeneous
groups is not without precedent. Latin American scholars have
attended to this question at great length.’ With the exception of
the Pueblo tribes, the presence of subgroups with differing cultural
orientations is probably a feature of most North American Indian
reservations at present. Scudder Mekeel (1936, pp. 5-6) called
attention to this segmenting tendency. Among 932 Oglala of the
Teton Dakota tribe, three different strata existed. ‘These were
“divided not only according to generation but also according to the
particular way of getting a living which was in vogue during the
impressionable years of those within the given stratum.”’ The first
group was old; it remembered the hide tipi, it had counted coup and
hunted buffalo, and it yearned for the old life. The second group
knew of the old life only through tales. ‘Their minds were tuned
to a parasitic life due to treaty rations.” The third group was better
educated. It knew of neither of the above-mentioned experiences.
It resented the leadership of the older men, and thought ‘it could
handle Washington better.” Some of the members of this group
were making a genuine effort to support themselves.

Mekeel’s work was early and crude in its categorizing, but it pre-
saged a flood of research using the basic notion of social gradients.
Outstanding among these scholarly productions is the work of Irving
Hallowell, which is based upon groups who at one time participated in
a common Ojibwa culture. To examine changes in personality or-
ganization which, he hypothesized, might derive from acculturation
pressures, he divided the Ojibwa into four groups. The groups
represented four different communities: three in Canada, and one in
the United States. They were placed on a scale of acculturation
proceeding from level one, the least acculturated, through level four,
the most modernized. The identification of these categories was made
on an impressionistic basis (Hallowell, 1952, pp. 106-107).

George D. Spindler (1955, p. 6) comments on Hallowell’s impres-
sionistic differentiation of levels of acculturation, stating that this
basis of ordering is only partly explicit and is, therefore, subject to no
critical test of validation. Admitting that this method may be
appropriate to samples drawn from distinct areas, he questions its
application to a single population on one reservation. In such a
situation the attributes used to place individuals on a scale must be

11 See, for example, Redfield, 1941, p. 13: ‘In short, the Yucatan, considered as one moves from Merida
southeastward into forest hinterland, presents a sort of social gradient in which the Spanish, modern and
urban, gives way to the Maya, archaic and primitive.’”” Others who have dealt with Latin American
typology construction are Wolf, 1955, pp. 452-469, and Wagley and Harris, 1955, pp. 428-429.

244 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 196

made explicit (ibid.). Consequently, Spindler employed a schedule
including amount and source of income, type of home, knowledge of
Menomini language, belief in native lore and medicine, and religious
and group affiliations. In an analysis of the data, he found that sorting
by these variables resulted in grouping unlike individuals. Therefore,
religious affiliations, which are structured groups, were selected as the
classifying device. Among the Menomini he identified four cate-
gories: Medicine Lodge-dream dance group; Peyote cult group; a
category of persons in transition; and members of the Catholic Church
who were subdivided on the basis of socioeconomic status (ibid., pp.
12-14). These four segments were examined for association with other
sociocultural indices and with psychological data.”

Fred Voget (1952, pp. 89-92) posited a continuum which, with but
few modifications, he applied to three North American Indian tribes.
There are four sociocultural groups among the Crow: native, native
modified, American modified, and American marginal. The mar-
ginality of the fourth group stems from local discriminatory activity
of surrounding Whites toward Indians of mixed ancestry. On an
Troquois reservation, Voget (1951, p. 222) identified three groups:
native modified, Euro-American modified, and Euro-American mar-
ginal. There is no native segment.

From his work on the Shoshone (1950, p. 53), he asserts that ‘‘The
contact of cultures of differential complexity has produced not only
social and cultural disintegration of the less complex but new social
categories and cultural integrations.’? Among the Shoshone the new
social categories are: native, native modified, White modified, and
White.

Postulations of unilinear continua of acculturation have not gone
unchallenged. At least one writer (Polgar, 1960, p. 233) states that
his data suggest that a state of stabilized pluralism exists among the
Mesquakie. He confined his major observation to boys and found
that they are socialized into Mesquakie and White culture simul-
taneously. Biculturation is both process and end result at the Tama
Reservation. In the evaluation of this study and the criticism of the
lineal analyses which it makes, two factors should be taken into ac-
count. The Tama community is composed of only 500 Indians of all
ages and both sexes. There are but 3,000 acres in the reservation. The
economic base is similar for the largest number of wage earners (ibid.,
pp. 217-218). Given these conditions, the emergence of disparate
groups with different cultural content could hardly be anticipated.
The Tama people seem to resemble the Makah as Elizabeth Colson

12 For amplification of this continuum and further uses of it, see Spindler and Goldschmidt, 1952, pp. 68-73,
and Spindler, 1952, pp. 151-159.

No 78). ~~) «EASTERN CHEROKEE GROUPS—KUPFERER 245

describes them (1953, p. 280). She finds that they are a single group
which, although having a body of tradition not shared with Whites,
have been successfully assimilated to the extent that the forms of their
current culture are largely derived from Whites.

THE THOMAS CONTINUUM

Throughout this paper certain of the Cherokee have been referred
to as ‘fullblood’’—the term has carried a connotation of traditional
or Conservative Indian. Biologically, the term is misleading as, of
course, blood has no relation to genes. The term is used because the
Indians refer to themselves in degrees of blood and the expression has
been adopted by census recorders and the Bureau of Indian Affairs per-
sonnel. ‘Fullblood”’ is also misleading culturally, for not all fullbloods
are traditional and, conversely, not all mixbloods are oriented toward
White viewpoints. There is, nevertheless, a tendency for more of
the fullbloods to be conservative in their outlook, and for those of
mixed ancestry (particularly under three-fourths or one-half) to be
more ‘‘progressive”’ in theirs.

As stated on page 224, the Thomas continuum is composed of Conserv-
atives, Generalized Indians, Rural White Indians, and Middle Class
Indians. Although one might quarrel with the labels, they will
suffice for the present. Thomas depicts the Conservative Cherokee
as being much like the early contact Indian, as he can be understood
from early literature. He conceives of himself as a ‘different order
of man from the rest of the world.’”’ He verbalizes a few White
values from time to time, such as “Don’t drink and don’t gamble.”
But, most often, he lives by Cherokee values and gives expression
to them. According to Thomas (MS. a, p. 22), in his behavior he is
still the stoicred man. His basic personality has remained unchanged.
He prefers to speak Cherokee and regards generosity as a prime virtue.
As seen through his eyes, the population of the reservation is divided
into only two groups: Indians, of which he is a member, and White-
Indians. The latter are not part of his community. Conservatives
are frightened of White people, but they are not apprehensive about
White opinions of them. White-Indians as a whole are disliked by
Conservatives.

“Generalized Indian,” a term coined by Thomas, is similar in
connotation to Spindler’s “transitional group” and somewhere in
between the ‘‘native modified’ and “American modified” of Voget.
He considers himself as an Indian, but also as an American. This
is an important distinction between the Generalized Indian and the
Conservative. He is impelled toward White ways rather than Indian
ways. Inconsistencies in enunciations of values are characteristic
ofhim. This category is difficult to define. The difficulty is apparent

246 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Buny. 196

in Thomas’ construct. Therefore, direct quotation may further the
comprehension of a blurry picture.

He is much more inconsistent in regard to how he verbalizes value and world
view than the Conservative. And individuals in this group vary as to the extent
of how much white values and how much Indian values they verbalize. Be-
haviorwise they generally behave as if they still believed in the old Cherokee
values and view of the world . . . there is a range in this group as to how many
white values they have internalized. Overtly, their personality seems more
“open” than the Conservatives. They are friendly and open to whites and Indian
strangers. Perhaps because they are much more anxious about their relations
with whites, they seem to have less emotional control than Conservatives. .. .
They have ceased to use Cherokee because it seems to serve no purpose in the
modern world. Most of them still believe in Indian medicine, although they
don’t like to admit it... the institution which most exemplifies Cherokee
values, the Free Labor Society, they preserve. [Ibid., p. 22]

The Rural-White category is almost self-explanatory. First and
foremost, the individuals in it are nearly White; in some instances
Indian inheritance is not visible at all. They are very much like the
rural White people of the area surrounding the reservation. The
Conservatives define them as White, and, by this definition, they do
not belong on the reservation. According to Thomas, one reaction
to this is often defensiveness and guilt about their status. Some,
however, do not seem to care as long as they are left alone. They
seldom belong to a Free Labor society. It is doubtful whether some
of these people have any Indian ancestry (ibid., p. 23).

The fourth group, and the most recent to develop, is the Middle
Class. ‘The bulk of these people are nearly White, but there are some
who arenot. Members of this category have their origins either in the
Rural White group or the Generalized Indian segment of a generation
ago. Their major occupation is business. Thomas states that the
near White Middle Class people identify with the entire community
in an attenuated manner; most of their ties are outside of the com-
munity. The segment deriving from the Generalized Indians iden-
tifies with the community and is “intellectually”? Indian. These
people interact with Whites of their class level. Ideologically and
behaviorally, they seem to resemble Whites. In personality organi-
zation, Thomas (ibid., pp. 23-24) says that they show similarities
to the Generalized Indians, but they are more stable and more
sophisticated.

The outline which Thomas has given us discloses a skeleton of
acculturative types. To further illustrate his concept, we will
present a composite picture of a family in each of the four categories,
both for the purpose of enriching the preceding description and to
propose a series of ideal types to use as a benchmark from which to
judge our data.

Antagor. Par. EASTERN CHEROKEE GROUPS—KUPFERER 247

The use of ideal types as a methodological tool stems from the
work of Max Weber, appearing in his essays on religion and bureauc-
racy. “Ideal” does not, in this case, refer to an exemplary type but
to a pure or abstract one. It is a conceptual scheme to expedite
understanding (Weber, 1958, p. 59).%

Redfield puts this concept to use in his study of the problem of
folk-urban relationships. He says:

With others, I have found the imagined construction of a generalized typical
primitive or folk society useful in directing attention to certain kinds of questions
about societies and people. The conception asks special questions; it does not
answer these; only particular facts can do that. ([Redfield, 1953, p. 224.]

To be sure, Redfield deals with societies and in no way can the Chero-
kee types be regarded as societies or communities, but to the extent
that our types exist in a culturally definable manner, the concept is
heuristic.

The research of George and Louise Spindler (1957, pp. 147-149)
seems to be a case in point. Although they perceive their descriptions
of certain personality types among American Indians to be reasonable
hypotheses, in fact the authors seem to be postulating ideal or pure
types. They say that a study of the variation from their core of
psychological features will lead to greater understanding of the
behavior of Indians, both historically and in the present.

PORTRAITS OF FOUR FAMILIES

JOHN AND LIZA RUNNER (CONSERVATIVE)

About 50 yards away from a dirt and gravel road there is a three-
room house perched precariously on four columns of rocks. Only
the weight of the house assures its continuous contact with the
foundation. The framing is largely of two-by-fours; some of the
joists and rafters are two-by-sixes. All of it is rough-sawed lumber
from the local mill. The exterior siding is of oak slabs covered with
tar paper. The interior is lined with pieces of cardboard from packing
boxes. The labels Carnation Milk, Keliogg’s Cereal, and Campbell’s
Tomato Soup, add the only color to the drab surface. In two of the
rooms there are two double beds and an iron cot. A wood-burning
iron stove occupies a corner of the “front’’ room. The stovepipe
makes its erratic way to a hole cut in the outside wall, providing a
hot and dry spot for an unceasing accumulation of wet diapers. A
large wood- coal-burning range in the kitchen is the only kitchen
appliance. It is lighted at least twice a day to prepare meals for the
family. In winter it is another source of heat, but in summer it

13 See also Bendix, 1960, p. 281; ‘‘T'ypological simplifications . . . these models are artifacts of the re-
searcher based on historical materials.’

248 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Buy. 196

creates an oppressive atmosphere in the small kitchen. Near the
stove are a table and an odd assortment of chairs. Fuel for the
stove is cut from the wooded uphill land behind the house; seldom is
there a large supply of cut wood for it. More often wood is cut as
needed, so that in wet or dry weather one of the Runners can usually
be found “getting in some wood.” John and the older boys bring
it down from the mountain, but Liza frequently splits it.

A small spring courses down from the mountain near the house;
its travel is interrupted by a half-circular dam over which the water
continues to flow. Here Liza does her washing, the little children
play, and several ducks take their noisy turn in the water. A kitchen
garden is in the small flatland beyond the brook. John seldom works
in it, except to do the initial soil preparation. Liza really ‘‘makes”’
the garden.

John sits on the porch during the first days of spring; such days
are warm with an ethereal quality. In the summer, he sits there
after work. Liza joins him when her work is done, or she makes her
baskets there. They break the silence to exchange comments,
murmuring in Cherokee. The little children sometimes play there
too, pushing a battered toy over the rough boards. The porch
affords a view of the road, and John rocks forward on his straight
chair to watch either a neighbor or a stranger passing along it.

John Runner works about 6 months out of the year for the Park
Department as a wage laborer. One of his sons works as a guide in
the Indian village during the summer. Liza supplements the family
income by making oak-split baskets. Some welfare assistance is
provided during the winter when John is idle. The Runners are in
their late 30’s, but they have a large family, as they were married
before they were 20. There are three older boys; one is in the ninth
grade and two have dropped out of school. John is the “bread
daddy” but not the “real daddy” of the oldest boy. Three girls
between 7 and 12, a 4-year-old, and a baby of about 15 months make
up the rest of the family. The older boys have little to do around
the house. Liza is glad that one of the girls is finally old enough to
help with the washing, and she does all the cooking when Liza is
menstruating. Liza has been worried about John and the boys
eating her cooking when she was “‘that way.’”’? When the Runners
go to a box social, or down to Cherokee to play Indian ball, Liza
carries the baby on her back anchored there by a sheet or a blanket.

John attended boarding school through the fourth grade, but he
did not like it. Despite the fact that he was made to wear a girl’s
dress to keep him from running away, he succeeded in escaping from
school. Liza attended school a year longer than her husband did.

No 78). )~)C EASTERN CHEROKEE GROUPS—KUPFERER 249

John and Liza believe in signs, and many of their coping techniques
are of the sympathetic or contagious variety of magic. Although
they have never seen a witch themselves, they are sure there are
witches, for they know people who have seen them. One day Liza
was berrying on top of the mountain when she saw a large snake.
She was frightened, left her picking, and came home to tell John about
it. He told her that it was not a snake, it was a sign; and “sure
enough, the next week one of her relatives died.”

In the old days, before Will West Long died, John and Liza used to
go to the Indian dances, but now there is no one left who can lead
them.

Liza is concerned about the health of her children. All of the
young ones have had Salk vaccine and other preventive inoculations
which are given in the clinic. However, she thinks that Indian
doctors know more about babies than White doctors do. One of
hers had hives. ‘Hives are something inside the baby which makes
him irritable and at night he cries and tosses in his sleep. White
doctors know nothing about this condition. We took him to an
Indian doctor and that baby got all right.” John and Liza fondle
the young ones, and the baby is always held, patted, or nursed.
He never crawls about on the floor. His hair is long, because to cut it
before he walks would make him grow up weak. Liza doctors the
children at home, too, with Vicks or aspirin, and takes them down to
the hospital for shots. She has great faith in the power of injections.
But, she says, “Going to an Indian doctor is just like going to a White
doctor. The Indian doctor asks you questions too, and gives you
herb tea—and with him you get it all—not pushed down into a pill.”

When the children get too obstreperous, Liza warns them that a
booger will get them, or, what is probably worse, a “unega’’ (White
person) will get them. On rare occasions some of the bigger ones
may get switched. The three older boys often spend nights away
from home. Neither John nor Liza know where they are, and, unless
the absence is protracted, don’t worry about it. Children are in-
variably sent to ask for favors or to borrow something for their
parents. Liza’s sister often acts in the same capacity for her. Liza
participates in the gossip of the area and passes it on.

John and Liza are not politically active, but they go to Qualla Club
meetings. John wants to see a fullblood council. He feels pretty
certain that some men who might run for chief or council are for the
White Indians. “The White Indians have all the money and they’d
like to get the land allotted.” John doesn’t have much money; his
car was repossessed a few months ago because he was five payments in
arrears. He plans to get another as soon as he can get money for a
downpayment.

250 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLy. 196

Although they are poor, a place is set at the table for everyone.
Liza never formally extends an invitation; that everyone will eat is a
matter of fact. In the summer, flies and bees join the diners. Pigs’
necks and backs, greens, and cornbread or bean bread, if Liza has had
time to grind the corn in her log mortar, may be the fare. Leftovers
are thrown to the six dogs who lurk under the house and bark fiercely
at strangers. They stop barking and cringe, beating the ground with
their tails, at a gesture from John.

Liza sometimes hopes she will not have any more children. She
nurses the babies for several years, for she believes that this practice
will prevent conception. After her first baby was born, her mother,
who delivered it, buried the afterbirth several mountain ridges away in
order to be sure that the other pregnancies would be several years
apart. Liza does not like to have her babies in the hospital, but the
last four were born there.

Visits with the Runners were unrushed, conversations were inter-
spersed with periods of comfortable silence. They do not plan much
for the future, and they do not expect it to be much different from the
present. Nights follow the days and the seasons grow out of each
other in a changeless pattern. Although game is scarce, there are
fish in the river to catch, gardens to make, children to raise, and the
dead to be buried.

GEORGE AND EMMA WEAVER (GENERALIZED INDIANS)

The Bureau of Indian Affairs maintains a limited number of frame-
houses for its employees. It is in such a house as this that George and
his wife, Emma, live. There are five rooms and a bath. The yard is
fenced to provide a barrier between it and the highway which runs
east and west. Occasionally damaged toys lie about in the yard.

George is a year-round employee of the Bureau. He accumulates
annual leave and, as a civil service worker, will eventually retire on a
pension. His wife works during the summer in the tourist industry.
Their combined efforts result in more than a hundred dollars a week
during the summer. But they have little money saved. One reason
is, of course, their large family, but another is their generosity with
their children. A trip to the store always involves cokes and candy
for the youngsters. The children are the delight of George and Emma,
who express their affection for them openly. After they had torn
some of the new screens off the house, George remonstrated with them
mildly. Emma complains that George has the little ones spoiled
“rotten.” He is seldom seen off the job without at least two or three
of his youngest.

The three oldest boys established a reputation in sports during
their Cherokee High School careers. One accepted an athletic

No ws PaP. EASTERN CHEROKEE GROUPS—KUPFERER 251

scholarship at a neighboring State university. George had high
hopes for him and wanted him to finish his “lessons” before he thought
about girls. Nevertheless, Bill married in November of his first
year of college. His wife moved in with the Weavers. Bill did not
return to school after January, and his son was born in April. George
was disappointed at the terminated career, but he said they had a
“real nice church wedding” instead of sneaking away to Georgia to
a Justice of the Peace. One of the things that bothered George
was the attitude of some of the people around. Because Bill was
making something of himself, they would hardly speak to him and
Kmma.

George travels up to Big Cove often. He worked up there until he
was transferred to his current location. George worries about those
“folks up in the Cove.’”’ They are so poor. “Guess they don’t
think about dollars and cents the way I do. If they get a little
money, they spend it; if they don’t get any, they get along. Me I
got a good job, I get a regular wage, yet I worry.”

An additional benefit accrues to George, for he is a veteran of
World War II. Accordingly, he uses the Veterans Administration
Hospital near Asheville if he requires prolonged medical help. He
had to take his 3-year-old boy in to Asheville to the hospital after
he fractured his skull in a fall in the schoolyard.

George and Emma went to the ‘‘set up” (wake) for Bird Partridge.
“He was a real ‘old timey’ Indian, and there are few of them left
any more.” People around Big Cove still went to him for “doctoring’’
occasionally, but George prefers White doctors. There is a lush
growth of poison ivy around the house. The children often have
some sort of white salve, which Emma procures from the Public
Health hospital, smeared on the blisters. She tried crushing some
ragweed on the uritations, but it did not seem to help much.

George, as president of the Community Club, goes to Raleigh
occasionally for meetings on community development programs. He
does not like to go in the summer, “‘Us people who are used to the
mountains suffer from the heat down there.”

Land allotment is a subject which comes up often. George does
not approve of the idea. ‘The old Indians just couldn’t handle the
situation.”” Because of this sentiment, he supports the candidate
for chief who represents the interests of the Conservatives. Actually,
he feels that his own best interests are protected by this candidate,
too, for “the White Indians are behind the other man.”

George is not given to long pauses and reflections in his speech
patterns; neither does he speak Cherokee, although he can under-
stand some of the conversation of Conservatives.

252 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Buuy. 196

As long as he stays in the civil service, his financial future is rela-
tively secure, although he will probably not be able to save very
much money. His three oldest children already have more education
than he has. However, he says, ‘They really put it to us in boarding
school, maybe better than they teach the kids now. I know I forgot
most of the Cherokee language while I was there.”” George’s status
will not change much in the years to come, but he has hopes for his
children and wants them to ‘‘amount to something.”’

ED AND MARTHA MCVEY (RURAL WHITE)

In a small section of bottom land, yards of unbleached cloth appear
in early spring. The cloth shelters tobacco seedlings which are to be
transplanted to a field which is three-tenths of an acre. The plants
are tended carefully, because Burley tobacco is Ed McVey’s cash crop.
A hundred yards away from the tobacco bed is a five-room framehouse.
Originally it was a clapboard structure; now it is covered with asphalt
shingles of imitation brick. Surrounding the house are farm out-
buildings: a corncrib, a pigpen, a woodshed, and a small log barn.
Near the barn is a well-used pickup truck, the only piece of mechanized
farm equipment. Mules draw the plow, the cultivator, and the manure
spreader. In the open barn two milk cows ruminate; a brood sow
snuffles noisily in her pen nearby. The chickens wander unconfined
over the yard and on the porch of the house.

At the edge of the road which winds into the farm is a green and
white sign designating this farm as an “Honor Farm.” Ed is a good
farmer, but he suffers from the limitations of small farms everywhere.
Ed cannot imagine himself doing anything else but farming. His
elderly father, who lives with him, farmed the place before him, and it
appears certain that his sons will attempt to follow the pattern. They
are enrolled in the agricultural courses in the Cherokee High School.
In spring and fall, the busiest seasons on a farm, they often miss a
week of more of school in order to get the crops planted or to harvest
them.

In addition to the tobacco, a field of potatoes is always planted.
The yield is generally more than sufficient for the family; the surplus
is sold to village restaurants. Field corn is always grown, for the less
cash Ed must put out for feed for the stock, the more sufficient the
farm is. The products of the farm and kitchen garden meet basic
food needs for the family. Two or three young pigs are butchered
throughout the winter; the extras are sold as weaners. Enough flour
corn is grown to provide cornmeal for the winter. They have it
ground as they need it, in Whittier or Bryson City. Martha cans
beans, tomatoes, and wild berries in quantity. Despite their best

ao epee EASTERN CHEROKEE GROUPS—KUPFERER 253
efforts, cash is always in short supply, so Ed does some carpentry
work during the winter.

There are eight McVey children. The oldest, Tom, is married to a
girl who is nearly “fullblood.” He has some land adjoining his
father’s; he farms this and also some land belonging to his father.
Bertha, the oldest daughter, graduated from high school this year.
She started to work at the Harn plant soon after school closed. The
rest of the children, except the baby, are in school. ‘And they will
stay there until they finish, if I have to take a belt to them,” Ed said.
There are some things being taught that Ed and Martha do not
understand. ‘Don’t seem like they need algebra and subjects like
that.” High school diplomas are important goals to Ed, and he
believes that “It would be nice if one of the younger girls could take up
nursing or typing. The boys reckon they’ll farm like their Daddy.”
Ed needs them, too, because his rheumatism cripples him from time to
time. He comments on being an old man at 50.

He is a regular patient at the Public Health hospital because of his
rheumatoid condition. On one occasion he was sent over to Asheville
for extensive X-rays. The McVeys use the health facilities and
services regularly. The baby suffers from asthma and is also under
treatment at the hospital. Martha takes care of the colds at home
with patent medicines. Once in a while she brews some herbal
infusion which she said her grandmother used to use. Ed does not
object to it, but he contends that ‘“He’d be damned if he’d have one
of them conjurers spittin’ and blowin’ over him or his kids.”

The life of this family revolves around the farm and associated
activities. Martha belongs to a Home Demonstration Club and
attends monthly meetings. Several of the children are in 4—H clubs.
One of the boys received a scholarship to go to a 4-H camp near
Asheville. Ed scans the sky, hoping for rain during dry spells; he
worries that the seed will rot after a week of rain. He never misses
the noon farm and market reports.

Tribal politics do not concern the McVeys often, especially now
that the blood degree for tribal membership has been settled. In the
period when efforts were made to establish a lower limit of 4 Indian
inheritance for membership, Ed was in the audience at council meet-
ings. Ed and Martha are on the 1924 Roll, but their children could
not have been enrolled on the new register.

A few of Ed’s neighbors are “fullbloods” or nearly so. The children
of all the families play together without any adult interference. Ed
has helped out one or two of the families with corn during the winter.
But, he fusses, “‘By damn, they are lazy; some of them couldn’t make
a go of it as a taster in a pie factory.” Martha tries to shut Ed up

747-014-6617

254 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 196

when he gets started on Indians. ‘He don’t mean half of what he
says, but they ain’t much for farming,” she admits.

RICHARD AND POLLY KING (MIDDLE CLASS INDIANS)

The Kings live in Painttown in a six-room framehouse. It is not a
new house; Richard’s father and mother built it many years ago.
Navaho rugs cover the floors; the furniture is old but comfortable.
A television set is perhaps the newest piece in the living room.

The house is far enough away from the highway to accommodate a
20-unit motel and restaurant in front of it. The motel is open the
year round, but the restaurant is operated only from April to October.
Summer is a busy time for the Kings; they are at home only to sleep.
“Keeping a reliable staff is hard,’ Richard says. The younger
Kings help out once in a while, but ‘They are kids and should have
their fun while they can enjoy it.’”’ It is the local help that cannot
be depended upon. ‘‘You can’t run a business with all-Indian help.
You say something to them and they’ll quit without a word.”

Richard and Polly went to Haskell in Kansas, and he worked in
California until the end of the war. They built their business after
the war “in spite of Government and tribal restrictions.’”’ Credit is
difficult to arrange for businesses or buildings which are on the
reservation. ‘They cannot be used for collateral on a loan. If the
land were allotted, it would be much easier to operate a business,
according to Richard. He would like to have the land divided up
and the people given title to their property, for he feels the Govern-
ment dictates too much and has deprived the Indians of initiative.
“The welfare doesn’t help, either. Too many of them are sitting
around and getting paid for it instead of going to where the work is.
Furthermore, if there were not so much aid to dependent children,
there probably wouldn’t be as much illegitimacy as there is.”

Richard belongs to the Cherokee civic clubs and the Chamber of
Commerce. Polly has no time for the Eastern Star during the sum-
mer, but she attends chapter meetings in Bryson City during the
winter. They go over to Knoxville frequently to visit their son
who is attending the University of Tennessee. ‘His grades aren’t
very good,” Polly said. ‘‘They might have been worse if he had
not gone to public school. Perhaps his car interferes with his studies,”’
she added.

The young man who “chiefs” for the King restaurant was sick for
a while. Richard finally pursuaded him to go over to the Public
Health hospital. ‘‘He’d been having some old Indian doctor him.
You just can’t tell these ‘fullbloods’ anything.” The Kings save
their cartons for people to use in their houses. ‘Some of those places

ace ae EASTERN CHEROKEE GROUPS—KUPFERER 255

have cracks big enough to throw a cat through, and they still won’t
come down here and get the cardboard.”’

Richard and Polly are building a new house on deeded land. The
plans include four bedrooms, two baths, and a playroom for the
youngest King. Polly is pleased. with the plans and is eager to
begin furnishing it. “It will be a nice place for the children to bring
their college friends to visit.’”” They had intended to send Paul to
private school this year, but he had’ an appendectomy in the fall,
so they postponed their plans. Polly said, “It would have been
lonesome with both the boys gone and only little Polly home.” The
Kings have all their medical and dental attention in either Bryson
City or Asheville. Richard went to the hospital on the reservation
only once for emergency treatment of a burn.

Richard buys some produce from the McVeys. ‘Ed is a hard
worker, and we are glad to help him out.” Polly takes clothes which
her children have outgrown down to them. She says, “I have never
seen Martha just sitting.”

The Kings are not ‘‘Five-dollar Indians.’”? Some of Polly’s forbears
contributed money to purchase the present reservation. They say
they are proud of their “Indian blood,” but they want the Indians
to progress. As Richard says, ‘I’ve come a long way from my
parents who were farmers right here on these bottoms. There is
no reason why the rest of the people can’t catch up with the times.”

HEALTH AND MEDICAL PRACTICES

Health and medical practices will be discussed both in terms of
preventive and therapeutic health. measures. The evaluation will
cover four areas of investigation: environmental sanitation and home
hygienic practices; Public Health clinic behavior; responses to school
health instruction; and behavior prompted by illness.

ENVIRONMENTAL SANITATION AND HOME HYGIENIC PRACTICES

Even superficial observations indicate marked differences among
the Cherokee with respect to sanitary environments and hygienic
measures. Types of water sources and toilet facilities, general con-
dition of house and grounds, number of occupants per room, and
ordinary health precautions have been used as crude indices of these
differences in sanitary and hygienic practices. On the basis of my
findings, I have identified four categories of families. In category
1 are those families whose sanitary and hygienic practices are totally
inadequate. In category 2 are those families in which some efforts
are made to maintain minimal standards of sanitation and hygiene.
Families in category 3 have standards which are adequate. In

256 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLy. 196

category 4 are those families whose sanitary and hygienic practices
are very adequate. The difference between the last two groups is a
matter of “extras” present in the environment of category 4.

CATEGORY 1. INADEQUATE

This group is found most wanting in the minimal essentials of sani-
tation. The homes are small; the number of rooms is seldom more
than three. Usually the house is of roughhewn lumber. It is either
covered with building paper, or the owner intends to cover it at some
vague time in the future. If it is not a board house, it is constructed
of logs or poles. The yards are littered with debris including rusted
cans, broken bottles, and garbage (some of which is eaten by animals;
the remainder moulders on the ground). A common sight in the yard
is a car which has begun to disintegrate. Chickens, ducks, dogs, and
cats are in dispute over the edible refuse. Their excrement is present
in the vicinity of the house.

The water supply is always a spring or a stream. There are no
plumbing facilities in these houses. Dishwater is tossed out a door.
If there is a privy, it is a surface type which is never treated with
lime. (It should be noted, however, that it is never located near the
water source.) Frequently there is no privy.

The interiors of these houses are similar. There are two or more
double beds in all the rooms. The kitchen often has a cot or single
bed in it. Soiled blankets are commonly wadded up on the beds or
spread in a casual fashion over stained mattresses. Clothing, whether
it be freshly laundered or worn, is piled up on beds or upon other
pieces of furniture. The number of occupants to a bed is contingent
on the size of the family, but since the dwellings are always crowded,
three or four children usually sleep together.

Wood-burning kitchen stoves provide heat for these homes. Aside
from the range, there are no other appliances in the kitchen. Some
families have washing machines, which are kept on the porch. These
are filled by pails of unheated water from the spring.

There are no screens on doors or windows; panes are often broken.
Flies abound during the warm weather, drawn by the decaying
organic matter on the premises. One afternoon I visited a young
Conservative couple who had graduated from the reservation high
school. They have three small children. Flies were everywhere.
The two boys were very soiled. Between bites of bread, they threw
it at each other, then retrieved it from the floor and continued to eat
it. One of the boys got into some baby oil and saturated his head.
He rubbed against the baby. Martha, his mother, said, ‘“‘Don’t get
snot on her.”

cae, EASTERN CHEROKEE GROUPS—KUPFERER Qk

During a visit to another home, a baby was given a bottle (a sup-
plement to breast feeding) which was picked up from the floor and
filled. The baby drank part of it. It was then given to a “yard
baby” who finished it. J discussed worms with Lucy, the mother of
this family. She said that two of her children had “‘killed’’ (passed)
nearly a hundred of them. I asked the cause of the worms. Lucy
answered vaguely, “I don’t know what causes them.’ She is a close
relative of an Indian doctor. The young children are covered with
sores and scabs especially on their heads. Lucy says that these are
enat bites.

A final excerpt from notes of a visit made in 1959 summarizes these
generalizations about sanitation and hygenic practices.

I visited with Dorothy on her porch. The house is a two-room cabin with four
double beds in the front room and a cot in the kitchen. All of them are unmade;
soiled blankets are heaped upon the beds... . the kitchen table had dishes on it.
They appeared to have been unwashed for some time. With the dishes was an

open jar of beans... later I glanced up to see a chicken on the table foraging
among the unwashed dishes. There are nine children and two adults living here.

CATEGORY 2. MINIMAL

The houses in this class are also small in proportion to the number
of residents, but not as crowded as those in category 1. Newer
houses in this group are frequently constructed of cinder block. The
areas directly adjacent to the houses resemble those about which we
have already spoken, but efforts are directed toward maintaining some
semblance of “neatness.”” The yards are often raked or swept.
Although there are no lawns, there are attempts to grow flowers.
Unpenned chickens are kept away from the porch. There is some
litter in the yards, but it does not match the accumulation noted
for the first group. As a probable consequence of this, there are far
fewer flies and many of the houses are screened against them. One
informant reflected a concern about flies when he said, “I think if
people would only screen, there would be less sickness. Flies are
nasty things . . . take Lucy; her children are always sick.”

The interiors of these houses are neater and more varied than are
those of the houses depicted in the first category. Frequently,
linoleum covers the floors. Less often are there beds in all the rooms;
they are made each morning. Several of the kitchens boast refriger-
ators. There is no modern plumbing, but some of the occupants
discuss plans for its installation in the future. One informant said:

I want to get water in my house thissummer . . . . I’m going to build a reservoir
over behind my mother’s house and pipe it down. To dig a well will cost $4.75
per foot and they’d have to go down 700 feet. . . . I don’t want that old sump

water.

258 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Buny. 196

To accomplish this task the pipeline must be extended nearly a
quarter of a mile. In addition, a well-traveled road is in its path.
The plan seems to be unrealistic, and at this writing, no steps have
been taken to implement it.

Another informant, the wife and mother of a Conservative family
living in a type two home, made this statement in June, 1959:

We plan to add a bedroom and shower to the house. Some young people who
helped the community last summer and do what people need, capped the spring.
We got to buy the pipe to get the water down from the reservoir.

At present nothing further has been done.

People in this group frequently mention cleanliness and good
health habits. ° Often, however, a somewhat cavalier attitude is
exhibited in this regard. The 11-year-old daughter of the above-
mentioned informant developed a severely infected foot. My quarters
were near their home, so I was able to observe the entire sequence of
events. The girl rubbed a blister on her heel which went unattended
as she traveled about barefooted. Finally her foot and lower leg
became inflamed, swollen, and very painful. She was taken down to
the reservation hospital late one night. J asked her mother what
caused it; she answered that a blister had caused it. When I brought
the child home from the hospital 3 days later, she had a Band-aid on
her heel and carried two more. During the succeeding days she
continued to go about without shoes. The original bandage loosened
and dangled from one side of her heel. When I asked her when she
was going to replace it with one of the spares, she replied, “Just before
I go back to the hospital.”

A second example of the contrast between verbalizations and actual
behavior regarding cleanliness and health habits comes from a highly
verbal Rural White family whose home is typical of this second
category. Emma, the mother, was concerned because her son,
Richard, was sick. ‘“‘What’s the matter with him?” J asked.

He went fishing Saturday night below the dam without a jacket and he already
had a little cold. Today he took the fever and chills and his teacher sent him
to the hospital.

Later, while visiting Emma, I observed that the baby was given his
bottle after it had been lying on the couch where I had inadvertently
sat on it.

The frequent comments about cleanliness are almost always un-
solicited. Molly, an elderly informant, sometimes cooked breakfast
forme. One day as she washed the breakfast dishes she said:

I always use soap and scald the dishes . . . because it keeps the germs away.
That’s what I learned when I cooked at Berry’s camp and when I cooked in other

places. At Berry’s'camp if one dish got cracked, we had to put it away because
a germ could get ia the crack . . . after he went away we used the cracked ones.

ot ei EASTERN CHEROKEE GROUPS—KUPFERER 259

[I noticed that some of the dishes still had egg and oatmeal on them after she
washed them.] I’ve always been clean and I taught my daughters to be clean.
One sunny morning I was in the company of an informant at the bus
station. We were greeting people as they walked by. She said:
See that taxi driver there from Bryson. He said something about the dirty
Indians . . . If he don’t like Indians why don’t he stay out of here . . . I told
him that too . . . I’m gonna knock him down. Indians are no dirtier than any-
body else. . . . That boy there [her grandson] I never thought he was going to
go up to Jay’s with us. He was so dirty . . . none of my children ever been
dirty.

The women and children of both categories 1 and 2 go barefoot
during the warm months. But regardless of the season, the adults
of category 2 take pains to wash their feet prior to going on a visit
or before going down to the village. Even a trip to the hospital
for the impending arrival of a baby was delayed while the expectant
mother washed her feet!

CATEGORY 3. ADEQUATE

This category of homes is typified by neat exteriors. There are
grassed yards and flower gardens. The interiors are tidy. They
usually have running water and some modern kitchen appliances.
If they do not have plumbing conveniences, plans to install them
materialize with greater regularity than they do in the preceding
eroup. “I haven’t got a toilet now, but I’m going to build one. I’ve
got my blocks for the septic tank.”’

Some of the homes are new, and the owners have been forced by
economic circumstances to postpone the inclusion of facilities which
they regard as important. |
We just built this house a while ago. It’s small; some people call it a doll’s
house. . . . I love to carry water, but we do want a bathroom. We miss
the showers. . . . I have hung my hat on better racks than this.

There are sufficient numbers of rooms for the occupants. Beds are
in bedrooms. Occasionally, in the recently built houses, the kitchen
and front room may be combined. This state of affairs is regarded as
temporary by the owners.

By and large, individuals of this group follow standardized ways of
behaving with respect to hygienic practices. Mr. and Mrs. Smart, a
middle-aged couple, are representative. He is more nearly White
than she is. One day Mrs. Smart told me that she had run a wire into
her arm.. “Polly [her daughter] told me to go to the hospital, but I
said I’d soak it in hot water unless it got bad.” ‘Was it rusty?” I
asked. Her husband, Chick, said, ‘‘Gawd, I stepped on a nail back in
the timber one day. By the time I got in to the doctor, it was all
swole up. ‘Why in hell didn’t you come sooner?’ the doctor said.

260 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Buuu. 196

Gawd, I couldn’t get there no quicker. He gave meashot or two...
in a couple of days I was back working again.”

Others in this category may be less colorful than Mr. Smart, but
their preventive health measures at home are similar. Children are
sent to wash before meals. They are kept home from school if they
exhibit any symptoms of illness, and they visit the dentist twice a
year. If the adults have conditions which require periodic exami-
nations (tuberculosis, diabetes), they are faithful about going.

CATEGORY 4. VERY ADEQUATE

There is a variation in the luxuriousness of dwellings in this group.
However, they all have many elements in common: modern con-
veniences throughout the house, no overcrowding, mowed lawns,
electricity, and modern plumbing. Standards of neatness (not to
be confused with cleanliness) vary. Furnishings vary too; some
houses are elaborately furnished, while others are plain but comfortable.
Those of category 4 share with category 3 a mutual concern for, and
participation in, patterns of behavior which provide typical hygienic
environments. This concern is not stressed verbally unless the con-
versation turns to ‘fullbloods.”’ When this occurs, remarks may be
made about the carelessness of “fullbloods” with regard to hygienic
measures. “I can’t understand these ‘fullbloods’ who work all day
and then come in and eat supper and go to bed. They’d feel so much
better if they bathed.”

Apologies for the condition and appearance of the house are often
extended, seldom with sufficient cause. One unmarried householder
in this category wondered if she were becoming compulsive in her
housekeeping.

To conclude, these are the types of homes in which the Cherokee
live and the ways which they follow in matters of hygiene. Although
we have sorted the environments into four categories, these do not
correspond neatly with Thomas’ four acculturative groups. There are
Conservatives and Rural Whites in category 1; Conservatives, Rural
Whites, and Generalized Indians in category 2; Rural Whites, General-
ized Indians, and some Middle Class in category 3; and category 4
includes the Middle Class, plus a few Rural Whites and Generalized
Indians. (See table 7, p. 274, for a numerical summary of this

distribution.)
CLINIC BEHAVIOR

Associated with the maintenance of healthful surroundings is the
actual day-to-day attention given to disease prevention. This in-
cludes, in addition to ordinary precautions, the utilization of the Public
Health clinics and periodic physical examinations for adults. All

a EASTERN CHEROKEE GROUPS—KUPFERER 261
Cherokee, with the exception of those in the Middle Class, use the
Public Health services.

Well-baby clinics are held once a week in the offices of the Public
Health nurse, and periodically in the Big Cove and Snow Bird com-
munity schools. Mothers are urged to bring in children up to 5 years
of age for periodic checkups. Children attending these clinics receive
inoculations for tetanus, smallpox, diphtheria, whooping cough, and polio.

Two preschool clinics are held each May. All children who are to
be registered in school for the first time must be checked by the
physician. The examination is a cursory one, but it does suffice to
screen gross conditions. It also detects children who have not had
their full set of inoculations. Yearly screening examinations for
tuberculosis are provided for school children, and during the winter
of 1959-60, the children were given flu shots. Consequently, children
who attend reservation schools, regardless of family orientation, are
protected from virulent illnesses.

Since all families, exclusive of the Middle Class, are drawn into the
clinics, we cannot distinguish between groups on the basis of their
use of disease prevention services. Difference does occur, however,
in behavior during clinic visitations, and in attitudes toward inocula-
tions. These behavioral variations make it possible to identify two
distinct groups. These groups are clearly marked by the demeanor
or pose assumed in the clinic, both in the waiting room and in the
dispensary. While waiting to be called, those in the first category
sit quietly outside. Their children, both babies and toddlers, also
sit with solemn expressions. If they speak, it is very softly and often
in Cherokee. Those of the second group laugh and visit noisily with
one another while awaiting their turn. Their children wander about,
talk to others in the waiting room, or thumb through the children’s
books which are provided.

CATEGORY 1. PASSIVE

Both the adults and children in this category are inarticulate and
acquiescent. Although the Public Health nurse greets everyone in a
jocular manner, these people reply to the greeting almost inaudibly.

Their main purpose in bringing children to the well-baby clinic is
for inoculations, which they realize all children must have. They
seldom initiate a discussion of other health matters. If these arise,
they are introduced by the nurse who administers the clinic. For
instance, in the course of administering diptheria and whooping
cough inoculations the nurse said, “Her stomach is puffy; has she
got worms?” ‘The mother replied casually, “I don’t know, she
might have.”

262 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 196

Another common characteristic of people in this group is the failure
to complete a series of inoculations. All of them manage to appear
for an initial injection, but many of them do not reappear within the
stipulated time period. For example, a couple from Big Cove brought
one child into the clinic held in Cherokee. After the small baby was
inoculated, the mother said, “I got another one in the car; maybe it
might need something.”” The record was checked, and it was found
that one inoculation had been administered 2 years before. While
waiting for the second child, the nurse turned to the mother and said,
“Are you eating liver and greens?” There was no answer. The
husband came in with the second child; the nurse spoke to him.
“Don’t you think Ida is looking poorly?” He did not answer.
Finally, after a long pause, he nodded. ‘The nature of the inoculations
was explained to him, and he was told the date on which the children
were to be brought back for the second. He responded by saying
‘Yes’ in a manner peculiar to Conservatives, leaving one in doubt
about their comprehension.

They seldom provide a reason for the neglect in the followthrough
of the protective series. It is difficult to judge how much they
understand of the instructions about further visits, although they
nod when they are told to return in 2 months or 6 months.

Parents also accompany children to the preschool clinic. They
watch without comment the physical examination given by a staff
physician of the Public Health Hospital. When they are questioned,
they respond by nods or in murmured short sentences. On one such
occasion a child refused to open his mouth to have his teeth checked.
The doctor put down his tongue depressor saying, “I’m not going to
fool with him.’”’? The mother said, hesitantly, ‘(He was sick on the
way down. He threw up.” The doctor explained, ‘“That’s because
he didn’t want to come here. It will do that to him. He needs to
get out and meet more people.” The mother made no reply and
left with the child.

The people of the first category are Conservatives. Some of them
attend the clinics irregularly, others are more regular. All of them
are passive participants. Communication emanates from the medical
staff and is largely one way. The Indians speak when spoken to.

CATEGORY 2. ACTIVE

Members of this category are in sharp contrast to those of the first:
They joke with the nurse and pass on local news. They tell children
old enough to understand that “it won’t hurt.’ If a child should
cry, he is frequently told not to ery. Discussions of the inoculations
are common and advice is sought on other matters pertaining to the
children and occasionally to themselves.

a Sa EASTERN CHEROKEE GROUPS—KUPFERER 263

Emily, who had brought a child in for Salk vaccine, mquired about
the next scheduled eye clinic because she thought one of her older
children was experiencing some difficulty in seeing. A second woman
discussed the possibility of taking a child to an orthopedic clinic in
Sylva. Still another brought her nephew in for smallpox vaccination.
She asked the nurse to look at his rupture. After the nurse had re-
moved the diaper to reveal a large hernia of the scrotum, she told the
aunt to take the baby over to a doctor in the hospital very soon.

In the preschool clinic the same behavior prevails. Parents ask
about the results of the examination and respond openly to questions
from either the doctor or the nurse. They make appointments for
dental treatment if conditions warrant attention.

The people in this category are Rural White and Generalized
Indians. They are clearly differentiated from the people in the first
category by their active interest and participation in clinic and health
matters. Conversely, the Conservatives in category 1 are reticent
and compliant in the presence of the professional staff. Their de-
meanor suggests vagueness and a lack of comprehension of the prin-
ciples of immunization. These two categories are clearly distinct,
separating Conservatives from all others by behavior displayed in
the clinics.

RESPONSES TO SCHOOL HEALTH PROGRAMS

Avenues of health instruction, and responses to this instruction, are
present in the schools. One approach is formal health education.
The teachers in the elementary schools devote two or three periods a
week to the teaching of health rules and good health habits. Ele-
mentary anatomy is taught and care of body organs is emphasized.

The other approach is informal in the sense that it is teaching by
precept and by rules of behavior in the school. In each of the elemen-
tary day schools, a custodian spends part of his day washing and polish-
ing the floors and dusting equipment. Children in the first and second
grades remove their shoes and place them in a line at the door of the
classroom. Older children keep their shoes on, with the understand-
ing that they are old enough to wipe their feet before entering the class-
room, and because they are old enough to clean their own rooms. In
three of the elementary schools, provisions are made for the children
to take showers and wash their hair once a week. A teacher, in discuss-
ing the bathing provisions said, “Look around; I’m sure that some of
them have not washed since their last shower.’”’ However, because
there is an emphasis on washing, her statement is not entirely true.
By actual count, all children in one of the schools were sent to wash
their hands four times in one morning.

264 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLy. 196

The responses of the pupils to the classroom health instruction
resemble the patterns of behavior discernible in the public health
clinics. There are two well-defined groups of children in the class-
room. The division is made on the basis of oral recitation. Written
work does not necessarily reveal this distinction.

CATEGORY 1. PASSIVE

The children in category 1 do not, according to the teacher, perform
well orally. If a child is called upon to answer a question, he often
makes no answer at all. If he does respond, it is in such a low voice
that it is audible only to a few children near him. Rarely does he
raise his hand to volunteer an answer.

One morning I observed a health lesson in a combined third and
fourth grade. The class had been divided into committees which
were to report on the care and function of the organs of the body.
The heart committee made the first presentation. Three children
stood up, one holding a book showing a picture of the heart. They
stood with their heads bowed. The teacher urged them to speak.
Finally her coaxing managed to elicit the recommendation, “You
should keep your heart clean.’”? This concluded the report on the
heart! The committee on eyes was represented by a girl who read a
complete report, but she kept her hand over her mouth and spoke in
such a low voice that her speech was inaudible.

Oral performances, such as those discussed above, suggest to the
observer that these children are either very low in ability or suffer
from a language handicap. The quality of their written work, how-
ever, refutes this conclusion. I collected samples of written health
rules from all children whom the teacher rated no lower than average
in ability. The following sets of rules illustrate that the children in
category 1 are capable of doing satisfactory work.

A. Girl, high ability:
1. Brush your teeth twice a day.
2. Drink lots of milk.
3. Take a bath at least twice a week.
4, Eat proper foods.
B. Boy, average ability:
1. Keep clean and neat.
2. Wash real good, wash your hands good.
3. Comb your hair.
C. Girl, better than average ability:
1. Keep our skin clean and look neat.
2. Brush our teeth after every meal.
D. Girl, barely average ability:
1. Learn the rules and follow them.

2. Take out germs on skin.
3. Keep out germs.

a wapai EASTERN CHEROKEE GROUPS—KUPFERER 265

E. Boy, average ability:
1. Take care of your body and eyes.
2. Wash your skin every day so you won’t get sick because you could blow
your nose and you may hurt it.

If we leave the school and follow these children home we find that
here, as well as at school, they are generally reticent. They com-
municate very little of the health information they have been taught
at school. I asked an informant, Frances, whether her nephew ever
told her what he did in school. “Lord, no. You have to ask him
and them he just barely tells you one or two things. The only thing
he ever tells is when he gets a shot. . . then that’s the first thing he
says when he gets home.’ Another parent said that his boy told
him that I had given him a shot at school. The child referred to
blood collection for typing, at which I assisted. Although these
reports of “shots”? can be duplicated over and over, information
beyond this is not imparted.

The children in category 1 are, with two exceptions, from Con-
servative homes. Most of them are either bilingual or understand
Cherokee although they may not speak it. Their comportment in
the classroom is characterized by shyness and unaggressiveness.

CATEGORY 2. ACTIVE

Children making up this group are Rural Whites and Generalized
Indians. During question and answer periods in health class, they
wave their hands eagerly to recite. Often they offer an answer,
right or wrong, without waiting to be called upon. Some of them
correct wrong answers made by their classmates or prompt a ‘‘mute”’
child of category 1.

The committee reports made by members of this group, although
not always complete or accurate, are delivered forthrightly. The
committee which reported on care of the skin came right to the point.
“Take a bath at least twice a week. Use soap, and hot water too.
Don’t get cut or burned; if you do, fix it up and it won’t get germs
in it.” Another report dealing with ears and hearing was delivered
with equal dispatch.

We compared samples of written work from this category with
those from the first. The following examples demonstrate that in
written work there is no appreciable difference between children in
categories 1 and 2.

A. Girl, high ability:

. Keep clean.

. Keep clean clothes on.
. Go see the doctor.

. Keep germs out of your body.
. Take a bath at least twice a day.

arwWN Fe

266 . BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 196

B. Girl, good ability:
1. Keep your skin clean.
2. Do not read in a dim light.
3. Set up straight.
4. Do not put your finger in your mouth.
C. Boy, good ability:
. Get plenty of food.
Do not work hard.
. Keep yourself clean.
. Play safe too.
. Use plenty of soap.
. Keep your skin clean and healthy and sit up straight.
D. Boy, average ability:
. Keep clean.
. Keep germs out.
. Keep from getting sick.
. Wash before you eat.
. Keep your body clean.

Ooi wh

oe Cob e&

These children are as verbal at home as they are at school. School
activities are reported with varying degrees of accuracy by most of
them. ‘Two sisters in the same grade informed their mother that
their teacher told them that flies carry germs. Emily replied, ‘Well,
if you kids would keep the screen door shut we wouldn’t have so
many flies in here.”

While I was visiting with another mother, her small son came
home and said, ‘““My teacher told us that if we chewed tobacco it
would turn our lips inside out.’’ Admittedly, the data are limited,
but my observations do not suggest that circumstances in the home
are altered by any information which the children impart.

Responses to health instruction in the classroom suffice to sort
the children into two groups. Differentiation is made on the basis of
their behavior, not on learning ability. In written work there is
little to differentiate the two. In oral recitation, one group is verbal
and actively participates in the learning process. The other is non-
verbal; unless individuals are coaxed, they seldom volunteer an
answer. On the occasions that they do, they cover their mouths
with their hands when talking. There is no gradation of behavior
which suggests the presence of Thomas’ four acculturative categories
with which we are concerned.

BEHAVIOR PROMPTED BY ILLNESS

Illness disturbs the equilibrium of a family. If the condition
persists, it demands a decision upon which some action will be predi-
cated. Evon Z. Vogt (1955, pp. 5-7) calls this a choice situation,
and finds that it is adapted to research on values. These choices
reveal differences among people. Given the choices which the

aor cay EASTERN CHEROKEE GROUPS—KUPFERER 267
Cherokee make among the alternatives they have for coping with
illness, I can place the informants into three categories: those who
rely on Indian ‘doctors,’ usually in combination with some modern
medicine; those who rely almost exclusively on the Public Health
staff; and those who rely on private medical care to the exclusion of
other services.

CATEGORY 1. PATIENTS OF INDIAN “DOCTORS”

Indians who continue to rely on Indian doctors are the Conserva-
tives, but they seldom do so to the complete exclusion of modern
medicine. There are, however, some of the older Conservatives who
attempt to confine their choice of therapy to the native ‘“‘practitioner.”’
These old Indians believe that the hospital is a place where people
die. One aged woman said firmly, ‘I’d never go to the hospital; I’d
never go to anybody but an Indian doctor. ... I want to die in
my own bed.” An old man said he never went to the hospital. ‘I
want to live a long time, and get better.” He said his wife did not
go to the hospital, either. ‘She just slip over and die in the night.
. . . Next morning she dead. Lot of people die that way; never do
get sick.”

When these older Conservatives do go to the hospital, it is at the
insistence of another member of the family. An elderly woman—a
“doctor’’ herselfi—was taken under protest to the hospital after a fall.
“She didn’t want to go,” her daughter said, ‘‘but they slipped a
blanket under her, and carried her to the hospital . . . the nurse
rubbed something on her back... she didn’t like it.” If they
have been under the care of an Indian doctor, and are forced to seek
modern medical aid, they attempt to explain the native healer’s
failure to alleviate the condition. ‘Uncle Jimmie nearly gave up on
him but not quite. ... I think maybe we waited too long to do
sométhing about it. We knew he was hurting, but he wouldn’t tell
us how long he’d been like that.’’ Others suspect that some native
doctors have ‘‘spoiled themselves’”’ by not observing prescribed rituals
after the death of a patient.

Admittedly, those people who actively resist modern medical aid
are few. The most common practice is that of employing a combi-
nation of the two forms of treatment. Occasionally this combination
occurs simultaneously, or nearly so. For example, one family has a
daughter who, according to an official diagnosis, is emotionally dis-
turbed. She suffers from the delusion that someone is ‘‘knocking her
down.” Through arrangements made by a caseworker, her parents
take her to Asheville for psychiatric counseling. At the same time,
however, she is being treated locally by an Indian doctor from Bird-
town. Others who have been discharged from the hospital by an

268 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 196

attending physician will resume treatment with an Indian doctor.
For another example, one informant was treated for a cat bite which
had become infected. Upon release from the hospital she was treated
by an old woman. Another man’s face was stepped on by a mule.
“Uncle Jimmie doctored him, then he went to the hospital. When
he got out Uncle Jimmie doctored him until he got well.”

This pattern of utilizing a combination of professional and nonpro-
fessional care is not as common as using either one type or the other
as different occasions demand. It is difficult to discover what deter-
mines the choice of therapy in some circumstances. However, the
data suggest that knowledge of the nature of the ailment is a factor,
particularly in the case of children. If the ailment is not diagnosed,
the child is most frequently taken into the Public Health Hospital. If,
on the other hand, the trouble is an earache, a cold, or a fever, an
Indian doctor is called in. One young couple regularly takes its baby
to a private pediatrician for periodic examinations. But the mother
took the youngest child to an Indian healer when the child had a bad
cold. ‘He prescribed some roots to be scraped down and made into
tea, then delivered more the next morning.’”’ The baby recovered.
Hives (Indians in category 1 believe that all babies have them) are
always treated by native doctors. They make the baby restless and
fretful. ‘White doctors don’t know anything about hives or kernels,
either.”

I asked one Indian mother, Emmaline, a question about the relative
effectiveness of Indian doctors or White doctors. She replied, ‘Well,
it just depends, if you know what’s the matter.” She took her baby to
Molly to be doctored because she thought the baby had an earache,
but later the same day when the baby seemed no better, she took her
into the hospital where she hoped they would ‘‘give her a shot of
penicillin. That usually takes care of it.”” She continued, “Some-
times when you go down, they just give a shot and it don’t help.”

Some years ago, Emmaline had a 3-year-old who would not play
with the other children. The physician at the hospital said there was
nothing wrong with the child. But Emmaline noticed that the baby
was getting “fat [swollen] in the face and stomach.” She took the
youngster to an old man who asked, ‘‘How she was. He said he’d try.
He got some herbs and blew on the baby. We went back four times
and the baby was cured.” Emmaline said, “It seems like Indian
doctors know more about babies than White doctors.’’

Another parent, Katherine, has a baby who weighed only 5 pounds
when she came home from the hospital. She did not gain and did not
“do right.”” When the hospital failed to help the baby, Katherine
took her to an Indian doctor. He asked, ‘“How she been,” and then

A EASTERN CHEROKEE GROUPS—KUPFERER 269

he said, ‘‘I’ll try to help her.”” In a week or so the infant began to get
better.

As these latter two examples show, both mothers used the hospital

facilities at first, but when they became dissatisfied with the result,
they turned to native healers. Thus, another factor influencing choice
of therapy is related to a dissatisfaction with the kind of care the
hospital staff gives. That is, as the Indians perceive it, the care
may not be proper. This dissatisfaction is borne out in the following
case. A toddler pulled a pot of boiling corn and lye over herself. As
her mother tells it:
The blisters did not come for a couple of hours. We took her to the hospital and
they bandaged her and I brought her back home. She cried all night. When I
took her back 3 days later, that nurse ripped the bandages off and the blood
poured out. I took her home; I could nurse her better than that. Lloyd, he
came up and doctored her, told me to leave the bandages off so the heat could get
out. It took about a month for the burns to heal.

During the winter of 1959-60, an elderly woman was told she had
cancer. Her son asked the physicians to operate, but was told that it
was too late for surgery. The patient was quite sure that she didn’t
have cancer, for she said, “‘I forgot to tell the doctor I hurt my body
when I fell last December. . . . I decided to go to an Indian doctor;
she say, I’m bruised inside.”” Some weeks later she remarked that she
was getting stouter and said, ‘I don’t suffer like I did.”” Others in
the community agree that Liza is better. ‘She couldn’t even turn
over when she got home, now she walks good.’’ Her Indian doctor is
treating her for kidney trouble. Liza said she would not go back to
the hospital because she has medicine of her own now.

Another area in which there is some disapproval of hospital tech-
nique is in obstetrics. There were only five infants born at home dur-
ing my stay in the field. Many Conservative women are, however,
apprehensive about going to the hospital to have their babies. Lucy
made frequent oblique remarks about staying home to have her child,
although it was delivered at the hospital. Many mothers disapprove of
the kind of postnatal care given at the hospital. There is a firm
belief that postparturient mothers should not be given cold liquids and
that the placenta should not be burned; if the latter is done, the
mothers will not regain their strength. Some new mothers are
treated by native doctors upon their return from the hospital. During
my stay, two of the mothers whose infants were delivered at home
said they would not go to the hospital because babies die there. In
fact, one firmly believes that a doctor killed a baby of hers. In
conjunction with this, she said, ‘‘White doctors can cure, but they can
kill too, if they want to.”

747-014—66——-18

270 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Buy. 196

Opinions about Indian doctors vary somewhat. Some, although
they do patronize Indian practitioners, feel that they do not know as
much now as the ‘‘old people’ did. Others hold that Indian doctors
can cure cancer and diabetes, as well as other ailments. Some native
healers are, of course, considered better than others. The feeling is
strong that all of them can “conjure” against somebody, but the
doctors generally deny this. How widespread the feeling is that
Indian doctors know when a person is going to die has not been deter-
mined, but this subject has been mentioned by a few informants.

Most adults who make use of Indian doctors know some herbal
remedies and use them much as others might use patent medicines;
indeed, some of them use patent medicines, too. Usually these people
do not know the ceremonial language which accompanies the formula
for curing. For example, Ollie, a middle-aged informant, said that
one of her grandchildren had something wrong with him, so she made
some medicine and rubbed it on. “He quit that sliding around
fitching].””’ Her brother, Julius, “learned medicine” for cuts and
toothaches from his grandfather, Ducksoup. However, he doctors
only himself.

To summarize, these are the patterns which most of the Con-
servatives follow when coping with illness. If allowed to make a
choice, some people, admittedly few in number, avoid contact with
White physicians. However, school health activities preclude com-
plete reliance on Indian doctors. Thus, many Conservatives use
both types of medical practitioners at the same time.

Others employ both Indian and White doctors, but on different
occasions. One variable here is diagnosis. If the nature of the
affliction is known, help is solicited from an Indian doctor. In the
event that it is unknown, a trip to the hospital is made for a shot, for
these people have implicit faith in the efficiency of shots. Evidence
suggests that in circumstances where the White physician does not
tell the patient what is wrong with him and does not give him an
injection, the patient feels that the doctor is no good. Associated
with this point of view is the tendency to turn to an Indian doctor
if the therapy or diagnosis does not accord with the Indian’s idea of
proper treatment. We suggest that for the greater number of these
people, the two types of medical assistance are not antithetical.
In their view, the two systems are complementary. Choosing be-
tween them does not produce ambivalence. Given the notion that
Indian doctors know more about pediatrics than White doctors, one
readily selects a native doctor, but if the malady does not respond
to this therapy, a shot is probably required. Correspondingly, in
ailments in which injections form part of the treatment, the people
are fairly faithful. The diabetic patients are regular in their adminis-

cu EASTERN CHEROKEE GROUPS—KUPFERER 271

tration of insulin, but not nearly so faithful in following the dietary
regulation in which they have been instructed.

CATEGORY 2. PATIENTS OF PUBLIC HEALTH MEDICAL SERVICES

The second group is composed of the Rural Whites and the General-

ized Indians who use to the fullest extent the facilities offered by the
Public Health Service. Unless they are referred to other physicians
or specialists by the reservation medical staff, they seldom go off the
reservation for treatment. While none admit using Indian doctors,
some may use herbs which they regard as effective. ‘Do you ever
use Indian doctors: do you believe in them?” one was asked. She
replied, ‘‘Well, those who use herbs can help. I’ve used herbs for
the children. Yellowroot is good for thrash in the mouth . . . wild
cherry is good for colds. My mamma uses herbs, too.’”? Another
mother of a large Rural White family said:
We used to be bad to do that [formerly made frequent use of herb medicine]
but we don’t do it much any more. On the other side of the creek is a medicine
called boneset. It’s very good for fever. You make tea out of it and drink it
hot asyoucan. Juniorsays it tastes terrible. Years agomy mother and some of
those people up there [Big Cove] would never go to a doctor down here, but now
most of them do. We always take ours [take their children to the Public Health
doctors in Cherokee].

Tom, the father of another Rural White family, is typical of people
in category 2 in his frequent use of the Public Health Service. His
comments about his medical problems reflect the poor communication
that often exists between the medical practitioners and the people in
category 2. For example, he said that the Public Health doctor told
him he had ‘just given out.’ He is under treatment for severe
asthma. His medicine, he says, ‘‘Smells like cherry bark and alcohol
and tastes worse than it smells.” Tom has another condition which
affects one leg. He was referred to a doctor in Asheville for X-rays.
His remarks about this experience also mirror his confusion. Tom
said that the Asheville doctor told him he’d never seen “‘so much gas
coming from the ligaments in his back to his leg.’”” A suspicious spot,
which was thought to be cancer, showed up on the plate and the
county welfare worker told Tom this. Later the Public Health
doctor told him that it was a result of having but one kidney. ‘‘Any-
way,” Tom said, ‘There ain’t nothing you can do about cancer.
IT wouldn’t let them cut into me.” In contrast to the woman cancer
patient in category 1 who is being treated by an Indian doctor, Tom
said he would never go to an Indian doctor although he gets little
relief from the medications he takes. Tom has a favorite physician

272 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 196

at the hospital, and he takes all the children to him. The three
youngest children are not well. Goats’ milk has been prescribed for
one, but obtaining it is out of the question because of its cost.

Jack, a Generalized Indian, spent several weeks in the Public
Health Hospital and was then sent to a Veterans’ Administration
hospital. He left there on a weekend pass and would not return.
Later he was readmitted to the Public Health Hospital. His mother
said Jack left the VA hospital because he thought they were going
to operate on him. Jack commented in an interview that none of
the physicians know what they are doing, but he maintained that
Indian doctors know even less.

Usually as children, some of those in the second category have

used Indian doctors in the past. If they use them now, they do so
sub rosa, although they may admit knowing who one or two of the
Indian doctors are. One older informant said, “Anybody would be
a fool to go to one of them.”? When reminded by his wife that he
had gone to one once, he replied,
Aw hell, I was so damn drunk I didn’t know what I was doing. . . it would have
gotten better anyway. I fell off a damn mule and my leg swelled up and kept
bothering me. So I got a jug of whiskey and went over to her place and said I
wanted my leg doctored. She went over to the stove and warmed her hands and
rubbed them on my knee. Then she took a scratcher with snake rattles on
it—snake teeth too I reckon—and scratched my leg ’til the damn thing bled.
She told me it would get better in four days. . . got well after a while, but not
in four days . . . damn foolishness!

Among many in this category, the sanitary conditions of the home
are such that frequent illness is to be expected. Usually these
people follow the orders issued by the physicians. The diabetics
among them are cautious about their diet, and many of them achieve
a desired loss of weight.

CATEGORY 8. PATIENTS OF PRIVATE PHYSICIANS

The final category is comprised of people who use private health
services almost exclusively. Among this group, which is made up
primarily of the Cherokee Middle Class, are a few Rural Whites and
a few Generalized Indians. Their reasons for relying on private
medical care are varied and complex. Several of these people are
Civil Service employees. They maintain that, in this capacity, they
are not eligible for care provided by the Public Health hospital.
However, many inquiries yielded no definitive statements on such a
policy, although there is a sign in the waiting room of the hospital
which states that medical care is available for indigent Indians only.

ANTHROP. PAP.
oe EASTERN CHEROKEE GROUPS—KUPFERER Zt

Yet some use these facilities who are financially able to assume
reasonable costs for treatment but are not Federal employees. Fur-
thermore, several people who are employed in some capacity by the
Bureau of Indian Affairs use the hospital without charge.

It is alleged by many people in this group that the Public Health
doctors are poorly qualified. ‘Public Health officials can’t make a go
of it in private practice. They are more concerned with the salaries
than they are the people.’”” One woman, a Generalized Indian, had
her first child at the reservation hospital. She said they left her in
labor for 2 days. Her second child was born in a private hospital,
and she takes all the children to a doctor in Waynesville. She vows
she will never go back to the “Indian” hospital for anything unless
she is ready to die. Another informant, a Rural White, insists that
the Public Health staff does not know what to do for her. She takes
her medical problems to Bryson City. Statements such as these
are typical of this group.

Although there may be some truth in some of the charges about the
attitude of the health staff, comments suggest that a matter of status
is involved in the choice of therapy for people in the third group.
This is borne out by such remarks as: “I can afford my own doctor
bills,” and ‘I’m no charity patient.” I asked a Middle Class in-
formant whether she ever used the Public Health facilities. She
looked very surprised and answered, ‘Heavens no!”

People in category 3 are much more sophisticated in health affairs.
Although they treat themselves at home, they seldom permit a
chronic condition or an unusual symptom to continue uncared for.
They make use of psychiatric counseling. They are quick to have
surgery when it is necessary. When they keep their children home
from school, the youngsters are kept in bed or indoors.

Most of these people are not acutely aware of the extent to which
Indian medicine is still being practiced. One man said that it had
all died out, although he supposed his grandmother used it. Another
denied any knowledge of native doctors, although probing revealed
that he did know who one of the doctors was. The few who do have
some awareness of the habits of Conservatives have no interest in,
or sympathy with, native medicine. A shopkeeper said, “Don’t let
them fool you. Nine-tenths of them believe in conjuremen, so they
fool around with them . . . when they get to the hospital they are
half dead.”” A former nurse said of one well-known Indian doctor,
“He'll tell people anything he happens to think of.”’

In general, there is no distinctive difference between Indians in
the third category and White people from a similar educational and

274 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Bunn. 196

economic background. Their health practices with regard to pre-
ventive measures and treatment of illness accord with middle class
standards at large.

To conclude, the analysis of behavior in respect to the onset. of
illness has suggested three types of people. However, the differences
between the three groups are not of the same order. The second and
third groups are both committed to modern medicine. The differ-
ence rests in the choice of doctor which is, in part, based upon the
ability to pay for private care. The basic distinction among the
people is clearly drawn between those who use aboriginal medicine
and those who do not.

CONCLUSIONS

Health habits and medical practices have been analyzed in terms
of four criteria: environmental sanitation and hygienic practices;
responses to clinical procedures; responses to school health instruction ;
and behavior prompted by illness.

CriTERION I. SANITARY-HYGIENIC ENVIRONMENT.—Analysis of the
data on environmental sanitation and hygienic practices permitted
the construction of four categories of people. The first two categories
contain Conservatives, Rural Whites, and Generalized Indians. The
third and fourth categories include Rural Whites, Generalized Indians,
and the Middle Class. Table 7 demonstrates the distribution of 73
informants and their families according to this criterion. The data
presented in this table are valid only in terms of the cases selected
for observation. They illustrate the fact that there is a rough fit
between Thomas’ four acculturative types of people and their sanitary
and hygienic practices.

TABLE 7.—Distribution of selected Cherokee families by types of sanitary-hygienic
environment (criterion I)

Selected families, according to Thomas’ “‘Acculturation Types”

Types of sanitary-hygienic Conservative Generalized Rural White Middle Class
environment ei EIGaT S| Co BORA

Num-]| Per- | Num-| Per- | Num-| Per- | Num-| Per-

——\ | | | | | |

Category 1. Inadequate---.--------- 13 56. 5 1 6.0 4 28. 6 0 0.0
Ostegory Z.. Mintmal® <---.-2-- 22-2 -- 9 39.1 74\\ alee 4 28.6 0 .0
Category 3. Adequate-____...--.----- 1 4.4 6 35. 2. 5 35.7 14 21.1
Category 4. Very adequate_-__------- 0 0 3 17.6 1 ow 15 78.9

otale--ce-- sees en nee eee 23 | 100.0 17 | 100.0 14] 100.0 19 100.0

1 Three of the four are homes of single men.

aes a EASTERN CHEROKEE GROUPS—KUPFERER 275

Criterion II. Responses TO CLINICAL PROCEDURES.—Materials
from the observation of Public Health clinics enable me to divide
the participants into only two groups. The writer observed approxi-
mately 78 adults, some of whom were accompanied by children, in
five clinics.“ Table 8 shows the distribution of these adults. The
difference in the behavior is very marked. ‘Thirty-two of the partici-
pants are characterized by reserve and passiveness; the remaining
forty-six are “out going,’”’ and interact openly in the clinic situation.
The first category comprises Conservatives. Thomas’ Rural Whites
and Generalized Indians are in the second category.

TaBLE 8.— Distribution of Cherokee clinic participants, by type of behavior in five
public health clinics (criterion II)
Clinic participants, according to Thomas’ ‘‘Acculturation Types”
Type of clinic behavior Conservative Generalized Rural White Middle Class

Num-| Per- | Num-| Per- | Num-| Per- | Num-| Per-

ber cent ber cent ber cent ber cent
Category 1. Inarticulate-acquies-
(alien 2-: ee oe es Se eS 1} 100.0 0 0.0 1] 4.5 0 0.0
Category 2. Vocal, active partici-
Pationas-* op eee ese oe 0 24 | 100.0 21 95.5 1 100. 0
ObH eee. 2ne= coe cece eee 31 | 100.0 24 100.0 221 100.0 1 100. 0

1 Modified behavior.

Crirerion III. Responses TO SCHOOL HEALTH INSTRUCTION.—
All of the reservation schools were visited during the course of the
fieldwork, but the school health instructional program of one school
was investigated at length because the school had a good representa-
tion of Thomas’ first three acculturative groups. Of 35 children, 14
behaved in a manner similar to the people described in category 1,
under clinical behavior. The remaining 21 children duplicated the
behavior of the second group of clinic participants. These data are
presented in table 9.

Criterion IV. BEHAVIOR PROMPTED BY ILLNESS.—The choices
made by the Cherokee in terms of medical therapy reveal significant

ld Observations were made in one well-baby clinic, two preschool clinics, and two diabetic clinics. In
the well-baby clinic approximately three-fourths of the participants fell into category 2. Participants
in one of the preschool clinics, held in Big Cove, were all Conservatives whose behavior placed them in
category 1. Of those taking part in the preschool clinic held in the Public Health offices, approximately
three-fourths fell into category 2. On the basis of their behavior, the patients in the diabetic clinics were
evenly divided between the first and second categories.

276 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 196

TaBLE 9.—Disiribution of 35 schoolchildren, by health classroom behavior
(criterion ITI)

Schoolchildren, according to Thomas’ “ Acculturation Types’”’
Type of health classroom behavior | Conservative Generalized Rural White Middle Class

Num-| Per- | Num-| Per- | Num-]| Per- | Num-| Per-

ber cent ber cent ber cent ber cent
Category 1. Inarticulate-acquies-
Severo Myewyr ley OF 407 7 12 ROOSOMIECEE Peete cs 12 25: OF (Le eee eee
Category 2. Vocal, active participa-
Pn ae Perr ere! Seer eee, ye Sey ee ee eee 15 100.0 6 7550 22. Less. Sees
Total 2 aso ete ne oS esos 12 100.0 15 100, 0 S | 100.0 pose nese} s- es

1 One child mentally retarded.

differences. There are two major groups, those who use Indian
“doctors,’’ and those who do not. Among those who use native prac-
titioners, some are more consistent in their use than are others. For
the most part, the most consistent patients of Indian healers are the
old Indians, but not exclusively so. The more prevalent pattern is
the alternative use of both aboriginal medicine and modern medicine.
The second major classification is subdivided into those who use
Public Health facilities available on the reservations, and those who
use private physicians in surrounding towns. Data provided in
table 10 show the distribution of 74 Indian families by the main
type of medical care utilized. Indians who cling to aboriginal medi-
cine, either exclusively or in combination with modern medicine, are
Conservatives. Those who are oriented toward modern therapy are
Rural Whites, Generalized Indians, and the Middle Class. The
patrons of private medical services are largely members of the Middle

TABLE 10.—Distribution of selected Cherokee families by type of medical
care (criterion IV)

Selected families, according to Thomas’ “ Acculturation Types’’
Type of medica] care Conservative Generalized Rural White Middle Class

Num-| Per- | Num-| Per- | Num-| Per- | Num-| Per-

ber cent ber cent ber cent ber cent
Indian’ doctors. oe eee ene eee 22 91.7 1] 5.9 1] 1 Oe | ee ee aS
Public Health! t= 3 96s pi eee 2 8.3 13 76.5 10 71.5 il 6.3
Private, practice!. 2. 2o20.-25e3 fs eo see loc 2 3 17.6 3 21.4 18 94.7
Totaled Were BPA Fee 24} 100.0 17} 100.0 14} 100.0 19 100.0

1 There is no conclusive evidence that these informants utilize Indian doctors, but conversations hint at
the possibility.

ANTHROP. PAP. pene,
No. 781 EASTERN CHEROKEE GROUPS—KUPFERER QV

Class, although a few of the better situated Rural Whites and Gen-
eralized Indians also patronize private physicians.

The findings previously discussed do not provide us with a fourfold
lineal model of acculturation. The clustering which I find tends to
group together people who are, according to Thomas, dissimilar.
Rather, the data suggest both an on-going process of acculturation,
and an internal differentiation taking place within the more accul-
turated group.

Acculturation.—Data from criteria II and III (clinic and school
behavior) demonstrate a two-fold acculturative differentiation,
“Tndian and Non-Indian.” Conservatives are concentrated in one
category. Other people, on the basis of analogous behavior, fall
into a second category. This illustrates the ways in which three of
Thomas’ four types are similar to each other.

Acculturation and internal differentiation —Data from criteria I
and IV (sanitation and types of medical care) also illustrate an on-
going process of acculturation. They show less two-way differentia-
tion than do criteria IT and III, but there is, nevertheless, a clustering
of Conservatives in category 1, in each case, and a clustering of the
Middle Class in the last category, in each case.

Criteria I and IV illustrate, moreover, the possibility of social
class differentials as well as Conservative-non-Conservative differ-
entials. For example, in criterion I some 52.8 percent of the General-
ized Indian informants fall within categories 3 and 4 and 57.1 percent
of the Rural Whites fall within categories 1 and 2; the former percentage
is higher than would be expected and the latter is lower if a good fit
existed between sanitary and hygienic practices and the Thomas
acculturation continuum. One is led to believe that much of the
difference in the sanitary environments of the Generalized Indian,
the Rural White, and the Middle Class is due to socioeconomic rather
than to acculturative differentials. Similarly, data from criterion IV
suggest that choices made by the non-Conservatives as to types of
medical care are made, not so much because of differences in accultura-
tion, but because of differences in status and styles of life. The
Generalized Indians and Rural Whites who use the Public Health
facilities and staff frequently do so because they cannot afford private
medical care.

A diagram of these findings (fig. 7) shows clearly the problems
inherent in an assessment of both the process and the end result of
acculturation, and emphasizes the inconsistency of the data on health
as a key criterion of acculturation.

[BuLL. 196

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY

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Ser anora PAP. EASTERN CHEROKEE GROUPS—KUPFERER 279

EDUCATIONAL ASPIRATIONS AND EXPERIENCES

Many students of social stratification in Western society have used
education as one basic criterion for separating disparate groups of
people. Some studies simply record the number of school years
completed by members of a sample. Other studies search for the
value which respondents attach to education.'® This second approach
has revealed significant differences in the importance divergent
groups place on formal education, and suggests that a similar phenom-
enon might be present among the Cherokee. Consequently, educa-
tion has been used as a second variable for testing the Thomas
continuum.

Almost everyone at Cherokee agrees that education is important.
Beyond this, however, there are differences. Aspiration levels differ,
reasons for valuing education differ (although sometimes subtly), and
the behavior associated with achieving the goal also differs.

ASPIRATION LEVELS

I have placed the Cherokee into three broad categories on the basis
of what I have learned of their aspiration levels: Those who aspire to
a high school education for their children; those who regard some fur-
ther training, usually vocational, as necessary; and those who antici-
pate college education for their children.

CATEGORY 1. HIGH SCHOOL ORIENTED

Among those who envisage high school education as necessary prep-
aration for young people, verbalization on the importance of this
achievement is a recurrent phenomenon. By and large, the reasons
given for this desideratum are similar. A common one is the desire
to have children better educated than their parents. Jess, a young
father, said in answer to a question about keeping his children in
school, “Yes, I don’t want them to be like me; I only went to the
third grade. My boy is in the sixth grade now.” Another informant,
Lizzie, a grandmother raising the illegitimate son of one of her daugh-
ters, insists that she wants ‘‘him to be something when he grows up,
not a dummy like me. I most forgot everything I ever learned .. .
arithmetic, it’s like when you lie down to go to sleep; you put every-
thing away.”’ Lizzie’s own formal education was restricted to 3 or 4
years at the reservation boarding school in the years around 1900.

Another reason proposed for finishing school, closely related to the
one above, reflects concern for employment opportunities. There is
a general consensus that nowadays, a high school education is impera-

18 See, for example: Hollingshead and Redlich, 1958; Warner et al., 1947; Hayman, 1953, pp. 426-432; Kahl,
1956, pp. 184-218, 276-293; and Spindler and Goldschmidt, 1952, pp. 68-83.

280 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 196

tive if one is to get a job. The fact has been underscored by the
presence of the Harns Manufacturing Plant, for although workers
have been employed who are not high school graduates many have
been refused on this basis. Younger workers are encouraged to apply
only after they have finished school.

Jack Johnson recognizes the importance of a high school education
for obtaining a job. The fact that his oldest son married without
finishing high school was a great disappointment to him and his wife.
His second son went West with a Mormon missionary and is attending
public high school there. Jack misses him but contends that he is
better off out there. ‘“They can’t do anything without an education.”
The boy in the West wants to join the Navy. Jack said he would
sion the papers provided his son finishes high school first. Jack
completed the 11th grade, and his wife finished high school.

In agreement with Jack is Tom, the father of 12 children. He told
his boys that they were all going to finish school “even if they are 30
before they do it. They can’t get a job now unless they’ve got an
education.’”? One son was a victim of polio, and, Tom says, ‘‘He has
got to go past high school because he isn’t as strong as the others.”

Concomitant with the parents’ desire to have their children “better
themselves” by finishing school, is their concern over the quality of
the reservation schools. Lizzie, for example, is critical of the reserva-
tion educational program. She sends her grandson to summer school
at Cullowhee, a small college about 40 miles from the reservation.
In this connection she plans to put Frank in “‘public school,’ ’° for she
does not see ‘why Indian children can’t learn as good as White
children.’’ She is convinced that Indian children are not educated
as well as they should be. ‘Long time ago,” she said, ‘“‘a superin-
tendent [superintendent in charge of the reservation] told them
teachers that Indians shouldn’t learn like White people. I know a
girl graduated from Cherokee can’t even count.”

Jack Johnson also questions the quality of the reservation schools.
“The Indian school isn’t like it used to be whenI went... . Ifl
had the money, I’d send every one of mine to public school in Bryson
or Whittier. They need good schooling.”

These four informants are typical of many who stress t he importance
of secondary school preparation. Whether they will see their children
achieve this is impossible to predict with certainty. (None of Lizzie’s
own children have finished high school. The two youngest, a boy and
girl in their early 20’s entered, but despite Lizzie’s “begging them to
finish, they stopped after the ninth grade.” She insists that her
grandson will not do this.) But their approach to the problem differs

16 County and city schools adjacent to the reservation. Cf. footnote 2, p. 225.

a EASTERN CHEROKEE GROUPS—KUPFERER 281

from some of the others in this category who express the same goal.
They do not permit the children to stay out of school unless it is
absolutely necessary, or unless the child is ill. Occasionally, Tom’s
older boys have to stay out to plow, plant, or harvest. When they
do, Tom’s wife writes a note to the school principal explaining the
situation.

Other Indians who recognize the importance of high school education
are less assertive about it. And they rarely complain about the quality
of the reservation schools. The attendance records of their children
testify to the fact that they do not pressure their children into regular
attendance. Other evidence supporting this lack of coercion is visible
in the variation found among children within the same family in terms
of the number of grades completed. For example, Emmaline, a
mother of 10 children, says she hates to have the children “lay out”’ of
school, but when asked why Alfred was not in school, she said “He
got ready to go this morning; he put on clean socks, but he didn’t go.”
Emmaline has an older son and daughter who did not finish high school
but she has two daughters who are attending high school at a Federal
boarding school for Indians in Kansas. The younger one, Ellie, is
crossing off the days until she can come home. Her mother said,
‘She don’t care much for it.”

Lucy, another informant, has only a sixth grade education, but her
older brother and sister have graduated from Cherokee High School.
A younger brother and sister entered, but did not finish. Lucy said,
“JT just quit; I didn’t like boarding school. Momma and Poppa didn’t
say nothing about it.” Five of her children now are in elementary
school. ‘Mary does good, but them boys can’t learn nothing. Ken-
neth wants to quit. I guess [’ll let him if the school will.”” On two
occasions I found Mary home from school because, her mother said,
“she didn’t want to go.”

Both of these mothers and their husbands talk about the importance
of education. One husband was refused employment at the Harns
plant because of inadequate preparation. But when asked about
plans for their children, the reply was, “It’s up to them, whatever
they want to be.”

Some Rural Whites, Generalized Indians, and Conservatives are
found in category 1. They all share the same level of aspiration, but
the steps they take to implement the goal vary. Generalized Indians
and the Rural Whites are usually more forceful in seeing that their
children attend school regularly, and they attempt to keep them en-
rolled until they graduate. For the most part, Conservatives do not
pressure their children to comply with their wishes. However, there
are some who, although traditional in many ways (for example, in
choices of medical treatment), are determined to see that their children

282 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 196

receive more education than they did. At this writing, they are taking
measures to implement the goal, but these children are young.
Whether the adults will continue to directly influence them as they
mature is a moot point.

CATEGORY 2. POST-HIGH-SCHOOL VOCATIONAL TRAINING ORIENTED

Noncollegiate post-high-school training is a common goal for many
people, and well within the reach of most of them, since the Federal
Government maintains free vocational schools for Indians. (The major
cost is transportation.) Cherokee who take advantage of these schools
go either to Haskell Institute, in Kansas, or to Chilocco, in Oklahoma.
The reasons parents give for encouraging their children to continue
are almost entirely associated with better economic opportunities.

Luke Diver, a Conservative resident of Big Cove, has two boys and
a girl who graduated from Cherokee High School and are now at-
tending Chilocco. He was asked whether he thought that it was a good
idea to have them in school. ‘Well, it don’t cost nothing, and it
looks like nowadays you can’t get work unless you go on. . . like
me, it’s hard to get work. I ain’t heard from the plant yet.’”’ Luke
has not given his children as strong encouragement to continue their
education as has his neighbor, Wilbur, the father of three children
now in elementary school. I asked Wilbur if he was planning to see
that all of his children graduate from high school. ‘Yes,’ he replied.
“But of course, a high school education doesn’t mean much nowadays;
if they want a white collar job, they got to have college or vocational
training.” His wife added, “If we can’t afford college maybe we can
get them into other training. It seems like it is easier now than it was
when I was growing up.”” Wilbur continued, ‘‘Look at some of these
kids who are getting high school diplomas. They don’t know what
they ought to know. I don’t think the schools are as good as they
were when I went, back in the boarding school days.”’ Wilbur would
like to send his children to a local public school for better preparation.
However, it isn’t possible because they live much too far from the
county school-bus lines.

Another informant, a Generalized Indian, attended Chilocco and
feels that vocational education is important. He is sending his son
to high school in Waynesville so that he will be better prepared to
attend Chilocco. ‘Cherokee is no school; those kids can’t do a thing
when they get out . . . nothing but loaf. Not enough of them go on
to school and when they do, they can’t last.”” He continued, ‘Another
important thing about Chilocco is the getting out and mixing with
people.”

SO TEL ea EASTERN CHEROKEE GROUPS—-KUPFERER 283

The parents of a large Rural White family have hopes of sending
their oldest son to Haskell. They could not afford it when he grad-
uated from Cherokee High School last year. Although he is now
working at the Harns plant, he talks of quitting and going on for
vocational training. ‘‘Now with the new roll, I might be able to go
because I’ll get the same privileges [financial assistance] as full
Indians. I couldn’t go this fall, but I might be able to next year.”

These remarks reflect the sentiments of the people in category 2.
However, there is some merging between ambitions for vocational
training and for attending college. Some of the people do not make
a clear distinction between the two choices. The economic differential
between the two is one reason for lack of a definitive goal. Some
entertain the idea of college, but their finances militate against it,
and they are not so firmly committed to college as a social goal that
they will try to find a way. A second reason for the blurring is that
some of them are not clearly aware of the differences between advanced
vocational training and college education.

People who comprise category 2 are Generalized Indians, Rural
Whites, and a few Conservatives. (Most, although not all, of the
Conservatives are in the second group by virtue of the fact that some
of their children are presently enrolled in post-graduate training
schools. But we suspect, with good reason, that this is due, at least
in part, to outside influences and personal choices of the children,
rather than as a direct consequence of parental pushing.) Not all
those who want their children to continue some sort of training
beyond high school share the same feelings about the inadequacy of
reservation schools. But it is a prevalent sentiment, and becomes
even more entrenched in the next classification.

Most of the parents in category 2 have completed more years of
schooling than have those in the first category; however, there are
some who have little or no formal education. Emphasis on marks or
school performance, while not entirely absent among the first group,
becomes much more marked in category 2.

CATEGORY 38. COLLEGE ORIENTED

A small group of Cherokees regard college education as a normal
expectation for their children. Some of these children are currently
in college; others, not yet there, are reminded of this goal in many
ways. Economic position is, of course, an important element in the
realization of the goal. But it is not the sole reason. There are
several parents for whom the expense of maintaining even one child
in college represents a financial strain, even though these people are
better off than many because they have steady employment. Other

284. BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Buu 196

motives are present among this group that are lacking among people
in the other two categories.

One sentiment, often disguised, is that a college education will
prove that Indians can ‘‘amount to something.’”’ One informant, a
college graduate, reflects this in the half-joking remark, ‘Well this
dumb Indian got through it . . . and when I needed money, I went
out and worked for it.’

Concealed in other comments is the recognition of the status which
a college degree confers, irrespective of race. The son of one family
stayed out of college during the spring quarter of his junior year.
He is planning to be married this summer and return to school in
the fall. Because he has a well-established family business to enter, I
asked him why he bothered to finish college. ‘‘Oh, I don’t know,” he
said. ‘Just to say I did it, I guess . . . it would be nice for the
children to say they had a Daddy who went to college . . . I’ll never
use it [college education], I guess.”

There are people in this category who have achieved a stable socio-
economic position. They desire higher education for their children,
not so much because they are striving for status, but because they
have accepted college as a normal goal for those in their social posi-
tion. Illustrative of this is the case of a couple with three children.
The husband is a graduate of Chilocco; his wife attended a university
in the West for 2 years. One of their children has graduated from a
State university. The other two are presently enrolled in college.
One, a student in a western institution, failed a course his first semester.
His parents expressed mild concern, but took no definite steps to
discipline him. He was married during the spring of his freshman
year. Although his parents did not object, his mother fears that the
marriage may hinder him in the completion of his education. Several
times during the first semester he overdrew his checking account.
His father said, “Boy, he can spend the money. He went to school
with a bank account, and we’ve been sweetening it all winter. I
guess boys have to spend money, but I believe he spends too much.”
The youngest child was graduated from a public high school last June.
He spent a great deal of time searching college directories and finally
decided to major in engineering at a nearby State university.

There are others whose socioeconomic status is not typically that
of the middle class, but whose goals are similar. These families are
currently mobile. One such couple has two children for whom college
careers are planned. These children are under a reward system in
which they receive 50 cents for every A. If they receive a C or a D
they must pay the parents 10 cents. The money goes into their
college account. A set of the Encyclopedia Britannica (adult edition)
was purchased for the children to use in doing their homework.

cw EASTERN CHEROKEE GROUPS—KUPFERER 285

Their mother said, “I sure could have used them when I was in school,
but we couldn’t afford it.””. The mother graduated from high school.
The father finished the eighth grade. He said, “In those days, I
didn’t know what was good for me. I would have gone further, but
my Daddy died. He would have made me stay in school . . . he
went to Carlisle.” 7 One of his reasons for urging his children is the
employment potential inherent in a college education.

Rare, but present in a few cases, is the idea that an education
includes more than a means for earning a living, that it is a liberating
and stimulating experience. One informant has been planning for a
college education for her son from his infancy. The boy has never
attended reservation schools. All his educational experiences have
been geared to his ultimate entrance to college. He is a better than
average student but has required tutoring in French. A year in
preparatory school would help him, according to his mother, but the
expense involved makes the extra year out of the question. There is
a long tradition of education in the family, extending back four
generations. ‘The choice of institution for the boy is conditioned
both by expense and his particular needs. Because he is unassertive,
his parents think he might be lost at a State university. The cost
precludes following some of his uncles who attended New England
colleres. The task is to find a good small school which will arouse
his curiosity and widen his horizons.

None of the reasons for college education is mutually exclusive.
And, of course, employment possibilities are woven through all the
motives, but only in the sense that certain kinds of positions and
occupations are appropriate to the socioeconomic status of this group.
Most of the people of this category consist of people in Thomas’
Middle Class. However, there are a few Generalized Indians and
Rural Whites who, although not having the economic level of the
Middle Class, have the educational orientation. Strangely enough,
there is among our cases, at least one who is, in many respects, a
Conservative.

REFLECTIONS ON EDUCATIONAL EXPERIENCES

Perceptions and memories of one’s school experience have a bearing
on aspiration levels. They also serve as a sorting device for the
fieldworker. Attitudes toward school and things remembered differ
from person to person. But certain recurrent themes appeared as I
talked with informants. I have placed my informants into three
major groups on the basis of their reactions to boarding-school
experiences.

17 Carlisle, now closed, was a school in Pennsylvania for Indians which provided both high school and
0st-high school training.

747—-014—66——19

286 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 196

GROUP 1. RESENTFUL

Perhaps the most vivid recollections come from those who resented
the treatment of the children in the boarding school * of 25 or more
years ago. The mention of school elicits such reminiscences as:
“They put dresses on me to keep me from running away; think maybe
I be ashamed to go through Cherokee in a girl’s dress, but did any-
way.” This speaker is a young man in his early 30’s. Another man
about 56; recalls that there was a “‘little stone house they locked the
runaway boys in... they kept them from speaking Indian, too.’
Speaking about forbidding Cherokee speech, another said, ‘“They
used to make us work, or whip us, if they caught us speaking Indian.
I didn’t like that at all. I’m proud to say that I can read and write
in my own language.”’ A woman of 65, agrees with his comments,
adding, ‘Seemed like they wanted us to be White.”’ One final anec-
dote illustrates how vivid these recollections are for some. ‘‘Thomp-
son,’”’ I said, ‘‘tell me about when you were in school.’”’ Thompson
is a man of over 70. ‘‘One feller he hold one arm and another hold
another and one behind me whup me. ‘They took seven sticks about
that thick [he used his forefinger to illustrate the size] and whup me.”
“Why?” I asked. “Runnin’ away; after that I runned away and
never come back. They shouldn’t have done that to me.”

These speakers who resented the regime of the boarding sceail are
Conservatives. They speak with strong personal feelings of the
harsh treatment accorded them there as children. Most of them
succeeded in running away some time during their early years in
school. A few talk of eluding the ‘‘policeman” who was sent to take
them back. While escapes from truant officers were common, they
are not the primary reason for remaining away from school. The
basic cause was directly traceable to their parents, or parent surro-
gates, who did not make them return. The children’s failure to
return to school resulted in perpetuation of Conservative ways at a
time when the educational program was directed toward the rapid
inculcation of White ways. We shall have more to say about these
circumstances later. For the present, it is sufficient to say that today
they recognize the importance of some education. They perceive
that, to an extent, their economic plight is determined by this defi-
ciency. But efforts directed toward remedying this situation for their
children, in all but a few cases, are made less effective because of the
behavior pattern which stresses individual autonomy and disvalues
coercion.

18 With the advent of the John Collier Administration for Indian Affairs, the military discipline was
removed from Indian schools. Curricula were revised and emphasis was placed upon the ‘‘needs and goals
of the Indian students.’”’ In 1952 the boarding school at Cherokee was closed because new and better roads
permitted daily transportation for the students on the reservation. The current day school at Cherokee
is similar to public schools, with, perhaps, less emphasis on scholarship and more emphasis on crafts.

Aas EASTERN CHEROKEE GROUPS—KUPFERER 287

GROUP 2. APPRECIATIVE

For many who endured the discipline of school, the memory of it
has been dulled by what they perceive to have been the positive
consequences. For some, it led to Hampton Institute in Virginia;
for others, to Carlisle. Younger ones went to Haskell or Chilocco.
They feel that they have learned proper ways to do things, proper
ways to behave, and they feel they are progressive. One woman
speaks of the boarding school:
as a place where the classrooms were quiet and well disciplined. I told the
reservation principal that when they took out the military discipline, they ruined
the school. I remember our matron; she used to paddle me plenty, but I loved
her. That’s where I got my knowledge of the better things in life, right there in
that boarding school.

Still another says, “I was in boarding school when I was a girl and
went home only for the summer. I swore I wasn’t going to live like
those people in Big Cove.” The men remark, ‘‘Oh, it was rough all
right, but after that I went to Haskell, or Carlisle, or Hampton.”
The theme is, ‘‘It was worth it.”

Those who completed, or nearly completed, the program are now
most of the Generalized Indians, the Middle Class, and a few Rural
Whites. Some of them did run away but were returned, and so home
ties were made more tenuous. Some of those in group 2 went on to
other schools and some did not, but in any event, this period in the
history of the reservation school system succeeded in bringing about
significant changes for part of the population.

GROUP 3. BITTER

Others, who also finished the boarding school, never mention the
rigidity of the training unless one probes for it. But other feelings
come to the fore. These suggest that from some place, either from
the school or from other sources, they acquired a feeling of inadequacy.
One man said:

Segregated school for Indians is bad. . . the first time they go outside and bump
shoulders with Whites and get a kick in the pants, they come back home and
pull the blanket over their heads. I know how tough it was for me, how they
made me feel. I swore I’d never send my kids to Indian School.

When the curriculum underwent revision during the Collier ad-
ministration, some students were distressed:
Back in the 30’s when John Collier came in and put in all those crafts, we went
on strike. We felt we were wasting our time; they were making us go back-
wards. I had 24 units from here, and Cullowhee would only accept 15.

An informant, somewhat incoherent because he had had too much
to drink, said of all Indian schools, ‘‘I went to Haskell from here

288 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 196

.. .It wasa farce. . . they are just vocational schools, and a person
could learn in 1 year what it takes him 2 to get at a place like Haskell
or Cherokee.”

People in group 3 shared similar school experiences with the people
in group 2. They also share, but for different reasons, the bitterness
found among the Conservatives in group 1. Beyond this similarity
they do not resemble Conservatives in any way. Nearly all of them
have completed high school, and many have had vocational or college
training. They are actively encouraging their children to succeed in
school. In almost every case, their children attend schools off the
reservation. They condemn Indian schools in general, and the
Cherokee school in particular.

CONCLUSIONS

Levels of aspiration and recollections of educational experiences
have been the focus of the study of education. Analysis of educa-
tional aspirations has yielded three categories of Cherokee: high school
oriented, post-high-school vocational training oriented, and college
oriented. We see quite clearly that only secondary school completion
is a goal for one group. ‘The second group is aware that some train-
ing beyond high school is often necessary. The third group antici-
pates college education for its offspring. The members of these
categories fit Thomas’ continuum in a crude way. The group with
the lowest aspiration level includes a large number of Conservatives
and a few Rural Whites and Generalized Indians. The group with
the intermediate expectation is made up of Generalized Indians,
Rural Whites, and a few Conservatives. The largest single group in
the college oriented category is the Middle Class. Table 11 illustrates
this distribution for 41 families with school age children.

TABLE 11.— Distribution of selected Cherokee families by educational aspirations
Selected families, according to Thomas’ “Acculturation Types’’
Educational aspirations Conservative Generalized Rural White Middle Class

Num-| Per- | Num-| Per- | Num-| Per- | Num-| Per-

ber cent ber cent ber cent ber cent
High school oriented-_-___------------ 7 63. 6 3 27.2 3 33.3) | eee
Post-high-school vocational training_ 3 27.2 5 45.6 3 33.3 1 10.0
College oriented) 2222=25232- 2 ee 1 9.2 3 27.2 3 33.3 9 90.0
Total 2233.28 se ae ate: 11 100.0 11 100. 0 9 100. 0 10 100.0

Through the informants’ memories of personal experiences asso-
ciated with boarding school, I have been able to discern three groups
of Cherokee adults: those who resented the harsh treatment, those

eS i ea EASTERN CHEROKEE GROUPS—KUPFERER 289

who credit the school with their advancement, and those who were
made to feel inadequate by their attendance at Indian schools.

Those who were harshly treated and moved out of the situation
are Conservatives. They generally, but not always, have the lowest
level of aspiration for their children; they take few direct steps to
implement the goal. Some of the Rural Whites did not complete
many years of schooling either, but, because of their facility with
English and other familiarity with White ways, they were not so
roughly treated. Although their years of formal education were
often as few as the Conservatives, they do not have the same intensity
of feeling about the school. Their ambitions for their children are
similar to those of Conservative parents, but they provide more direc-
tion and encouragement.

Members of groups 2 and 3 spent more years in school than did
those of group 1. Whether they appreciated the training or whether
they felt stigmatized by it, they are the ones whose children are now
finishing high school and frequently going beyond it.

The findings on educational aspirations and experiences have
revealed differences among the Cherokee, but the differences do not
fit neatly with the differences among Thomas’ four groups. These
differences are the result of acculturation away from Conservatism.
They are, moreover, the result of internal differentiation among the
non-Conservatives, hinting at social class distinctions in regard to
educational goals and values.

DOMINANT VALUES

In the course of my fieldwork I discovered a number of behavioral
patterns which seemed only incidentally related to health matters and
to education. Such behavior led me, in turn, to suspect the existence
of two dominant values among the Cherokee. Thomas has identified
one, which he calls the ‘Harmony Ethic.” The second is closely
related to Weber’s “‘Protestant Ethic.”

This section, therefore, is devoted to a description of these values
and to the behavior associated with them. For if, as Evon Vogt
(1955, pp. 6-7) suggests, values are selecting and regulatory processes,
an understanding of them is relevant to the examination of the Chero-
kee, in accordance with Thomas’ conceptual model.

THE HARMONY ETHIC
Thomas contends that the Harmony Ethic is central to the con-
servative Cherokee way of life. He says:

According to it, the Conservative tries to maintain harmonious interpersonal
relationships with his fellow Cherokee by avoiding giving offense on the negative

290 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Buiy. 196

side, and by giving of himself to his fellow Cherokee in regard to his time and his
material goods on the positive side.”

I have selected pertinent aspects of behavior which illustrate this
regnant value and which are also in sharp contrast to the behavior
of people who are not motivated by the Harmony Ethic.

INTERPERSONAL BEHAVIOR

The intermediary.— All groups have developed methods by which to
facilitate interaction; some of these devices are markedly different
from each other. Among the Conservative Cherokee there is a pre-
ferred way of behaving in certain dyadic situations in which one
person wishes to affect the behavior of another, for example, making
requests, reproaching others, and controlling children. The single
outstanding characteristic of this behavioral syndrome is the use of a
neutral third person in circumstances which could be conceived of as
threatening to amicable relationships.

It is readily apparent in incidents involving requests of one kind
or another. School children, including high school students, fre-
quently send another child to request permission of the teacher to
sharpen a pencil or to leave the room. Employers comment on the
same practice among people applying for work. In fact, I became
the neutral third person when Frances, an informant, wished to get
a job as a waitress. She mentioned this desire often, finally saying,
“T’d go to see the manager if I could get someone to go with me.”
I accompained her and made the initial overture to the manager.
Go-betweens are also used in court cases. Several local lawyers
have remarked on the frequency with which defendants, even those
who speak English, bring an intermediary to court through whom
they communicate.

This behavior is not confined to contacts with Whites or nonkins-
men. One informant family was occupying a house, rent-free, which
belonged to the wife’s aunt. Although the aunt wanted the couple to
move she did not approach them. Eventually she communicated her
desire to another, saying, ‘‘When I said they could live there, I didn’t
mean forever.”’ The neutral told the unwanted tenants that their
aunt wanted them to move.

There was another domestic situation which reached crisis propor-
tions in the eyes of the participants: A young 20-year-old girl who
lives with her parents had one child by a man, unknown to the writer.
A year or so later she bore a child to her maternal parallel cousin who
was living with the family. Her mother disapproved highly of this,

19 Robert K. Thomas, quoted by Gulick, 1960, pp. 135-136. For a more complete description and inter-
pretation of the Harmony Ethic, and associated Conservative values, see ibid., pp. 136-141.

rp EASTERN CHEROKEE GROUPS—KUPFERER 291

but would not let them marry because they were cousins. She com-
plained about the irregularity of her daughter’s relationship to many
others in the community. Subsequently, her daughter became
pregnant by her cousin again. Her mother then visited her mother-in-
law, and discussed the problem. The girl’s grandmother went to see
the Chief about the situation. At no time during this period was the
boy approached directly, by his aunt or his mother, about leaving.

Another example of the employment of the indirect method to
approach or reproach people is seen in the case of an elderly woman
whose son drives a taxi for a livelihood. He charges his mother for
trips. When I expressed some surprise at this she said, ‘““He shouldn’t
dome that way. I told some of my friends about it down in Cherokee.
They must have jumped on that boy because for a long time he quit
charging me. Now he do it again.”

The pattern of using an intercessor is so firmly established that
when an Indian is confronted with a direct request (which often
happens in dealing with Whites) he draws another into the situation,
if possible. A social worker went to Ollie Bird to ask her to care for
some children in Big Cove. She came directly to the point, without
any preliminaries. Ollie, who speaks English, turned to her brother
who was visiting and spoke with him in Cherokee. After an extended
exchange, the brother said, “‘She’s got a lot to do here—hoe corn,
and make the garden. Maybe her sister could do it.”

There are occasions when a mediator is not available. Depending
upon the circumstances, one can predict the courses of action Con-
servatives will follow on such occasions. If a desire is not over-
whelming, or urgent, the Cherokee will go away unsatisfied. For
example, Lizzie went to visit a Rural White friend who had promised
her some flower cuttings. Getting the flowers was the purpose of the
visit for she spoke of it on the way. After a long stay, during which
the flowers were not mentioned by either principal, Lizzie departed
empty-handed. As we returned, she mentioned several times how
much she wanted some flowers like that. Should, however, the need
for something be very important to the individual, he will phrase the
request in the form of a positive statement: “I guess I’ll ride with you
to Cherokee.”” When dissatisfactions with people or situations occur
and a disinterested party is not available, direct encounters are still
avoided. An informant felt that too many demands were being made
upon her at work but she did not mention her dissatisfaction to her
employer. She simply quit. When asked what she had told the boss
she said, “‘I didn’t tell him nothing; I just didn’t go back to work the
next day.”’ Related to this, is the fact that the Cherokee may also
quit without notice if he is directly or openly reprimanded by a
superior.

292 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 196

Parental control of children is essentially a dyadic situation,
involving a parent and a child. Reliance upon indirection is also
visible in this relationship. Generally, children are raised permissively
and are seldom coerced unless they step too far out of line. But when
this occurs an adult tells the child tostop and threatens him by saying
that a “booger,” a ‘‘skilly,” or a unega (White person) will get him.
In this way a symbolic agent, external to the dyad relationship, is
introduced. This pattern of behavior occurs repetitively among
Conservative parents. Habitual use of an external sanctioning agent
does not, however, obviate direct parental interference. Yet, when
an adult does resort to more direct methods, these actions are not
preceded by a series of threats or promises to punish. The action
takes place quickly after the child has been told to stop. The general
tendency is for the adult not to identify himself as the source of
authority.

The use of a mediator is a reflection of the Harmony Ethic in specific
behavior. It functions to reduce friction in situations which could give
rise to conflict. Employing an intercessor removes both actors from
the immediate tense circumstance; it resembles psychological with-
drawal. Where a mediator is not present, often a physical withdrawal
occurs. In either event, direct altercation is avoided. Controlling
children through the use of a symbolic external agent is an aspect of
the same principle. The parent appears to the children in a neutral
role rather than in an authoritarian or threatening role.

Generosity—Cherokee pride themselves on their generosity.
Tourist literature originating in the Cherokee Information Center
mentions that the Indians are generous and hospitable. Other
students of the Cherokee have also identified this trait. In reflecting
upon what I have seen, it occurs to me that generosity is, indeed, a
characteristic of the people, but it does not take the same form among
all of them.

Conservatives state that ‘Indians are good to everybody’;
“Stinginess is bad.”’ If one is at their home around mealtime, they
do not extend a formal invitation to stay to dinner. The unwary
visitor finds that a place has been set for him as a matter of course
and he is expected to eat. A guest seldom thanks his host; he simply
gets up after a meal and wanders out of the house. Nor does one
ordinarily receive thanks for a gift. I gave a good coat to a woman who
needed it badly. She said, upon receiving it, ‘It be all right; you can
leave it I guess.”” The writer did have one gift acknowledged, although
indirectly. The daughter of the recipient told her, ‘‘Mamma sure
did like those flowers you gave her.”

The pattern of generosity is the norm among the Conservative
segment of the population; it is predictable. But it is not without

7 a a EASTERN CHEROKEE GROUPS—KUPFERER 293

its inconveniences and burdens, particularly since the Cherokee have
been drawn into a money economy. Occasionally people withdraw
from a situation in order to avoid its operation. An informant
said that “he [her husband] don’t go over to Russell’s any more to
get his hair cut. They are always out of something—coffee or flour—
and he has to get it for them.”

Generosity of this type is not unrelated to the use of a neutral
person in favor-seeking situations. Loans are sought through the use
of a third person and are seldom repaid; the lender rarely asks for
the return of his money. But he often complains to others that his
money has not been returned. Making requests of others (for loans
or for repayment) can be viewed as disruptive for both principals.
The possibility exists that an individual either does not wish to grant
the request or is unable to do so. If he refuses another to his face,
he offends, for the Harmony Ethic stipulates giving of oneself and
possessions. When the neutral is used, there is no face-to-face inter-
action which might involve refusal. The kind of generosity we have
been describing is peculiar to the Conservatives. Of generosity of
others we shall have more to say later.

Aggression and aggressiveness.—Before I leave the general subject
of interpersonal relationships, it is necessary to say something about
aggression and aggressiveness.” Although the two terms have dif-
ferent connotations, I have chosen to discuss them simultaneously.
In this case aggression refers to direct physical assaults, or to direct
oral exchanges. By aggressiveness is meant the type of behavior,
including initiative, forcefulness, or individualism which is necessary
for success, according to some people.

Both aggression and aggressiveness are typically lacking in Con-
servative behavior. It is only when people have been drinking that
direct physical encounters or quarrels take place. Any account of a
fight between two Conservatives always includes a remark to the
effect that they were drunk. Just as physical aggression is absent,
so is the kind of aggressiveness or single-mindedness necessary for
business success or individual achievement. Classroom competitive-
hess is not apparent among their children. Only in Indian ball and
its pallid substitute, softball, do aggression and aggressiveness occur.
Here they are circumscribed and institutionalized by the game.

NONEMPIRICAL BELIEFS

This category has been divided into two somewhat related phases;
retention of the belief in immanent justice, and imitative magic, signs,
and omens.

2% For a more complete interpretation and explanation of aggression and aggressiveness, see Gulick, 1960,
pp. 141-145.

294. BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLn. 196

Concept of immanent justice—One segment of behavior which is
clearly related to the Harmony Ethic is the persistence of the faith
in automatic retribution. It functions as a form of social control
which relieves the Cherokee from controlling each other through
direct interference.

A test of immanent justice, given by the Indian Education Research
staff to five western tribes, was adapted and administered to Cherokee
children and to White children (Havighurst and Neugarten, 1955).
A selected sample of 161 Cherokee children, ages 8-19, was tested
and the findings were compared with those from White children of
the same age from Jackson County. Table 12 shows these findings.

'TaBLe 12.—Percentage of responses indicating belief in immanent justice among
Cherokee children and White children

Age, 8-11 Age, 12-19
Percent Percent
Number Number
Q.A Q. B Q. A Q.B
WYATT GS 3 ee te Se ee ee 35 71. 42 68. 57 95 40. 00 21. 50
@herekeds< 5 5 pes oi ihg i ae Pia. 94 (Liee-7; 70, 22 67 73. 13 68. 65

ironies aoequenee: Cuetinw Al \Why Gaye tiGiieant: oor wedan] (nates Wee
had not stolen the fish would he have cut his foot?

The difference in the proportion believing in immanent justice be-
tween the White 8-1l-year-olds and the White 12-19-year-olds is
statistically significant. The probability is less than 0.05 that it
occurred by chance.”?! The proportionate difference in the belief
between the Indian 8-11-year-olds and the Indian 12—19-year-olds
is probably a result of chance variation. There is no significant
difference between Indians of the 8—ll-year-old group and their
White counterparts. The difference between the Indian adolescent

21 The test of “Significance of Difference Between Proportions” was utilized on the answers to the ques-
tions for:
White 8-11-year-olds— White 12-19-year-olds
Indian 8-11-year-olds—Indian 12-1S-year-olds
Indian 8-11-year-olds—W hite 8-11-year-olds
Indian 12-19-year-olds— White 12-19-year-olds

The distribution of characteristics for samples compared were tested by the formula:

CEE ATR A)
ops, pr=-/duitu NiN3

a A Ps;Ni+-Ps2N2
Nit+-N2

where:

In each case we tested the null hypothesis that the ‘‘difference between the proportions of those believing
in immanent justice was due to chance variation.’’ The 0.05 level of significance was used. See Hagood
and Price, 1952, pp. 313-320.

AerTHnoy, PAP. EASTERN CHEROKEE GROUPS—KUPFERER 295

group and the White adolescent group is statistically significant.
The probability of chance variation is much less than 0.05.

In a further refinement, the older group of Indian respondents was
reclassified into two tentative groups: Conservative Indians and others
(including Generalized Indians and Rural Whites). This reclassifi-
cation resulted in findings which suggest that among the Conservative
adolescents, the retention of the belief is almost universal. The
proportion of the Conservative cases which retains the belief is, by
inspection, significantly different from the proportion of other Chero-
kee adolescents which retains the belief.

The faith persists in different forms into adult life. I once made
a comment to two women on the amount of money a certain entre-
preneur must be making. One of them said, “It isn’t good to be
rich; you might die.” The rationale for this statement touches on
the Conservative value of generosity. In the eyes of the Conserva-
tive, anyone who has money must be stingy, and stinginess is an
unseemly trait to be avoided.

The belief is also reflected in statements made about the cause of
illness. Sickness is often attributed to ‘‘being bad” or “not doing
right.”” Other vicissitudes are also interpreted as being a result of
not doing right. Alfred was a heavy drinker. His wife lost a baby
right after its birth. ‘“They were so broken up over losing that baby
that Alfred quit drinking. He even got up in church and said that
he’d quit.”

The notion of automatic consequences is present in many of the
Cherokee myths. For example, there is a story of a boy who, con-
trary to his father’s instructions, went to the river to play. After
he had joined some other boys in a canoe, it began to rock and tipped
the disobedient boy into the water.

An Indian doctor put it most explicitly, ‘In the old days, the people
used to know the rules, used to know what to do. Now some of the
young people don’t care; they don’t do right. They going to be
sorry; they going to see they are wrong.”

Imitative magic and signs and omens.—Thomas (MS. a, p. 22)
states that the Conservative Cherokee still sees an ordered universe
much as his ancestors did. Evidence for the persistence of this
world view,”” can be seen in the beliefs revealing simple cause and
effect, and in the credence which is placed in omens. These two
phenomena are part of the way in which the Cherokee sees a har-
monious ordering of his world. Several of these beliefs have been

22 For a discussion of world views and their entrenchment in present-day Indian tribal culture see Thomp-
son, 1948.

296 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 196

selected to illustrate the extent to which convictions about the nature
of things are inherent in Conservative culture.”

Many of the beliefs are of the type which Frazer (1958, pp. 12-15)

calls imitative magic. We heard a mother say, “I don’t want this
new baby scratched with a bear claw. That other boy was, and it
made him too mean. He could be scratched with a turtle: that
will make him stout.”” Another said:
My mother says if you scratch them over the eye with a lizard they’ll go to sleep
wherever they are, but it makes them bad to climb. My sister did that, her
first one sleeps, but the others didn’t do like they told us they would; but they are
bad to climb. Sometimes, I think some of the people catch the little ones and
scratch them with something so they will grow up like they think they should,
and the parents don’t know anything about it.

The Indian ball teams are scratched with ironwood so that the
players will be tough and will not fall as much. Similarly, babies
scratched with ironwood are saved from the frequent falls associated
with learning to walk.

Aberrant behavior is frequently imputed to a variant of this prin-
ciple. The family of an elderly matron became concerned when she
began to wander about the community. Her daughter said:
Something going to happen to her, like she gonna be crazy. She never stay home.
The old people used to say if you didn’t stay home 7 days [to become accustomed
to the loneliness] after someone died, you’d never stay home again, and she didn’t
stay home after Daddy died. I believe what the old people say .... She’s
never stayed home since.

The Cherokee idea of planned parenthood concludes these illustra-
tions. In order to space births, the placenta of the first or second
birth is buried a certain number of mountain ridges away. The
number of ridges corresponds to the number of years desired between
conceptions. Another informant reported that the placenta should
be buried according to arms’ distances away from the house, covered
with seven rocks, and seven corncobs laid ‘‘crisscross.” ‘“The babies
will come every 4 years, then.”

The realm of portents and witches has significance for many
people. For some, their belief is strong enough to induce appre-
hension and consequent action. In Soco, the fear of whippoorwills
is pervasive. As a consequence, many residents of the area take pains
to shoot them or otherwise dispatch them. Lizzie, an elderly in-
formant, is especially fearful of them. Several of my evening visits
with her and her family were interrupted by the quavering call of

23 For an exhaustive study of these esoteric premises the reader is referred to Mooney and Olbrechts, 1932.

Several of the beliefs which we shall report are found in it; others have been distorted through the years,
but they still show affinities with material in the manuscript.

fo ge EASTERN CHEROKEE GROUPS—KUPFERER 297

these night birds and a subsequent hunt in which we all participated.
Lizzie said:

One time one came and sat right on the roof about 4 o’clock. I got a stick and
hit it. I said another one is coming, and sure enough the next night another one
came and I killed it too. You are supposed to ask who they are. A person in
Birdtown died and one in Soco; they could have been them.

I mentioned the whippoorwill hunting to an Indian doctor. He

nodded and remarked, “It might be a witch. The Bible said that
there will be more and more witches.” ‘Where in the Bible?”
I inquired. ‘In Rome, some of those chapters.” An elderly woman
said in regard to witches that after Mrs. Panther died, she bled for
2 days. ‘Her son said she was a witch, and I think so too.” I
mentioned the night birds to her. She said, ‘‘They [the people in
Soco] think they be witches, but I don’t know. They aren’t up here.
I killed one once, next year my husband died.”’ (I leave it up to the
reader to judge the implications of this remark.) The same informant
later made the statement that there are brownies. ‘There is one in
this house [gesturing toward her own] and one in that one over
there .... You don’t see them unless something bad going to
happen. They like a sign.” In response to a question about
brownies, a Soco resident said she didn’t have one in her house now,
but where she had lived formerly there were some. ‘They stay out
in the woods, mostly around the rhododendron slicks.”’ She related
the following story:
There was a woman once who was in the woods and put her little girl down, and
when she came back she couldn’t find her. She looked and then she saw her
with a brownie. That brownie was feeding her crawfish. When he held it in
his hand it turned red just like it had been cooked. The brownie told the little
girl her momma was looking for her. That woman told about it . . . and soon
she and the little girl died .... They didn’t last long. That’s what happened
when they told about it.

Foxes are also thought to be omens. Two brothers of a younger
Indian woman heard the bark of a fox on several occasions. Follow-
ing each incident something tragic occurred. On the first occasion
the wife of one of them died; after the next, the small baby of the other
died. Their sister said, ‘‘Neither of them even likes to talk about a
fox now, and I believe it, too.”’ A cross-check on the distribution of
this belief led an informant in another section of the reservation to say:
Well, I’ve heard them [other folks] say so ... but I don’t know whether I
believe that or not. We have too many foxes around here. You kin see them
most any time. Course they haven’t come right into the yard and barked.
Maybe I think if they do that, somebody going to die.

There is a similarity between the reactions to the possible dangers
of whippoorwills and the faith in the portentous quality of the fox.

298 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 196

While both of the informants express doubts about the importance of
one or the other, neither is willing to disavow completely his belief.
Credulity in respect to signs is not confined to older Cherokee Con-
servatives. A young wife lost her brother during my stay in Cherokee.
After the funeral I stopped in to extend my sympathies. She said,
‘““You know Roy French and Jim Driver?’ She continued:

Jim was coming down to get Roy the morning George died. He saw a ball of
fire rolling down the hill, and it went to pieces right by the house. He told Roy
about it and said it meant bad news . . . that somebody was going to die and
George did die. Johnny [her husband] and I were talking the other night. We
wondered why White people didn’t hear strange things and see things like
Indians do. Of course, some of the old White people who live back in the hills do,
but most White people don’t.

Mary related other stories of strange happenings in her mother’s
house after George’s death. She concluded by saying that she would
not under any circumstances stay up there now by herself.

Imitative magic has its adherents among the most traditional
people. Faith in omens and witches also finds greatest expression
among them. We have illustrated through the selected units of
behavior that Thomas’ portrayal of the dominant values of the Con-
servative Cherokee is accurate. He states further that associated
with the presence of dominant values is a concept of self which is
peculiarly their own. I shall turn to this postulate to complete the
description of the Conservatives.

CONCEPT OF SELF

The evidence (which, to be sure, is confined to verbalizations and
overt behavior rather than any depth analysis) indicates that the
Conservatives are sure of their identity as Indians. Thomas points
to this awareness as a signal characteristic of Conservatives. In their
conception of themselves, they are a separate order of people and
largely unconcerned about others’ opinions of them (cf. pp. 245-246).
Although, in conversation, Conservatives seldom make this concept as
explicit as Thomas has, they do make remarks which imply that they
consider themselves to be a different order of people from the rest of
the tribe, particularly those who are obviously genetically mixed.
“T’m a fullblood,” an elderly man said; ‘There ain’t many Indians
left.”’ Another informant, Aggie, said about her obviously mixed
great-grandchild, ‘““Her Daddy is a White man. He brought my
granddaughter and the baby home 2 years ago, and said he was going
to hunt a job. I guess he’s still huntin’. You’d think if he didn’t
want to stay with an Indian, he wouldn’t have married one. I
always say I’m a fullblood; I’m not because John Ross, who was part
Scotch, was my Daddy’s Daddy.”

i ee ae EASTERN CHEROKEE GROUPS—KUPFERER 299

Lizzie, whose every word and action testifies to the attitude that
Indians are different, refers often to the Removal. ‘‘Andrew Jackson
did it . . . if he didn’t like Indians he should have gone back across
the ocean; that’s where he was from.” Lizzie visited an old school-
mate. I asked, “Is she an Indian?” ‘‘No, she’s White. She’s a
Hornbuckle.” J said, “TI thought the Hornbuckles were part Indian.”
“Well, just a little bit; she [sic] a White Indian.”

From all sides, one hears others described as White; the fact that
they are admixtures is of no significance to the Conservative. Appear-
ance plays an important role in these judgments, but it is not the whole
story. Behavior is evaluated according to standards of like-Indians
or not like-Indians. One elderly Conservative informant criticized
her daughter saying, ‘She begin to laugh too loud like White people.
Indians not like that.”” A woman, almost White in appearance, was
described thus: ‘‘She’s too bossy, Indians not bossy.”’ Examples of
this sort are legion, and combine to reinforce the idea that Conserva-
tives have a well-defined system by which they guide their own activi-
ties and by which others are judged. ‘The Conservatives show little
inclination to change their ways or to be affected by the opinion of
others. This position is spelled out in statements to the effect: ‘If
they don’t like Indians, why don’t they go away?” ‘That superin-
tendent don’t love Indians” or ‘“They must want us to be White.”
There is never a hint that they might alter their position. To them
it is a simple matter: there are Indians and there are Whites, and if
the latter do not like Indians, it is no fault of the Indians.

THE PROTESTANT ETHIC

The dominant value of the Conservatives is the Harmony Ethic.
Antithetical to this is the value system reflected in the statements
and behavior of the Cherokee Middle Class. We have called this
system the Protestant Ethic, following Max Weber’s conceptualiza-
tion. There is, according to Weber, a constellation of beliefs and
conduct arising from Puritanism and other Protestant sects which
has paved the way for modern capitalism:

. . it is not the doctrine of a religion but that form of ethical conduct upon
which premiums are placed that matters. ... For Puritanism, that conduct
was a certain methodical, rational way of life . . . proving oneself before God . . .
proving oneself before man . .. they helped to deliver the spirit of modern
capitalism; its specific ethos: the ethos of the modern bourgeois middle class.
[Weber, 1946, pp. 320-321.]

Puritan teaching disseminated values of planning and self-control to
economic activities. In short, it encouraged worldly success. On the
heels of the internalization of the theological doctrines which supported
the conduct, came the secularization process in which practical indus-

300 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 196

triousness replaced the search for salvation. There arose ‘‘an amaz-
ingly good conscience”? concerning the acquisition of wordly goods
(Bendix, 1960, pp. 85-90).

There is a distinction made in the literature between the ‘‘old
middle class’”—entrepreneurs, independent businessmen, and the
professions—and the ‘new middle class’’—salaried employees, the
bureaucratic officials. In the new middle class the basic values have
been altered to include career emphasis, adjustment, and security,
although success is considered to be more than an accident (Kahl,
1956, pp. 193-198). As we have pointed out elsewhere, the Cherokee
Middle Class, with the exception of a few career employees in the
Bureau of Indian Affairs, are all engaged in business enterprises.
The members, with one or two exceptions, mirror the sentiments of
the ‘‘old middle class’’; the secularized Protestant Ethic. Individual
responsibility, self-discipline, hard work, and thrift—basic ingredients
of the bourgeois ethos—are virtues echoed by this group of Cherokee.
They participate in the American Dream,™ the “rags to riches”
sequence, which is the anticipated result of adherence to the doctrines
of the Protestant Ethic.

INTERPERSONAL BEHAVIOR

Directness—The intermediary, a constituent of the Harmony
Ethic, is not utilized by those of the Cherokee Middle Class. In
fact, it is a source of irritation to these people. Schoolteachers,
including those who are Indian, attempt to discourage the practice
among the children; employers deplore it. They all stress forth-
rightness and directness in their dealings with others. One informant
said emphatically, ‘If I have something on my mind, I speak out.”
This theme is apparent in their behavior. In situations where
assistance is needed they solicit it directly without recourse to another
person. Of course, requests are often preceded by such remarks as,
“T hate to bother you” or “I know this is an imposition.” One bad
winter day, a cafe employee was snowbound at home. The business
owner asked, “Harriet, would you mind driving down to get her in
time for the noon hour rush?” ‘There are always attempts made to
discharge obligations which they feel they have incurred. In this
specific illustration, payment was not accepted for my lunch.

Closely related to directness in dealing with others, is the empha-
sis placed upon ‘‘keeping one’s word.” “If I say I’m going to do
something, I do it. None of this putting off, or avoiding the issue.”
John, one Middle Class informant, said, ‘‘When I promise the kids
that I’ll take them somewhere, fishing perhaps, I do it. I want

% See Merton, 1957, p. 139, for cultural axioms necessary to the maintenance of the “American Dream.”

ANTHROP. PAP.
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them to know that they can depend on me keeping my promises.
I want them to learn, too, that they have to keep theirs.’

Statements about forthrightness, reliability, and directness, re-
flect a Middle Class view of what constitutes “proper behavior.”
Such statements often arise in the course of conversations about the
“fullbloods,’’ who are considered unreliable and “suspicious” 2 by
Middle Class standards. One young informant asked, “Why do
they sit and stare at you like that, or talk about you in Cherokee, or
not hardly speak when you come up to them?”

We have spoken of directness as though it were a characteristic
confined to the Cherokee Middle Class. However, Thomas’ Rural
Whites and Generalized Indians are indistinguishable from the
Middle Class in this regard. These three categories of people are
in sharp contrast to the Conservatives.

Generosity —We have commented upon the fact that Conservatives
pride themselves on their generosity. However, this trait is not
exclusively theirs. Other Cherokees are hospitable and generous in
a manner more familiar to the White observer. Because we used
food as an example of Conservative generosity we shall use it once
more to describe generosity among the non-Conservative Cherokees.
Sharing of food differs somewhat between the Middle Class, on the
one hand, and the Rural Whites and Generalized Indians on the other.
Among the Rural Whites and Generalized Indians one often hears,
“Come eat with us,” or “Better stay with us for dinner.’”’ These
invitations are informal, and usually occur when a visitor is present
as mealtime approaches. It is typical of “country” hospitality.
These people do not often extend formal invitations for meals to be
served sometime in the future. However, the Middle Class, while
they may follow the above pattern, also exchange more formal dinner
invitations with one another. Essentially, they follow the pattern of
social amenities observed elsewhere among middle class Americans.

Of course, the sharing of food is not the only expression of gener-
osity. The Generalized Indians, Rural Whites, and Middle Class
help out those less fortunate than they, within their ability to do so.
One typically impoverished Rural White farmer gave some land to
an unwed Conservative mother and helped her build a house on it.
Yet, he often comments on the shiftlessness of the ‘‘fullbloods.”’
Joe, a Generalized Indian informant, always shares his garden produce
with his neighbors, and collects clothing to take up to needy families
in Big Cove. Margaret, another Generalized Indian informant,
keeps two or three of the older Conservative women supplied with

25 Suspiciousness, as a trait of the Conservatives, has been discussed in Gulick, 1960, p. 187. He suggests
that it is not suspiciousness as such, but rather, an aspect of the Cherokee’s inclination to wait and see what
others are going to do, in order to guide his own actions.

747-014—66——_20

302 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 196

food and clothing throughout the year. A Middle Class woman
spoke of taking clothing and food to a ‘fullblood” family, when the
husband was sick. ‘‘We took enough food to last 10 days; it was
gone in 3. Everybody in the neighborhood came over and ate on
them.”” Another Middle Class couple, the Elders, aids a large family
by providing clothing and part-time work for the wife. Mr. Elder
said, ‘I don’t mind helping people out who try; they really deserve
help.”” Comments such as these, which often accompany acts of
generousness, are closely related to the importance placed on self-
reliance by adherents of the Protestant Ethic.

Aggression and aggressiveness.—Agegression, as it has been defined,
occurs in an idiosyncratic fashion among those Cherokees who are
not Conservatives. Some individuals are more outspoken than
others; some will “put up with” more than others. This is true of
Generalized Indians, Rural Whites, and the Middle Class. One
Generalized mother told the writer, ““We taught our kids not to fight
with others in the school yard. But they picked on ours, so I told
my daughter to beat the tar out of them.’”’ A Middle Class informant
spoke of a rather serious quarrel she had had with her husband over
some aspect of their domestic life. Another woman, a Rural White,
told me, “My husband just won’t fight with me; he walks away.
Makes me so darn mad!’ I witnessed many cases of bickering among
those who comprise the latter three groups in Thomas’ continuum.
However, only two serious quarrels were observed. But these inci-
dents, coupled with accounts given by various informants, suggest
that the Generalized Indians and the Rural Whites, along with the
Middle Class, do not participate in the system which guides the
Conservative’s handling of aggression.

Ageressiveness is also manifested on an individual basis. All of
the Cherokees who operate businesses have a minimum of agegressive-
ness which permits them to succeed in a commercial milieu. The
farmers engaged in more than subsistence type farms also demonstrate
this characteristic. Those who work in a white-collar capacity must
meet the competitive demands placed upon them in the Civil Service.
That this varies from person to person, however, is revealed in the
answer one Middle Class informant gave to a question about his
career.

I just don’t have that much ambition I guess . . . I guess I could have risen in
the Indian Service if I had been willing to take transfers to other places, but I
just didn’t want to leave here . . . I’m just conteut to stay here and get along.
Aggressiveness and ambition are part of the value syndrome of
self-reliance, discipline, and individualism to which we now turn.

ANTHROP. PaP.
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SELF-RELIANCE

Middle Class.—Self-reliance, self-discipline, and individual endeavor
are cardinal precepts of the Protestant Ethic. And it is to these
qualities that the Cherokee Middle Class Indians attribute their
success; it is to the lack of these qualities that the present status of
the Conservative is related, according to the Middle Class.

“Persistence and personal effort pay off,’’ said one informant.
“When my Daddy bought this land, it was nothing but an old broom
sage pasture. Now, because we built this business on it, and put
everything we had into it, some people are jealous.”” Another person
maintained that, ‘“There could be a lot of rich Indians, but they won’t
work.”’ In reference to the proclivities of the Conservatives to
“‘loaf,’”’ one young person asserted, “I’ve worked for everything I’ve
ever gotten. If I lost my job tomorrow, I’d go dig ditches or wash
windows for a living, but I’d never starve to death.”

Utterances like those above are legion among the Middle Class.
But nowhere is their basic orientation better seen than in their criti-
cisms of Federal policies toward the Indians. Frequently, older
persons of this group refer to a period of 40 or more years ago as a
time of plenty:

Everyone had hogs and cattle, and there was grain in the bins. Now look at the
land. It is going back to woods. Somewhere the Indian Service has missed
the boat ... it has encouraged dependence. They [Conservatives] can’t cut
timber without asking; some of them even ask when they should plant their
gardens. You take an old bitch who has pupped in the woods; she and those
pups won’t starve. But a house dog turned out will die... that’s the way
with a lot of them.

Another elderly informant said, ‘“‘Why I remember the first time an
Indian begged here . . . and the Government is responsible . . . the
only thing the Government ever did for the Indian was to take away
his [sic] initiative.” A nearly White Indian ** complained:

The Government keeps them [Conservatives] stirred up. Everything that
happens is blamed on the White Indians . . . Do you know for every siugle
Indian there are three Government employees . . . the reason they want to
keep the Indians down is so they can keep their jobs.

A specific Government program that is roundly castigated is the
Federal welfare service. Indians of the Middle Class contend that
little good will come from welfare programs. “I don’t like this
welfare business,’ asserted one woman. ‘There is work if people
would only go to it . . . they are just going to get big corns on their
tails sitting collecting their relief checks . . . and I know kids right
now who think they are going to get money from the Government,

26 Cf. p. 246, for discussion of ‘‘ White Indians.”

304 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Bunn. 196

too.”’? Others suggest that public assistance is a factor in the ille-
gitimacy rate, since many unwed mothers qualify for aid to dependent
children under the Social Security Act.

The subject of land allotment is a tense one, and is frequently
discussed by these people. They are not all in favor of it, despite
their critical attitude toward the Government and toward the Con-
servatives. ‘Those who favor land allotment do so for several reasons.
One person claimed that allotment would be a good thing, “So that
they [Conservatives] would get off their butts and do something to
support themselves.” Another man argues for it for the “sake of the
fullbloods”’ and because he feels he is being restricted by present
business regulations. ‘The way things are now, it holds us back.”

Those who are not in favor of land allotment feel that it would
cause a great deal of heartache and acrimony. ‘How is the land to be
divided? Will people keep the land to which they now have posses-
sory rights? If so, what about the people, and there are some, who
don’t own any land?’”’ One businessman said, ‘Of course, I would
benefit personally from it. I’d be able to get a large amount of capital
to improve my business. But truthfully, the bulk of the people just
aren’t ready for it. Some couldn’t even pay their taxes if they owned
it.’ A count of 10 Middle Class informants, well known to the
writer, disclosed 5 who were adamant in their demand for allotment
and 5 who felt they personally would profit by it but believed it would
be a mistake for the reservation at the present time.

Rural Whites and Generalized Indians.—As individual autonomy and
underemphasis of self is the nucleus of the Harmony Ethic,” so rugged
individualism is the heart of the Protestant Ethic. It is appropriate
to examine Rural Whites and Generalized Indians in terms of this
dimension of self-reliance. They present an extremely complex and
confused picture. For example, Rural Whites in no way guide their
activities by any aspect of the Conservative value system. As was
pointed out, they are generous to individuals and helpful within their
abilities to be so. But some of them have worked hard all their lives,
and are still recipients of public assistance. One hard-working Rural
White wife admits that she does not know what her family would do
without assistance. Her husband seems to feel no embarrassment about
receiving help. Another Rural White, who aids others when he can, is,
however, extremely critical of those who receive financial support
through public assistance, or from the special welfare service of the
Bureau of Indian Affairs. ‘I’ve been working for 50 years, the lean
and the fat ones. I could go out and get a job right now if need be.”
The Rural Whites tend to agree with the ‘‘moderates” of the Middle

27 For a good explanation of this apparently paradoxical position, see Gulick, 1960, pp. 141-142.

A P. PAP.
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Class with regard to land allotment. ‘The people aren’t ready for it,
particularly the old folks in the hills.”

Rural Whites value individual efforts and personal independence,
but the extent to which their efforts yield commensurate financial
returns varies. Consequently, although they cherish the idea of
independence and individualism, some are not able to attain it in
fact. Circumstances such as poor health, poor land, large families,
and bad location of land, plus an attachment to the mountains con-
spire to keep them economically depressed. Their faith in the efficacy
of hard work is somewhat diminished. They have become resigned to
having fewer material goods. Their aspirations and expectations for
their children are lower, but they do hope for some improvement.
Some of the Rural Whites, for whom diligence and good fortune have
combined to provide them with an income adequate for a modest
standard of living, cling vigorously to the central theme of self-help.
Therefore, within this group there is a continuum both in standard of
living and in adherence to the primary value. People at the upper
end of the continuum are closer to the Middle Class, but they have
neither the education nor the economic resources to support the style
of life of the Middle Class, as yet.

Distinguishing the dominant values of Generalized Indians is also
a vexing problem. Thomas contends that although they are incon-
sistent in the values they verbalize, they behave as if they still believed
in the old Conservative values (cf. p. 246). We have no evidence to
support this. In most respects our evidence for the Generalized
Indians is negative; that is to say, we know what they do not say or do.
If we examine the aspects of behavior which reflect the Harmony
Ethic, we find that these people, as a group, do not exhibit those
patterns which mirror it. They do not rely on an intercessor. They
have neither a ‘‘wait and see” attitude nor the initial reticence which is
a constituent of the Harmony Ethic. Parents and children are out-
going in their interpersonal relationships. The beginning fieldworker
finds that they, like the Middle Class, accept Whites in a way which
facilitates the establishment of rapport.

Few of the Generalized Indians are completely self-employed.
Most of them work for an employer, either in some capacity for the
Government or in the manufacturing plants. Usually they are
steady and reliable employees. Among those who are self-employed
are carpenters, masons, truckdrivers, and small store owners. To
some degree there is a difference among them in the way they handle
money. Some are thrifty and plan for future expenditures. Others
have less regard for the “rainy day” or future wants. Some have
received unemployment compensation when out of work, or public
assistance when the breadwinner has undergone an extensive illness,

306 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 196

But many of them are against public welfare, at least in principle.
Callie, one of my Generalized Indian informants, reflected a commonly
held view when discussing one of her Rural White neighbors. ‘He
draws about $150 per month from the welfare . . . says he’s sickly,
but he’s just lazy and won’t work.’”’ Others express concern over the
illegitimacy rate on the reservation.

Usually the Generalized Indians feel that the people are not ready

for land allotment. One man said:
I can manage my own affairs and I could get a bank loan to build my house, too,
if I had title to the land . . . but look at “‘old Lady” Littlejohn. She has a good
piece of land on the highway. If somebody went to her with $300 in one-dollar
bills, she’d think that was a lot of money and she’d sell it to the first White man
who came along. Then where would she go?

In summary, Generalized Indian values are somewhat muddy.
Our facts support the contention that they are oriented more closely
to the Protestant Ethic, despite a few resemblances to Conservatives.
After we have presented all the evidence, we shall return to this
subject for a consideration of its meaning and implications for
acculturation.

NONEMPIRICAL BELIEFS

According to Weber, one aspect of the Protestant Ethic is a rejection
of magic and the attainment of mastery over the world (Bendix,
1960, pp. 156-157). Assuredly, the Cherokee Middle Class meets
this criterion as much as middle class people do elsewhere. They
reject the esoteric beliefs to which the Conservatives cling. Many
label them “silly superstitions,” while others disavow the beliefs
but are more tolerant of the “old timey’” Indians who do believe.
A former nurse said, “I never interfered with their beliefs if I could
help it; they took the placenta and buried it. It’s a funny thing, too,
some of those people did have babies several years apart.” ** Many
of the younger Middle Class people are not even conversant with the
lore. J explained some of the lore to one informant who said, ‘‘Here
J am supposed to be an Indian and you know more about them than
I do.” Although most of these people have discarded the old Cher-
okee folklore they are not without some form of nonrational beliefs;
black cats, broken mirrors. But by and large, they place their
faith in science and technology.

Rural Whites and Generalized Indians sometimes talk about the
omens in which the Conservatives have faith, although they do not
admit to belief in them. One Rural White man carries a buckeye for
luck. Occasionally, older Generalized Indians reflect some uneasiness.
Annie, a Carlisle graduate of many years ago, and a pillar of her

%8 See p. 296 for a discussion of placenta burial and its relationship to spaced pregnancies.

are al EASTERN CHEROKEE GROUPS—KUPFERER 307

church, asked if I had heard the whippoorwills. ‘TI don’t like them,”
she said. “Lula says that they are just little birds, but I think they
are scary sounding.” Owls also had a significance in the old order.
The children of one Generalized Indian family killed one. Their
father said, in response to my query, ‘‘Oh, they’ve heard stories about
owls from the other kids.”

Certainly, fragments of the once large body of lore do hang on
among Generalized Indians and Rural Whites who live in closer
proximity to Conservatives than do people of the Middle Class.
Given man’s tendencies to persist through long periods of time, we
should anticipate that some of these people will not have sloughed
off all the constituents of the old tradition.

CONCEPT OF SELF

Middle Class.—It became apparent to me very early in my associa-
tion with Middle Class Cherokees that self-rejection or ambivalence
over Indian ancestry was a fairly common phenomenon. Seven of
the ten informants used for the most intensive case analysis admitted
to conflicting emotions. Others by their remarks or by their be-
havior, also suggest some ambivalence. I shall let a few of them
speak for themselves in the following examples.

A young woman, a graduate of a small college, suspects that she
really has no Indian ancestry, or if she does, it is only 1/64 even
though she is listed as 1/16. She said, “Our family has always been
encouraged to marry White. My mother was White, and my grand-
father said to marry White.” This young woman recognizes this
ambivalence in others and calls it “Indianitis.” One evening she
asked me, “‘Do you think I’m in conflict over which group to identify
with; do you think I don’t know whether I’m an Indian or a White?”

IT asked a White Indian, of about 50, whether he felt like an Indian.
He replied, ‘‘Well, it depends; I’m proud of my Indian blood. You
know there’s a saying, ‘white skin but red heart.’ ”’ He continued,
“My kids are proud of their blood, too, but they don’t think of them-
selves as Indians.’”’ This informant has had a problem with alcohol.
A relative said that his psychiatrist helped him to see that he had an
“inferiority complex over being an Indian.”

Another Middle Class woman exhibits what seems to be a high
degree of anxiety about herself. It comes out most frequently in
joking behavior. She often refers to Whites as her betters. She was
refused as a donor by the annual blood bank collection. She talked
about this often in the days that followed, calling herself no good.
“All those ‘pale faces’ were giving blood and mine was no good;
that really hurt me.’”’ One evening some White visitors were dis-
cussing blood degrees. She said, “I’m 1/2 and that’s enough.”

308 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 196

Bill, a White Indian about 33, said, “I hate this place. God, I
don’t feel like much of anything, an outcast maybe . . . when I’m
here and see these Indians, I’m ashamed of how they look and be-
have. . . ashamed to be part Indian. But when I’m away and hear
people talk about Indians, then my blood boils.” He has frequent
spells of drunkeness, which cause his mother great concern. His
brother said one evening, after sharply criticizing Indians, ‘Of course
I’m an Indian, too; at least I suppose I think I’m one because I was
brought up here.”

There is one fullblood man, well educated and well traveled, who
has returned to Cherokee. He has been married twice, each time to a
White woman. He remarked that he never could become interested
in an Indian girl. “I dated a few Indian girls. . . but if I wanted
anything, I always went outside.” ‘Why?” I questioned. ‘Well,
they all seemed like sisters to me.’’ He, too, has a drinking problem.
When he talks about Indians, he uses phrases like ‘‘these Indians.”’
He has a brother who has legally changed his name to one which does
not suggest Indian affiliation, and who has left the area permanently.

Generalized Indians and Rural Whites——Generalized Indians, like
the Middle Class, frequently use such phrases as: ‘‘ Those Indians’’;
“They don’t care”; or “I can’t understand them,” when referring to
Conservatives. J am not sure that self-doubt reaches the same
intensity in them as it does in members of the Middle Class. Never-
theless, the following conversation implies that, at least among a
few, it has become a problem. Jack, a man of 38, was quite intoxicated
one evening. In typical fashion he listed his grievances. One of the
major ones was his wife. ‘‘My wife,” he said, “is a damn Indian. . . of
course I’m an Indian, too, but she’s a damn Indian. Come up and
see us; you'll see what I mean.” Jack, an only child, is nearly a full-
blood. He attended the boarding school until he enlisted in the Navy
during World War II. He speaks no Cherokee. His wife is a full-
blood from Snow Bird who comes from a Conservative family. During
this same conversation Jack mentioned that a Bureau of Indian
Affairs employee has given him a “hard time.” ‘Why?” I asked.
“Oh, she’s from Bryson, all those Bryson people think they are better
than we are. . . why, they won’t hardly be nice to you on the streets.”’

Rural Whites also use the third person when speaking of Conserva-
tives, and they are critical of Conservative ways. ‘The data are in-
conclusive as to the amount of ambivalence present in this group,
although there is some suggestion of it. One Rural White said of
the ‘‘fullbloods,” “If it weren’t for the White blood in the Indians
around here you’d be scalped tonight .... Those fullbloods hate
White Indians.” ‘Are you one?” I asked. ‘‘Hell yes, me and the
whole bunch of us!’ He suddenly changed the subject, asking,

ANTHROP. PAP.
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“Why the hell do White people love the niggers more than the Indians?
Why do they hate Indians?” I answered that I didn’t think that
most White people ever gave Indians a thought. ‘Likely that’s
true,” he said, “except for the White folks around here. Hell, the
niggers been voting; I just got the vote in the forties.’

There is no doubt that personal conflict is present among members
of the Middle Class with regard to self-acceptance and identification.
Generalized Indians and Rural Whites also exhibit some conflict, but,
except for a few cases, they are less verbal, less troubled about it, or
have thus far repressed their anxieties. The presence of this attitude
among certain of the Cherokee should come as no surprise. There
are many and complex reasons for this attitude. Some people felt
stigmatized by attending Indian schools; others have reacted to the
attitudes of the surrounding Whites toward Indians. White Indians
as a whole, are faced with the problem of dual reference groups.
Conservative behavior, which they do not understand, both embar-
rasses and angers them. These reasons which are, of course, inter-
related, combine in diverse ways in individual lives to induce
uncertainty and to weaken self-esteem.

CONCLUSIONS

The data of this chapter have been organized around two pivotal
value systems which are essentially antipodal to each other. As the
values are in contradistinction to each other, so are the people who
espouse them. Conservatives live by the Harmony Ethic. The
aspects of the Harmony Ethic on which this study has focused dis-
close that these qualities are present among most of our Conservative
cases. There is some slight relinquishing of faith in nonempirical
beliefs, and three informants no longer rely exclusively on inter-
mediaries. A few have adopted the form of generosity which was
described as part of the Protestant Ethic, although they continue to
manifest the Conservative pattern of generosity, too. Six Conserva-
tive informants have begun to exhibit a very modified pattern of self-
reliance, which typifies the Protestant Ethic. However, these six are
not “‘go-getters,” for they have not yet “exploited” their highway
business property.

The Protestant Ethic has its closest adherents among members of
the Middle Class. Rural Whites and Generalized Indians vary in
the extent to which this ethic shapes their judgments and guides
their behavior. However, I submit that, on the basis of this research,
these people do not view themselves or others through the lens of the
Harmony Ethic but through that of the Protestant Ethic, even though
it may be ‘‘scaled down.” 7°

20 See, for example, Merton, 1957, pp. 136-139, 149-153; Faris, 1960, pp. 1-5.

310 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLb. 196

Because of the pervasiveness of the Middle Class values derived
from the Protestant Ethic, even those Rural Whites and Generalized
Indians whose economic position is still insecure are inclined toward
these precepts. Their lack of success is ascribed to misfortune or
to some weakness in themselves. As a consequence of their more
precarious financial situation, and of the general isolation and lower
level of education in the mountain area in general, they have lower
aspirations for their offspring, although they do anticipate improve-
ment in material and educational matters for their children. General-
ized Indians, Rural Whites, and the Middle Class all cling to this
values system, but in various degrees of intensity. Table 13 sets
forth the distribution of the traits typifying the two basic values
systems, in terms of Thomas’ four acculturative groups.

TABLE 13.—Distribution of selected informants in terms of two dominant value
systems

Selected informants

Selected aspects of dominant value systems Conserv- General- Rural Middle
ative ized White Class
(No.=20) ee (No.=11)|(No.=12)
1

Harmony ethic:
Interpersonal behavior:

DUCTIN CCAR Yas oe Sa cea oe ee aero 17 (8*) Vga [cepa | PM a es
Gonergsibyeree see sk Ree OEE RAS Se oP hsths LZ BPE TV Oe. CLIN fe eee
Ageression—A geressiveness____--_----------------- | VaR le VPS ates | His ek lela ee ote 2 =

Nonempirical beliefs:
NTN SNOUGESLICO: 6 2os 2 eee =. =k ew ee Wi Wonka eee eee ee
Magic, signs, omen____-_-- 5 Soe.) ome # & ES: oS Ee 16 (4*) 4* * {hoe ite ae
Concept of self—Secure as an Indian____-______-------- 20) bonaeo soo eee ees eee
Protestant ethic:
Interpersonal behavior:

Wireeitiess: £8 Ley fee of ee ys eT See PERS aL EES 3* 10 ait 12
(GROTON OSG Ve re ge ng re er en eg of ll 11 ll
Aggression—A ggressiveness. -----------------------|------------ 7 6 8
Helirehan CO eke een ee ee oe 6* 10 10 12
Absence of nonempirical beliefs_______------- 2 7 a 12
Concepts of selfi—Overt ambivalence-_-...-....----.=---|----=------- 6 4 7

*Modified behavior in terms of given trait.

The analysis of the paramount values and associated behavior
demonstrates that the Cherokee cannot be placed in four groups on a
scale from ‘‘like Indian” to ‘‘unlike Indian.” They can, however,
be separated into two categories on the basis of their adherence to
one or the other values systems. The Conservatives are clearly a
distinct group, identifiable by their allegiance to the Harmony Ethic.
The others—the Generalized Indian, the Rural White, and the
Middle Class—who resemble each other far more than they resemble
Conservatives, are motivated by the Protestant Ethic.

To be sure, there are departures from the norms of each of the value
systems by members of both groups. There are six Conservatives
who have modified their behavior patterns in the direction of the

No ash per EASTERN CHEROKEE GROUPS—KUPFERER 311

Protestant Ethic. Those, however, who deviate from some of the
norms of the Protestant Ethic do not do so in the direction of the
Conservative ideal. Their departures are a function of the degree
to which they are committed to the ‘‘old middle class” ideals (cf.
p. 300).

The existence of the two values systems is evidence of accultura-
tion. The presence of variation among the adherents of the Prot-
estant Ethic suggests that, in addition to cultural change, other
changes have taken place. I believe that, in order to understand the
dynamics of change and the heterogeniety among this latter group of
Cherokee, an additional approach—social stratification—is required.

SUMMARY: A MODIFICATION OF THE THOMAS
CONTINUUM

This study has examined the complexities of cultural and social
diversity among the Eastern Cherokee. The preceding chapters
have presented evidence of extensive variations in health practices,
educational attitudes and behavior, and adherence to dominant
value systems. As we have seen, the differences between the Con-
servative and the non-Conservative Cherokee are due to accultura-
tion. Furthermore, I have suggested that differences among the
non-Conservatives are due to an internal differentiation; social class
behavior. Therefore, it is mcumbent upon me to modify the Thomas
construct by postulating a model which takes into account both
acculturation and social stratification.

SOCIAL AND CULTURAL PROCESSES IN THE FORMATION
OF CHEROKEE DIFFERENTIATION

The presence in Cherokee of people who are obviously dissimilar
forces the recognition that differentiation has taken place. The
problem now is to order these groups in the way which seems most
plausible in the face of the facts at our disposal.

ACCULTURATION

The first piece of evidence with which we must reckon is that there
are Conservative Indians. To besure, they are far from the aboriginal
Cherokee. In this regard, Gulick (1960, pp. 148-149) postulates a
core of adapted and diffused traits which the Conservatives have
incorporated into their own system and regard as Indian. Most of
the people are functionally literate, either in their own language or in
English. But it is the Conservatives that most of our criteria readily
identify. They stand apart from all the others through their use of
Indian doctors, and by their continued adherence to the Harmony

312 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 196

Ethic. Correlates of this ethic ramify into all of their behavior.
It is by their behavior that one is best able to identify them.

There is also a large group of people who are phenotypically Indians.
They look upon themselves as Indians, and are called ‘Indians’ by
Conservatives. However, except for appearance, and the living
arrangements of some of them, they do not act like Conservatives.
These people have been called Generalized Indians up to now. I
propose to call them Modern Indians, for, while they are Indians, their
orientation is not primarily to the past or to the traditional.

The third group has been called Rural Whites. They are, of course,
phenotypically White. Except for some of their living conditions and
some of their educational aspirations, they do not resemble Conserva-
tives. The group to which they bear the greatest resemblance in
manner of living and in behavior is the Generalized Indians. As a
matter of fact, when Thomas first distinguished between these two
groups, he did so on qualitative differences which he did not clarify.
It is now my impression that Thomas based his division of the General-
ized Indian and the Rural White, in great measure, on phenotypic
differences. I do not wish to do violence to his findings, but I
cannot ascertain, according to any of my variables, a significant
difference between them. It well may be that a systematic investiga-
tion of basic personality might reveal meaningful differences.
However, on the basis of behavior, goals, and interests, the two groups
are very similar. Therefore I will include Thomas’ ‘Rural Whites”
among my ‘‘Modern Indians.”

We are left with the fourth category, called the Middle Class.
Members of this aggregate are either phenotypically White or pheno-
typically Indian. ‘There is a wide range in the blood degree repre-
sented in this group. These people are far removed from
Conservatives in values and behavior, but they are not so distinctly
separate from the Modern Indians in most characteristics. I will,
therefore, include them also among the “Modern Indians.”

Thus the analysis has led to only two acculturative groups,
Conservatives and Modern Indians. How then can the differences
among those called Modern Indians be explained? I intend to
explain them by adding another dimension—stratification—to our
model.

STRATIFICATION

A stratified society is characterized by differences among people
which can be evaluated by others as being “higher” or “lower.”
Students of the social-class concept have proposed various criteria
by which groups can be ranked. Some have defined class in strictly
socioeconomic terms as aggregates whose distinctions are rooted in

ANTHROP. PAP.
No. 78] EASTERN CHEROKEE GROUPS—KUPFERER 313

the economic cleavage of a community. Others, such as Richard
Centers, have suggested that without class consciousness a group is
not a class.*! Many have experimented with specific criteria to
discover the most useful measures for ordering people into classes.
Lloyd Warner (1949, p. 164) eventually settled on occupation, source
of income, house type, and dwelling areas as the best objective criteria
for determining class. August B. Hollingshead (Hollingshead and
Redlich, 1953, pp. 161-169) has limited the class variables to occupa-
tion, education, and residence. Kahl (1956, p. 46) postulates six vari-
ables: personal prestige, occupations, possessions, interaction, class
consciousness, and value orientations.

Of the diverse criteria emerging from social-class research, economic
position, styles of life, educational aspirations and expectations, and
variations in value orientations are pertinent to the findings at Chero-
kee. For it is these variables which have led us to postulate social
stratification as a possible explanation of the existing differences
within the Modern Indian group.

Within the Modern Indian group are two classes, the middle class,
identified in Thomas’ original research, and a lower class, which
includes both Thomas’ Rural Whites and Generalized Indians. Both
of these classes show a range of variation in their members. The
basic difference between the two classes as we have suggested above,
rests in economic position, educational aspirations, styles of life,
and some variations in value orientations. The difference is only
one of degree. They share similar goals, and live by much the same
ethic.*?

THE DYNAMICS OF ACCULTURATION AND SOCIAL
STRATIFICATION

A two-dimensional model has been introduced; it involves both
acculturation and social stratification. Figure 8 illustrates this
model, its historical derivation, and its relationship to Thomas’
construct. It is now necessary to add diachronic depth to the infor-
mation in order to understand fully the dynamics of this situation.

30 Karl Marx defined a class as those who stand in the same relationship to the means of production
(Bendix and Lipset, 1953, pp. 27-35). Class for Max Weber was “‘those people who have the same life
chances””—supply of goods, external living conditions, and personal life experiences (Weber, 1958, pp. 180-
195).

31 See Centers, 1949; and Page in Bendix and Lipset, 1953, p. 45.

32 Robert Faris (1960, p. 4) speaks of the difference between the middle class and the lower class as a matter
of degree of stability of organization. ‘‘Our lower classes . .. share organizational values for the same
reason all others do, but differ statistically, due to a variety of causes, in the degree of living up to the prin-
ciple. There is ambition ... there are goals... thrift exists ...in numerically smaller degrees.
Robert Merton (1957, pp. 170-171) is in essential agreement with Faris. In his analysis of the causes of
anomie, Merton’s fundamental postulate is that, as a result of the pervasiveness of the dominant values of
the culture, a sizeable minority of lower strata are more or less indoctrinated with these cultural mandates.
There are studies which partially support the position of Faris and Merton. See, for example: Mack,
Murphy, and Yellin, 1956; and Kahl, 1953, pp. 186-302.

314 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLy. 196

1 THOMAS MODEL OF THE CHEROKEE
ACCULTURATION CONTINUUM

Rural White Indians
SI

OLD CHEROKEE. " Fullbloods” Generalized Indians Middle Class MODERN WHITE
SSS) [ a ETS | SSS)

2. HISTORICAL DERIVATION OF CONTEMPORARY
CHEROKEE CULTURAL GROUPS

Ca. 1838 Extreme Acculturative Ce. 1838
Early Conservatives Pressures , MODERN INDIANS Early Admixtures
(Nearly “fullblogd") 1890 -/930s
SN 7 x ( Phenotypic [dian | Consistent Mixed
Be Phenotypic White or White Mating
4 1875-1960

Present Conservatives

3. CHEROKEE CULTURAL AND SOCIAL GROUPS, 1960

Modern Cherokee

Conservative Cherokee

Acculturation

Figure 8.—Three models of Cherokee differentiation. (For Thomas model (1)
see Thomas, R. K., MS., 1958, Chapel Hill.)

The population immediately after the removal was, according to
the literature, nearly all fullblood, and it was traditionally oriented,
although there were some admixtures. These admixtures attest to
the fact that there were present in the small post-Removal band White
people who provided models for those Indians with whom they came
into contact.**? Genealogical material shows that one of the most pro-
lific and socially mobile of the White Indian families is a very old one.
Until recent years this kindred has tended to marry White people.
The White marriage partners were not, according to the informa-
tion, ‘poor Whites.’”’ They were “respectable citizens of the period,”

33 The presence of White models who remain in persistent and consistent contact with a different cultural
group is of major significance in change. One must always keep in mind, however, the question of who
these White people were. E. Bruner (1956, p. 622) attends to the question of White models in his study of
the Mandan-Hidatsa. He suggests that the presence of a White model is insufficient by itself. The latter
must deliberately socialize children in White ways. See also Gulick, 1960, p. 157.

ANTHROP. PAP.
No. 78], EASTERN CHEROKEE GROUPS—KUPFERER 315

reflecting values consistent with the Protestant Ethic.*t Some of the
descendants of the original founders of this group have left the area
entirely. Others who have remained are found in the middle class
business group, while still others are among the more resourceful
farmers who live at the uppermost range of the lower class. These
farmers express the dominant values of the middle class, but their
style of life is not middle class. This entire kindred has always lived
close to the center of the reservation.

Later, at about the time that the land was being acquired on behalf
of the Indians, other Whites moved in. These intruders claimed that
they were part Indian in order to obtain land-use rights. Others en-
tered the tribe by marriage, and some are accused of ‘‘squatting.”’
In any event, these Whites already represented different classes. All
of them married, or cohabited with, the people present on the reser-
vation. Their offspring, with few exceptions, were encultured to the
specific orientation of the White model present. From this group
stem people who are now in the middle class, and those who are now
in the lower class.

There were families who did not have White models in their kin-
group. ‘There were, nevertheless, other influences present. These in-
fluences are intimately associated with the boarding school, the place
of residence, and contact with missionaries and traders. The “‘full-
bloods”? who lived in what is now Cherokee and the immediate en-
virons were in contact with the White Indians and the White spouses
of other mixed marriages. ‘They were also exposed to the mission-
aries and the traders who acted as models with various degrees of suc-
cess. Conservatives who lived up in the coves away from the center
were not thrown into constant contact with the more sophisticated
eroup evolving there.

When the boarding school was opened, those people who lived
closest to it sent their children there. Because of their proximity
to the school and the probable influence of the presence of Whites in
the immediate area, many of these children remained in school.
“Fullblood” children who lived farther away came into the school also,
but a substantial number of these ran away. These are the adult
Conservatives of today. The youngest of these have parents who es-
caped the early boarding school and did not insist on their children’s
attendance at the elementary day schools which were built later.
These people are clustered in Big Cove, Snow Bird, and Soco, with a
few small enclaves elsewhere.

84 See Codere, 1961, p. 514. The author raises the question of whether or not the Kwakiutl were con-

fronted with a Protestant Ethic in their contact with Western culture, and suggests that the possibility of
such influence is an important problem for further research,

316 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 196

The people who did not elude the boarding school, and their chil-
dren, are the Modern Indians of predominantly Indian descent. I
have described the regime of the boarding school; it was designed to
change the “heathen ways,” to eradicate the Indian culture. This it
did with the greatest success. The entire fabric of the culture as it
existed up to 1890 was rapidly eroded and eventually destroyed.*
Indeed, as Colson (1953, p. 288) says of the Makah, given the fact
that some of the children were enrolled at 3 and 4 years of age, the
ensuing process was as much enculturation as it was acculturation.

Many of those of the Modern Indian group went on to other Indian
schools, or to preparatory school and college. Some of these are now
in the middle class. Others of the Modern Indian group who attended
Indian vocational schools are still in the lower class, as are many who
did not go beyond the Cherokee boarding school. The variation
within the lower class is a result of years completed in school, con-
tacts and experiences outside the reservation such as military service,
and the differing White models available. Some models were teachers;
others were neighbors and traders, many of whom represented a dif-
ferent stratum of White society.

CONCLUSION

The period from about 1890 until the beginning of the Collier
Administration was one in which rapid acculturation took place.
During this era the Conservatives were set off as a distinct group for
reasons which we haveseen. The evidence suggests that they are likely
to remain limited in acculturation because the process has slowed down.
Children of Conservative parents are now in school only 5 hours
daily. The present curriculum does not exert intensive acculturative
pressures. At the end of the school day, children return to homes
where their parents rear them in the Conservative way. In addition,
the dropout rate of high school students is very high. * Therefore,
Conservative children who leave school are not exposed to the total
influences of the contemporary educational program. ‘The effect of
the school is substantially minimized as an agent of change.

The churches, too, have lost much of their earlier influence in the
acculturative process. The early churches were administered by
zealous missionaries who brought with them the Protestant Ethic and
who attended to all spheres of their parishoners’ lives. Now, the
churches which the Conservatives attend are, in large measure,

3 It is not within the scope of this paper to discuss the ethics or morality of force, but it seems evident
that, if acculturation and assimilation are goals, rapid change is more effective than slow change—a recent
theme of Margaret Mead (1956).

36 The attendance in the 10th, 11th and 12th grades is so low that the Indian Education Committee recom-
mended building a consolidated school to include only elementary and junior high school grades.
Education beyond the ninth grade would be completed in the county schools,

AN ROP. PAP.
pe igee EASTERN CHEROKEE GROUPS—KUPFERER ol7

served by Conservative preachers or by Fundamentalist ministers
whose main concern is with “salvation.”

I do not mean to imply that the Conservatives are devoid of
acculturative influences. The schools will continue to bring about
some change; marriages between Conservatives and Modern Indians
will also bring about change. And, certainly, new influences, such as
the manufacturing concerns on the reservation, will leave their mark.

The remainder of the population is more acculturated as a result
of the influences to which it has been exposed. The current variations
within this segment are due to social class differences. Social mobility
among the Modern Indians is an on-going process. As individuals
better their economic situations, acquire more education, and adhere
more rigidly to middle class values, they will become members of the
higher stratum. Others, who do not aspire to upward mobility, or
for whom a combination of factors prevents mobility, will remain in
the lower stratum of Modern Indian society.

Chapel Hill, N.C.
1961

EPILOG, 1963

Since ‘‘The Principal People” was written, along with the winds
that sweep down from the mountain peaks through the hamlets
of the reservation are other winds. Currents of change are coursing
through Cherokee. The most striking of these are in the economic
base of the tribe. My very brief visit to Cherokee in the early winter
of 1963 was sufficient to become acquainted with these surging forces.
From the point where the road reaches the level ground of the valley
the visitor is immediately made aware of activity. Here there is a
new motel; there grading is being done for a new factory; across the
river preparations are being carried out for the largest tourist attrac-
tion in western North Carolina. The driver must be cautious, for
paralleling the road through Painttown to Cherokee, waterlines and a
sewage system are being installed, employing Indian labor. The
roadside is different, too. Where the woods touch the roads the
underbrush has vanished, a project of the Forestry Branch which
utilized the labor pool of Cherokee. In short, these impressions which
signal fundamental economic alterations are in sharp contrast to the
Cherokee I knew such a short time ago.

Agriculture—Although farming has not been a major source of
cash for many, many years, the sharp decrease in the number of
farmers in the past 3 years is significant in that it attests to the
presence of other means of income. In 1960 there were 44 farmers.
Their farms were unevenly distributed within the Qualla Boundary.

T47-014—66—21

318 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY (BULL. 196

Today there are 25 remaining. Once there were five farms in Chero-
kee, now there are three. Painttown boasted four in 1960; this num-
ber has now dwindled to one. Of the 18 people who used to farm in
Soco only 8remain. Birdtown farms have been reduced from 11 to 7.
Only Big Cove remains fairly constant; there are now five instead of
six farmers there.?” Interestingly enough the five Big Cove farmers
are “fullblood” or nearly so. This is a consequence of the fact that
these folk are too old to leave the land,®* and their holdings are located
where land is not, at present, sought after for commerical exploitation.
But this too may change because the road to Big Cove has been paved
and more tourists will find their way into this once isolated settlement.

Trading licenses—From perhaps no other single source of informa-
tion is the picture of expansion more apparent than from the number
of trading licenses issued. In May 1963, 134 licenses were granted to
people in the following categories: Indian-owned-and-operated busi-
nesses, 63 (9 more than were issued in 1960) ; Indian-owned but leased
to White operators, 11; non-Indian-owned, 60.*° A review of the
degrees of Indian inheritance of the Indian-owned-and-operated es-
tablishments suggests that no significant change has taken place since
1960 (cf. p. 238).

To illustrate the continuing and increasing importance of the tour-
ist industry to Cherokee, the following data are offered: there are
today 33 motels; 39 craft shops; 11 restaurants; 9 groceries with picnic
supplies; and 9 combination craft shop, restaurant, and grocery busi-
ness under one roof."

Gross income figures reported for three of these Indian-owned-and-
operated establishments are: $428,213; $175,072; and $151,538." In
the instance of the largest Indian business a 39 percent increase in
the gross was realized in the last 3 years. In addition to wages paid
to Indian employees and net profits to owners, 3 percent of these in-
comes are paid into the tribal treasury. This increase in tribal funds
has made possible more assistance to individuals, but, more impor-
tantly, has enabled it to attract light industry by offering financial
assistance.

A new tourist attraction is now being constructed representing a
million dollar investment of private funds. It is to be a park empha-
sizing a historic theme. In addition to a western frontier town and
fort there will be 11 Indian villages depicting Plains Indian life. Dur-
ing the summer months of operation, periodic Indian raids will be
made on the Fort and regular gunfights will occur in the town. The

31 Home Economics Extension Agent, Personal Conference, December 10, 1963.
%8 See footnote 37.

3 Realty Officer, Personal Conference, December 10, 1963.

40 Mimeograph report, Cherokee Indian Agency, May 23, 1963.

41 See footnote 39.

ANTHROP. PAP.
No. 78] EASTERN CHEROKEE GROUPS—KUPFERER 319

tribe will receive 3 percent of the gross receipts which have been
estimated to be between $2 and $3 million a season. Apart from the
monies which will indirectly accrue to others in the tourist business,
250 Indians will be employed during the operating season and between
35 and 40 are to be employed on a year-round basis. Construction of
the buildings within the park will utilize Indian labor, where possible.

A project sponsored by the Indian Agency with tribal council
approval is the fish management program. By stocking controlled
streams with adult fish (trout) each week during the fishing season,
it is supposed that fishermen can be induced to remain longer in the
area. <A dollar fee will be imposed per day on each angler. Present
plans are to use these funds to build a civic center suitable for con-
ventions and athletic and theatrical events.

Industry.—Despite the real reliance on visitors, tourism alone is
insufficient to support the people the year around. At the time of
this research there were two industries operating at Cherokee. Both
of these have been enlarged. Saddlecraft has made a $50,000 ex-
pansion in its facilities and has added about 30 more employees. Its
yearly payroll is estimated to be about $200,000. The Harns Company
payroll is now over $500,000 per year. Of its total work force about
70 percent are Indians; the average number of Indian employees is
120.% Construction work has begun on factories for two additional
plants. The Vassar Corporation—America’s third largest manu-
facturer of women’s hair accessories—is planning a 45,000 square
foot building on the reservation. Funding for this facility came
jointly from tribal resources and Jackson County Industries, with
the tribe assuming major financial responsibility. Current plans
provide for the employment of 200 people, most of whom will be
women. Of this figure 70 percent are to be Indians—if properly
qualified—the remainder will be Whites from Jackson County. The
fact that the bulk of employees are to be women will pose some
difficulties in respect to family life. However, a Day Care Center
for children is now being operated by one of the Baptist Churches.
At present, 24 children are accommodated. A new facility is planned
which will have a greater capacity and will take infants as well as
children from 2 to 6 years.

A furniture manufacturing plant is to be located just off of the
reservation. The location was occasioned by the need for railroad
service. Since both the Jackson County Industries and the tribe
were instrumental in procuring the company, and both issued loans
totaling 5 percent of the cost of the factory, Whites and Indians will

42 Project Officer, personal conference, December 10, 1963

320 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 196

be equally represented in the labor force. The anticipated number
is 600 employees.

The Public Works Program, which includes the installation of the
water system and sewage lines, and the Forestry project are employing
168 men. These jobs will terminate in January 1964, but the con-
struction of the factories and the amusement park are expected to
provide work for many of these men.

Social services.—The change in the availability of jobs since 1960
should be reflected in the amounts of monies given in assistance to
Indian families. To some extent this is true as shown in table 14.
That the differences are not greater is a function of the fact that in
1960 the program was just meeting basic needs. Now it is possible
to utilize funds to supplement incomes of those families whose bread-
winners cannot, by themselves, provide adequately for their depend-
ents. In addition, the new jobs have not reached the hard core cases
of chronic unemployment.

In an effort to ameliorate this unemployment condition, two addi-
tional caseworkers have been added to the Social Service staff, bring-
ing the number up to four. Presently less than one-third of the
case load of this department is in assistance. Counseling is given
in all areas of family life. The United States Public Health Service
has secured the services of a psychiatrist on a consultant basis, and
a clinical psychologist is on contract to the Cherokee School 3 days
a week to provide additional professional assistance in the areas of
counseling and rehabilitation.

Indirectly associated with problems of family life is housing.
Approval has been received from the Federal Government for the
construction of low-rent housing. Construction of 35 units is sched-
uled to start in the spring of 1964. Rents will range from $20-$70
per month contingent upon income and the number of minor depend-
ents. These units are to be built in the various residential sections of
the reservation. Efforts are also being directed toward securing
Farmers Home Administration and Federal Housing Authority Title
I Home Improvement loans for the Indian people.“

The future—Without doubt the economic base of the Eastern
Cherokee is much sturdier than it was in 1959-60. In fact, it appears
that the reservation is in a healthier condition than many of the
surrounding White communities. Assuredly the effects of the
burgeoning economy will make themselves felt among the people and
among the social and cultural groupings described in 1960. It might
be expected that the emerging class structure which was observed will
become more differentiated. The development of an upper middle

43 See footnote 42, p. 319.

A . PAP.
No. 78], =e EASTERN CHEROKEE GROUPS—KUPFERER 321
TABLE 14.—Federal Indian Welfare Expenditures!

Fiscal year

Month

1960 1962 1963
Aa eae i ee ee ere oe ena ee ee ed $4, 474 $3, 085 $4, 205

JUPUISGS OE Fe ea oo eke. See ee Ss Btn se 4, 433 5, F
BEptemip erie strats see no noes ocean cen ene nen ga noase ee eraaeD sees 3, 848 6, 488 4, 960
October!et- 2228. end a a Kes SE eee ae ee eet 7, 879 6, 295 3, 569
IND ver bers < 252 O8e = 5 Oo Se ee ee ot ot eee eee sens 12, 613 7,316 3,175
WeCeMber- =~ a2 se soa co non seca wen eccees eae sssaeeoeeonaneses avae= 13, 401 9, 365 3, 504
JANUARY: Aecsa. 52255 Sheek ee et ee ee a ee 13, 495 12, 686 3, 806
DW) 6) 11962 a ace le Pr) te se Se aS Sr ea ea 13, 850 14, 271 4,975
March... ...<-2.--.224- 2225. Mie eee eee 14, 457 11, 907 7, 739
2.5 0) 3 | eee een Rares Re ae ae ae ee nae pn ees 13, 365 11, 124 6, 515
IMIS Woe bets aes ase see eee a ee oe eae oaacneas a seaencsanveeene 10,173 8, 559 5, 742
UREN Oe ne ok eas as aoa 2, 617 5, 371 3, 127
CY) HY | oe a ee ee ne eee $114, 405 $101, 684 $55, 303

1 Data secured from Social Service Division.

and a lower middle class might be anticipated. Formerly such lines
were blurred and numbers were too few. A similar cleavage may
occur in the lower class with the appearence of an upper lower and a
lower class. We have empirical data and sociological theory with
which to assess and perhaps even to predict these changes. The
difficult question to handle is the effect of these shifts in the economy
on the Conservatives. An increase in subsistence is seldom enough
by itself to accelerate acculturation. It seems most likely that
until the dominant Conservative value system can be harmonized
with a thriving economy and all that it entails we cannot predict an
early disappearence of the Conservatives.
Greensboro, N.C.
1968

LITERATURE CITED

ANDERSON, Rurus A.M.

1827. Memoir of Catharine Brown, a Christian Indian of the Cherokee
nation. [list ed., 1825, Boston.] York, England.

ANONYMOUS.

1961. Asheville Citizen Times. February 12.

BeEenpiIx, REINHARD.

1960. Max Weber: An intellectual portrait. New York.

Benprx, REINHARD, and Lipset, 8.M.

1953. Class, status and power. Glencoe, Illinois.

Bonner, Myrt Lez.

. Educational and other influences in the cultural assimilation of the
Cherokee Indians of the Qualla Reservation in North Carolina.
Master’s thesis, Alabama Polytechnic Institute, Auburn, 1950.

Bruner, Epwarp M.

1956. Primary group experience and the process of acculturation. Amer.
Anthrop., n.s., vol. 58, No. 4, pp. 605-623.

322 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Buub. 196

CarRINGTON, HENRY B.
1892. Eastern band of Cherokees of North Carolina. Jn U.S. Census Bureau
‘‘Hixtra Census Bulletin,” pp. 11-21. Washington.
CENTERS, RICHARD.
1949. The psychology of social classes. Princeton.
CHEROKEE HISTORICAL ASSOCIATION.
1960. Cherokee Indian Reservation—Cherokee. [Mimeographed.] North
Carolina.
CopERE, HELEN.
1961. Kwakiutl. Jn ‘Perspectives in American Indian Culture Change,”
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CoLson, BLIZABETH.
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Anthropological Papers, No. 79

THE RAMAH NAVAHO
By CLYDE KLUCKHOHN

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FOREWORD

This paper was the last ethnographic writing on the Ramah
Navaho by the late Clyde Kluckhohn before his death in 1960.
The original version was prepared as a summary of Ramah Navaho
culture for a projected final report on ‘“The Comparative Study of
Values in Five Cultures” project which undertook field research in
the Ramah area between 1949 and 1955 and was sponsored by the
Peabody Museum and Laboratory of Social Relations at Harvard
University with a grant from the Rockefeller Foundation. The plans
for the report on this project have now changed and do not include
the various ethnographic summaries that were prepared, but instead
focus upon a comparative treatment of various institutions in relation
to value systems in the five cultures. Since this paper contains a
brief summary of published ethnographic data on Ramah Navaho
culture, as well as new materials not heretofore available, written by
an eminent scholar who devoted much of his professional career to
the study of the Navaho, it is most appropriate for it to appear (with
slight revisions for which I am responsible) in the Anthropological
Papers series of the Bureau of American Ethnology.

Evon Z. Voet
Cambridge, Mass.
July 1964
331

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THE RAMAH NAVAHO

By Crypt KiuckHoHN

East of the Zuni Indian Reservation and south of the Mormon
village of Ramah, N. Mex., lies the territory of the Ramah Navaho,
who numbered 625 in 1950. Since much has been published, both
in articles and monographs, on the Ramah Navaho over the years,
the purpose of this paper is to digest, in appropriate form, data that
have appeared in these specialized articles and monographs, to show
their interrelationships, and to add hitherto unpublished materials.

HISTORY

Navahos probably hunted in and roamed through the present
Ramah area as early as the beginning of the 18th century. They
farmed lands in this region from about 1840 onward. After the
Navaho captivity at Fort Sumner, some of the original settlers re-
turned and were gradually joined by relatives and by men who
married into the group. The founders of the Ramah band were
primarily Eastern Navahos born almost exclusively in three areas:
Mount Taylor, Chuska Mountains, and San Jose River. But there
were also three Chiricahua Apaches and one Walapai Indian. By,
roughly, 1890, the Navaho population included 23 men, 30 women,
and 46 children. After about 1890, no new biological families set-
tled in the region. Immigration was exclusively upon marriage
except in the case of seven children who came with immigrating
parents. After 1890, a Laguna Indian, a Yaqui residing at Zuni,
and a Zuni, married into Ramah. Two Navaho men fled perma-
nently to other Navaho groups after committing murder at Ramah.
More recently, two families have left for economic reasons; one of these
is likely to return eventually to Ramah (Kluckhohn, 1956 a).!

The ancestors of the Ramah Navaho were in contact with Pueblo
Indians and with various Apache tribes centuries ago. There were

1 When all or most of the documentation for statements in a paragraph is to be found in a single source,
this will be cited at the conclusion of a paragraph. Citations within the body of the paragraph refer only
to the point {mmediately preceding.

333
747-014—66——_22

334 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 196

conflicts and indeed skirmishes with the Zuni both before Fort Sum-
ner (1864-68) and in the period immediately after Fort Sumner.
After trading stores became well established at Zuni in the early
eighties, the Ramah Navaho went there occasionally to trade. During
the period of Navaho troubles with the American military (1848-64),
some of the ancestral Ramah families spent considerable time among
the Chiricahua and Mescalero, and this associaton was continued at
Fort Sumner. Another sort of contact occurred during the expedi-
tion against Geronimo, for three Navahos who settled at Ramah in
1883-85 had served as American scouts, and two of them took Apache
wives.

Ramah Navaho contacts with other Indian groups, though less
frequent and sometimes indirect, are also of long duration. Since
one main line of the Ramah Navaho derives from the ‘“enemy Navaho”
(Underhill, 1956, pp. 58-59) of the Mount Taylor region, some of the
ancestors of the Ramah Navaho had been in at least intermittent
contact with Spanish-speaking peoples since about 1750. In this
area, steady relationships began after Spanish-Americans settled
about 6 miles east of Ramah between 1860 and 1865. The Ramah
Navaho have many stories of a fight that occurred with Spanish-
Americans in this Tinaja valley shortly before the Fort Sumner
captivity. In 1882, Atarque and (somewhat later) two still tinier
Spanish-American villages were established at the southern end of
the Ramah Navaho territory.

Even before the United States took over New Mexico some of its
citizens had been in at least the area of Zuni (Telling, MS.,1952, p.14).
With the rush to California the route from Albuquerque across the
Ramah country and through Zuni was traversed by a sizable number
of parties, both private and Governmental (ibid., pp. 15-22). The
Ramah Navaho had stories of an encounter with at least one of these
prior to Fort Sumner (Kluckhohn, 1956 a).

Mormon missionaries reached the Ramah Navaho in 1876 (Telling,
1953). In 1880 three traders were licensed at Zuni, and Ramah
Navahos traded there occasionally as well as at Fort Wingate (Telling,
MS., 1952, p. 148). Ramah village was founded in 1882. A few other
non-Mormon Anglos (cattlemen and traders) settled on the borders
of the Ramah country or 20 or 30 miles distant. Ramah Navaho
accounts tell of a trip now and then to trade south of Gallup, at the
Spanish-American town of San Rafael, and at Nutria. There were
small stores in the Ramah area itself, but none seems to have had a
steady existence until the late 1890’s. In the first two decades of the
present century more cattle ranchers, traders, and other Anglo-
Americans followed the Mormons into the Ramah area. In the early

ANTH . PAP.
ae THE RAMAH NAVAHO—KLUCKHOHN 330

twenties, Texan homesteaders had begun to settle in the El Morro
area and by 1930 the founding of Fence Lake was well under way.

The Ramah Navaho are not only an off-reservation group but are
separated from Navahos contiguous to the reservation by intervening
Pueblo Indian, Spanish-American, and Anglo-American populations.
Hence Ramah Navaho contacts with the Government, and specifically
with the Bureau of Indian Affairs, were sporadic and slight until
1942. Some of the “founders” of the Ramah band had, of course,
been prisoners at Fort Sumner and participated in the tremendous
shock of that experience (Underhill, 1956, pp. 119-143). After
locating or relocating at Ramah after Fort Sumner, a number made
one to three trips to Fort Defiance, Ariz., to obtain the free Govern-
ment distribution of seed, livestock, cloth, and tools for weaving and
agriculture. Otherwise, apart from an occasional brush with the
soldiers at Fort Wingate over alleged livestock thefts (Navaho
Indian Agency letter books for April 11, 1882), the Government was
a distant and rather nebulous authority for many years.

Land Office USGS surveys were carried out in the Ramah area
from 1881 on,” but the first allotment to a Navaho of an individual
160-acre plot from public domain under the Dawes act of 1887 was
not made until 1908; no others were made until 1920, and the majority
in the 1930’s. Meanwhile, the Ramah Navaho had been pushed off
most of their best lands by Mormons and others. By 1921, the crisis
over land had reached such intensity that the Ramah Navaho leader,
Bidaga (Kluckhohn and Vogt, 1955) made a trip to Washington,
D.C., with Navaho leaders from the reservation and Franciscan
missionaries (Young, 1949).

In spite of the research of Dr. Telling and others on Government
publications and documents, the official relations of the Bureau of
Indian Affairs with the Ramah Navaho are obscure until 1927. This
may well be because jurisdiction was never clearly defined. Prior to
about 1900 there is mention of occasional contact with Fort Defiance
and Fort Wingate. After 1900 the Zuni Agency appears to have
intervened from time to time, although its official responsibility was
for Pueblo rather than Navaho affairs. Until 1905 the picture seems
to have been that of leaving the Ramah Navaho severely alone except
for rare incidents when Anglos or Spanish-Americans demanded
intervention on land matters or disturbances of law and order. Be-
ginning in 1905, Ramah Mormons were employed intermittently by
the Black Rock Agency to round up Navaho children for school.

In 1927 the Eastern Navaho Agency was established at Crownpoint,
N. Mex., and the Ramah Navaho were placed under the control of

3 But were not complete 32 years later. for the Gallup Independent for May 15, 1953, speaks of surveys still
going on.

336 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 196

this agency. The agent there visited Ramah more than once, and
Navaho delegations went to Crownpoint from time to time—primarily
to seek protection against land encroachment on the part of Anglos.
But this was a full day’s journey by automobile in those days and 2
days by horse, so that the effective relationship was minimal. In
1934 the six separate Navaho agencies were merged into one ‘‘Navajo
Service” with headquarters at Window Rock, Ariz. The Ramah
Navaho felt neglected (as indeed they were) by this central organiza-
tion, and in 1942, on their own petition, they were transferred to the
United Pueblos Agency at Albuquerque but with a nearby subagency
at Black Rock. (Landgraf, 1954.)

ACCULTURATION

A properly weighted account of the degree of acculturation of the
Ramah Navaho is difficult to achieve. It is all too easy to overempha-
size one side or the other. By selecting certain data,? one could
convincingly depict Ramah Navahos over the age of 20 (with a
handful of exceptions) as essentially “aboriginal” apart from food
patterns, technology, and economy. Selecting other equally veri-
fiable data one could picture the group as hardly Navaho at all save
for language, women’s costume, ceremonial practices, and a few other
particulars. The truth, of course, resides at a very complicated,
mixed, hard-to-specify area between these two extremes. There is
no doubt that the Ramah Navaho have had long-continued and, in
some respects, intensive contacts with non-Navaho cultures. All
Navaho subcultures—to varying extent and in varying particulars—
exhibit the results of direct or indirect Puebloan influence. Ramah
is no exception. An intensive study indicates that two traits of
material culture have been borrowed from Zuni during the post-Fort
Sumner period. There are presumptive grounds for postulating
Chiricahua and Mescalero Apache influence at Ramah but it has
not been possible to identify any elements with certainty.

As far as change deriving ultimately from European cultures is
concerned, one can of course point immediately to domestic animals,
certain cultivated plants, work in silver, and many features of diet
and material culture. Dependence upon the American Government
and the larger American economy have had their consequences.

3 For example, students of the Navaho are agreed that the wearing of the hair knot by men (and especially
younger men) is a good index of conservatism. At Ramah, in the 1940-50 decade, not only six old men but
three boys under 20 held to this hairdress. This is a high proportion for this date. Another evidence of
Ramah conservatism is that this is one of the two or three areas where pottery (both painted and cooking)
was made (as late as 1938; cf. Tschopik, 1941) and one of a very few areas where Navaho basketry is still
made. Finally, one could note that polygyny remains more common at Ramah than in all save two or
three remote and inaccessible Navaho local groups.

AN OP. PAP.
meget THE RAMAH NAVAHO—KLUCKHOHN 337

American law and religion have had a gradual and increasing effect
upon such matters as inheritance custom and residence. Some of the
acculturation listed above began long before Fort Sumner. Other
aspects started effectively during that period but were intensified by
relations with non-Indians at a tempo that has increased steadily ever
since 1870. The coming of the railroad to Fort Wingate and Gallup
in 1881 ushered in the period when many Ramah Navahos were thrown
into frequent and regular relationships with non-Indians. Both
Ramah and Atarque were founded in 1882, and the presence of a rail-
road only 40 miles away was the basis both for subsequent immigration
into the area and for far-reaching economic changes. The Mormons
have been the primary agents of acculturation for more than 70 years,
though others—such as the two brothers from England who purchased
the Ramah Trading Company in 1901 and were very friendly to the
Navaho—have also been of considerable importance. Still, it is hard
to specify influences that are distinctively Mormon as opposed to
those of generalized American culture. There is one that appears
certain. As opposed to other Navaho areas, gambling has been
absent or notably infrequent at Ramah. The Ramah Navaho
unanimously attribute this to the acceptance by the first headman of
the Mormon injunction against gambling.

Purely religious teachings do not appear to have gone very deep.
The early records of the Ramah Ward of the Mormon church list
more than 30 Navahos as baptized, though it is not certain that all of
these were Ramah Navahos. The records do from time to time speak
of as many as 10 Navahos as present at Mormon church services.
These numbers, however, decreased with the passage of time. This
shift was doubtless due in part to the linguistic difficulty. Even more,
it may be traced to mounting Navaho resentment over land quarrels
and discriminatory practices. For example, from the eighties until
the thirties, Navahos, even those who were professed Mormons, were
refused burial in the church cemetery (Telling, MS., 1952). As of 1923,
when [ first visited Ramah, only one Navaho attended Mormon
services (from time to time) with anything approaching regularity.
A few others were nomimal Mormons but, in fact, participated almost
exclusively in the native Navaho religion. This situation continued
until the coming of Mormon missionaries from Utah in 1946 and the
building of a small Mormon church for Ramah Navaho in 1949
(Rapoport, 1954). Even in the decade following 1946, the lives of
only a tiny number of Ramah Navahos were other than superficially
affected by Mormonism. And prior to 1944 or 1945 no Ramah Na-
vahos were believing or practicing Christians of other denominations,
although a number attended Christian services while at school and in
some cases professed Christianity temporarily. By 1950 there were

338 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 196

20 or more adults (primarily women) who were staunchly or weakly
committed to a Fundamentalist Christian faith. No Ramah Navaho
has ever been a Roman Catholic, although in the early days at Tinaja
the Spanish-Americans made some efforts at conversion, giving
Christian names, serving as godparents, and the like.

All in all, in 1950 the customs, thought ways, and values of the
Ramah Navaho were dominantly Navaho. Not more than 20 indi-
viduals, all of them under 40 years of age, would have to be excepted
from this generalization. Many more, to be sure, had absorbed to
some degree European ideas and values as is reflected in the intricately
mingled responses to the value-orientations questionnaire (Kluckhohn
and Romney, 1964). There were, and are, local differences. In
general, Navahos residing habitually within 5 or 10 miles of Ramah
village are appreciably more acculturated than those living in the
less accessible areas farther south and southeast. World War II did
initiate a period of accelerated culture change affecting the whole
area. ‘Twelve Ramah Navahos were in the armed forces for various
periods (Vogt, 1951). A much larger number of men, sometimes
accompanied by their wives and children, were employed for weeks or
months outside the Ramah area. This began the habit of wagework
away from Ramah for weeks or months which has been followed by
many in the economically difficult years since 1946 and especially
following the droughts of 1950 and 1951.

Nevertheless, all who observed other than superficially the daily
lives of Ramah Navahos in the 1950 epoch agree that most of these
lives, apart from material circumstances and small changes in social
organization, were far more similar to those of their grandparents
than to those of their contemporary non-Indian neighbors. One is
tempted to say that in the intangible realm almost the only major
and general consequence of contact with Anglos was the distrust and
bitterness engendered by reason of the land struggle and sharp
practices on the part of traders and other non-Indians. This resulted,
in fact, in a sizable amount of antagonistic acculturation: That is,
some Navahos consciously and deliberately returned to heightened
participation in such ancient Navaho customs as the sweat bath.

The prime barrier to Navaho acculturation in thought ways and
values was, of course, linguistic. To appreciate realistically this
factor and others, one must enlarge the historical perspective with
various concrete details. The first Ramah Navaho went to school at
Fort Defiance in about 1886. He attended, however, for only a year
and returned to become one of the area’s leading ceremonial practi-
tioners. To the end of his life his total English and Spanish vocabu-
laries combined did not amount to 100 words. His kinsman who went
to Fort Defiance the next year stayed only a few months. There isa

AN . PAP.
AarusoE THE RAMAH NAVAHO—KLUCKHOHN 339

record of another Ramah Navaho being sent to school in 1894.
The first concerted effort to send children to school, however, appears
to have been in 1905 when 10 children were taken to the Albuquerque
Indian School. They remained from 1 to 4 years without acquiring
much English, though two of the men did attain a modest com-
petence in English later in life as a result of sustained experience
with Anglos. None of these acquired English as an effective means
of communication. It was 1917 before a young Ramah Navaho
returned to the area with sufficient knowledge of English to be able
to act as interpreter in even rudimentary fashion.

Of the population over 20 in 1940, 28 men and 19 women had
attended school (either Government or mission). Of these, however,
only 36 had attended school for 4 years or more and 11 for 8 years or
more. Of Ramah Navahos alive in 1950, 36 men and 28 women had
attended school; although a number of them for only a year or less.
Of these, 17 men and 13 women had had from 4 to 8 years of schooling;
7 men and 9 women had 8 years or more. But it is easy to mis-
interpret the consequences of these figures. Several points must
be borne in mind. Eight years at school does not mean that the
individual had graduated from the eighth grade even in an Indian
school. The command of English (oral and written) of a high school
graduate is ordinarily not equal to that of an eighth grade graduate
in the United States generally. And in 1950 there were only two
high school graduates among the Ramah Navaho—none in 1940.
Moreover, it is hard for those who have not observed these phenomena
directly to understand how much English a Navaho who has little
occasion to use the language can forget in, say, 10 years. This is
particularly true of women living at some distance from the village
of Ramah. Some of these who had 8 years of school cannot today
manage a few simple sentences in English. This factor is counter-
balanced to a slight extent by those (almost entirely men) who had
little schooling but who have picked up some command of English
by association with Anglos on jobs.

In 1940, four men (all except one in their early twenties) and one
woman (born away from Ramah) could translate from English to
Navaho and from Navaho to English if communication was kept
quite simple and concrete. ‘Hard words” in either language stumped
them. Of the remainder of the “schooled” Navahos, many had
largely forgotten the English they had known on leaving school.
Elementary conversation was possible with 10 men and 3 women, in
addition to the 5 mentioned above. By 1950, thanks both to in-
creased enrollment in schools and to World War II experiences, the
number of men over 18 years of age who could speak “‘basic English”

340 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 196

had risen to 28 and of women to 9. On the other hand, the number
of possible interpreters had increased by only two men and one woman.

Acquaintance with the Zuni and Spanish languages is limited to a
small number of individuals and in no case approaches fluency. One
must take with extreme caution the glib statements of local residents
(from all five groups) that such-and-such a Navaho ‘speaks good
Zuni’ (or Spanish). A Navaho who has a Zuni vocabulary of 50 (or
even 25) words impresses a Spanish-American or Anglo—or another
Navaho—who knows no Zuni beyond, possibly, a phrase of greeting
and another word or two. Careful observation, testing, and inquiry
have established the following facts. Of two Ramah Navaho men
and three women who had numerous Zuni half-brothers and sisters,
one man had a Zuni vocabulary of perhaps as many as 500 words,
the other man knew considerably less, and the women knew no more
than a few kinship terms and phrases about the weather, food, and
crops. Of three Navaho women married to men from Zuni, two
could speak “kitchen Zuni’ and the other spoke with her husband
and his relatives entirely in English, although recognizing something
of the order of 300 Zuni words and uttering, on occasion, possibly as
many as 100. No other Ramah Navaho has in recent times, at least,
had a Zuni vocabulary of 100 words, and only two or three men would
reach that level. In all, not more than 20 Ramah Navahos know
more than, at most, 10 words of Zuni.

In contrast, many adult Navaho men, and some women, have a
20- or 30-word Spanish vocabulary. This is because they have so
often had the experience of working for or with Spanish-Americans.
About 15 Navaho men (as of 1950) could carry on an elementary
conversation concerning trade, locations, livestock, and daily events.
Two or three of the older men had acquired this knowledge durmg
the 19th century when Spanish was the lingua franca of the area. An
additional eight or nine had herded for Spanish-Americans long enough
to learn basic Spanish. Most of these live in the southern portion
of the Ramah Navaho area, but a few have worked for Tinaja and
San Rafael families. Only a very few Navahos born after 1920
have more than a tiny stock of Spanish words and phrases.

One must, of course, make the inquiry in reverse. How many
Zuanis, Anglos, and Spanish-Americans have been able to speak Nav-
aho? For centuries Pueblo Indians have learned Navaho, rather
than the reverse, and Zuni is no exception. A number of Zuni men
can speak Navaho easily and colloquially, but, apart from two cases
of intermarriage, these have had only transitory relationships with
Ramah Navaho. One of the early Mormon missionaries who lived
into this century spoke fluent Navaho. A Navaho, raised as a Mexi-
can at Tinaja, continued to speak his language of birth. These cases,

A PAP:
ANPEEDE, Par THE RAMAH NAVAHO—KLUCKHOHN 341

however, are unique as far as the Anglos and Spanish-Americans are
concerned. Local folklore names a number of individuals as “‘speak-
ing good Navaho.” In fact, only four Mormons can carry on a simple
conversation in pidgin Navaho. A few other traders and stockmen
know perhaps 300 terms for numerals, objects, and the like. They
can bargain for crops and livestock or for workers, can ask distances,
and talk about births and deaths. Two or three Spanish-Americans
also fall into this group. Other Anglos and Spanish-Americans are
limited to, at most, a small handful of stock phrases.

This language barrier has sharply restricted the influence of non-
Navahos even upon those Navahos who have for longer or shorter
periods seen Pueblos, Anglos, or Spanish-Americans daily. The net
result is that the Ramah Navaho, in spite of living among and sur-
rounded by non-Navahos, are less acculturated than certain reserva-
tion Navahos who have been much more deeply affected by schools
and missionaries. The first school for Navahos in the Ramah area
was not built until 1943, whereas the reservation was dotted with
schools by 1910. For about 10 years (roughly 1876-86) the Mormons
made strenuous missionizing attempts, but the results did not reach
below the surface, at any rate as far as fundamental ideas were con-
cerned. Thereafter Mormon missionary work languished at a per-
functory level not to be resumed actively until 1946 when a full-time
mission team was assigned to work among the Ramah Navaho.* This
was probably in competitive response to the activities of a Fundamen-
talist missionary who took up residence near Ramah in 1944 (Rapoport,
1954). This missionary venture was the first (other than a few brief
and casual visits) since the early Mormon endeavor.

The psychological test administered by the Research in Indian
Education Program (1942-43) indicated that the Ramah Navaho
were midway in acculturation between the remote Navajo Mountain
band and the Shiprock group on the Navajo Reservation (Leighton
and Kluckhohn, 1947). This judgment accords with relevant spe-
cific data and with the general impressions of anthropologists and
non-Ramah Navahos. Reservation Navahos who have visited in the
Ramah area or worked with Ramah Navahos on the railroads or else-
where often make comments to the effect that the Ramah group strikes
them as conservative or ‘‘backwoodsy.”

All in all, the Ramah Navaho are as representative of the Navaho
people as a whole as any other single local Navaho population. One
of the characteristics of the Navaho in general is the heterogeneity of

4In April 1952, 100 Navaho men, women, and children were carried on the rolls of the Mormon church
in Ramah. The records show, however, that only six of these had been confirmed or blessed prior to 1948.
Five had risen in the hierarchy to the rank of deacon, two to priest, and only one to elder. All evidence
indicates that the affiliation of most of the 100 had been, to say the least, highly nominal.

342 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 196

biological and cultural origins. To be sure, there is phenotypic evi-
dence (light skin and hair color) of European ancestry in certain
family lines at Ramah, but the historical circumstances under which
the whole Navaho tribe absorbed some European genes are well
known (Underhill, 1956, pp. 79-81). Within this century one Span-
ish-American and two Anglos indisputably fathered Ramah Navaho
children, and there are several other highly probable cases. Yet a
blood-group study may indicate ‘relative freedom from White mix-
ture’ (Boyd, 1949, p. 572) as compared with other Navaho and
American Indian samples. It is likewise true that one may point to
several Chiricahua Apache women, one Zuni man, one Laguna man,
one Walapai, and one Yaqui man as ancestors of some of the present
Ramah Navahos. But the Canyon De Chelly Navaho had many
Hopi ancestors, there is much Ute admixture on the northern borders
of the Navaho country, and Eastern Navahos are aware of ancestors
from Jemez and from Rio Grande Pueblos. Essentially “all” Nav-
ahos, if the full facts were known, would be found to have very mixed
ancestry. Indeed, for the Ramah Navaho there are presumptive
but definite grounds for postulating, more remotely, Mescalero
Apache, Ute, and Jemez progenitors (Kluckhohn, 1956 a).

As for culture, there has certainly been some Zuni influence upon
the Ramah band just as there have been Paiute borrowing by the
Navajo Mountain group, Hopi influence upon many west-central res-
ervation localities, Chiricahua—Mescalero influence upon the Alamo-
Puertocito Navaho band, ete. Actually, it is difficult to specify Zuni
borrowings at Ramah other than two that are shared by various other
Navaho groups influenced by Zuni; the use of outdoor bake ovens and
the painted pottery formerly made by Ramah Navaho women
(Tschopik, 1941). For specifically Spanish-American effects upon
the Ramah Navaho one can do no more than point to some details
in the handling of sheep. Except for the few Navahos who follow
Mormon religious practices and observe Mormon restrictions upon
the use of coffee, liquor, and cigarettes, borrowings from Anglo cul-
ture are indistinguishable from those characteristic of other Navaho
groups who have had about the same amount of contact.

Each Navaho local group has some distinctive features as a con-
sequence of its geographical position and particular historical experi-
ences. So far as the Ramah Navaho are concerned, one should not
overlook the consequences of the fact that they were not like captive
animals herded onto a reservation. Rather, at least until 1940, they
led a normal (if isolated and rural) competitive life. Before 1940
Government protection and assistance (economic and otherwise)
amounted to very little.

An . Par.
et ag THE RAMAH NAVAHO—KLUCKHOHN 343

Unless one adopts highly arbitrary (and probably somewhat ro-
mantic) standards, there has not been—certainly since Fort Sumner—
such a thing as “‘pure Navaho culture’ any more than one can specify
a “pure Navaho biological type.” There are a few particulars (such
as absence of ceremonialists who can conduct the most elaborate
chants and the lack of famous weavers and silversmiths) in which the
Ramah Navaho resemble other bands (Canyoncito and Puertocito-
Alamo) separated from the main Navaho country. But, in the large,
Ramah Navaho culture is no more deviant from ‘‘standard Navaho”
than are the local variants on the reservation. This is proved by the
manner in which data from Ramah are no more distinctive in com-
parative studies than are data from other areas.°

The best statement that can be made is that Ramah Navaho culture
is one variant of generalized Eastern Navaho culture. Even this
must be qualified, however, for a preliminary check of the detailed
study of Ramah Navaho material culture (Kluckhohn, Hill, and
Kluckhohn, 1965) indicates, surprisingly enough, a closer correspond-
ence to Gifford’s Western Navaho trait list than to his Eastern. On
the other hand, the language is undoubtedly of the Eastern variety
both as regards vocabulary and idiom.

MATERIAL CULTURE AND ADAPTATION TO ENVIRON-
MENT

This is not the place for an exhaustive review of Ramah Navaho
material culture, but some summary statements drawn largely from
two detailed studies by Roberts (1954, 1957) and from a long manu-
script by Kluckhohn, Hill, and Kluckhohn (1965) may be made.
The Navaho make or made objects from wood, stone, hide, wool,
metal, and minerals. In recent times paper and glass have also been
used. Horn and bone are almost entirely neglected, appearing in
only one or two items each. The dominant woods are juniper,
pifion, pine, and oak. The first two named are used chiefly for build-
ing materials, firewood, and wooden utensils which are of a relatively
temporary nature. Oak is the main hardwood and is used in making
handles for implements, digging sticks, battens, and bows. The
principal stones used are flint, sandstone, and lava rock. Flint was
obtained from Pueblo ruins and was used for knives, scrapers, drills,
and arrow points. Today its use is almost exclusively ceremonial.
Sandstone was used for arrow smoothers, pot supports and smoothers,
and other purposes. It is still used as building material and (along

5 See, for example, Hill, 1940, 1943, 1948; Kluckhohn, 1944; Kluckhohn and Wyman, 1940; Wyman and
Kluckhohn, 1938; Wyman and Harris, 1941; Wyman, Hill, and Osani, 1942.

344 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Bury. 196

with lava rock) for grinding stones to prepare food and sand-painting
minerals. Clay was until recently used for pottery and (like red
ocher) for pigment. Alum is used as a dye mordant.

The use of animal products is or was more extensive, although
hide and sinew are the chief parts of the animal used in the con-
struction of objects. Bone was used only for awls and for reamers
and arrow straighteners. Horn was used only for arrow straighteners
and as containers for medicine. Hides were used for clothing, armor,
shields, bedding, hafting tools, carriers, waterbags, and lines. They
were boiled to form glue and used for sewing in the form of thongs.
Sinew was used for sewing and for the bowstring as well as for the
backing of the smew-backed bow. Rabbitskins were used in bedding;
squirrelskins and other furs in bags and in ceremonial equipment.
Mountain lion skin was used only for medicine bags, quivers, and
war caps.

The other main category of materials is that of fibers (vegetable
and wool). Wool plays a major role but is used mainly for articles
that were once made of hides: bedding, shirts, sacks, cords, and
threads. On the other hand, it is not used for ceremonial articles
which must be made of buckskin. Flexible plant fibers, roots, and
leaves were used in basketry and matting and in the making of tem-
porary ropes and paintbrushes.

Some materials are gathered and stored against future need (wool,
buckskin, dyes, coils of basket material, sacks of sand-painting
pigments). In general, however, only materials which have to be
imported from a distance or which are seasonal are likely to be kept
on hand. Processing of most materials is minimal. The main ex-
ceptions are silverwork, rugs, pottery, and tanning. The tendency
is for the Navaho to be a tool-using rather than a tool-making people.

Sexual division of labor was clear cut on only a few points. Both
men and women may weave'® and do silverwork. In Navaho theory,
house construction (except for plastering) and working with buckskin
are male tasks, but over the past 20 years we have observed women
participating in both these occupations. Ritual objects are made
only by men, and in the past the manufacture of hunting and war
equipment was exclusively male. Only women made baskets and
pottery (except for clay hunting pipes which were made by men).

The use of tenses in the foregoing paragraphs has been difficult
and not fully precise because of culture change. A full listing by items
would achieve accuracy but be intolerably long. But let me give a
few illustrations. No shield has been made by the Ramah Navaho
in this century and probably not since Fort Sumner. Pottery has

6 Only two Ramah men are known to have done weaving.

A Ae.
aumeaoe. PA THE RAMAH NAVAHO—KLUCKHOHN 345

not been made since 1938. There are variations by sub-area as well
as in time. For instance, I have not seen a bow and arrow made or
used within 10 miles of the village of Ramah since 1936. On the other
hand, I have seen these articles both made and used 30 miles south of
Ramah as recently as 1948.

A few simple and rather obvious generalizations can be made.
There has been a steady increase in the buying of articles from trading
stores as opposed to home manufacture. As of 1950, only four or
five elderly men still made and wore moccasins. In 1936, the Ramah
Navaho possessed only 3 iron bedsteads; in 1950, they owned more
than 30. In 1936, only two Ramah Navaho families had automobiles.
In 1952, they owned 397 automobiles (more than half of them pickup
trucks and more than half manufactured prior to 1942). Three
possessed Ferguson tractors and planters; about 35 had plows and
cultivators. Native foods (see Bailey, 1940) are less and less fre-
quently prepared except that sheep and corn are still ordinarily cooked
in the old styles. About 5,000 pounds of meat was dried in 1951.
Ritual paraphernalia is still made, but the number of individuals who
have requisite knowledge decreases each year. Moreover, as Tschopik
(1938) has documented in the case of basketry, the sheer ritualiza-
tion of some features of material culture has tended to make for the
obsolescence of these objects.

Another dimension of material culture has been beautifully docu-
mented by Roberts (1951) who examined the complete inventory of
three contiguous households to a total of 578 items. Of these, 154
were held in common by all three households, 58 were possessed by
A and B, 50 by B and C, 33 by A and C: 89 existed only in A; 185 in B,
and 109 in C (p. 77).

The general environmental setting has been considered elsewhere
in this volume. Here I shall review briefly only some features of
the specifically Navaho adaptation. Of the 456 uncultivated plant
species collected in the area, there were only 3 for which no Navaho
name was given when shown to two or more informants, and for 1
of these a use was stated. This does not mean that every plant is
well known, but it does mean that the people are observant of their
botanical surroundings and can readily distinguish between plants of
major, secondary, or minor importance in their lives. Even the
very young children know the names and uses of the common plants.
The vegetation enters into the lives of everyone from birth until
death. Poisonous plants are a threat to livestock; many plants have
magico-religious and/or economic significance. The uses of plants
are multiple, and from the Navaho standpoint they fit into that

7 Most families lacking automobiles have wagons.

346 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 196

harmony of related parts which is the Navaho view of the universe,
and with which people must make harmonious connections for an
abundant life. (Vestal, 1952.)

By far the greatest number of plants are used as medicines, either
in association with ceremonials or as home remedies during parturition
and nursing and for stomach ache, tooth ache, constipation, and sores.
Only one narcotic (Datura meteloides) is known, and this is used only
as a last resort to control excessive pain and only by those who possess
ritual qualifications. Some plants are used for good luck in gambling
or trading. Bows, arrows, dyes, ceremonial equipment, baskets,
and household articles are made of plant materials. Wood is impor-
tant, of course, for fuel and for constructing dwellings. Uncultivated
food plants are of minor but varying (between families) importance
in the total economy, with the exception of the pifion nut which is
frequently a major source of income. Tubers, seeds, fruits, and
bulbs are eaten. Yucca is used both for food and to provide a
shampoo. Gums and resins are used as chewing gum. The principal
cultivated crops are maize, beans, squash, melons, and potatoes. A
few families raise small acreages of oats, wheat, alfalfa, and garden
vegetables. In 1941, the Ramah Navaho cultivated 158 pieces of
land (ranging in size from less than an acre up to 100 acres) amounting
to approximately 3,000 acres. Manuring and other ‘modern”
farming methods were hardly followed at all, though two large fields
were tractor plowed in the 1950 period. Yields are poor owing to
farming practices, inferior seed, and uncertain weather. (Vestal, 1952.)

In absolute terms the contribution of wildlife to the diet of the
Ramah Navaho was, as of 1950, trivial. To the poorer families,
however, rabbits, porcupines, other small animals, and an occasional
deer * sometimes made the difference between nourishment and hunger.
The abundant birds are almost never eaten. Various animal pests
plague the cultivated fields, and coyotes are a danger to sheep,
especially in winter. Actually, as O’Donnell (MS., 1950) has shown at
length, the greatest significance of animal life in recent times has not
been economic but ritual. Many mammals, reptiles, and birds are
not only tabooed as food but also pose all sorts of supernatural dangers
and are constantly described as sources of illness.

In 1950, the Ramah Navaho controlled 153,600 acres of land.°
The amount used for dry farming is said to have dropped to 1,085
acres;'° 1,640 acres were malapais or other land utterly barren and

8 Thirty, for instance, were killed in the fall and winter of 1941-42.

° The 1945 figure (Bureau of Land Management statistics) was 143,313 acres of which Navaho allotments
comprised 43,331, Navaho homesteads 1,600, with the remainder leased from the Federal and State govern-
ments, the Santa Fe Railroad, the Pueblo of Picuris (52,169 acres), and White owners.

10 This figure is from Indian Service Extension reports, 1951. It is almost certainly too low, but field

observations indicate a substantial drop from 1941.

A . PAP.
No 7) THE RAMAH NAVAHO—KLUCKHOHN 347

waste; 126,355 acres were used for grazing. Each household had at
least one relatively permanent cluster of establishments, usually with
one or more adjoining fields. Clusters encompassed as many as 15
buildings of various kinds. In addition, many of the kin groups had
one or more smaller, rough and temporary establishments or camps
at various distances from their larger clusters of buildings. Each
permanent establishment included at least one hogan, made of logs
laid in saddle-notched fashion to form a hexagonal or octagonal
dome-shaped structure, surmounted by an open smoke hole and roofed
and floored with earth. At most clusters there were also small,
rectangular log cabins, many of which were equipped with a window,
fireplaces, and heating or cooking stoves of iron. ‘There were other
structures for storage; ‘shades’; corrals of logs, brush, or wire;
and small sweat houses. Water for household use came from nearby
surface accumulations or stock tanks or wells constructed by the
Government. (Landgraf, 1954.)

LIVELIHOOD

In 1951, the Ramah Navaho owned 7,318 sheep, 580 goats, 199
cows, 460 horses, and a small number of mules, burroes, swine, and
poultry. Because of drought conditions prevalent in 1950 and 1951,
these figures are sizably smaller than during the first years of the
values study and the 10 years preceding. The dipping records for
1941, for instance, show 17,885 sheep and 1,055 goats." The differ-
ential ownership by families in 1951 is shown in table 1.

TABLE 1.—Ownership of livestock, 1951
Distribution of 126 families

Livestock None} 1-5 | 6-10 }11-20/21-30/31-40|41-50/ 51-75) 76- | 101—| 151- | 201- | 301- 4o1-| Over
100 | 150 | 200 | 300 | 400 | 500 | 500

eet gaits ee 119 (eiq] [Be BS ie i | Us | UP ee eey Pek |e ee ee _ a es
ee ees 55 2 4 4 5 10 8 4 9 5 2 3 1
Gone SS eee 67 17 16 17 4 4 pM ee pe ee eS ee are ee eae eee
yao iets ai t 2 fl HRI J (eo | panes VERE 28 [ina Ve Sl aval] (Bee | ea REE OPE — heels rab | (eRe al a a

Let us explicate this table in other terms. Of all Ramah Navaho
families, 44 percent owned no sheep. One extended family owned
9 percent of all sheep, and six other families controlled from 4-6
percent of the total. In part, this wide variation is the consequence of
the Government livestock system being based on herd counts of
a selected year. The same kind of inequality is reflected in access

1 Fluctuations have apparently gone on for many years. The Annual Report of the Department of the
Interior (1919), vol. 2, p. 243, states that in 1918 the Ramah Navaho had 7,000 head of sheep; in 1915, 10,000;
and in about 1908, 12,000.

348 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 196

to land; eight families use 160 acres or less, while four families have
rights to 10-30 sections.

Total income from animals in 1951—sales of wool, lambs, hides,
and products consumed at home—may be estimated at about $70,000.
The comparable 1943 estimate was $40,000. The value of cultivated
plants (corn,” cereals, squash, melon, beans) eaten was probably
in the neighborhood of $5,000. Cash income from wagework in
postwar years has averaged at least half as much as livestock income.
Each year Ramah Navahos have worked as railroad section hands;
as pickers of beets, carrots, and cotton; as farm and ranch hands,
herders, loggers, etc. In 1951, 23 men earned a total of $12,000 on
the railroad, and they and others gained $24,000 from other work,
locally and away from Ramah. Handicrafts (rugs, silver, beadwork)
brought in about $1,500. Welfare and other Government benefits
brought some $23,000 into the community. Other miscellaneous
income (trade, gathering, sale of timber, fees of ceremonialists and
herbalists, etc.) might have accounted for as much as $3,000. <A very
rough estimate of per capita real income would be $230.

There is a per person indebtedness of approximately $100. This is
owed primarily to the trading stores, advanced against wool and
lamb crops or secured by the pawning of jewelry, saddles, guns,
and other articles of value. The stores charge 10 percent on overdue
accounts. Probably less than 12 percent of Navaho buying in the
Ramah area is by cash.

For 1941, Landgraf (1954) characterizes Navaho purchases as
consisting largely of food and clothing but with relatively sizable
investments in machinery, automobiles, and tools from time to
time. The bulk of the food purchases were flour, fruit, sugar, coffee,
and cooking fat. The greatest changes in consumption patterns
that took place between 1941 and 1951 were increased gasoline
sales, more money spent in car repairs (perhaps $5,000 in 1951),
more purchase of medicines, and closer approximation of Anglo-
American buying of food and clothing. In 1951, Ramah Navahos
bought almost everything that Ramah Whites bought at the trading
stores except canning equipment, cooking spices, and electric light
bulbs. The Navaho purchased little feed for livestock, although a few
owners bought bales of alfalfa, cotton cake, and grain. Expenditures
for wine, liquor, and beer are not inconsiderable, but I would not
venture even an estimated total annual figure.

Hobson (1954) sums up Navaho economic values as follows:

. wealth accumulation is a primary preoccupation. A high valuation is
placed upon the possession of land, livestock, houses, clothes, and jewelry. The

13 Navaho corn yields average 600 pounds to the acre, beans 400.

ta ete THE RAMAH NAVAHO—KLUCKHOHN 349

oO.

66.

stress is not only on quantity (“lots of property,” “big herds,’’ ‘‘plenty to eat’),
but on quality (‘nice things to wear,” “good horses’’).... the statements
examined evidence a surprisingly intense interest in making money, saving money,
and getting wagework for money as well as a deprecation of losing money through
gambling. The value placed on money (though not on property) may be regarded
as an index of acculturation. ([Ibid., p. 28.]

Sheer accumulation of wealth is of less importance than its display or its
generous distribution. . . . Through the possession of property one can “go
anywhere without being ashamed.”’ The way to earn money, to acquire property,
and to become a rich man is by working hard.

But far outweighing hard work as a means of accumulating wealth is the
caution to preserve one’s possessions.

. . a Set of socio-economic values which regulates the accumulation of wealth
and dictates the manner of its distribution: ‘‘don’t be too rich,” ‘‘never get poor,”’
“look after your family,’’ and ‘“‘help people out.” [Ibid., p. 29.]

OCCUPATIONAL SPECIALIZATION

In 1950, there were 21 ceremonial practitioners including those who
practiced divination by hand trembling. The only singer of consider-
able standing died in this year, and his death left his two brothers
(one not a singer but a practitioner of Blessing Way) as the only
respected ritualists, though there were a number of “mouth-put men”
(i.e., amateurs” who know only excerpts of a rite and its accompany-
ing myth). Eight individuals (four of them women) practiced
divination. All ceremonialists gained some income, but only the
one singer, the conductor of Blessing Way, and three of the diviners
devoted a significant segment of their time to these activities. There
were also four recognized herbalists (three of them women) who
gathered plants for rites and as folk medicine (including herbs for
abortion and birth control).

One man and his two wives were silversmiths at this time. Thirty-
three women did some weaving, but only seven or eight could be
considered regular weavers. The last potter was dead. Only one
woman still made baskets. Three elderly men made moccasins for
sale as well as for themselves and their families. Some men and some
women had reputations for special skills as shearers of sheep. Other-
wise the only occupational specialization was along sex lines: Women
primarily but not exclusively did the cooking and looked after the
children; men broke horses and looked after cattle; the sheep were
cared for by children and by adults of both sexes; and heavy farmwork
was carried out mainly by men, with women and children doing the
weeding and other lighter work. Ramah women do not sing at
ceremonials, but women singers have been imported from other areas.

747-014-6623

350 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Bunn 196

DEMOGRAPHY
BIRTHS

From 1871 to 1949 (inclusive) there were 1,105 established con-
ceptions by period and sex as given in table 2. Twenty-three of
these conceptions are known to have resulted in the death of the
mothers. Live births totaled 984. Of these, 122 died within the
first year of life and 28 more during the second year. Of the 605 live
births at Ramah prior to 1935, 210 men and 216 women reached
adulthood as determined by one or more of the following criteria:
marriage, known first menstruation, and age of 16 in the case of boys.

TasBLe 2.—Conceptions from 1871 to 1949

Sex
Period Total

Male Female | Unknown

a | a | a |

PSC 00n! war eit Gig! _pieas. 27 28 1 56
TSO L-1OROs 2 fo eee es 157 149 7 313
POS AOS Se 2S Leh eae 300 321 25 646

Gta ness | Se See 484 498 33 1,015

Of 53 women assumed to have passed the childbearing age, and
when full facts are available, the number of known conceptions is
as listed in table 3.

TABLE 3.—Known conceptions of 58 Ramah women

11 12 13 14

Number of conceptions__ 0 0
© WO pcdllee WeUR

Number of women_-_-_-_-_-

on
a
bo bo

The modal numbers for conception are 10 and 12. The average
number of conceptions per woman is 8.04. While only those cases
were included where the data are considered approximately complete,
there is no doubt that these figures are on the conservative side because
of stillbirths not reported and perhaps a few children who died as
infants many years ago and whose births and deaths were not recol-

13 One parent of approximately three-fourths of 1 percent of these was non-Navaho (23 had a Chiricahua
Apache parent, 13 a Walapai parent, 8 a Laguna parent, and 6 a Zuni parent; 5 definitely or more probably
had a local White as father, and 1 a Mexican). These are not, however, sufficient figures upon which to
base any estimate ofnon-Navaho genes. There are two reasons: Family tradition and phenotypic evidence
indicate non-Navaho ancestors prior to 1870; and some spouses in the “founding” generation are known to
have been half-Chiricahua. Ofall marriages recorded in the genealogies, slightly under 3 percent were with
non-Navaho.

Sa a THE RAMAH NAVAHO—KLUCKHOHN 351
lected. Twelve pairs of twins (all except one of like sex) have been
born since 1874."

Of those who had reached adulthood by 1950, there is a presumption
that seven men and five women are infertile because all of these had
married at least two different individuals and failed to have children.
Three other men and one woman had a single marriage of 3 years
or more duration without conception resulting. Lack of fertility
seems to attach to a limited number of family lines. Four of the men
and two of the women who have had two or more marriages, and all
three of the men with a single marriage, are closely related, all being
descendants of the Chiricahua Apache women who married at Ramah.
Three of the other women with two or more marriages who are infertile
are full sisters.

MARRIAGES AND AFFAIRS

Fertility is increased by the early age of marriage. Before the
Ramah Navaho went to school in any numbers, girls were, with very
few exceptions, married within a year or two after their first menstru-
ation. Even in the 1940—50 decade, nine were married at 16 or under,
but the average age of first marriage had climbed to 17.7.15 Prior to
1910 (and in a sizable number of cases thereafter), it was rare for a
boy to be unmarried at 19, and some were married at 15 and 16. In
the 1940-50 period, the average age of first marriage was 19.9.1
Total cases of first marriages occurring from January 1, 1940, to
September 1, 1950, are as shown in table 4.

TaBLe 4.—Total cases of first marriages occurring January 1, 1940, to September
1, 1950

Age at marriage

13 | 14] 15 | 16 | 17} 18 | 19 | 20] 21

22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26

Fertility is also increased by the existence of polygyny. In the
1871-1950 period, there were 51 polygynous marriages at Ramah.
Forty-seven of these involved only two wives at any particular time.
The remainder involved three wives simultaneously. Some of these
marriages have been polygynous for only comparatively short periods
because of death or divorce. In other instances, the older wife had
passed the reproductive age at the time of the second marriage or
very shortly thereafter. The pressure of missionaries and (occasion-

14 This is even higher than the figure reported by Jeffreys (1953) in his survey of African twin data.
15 In these estimates, only cases are used where the ages of the individuals are quite reliably determined.

352 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Bunn 196

ally) of the Government and the general influence of non-Indian cul-
ture has diminished a little the incidence of polygyny during the past
20 years. However, in 1950, nine men were still living with two
wives. Over the 80-year period, polygyny has surely contributed to
the fertility of this population.

Finally, it may be presumed that the strong tendency for Ramah
Navahos to mate during their lifetime with two or more different
individuals affects fertility, since impediments to conception or live
birth in one marriage may disappear with a change of partners.
Table 5 gives the figures by marriages and by “‘affairs.’”’ It is neces-
sary to include the latter category because of the existence of unions
of longer or shorter duration which the Navaho, speaking in their
own language, refuse to term a “marriage” but which are more or
less publicly recognized as such. Entered in the tabulation are only
those instances where either publicly acknowledged children resulted
or where the association went on steadily for at least a few months.
Cases in which gossip reports or an individual in question admitted
to intercourse on one or a few occasions are not included. In a few
instances, informants disagreed as to whether a union did or did not
constitute a “‘marriage.” Ihave tabulated as ‘‘marriages” only those
cases where all or a vast majority of informants agreed on this judg-
ment. For purposes of human biology, it makes no difference, of
course. But for purposes of social organization, there is a significant
distinction.

TaBLE 5.—Marriages and “affairs” by age group and sex

Number of individuals involved in indicated | Number of individuals

number of marriages involved in indicated

Age group ! Sex number of “‘affairs’”’

Sal Gil av 1) “otal 1 2 3
S010 22 ee ees 1 ee 5{ 3] O| O| O 41 4 3 0
We a3 6 1 0 0 0 41 4 4 2
Albee. See Be Mes Cheah We tS el) 30 5 0 1
eas 5 1 0 0 0 22 2 0 0
yee ee ee 1M ee 6 4 1 0 0 24 4 0 0
xan 1 1 1 0 0 19 3 0 0
Owver60 ies S22 aoe as MD 4 5 3 0 1 25 2 1 0
eee & 4 1 1 i 0 28 4 2 0
Motel svete. 22-2 jae ee 38 | 17 7 2 1 2230 28 Th 3

: Sibi fe tetlod taaieiaaals only: 120 male; 110 female.

The average number of marriages for men and women (who married
at all) in three age groups is informative (table 6). These figures
would be somewhat increased if one added the affairs. Again, how-
ever, an underestimation both for marriages and affairs must be
presumed. Some of short duration were undoubtedly forgotten or

Astagyr Par. = THE RAMAH NAVAHO—KLUCKHOHN 353

deliberately not reported. In respect to individuals who died prior
to 1910, there were instances where no person was alive after 1935
who was in a position to give complete information on the marriage
record. Table 5 shows four individuals in their thirties who had been
married four times. Actually, of individuals in their twenties in 1950
or who died before reaching 30, two women and one man had already
married four times, one man and one woman three times.

TABLE 6.—Average number of marriages among Ramah Navahos

Age group ! Men Women
ah ree aE een See aa Rie aw eee 2 ee G 1.9 Lal
Al 50222 =- = Be ee ns Re eee gee Lime em ee, See 2.18 2.1
PE ah) a al MS DR ag ete 42 eg 2.5 1.8
Oger. GOO Lie FIO eM POE ONL, BOF et Dt le Be 3. 0 2.1

1 Tn 1950 or at age of death.

It will be noted from table 5 that only one man past the age of 60
had had only a single marriage. As a conservative approximation—
at least for the period before the intensive acculturation of the last
15 years—we can make the following statements. It was very un-
likely that any man would reach old age without having been married
to at least two different women. A great many would have had three
wives and a considerable number four or more. A fair number of
women would have had only a single husband by the age of 60, but
many would also have had two, three, or more. Most fertile men
and women who lived to the age of 60 would have had children from
at least two different spouses.

One other matter requires explicit mention. Ramah Navaho men
who reached the age of 30 without marriage, are not known to have
had children through affairs. This does not apply to the women.
Of the 12 women who had not married by 30 or later, 3 had had 1 or
more children. Also, a number of women who have been widowed
or divorced for some years have continued to bear children.

Table 7 presents the age and sex composition of the population as
of September 1, 1950.

GENERAL HEALTH

Medical examination of 466 men, women, and children in 1948 and
1950 showed 37 percent to be undernourished and less than 1 percent
to be overweight. Ninety-one percent were recorded as in good, gen-
eral health. It should be noted, however, that these examinations
took place in the summer, when respiratory ailments are least prom-
inent. All fieldworkers over the years have had a strong impression

354 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 196
TABLE 7.—Age and sex composition of the population of Ramah 1

Age Number | Number of Total
of males females

1) ee ne Sees oe es Sere re eee Peer ae eee 42 54 96

Oa TGs ee ae arn ne San See ee ere ae a ean 45 47
208 eto See obo ee ee ee re = See seas ee Oe 32 30 62
71 VED 15 i ep airtel aps meee aie eho ern a pa = SEs, SRC 23 28 51
25 -O0) 8 an nana eee ee ee eee seen Se eee oe 20 31 51
BOSS Be fast a sek ee eee eee ee Se eee oe emeoee a 19 17 36
Saat 2a the RR ie er Oa ee a eee ee eee 16 19 35
AAA Too 2 oe Bn ee Sede eek | os ae a ee 14 il 25
45-50... ..- 28S SS ee ts SOE LESS PSS SR Sess 10 11 21
US a ee ee ee ee: eee 20 16 36
Om ee ee ee re are ee ae re ee Re a ee 10 if 17
C6 Co) i {| ne ee ee eee 4 3 7
"PO tg] Sas ete Rd ea RR Be ne es ed a 304 321 625

1 As of September 1, 1950.

that illness was a constant and serious problem in this group. Res-
piratory disease, skin infections, and eye trouble ” are recorded
most frequently for adults; intestinal afflictions for children. During
the course of the past 20 years, more than 100 individuals are known
to have had tuberculosis at one time or another. The disease has
halved the number of at least two families and come close to exter-
minating two others. Navahos are also highly susceptible to infec-
tious diseases (influenza, whooping cough, measles, chickenpox, and
the like) that reach them from the surrounding populations.

There are also a fair number of deformities and biological abnor-
malities in this population. Six women and four men walk with a
limp. In the case of at least four of the women this is known to be
congenital as a consequence of flat acetabula. One of the women
and two of the men limp as a result of injuries (fractures which did
not unite properly). Six individuals are deaf in both ears; seven in
one ear; five others are perceptibly hard of hearing. Of all these
persons, only four are past middle age. Of the 466 subjects med-
ically examined, 29 have perforated eardrums. One woman is deaf
and mute. There are two hydrocephalic idiots, one low-grade moron,
and one stutterer. In 1950, seven persons (two of them old) were
blind or nearly blind from trachoma or cataracts or both. Five in-
dividuals (all from the same lineage) were afflicted with night blind-
ness. In the 1948-50 period, 9 individuals are known to have had
syphilis; 11 men and 9 women had gonorrhea. Mouth disorders are
frequent. Only 65 percent of those examined had gums in good con-
dition. Eighty-two individuals had tooth enamel damaged by wear,
chipping, or erosion. Dental decay and pyorrhea are frequent.
These records correspond to the constant reference in notes of field-

16 Actually, only 85 percent of those examined medically were free of some form of dermatitis.
1” Less than 80 percent of those examined were free of eye abnormalities of some sort.

A 12
AE TEROR | PAP. THE RAMAH NAVAHO—KLUCKHOHN 300

workers to toothache, mouth abcesses, teeth pulled, and the like.
There are individual cases of minor abnormalities: tumors, bone
exostoses, supernumerary nipples, six toes, spinal curvatures, de-
formed arms, and squint eyes.

Degenerative diseases are not absent here but are relatively in-
frequent. Of approximately 450 persons examined, about 95 percent
revealed no heart abnormality and only 3 individuals showed a con-
dition that could be described as serious or semiserious. ‘There was
one known case of cancer in the previous decade. There is one known
case of cerebral hemorrhage.

DEATHS

Total Ramah Navaho deaths (including those of immigrants) for
the period 1871-1949 are given in table 8. Further information on
conditions of life as they may bear upon values can be obtained from
a consideration of the available facts upon causes of death. I include
only those data that are based either on accidents (e.g., an infant’s
burning to death) or medical testimony. Of the total 372 known
deaths in this population (table 8), there are definitely established
causes for 129 as detailed in table 9.

TasLe 8.—Ramah Navaho deaths, 1871-1949 1
Sex
Period Total
Male Female Unknown

Sl = OO Seer at = ee eee SER ek 7 i 1 13
MSO 1OROE 2 St Ro 2 ges ae 46 47 5 98
1tO26-49 2 ee Se Baie 8 BAS A be. 137 110 14 261
opal..-+ oe 552 wigs) Se 190 162 20 oie,

1 Including those of immigrants,

TABLE 9.—Causes of Ramah deaths

Cause Number
Respiratory ailment (tuberculosis, pneumonia, influenza) ---_--_----_-------------------------- 33
PA CCICONEGNM Hees ets ka ne OSS Sena oan Sees e ees eee oo eat eameee 26
Infants and children from dysentery and other intestinal ailments__-__---------_-- IF =P eng 23

IVEothers as: a. consequence Olicniid births. 20. ae ee ee 8 on ee 23
HMomicidet(all mentexcopt-one infant) 2202 Ss ss Se ee, SU ER TENS EE eS EE 6
Infectious diseases (whooping cough, tpt ip teria) ss a es ee 6
Iniantsas: ayconsequence Of birtninjury soso eee ea eo eee eee en eee 5
Derenerative diseases (cancer, heart diese ae eee ee Oe eee Sree mme er sree sy 4
Suicides: 2: 223222- 222 be ete ee oe a ee ek oe Soe eee ee oto oe ee 2
Appendicitis. 252 e202 s Oe TREE FC See es Se RE ed Ce ieee eae 1

1 One instance was syphilitic heart disease.
2 One of these cases may have been accident rather than suicide.

356 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 196

A few comments will illuminate these figures. One man killed
another whom he believed to have caused the death of his wife by
witchcraft. A grandfather killed his infant grandchild on the ground
that this infant’s birth had resulted in his daughter’s death. The
other four murders all occurred in drunken brawls. Drunkenness
was also responsible for two deaths from an automobile accident, one
death by pneumonia (a man slept out of doors at freezing tempera-
tures), and four deaths from freezing while drunk. Finally, a mother
accidentally killed her infant son by falling upon him while drunk
and a drunken man was killed when his horse fell upon him. ‘‘Acci-
dents” also include three boys who froze to death while running away
from school,’ eight deaths (all except two of youngsters) caused by
a horse, an infant struck by lightning, an infant who died of snake-
bite, an infant who died as a consequence of being bitten by red
ants, an infant who choked to death, and one case of drowning.

Adair, Deuschle, and McDermott (1957) present the following
table (10) for causes of death among the Navaho in general.

TaBLe 10.—Ten leading causes of death among Navahos and comparative United
States general population rates, 1954}

Rate per 100,000 Percentage of total
population deaths
Cause of death

Navahos U.S. Navahos Wes:

general general

Pe Pneumonia: 6. - 2.28. oe ko eee come 123.5 23.7 16.2 2.6
Ope Gasthivisnd UOGenivIS CONUISi = nee naan a ee ener 110, 2 5.3 14.5 .6
3. Certain diseases of Ganlyuinianc yeas. sea ee nae een 102.3 39.4 13. 4 4.3
45 Aecidents—alles- case 5h. Sa be SS 2 a Se 81.0 56.9 10.6 6.2
ie ve berewlGsis—all fOPM Gee ee ee ee ee 53.0 10.5 7.0 1.1
Govbleart diseases) set 222S- tae oo eee eh foo assets 27.9 343. 4 3.7 37.4
TepNallenanLmeop asmisstteen = 28 an en ee eee oe ae 22.6 147.0 3.0 16.0
Re Nepnnitis aug MOpUnOSIS sa" =. nese nen ene enna a 17.3 12.6 2.3 1.2
OV Congenital mallormatiOuss. seers = essere ie eee een 17.3 12.9 2.3 1.4
10. Vascular lesions affecting the central nervous system- ----.- 14.6 103.6 1.9 11.3
PROGaliy soot oe oe Se ee es ee eee Se sae 569. 7 755.3 74.9 82.1

1 Prepared by the Statistics and Analysis Section, U.S. Public Health Service, Albuquerque, N. Mex.

Physiological observations by Gordon Allen, M.D., are summarized
by him (MS., 1957, p. 8) as follows:

The Ramah Navaho have significantly lower systolic blood pressures than
Puerto Ricans or White industrial workers. Particularly striking is the virtual
absence of any blood pressure rise in older women.

Blood pressure, pulse, cold pressor response and Schneider Physical Fitness
Score are all significantly related to age, as are weight and somatotype. Cardio-
vascular efficiency is significantly higher in older individuals, and in the most

18 Five children died while away at school. These have not been included in the tabulation even where
cause of death was known.

ANTHROP. PAP.
No. 79], THE RAMAH NAVAHO—KLUCKHOHN 357

acculturated males despite their younger average age. Family analysis suggests
that sex-specific genetic factors partly determine blood pressure within the normal
range and that this genetic control is more effective or achieves greater vaso-motor
stability in the Navaho environment than in modern industrial society.

PHYSIQUE»

A mean stature of 167 cm. places the Ramah Navaho male in the
medium-tall category. Although a few women are obese, the typical
Ramah Navaho is not heavy in terms of stature. They are moder-
ately long armed and broad shouldered and their legs are relatively
short compared to stature. The head is round with a mean cephalic
index of 86 in both sexes. The occiput is usually flattened but rarely
deformed. Head height ranges from low to medium. The face is
broad with relatively large and projecting malars although the
bizygomatic breadth is not great compared to head breadth. Total
facial mass is large compared to cephalic mass. Nose form ranges
from narrow to medium and a moderate degree of midfacial prog-
nathism is usually present.

Skin color varies from light-yellow brown to dark-yellow brown.
Exposed areas of the skin are deeply tanned. Hair color is medium
brown to dark brown and is lighter in females and children than in
adult males. A minority have some red hair pigment not masked by
melanin. The hair is typically straight and coarse. Head hair is
abundant; body hair is scarce, although some males have moustaches.
Eye color is typically dark brown but light-brown eyes occur in some
kindreds.

There is considerable variation in body types both within and
between sexes. Females are higher in endomorphy and males are
higher in ectomorphy. The range of adult body types in females is
721 to 215 and in males 543 to 135. The two most common body
types in females are 413 and 423 and in males 225 and 434.

About 77 percent are blood group O and 23 percent are A,, the B
gene being absent from the population. Only 1 percent are type N
and all are Rb positive. Less than 2 percent are nontasters for
phenylthiocarbamide and less than 1 percent are nonsecretors for
the ABO blood group substances. About 2 percent of males are
red-green colorblind.

Table 11 presents 12 measurements of body size and weight in adult
Ramah Navaho Indians compared to adult White residents of Ann
Arbor, Mich., all measured by the same technique and investigator.”

19 For motor habits, see Bailey, 1942.

2% The section on “‘Physique,’”’ with table 11, was kindly prepared by Dr. J. N. Spuhler, Department
of Medical Genetics, University of Michigan.

358 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLn. 196

TaBLe 11.—Comparative measurements of adult Ramah Navaho Indians and adult
White residents of Ann Arbor, Mich.

Ramah Navaho Indians Ann Arbor Whites
Measurement Males Females Males Females

(N=101) (N=117) (N=202) (N=228)

— | | | | LT

Wieiethtn(pOnnds)2as.s-aseae—eecenae 133. 1

2iet i220 21.0} 167.8 25.9 | 134.0 25.0

Stature Kem.) asso sos te ee 167.3 5.3 | 156.4 6.0 | 174.6 6.5 | 161.4 6.1
Sifting heieht (cui)ee sen ene eee 88.8 3.1 82.3 3.5 91.6 3.4 86.0 3.2
182.7 6.7 | 174.1 6.3] 197.0 6.6 | 185.6 6.5

2 = 158.0 5.6 150. 6 5.3 154.0 5.1 147.2 5.3

Head height (mm,)..--_-.----------- 126.8 5.6} 124.3 5.5 | 133.7 7.3} 126.6 7.4
Minimum frontal breadth (mm.)__--} 110.1 4.3 | 107.5 3.5 | 107.7 4.7} 102.8 5.0
Bizygomatic breadth (mm.)_-------- 148.0 5.1} 140.2 4.2] 140.3 5.1] 181.3 4.9
Bigonial breadth (mm,)_-.---------- 109.7 6.1} 104.1 4.4 | 106.2 6.4 98.0 5.4
Total face height (mm.)_-_---------- 119.3 6.1} 111.8 5.0 | 121.9 7.4 | 111.6 6.2
Upper face height (mm.,)-_--_-------- 68.9 4.0 64.8 3.9 71.4 5.0 66. 4 4.3
Nose height (mm.,)__---------------- 61.7 3.5 47.0 3.1 55.1 4.4 50.9 3.5
Nose breadth (mm,)___------------.- 39. 0 2.9 35. 4 2.8 36.3 3.1 32.5 PA |

SOCIAL ORGANIZATION

The technical details of the Navaho kinship system have been
reviewed by Bellah (1952) and others. Here only some salient points
will be mentioned. Descent is matrilineal. The brothers of the
mother play an important role with her children as disciplinarians,
in arranging marriages, and in inheritance. Maternal grandparents
also take considerable responsibility, though this may be assumed by
paternal grandparents in the case of patrilocal residence. There are
separate terms for maternal grandfather and grandmother, only one
term for paternal grandparents. The relationships between siblings
of the same sex is characterized by closeness and solidarity (especially
in the case of sisters); toward siblings of opposite sex, restraint and
respect are observed. ‘There are joking relationships of various types
and intensities between relatives of various classes, that with both
male and female cross-cousins being coarse. Mother-in-law and
son-in-law avoid each other.

Each Navaho belongs to the clan of the mother and is “born for”
the clan of the father. Members of one’s own clan are addressed by
the same kinship terms that are used for immediate biological relatives
of corresponding sex and generation. There are sentimental linkages
and some economic reciprocities between allclansmen. These apply—
but in attenuated form—to the group of two to five clans that are
“linked” to one’s own. In recent generations, however, the prime
function of clans and of linked clan groups has been that of regulating
marriage. One may not marry:

1. A member of one’s own clan

2. A member of one’s father’s clan

3. A member of a clan ‘‘linked’’ to one’s own clan

4. A member of a clan “‘linked’’ to one’s father’s clan

No 7) )0«~SCU THE RAMAH NAVAHO—KLUCKHOHN 359

The Ramah genealogies show four violations (out of 399 marriages)
of the first prohibition and five violations of the second. Transgres-
sions of the third and fourth regulations have been more frequent but
cannot be enumerated exactly because of disagreement among the
Navaho themselves as to which of the clans should be considered
linked. Indeed many Navahos under 40 years of age in 1950 could not
name with confidence the clans linked to their own, let alone to those
of their fathers.

The first known violation of clan exogamy occurred in 1932 and
was a Serious one because a man who was Bitter Water clan (father’s
clan: Meadow) married a woman of Meadow clan whose father was of
Bitter Water clan. There was a great local scandal, and strenuous
efforts were made to prevent the marriage and to break it up after it
occurred. By 1950, the prohibition agamst marrying into the clan
group of one’s father or mother could be considered operative only in
the case of a small number of very conservative families.

Of the more than 50 Navaho clans, 25 have been represented in the
Ramah genealogies, but a number of these by only one or a very few
individuals who married in from other Navaho bands. As of 1948,
19 clans were represented in the Ramah population. Four of these
were represented by single in-marrying males, and only six had
memberships comprising more than 16 individuals. ‘These six clans
included 97 percent of the total population: The four largest clans
comprised 77 percent, the two largest about 40 percent. (Kluckhohn
and Griffith, 1950; Spuhler, 1953.)

MARRIAGE

In theory—and to a considerable (though decreasing) extent in
practice—the first marriage is celebrated with a simple ceremony
that has often been described in the literature. Prior to 1940, well
over 90 percent of first marriages and approximately 75 percent of
later marriages were arranged by the families of the two prospective
spouses—or, in the case of males in middle age and beyond, by the
man’s direct negotiation with the family of his prospective wife.
Marriages in the 1940-50 decade were arranged in only 60 percent
(roughly) of the cases, though in a good many of the instances where
the initiative was taken by the principals, the families eventually
became involved in the exchanges of property which normally accompa-
nied arranged (socially sanctioned) marriages. Many of the “‘affairs”’
represent only philandering. Others, however, are cases where man
and woman were drawn to a stable relationship, but marriage was
opposed by their relatives on economic grounds or violation of clan
or clan group exogamy. A sizable proportion of the affairs become
recognized marriages on the birth of children.

360 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLy. 196

Approximately 12 percent of all marriages involved a mate from
outside the Ramah population. These were predominantly arranged
marriages. It was 1930 before a Ramah girl went to live on the
Navajo Reservation with a boy she had met at school. (This was
also the first instance of a Ramah woman emigrating on marriage.)
Since 1940, four women and two men have made seven nonarranged
marriages with Navahos they had met at school or while at work
away from Ramah. The Laguna Indian who moved into the Ramah
area in 1894 as a sheepherder for Spanish-Americans represents the
only other case of a nonarranged marriage with “outsiders.”

Men ordinarily move away from Ramah on their marriage to a
woman elsewhere. Since 1890, 26 Ramah men have married out
(12 to the Two Wells area, 8 to the Thoreau area, 3 to Fort Wingate,
and 3 to other parts of the Navaho country). Five of these marriages
are more correctly described as bilocal because the family spent at
least a few months a year in the Ramah area. Fourteen of the men
returned to Ramah on the dissolution of their marriages elsewhere.
Conversely, only five women moved away from Ramah upon marriage;
one to the nearby Zuni farming village (Pescado), two to the Thoreau
area, and two to the Navajo Reservation. Of these, three returned
to Ramah.

Since 1890, 39 men from outside have married into Ramah (24
from the Two Wells area, 8 from Thoreau, 2 from Fort Wingate, 2
from Zuni, and 3 from other Navaho regions). Of these, 18 returned
to their former homes on the dissolution of their Ramah marriages.
Eleven women (six from Two Wells, three from Fort Wingate, and
two from Thoreau) settled in Ramah on marriage to men there,
though one of these marriages could be called bilocal. It is notable
that, in contrast to the figures for the men, only one of these women
subsequently moved out of Ramah and she left with her husband
and family.

The fact that marriages both in and out come overwhelmingly from
three areas (Two Wells, Thoreau, and Fort Wingate) reflects three
factors; relative proximity, historical association, and the Navaho
pattern of exchange of siblings between family groups. Actually,
proximity is clear cut only in the Two Wells case, though Thoreau
by trail is about as close as any Navaho band except Two Wells. The
historical factor arises from the circumstance that a number of the
“founders” of the Ramah population were either born in these three
areas or had settled in one or more of them for some time before moving
to Ramah. Connections with relatives in these regions have been
kept up through the years.“ ‘This, in turn, facilitated the arrange-

21 Ceremonials (e.g., Enemy Way) are an occasion during which relatives from difierent areas meet and
potential spouses can look each other over.

A pears
ee ae and THE RAMAH NAVAHO—KLUCKHOHN 361

ment of marriages, particularly in the form of repeated exchanges
between an extended family at Ramah and an extended family in
one of the other areas. For instance, four men and two women
(all closely related) from Thoreau over a period of years married
individuals from the same family line at Ramah. Reciprocally, the
Ramah group sent two men and two women back to the Thoreau
group. Fully three-fourths of all emigrating and immigrating mar-
riages since 1890 fall into the category of perpetuation of an exchange
(initiated before or after 1890) between very close or slightly less
close relatives in the Ramah area and a similar group in the other area.

This same pattern prevails, of course, for marriages within the
Ramah population. If a young man from family A marries a girl
from family B, there is a strong likelihood that a younger brother or
sister from family A will marry a girl or boy from family B. If one
is not available from the biological family, one will often be provided
from the extended family. Failing this, there is an appreciable
preference for a biologically related spouse from the same clan as the
children of family B. This is the probable explanation of the fact
that marriages between clans at Ramah (Spubler, 1953, p. 301) show
preferential tendencies for clans to exchange members in ways not
determined by the system of linked clan exogamy.

On September 1, 1950, there were 41 women and 19 men of the
age of 25 * or over who lacked spouses. Seven men (only one past
the age of 40) had never married and were not reported to have had
children. Seven women (all still of reproductive age) had neither
married nor had children. Four women had never married, but had
subadult children. There were six divorced men (three under 40,
one of 48, one of 56, and one of 72), nine widows (all past reproductive
age), and three widowers (all over 69 years of age). An additional 10
widows, 2 widowers, 11 divorced women, and 2 divorced men were
living as “‘heads of families’”—1i.e., without spouses but with subadult
children in their homes. Of the widows, seven were beyond repro-
ductive age; of the divorced women, three. ‘Two of the men were in
their fifties, two in their sixties.

On the same date, there were 97 marriages in force at Ramah
(see table 12, p. 364). Of the 11 polygynous ones, 7 involved the
marriage of a man to two full or half sisters (daughters of the same
mother or of the same father, but by two different wives who were
biological sisters) ; 2 were cases of the marriage of a man to a woman
and to her daughter by a previous marriage; and 2 involved the
marriage of a man to two unrelated women. Of all the polygynous
matriages at Ramah, 29 have been sororal, 10 have involved step-

2 This seems the right age to take as of this date. (See table 4, p. 351, for the age of first marriage,
1940-50.)

362 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 196

daughter marriage, and 12 have involved marriages to unrelated
women. Only three of the latter occurred prior to 1930. The data
show this form of polygyny to be much less stable than the other two
types.

There are seven cases of the simple sororate. If one looks at the
matter from the Navaho point of view, including cases of a widower
marrying a parallel cousin (or other ‘‘clan sister’’) of his deceased wife,
the number mounts to 18. There are only three instances of the
simple levirate; seven more as defined by Navaho culture.

One is tempted to say that sororal polygyny, the sororate and all
other forms of marriages preferred by this culture are merely special
instances of the more general principle; repeated exchanges between
two extended families or other groups of close relatives. This generalization
will cover the overwhelming majority of all Ramah marriages,” em-
bracing such instances as the following which are less sharply patterned
than the exchange of marriageable siblings between two biological or
extended families. A man married the divorced wife of his sister’s
son. Another married the widow of his sister’s son. Conversely,
another Navaho married the widow of his mother’s brother. Still
another married two daughters born to the wives of his mother’s
brother by their previous marriages. A young man married the
daughter of his father’s divorced wife (from Thoreau). Six men have
married a sister of a wife from whom they had been divorced. One
man married three sisters in succession with one of the two from
whom he was divorced marrying his biological brother and the other
marrying his parallel cousin. There are numerous cases of men
marrying former wives of their brothers and of women marrying
brothers or ‘‘clan brothers” of their ex-husbands. Two men (brothers)
married (in succession) the daughter of their brother-in-law by a
former marriage. In this instance, as in others, one has grounds to
suspect the factor of sheer propinquity as well as that of the pat-
terned economic and other reciprocities. In fact, one can ordinarily
separate these two factors only by somewhat artificial abstraction.
Quite frequently, the relationships involved become somewhat intri-
cate. For example, a man married as his first wife the sister of his
sister’s husband and as his second wife the daughter of his father’s
sister’s son (who was also the man’s mother’s brother’s son).

In most cases, Navaho women are younger than their husbands.
Often—and this increasingly in the last 20 years—the difference in

23 There is, to be sure, always a first time. But one marriage of any duration almost always leads to
others. An instance occuring in the 1940-50 decade is entirely representative. In 1942, Jo Miguel married
Mary, the daughter of Pete Caballo. Two years later a marriage was arranged between Jo’s son, Easy, and
a cousin of Mary. In 1946, Jo also married Mary’s sister. In 1949, Pete, Mary’s father, married the young
daughter of Jo.

No 7, Y)6)«6U THE RAMAH NAVAHO—KLUCKHOHN 363
age is only a few years. However, in the total Ramah records,”
the wife was 5-10 years younger in 49 cases, 10-15 years younger in
27 cases, 15-20 years younger in 18 cases, and more than 20 years
younger in 28 cases. The last figure reflects the fact that men past
50 who are widowed or whose wife has passed the reproductive age
frequently marry again and prefer a young wife if they can obtain
one through economic or other arrangements. The converse of this
is that 13 men have married women 5-10 years older than themselves,
7 have married women 10-15 years older, and 5 have taken wives
more than 15 years older. In all save four of these cases, the mar-
riage has been the young man’s first. In 11 cases, the women had
one or more daughters by a previous marriage, and in 3 of these
instances the young man eventually also married his wife’s daughter.
All of these marriages of young men to older women have been
arranged in the pattern of continuing exchanges, largely but not
exclusively economic. The Navaho also rationalize this type of
marriage by saying that it is good for a young man to marry a woman
who is experienced in sexual and subsistence activities.

Table 12 provides information on the duration of marriages and
incidence of termination by death and divorce. It is evident that
the first 2 years (and especially the first months) are crucial. This
is notably the case with arranged marriages. The birth of a child
who survives is no guarantee that a marriage will endure beyond a
year or two, but it does make a difference because then the families
of both spouses will usually bring considerable pressure to preserve
the marriage. Navaho women who conceive at all, ordinarily con-
ceive quickly. Figures (as of 1946) are: 11 mothers had their first
child when they were 15 years of age or under; an additional 61 mothers
had a first child when the mother was under 20; 46 more women bore
when they were under 25; and only 19 women had their first child
after the age of 25.

One cannot, of course, specify the ‘‘causes” of divorce with equal
precision. One can only list the factors the Navaho talk about most
frequently and which seem to obtain from observed behavior. The
Navaho often speaks of laziness or irresponsibility or drunkenness
or physical aggression. Unwillingness or inability to perform the
sex act is also considered a valid ground for divorce. There is much
talk of nagging or unreasonable demands from relatives of the spouse.
On the basis of inference, there is reason to suspect that many of

% The population from which this and other statements referring to all marriages recorded in the Ramah
census should be taken as “around 400.”’ Actually, some information on about 750 marriages appears on the
cards. But data on marriages before 1890, on marriages of emigrants, and on marriages of some individuals
who died before 1920 are incomplete. For some purposes where reasonably reliable dates are necessary, the
number that can be tabulated falls to around 300. But for most of the tabulations in this section the num-
bers fluctuate between 360 and 425.

364 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 196
TABLE 12.—Duration of marriages 12

Years Stillin |Terminated|Terminated| Total
force by death | by divorce

(2 Ss ee ee ee Bae ee eee eee 6 5 43 54
Se ee ae a ee ae ee 5 2 21 28
OF Se eS Oe ee Sa ee ee ee 8 4 13 25
ee a ee eee 8 4 5 17
(bee S28 oc ope eos sso e ee Se eee Se se Se ae 7 6 5 18
TO er ee ets eee ee eee 358 eee ae = nei 24 15 22 61
1 Ys ee ee eee eee en 17 16 10 43
P5205 oq eeret ee 2b 3. vee ct Ate. bho ee ey toe Sete 9 8 9 26
IVEGFOIL DAN 20 Sere eas eee eens ener e eae eens 13 31 9 53

Total soe near ono soe oe ee nee noses 97 91 137 325

1 As of September 1, 1950.

2 Only those marriages are included whose dates are fixed with reasonable accuracy. Marriages broken
up temporarily but reunited are treated as a single marriage. Polygynous marriages are treated separately
for each woman involved. They often dissolved at different times.

the arranged marriages fail to survive the first year or two because
of ‘incompatibility’? whether sexual or temperamental: The spouses
do not know each other or hardly know each other, and one or the
other has to live in, or in very close contact with, a group that is
unfamiliar and has somewhat different patterns of and for behavior.

Inbreeding coefficients have been calculated for 316 matings which
produced 1,118 offspring during 7 generations (Spuhler, 1953). Of
the 316 sibships, 123 are inbred. The range of inbreeding coefficient
for individuals is 0.0010—0.0977, the mean for inbred siblings is 0.0175,
and the mean for the later generations 4 through 8 is 0.0080, and
the mean for the total population, generations 1 through 8 is 0.0066.
These values are minimum estimates for the population.

Coefficients of the order observed for the Ramah Navaho, while
about two times those found for Japan and four times those reported
for Europe, are small compared to the estimate for the Dunker iso-
lates in the United States and compared to such regular systems of
inbreeding as full first cousin mating.

RESIDENCE

Even the most accurate picture of the distribution of a Navaho
group by locality on a given date can be misleading unless certain
facts are borne constantly in mind. The composition of some families
and their places of residence have shown remarkable continuity over
the past 20 years. The membership of these family groups has
changed, to be sure, with births, deaths, and marriages, but the basic
patterns have remained very stable. Residence has shifted at one or
more seasons of the year to other hogans, cabins, or camps, but the
moves have followed each year at approximately the same times to
places that varied only a little in location as dictated by grazing con-
ditions or the building of a new dwelling (after someone had died in

Sane) EAP. THE RAMAH NAVAHO—KLUCKHOHN 365

|

the old one or it had fallen into bad condition). In the case of other
family groups, however—and most especially in the case of those of
unfavorable economic circumstances—shifts are often sudden, fre-
quent, and major. A biological family will break off from one ex-
tended family unit and join another or will establish neolocal residence.
The combinations of orphaned children and isolated adults attached
to one or more biological families constantly break and re-form in
new ways. Moreover, it should be realized that some old widows
and widowers (these most of all) can hardly be said to have “‘a’’ resi-
dence at all. They move, with stays of varying duration, among the
homes of their children, primarily their daughters; but there are cases
where widowed fathers divide their time exclusively among the homes
of their sons. Most of the children of marriages dissolved by death
or divorce are likewise constantly shifting residence at intervals of
weeks, months, or years. In the case of divorce, children ordinarily
stay with the mother, but there are instances where they divide their
time between their parents, and a few where some of the children of
a broken marriage have resided consistently with the father. In the
case of death of the mother, children most often go to the mother’s
mother or mother’s sister, but sometimes alternate residence with one
of these and the father’s mother, father’s sister, father alone, or
father with new wife.

Only one generalization as to residence is without exception in the
history of this group. In cases of sororal and stepdaughter polygyny,
each wife has her own hogan, but the hogans of the cowives are close
together. When men have married unrelated women, the hogans of
the wives are at some distance and in several cases have been 15 miles
or more apart. So far as other patterns of residence are concerned,
one can at best describe relative incidence. Thus one can say that
uxorilocal residence has always been the preferred form at Ramah,
but that there has always been a not negligible minority of virilocal
residences and at least a few bilocal and neolocal residences. The
proportion of virilocal and neolocal residences has slowly but steadily
mounted over the years.

The only way to get a vivid and concrete picture of the variety of
residence and of composition of units is by summarizing the facts as
of June 1950.75 Even here cautions must be specified. For example,
a family is not classified as bilocal unless approximately half the time
for the preceding year in question was spent at each residence. How-

% In the case of individuals or families away from the Ramah area at this time (but who had not moved
away permanently) the facts are detailed as of the most recent residence of these individuals at Ramah.
School children are assigned the residences of their parents or the residence where they last stayed while at
home on vacations. There are some small discrepancies between the figures in this list and in table 7
because the residence survey was made early in the summer of 1950 and some deaths and other changes
occurred before September 1.

T47--014—-66—— 24

366 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Bui. 196

ever, in certain instances, families assigned as “‘virilocal” spent as
much as 4 months that year in uxorilocal or neolocal residence. In
two cases listed as ‘‘virilocal,”’ wives and children (joined by the hus-
bands for portions of these periods) spent 3 months or more “‘visiting”’
the mothers’ families of orientation in Thoreau and Fort Wingate.
A man (with wife and child) who had been working at the Ramah
Navaho Day School some time is considered as a case of neolocal
residence. This assignment is arbitrary and arguable. From the
point of view of interaction and economic reciprocities, this family
could properly be grouped with the husband’s divorced sister (also
working at the Day School) and her two children as constituting an
extended family, or—still better—as belonging to the extended family
of the parents of the man and his sister, who resided only a few miles
away. ‘The above are given merely as examples to warn against an
overly literal interpretation of the list about to be presented. The
list, should, nevertheless, prevent simple generalizations (other than
purely statistical) as to residence patterns and composition of family
units.

In 97 cases, residence was uxorilocal in 47,6 virilocal in 33,” bilocal
in 6,7’ neolocal in 8, and could be classified only arbitrarily in 3.*

COMPOSITION BY SOCIAL GROUPS

I have made a complete listing of the population for June, 1950 by
“units.” A ‘unit’? consists of persons (in three instances of only a
single person) who ordinarily live together (though not necessarily
sleeping in the same dwelling) and who share meals, chores, and—to
some extent—possessions. The term “household” would be appro-
priate except that, on the one hand, it perhaps implies a single ‘“Toof”’
and that, on the other hand, it could properly be applied to at least
some of the extended families of the Ramah Navaho. In many
cases a unit means an elementary family or a polygynous family.
In other cases it consists of a single divorced or widowed parent with
subadult children. Often, however, a unit includes additional adults:
unmarried or widowed or divorced children or siblings of a spouse
or spouses; a widowed or divorced parent of a spouse; collateral
relatives and adopted children. When two parents are present (and
sometimes in other cases), additional adult relatives ordinarily sleep
in a different dwelling, but the unit nevertheless works and eats to-
gether. A type of unit that occurs frequently and characteristically

26 This means residence in an area occupied by the family of the wife or husband, respectively. It does
not necessarily mean residence within a stone’s throw of wife’s or husband’s parents or parent (if still alive).

2” These figures embrace, of course, only marriages in force at that time; they do not include widowed
and divorced persons residing with one or more subadult children.

23 Two of these ambiguous cases could be considered avunculocal as far as instigating circumstances are
concerned, but the residence of the maternal uncles in question was virilocal. The other case could perhaps
be described as filiolocal.

A . PAP.
area THE RAMAH NAVAHO—KLUCKHOHN 367

among the Ramah Navaho I call a “‘relict”’ unit; one that lacks a
single complete biological family but comprises the ‘‘remains”’ of two
or more marriages broken by death or divorce or the “‘relicts’”’ of one
such marriage plus an unmarried adult.

An “extended family’? comprises two or more units each of which
includes one parent with child or children and at least one of which
includes both parents. These units must also be linked by at least
one lineal ancestor common to all children in the group. The dwell-
ings of an ‘‘extended family” are ordinarily within sight of each other;
at any rate, they are close enough so that daily meals and work
activities rather constantly cut across the lines of the distinct units.
The extended family is involved, as well as the biological family, in
questions of inheritance, marriage, etc.

To comprehend Navaho social organization, one must introduce
two additional categories: “group” and ‘‘outfit.”” The criterion for
group is primarily geographical. A group consists of two or more
units that live within a radius of a few miles and are in frequent
interaction. Each unit has close relatives in at least one other unit
in the group, but there is ordinarily no lineal link of all children in
the group. In the few instances where this condition does prevail
with units I have classified as a group rather than as an extended
family, the classification was made on one or more of the following
grounds: One or more units in the group resided at such a distance
from the others that interaction occurred more nearly at a weekly
than at a daily level; there was irregular and relatively infrequent
sharing of meals and work activities; the group had more than one
“center of gravity” as judged by its affiliations and participations
and by the absence or irregularity of joint decisions on matters of
inheritance, marriage, and the like.

In other words, a group is a somewhat attenuated, less fully orga-
nized or unified extended family.

The criterion for “outfit” is primarily that of fairly infrequent but
rather regular pooling of resources among a group of relatives (wider
than the extended family) for certain major occasions such as sheep
dipping, shearing, and lambing; the giving of long ceremonials; some-
times planting and harvesting. A group is sometimes coterminous
with an outfit, and an extended family could be regarded as a more
closely knit outfit that performs a greater number of functions. But
most outfits embrace either a good many units residing over a sizable
space or at least one unit that is at a considerable distance from the
geographical center of the outfit. Finally, an outfit always has
either an actual leader or a figure (a man in most cases) who has
prestige through age, ceremonial knowledge, wealth—or two or more
of these factors. Navahos, speaking either in English or in Navaho,

868 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLu. 196

will constantly attach the name of this individual to indicate the
aggregation of units they have in mind.

Western speech designates as an outfit a group of persons who
habitually cooperate for certain purposes under recognized leadership,
either genuine or symbolic. This fits the observed facts in the Ramah
Navaho case very well. While the lines defining many of the outfits
are somewhat fluid and amorphous, it is nevertheless impossible
without attention to this category to understand not only the com-
position of groups which work together on major occasions but also
such phenomena as Ramah Navaho “‘politics” and certain apparently
casual patterns of visiting and small economic reciprocities.

There were (in June 1950) 125 units (135 if one counted the polyg-
ynous marriages separately). These units were composed of 39
simple nuclear families; 25 nuclear families where one or more of the
children did not belong to both spouses; 5 nuclear families where one
or more children did not belong to either spouse * (including two
families where one or more children were grandchildren of the spouses) ;
6 nuclear families plus one unmarried adult; 11 units of polygynous
marriage; °° 17 units where a single parent lives with subadult chil-
dren; 19 relict units; and 3 isolated individuals.*!

Of these units 53 are embraced in 18 extended families. If one
used somewhat more flexible but still relevant criteria or considered
a period a year or two earlier, one could speak of an additional 14
extended families. There are 5 uxorilocal groups, 2 virilocal, 5 mixed,
and 2 relict groups. ‘There are seven clearly recognizable outfits, all
but one of which are also geographical groups.

In part, both the list and this breakdown merely reflect familiar
aspects of Navaho culture such as the frequency of children being
separated from one or both parents by death and divorce and the propen-
sity for repeated exchanges of marriage partners between two families
or extended families. But some less familiar trends with hints as to
the values underlying them also emerge. Both the list and the break-
down show that Navaho social organization is based upon the asso-
ciation of relatives, but it is equally clear that actual patterns take
many forms; matrilineal, patrilineal, and bilateral. Just from the
distribution one could guess (and this is confirmed by field notes)
that some groupings arise not from standard factors of Navaho cul-
ture but individual likes and dislikes and from economic convenience.
Some groups contain particularly large aggregations of regrouped
couples or of single spouses with their children or of women with

2% All save one are cases of adoption of relatives. The other instance is that of orphaned sibiings of the
husband.

30 Only 3 husbands out of 11 have children by both wives.

31 Only two of these actually live mainly in complete isolation. The third individual lives alone but in
a hogan next to hogans occupied by two other units.

499), 8’) THE RAMAH NAVAHO—KLUCKHOHN 369
unmarried children. Finally, the evidence of acculturation upon
residence and other aspects is obvious. In general, the greater
the influence of European culture the greater the probability that
residence will be virilocal or neolocal and the greater the tendency
toward ‘‘weak” social organization. It is almost impossible today to
make valid generalizations about ‘‘ideal patterns” of residence as op-
posed to the behavioral facts. The best one can say is that there is
still—even among younger people—a feeling that uxorilocal residence
“ought” to be preferred but a growing conviction that the newly
married couple can properly choose their place of residence in accord
with all the circumstances bearing upon their particular case.

POLITICAL ORGANIZATION

Power has tended to be in the hands of older people * who are still
in full possession of their faculties, of the more wealthy, of singers.
More often than not at least two of these qualities are combined in
the person ofaleader. The degree of power of, say, an elderly, well-off
singer depends upon his individual personality and upon the number
of energetic and respected relatives he has in his extended family or
outfit. The exercise of power is seldom overt and direct but rather
masked, oblique, and diffuse. Evident power, like evident wealth,
is a cause of jealousy and an invitation either to attack by witches
or to gossip that the holder is a witch.

Most decisions, from the level of the nuclear family to that of the
total Ramah group, are in fact arrived at by informal and often long
protracted discussions. In the old days—and to some extent as late
as 1950—matters of dispute or decisions that went beyond the ex-
tended family were threshed out in a meeting in the presence of the
recognized leader of the outfit or the headman of the Ramah band.
Anyone present (including women) might speak. The leader or
leaders would ordinarily say little (beyond asking questions) until
toward the conclusion of the discussion when advice or a decision
would be rendered.

From about 1880 until 1942, the leaders of the Ramah community
were from a single family line: Many Beads; his son, Bidaga; the
brother-in-law of Bidaga; and the son of the daughter of Many Beads.
These individuals were recognized as headmen by the United States
Government, though in 1924 the Government introduced a ‘‘chapter”’
organization. According to this system an annual meeting of adult
men and women elected a president, vice president, and secretary.
But annual meetings were not always held, and the authority of

23 In the postwar years several younger men have emerged to positions of distinct leadership. The most
recent ‘“‘headman”’ has been in his middle to late thirties, wealthy, and married polygynously,

370 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 196

the headman continued to be recognized until 1942 whether or not
he happened to be president of the chapter at the time. Indeed,
Bidaga exercised great influence and was consulted more or less
formally by individuals and groups after he had (in 1935) turned
over his post as headman to his brother-in-law. In fact, his role
as elder statesman of the community prevailed until his death in 1954.

After 1939 the Ramah band elected not only chapter officers but
also a delegate to the Navaho Tribal Council. This position came
within a few years to be regarded as equivalent to the old headmanship,
and from 1942 onward many elections were hotly contested along
factional lines which in considerable part were those of ‘‘progressive”’
and ‘‘conservative’ and, on some occasions, Christian versus the
ancient religion. There have usually been two main factions, though
their membership has fluctuated and some families have never con-
sistently alined themselves with either faction. From time to time
another issue between the factions has been whether the Ramah band
should be under the jurisdiction of the Navajo Agency at Window
Rock or the United Pueblos Agency at Albuquerque (with subagency
at Black Rock).

Frequency of community meetings has varied greatly with the
character and personality of local leaders and representatives of the
Bureau of Indian Affairs. In some years during the 1940-50 period
there were only 2 or 3 meetings a year, in others as many as 20. Meet-
ings are held at the chapter house * near the school which was built
in 1943. Adult attendance has been as low as 15 and as high as 98.
Matters considered range from complaints of improper conduct on
the part of members of the group to consideration of the activities
of missionaries, sending the Navaho children to school, elections,
and requests to the Bureau of Indian Affairs for services or action of
some kind. Discussion often lasts 5 or 6 hours or longer, for the goal
is still that of reaching a unanimous consensus of opinion. Moreover,
presentations are stylized, deliberate, and repetitious. Most of the
speeches are by men and by individuals of at least middle age, though
a few of the veterans of World War II have spoken often and at length.

During most of the period since 1943, there has also been a local,
elected Navaho judge who hears cases that are not serious enough
for the Federal courts. Analysis of the records shows that charges
are most frequently brought for the following (in order of frequency):
drunkenness with attendant bodily or sexual assault or property
damage; theft; and trouble between a married couple or illicit sexual
acts. An attempt is usually made to arrange restitution or otherwise
work out an amicable settlement between the parties. Where this

33 Built by cooperative Navaho effort under stimulation from the then agent at Black Rock

No 73, 0? = THE RAMAH NAVAHO—KLUCKHOHN 371
fails, fines or jail sentences are imposed. Intermittently since 1939
there has been a local Navaho policeman.

The main mechanisms of social control in daily life remain the
informal and customary ones. The Ramah Navaho have never
constituted a unified and tightly knit community. Trends in this
direction have been sporadic, short lived, and artificial because insti-
gated from the outside. During an interval in the forties when the
agent at Black Rock was exceptionally interested in the Ramah
Navaho and was liked and trusted by them, the chapter house was
built by voluntary effort and there was an attempt to run a cooperative
trading store with two veterans as managers. But this latter venture
collapsed after a few years, and the store was sold to one of the Mor-
mon traders from Ramah. Probably one of the principal reasons
that the Navaho have been much less resistant to cultural change
than the Zuni is the lack of a strong central social and political orga-
nization to oppose change.

RELIGION

Navaho religion in general, and that of the Ramah Navaho in
particular, has been presented at great length in numerous publi-
cations (see Rapoport, 1954). Here, therefore, I shall only add a
little new material.

The 1940-50 period was one during which a fair number of Ramah
Navahos for longer or shorter periods completely rejected their
native religion. However, Vogt’s (1951, p. 107) figures on ceremonial
participation of 15 young men during 1947 demonstrate that only 1
failed to attend a single ceremonial during that year and the mean
number of ceremonials attended was 10.6. Indeed there are other
hints (such as increased taking of sweat baths during at least 1947
and 1948) of a response of antagonistic acculturaltion to missionary
activity, the Ramah Navaho Day School, and other new pressures.
The number of witchcraft stories (gossip and actual accusations)
also hit a new peak during the 1945-50 epoch. This latter probably
reflects the heightened economic anxieties and increased interpersonal
tension consequent upon economic threat, erosion of the traditional
culture and the reforming of the community after the dislocations of
World War ITI (soldiers leaving and returning, men and whole families
leaving the area to work in ammunition depots, etc.). The peyote
religion has gained no adherents at Ramah.

A vivid and detailed account of Navaho religion in the life of one
person (himself a diviner) will be found in Leighton and Leighton
(1948). Spencer (1957) has analyzed intensively a portion of Navaho
mythology to throw light on Navaho life view.

Sie BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Buty. 196

The value themes identified in plot construction center in four areas: the
maintenance of health; the acquisition of supernatural power; the maintenance
of harmony in family relationships; and the process of the young man’s attain-
ment of adult status. [Ibid., p. 86.]

Responsibility and self-reliance are valued character traits, but
self-assertion contains both beneficent and aggressive-destructive
components. The problem of aggression tends to be treated on the
basis of a “practical” morality. (Ibid., pp. 92-94.)

PSYCHOLOGY

Leighton and Kluckhohn (1947, especially chs. 4 and 8) have pre-
sented a more extended treatment of Navaho “psychology” than will
be possible here. The purpose of this section is to summarize some
of the material obtained in the past decade insofar as it appears to
constitute background relevant to an understanding of Ramah Navaho
values. The Navaho are not a very “open” people in dealing with
outsiders (cf. McAllester, 1954, pp. 76-77, 80-81). Even compared
with, say, the Western Apache, they are reticent and suspicious and
take a good deal of knowing. This is due, I believe, at least in part,
to their having been so badly “seared”’ by their contacts with Whites.
This reaction and the accompanying withdrawal and defensiveness
appear more prominently at Ramah than in some other Navaho areas.

Bruner (1953) administered the dart test to 152 Ramah Navahos
over 12 years of age. This experiment indicated that the Navaho
individual changes his own aspirations in the direction of the aspi-
rations of the Navaho group once the group’s norms are made known
to him. The Navaho also tend to sit tight and do nothing in an
unfamiliar situation. Women were found to be less conforming than
men on the dart test.

This last finding fits with the demonstration by Hughes (MS., 1951) and
Rapoport (1954) that women have joined the Nazarene church in
greater numbers than men and play a more active role in singing and
other aspects of the services. It may also link with Strodtbeck’s
(1951) discovery that when Navaho couples engage in a discussion
the wives win more decisions than the husbands, although the number
of their acts of participation in these small group situations is lower
than that of their husbands. The special psychology of Navaho
women may also be reflected in Edmonson’s (MS.) finding that, in
contrast to both Hispano and Anglo culture, Navaho culture has a
type of ‘dirty joke” appropriate to each sex.

Heath’s (MS., 1952) study of drinking among the Ramah Navaho high-
lights many features both of psychology and of social structure.
Drinking parties are an occasion for sociability but also for sexual

A P, PAP.
eee THE RAMAH NAVAHO—KLUCKHOHN ole

release and much expression of aggression. Drinking tends to take
place in small groups. Heath’s sample shows 39 pairs, 22 trios, and
only 12 groups of four or more persons. The most frequent combina-
tions of kin are maternal uncle with maternal nephew and brothers-
in-law. Biological brothers and clan brothers drink together with
only slightly less frequency. Husbands and wives drink together
about half as often. Drinking by women is condemned by the more
conservative Navahos, and far the greatest part of female drinking
at Ramah is by women under 35. With the partial exception of
married couples, drinking in mixed groups is generally disapproved,
and out of 405 drinking episodes Heath found only 46 in which both
sexes participated.** The hostility which comes out is not random
but bears a relation to some of the main tensions in Navaho social
structure as well as to geographical propinquity. Drunken assaults
occur in the following order of frequency: husband and wife; maternal
uncle and nephew; father-in-law and son-in-law; and clan brothers.
It is noteworthy that although cross-cousins often drink together,
there is not a single instance in the field notes of drunken quarrels
between them.

Kaplan’s (1954) work with projective tests indicates that only on a
few points can one make sound generalizations (other than gross and
somewhat conflicting statistical trends) about the psychology of the
Ramah Navaho. They do (ibid., p. 24) manifest an oral dependency
syndrome which is completely absent in the Mormon group.

A monograph by Bailey (1950) and a chapter by Kluckhohn (1955)
contribute to an understanding of the sexual psychology of the Ramah
Navaho. Briefly, sex and the reproductive cycle of women are heav-
ily tinged with supernatural beliefs and practices. On the other hand,
sex at the suitable time and place and with a proper person is not
“nasty” but rather one of the good things of life. In Freudian lan-
guage, the Navaho have object taboos but not aim taboos. While—
by the standards of Christian culture—the Navaho are far from
puritanical as far as sexual behavior is concerned, and they make
many ribald jokes (though between certain relatives reticences must
be scrupulously observed), they are nevertheless modest about expo-
sure of the genital areas.

As for the more cognitive aspects of psychology, the Navaho operate
with a more limited variety of hypotheses than do Anglos; but within
those limits the best Navaho minds think as rigorously as any others
(cf. Ladd, 1956). Navahos tend to be systematists and classifiers,
and they are often quite precise about their categories. There is a

34 In only 15 of these incidents did sexual promiscuity fail to occur.
35 Includes only pairs reported on four or more occasions.

374 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Buy. 196

marked tendency for all systems to be anchored at one or more points
to Navaho theology and its terminology.

FINAL REMARKS

In reflecting on the values of the Ramah Navaho one must always
bear in mind the variations as well as the similarities in the situation
and culture of this group. Situation varies with age groups; degree
of acculturation of one or more members of the family; sheer location

(distance from Ramah, Zuni, Atarque); and quality of the land held.
The effective culture varies along the lines of sex, generation, and ac-
culturation as dependent upon personal experience regardless of age,
location, and other factors. Even among closely related families of
not dissimilar age composition, living contiguously, Roberts’ (1954)
microscopic investigation has indicated how many positive and nega-
tive differences may exist.

LITERATURE CITED

Apatr, JouN; Deuscu.te, Kurt; and McDermott, WALsH.

1957. Patterns of health and disease among the Navahos. Amer. Acad.
Polit. and Soc. Sci., Ann. No. 311, pp. 80-95.

ALLEN, GORDON.

. Physiological observations on the Ramah Navaho. Paper presented
at Annual Meeting of American Association of Physical Anthro-
pologists, Ann Arbor, Mich., April 1957.

BAILEY, FLorRa.

1940. Navaho foods and cooking methods. Amer Anthrop., n.s., vol. 42,
pp. 270-290.

1942. Navaho motor habits. Amer. Anthrop., n.s., vol. 44, No. 2, pp.
210-234.

1950. Some sex beliefs and practices in a Navaho community. Peabody
Mus. Archaeol. and Ethnol., Harvard Univ., Pap. vol. 40, No. 2.

BELLA, Ropert N.

1952. Apache kinship systems. Harvard Univ. Press, Cambridge, Mass.

Boyp, Wriu1aM C., and Boyp, Lytz G.

1949. The blood groups and types of the Ramah Navaho. Amer. Journ.
Phys. Anthrop., vol. 7, No. 4, pp. 569-574.

Bruner, E. M., and Rotter, J. B.

1953. A level-of-aspiration study among the Ramah Navaho. Journ.
Personality, vol. 21, pp. 275-285.

Epmunson, Monro.

. Los Manitos: Patterns of humor in relationtocultural values. Ph.D.
thesis, Harvard Univ., 1952.

Heatu, Dwient B.

. Aleoholin a Navaho community. Distinction thesis, Harvard Univ.
Social Relations Library, 1952.

No.7) 0” «9 THE RAMAH NAVAHO—KLUCKHOHN 375

Hii, W. W.

1940. Navaho salt gathering. Univ. New Mexico Bull. No. 3, pp. 5-25.

1943. Navaho humor. General Ser. Anthrop. No. 9. Menasha, Wis.

1948. Navaho trading and trading ritual: A study of cultural dynamics.
Southwest. Journ. Anthrop., vol. 4, pp. 371-396.

Hopson, RicHArpD.

1954. Navaho acquisitive values. Peabody Mus. Archaeol. and Ethnol.,
Harvard Univ., Pap. vol. 42, No. 3.

HuaueEs, CHARLES C.

. The Navaho woman and Nazarene Christianity: A study of a
Christian proselytizing problem in a Navaho community. M.S.
Honors thesis, Harvard College, 1951.

Jerrreys, M. D. W.

1953. Twin births among Africans. South African Journ. Sci., vol. 50, pp.
89-92.

Kapuan, Brrr.

1954. A study of Rorschach responses in four cultures. Peabody Mus.
Archaeol. and Ethnol., Harvard Univ., Pap. vol. 42, No. 2.
KLuckHOHN, CLYDE.
1944. Navaho witchcraft. Peabody Mus. Archaeol. and Ethnol., Harvard
Univ., Pap. vol. 22, No. 2.
1955. Sexual behavior in cross-cultural perspective. Jn ‘Sexual behavior in
American society,” ed. by J. Himmelhoch and S. Fava, pp. 332-346.
1956 a. Aspects of the demographic history of a small population. In
“Estudios Anthropologicos,”’ ed. by Juan Comas. Mexico City.
1956 b. Navaho value terms in their behavioral context. Language, vol. 32,
pp. 140-146.

KLucKHOHN, CLYDE, and GRIFFITH, CHARLES.

1950. Population genetics and social anthropology. Cold Spring Harbor
Symposia on Quantitative Biology, No. 15, pp. 401-408.

KuuckHoan, Criypz, and Romney, A. K.

1964. The Rimrock Navaho. In “Variations in value orientations,” by
Florence R. Kluckhohn and Fred Strodtbeck, pp. 318-339.
Evanston, IIl.

KiuckHoan, Crypsg, and Voer, Evon Z.

1955. The Son of Many Beads, 1866-1954. Amer. Anthrop., n.s., vol. 57,
No. 5, pp. 1036-1037.
KuuckHoHN, CLypE, and Wyman, LELAND C.
1940. An introduction to Navaho chant practice, with an account of the
behaviors observed in four chants. Amer, Anthrop. Assoc. Mem.
No. 53.
KuuckHonn, CiypEe; Hitt, W. W.; Kiucknoun, Lucy W.; Er AL.
1965. Navaho material culture. Harvard University Press.

Lapp, JoHN.

1956. The structure of a moral code: A philosophical analysis of ethical
discourse applied to the ethics of the Navaho Indians. Cambridge,
Mass.

LANpDGRAF, JOHN L.

1954. Land-use in the Ramah area of New Mexico. Peabody Mus. Archaeol.
and Ethnol., Harvard Univ., Pap. vol. 42, No. 1.

376 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Buy. 196

LEIGHTON, ALEXANDER H., and Lrericuton, DorortuHeEa C.
1948. Gregorio, The Hand-Trembler. A psychobiological study of a Navaho
Indian. Peabody Mus. Archaeol. and Ethnol., Harvard Univ.,
Pap. vol. 40, No. 1.
Le1cHTon, DorotHeEa C., and KuuckHouN, CiypeE.
1947. Children of the people; the Navaho individual and his development.
Cambridge, Mass.
McA.uesteER, Davin P.
1954. Enemy Way music: A study of social and esthetic values as seen in
Navaho music. Peabody Mus. Archaeol. and Ethnol., Harvard
Univ., Pap. vol. 41, No. 3.
O’DonneEtt, Mary P.
. Ethnozoology of the Ramah Navaho. Distinction thesis, Harvard
Univ. Peabody Museum Library, 1950.
Rapoport, RoBERT.
1954. Changing Navaho religious values: A study of Christian missions to the
Rimrock Navahos. Peabody Mus. Archaeol. and Ethnol., Harvard
Univ., Pap. vol. 40, No. 2.
Roserts, JOHN M.
1954. Three Navaho households. Peabody Mus. Archaeol. and Ethnol.,
Harvard Univ., Pap. vol. 40, No. 3.
1957. Four southwestern men. Lincoln, Nebr.
SpeNncEeR, KATHERINE.
1957. Mythology and values: An analysis of Navaho Chantway myths.
Amer. Folklore Soc. Mem. No. 48.
SpuHter, JAMES N., and KiucKHOHN, CLYDE.
1953. Inbreeding coefficients in the Ramah Navaho population. Human
Biol., vol. 25, pp. 295-317.
STRODTBECK, FRED.
1951. Husband-wife interaction over revealed differences. Amer. Soc. Rev.,
vol. 16, pp. 468-4783.
TELLING, IRVING.
. New Mexican frontiers: A social history of the Galluparea, 1881-1901.
Ph.D. thesis, Harvard Univ., 1952.
1953. Ramah, New Mexico, 1876-1900: An historical episode with some
value analysis. Utah Hist. Quart., pp. 117-136.
TscHOPIK, HARRY.
1938. Taboo as a possible factor involved in the obsolescence of Navaho
pottery and basketry. Amer. Anthrop., n.s., vol. 40, pp. 257-262.
1941. Navaho pottery making. Peabody Mus. Archaeol. and KEthnol.,
Harvard Univ., Pap. vol. 17, No. 1.
UNDERHILL, RutH M.
1956. The Navahos. Norman, Okla.
U.S. DEPARTMENT OF THE INTERIOR.
1919. Annual report of the Department of the Interior. Vol. 2.
VESTAL, Paut A.
1952. Ethnobotany of the Ramah Navaho. Peabody Mus. Archaeol. and
Ethnol., Harvard Univ., Pap. vol. 40, No. 4.
Voct, Evon Z.
1951. Navaho veterans: A study of changing values. Peabody Mus.
Archaeol. and Ethnol., Harvard Univ., Pap. vol. 41, No. 1.

A OP. PAP.
ee THE RAMAH NAVAHO—KLUCKHOHN 377

Wrmay, L. C., and Harris, S. K.
1941. Navaho Indian medical ethnobotany. Univ. New Mexico Bull.
Anthrop. Ser., vol. 3, No. 5.
Wyman, L. C., and KiuckHoun, CiypE.
1938. Navaho classification of their song ceremonials. Amer. Anthrop.
Assoc. Mem. No. 50.
Wyman, L. C.; Hitz, W. W.; and Osanat, Iva.
1942, Navaho eschatology. Univ. New Mexico Bull., Anthrop. Ser., vol. 4,
No. 1.
Youna, Rosrrr W.
1949. The Ramah Navahos. Dept. Interior, U.S. Indian Service, Navaho
Hist. Ser. No. 1. Washington.

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SMITHSONIAN INSTITUTION
Bureau of American Ethnology
Bulletin 196

Anthropological Papers, No. 80

EASTERN CHEROKEE FOLKTALES:
RECONSTRUCTED FROM THE FIELD NOTES OF
FRANS M. OLBRECHTS

By Jack FREDERICK Kitparrick and ANNA Gritts KILPATRICK

379

CONTENTS

PAGB

Iutroduction=<<=<:2ses2222n22useeske Leee ieee eee Pann two ant 385
@osmoonic myths > jee en a2 et keno UE LO nimes oT 386
i. ‘The: obtaining -of fireso.- ==. =. - =: ss222=222-CUEReds moe Doron 386

2... Lhe Bire-WOman: 2-5 ==2==2.222==++25-.>-2=s RNA Deel oth 387

a., tneorigin of-death= ==). =2=2==-=>=.22-.> > eT NOs Bo 388

4.. The couneil for apportionment... == _.-.....=2. 21 seeped _odl 389

5.. Ghana: dt punishes his ‘sons.= ===. -.-=-2--..1200 Silene SAT 389

6. The sons of Ghana: di and the Little Person___.________________ 390

@., Dheorigin-Of- corms sss s=s255.252222eesceschu ee A ee 391

8. Thunder kills. an Ugh(a)dhe:n(a)-2:211 290" & teen eicode sojaud A 391

9. Thunder's brother-in-law --:-==-<<==22. 22200) 8 _eneing sormiie ah 392

10: “Vise ryin= a2 ss He ee scds sees es pos ne eine add 393
iT.-Notes on Stoneclads.~= +2222. 22222. 9H/2hG Wh De wed ed 397
12.-The-origin. of the Pleiades: 2+ 2-=2:=222 23254 De tese: et hams Jos 398
Ps) HY PhSe= oe ae te ose ee PASE UO Gis Die aes ab eR AE 398
1. The Possum and the Terrapin are tried for killing the Wolf_______ 398

2. How the’ Bear lost his*tails $22 U2. Ceitiow © wanes bovauiul) ont 400

3.. How the Groundhog lost: his tail-220™ <2 2812S ee hee 401

4. The contest of the deer for sexual differentiation_____.__________ 401
AVIAn, Miytisl. == oes ser esse enes a ee A et ee SRO Bus 401
1. The bird that was ashamed of his feet___...._.._._....._-_____ 401

2. The birds'selecta*chief=*2222--=s22:-2s222-2 220088 BaUeD on) 402

3. The man and the Pishinghawk== =2=:2272 205.2) Seiya 80s 403

4. The Crane ‘leads the’ dance = === -< <24---=-~2<<- <0 Fae 403
Adventures of the trickster Habits 2-2 ios e es eee ee 404
1. The “Rabbit dupes the Boxs-- 2. S222. 8.2 ee ee ee 404

2. the Rabbit dupes-the Wildcatzo.222222 20 9 OO Ces 0 See 90 405

3. The-Rabbit dupes-the Otters: 222.225-22-2+5-2-55 8002s tae 405

4. Fhe-Rabbit dupes.the Possum......2...2iow_ ee pai a) Bile! 406

5.0 the- Rabbit dupes.the Wolf_....-7ad tees 32% 2 ool quien ot Hit 3 407

6. The Rabbit and the Terrapin dupe the Wolf___________________ 408

qd. Lhe Deer dupes the Rabbit. ...2 22. 2c ase te ot oot ee be 409

8S; The Rabbit eoes duck hunting... 2 ee ee 410

on bne Rabbit destroysistonedad = <a ts A ae ee ee 410

10. The Rabbit steals the mask of the son of U: ghv_______._______- 411
SpGRICS Ole PICKKAMGL 320 22 OAS Sa aren ee nine oi eae Aa ek ee 411
i Bleskiller avenres hisemother..-- 2.2. eee eee ee 411

2, nlenkMerplags kick hall=scs so Sarre aes See eames aneen 412

3. The Little People take Fleakiller bear hunting_________________- 413

4. Fleakiller kills’ adhe: ghwsc2o2ssa2 2208) DE) bub gam Sn on” 414
Wonder stories 222 se eo scee ese aa Os BOM! Ont BUY on] 415
iL. Phe -water-dwellers222 sotto PO De Se J eeneve: od) 415

2. The jealous father-in-law _......_.- 22 Js2i2 Juszose sosedabl ees 416

747—014—66——25

382 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 196

Wonder stories—Continued PAGE
3. A woman is killed by a magic arrowhead______________________- 417
4.\'The huntervand the three dogs... =. 22 ee ee ee 418
5, ‘Fhe boy and: the maneating woman... 2.2.20. 5-3 en eae 420
6; -Lbe man wholpecame;a bear. 52-52. a eee 422

Stories of animal. bird, and insect mates... 2... 422
1. The man who married ‘an elk ZN PiU Cy)... ee 422
2. The man who married a beaver... ... 2. 2.52556 4 ee 424
Bs haeCOWe DUIS DANG <= fo oka ke ee ee 425
4, The sapsueker husband: =... 22 222... eee 426
OS. Lhe red worm husband... 20... 2.22... 82s =e atelat ta eee 426
6. The insect Husband 2. ooo a eee ee 427

‘Belles of hunting and fishing. 2-2-2. ah eee 427
1, ‘Phe headless bear. 22.222 3. bere gtiteseee ae? Go eee 427

‘The indestructible bears 225 = 2 oh eee Pee te ee 427
3. Dhetat pear... 22 | 22 aoe! 21sth bt 544-bes Shs eae ttt 8 oy ee 428
AU PAGTIGCION Cay DUC Kee ee tie ak eh ks aa es rn la 428
5. A hunter shoots over a mountain — 40222252. -).)5-s. 8 d-eteu-28 428
G.. An angler catches a turkey = 2-22) =p eh abe tear aso 429
a. Lhe hunter. and the waterdogs.. .- ..-- =... 22.2 4 429
8. “The hunter andthe panther...» 22... Sel ee oe 429

ikepends of the Ant: gh(s)sqt War. —.--2_. =~ eh niet 2 te ot he ee 430
1. The Ant: gh(i)sgi and the four magicians______.__.___--_.--n~-. 430
2. A magician spies on the Ani:gh(i)sgi_---_---_----------------- 431
3. The Cherokees avenge a woman killed by the Ani: gh(1)sgi__----- 431
4. An A> gh(s)eot is killed by a bone_.#.24 222-55 2) eee 2 ee a 432
5. A magician defies thejAni: gh{degte .=o- os aate 2-Ly besee ee 432
G. Ehe battle‘of Wa'dho-o: Mound... 2s 2 ee 434

LO) DIENT 11s |e a ee ee nee Oe Sys OPS or By Cee iene MEM Cm ete arr ceats 435
in meewdaneme phosts 222! ee ee ae 435
2. The Ugh(a)dhesn(a) bridge: ..- 2. 2 ot oe 436
SCL I OEY AE 1, Sa ee oe ae ne REY SS Tee See Seeeeteset 436
A. ihe short of Drsosledh(e)dt it. 22. oe ogee Se ee 436
5. The Little People and the giant yellow jackets___.______-_------- 437
6. The nest of the Sa:nuwa..___._.. .- 4 ee 437

Munpeliincousdegends. 2. 8 eet a ee St 438
1. Avehild is eaten by wolves... .... .arzeen! aeons Gite a4 438
2. A child is eaten by a tame panther._._._242 21 o2}_eupes Juiie8_ se 438
3.. Fhe woman. and the wolves.2' eguh_aigersys od jute Shider ae5 439
4. A map-is-killed by~ turkeys 2222222222200 82. SEs a Foe 439
b. Avskunk cures. man of smallpox. 730) 22 AN Se eee 439
6. The prophecy concerning White men-_-_____-_------------------- 440

Isr CRAM GOI SUNTIOS = 2 nent ee a a ee ee 441
i. The metamorphoses of the lazy man. ~~ on ee 441
DS AGSROMITGME MALEEO OL) 2.02. os ee 441
3... A lesson from nature (2) nt eet eet at ote ee eee ae 441
4. The White man and the Indian... 2. -..4.05.3'. 2 ttt sat ee 442
5. The Whites, the Indians, and the Negroes___.------------------ 442
6: The revenge.of the old men.........------ >. -- seelew Sec oe 443
4. Seven_Irishmen go gold digging._...______.sea!-ebgediel eeciest 28 443
8. Gan end Weans: ee i ee ee eee 444

. PAP.
mae EASTERN CHEROKEE FOLKTALES—KILPATRICK 383

PAGE
PENRO PEAD RIG ROLES... 2 28 7 7h) eee ae Sat a Ue ek 444
if eee COnVOCAiNON.OF Chigiag sae ae rk Soe 444
2. The origin of the name of the dance house______________________ 445
ile URE CROUUCUE o-oo Se eet eee ee ee Se eM ye 446
ILLUSTRATIONS
TEXT FIGURES

9. Sketch by Olbrechts illustrating manner of holding arrow at beginning
C0) 6 542 1 CI oS aL aig Eee Gat SS Oe RS ap Qe En es |) Aw 394
1G. BID DIsOn at EO WEP EOS: St Renter) Akers ats Bee peat: ee ee ew 395
Bey WE OBO ty GIERCOIEe)- open oe ook ae see oe es cae ee 396
ize Me touven GOUbIG GEO. cS semen 2 i eo 396
13, Manner of holding beads for divining... 5 os 433

14, Method of constructing dance house_____________________________- 445

> ren betel... BIRUDIS TKaT al: - e-ce

4,“ . ke : in ~ 2 te ae
6. solngiaed ale ’ a ¢ es or & 2 . ) ee ayy: Dd as

MNS. Tyee tent eeesenisc sages
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EASTERN CHEROKEE FOLKTALES:
RECONSTRUCTED FROM THE FIELD NOTES OF
FRANS M. OLBRECHTS

By Jack Freperick Kiupatricx and Anna Gritts KILPATRICK

INTRODUCTION

The Frans M. Olbrechts collection of North Carolina Cherokee
myths, legends, and miscellaneous stories and ethnographic data is not
a collection in the generally accepted sense of that term, but rather a
body of stenographic notes made at Big Cove on the Eastern Cherokee
Reservation during a series of seven sessions with informants Will
West Long and his half brother, Morgan Calhoun, on January 24 and
February 1-3, 7-9, 1927. These notes are contained in eight small,
lined notebooks plus five loose sheets.

Olbrechts’ sprawling calligraphy evidences the haste with which
he wrote. While almost every word of it is legible, unfortunately
much of what he jotted down cannot be assembled into cohesive
narratives. Groups of more or less complete sentences may be
interspersed with assemblages that consist only of key words or
phrases and mnemonic symbols across which one who has no famili-
arity with the tales cannot bridge the story lines. For this reason
several stories that apparently never before had been collected could
not be reconstructed.

Olbrechts’ notes are in English, with an occasional Flemish phrase
or paragraph or a Cherokee word. The Cherokee terms embedded in
the stories and marginal linguistic notes are written in Olbrechts’
complex phonetic system that presents serious problems in decipher-
ment when handwritten in haste, and peculiar typographical diffi-
culties to the printer. We, therefore, retranslated all Cherokee terms
and set them down in Lounsbury-Kilpatrick, a typographically more
practical system. We collated each story with other collections of
Cherokee folktales and with the major collections of stories from the
Southeastern cultural area.

385

386 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 196

Those myths which could not be found in the published literature
of the Southeast are marked with an asterisk.

It would appear that Olbrechts intended to publish his collection,
for he made rough typescripts of 16 stories. Two of these typescripts
were prepared on August 1, 1931; the others were probably made
during that same year.

As one might expect, the items in the collection are not of uniform
importance. Some of them are better represented in other collections,
and some are of slight intrinsic worth. But certain of the stories—the
Fleakiller Cycle and the legends of the Ani: gh(2)sgi War, for example—
are of primary importance, not only because they appear nowhere in
the published literature, but also because they are choice specimens
of the Cherokee storyteller’s art.

Apparently most of the stories were obtained from Morgan Calhoun,
who died at the age of 64, a few months after his association with
Olbrechts. The affection of the 28-year-old Belgian anthropologist
for the old Cherokee shaman and traditionalist is amply evidenced in
“The Swimmer Manuscript” (Mooney and Olbrechts, 1932, pp.
112-113), wherein Calhoun is referred to as Og.—a code designation
for Ogan(a)sdo:da (‘groundhog, ground up, it’), the informant’s
Cherokee name. One gets some concept of the extent of backward
reach of many of these stories when one considers that Calhoun
learned them from a certain J'si:sghwana:i} (‘birds, going, they’)
who was born about 1836, and who in turn doubtlessly learned them
from individuals born about the time of the founding of the United
States.

The editors gratefully acknowledge that certain aspects of the
investigation necessary to the preparation of this paper were made
possible by a grant from the National Science Foundation.

COSMOGONIC MYTHS
1—THE OBTAINING OF FIRE

Fire was first set in a hollow in the ground on an island. Every
fowl, animal, and human being tried to get it.

First the Eagle flew over the island to try to get it, but he failed,
and was burned to a dark color. The Raven next made a try, but
he was burned so badly that he, too, turned black. The same thing
happened to the Crow; the same thing happened to the Buzzard;
and the same thing happened to the Turkey.

Then some of the animals thought that they might get the fire.

1 Olbrechts writes this proper name Tsi:sghwa Na:i. There is a possibility that his White surname was
Nye, and that his first name was Bird.

No 30) Y= EASTERN CHEROKEE FOLKTALES—KILPATRICK 387

In trying, the Bear was burned until he was black. The Skunk
was partially burned, and became spotted. The Jno:li? also be-
came black.

The last creature that attempted to get the fire was the Spider.
It was doubted that he could get it because he was so small and
light, and because he had no way of getting across the water to the
island.

But the Spider got a dusdi:a, the small clay bowl that we still
call the “Indian pot,’”’ and tied it behind him with spiderweb; then
he walked upon the surface of the water, just as he does today. And
when he arrived where the fire was, he prepared a bunch of spinrags.’
He threw these into the fire, and then pulled the fire toward him in
the bowl.

He brought the fire back. That is how fire was obtained.’

2.—THE FIRE WOMAN#*

In olden times men had to go hunting. Near the trail down which
they passed was a woman—a very, very old woman with white hair—
who sat in the bottom of a hollow tree. Every time a hunter came
back from the hunt she would ask him, “Would you allow me to
lick your meat?” Every hunter allowed her to do this. He would
just cut off a piece of meat and hold it over her head. All the hunters
wondered who this woman was.

One day the last hunter to return from a hunt passed by.

“Hold it above my head,” the old woman said.

As she licked the piece of meat that he had cut for her, it became
as if cooked by fire, and the fat of it trickled down upon her head.
The man wondered if this old woman were Fire.

When he returned home, he told all the people what had happened,
and they decided that the old woman was Fire.

“Flow can we get fire from that hollow tree?’’ they asked themselves.

They sent birds to get it, but it was too hot for them to do it.

The Turkey tried to get it; his head and neck were burned.

The Mole said, ‘I can crawl underneath the ground and get it”;
but when he attempted to do so, he was burned black all over.

A man said, “I can get it. I can urinate on it and extinguish it.
I can burst the tree.” He was Thunder.

2 Black fox.

3 Spun rags?

4 There is little variation here from statements of the myth in Mooney (1900, pp. 240-242), the Wahnenauhi
Manuscript (Kilpatrick, ed., 1965), and the Barber Collection—the latter being in Sequoyah syllabary.

Olbrechts made a note of an alternate ending known to one of his informants: ‘Different story. Spider
did not get it, but Thunders sent bolts of lightning and burst the fire and brought it back in hard pumpkin
shells.”

388 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 196

The lightning flashed and the rain poured down. The Fire was
almost put out, but when the rain stopped, there was still a little of
it left, and this he brought back to the people.®

3.—THE ORIGIN OF DEATH

In the days when the red people were satisfied to use barks and
roots to cure whoever was ill, that is when the medicine was pure.

Tf a person died, he had to go out West (Usv:hi:yi) °; that was the
place for him. Every 3 or 4 years someone might die. Not many
persons died in those days, and there was not much serious illness.

At that time it was the custom to have a Chief. The Thunders
and the Little People were living then, too.

The dead people were living where the magicians lived. Whoever
died was dead for 7 days; then he came back to life. The Little
People had to go get his soul and bring it back.

The first person who died was a girl. Two Little People took a
black box with them, and when they went out West, they found the
girl, When they found her, they asked her if she were willing to go
back with them. She said that she was willing. So they put her
into the coffin which was sealed tightly. There was no air in it,
and there were no cracks in it.

On the way back the Little People rested at the first gap. At
the second gap, as they were again resting, they heard the girl asking
them for a crack through which to breathe. (The Chief had told them
not to pay attention to anything that the girl said. She was a pretty
girl when she died, and old enough to marry.)

While the two Little People were resting at the seventh gap, it
became necessary for one of them to go away for awhile. When he
had left, the other one made a hole in the coffin so that the girl might
breathe. As he did so, he felt a strong wind against his face.

When the two Little People brought the coffin before the Chief,
it was empty.’

This goes to show that if a taboo is broken, we cannot cure someone
who is ill.

§ This variant of the preceding myth to our knowledge is not found anywhere in the literature. It is
possible that the episode of the woman in the hollow tree is but the restoration of a detail that was lost in
other tellings of the obtaining-of-fire myth.

6 ‘Night place,’ the abode of the dead.

7 This is but a detail of ““The Daughter of the Sun’”’ myth found in Mooney (1900, pp. 252-254), but appar-
ently nowhere else.

The going to the West by the Little People in order to bring back the soul of the dead girl is echoed in a
beautiful unpublished curing conjuration of the Oklahoma Cherokees which concludes thus:

edhi:siyvy nudadv:ne:lv nasgi:ya nidadv:ga nv:do
ancient times then he did it to the same now let us (all) do it te (imp.) sun

A . .
ar ala EASTERN CHEROKEE FOLKTALES—KILPATRICK 389

4—THE COUNCIL FOR APPORTIONMENT

All kinds of animals and human beings assembled (the animals
could talk then).

The Frog was opposed to men being made alive again after 7
days of death sleep: “If all of them live, it will be so crowded that
they might step on us and take my [scabs ?].’’ §

The Tsuliyv:dhagv [grubworm=‘which (is) segmented, it’] used
to walk with his legs, but when he heard what the Frog said, he was so
surprised that he fell backward.

Then all assembled said, ‘““He will walk so forever’’—and so he
still does walk.

The Chipmunk (ghi:yu:ga) decided that women, when menstruat-
ing, should be under a taboo for 7 days.

Then all decided that he would have 10 or more stripes.°

5.—GHANA:DI PUNISHES HIS SONS

A man named Ghana:di lived with his wife and two small boys.
Whenever they wanted meat, the father went out with his bow and
arrows and always came back with game—a bear, a deer, a turkey, or
the like.

The boys had a tsits2 1° to play with: this was all that they had
to play with, and when they finished playing with it, it always flew
off and went under a cliff in the distance.

The boys were very interested in feet, in animals’ feet—bears’
feet, turkeys’ feet, and so forth. So when they went to hunt, they
took some feet with them to compare... .

In the open they hid ... wasps, flies, gnats, yellow jackets,
hornets, mosquitoes, fleas, lice. . ..

dighalv:gv tsuna:hnigi:se ani:dawe:? u:tsawi nv: tsawi

rising (pl.), it | which they left (w.p.k.) wizards, they U : tsawi Nv: tsawi
du:nadosy:i nv:do wudeli:gv dunu: gh(i)didi:sv yv:wi
named, they sun over there going down, it going in that direction, they person
uyohusv:hi unina:widv:dhané:i gvno:nunv:nelé:i

she died they carried her with them (w.p.k.) alive, they made her (w.p.k.)

(Let us do as done in ancient times, when those wizards named U: tsawi and Nv: tsawi left the East
and went to the West and carried back with them the dead person whom they restored to life.’’)

This is written down in the Uwe: da : sadh (i) Medicine Book No. 25.

There is a Huron myth that bears several significant points of resemblance to the story above (cf. Tooker,
1964, pp. 143-145).

8 Tf our reading here is correct, the reference may be to the warts of the toad.

» This is an extract, with certain details varying, from the ‘Origin of Disease and Medicine” myth in
Mooney (1900, pp. 250-252).

10 Winter wren (Nannus hiemalis hiemalis).

390 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 196

When their father noticed what they had done, he made a noise
like thunder, and came and helped them brush off from themselves
the flies, gnats, fleas, and lice."

6.—THE SONS OF GHANA:DI AND THE LITTLE PERSON ®*

Ghana:di had forbidden his two sons to go to a certain cliff be-
cause it was dangerous there. They did not obey, however, and went
there.

They found a Little Person, very handsome, sitting in the middle
of a cave there. As soon as the two boys came in, he got up and
said, ‘‘Would one of you two carry me about? Let me sit upon his
back.”

The youngest of the two was willing, and stooped to let the Little
Person sit upon his shoulders. The Little Person got on and said,
“Now! Carry me all about.”

The boy walked all about with him, and the Little Person liked
this very much. But the boy got tired of carrying him about, and
the boys could not get the Little Person to come down. The boy
felt that the back of his neck and the front of the Little Person were
growing together.

The boy thought: “I will climb a tree, and fall down, and act as
if I were dead. Then he will get off.”

He climbed a tree, and fell off it, and pretended to be dead. As
he did not get up again, the Little Person dismounted and said,
“Now, that is a pity that he should be dead! He carried me all
about so nicely, and I liked it so well!”

The Little Person started back toward his cave.

When he had been gone for some time, the boy ‘‘came to life”
again, and with his brother ran for home.

But the Little Person had seen them, and ran after them.

Their father was a great wizard, and knew all that had happened.
He went to meet the boys, and the eldest told him of their trouble.

“That’s what I told you!” their father said. ‘I warned you not
to go to that place.”

And when the Little Person came near, the father cut him all to
pieces, and as there was a pond nearby, he threw the pieces into it.

11 While the lacunae in this story are somewhat damaging, it is clear that what Olbrechts heard but failed
to make sufficient notes upon was a retelling of the releasing of insects by Ghana:di to torment his sons as
a punishment for their permitting the animals to escape from the cave in which he had confined them (cf.
Mooney, 1900, p. 244).

12 Among the Oklahoma Cherokee we have yet to encounter the imputation of malice to a Little Person.
The North Carolina attitude toward Little People is discussed in Witthoft and Hadlock (1946, passim),
the Oklahoma attitude in the Wahnenauhi Manuscript (Kilpatrick, ed., 1966), and Kilpatrick and Kil-
patrick (1964, pp. 79-95).

A x °
No. 80], Pay EASTERN CHEROKEE FOLKTALES—KILPATRICK 39]

Every piece became a frog. That is why we have so many frogs
now.
7—THE ORIGIN OF CORN

The mother of Ghana:di’s sons always provided corn and beans
and everything else that one eats. The boys wanted to find out
where she obtained these things, so they decided to watch her.

When she went into the other room, they peeped through a crack
and saw their mother open her legs. Corn and beans fell out of her
vagina onto the ground.

Then they said, “(Our mother feeds us with something bitter. We
had better kill her.”

The mother noticed how the boys felt, and she knew that she was
going to be killed by her two sons.

She said to them. ‘Before you kill me, clear some land. Drag
me around it. But you must not sleep all that night. If you sleep
before morning, it’ will take a long time to grow.”

Then they killed her and placed her head in the window where
she usually sat watching for the return of Ghana:di. They dragged
her body around the piece of land that they had cleared. That
night the corn began to grow. They could see it grow, and by
morning it had grown so [60 cm.] high.

But they got tired and went to sleep, and when they awoke in
the morning, the corn was barely standing above the ground.

If they had not gone to sleep, corn would grow in one night, but
as they could not keep awake, it now takes 5 months in which to
grow.'*

8.—THUNDER KILLS AN UGH(A) DHE; N(A)®

Once Thunder was fighting an Ugh(a)dhe:n(a). A man saw the
fight. The Ugh(a)dhe:n(a) asked the man for help. Thunder asked
the man to help him.

At first the man wondered whom to help; then he decided to help
Thunder. When the man arrived upon the scene, the fight was over:
Thunder had killed the Ugh(a)dhe:n(a).

13 Corn (se :lu).

14 The corn myth is possibly the most ubiquitous of all Cherokee myths. It isin the Payne Papers and
the Wahnenauhi Manuscript (Kilpatrick, ed., 1966); Mooney recorded it twice (1888, pp. 97-106, and 1900,
pp. 242 ff.); Gilbert collected it but did not publish it (1943, p. 302); and there is an exceptionally fine
Western Cherokee version of it in Kilpatrick and Kilpatrick (1964, pp. 129-134). Four Creek variants
(pp. 9-17), one Koasati (p. 168), and two Natchez-Cherokee (pp. 230-234) are in Swanton (1929).

183 The Cherokee mythical sea dragon, variant spellings of which encountered in manuscripts written
in Sequoyah syllabary are Ugh(i)dhen:n(a) and Ugh(a)dhe:n(i) (Wahnenauhi Manuscript (Kilpatrick, ed.,
1966); Ten Kate, 1889, p. 55; Mooney, 1900, pp. 297-301, 458-461; Swanton, 1929, pp. 245-246; and Kilpatrick
and Kilpatrick, 1964, pp. 41-56).

392 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 196

Thunder said, ‘You will be my vghiwi:na *; you call me edu:tsi "”.”

Thunder commanded his two sisters to bring ‘‘horses,’”’ which were
two huge snakes.

“Get on!’ Thunder said. All got on.

They whooped, and at every whoop, lightning flashed and thunder
sounded.

When we think it thunders, it is but the Thunder People whooping
in the air.’®

9.—THUNDER’S BROTHER-IN-LAW

Many years ago the Cherokees used to have many more dances
than they do now. ‘They had a dance every week.

Once to a dance there came two very attractive girls. Nobody
knew them. When the dance was over, they left. One boy who
was attracted to one of them more than all of the other boys followed
the girls, but he could not overtake them.

The following Friday the girls again came to the dance. Again the
boy followed them, but once more he could not overtake them.

So he went to a medicine man and asked him to prepare some
attraction medicine.

The girls told their mother about the young man following them.
She told them to wait for him the next time he followed them and
to bring him home with them. So after the next dance the girls left,
and the boy followed them, but this time the girls waited for him,
and he went with them.

One of the girls asked, ‘To which one of us two do you want to
talk?”

The one who asked was the one to whom the boy was the more
attracted. She knew that before he told her; that is why she asked.

So they all went together to the girls’ house.

Three or four days afterward there was the sound of thunder.
The girl that was the wife of the boy shouted gladly, “Listen! My
brother is coming!”

Soon afterward the brother of the girl came in; he was Thunder.
He rode a very large snake, and every time it put out its tongue there
was lightning.

The mother said, ‘‘Won’t you take your brother-in-law with you
for a ride?”

16 Vghiwi:na: my sister’s son; my father’s brother’s daughter’s son; my mother’s sister’s daughter’s son;
my mother’s mother’s sister’s daughter’s daughter’s son (Gilbert, 1943, p. 225).

7 Edu:tsi: my mother’s brother; my mother’s mother’s sister’s son; my mother’s mother’s mother’s
sister’s daughter’s son (ibid., p. 224). The terms agidw:tsi and edu:tsi are not dialectal, nor are they inter-
changeable. Both are universally employed: the one in direct reference, the other in indirect.

18 There is a Cherokee version of this myth in Mooney (1900, pp. 300-301) and three other versions of it
in Kilpatrick and Kilpatrick (1964, pp. 50-56). Two Creek tellings of it are to be found in Swanton (1929,
pp. 7-9).

A} . PAP.
No sop EASTERN CHEROKEE FOLKTALES—KILPATRICK 393

Thunder said that he would do that. He said, “Go and saddle
that horse in the stable.”

But it was not a horse; it was another large snake that was brought
out into the yard and put near the other snake.

Thunder said, ‘“Take a necklace out of that box in the corner.”
When the boy raised the lid of the box, he saw that the necklace was
a large rattlesnake.

The boy was afraid. As he stood on the porch, leaning, with his
hand against a post, musing over whether or not to dare to pick up
the rattlesnake, the people about him knew that he was afraid.

All of a sudden everything disappeared, and he stood in a very
wild place, leaning, with his hand against a tree.

He managed to find his way home.

If he had not been afraid, he would be up galy:-la?di,® and a very
oreat magician.”°

10——V TSA-Yi

Visa: yt lived down this river ” alongside the road. I don’t know
exactly where.

There are two versions told of what he used to play: (1) marbles;
(2) in(a)da:sada (‘you and I just put them [long] on top of each
other’).% Vtsa:yi wanted to play everybody who came past his
house. He always won; he was a magician. He had gotten rich by
his gains.

On the other side ™ lived a man that was Thunder. He often
associated with a woman other than his wife, just as a human being
does, and he had had a son by another woman without his wife
knowing about it.

When he became grown, this boy had spots and sores all over his
body. His mother told him: ‘‘Go to where your father lives and tell
him you are his son, and he will cure you. Vétsa:yi will ask you to
play with him, but don’t listen to him. Tell him, ‘When I come back.’ ”’

19 Above, i.e., in heaven.

30 There is an excellent telling of this myth in Mooney (1900, pp. 345-346), and Gilbert (1943, p. 302) states
that he collected a version of ‘“‘Thunder’s Brother-in-Law.”

21 Mooney (1900, p. 544) is no doubt correct in stating that this word is “based upon the resemblance of
the sound to that produced by striking a sheet of metal.” It is usually translated as ‘brass’; but it is also
the word for ‘“‘copper’’ which, surely, was its aboriginal value.

22 Probably the Oconaluftee.

23 Morgan Calhoun.

24 In Oklahoma, where the game is seemingly extinct, it is usually referred to as in(a) da;dhlada. Olbrechts’
note reads: ‘‘They put a heap of brushwood (small tree branches with leaves still on) about 1.50 diameter
and same height. Each player has a number of (usual) arrows. The one who plays first holds arrow
with point toward him [fig. 9], and tipping it over [fig. 10] makes it land on top of brushwood; the other
party has to try to make his arrow land in such a way that it touches arrows of opponent [fig. 11]. Ifso,
he wins, and takes arrow from opponent. If he manages to slip his arrow between reed and feathers of
opponent’s arrow [fig. 12], he wins two arrows. The game was revived last spring [1926].’’

23 Of the river?

394 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 196

Shae

Fiaure 9.—Sketch by Olbrechts illustrating manner of holding arrow at beginning
of game.

When the boy came past Vésa-:y2’s house, the latter asked him to
gamble, but the boy said that he had nothing to wager. Then
Visa:yi said, ‘‘Let us play for your spots. If I lose, I will have them.”
He said this to make fun of the boy; but the boy continued on his way.

When he arrived at where his father lived, his father was absent.
He told his stepmother that he was his father’s son, and that his
mother had sent him to be cured of his spots.

When Thunder came home, his wife told him what the boy had said,
and she said, ‘I did not know that you had been to urinate out the
other way.”

Thunder said that he would soon find out if the boy were his son.

Next morning he went out to get the medicine with which to doctor
the boy, and when he had gathered it all, he put it into an Indian pot
to boil, and when it was all boiled, he took his son up by the hand and
let him fall into the pot. Then he took the pot and threw it into the
river. The pot burst all to pieces, and lightning came from it and
struck a sycamore tree on the opposite bank of the river.

Then Thunder saw that the boy truly was his son, and he took the
boy home with him.

AaTBO) S|) «EASTERN CHEROKEE FOLKTALES—KILPATRICK 395

E™N

~
, A

(

e

Fiaurse 10.—Sketch by Olbrechts illustrating tipping of arrow.

When they arrived at Thunder’s home, Thunder wanted another
proof of the boy’s paternity. There were seven locust trees standing
there. Thunder said, ‘‘Let us see what you can do.”

The boy struck a tree; it was splintered. He struck another one,
and then another, until his father told him to stop.

The boy told his father that Vtsa:yi had wanted him to gamble.
So Thunder got a gourd ** and put beads in it—so many that all of
them could never be taken out. Then Thunder commanded the
Katydid to make arrows. In making them the Katydid used his tail
(which is like a knife, but turned upside down) as a knife.

Then the boy went back to where Vtsa:yi was and told him that he
had come back to gamble.

The boy said that Vtsa:yi must throw first. Vésa:yi did so, but
as soon as his arrow hit the brushwood, it burst all to pieces. Vétsa-:yr

2% The significance of this gourd is obscure. Olbrechts’ notes make no further reference to it.

396 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 196

Figure 11.—Method of scoring, as illustrated by Olbrechts.

Fieure 12.—Sketch by Olbrechts illustrating method of double scoring.

took a second arrow; this also burst. The same thing happened
again and again until all of Visa: yi’s arrows had burst.

Then the boy said, “I have brought some arrows. Take one of
them.”

Visa:yi took one of them and threw. The arrow did not burst.

The boy threw and won.

Every time they played, the boy won, until Vésa:yi had no posses-
sions left to wager. He then wagered a finger joint, then two finger
joints, then a whole finger, then two fingers; then he wagered a hand,
then an arm as far as the elbow, then a whole arm. He always lost.
Then he wagered a toe, then a foot, and so on, until he lost his whole
body. He wagered his wife, but again he lost; he wagered his life,
but this he also lost.

Vtsa:yt then told the boy, ‘‘Well, you can kill me, but first I must
go behind the house. I will come back right away.”

He went, but he did not come back. The boy looked for him be-
hind the house, but there was only a very old woman there, making an
Indian pot.

A SAP:
ANeRGE PA EASTERN CHEROKEE FOLKTALES—KILPATRICK 397

The boy went back to his father, who sent the 7:gh(v)tschinvda-
gwalé:ga (‘it rolls excrement’)” with him to look for Visa:yi. The
beetle flew against the forehead of the old woman, and it rang out:
“Tsayes “V?

The lightning struck, but it missed the old woman, and she escaped.

Vtsa:yi changed himself into all sorts of objects and animals as he
fled toward the west, but every time he transformed himself, the beetle
unmasked him, and lightning struck at him. Yet upon each occasion
Visa: yi escaped, and there was but a hole in the ground where light-
ning had struck.”8

Finally Vtsa:yi was caught, and put into the great water. A grape-
vine grew from his navel and sent out its tendrils onto a tree that grew
on the bank of the ocean.

Visa: yi called upon beavers to cut the vine. They came, and began
to gnaw at it; but the vine shook, and crows came and frightened the
beavers away.

And so Vétsa:yi remains until now. Agi:se:gwa (‘large female
[animal]’)”® is the name given to Vtsa:yi as he lies there.*°

11—NOTES ON STONECLAD

One of his hands was sharp, and made of stone.

He transformed himself into different shapes. Sometimes he was
an old woman, a grandmother.

He had to go through seven gaps. The people got seven women
who were menstruating, had them strip off their clothes, and with
their legs wide open, lie at the seventh gap.

When Stoneclad came by, he said, “My! What pretty girls all of
you are!”’

He was pleased to see them; but he began to spit blood unceasingly.

He told the people to make a fire of 7:déha * in order to burn him.

He sang the songs for them.

He told them that after he was burned, they were to pick up the
fragments of stone remaining, and that if they did this, they would
never forget the songs that he had taught them.

27 Tumblebug. Olbrechts’ note: ‘This beetle has greenish scales and comes out about June. Onits head
it has a spot like brass. That is where he struck Brass.”

28 Olbrechts’ note: ‘‘Morgan’s grandmother, when she came back from out West had seen the holes where
lightning had struck.”

20 A colloquialism for a male who is afraid to enter an athletic contest or who repudiates a debt incurred
in gambling.

80 There is a lengthy example of this story in Mooney (1900, pp. 311-315), and Gilbert (1943, p. 302) states
that he collected a version of it. The Koasati myth called “Thunder and Laigatonohona” in Swanton
(1929, p. 184) has many points of similarity to it.

31 Basswood, or limetree (Tilia americana L.)

747—014— 66

26

398 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 196

Whoever picked up some of the fragments was to mention that at
which he wished to be successful.*?

12.—THE ORIGIN OF THE PLEIADES

There were seven boys who played inside the ga:dhi * all day long.
They had a drum, and they danced the Eagle Dance.

One day while they were dancing, they noticed that they were
rising up into the air.

Near the Seven Stars is an eighth one, a very small one. ‘This,
they say, is the drum that the seven boys used.*#

ANIMAL MYTHS

1—THE POSSUM AND THE TERRAPIN ARE TRIED FOR KILLING
THE WOLF

The possum is a poor animal. It is not very quick, and you can
kill it easily. If you hit it with a stick, it will die. And it is tricky,
too; if you throw it down on the ground, it will keep still as dead, but
when you are not watching, it will jump up and run away.

The possum was a great magician, and always carried a flint in his
pocket. (He has a pocket on his breast in which he carries his
young.)

Terrapins are food for a wolf, and wolves are always trying to
catch them.

Once the Wolf caught the Terrapin and was getting ready to kill
him and to eat him. The Terrapin said, ‘‘Are you hungry?”

“Yes,” the Wolf answered.

“Well,”’ said the Terrapin, ‘if you will spare me, I will be glad.
You see, I have a friend, and he has some persimmons for me to eat.
I was just going over there where he is. If you wish, you can come,
too, and you can have some persimmons. My friend can climb the
tree and throw the persimmons down, and we can eat them as he
throws them down.”

The Terrapin’s friend was the Possum; the Terrapin and the Possum
were great friends. They had had a talk, and had agreed to help
each other if one of them were caught by an enemy.

32 The story of the petrous giant who was destroyed by the magical influence deriving from menstrual
women is one of the most widely reported of Cherokee myths. The account in Mooney (1900, pp. 319-320)
is seemingly the most reliable version of the myth; other narrations are in: Ten Kate (1889, pp. 54-55);
Terrell (1892, pp. 125-126); Howard (1959, pp. 134-138); and Kilpatrick and Kilpatrick (1964, pp. 59-61).
Gilbert (1943, p. 302) also collected the myth. Olbrechts adds little, if anything, to the foregoing accounts.

*3 One of the several commonly used forms of the designation for a townhouse, or dance house.

34 This is but a synoptic version of the myth told in Mooney (1900, pp. 258-259). It resembles a Koasati
myth in Swanton (1929, p. 166).

ANTHROP. PAP.
No. 80] EASTERN CHEROKEE FOLKTALES—KILPATRICK 399

As the Possum was getting ready to throw the persimmons down,
the Terrapin said, ‘‘We’ll see who gets them first. The one who is
quicker will get the fruit.”

Three times the Possum threw persimmons down, and the Wolf
got them every time. The Wolf said, “Well! I didn’t know these
persimmons were so good to eat!”

The fourth time that the Possum threw something down, he threw
the piece of flint that he carried about with him. The Wolf rushed
up, thinking it was a persimmon, and swallowed it. It stuck in his
throat, and he could not get his breath. That’s how he died.

The Terrapin and the Possum were very pleased. The Possum
climbed down from the tree. But before leaving, the two friends
said, ‘“‘Let’s make dippers out of his ears to eat beans with.” So
they cut the Wolf’s ears off and went on.

When they came to where some people were living, the people
were just getting ready to eat. They said, ‘(Come in!’ and when
the Possum and the Terrapin came into the house, the people said,
“Sit down!”

The head of the family got up to get each of the animals a spoon,
but they said, ‘‘We don’t want spoons. We have our own spoons.”
So each took out his Wolf’s ear and began to dip beans with it.

When the people saw this, they said, ‘‘Why, those are the Wolf’s
ears! They must have killed the Wolf!”

At that time it was against the law for animals to kill each other,
so the people in the settlement assembled and decided that the
Possum and the Terrapin were to be punished. They were arrested
and brought to trial.

At the trial the Possum did not say a thing in his defense. He
was quite willing to die, he said. But he had a trick—that’s why he
didn’t care.

“Now! How are we going to kill this Terrapin?” the people said.
Then they reached a decision: ‘‘We’ll put him in the fire,” they said.

“T don’t care,’ the Terrapin said. ‘The fire won’t harm me.
T’ll urinate on it and put it out!”

Then the people said, ‘‘We’ll throw him down from a steep hill.
That will kill him.”

“T wouldn’t mind that,” said the Terrapin. ‘‘My shell will save
me. I often jump off steep hills.”

Then the people said, ‘‘We’ll boil him in a pot, in water just as
hot as we can get it to boil.”

“T’ll kick the pot to pieces,” said the Terrapin.

Then the people said, ‘‘We’ll throw him in the deepest hole of
water that we can find. He will go to the bottom and certainly die.”

400 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULD. 196

When the Terrapin heard them say that, he began to cry, and his
eyes became red. (They are still red to this day.) He said, “I'll
surely die if you do that.”

Then the people were pleased that they had found some way to
kill him.

They threw him into the water, and down went the Terrapin,
right to the bottom; and the people started back home, very pleased.
But suddenly they heard someone whoop, and they saw the Terrapin
upon the other side of the river.

The Possum they hit with a stick, and he fell down as if he were
dead, but as soon as they quit watching him, he got up and ran away.

So he still does today.*

2—HOW THE BEAR LOST HIS TAIL*

The Bear used to have a bushy tail, just like the one the Fox has
now. All the other animals were very jealous of the Bear.

Once, in winter, he met the Fox carrying a lot of fish. The Bear
asked the Fox where he got them.

“T caught them,” the Fox said.

“Where did you catch them?” the Bear asked.

“Come on! I’ll show you.”

So they went to where the water was frozen. The Fox cut a hole
in the ice. “Now,” he said, “put your tail into the hole, and you
will catch just as many fish as you want.”

The Bear did as the Fox told him. The Fox said, ‘Now sit still,
and don’t mind it if it hurts a bit, because the fish will come and bite
your tail.”

When the Bear’s tail was frozen tight into the ice, the Fox said,
“Now see how many fish you have.”’

But the Bear could not pull his tail out.

“Well!” the Fox said. ‘You must have many fish. You can’t
pull them out. Wait until I get somebody to help you.”

Then the Fox ran swiftly past a house where there were two fero-
cious dogs, and as soon as they saw the Fox, they started in pursuit.
The people shouted, and followed the dogs with their guns. The
Fox ran back in the direction where the Bear was, and as soon as he
had put the dogs on the Bear’s track, he ran off.

The Bear could not get away; so he pulled and pulled until he
got loose. But his tail was left sticking in the ice.

85 Mooney (1900, pp. 278-279) recorded this myth, but the above version is far superior to it; in fact, it is

a superb example of Cherokee storytelling, one of the finest extant. The full flavor of the original language
is happily preserved.

None) T{? «= EASTERN CHEROKEE FOLKTALES—KILPATRICK 401

3.—HOW THE GROUNDHOG LOST HIS TAIL*

The Groundhog used to have a bushy tail.

Once the Wolf caught the Groundhog and was getting ready to

The Groundhog said, “Don’t kill me yet. Before you kill me, let
me sing a pretty song for you, and you can dance to it seven times
around that tree.”

So he began to sing, and the Wolf danced around the tree. As he
was dancing around the tree for the seventh time, the Groundhog
turned a somersault and dived into a hole under the tree.

The Wolf caught him by the tail, which came off, and was left in
the Wolf’s claw. The groundhog has not had a bushy tail since.

4—THE CONTEST OF THE DEER FOR SEXUAL DIFFERENTIATION

Two deer agreed to have a contest. They were to jump across the
river where it was deep and flooded to a flat rock on the other side.

“Tf one of us jumps as far as the other bank, that one will be a
buck,” they said, ‘‘but if one of us falls into the river, that one will
be a doe.”

They jumped at the same time, but only one of them managed to
get across. That one became a buck. The one that had fallen into
the river became a doe.

Up until a few years ago the flat rock upon which the deer landed,
about a mile from Ela, toward Governors Island,** could still be seen.
A deer’s hoofprint in the rock could be plainly seen. The place was
called Ahui Tsula:sgv:. (‘deer, where footprinted, he’). About
37 years ago a highway was built which necessitated blasting
the rock.

AVIAN MYTHS
1—THE BIRD THAT WAS ASHAMED OF HIS FEET*

There is a bird called a no:ghw(t)si °° which is about the size of a
quail and which walks like a quail. It usually stays in lowlands.

The feet of one of these birds grew so long that he became ashamed
of himself and hid in the grass all the time.

The Grasshopper came to see him and said, ‘‘What are you hiding
for?”

“T am ashamed to go out,” said the bird.

“Why?” asked the Grasshopper.

36 In Swain County, N.C., on the Tuckasegee River, adjacent to the part of the Eastern Cherokee Reser-
vation known as the 3200-Acre Tract.

37 Olbrechts forgot to supply a figure here.

38 Meadowlark. No-:ghw(i)si also means ‘star.’

402 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 196

“Because my feet are so long,’”’ answered the bird.

“Well, they will be useful to you one of these days,” said the
Grasshopper.

“How?” asked the bird.

“You just wait. You'll see,’ said the Grasshopper. Then the
Grasshopper told him to quit hiding and to go out in the fields and
sing.

The bird took his advice and went forth and sang. His song was
so beautiful that everyone stopped to listen to it. The next afternoon
he went out and sang again. But he kept thinking to himself, ‘“My
feet are good for nothing.”” He hid in the grass again.

A female bird had laid some eggs in the middle of a wheatfield.
The wheat became ripe, and she heard some men say that they were
going to cut it. She began to cry because she had no way of saving
her eggs.

The Grasshopper came to see her. ‘‘What are you crying for?”
he asked.

“T am crying because the wheat is going to be cut and my eggs
will be destroyed,” she said.

“There is a bird living over there in the grass who is always hiding
because he has big feet,’’ said the Grasshopper. “I am sure that he
can help you out.”

The female bird said, ‘‘I’ll go see him. Maybe he can carry away
the eggs in his claws.”

She went to see him, and he agreed to try and help her. Then he
found that with his long feet he could carry the eggs very easily.
He took them for her to a safe place.

“Now I see what the Grasshopper meant,’ he said.

2.—THE BIRDS SELECT A CHIEF*

All the birds decided to select a Chief and an Assistant Chief.
They considered how they could determine which ones of them to
choose and decided that they would have a contest. The one who
flew highest would be Chief; the one who flew second highest would be
Assistant Chief.

The Tsitsi *® knew that the Eagle was certain to go highest, so he
got under the Eagle’s wing, and as the Tsits? weighed very little, the
Eagle did not notice his presence. All the birds flew off.

Some did not go very high, and when they had gone as high as they
could go, they came down. The Eagle went highest, and when he
had satisfied himself that no other bird had gone higher than he, then

89 Winter wren, see footnote 10, p. 389.

No 30) Y)~)s«XEASTERN CHEROKEE FOLKTALES—KILPATRICK 403

he started to descend. The Sa:nuwa* went second highest, and
was the last bird but one to come down.

When the Eagle was nearly down, the Tsitsi came out from under
the Eagle’s wing without being noticed. When the Eagle had landed,
and all the birds were about to agree that he should be Chief, they
noticed that the Ysitsa was still up in the air, and they concluded that
he must have flown higher than the Eagle.

3.—THE MAN AND THE FISHINGHAWK#

A man was fishing, but he could catch no fish. At the same spot
the Fishinghawk was also fishing—stopping still, flapping his wings
and calling: ‘Tsu! Tsu! Tsu!’? He made this sound to call fish,
and he got just as many fish as he wanted.

Because the Fishinghawk was so successful, and he could catch
nothing, the man became jealous. So he thought an aye:ligo:gi *!
against the Fishinghawk. Then when the Fishinghawk called, the
fish did not come to him. “TZsz! Ts! Tsi!” the Fishinghawk
shouted, and he cried. Then he flew up into the heavens and disap-
peared.

The man laughed at him.

But soon he saw the Fishinghawk descending, with red fish, which
he had caught up above, in his bill. He perched in a tree nearby,
and then he began to catch fish. The man then saw that the Fishing-
hawk was a magician, and he began to cry.

After 7 days the man died.

Because of this, it is believed that the Fishinghawk is a greater
magician than man, and therefore useful in a fishing prayer.”

4.—THE CRANE LEADS THE DANCE*

There lived a woman whose daughter had died. The woman had
loved her daughter very much, and she thought of her all the time and
wept. The woman’s health declined; she would not eat. She looked
so ill that the people thought that she was going to die.

“What can we do for her?” they said. ‘‘We must make her happy,
and make her stop thinking of her daughter.”

They decided that they would have a dance.

40 The great mythic hawk (see “The Nest of the Sa:nuwa” p. 437). is almost certainly not the bird in ref-
erence here. The allusion may be to the sa:nuwa usdi:i (‘sa:nuwa, small’) which Mooney (1900, p. 284)
tentatively identifies as the goshawk.

4. An illness created by sorcery (Mooney and Olbrechts, 1932, pp. 33-34).

“2 Tn contradistinction to what has been reported to be the case in North Carolina, a noteworthy corpus
of pescatory magic still exists in Oklahoma. Western Cherokee fishing-charms frequently importune the
Fishinghawk-spirit (Kilpatrick and Kilpatrick, in press).

404 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 196

So that night they had a dance, and they varied the dancing a
great deal in order to distract her thinking by constant change. She
became happy, but just for a little while.

Toward morning, when they were going to perform the last dance,
they saw that they still had not succeeded in their intentions. The
Crane was standing at the door, watching them (the Crane is a funny
bird, with his thin body and long legs and bill). They called him in to
lead the dance because they knew that he was a very funny dance
leader.

“Yu:! Yu:!’ the Crane called, and the dance began, with the
Crane leading it. The woman looked at the Crane and became very
much interested in him.

When the Crane came to the place in the dance where he was sup-
posed to bow down and say: “Tsiwi:na tsige:sb:1 tsin(2)gadhv:nehé :4
(‘what I did [habitually] when I was a young man’),” he bowed down,
and standing with his hindquarters toward the woman, he defecated.

This made everybody, and especially the sad mother, laugh so much
that she kept thinking of it all the time, and every time she had to eat
again, she thought of it, and in this way she was cured.

ADVENTURES OF THE TRICKSTER RABBIT
1—THE RABBIT DUPES THE FOX*

The Fox was a great fisher. Once, when he had caught a great
many fish, he met the Rabbit. The Rabbit could not fish.

He asked the Fox, ‘‘Would you let me have some fish?”

But the Fox said, ‘‘No!”’

The Rabbit thought: “How can I get them?”

So he walked along with the Fox for some distance, and then left
him. But he ran back by some roundabout way until he came back
to the trail in front of the Fox, and there lay down as dead.

When the Fox passed, he thought: “Well! A dead rabbit!’ But
he did not care because he had so many fish.

As soon as the Fox was gone, the Rabbit got up, and again by
some roundabout way ran to a spot that the Fox was to pass. There
again he lay down, pretending to be dead.

As he passed by, the Fox thought: “Well! Another dead rabbit!”
But since he was carrying so many fish, he did not want to bother with
a rabbit.

When he was gone, the Rabbit jumped up, and once more he ran by
a roundabout way to a place which the Fox was to pass, and as before,
he pretended to be dead.

fat Boy PAP: = EASTERN CHEROKEE FOLKTALES—KILPATRICK 405

When the Fox saw the third ‘‘dead” rabbit lying there, he thought:
“Now! That’s the third rabbit. If I get them all, they would make a
nice rabbit-mash.”’ So he put his fish down, and went to get the two
other rabbits.

While he was away, the Rabbit ran off with the fish.

When the Fox arrived where the ‘‘second”’ rabbit had lain, it was
gone. The “‘first’’ rabbit also was gone.

Then the Fox realized that he had been tricked, but he did not
care because he believed that he could go back where he had left them
and get the “third” rabbit and the fish.

When he arrived at the place where he had expected to find them,
they, too, were gone.

So he had nothing at all.

2.—THE RABBIT DUPES THE WILDCAT*

Upon another occasion the Rabbit was caught by the Wildcat.

The Rabbit said, ‘“Let’s go out and kill a deer instead of me.
I know where the deer feed. They eat moss in the river, and they are
down there in the river right now.”

“Deer?” said the Wildcat. ‘Do you eat deer?”

“Certainly,” said the Rabbit. “TI catch deer all the time.”

The Wildcat believed him. So the two animals went down to the
river where they saw many deer, large and small, feeding on moss.

There was a tree overhanging the water where the deer were feeding.
The Rabbit climbed this tree. There was a deer directly beneath it.
The Rabbit let himself drop upon the deer’s back. The deer shook
off the Rabbit, who fell into the water and let himself drift downstream
with the current. He climbed out of the water on the other side of the
river, and thus got away from the Wildcat.

The Wildcat leaped on a very small deer and had it for his food
instead of the Rabbit.*

3.—THE RABBIT DUPES THE OTTER

Otters eat rabbits.

Once the Otter had caught the Rabbit and wanted to eat him.

“Don’t eat me,’”’ the Rabbit said. ‘We are relatives.”

The Otter was doubtful because the Rabbit looked so different
from himself, but the Rabbit maintained that what he said was true.

‘Are you sure that we are kinsfolk?” asked the Otter.

“Why, yes—quite sure!” the Rabbit said.

43 While we do not find this story in the published literature, its affinity to the tale wherein the Rabbit
transfers the Wildcat’s predatory intentions to a flock of turkeys is obvious (cf. Mooney, 1900, pp. 269-270;
Kilpatrick and Kilpatrick, 1964, pp. 32-35; see also Swanton, 1929, pp. 47-49, 109, 200, 259, and Speck, 1909,
p. 153).

406 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 196

“How can we find out that what you say is true?” asked the Otter.

“T know how,” the Rabbit said. ‘What are your stools like when
you defecate?”

“When I defecate,” said the Otter, “there are shells of crayfish in
my stools.”

Said the Rabbit, “It’s the same with me—shells of crayfish, heaps
of them. Let’s both of us sit down, close our eyes, and defecate.
Then you will see that we are kinsfolk.”

So they both sat down. Closing his eyes, the Otter defecated.
As soon as he had done so, the Rabbit took half of the stool of the
Otter and placed it under himself. Then he told the Otter to open his
eyes. Sure enough, there was the same kind of ordure under both of
them.

‘And yet,”’ the Otter said, “I never knew myself to defecate so little.”

“Nor am I accustomed to defecating so little,’ said the Rabbit.

The Otter was still doubtful, and did not let the Rabbit loose.
They traveled together along the same trail, and when night was
approaching, at the place called Dida:dhlahosgi:yi (‘they [granulated]
which fall upon one-place’), they halted and built a fire.

The Otter went to sleep, but the Rabbit kept awake, and as soon
as the Otter was fast asleep, the Rabbit took a piece of bark, and using
it as a shovel, threw burning coals upon the Otter’s coat. The Otter
was badly burned, and suffered severely.

The Rabbit shouted, ‘‘Run this way to the water!”

The Rabbit ran the other way, but the Otter ran straight into the
water, and he has lived there ever since.

The place where this happened is called Dé:gale:yvst:1 (‘burned
{in several places], one-place’).“

4——THE RABBIT DUPES THE POSSUM

In olden times the animals had a principal chief, and they had a
place of assembly where they often went to discuss their affairs. The
Rabbit heard about one of their meetings, so he went to where the
animals were assembled.

There was an important matter under discussion at the meeting.
The Rabbit listened. (The Rabbit was going to pretend that they
were talking about something else, and thus have some fun. He sat
there listening with his ears pricked up, thinking of the fun he was
going to have.)

44 Olbrechts informs us that a place near Bryson City, in Swain County, is called by this term.
It is probable that this story was originally Muskogean, for one finds in Swanton (1929) the following
versions of it: four Creek (pp. 42-45); two Alabama (pp. 159-161); two Koasati (pp. 205-206, 207-208); and one

Natchez-Cherokee (pp. 259-261). There is a Tasgigi version in Speck (1907, p. 154). The ending of the
story is almost identical with an episode in a Cherokee myth in Mooney (1900, pp. 267-268).

Ao7g0) F Y)~=)s«XEASTERN CHEROKEE FOLKTALES—KILPATRICK 407

Then the Rabbit left, and when he got home, he told the Chief
and the townsfolk that he had come from where the chiefs were as-
sembled, and that they had decreed that his settlement must have a
dance, and that every girl must go to it with a boy and have fun
with him (you know what I mean).

The Chief said, ‘‘Well, if our chiefs have decided that, we must
obey.” So arrangements for a dance were made.

The Rabbit had many girls to go with because he had a good at-
tract-medicine, but the Possum could not get a single girl because girls
were not attracted to him. The next day the Possum went to the
Rabbit and complained because he had not had any success at the
dance. He asked the Rabbit if there was going to be another dance
soon.

“Well, I’ll go hear what the council says,” the Rabbit said, ‘and if
it decides that we must have another dance, why, we’ll have it.”

The Rabbit went again to the place where the chiefs were assembled.
They were discussing some important business.

When the Rabbit returned home, he said, ‘‘This time our chiefs
sald that we have to fight. They want us to fight as hard as we
can.”

The Chief said, ‘‘We must do what the council says to do.”

So arrangements to have a fight were made, and then when the
night for it had come, all fought as hard as they could.

The Possum got hit so hard that he became almost dead (he is a
poor fighter, and soon dies), but when the fight was all over, he came
back to life again.

Now, therefore, when you hit the Possum, he dies immediately,
but comes back to life again soon afterward.*

5.—THE RABBIT DUPES THE WOLF

The Wolf was the best runner of all the animals—and he still is.

One day he met up with the Rabbit and challenged the Rabbit to
arace. The Rabbit said, ‘I don’t know whether I could beat you or
not, but maybe I can find someone to race against you.””’ The Wolf
was very proud because the Rabbit said that, and said that he was
willing to race against anyone that the Rabbit might find.

The Rabbit went to see the Terrapin, and they talked over the
matter. The Rabbit had a trick in mind. The Terrapin said that
he would be willing to do as the Rabbit said.

The Rabbit went out and found six terrapins which were exactly
the same color as the Terrapin. When he had everything ready, he

45 This story is but slightly varied from a presentation in Mooney (1900, p. 273).

408 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 196

announced that there was to be a race over seven gaps between the
Wolf and the Terrapin.

The day set for the race arrived. The Wolf and the Terrapin
started off together. The Wolf started off swiftly, and the Terrapin
crawled along as fast as he could.

As the Wolf was nearing the second gap, someone ahead of him
whooped. When the Wolf looked to see who it was, he saw that it
was the ‘‘Terrapin,” crawling along far ahead. The Wolf was much
surprised. (He thought it was the Terrapin, but it was only one of
the terrapins which had been sent to that place by the Rabbit.)

When the Wolf came to the spot where he thought he had seen the
Terrapin, he did not see anything. The terrapin had hidden among
the leaves.

So the Wolf thought that he had passed the Terrapin, but as he
neared the third gap, again he heard someone whoop. Once more
the Wolf thought that it was the Terrapin, for he did not know that it
was another one of the terrapins, sent there by the Rabbit.

And so again and again.

As the Wolf approached the seventh gap, again he saw the ‘“Terra-
pin” crawling in front of him, and the ‘“Terrapin”’ got to the seventh
gap ahead of the Wolf. The Wolf was very tired, out of breath, and
sweating all over. The “Terrapin” was just as fresh looking as if he
had not hurried at all.

The Terrapin won the race, and everyone made fun of the Wolf
because he had lost the race against the slow Terrapin.”

6.—THE RABBIT AND THE TERRAPIN DUPE THE WOLF*

The Rabbit had a place in the grass where he liked to sit. One
day when he was dozing there, he awoke to discover that the Wolf was
approaching. The Rabbit ran into his hole.

The Wolf dug in the earth, first upon the front side of the burrow
and then upon the back side, and caught the Rabbit.

“You mustn’t kill me,” the Rabbit said.

“Why not?” asked the Wolf.

‘“‘We have a Judge right here,” said the Rabbit. ‘If he decides
that you can kill me, that will be all right—or he may find some other
way of giving you satisfaction.”

They went over to where the Terrapin was sitting. He was the
Judge.

46 The motif of a race between the Terrapin and some speedy animal is ubiquitous in the Southeast.
Swanton (1929) presents these examples of it: five Creek (pp. 63-55); one Hitchiti (pp. 101-102); one Alabama
(pp. 157-158); one Koasati (p. 201); and one Natchez-Cherokee (p. 252). There is also a Tasgigi version in

Speck (1907, p. 155). Mooney (1900, pp. 270-271) records an Eastern Cherokee specimen of it, and Kil-
patrick and Kilpatrick (1964, pp. 17-19) offer three Western Cherokee versions.

No 80) )=)«XEASTERN CHEROKEE FOLKTALES—KILPATRICK 409

The Rabbit said, ‘““The Wolf has caught me, and he is bringing me
here to you for you to decide if it is all right for him to kill me.”

(The Rabbit and the Terrapin were very close friends, and they
lived together. They had agreed if either of them were caught, the
other was to help him. Over the Rabbit’s hole they had propped up
a heavy stone.)

The Terrapin said to the Wolf, ‘‘Where did you catch him?”

“Over there, in his hole,” the Wolf said.

“Well, let’s go over there,” the Terrapin said.

So they all started over to the Rabbit’s burrow, and when they got
there, the Terrapin said, ‘‘How did you catch him? Show me.”

Then the Wolf explained that he had first tried, but had failed, to
get the Rabbit by digging into the front of the hole, and then later
had dug from behind and had found the Rabbit squatting against
the back of his burrow.

“‘Let’s see just how you did it,” said the Terrapin.

So the Wolf dug into the burrow again. The Terrapin and the
Rabbit remained outside. As soon as the Wolf was well into the
hole, the Terrapin and the Rabbit pulled away the props and the
heavy stone fell and buried the Wolf.

That is the way the Wolf was killed.

7.—THE DEER DUPES THE RABBIT

This story is about another kind of Rabbit—a larger one.

He had played many tricks upon the other animals, but it was
against the law to kill him. So the animals assembled and asked
each other, ‘‘How can we get rid of this Rabbit?”

They agreed that they must remove him, so at this meeting of the
animals the Deer said, ‘‘I can make him leave the country; I can put
him in another country.”

All the animals said that they would like that.

So the Deer went to talk to the Rabbit and asked him if he would
like to enter a contest to jump across a small stream. The Rabbit, a
creat jumper, was willing.

The Deer and the Rabbit came to a small stream which the Rabbit
knew that he could jump across with ease. ‘‘You jump first,” said
the Deer.

The Rabbit gave a tremendous leap; the Deer did not jump at all.

When the Rabbit hit the ground, he looked back and saw that he
had jumped across the ocean.*

47 Mooney (1900, p. 277) records this story substantially as it stands here

410 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 196
8.—THE RABBIT GOES DUCK HUNTING

Once the Rabbit was caught by the Otter. The Rabbit wanted to
preserve his life, and he said, ‘‘Don’t kill me because you and I are
the best of friends. I’ll show you something good to eat.”

There were some ducks in the vicinity. “I’ll catch one of those
ducks, and that will show you that you and I are kinsfolk,” the Rabbit
said to the Otter.

The Rabbit got some hickory bark and took it with him as he dived
under the water. He had to surface soon to stick his nose up out of
the water in order to breathe. After doing this a few times, swimming
underwater and then surfacing in order to get his breath, he got near
a duck; then diving underwater one last time, he swam under the
duck, grasped its leg, and quickly tied his hickory bark around it.
When the duck felt this, it flew up into the air, carrying the Rabbit
with it.

While he was being pulled through the air, the Rabbit could hold
onto the hickory bark no longer. He fell into the hollow stump of a
tree. He could not get out of it and get anything to eat. He ate
decayed wood and his own fur, just as rabbits still do, you know, when
they cannot get food.

The Rabbit heard two turkeys talking near the stump. The
turkeys had been his enemies since he had played the trick upon them.
The Rabbit said, ‘Cut a hole in this tree. I am the prettiest girl
that you have ever seen.”

The turkeys cut a hole, but the Rabbit said, ‘“Make it a bit bigger.
I am a pretty good size.”

Then they cut it bigger, and the Rabbit said, ‘“Now stand aside!
I am coming out!”

When the turkeys got out of his way, he suddenly jumped out
through the hole, all naked as he was, and disappeared.*®

9.—THE RABBIT DESTROYS STONECLAD

The Rabbit and Stoneclad (the one who was burnt) met up with
each other. Stoneclad tried to kill the Rabbit, but the Rabbit said,
‘You and I are the best of friends!”

Stoneclad believed him.

“We'll stay together overnight,” the Rabbit said. They built a
fire.

The Rabbit made a hammer of stone.

“Why did you make that hammer?” Stoneclad asked.

43 There exist other Cherokee versions of this story (Mooney, 1900, pp. 266-267; Kilpatrick and Kilpatrick,

1964, pp. 24-25), and Koasati (p. 208) and Natchez (p. 241) accounts in Swanton (1929) bear some slight
resemblance to it.

fo so). )~0«S«*XEASTERN CHEROKEE FOLKTALES—KILPATRICK 411

“T was just playing around,” the Rabbit answered.

Stoneclad went to sleep. The Rabbit watched him, and after
Stoneclad was sleeping soundly, the Rabbit heated a stone, inserted
it in the anus of Stoneclad, and drove it in with a well-placed blow
from the stone hammer. Then the Rabbit ran toward his hole.

Just as he got near it, he heard a loud explosion; Stoneclad had
blown to pieces. A bit of stone hit the Rabbit upon the tail. That
is how his tail was cut off; that is why it is as it is now.*®

10.—THE RABBIT STEALS THE MASK OF THE SON OF U:GHV*

A man—they called him U:ghv—had a son who was very handsome,
and who had a fine mask. Every time he went to a dance, he took
the mask with him, and everybody thought that the mask was his
natural face. There were seven girls that always went with him
when there was a dance.

The Rabbit had watched him closely, and had found out that his
handsome face was not his own, but merely a mask. He knew where
U:ghv’s son had put the mask, and one day he stole it and went to
the dance.

He sat at some distance away, but the girls saw him, and taking
him to be their friend, went and sat with him. They joked with
each other, and asked the Rabbit some questions for fun. But the
Rabbit could not answer them because his language was different
from theirs. Then they watched him closely, and found out that it
was only the Rabbit under the mask. Immediately they began to
chase him, but the Rabbit threw away the mask and escaped.

When U:ghw’s son came to the dance, he could not get the attention
of any of the seven girls anymore.

STORIES OF FLEAKILLER ®

1.—FLEAKILLER AVENGES HIS MOTHER*

There lived a woman who had a son. He was just a small boy.
He was always shooting fleas with his bow and arrows. He must have
been a wizard. On some days he would kill this many [about two
handfuls]. That was all he was good for.

4 Flint is substituted for Stoneclad in versions of this tale found in Mooney (1900, pp. 274-275) and in
Kilpatrick and Kilpatrick (1964, p. 62). In still another version (ibid., pp. 62-64) the Western Cherokee
human trickster figure J'’segh(i)sgi:n(a) (‘Jack-devil’) replaces the Rabbit.

50 While we cannot be certain of the etymology of this proper name, from the relationship of its possessor
to the story line we venture the conjecture that it might bear some affinity to w:ghvha-:div (‘his [or her]
face’), or perhaps u:ghvhadho?di:yi (‘to form a face with, he [or she]’), or ‘mask.’ We have never en-
countered the story elsewhere.

51 To our knowledge, the character Fleakiller does not appear anywhere in the published literature, but
his resemblance to the figure of the Orphan Boy with supernatural powers, a familiar one in Muskogean
mythology, is patent.

412 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 196

One day the mother went to wash clothes in the river. A big
watersnake that was living in the river at that place spouted forth a
great gush of water which washed the woman away. She was never
seen anymore. From then on the people knew that this was a
dangerous place and did not dare to go there anymore.

The boy never thought of his mother; he was but a small child
and never even noticed her absence.

One day, when he was about 5 or 6 years old, he was making a new
bow and some arrows. He used a stone to sharpen his knife, and
with every stroke of the knife upon the stone he heard: ‘Tats,
tsatsi!”’

He inquired of people about this word: ‘“‘Was there any person who
ever lived whom I could call tsatsi?”’

They said: ‘Yes, that word means ‘your mother.’ You used to
have a mother once.”

He asked them what had become of his mother. They told him
all about what had happened to her—how she had once gone to wash
clothes in the river, and how a big watersnake had washed her from
the bank.

When he heard this, he became angry at this reptile and said that
he was going to the place where this had happened.

“You had better not do that,” the people told him. ‘There must
be something dangerous living there. Nobody ever goes there.”

“Well, I am going there anyway,” he said, ‘‘and I am going to kill
that snake.’

They told him not to try to do this because the snake would kill
him; but “I will go anyway,” he said, and he started off.

As soon as he came to the place, he saw the snake lying right in
the middle of the river.

He shot it, and killed it.

2.—FLEAKILLER PLAYS KICK BALL*

This is what they also told me about Fleakiller (it happened when
he had grown up):

He had a sister, and wherever Fleakiller went, he and his sister
were always together.

Once they met one of the Little People, also with his sister. (The
Little People are great wizards.) They challenged Fleakiller and his
sister to a game of kick ball.” They wanted Fleakiller to play
against the Little Person’s sister first. Fleakiller refused, unless she
kicked first.

“No,” she said. ‘You kick first.’

8 An(a)lé:sgalid (‘they apply the foot to it’). It is played by a team of women versus a team of men.

rae EASTERN CHEROKEE FOLKTALES—KILPATRICK 413

“Indeed not! You kick first!” he said.

Finally he told her, ‘‘If I kick first, V’ll win.”

Since she still insisted, Fleakiller kicked. The ball did not fly off,
but the Little Person’s sister went up into the air and fell on the
goalpost which was as sharp at the top as it could be, and her body
was pierced and she was killed.

The Little Person went to the post and took off the body of his sister,
and being a powerful wizard, brought his sister to life again.™

3.—THE LITTLE PEOPLE TAKE FLEAKILLER BEAR HUNTING*

Since the kick ball, the Little People hated Fleakiller. (Every-
body hated him.) The Little People thought: ‘How can we get rid
of him?” So they decided to take him along with them on a bear
hunt. He said, “Yes, I am willing to go with you.” So he went.

The bear lived in a dense laurel thicket in the wilderness. The
little People told Fleakiller to go into the thicket and to stalk the
bear so that they could surround the thicket and kill the bear as it
came out. But they did not want the bear; they wanted Fleakiller
to get lost.

Fleakiller went into the thicket, saw the bear, and killed it. (He
always carried his bow and arrows with him, and also a piece of brown
stone.“) It was a dark day, and there was no sun. He cut the
bear up and prepared the meat to carry it home with him, but when
he started to go, he could not find his way back.

The Little People knew he was lost, and as soon as they returned
home, because they were rid of him forever, they decided that they
would have a feast. They were going to have a dance like the Eagle
Dance.

When Fleakiller saw that he was lost, he took his piece of brown
stone and said a prayer in which he called his stone ‘Brown Dog.”
He then rolled it in the direction of the North, to find out if that was
his way to go home. But the stone came rolling back: the North
was not his way to go back.

He then rolled the stone toward the West, to find out if his home
was in that direction; but again the stone came rolling back: the
West was not his way to go back.

Next he rolled the stone toward the South, to find out if that was
the way he would have to go; but again the stone came back to where
Fleakiller was; the South was not the way.

83 Olbrechts’ note: “The end of this story does not seem to be as it ought to be[.] M.[organ] does not
seem to be very certain and W.[ill West Long] is sleepy. M.{organ] seems to make what is told in this story
the reason for the L.[ittle] People’s hate of Flk. [Fleakiller].’”’ The studied enmity of the Little People
toward an individual is a motif that we do not find in the published literature.

64 A divining pebble (see Mooney, 1891, pp. 386-887). The motif of rolling a chunky disk toward each o
the cardinal directions for the purpose of divination is found in Mooney (1900, p. 246).

747-014—66—_27

414 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 196

Then he took the stone and rolled it in the direction of the Easte
to find out if that was his way. This time the stone did not com,
back.

“That is the direction of my home,” thought Fleakiller.

Then he tried again; he took his bow and shot an arrow toward
the North, but the arrow came back. Next he shot it toward the
West, but again it came back to him. He then shot it toward the
South, but back again it came. But when he shot it toward the
East, the arrow did not return.

This time he was sure that his home was in the direction of the
Kast, and straightway he started out. He got back to the settlement
the very night that the people were having a dance to celebrate his
loss.

The Chief was addressing the Little People, telling them that
they were having this dance because Fleakiller had at last disappeared
forever. Nobody saw Fleakiller as he was standing near the doorway
of the townhouse, listening to all that was being said about him.

Then Fleakiller spoke: ‘Shame on all of you! You wanted me to
go with you on a bearhunt. All of you ran away, but I went and killed
the bear and brought his meat home. Here it is!”

Everybody became quiet and ashamed because he spoke that way.

4. FLEAKILLER KILLS A DHA:GHWV ©*

The Little People hated Fleakiller still more. They thought that
they would again try to get rid of him.

One day they went fishing and asked him to come along. They
took him to a place where there was a dha:ghwo living in a hole in the
river.

They said to Fleakiller, “Get into the water and drive all the
fish toward us. We will wait for the fish in the shallow place, and as
they come swimming along, we will catch them.”

Fleakiller got into the water; but as soon as the dha:ghwv came
at him, instead of running away, he stood still and killed it.

The Little People, as soon as they had seen Fleakiller wade forth
into the river, were sure that he was going to be killed by the terrible
water monster, and they went back to their settlement in good
spirits and made arrangements for a dance to celebrate the final loss
of the hated Fleakiller.

But as the Little People had gathered for the dance, and stood
listening to the Chief, who was explaining why they were to rejoice,
Fleakiller had again come back, and had overheard everything the
Chief said.

55 The term dha:ghwv is applied to the whale as well as to the maneating mythic fish in reference here.
There is a dha:ghwo story in Mooney (1900, pp. 320-321).

No 80], =) EASTERN CHEROKEE FOLKTALES—KILPATRICK 415

Fleakiller spoke sharply to them because they were such cowards
as to leave him after having sent him forth to fight the fearsome
dha:ghwv by himself.

WONDER STORIES
1. THE WATER DWELLERS

There was a sick man who lived alone. He had no relatives.
Since he could not provide his own food, he became very hungry and
weak.

One day two women came to see him and brought him something
to eat. They asked him, “Will you go home with us?”

But the man said that he did not think that he was strong enough
to go. So the women went home and told their father, ‘‘Well, he
says that he isn’t strong enough.”

A second time the women came to see the sick man, and again
they asked him if he would go home with them, and again he answered
that he did not feel strong enough to go.

The same thing happened upon a third visit.

Before the two women left home to see the sick man for the fourth
time, their father said to them, “If he says again that he is too weak,
let him walk between you two. Bring him here, and I will cure him,
and then he can return home.”

When the two women went the fourth time to where the sick man
lived, they brought him food, just as they had upon the other visits.
When they asked him if he would like to go home with them, he thought
to himself: “I am not strong enough.”

But they said that they would help him along the way, and each
took him by an arm and thus supported him. They told him, “It
won’t be very far. Now we are going to assist you.”?’ They walked
together toward the women’s home. He walked between the women.

After they had gone but a little way, they came to the river. The
man became frightened and thought: “It appears that they are going
to drown me.”

But the two women knew what he was thinking, and said, ‘This is
not a river, but a road.” ‘Then they stepped into the river which
they walked on as if they were walking upon a road.

When they came to a deep hole in the water, the women said, ‘‘This
is not a deep hole; it is our house.’’ They also said, “‘Our father will
say to you, ‘Sit down!’ repeatedly. You will see high, soft chairs
this [70 cm.] high, and also stools. Don’t be afraid of them. Just
sit down.”

When they came into the house, the Old Man appeared to be pleased
to see the sick man. He said, “Sit down! Sit down! Sit down!’

416 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 196

The high, soft chairs that were there in the house were not chairs,
but an ugh(a)dhe:n(a), and when the sick man sat down in one, he
could hear the crackle of scales. The stools were mud turtles. All
over the floor were wriggling young snakes. The two women called
them ‘dust,’ and continually kept sweeping them out.

The Old Man doctored the sick man, who soon became well again.
Then the women escorted him back home, but before leaving him,
they said, ‘“‘For 7 days don’t speak about this. If you speak about it
before 7 days have passed, you will die.”

So for 7 days after he returned home, the man did not say any-
thing about his experience, but after that time he told the people
all that had happened to him.*

2.—THE JEALOUS FATHER-IN-LAW*

Since the time when the animals had been scattered all over the
forest from the cave in which Ghana:di had kept them enclosed, men
had to hunt in order to get meat. They hunted with the prayers
that they had learned from Stoneclad.

There was a man who was a very successful hunter; any game that
he wanted, he brought back. He had a daughter. Another man,
who was also a°ghana:diyu™ wanted to marry her.

So he married her, and came to live with the woman and her father.
The young man and his father-in-law always went out hunting
together.

The young man was so successful that the old man became jealous
of him, and decided to remain at home. The old man was a great
magician. He wanted to make his son-in-law unsuccessful. The
old man would send his son-in-law out to get exactly what he, the
old man, wanted—the meat of bear, deer, and the like. The old
man was a magician, and he tried his best to make the young man
unsuccessful.

The son-in-law was a powerful magician, too, and he noticed how
his father-in-law felt; so he always got up early in the morning before
the old man arose.

The old man always used to tell the young man where to go and
what to shoot.

“There is great game at that place over there,’ once he told the
young man. ‘You had better go there. Bring me some meat of
what you shoot there.”

56 The resemblance of this story to ‘‘Thunder’s Brother-in-Law” is patent. It also bears aspects in com-
mon with Cherokee stories in Mooney (1900, pp. 343-345) and to a narrative in Kilpatrick and Kilpatrick
(1964, pp. 84-91), the latter which is surely one of the most beautiful examples of the Southeastern Indian
folktale in existence. Two tales in Swanton (1929) have some affinity to the above: one Creek (pp. 34-36),
the other Hitchiti (pp. 98-99).

81 ‘Wise, knowing, cunning, in a superlative degree.’

a EASTERN CHEROKEE FOLKTALES—KILPATRICK 417

When he arrived at the location that the old man had selected, the
young man saw an Ugh(a)dhe:na. He shot it, and brought back its
meat.

In the fall the hummingbirds disappear. The old man said that
he wanted hummingbirds.

The young man went out, but instead of a hummingbird, he shot
a waghv:dha.* He took the feathers from its breast and made
hummingbirds of them. He brought them home, and from them and
hominy was made bird soup.

As soon as the old man began eating, his stomach swelled up; but
still he kept on eating, and his stomach kept swelling and swelling
until it burst.

No food came out of it—only feathers of the waghv:dha.

3.—A WOMAN IS KILLED BY A MAGIC ARROWHEAD *

In olden times, when they still used to have dances regularly at
the townhouse (ga:dhiyd:hi),°® there was a woman who always wore
the terrapin shells upon her legs. (She was the leading dancer.)

There was another woman who was very desirous of dancing with
the terrapin shells upon her legs, but the first woman would never
let her wear them.

One night when there was a dance, the woman who always wore
the terrapin shells was late in arriving, and when she came to the
dance, the other woman, her rival, was already dancing with the
terrapin shells upon her legs. She kept the terrapin shells on all
night. The first woman became very jealous.

At the next dance, exactly the same thing happened. The woman
became even more jealous.

When there was to be a dance again, the jealous woman did not
even go to it. Her parents called in a very old man who was a very
powerful wizard. This man brought with him a piece of buckskin,
and also a small gourd rattle. They all waited until they thought
that the woman against whom they intended to ‘‘work” ® had put
on the terrapin shells. It was now very dark.

The conjurer took from the piece of buckskin seven black arrow-
heads, and also the ulv:sadv, the transparent stone, and in a corner
of the hearth he made a small heap of warm ashes. This ash heap he
smoothed with his hands and put the wlv:sadv stone upright in the
center of it. Around the stone he laid in a circle the seven arrow-
heads, with their points toward the outside.

58 Fox sparrow (Passerelia iliaca iliaca).

59 One of the several forms of the word for townhouse.

60 The act of engaging in a magical activity is almost invariably referred to by the circumlocution ‘‘work’”’
(verb stem -ly:sda-).

61 ‘Shone through, it.’ This is a quartz crystal used for divining (Mooney, 1900, pp. 297-298, 458-461)

418 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 196

When he decided that the right time had come, he began to recite
an incantation in a low voice. All of a sudden there was heard a
thump against the wall of the log cabin. With a rattling noise one
of the arrowheads left its place upon the ashes and went out of the
cabin through a crack in the wall. They waited some time, then all
of a sudden the same rattling noise was heard; the flint arrowhead
had come back and resumed its place upon the heap of ashes.

The conjurer said, “Let us have light so that we may examine.”

They made some light and examined the wlv:sadv stone standing
in the middle of the ring of arrowheads. They did not see any blood
in the center of the uwlv:sadv stone.

“T suppose that it is still too early and that she is not there yet,”’
the conjurer said. ‘Let us wait awhile.”

They sent one of the family to the dance house to see if the woman
was there and if she had on the terrapin shells. He came back straight-
way and said that she was there, leading the dance.

They immediately put out the light and started to ‘work’ again.
Again a flint arrowhead left the cabin with a rattling noise. Soon
afterward it came back and resumed its place.

Again they made a light and examined; the arrowhead had blood
all over it, and the wlv:sadv stone had a streak in its center. They
then knew that the arrowhead had penetrated.

They had supper, and afterward they left for the dance house.

When they arrived there, the woman against whom they had
“worked” was dead.

The conjurer wailed, and said, ‘“‘This poor woman!”’ But I suppose
he wailed merely to hide his pleasure.”

4.—THE HUNTER AND THE THREE DOGS *

A man had three dogs, a very small one and two larger ones. He
told his wife to feed them while he was out hunting, but she did not
like the dogs, and did not feed them.

When the man returned from hunting, the dogs looked lean and
starved. While he had been away his wife had eaten without giving
them anything for their food.

Again he went off to hunt, and a third time he went. The same
thing happened. The woman hated the dogs, and that is why she
did not give them anything to eat.

One day the man returned from where he had gone to hunt, and
the Little Dog ran out and spoke to him. He was a magician, and
he could speak just as we speak.

62 This story is quite representative of a favorite genre of Cherokee story, choice examples of which are still
exchanged before a winter fire in both North Carolina and Oklahoma.

No So) )~=— «XEASTERN CHEROKEE FOLKTALES—KILPATRICK 419

“Brother,” he said, ‘‘your wife does not treat us right. Whenever
you go out to hunt, she never gives us anything to eat. One of these
days we'll treat her in a way that she won’t like.”

The man was very angry and told the Little Dog, ‘‘Do to her what-
ever you feel like doing! Shame on her for treating you that way!”

Soon afterward the man went off again to hunt. The dogs spoke
to one another about what they would do.

The woman was a great magician. She kept what they call urenda **
inasmall bag. This was filled with roots and bark.

The dogs knew where the woman had hidden this bag, and they got
it. They thought that it was meat, but when they saw that it was
not, they put it back. But they had smelled the roots in it, and had
become magical.

The next morning they watched the woman closely while she was
at breakfast. She ate choice meat, but again she did not give them
any of it. (She had noticed that the bag was torn, but she thought
that rats had torn it.)

As she was eating, she bit her finger instead of meat. She thought
that the blood from the bite tasted good, so she sucked it all out of
her finger. Then she bit another of her fingers, and then another
one. Thenshe bit her toe. Then she cut off a piece of her breast and
ate it.

By the next day she had become completely insane.

She had a little daughter who told her not to do what she was
doing, eating her own flesh in that manner, but the woman cut her
daughter to pieces and ate her.

Then the dogs became afraid, and ran away to where the hunter
was coming.

The Little Dog said, ‘Brother, your wife has become a maneater.
Don’t go that way toward your home. Let us all go the other way.”

They all ran the other way, but the woman discovered them, and
pursued them.

They came to a lake. The man made something like a raft, or a
canoe, and they all got upon it and went to the center of the water.
But the woman jumped into the lake and swam toward them, and
overtook them. Then the man pushed her away, and she was
drowned.

63 Olbrechts notes that this term was that employed by the father of Will West Long, the storyteller, and
suspects its having been borrowed from the Iroquois. Hewitt (1910) defines the word as “The Iroquois
name of the fictive force, principle, or magic power which was assumed by the inchoate reasoning of primitive
man to be inherent in every body and being of nature and in every personified attribute, property, or
activity, belonging to each of these and conceived to be the active cause or force, or dynamic energy, in-
volved in every operation or phenomenon of nature, in any manner affecting or controlling the welfare
of man.”’

4920 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 196

The man and the dogs went on until they came to the other side
of the lake. There they saw an old man and an old woman. The
man and the dogs asked if they might stay there with the old couple.
The old man and the old woman said that they had no food for the
man and the dogs.

“We will hunt for you,” the hunter said.

“All right, then,” the old couple answered. “But be careful. Our
chief is very evil, and he may want to challenge you to a game. He
may want you to race against him.”

Soon afterward the Chief came and said that he wanted to race
against the hunter. The hunter agreed to race him.

But the Little Dog said, ‘Don’t race against him. You will lose.
But lend me your clothes, and I’ll run in your stead.”

So the man stripped and put his clothes on the Little Dog who
became just like a man, just like the hunter.

Two days afterward the race was run, and the dog won.

Then the Chief said, “Let us play ball. If you win, you may cut
off my head, and you will be chief of all of this settlement.”

The Little Dog said to the hunter, “I am too small to play ball.
Get our larger brother to play. We’ll go hunting.”

Two days afterward the Chief came, and the game began. The
Little Dog and the hunter went off to the woods, but all the time the
Little Dog knew all about the game, as if he were seeing it.

The dog won, and the Little Dog knew it.

So he said to the hunter, “It’s all over now. We'll go back.”

They went back, and the hunter became chief of the settlement.™

5.—THE BOY AND THE MANEATING WOMAN

There once lived a maneating people.

A man lived with his son, and a woman lived in their neighborhood.
She was a maneater. The man would go out to hunt, and what he
killed, he always brought to the woman. If he had not done this, the
woman would have eaten him. The man went out to hunt every day.

The boy cried for his father to give him meat. He especially wanted
liver. His father said, “I can’t do that. I am buying our lives.
If we do not give her meat, she will kill us.”

One day the man went out hunting and came home at nightfall.
The boy went out and examined his father’s arrows. They were
stained with blood for half of their length.

The next day the boy decided: “I will go and see agili:st.”"* His

64 Stories similar to the above are in Swanton (1929), from the following sources: Creek (two examples)
(pp. 23-26); Hitchiti (two examples) (pp. 92-94); Koasati (p. 194); Natchez-Cherokee (pp. 243-245). There

is a Tasgigi specimen in Speck (1907, pp. 160-161).
85 Mother’s mother (for additional connotations see Gilbert, 1943, p. 225).

No. 80). )~)SC EASTERN CHEROKEE FOLKTALES—KILPATRICK 421

father told him not to do it. The boy did not go very close to the
house of the maneating woman. From a distance he saw her meat
hanging up, drying, inside her house. As she had gone out of the
house for but a short while, the boy at a distance got some liver from
the house. He was a magician.

The boy’s father asked, ‘‘Why did you do that?”

“T want liver,’”’ the boy answered.

The father said, ‘She will come after you!”

Soon the woman came home and found that the boy had taken the
liver. She went to him and said, “I want that liver back!’ She
seized him, and holding him by the legs, she shook him.

“She will challenge you to a race,” the father told the boy.

“T will accept,” the boy said.

The boy accepted her challenge.

He observed how she prepared for the race, and he, too, prepared.
He took a hand’s-length of mulberry bark and made it into a string.
Then he went out to hunt a weasel, © killed one, and removed its skin.
Then he went out to hunt a panther, killed one, and took one of its
whiskers.

Two days later the maneating woman came out and said that she
was ready to begin the race. She took the boy by the hand and led
him along to the place from which the contestants were to start.

There was a tall hickory tree standing there. The woman made
the boy step upon this tree, and as he did so, it bent down. She made
him walk its full length. Then suddenly she let loose of the boy, and
the tree, in taking its upright position, hurled the boy back a long way.

The woman began to run. She ran out a long way ahead of the
boy.

But the boy changed the weasel skin into a deer, which he mounted
and rode. ‘The mulberry bark he transformed into a snake. The
panther’s whisker he made into a panther which ate the maneating
woman.

When the boy arrived at the goal, there were a number of old men
sitting there, smoking out of a pipe. They were Maneating People.
They felt certain that the woman was going to win the race, and when
they saw the boy arrive first, they were much surprised. The woman
had wagered the boy that if she won, she was to kill the boy, but if she
lost, all of the Maneating People were to be killed.®®

6§ Olbrechts’ notes state that the boy also killed a rat. Inasmuch as there is no subsequent mention ofa
rat, we hypothesize that Olbrechts’ informant, since he was thinking in Cherokee and not English, first said
“rat,’”’ and then in correction said ‘‘weasel’”’ (the term for weasel in Cherokee literally means ‘yellow rat’),
and that Olbrechts in error wrote down both “‘rat’”’ and ‘‘weasel.’’

67 The role of the snake is obscure. Either Olbrechts or his informant failed to elaborate at this juncture.

68 The motif of the cannibal woman, widely distributed over North America, is found in a Natchez-Chero-
kee story in Swanton (1929, pp. 219-222), that doubtlessly has some slight affinity to the above story. ‘The
tale of the maneating woman in Mooney (1900, pp. 316-319) seemingly is unrelated to either of them.

422 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 196

6.—THE MAN WHO BECAME A BEAR

A man went out to hunt. He followed a bear’s track, and found
the bear feeding. He shot the bear, but it got away. The man
followed in pursuit. The bear ran to a dense laurel thicket under a
cliff.

When the hunter got there, he saw a white bear sitting there next
to the wounded bear. The white bear was a doctor. He spoke to the
hunter: ‘‘Why, you have hurt him very much,” he said. The white
bear took the arrows out of the wounded bear and began to cure him.
He asked the hunter, ‘‘Would you like to live with us?”

“T will try,” the hunter said.

He lived with the Bear people, and they lived just as we do. He
ate their food.

The white bear was the Chief, and he told the wounded bear and
the hunter to go and live together for the winter. They ate chestnuts,
which the bear produced by rubbing his forepaws together, and when
the winter was passed, they came out for spring. By this time the
hunter had become like a real bear, with sharp claws, long shaggy
hair, and a short tail.

The bear assigned a branch [creek] for him to live on, and chose one
for himself. They agreed upon a meeting place. There they met again
the next fall, and they went to live together again for the winter.

After they had stayed together some time, the bear felt as if some-
thing was going back and forth over his head. He knew this to be a
sign that some human being was going to find him soon. He told his
companion about it, and said, ‘‘When the hunters come, you must keep
quiet. ‘They will find me and kill me, but in 7 days I will become alive
again and come back to you.”

Indeed, hunters came and tracked and killed the bear. But they
also saw the other bear; but this one talked and said, “I am not a bear,
but one of your people—the one who was lost so many years ago.”

They asked him why he stayed there, and why he lived like a bear.
Then he told them how the Chief of the Bear people had commanded
him to do so.

Then he went home with the hunters.*°

STORIES OF ANIMAL, BIRD, AND INSECT MATES
1—THE MAN WHO MARRIED AN ELK

A very long time ago there lived a man who was a very successful
hunter. He lived with his old mother. He used to go out into the
wilderness to hunt. At times he would stay away for a whole year, or

® The above is essentially the same as a story which in a fuller version was collected by Mooney (1900,
pp. 327-329). A Koasati tale in Swanton (1929, pp. 191-192) exhibits a kinship to Mooney’s narrative.

No 20) 7 ’)~«=—s EASTERN CHEROKEE FOLKTALES—KILPATRICK 423

even longer. Then he lived in camp, went out hunting all day, and at
night came in to dry the meat to take to his mother when he went
back home.

One night when he returned to his camp, he noticed that someone
had been in his cabin. It had been swept out neatly, the fire was
burning, and his supper was ready for him—nice and warm. He
looked about and saw the footprints of a woman.

He ate his supper and lay down to sleep, and next morning he went
out to hunt, as usual.

When he came back at night, he again found his cabin swept, the
fire lit, and his supper ready. He was anxious to find out who looked
after him so well, and to see her; so instead of eating his supper, he
fasted, and he sat up all night, and while next morning he went out as
usual, he did not go far, but when he thought that the woman would be
in his cabin, he returned.

When he entered the cabin, he found a good-looking woman, busy
at household tasks. They talked to each other, and they agreed that
they would be husband and wife, and that she would prepare his food
for him.

They lived there together for perhaps 2 or 3 years. After a year
had passed, a child was born, and after another year had passed, there
was a second child. Both of the children were boys.

Soon after that the man said that he wanted to go home to see his
mother, and to take her the dried meat. The woman said that it
would be all right, and that she and the children would live on the meat
that he left.

“But when you get there,” she told him, “you must not pay any
attention to the other girls. They will try to attract you, but you
must come back to me and the children.”

When he got home, his mother was very happy to see him. The
people who had attractive girls sent them to get some of the meat.

One day his mother told him: ‘‘The parents of that girl that came
and talked to me want you to marry their girl. And she is a pretty
girl, too, so you had better do it.”’

He thought: ‘‘Yes, indeed, she is a pretty girl!’

So he did not mind what his wife in the wilderness had told him,
and he married this girl.

After some time he became lonely, and he wanted to see his first
wife and his little boys again. He went back to the place in the
wilderness where he had left them, but when he got there, he found
nobody, and there was no indication of anyone having been there
for many years.

Then he wanted to find out where they had gone. He fasted, and
I suppose he said a prayer, too, and he examined. I do not know

494 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 196

what he examined with—maybe with the brown stone, or with beads
(he could use them, if he knew how).

Well, he found out that they had gone toward the East. His two
little boys had each had a hatchet, and as they had traveled along,
they had cut strips of bark off trees that they had passed. He followed
these marks, but he could see no footprints.

The mother had told the children: ‘Your father will be looking for
us. If he finds us, be careful. Act as if you do not recognize him.”

The man followed all the way the trail along which they had gone,
and finally found a woman and two children. He did not recognize
them, and the woman did not talk to him. But the boys recognized
him, and ran to him, calling ‘‘Father!’’

The woman scolded them. She said, “Did I not forbid you to call
him ‘father’?”’

Then the man said to her, “I recognize you, too. You are my wife.”

At that moment the woman changed herself to her original form:
she was an elk.”

2.—THE MAN WHO MARRIED A BEAVER

Once the people were having a dance. While they were dancing,
there came in two girls. Nobody knew then, nor from what settle-
ment they were, but they were very pretty, nice girls. Each had a
beautiful ribbon hanging from her back.

All of the boys were very much attracted to them, and when the
girls left, one of the boys followed them to find out where they lived.
At the fork of Tuckasegee and Oconaluftee Rivers at Ela ™ they disap-
peared at the edge of the water.

The boy went home. He was very lovesick. He told his grand-
father about the girls. His grandfather was a great wizard, and he
told the boy what to do if he wanted to speak to the girls.

‘Hat nothing all day on the day of the dance,” he said, ‘‘and if you
follow them again, they will not disappear from you.”

So on the day of the next dance, he fasted all day. That night
the two girls again came to the dance, and when they left, he followed
them.

When the two girls came to the bank of the river, they stepped
into the water. The boy was afraid to do the same thing, but one of
the girls turned around and said, “Do not be afraid. This is not
water; it is just a trail.”

7 This story bears a general resemblance to a Koasati tale recorded in Swanton (1929, p. 193), and has a
weak affinity to a Choctaw example in Bushnell (1909, p. 32). Its ending has points of similarity to the
Oklahoma Cherokee tale of the man who mated with a deer, found in Kilpatrick and Kilpatrick (1964,
pp. 84-91).

11 We assume that Ravensfork, written here in place of Oconaluftee, is an error. This site is in Swain
County, N.C., between Birdtown and what is known as the 3200-Acre Tract.

Se al EASTERN CHEROKEE FOLKTALES—KILPATRICK 425

Then he walked behind them, and they all walked upon the water
as if it had been a trail.

When the girls got to the other bank of the river, there was a door
through which they went. He followed them, and found himself in a
nice house. The father and mother of the girl and all of her people
were there, and they all were very beautiful and attractive.

The father said, “Well, do you want to be my son-in-law? All
right—just stay with us.”

That night, as he lay with his wife, he felt that she had something
at her back. It wasa tail. She was a beaver, and all her people were
beavers.

The next day he ate with his wife’s people, but the food tasted very
bad to him. It wassnake meat. His wife’s people knew what he was
thinking, and they said, ‘‘Doesn’t he like that food? Allright! His
people do not live far away. We will send to them to get some food
that he likes.”” So they sent two of the family, who came back with
corn and beans and other kinds of food that he customarily ate.

In time he became very lonesone and homesick. He did not like
to stay with these beaver people. They knew what he was thinking,
and they said, ‘‘Doesn’t he like to stay with us? He is right; he had
better go back to his own people.”’

So they sent his wife and her sister back with him to show him
the way; but, before the girls left him, they said, ‘‘As long as you live,
don’t tell anything that has happened. If you do tell, we will expect
you back in 7 days.”’

When he got back home, all of his people were much surprised.
They remembered how he had followed the two unknown girls, and
they wanted to know what had happened to him. At first he refused
to tell them, but they insisted so much and made life so difficult for
him that at last he could hold out no longer. He told them the whole
story. His people were very sorry for him, especially when they heard
what he said at the end.

Within 7 days he died.”

3.—THE OWL HUSBAND

In a certain settlement there was held a dance. A young man
went to it. There were many girls there, and he fell in love with one
of them. He talked to her, and they decided that they would become
husband and wife. He said that he would come to her home toward
nightfall on one of the following days. The girl was looking for him,
and he came and lived with her.

72 The opening of this story is quite similar to the beginnings of a Hitchiti tale in Swanton (1929, pp 91-92)

and an Oklahoma Cherokee narrative in Kilpatrick and Kilpatrick (1964, pp. 84-91). Certain details are
paralleled in Mooney (1900, pp. 343-345).

426 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 196

He always arose before daylight, and he always said that he went
off to hunt, but he never brought anything back when he returned at
night. When he came in at night, he always stood with his back to
the fire. No one ever saw his face. When he was asked why he always
stood with his back to the fire, he said that he had a toothache and
that the heat of the fire made it worse.

Then the brothers of the girl decided that they would see his face;
so next day, when he was gone, they got some dry sumac to burn.
(Dry sumac pops, and sends out sparks in all directions.)

That night, when he was standing with his back turned toward
the fire, they put on the fire a stick of dry sumac, and soon sparks
were flying in all directions. Some of them flew onto his back and
set his clothing on fire.

He was scared, and he looked around to see what was wrong with
the fire. Then they saw that he had two big eyes and a crooked nose.

He was an owl.”

4—THE SAPSUCKER HUSBAND

A man saw a girl that he wanted to be his wife. He was a good-
looking man, well dressed, and with something red upon his head.
He finally succeeded in marrying her.

One cold day he told his wife that he was going out into the woods
to cut wood. At noon she cooked him a good dinner, but after some
time had passed and he still had not come home to eat it, she went out
into the woods to look for him.

As she walked, she listened for the sound of his chopping. She
did not hear it. After awhile she started home. On her way she
noticed a big red-headed bird pecking as hard as he could all around
a tree, as if he were trying to cut it down but was unable to do so.

Late that afternoon her husband came home and sat down near the
fire. He sighed and put his hands to his head.

“T have a headache. I chopped too hard,” he said.

His wife told him about the bird she had seen.

“That was I,’’ he said.

The girl had married a gh(v)gwo-:gha.™

5.—THE RED WORM HUSBAND

There was a man who used to come to see a girl in a family. He
used to come by often. Finally he asked to marry the girl.
He was a good-looking man who wore red-brownish clothes.

73 Although there is a story of an owl-husband in Mooney (1900, pp. 291-292), the above bears less affinity
to it than to a tale (ibid., pp. 292-293) wherein the huhu (yellow mockingbird) isthe mate. The episode of
the sumac in the above is found in an Oklahoma Cherokee tale wherein the husband with questionable
credentials is the slant-eyed giant, Tsw:hl(i)gvl(a) (Kilpatrick and Kilpatrick, 1964, pp. 65-69).

74 Sapsucker. This story is very similar indeed to “The Huhu Gets Married’”’ in Mooney (1900, pp.
292-293).

No 80) )~=s«;EASTERN CHEROKEE FOLKTALES—KILPATRICK 427

The girl became pregnant. A child was born, and then another
and another, until there was a heap of babies this high.”

The man became ashamed. He was a red worm, and the babies
were not human beings.

The people left all the young worms in the house, which they set
afire. They burned all of them with their mother.”

6.—THE INSECT HUSBAND

A man came and courted a woman. The woman became pregnant.
She gave birth to as many babies as an insect has legs. The woman
was ashamed, and told her husband to go away.

So he left, and they never saw each other again.”

TALES OF HUNTING AND FISHING
1—THE HEADLESS BEAR

A man’ went hunting. When he came to a mountain, he saw a
bear upon a steep incline just above him.

He shot at the bear and hit it, for it came rolling down the mountain-
side. As it came nearer, he decided it was but a cub because it looked
so small. When it arrived where he stood, it stopped. Then he saw
that it was only the head of the bear.

The man saw the bear running on down the slope of the mountain.
Then it turned and ran in the opposite direction. The man saw that
pursuing an animal that kept changing directions was useless. He
carried the head home.

2.—THE INDESTRUCTIBLE BEAR

Hunters once killed a bear in a cave. It had a slice of fat on its
sides that [12-15 cm.] thick. The next year they went to the same
cave and found that the bear was there again. Again they killed it,
and found that the slice of fat was just a trifle thinner. And so on,
for 7 years in succession, they returned to the same cave and killed
that bear, the slice of fat being thinner each time.

After the seventh year, they returned to the cave, but found it
deserted.7°

75 Olbrechts did not record the height.

76 A Creek version of this story is found in Swanton (1929, p. 38).

1” The resemblance of this story to the one immediately preceding it is patent.

78 Olbrechts comments that the name of this hunter was U:sgo:h(a) (‘he has dandruff’), and that Morgan
Calhoun, who told the story, although he knew the hunter personally, obtained the account from an un-
named individual who also knew U:3sgo:h(a).

79 Olbrechts’ note: ‘‘The informant [Morgan Calhoun] has not the slightest doubt but this was the same

bear, coming back to life again six consecutive times. The tale was told me as ‘proof’ that bears come back
to life.

498 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLy. 196
3.—THE FAT BEAR

Three men went out to hunt. They shot and wounded a bear.
The bear got away, but they followed its bloody trail.

Along the way they found a piece of fat meat from the side of the
bear. They picked it up and went on. They kept finding pieces of
fat until they had so much [a heap 20 cm. in diameter].

Finally they said, ‘Let the bear go. We have enough fat.”

4—A RIDE ON A BUCK

This happened to a man named IJdigv:ne:hi,®° who died about
25 years ago.*! He was a very successful hunter.

One day he went hunting. Lead and powder were very scarce in
those days. Idiguv:ne:hi had just one bullet. He saw a big buck and
shot it, and it rolled down from the hill to where Jdigv:ne:hi stood.
It had huge antlers.

When it arrived where the man stood, the buck revived. Jdigv:-
ne:ht wanted to kill it with his hunting knife, and he got astride the
buck. Itjumped up and ran away with the man, who held onto it with
both hands. The buck carried him a long distance, and then circled
back to where Jdigv:ne:hi’s gun was lying. The man managed to
snatch up his gun as the buck ran past it, but the man could not do
anything with it since he had to hold onto the buck’s antlers.

Then the buck became exhausted and fell. The man then killed it.

5.—A HUNTER SHOOTS OVER A MOUNTAIN

A deer hunter went out to hunt. On top of the mountain he saw
a herd of deer among which there was one very large animal, but, as he
was getting ready to shoot, the herd went back over the top and on to
the other side.

There was a tree standing on top of the mountain, and the hunter
thought, ‘Maybe if I hit the branch of that tree, the bullet will rico-
chet down to where that big deer is.’’

He shot, and everything happened exactly as he had thought that
it would. *

Footnote 79—Continued

“No cases are known where other animals—deer, turkey, rabbit, etc.—coming back to life after having
been killed.

“A pretty similar variant of the same story is told by WW. [Will West Long], but is probably influenced
by the above, told by his brother.’

80 “Maker of them to do.’

81 Ca. 1902.

83 The Cherokee greatly relish tall tales of hunting, especially those with a humorous twist (see Kilpatrick
and Kilpatrick, 1964, pp. 101-104). Olbrechts comments upon this tale as follows: ‘‘M. [organ] knows an-
other expedient in similar case: the man held his gun with both arms over his head and managed in’that way
to shoot over the mountain and hit his mark.”’

hore EASTERN CHEROKEE FOLKTALES—KILPATRICK 429

6.—AN ANGLER CATCHES A TURKEY

A fisherman went out to fish, but had had no luck. All of a sudden
he felt a tug at his line. He thought he had a big fish and pulled up
on his rod with such force that the hook flew over his head and landed
in the brush behind him.

He tried to pull it back, but could not do it. When he went to
see what was holding it, he found that he had caught a wild turkey in
the eye.®

7.—THE HUNTER AND THE WATERDOGS

A man went hunting in the woods. He came to a hill. He heard
strange sounds from the hollow on the other side of it.

Then he heard a voice say, “Is it close? You told us that the
lake was near. My legs and arms are getting wrinkled.”

Then he saw two waterdogs going along upon the hill, toward
the lake.

8.—THE HUNTER AND THE PANTHER

A hunter was out in the woods alone, looking for deer. Panthers
like to lie crouched upon leaning trees, where they make themselves
look like dry leaves and old tree trunks. The hunter did not see
that a panther was sitting above him. The panther leaped upon
the hunter’s back.

The hunter fell to the ground and pretended to be dead, for they
say that a panther never eats warm meat. The hunter still had his
bow in his hand, but all of his arrows were in his quiver.

With his tail the panther grasped the hunter, threw the man upon
his back, and carried him off. When the panther had gone quite
some distance, he put the hunter down and covered him with dry
leaves. The panther was still not certain that the man was dead,
so he kept watching him for awhile. Then he lay down upon a tree
trunk in the sun.

Slowly and carefully, so as not to attract the panther’s attention
by the rustle of the leaves, the hunter got an arrow from his quiver
and put it to his bow. Then suddently he jumped up from under
the leaves and shot and killed the panther.

8 Olbrechts’ note: “This story smells vy [very] Europ. [ean]: W. [ill West Long] does not work out the
humorous side of it: the man’s astonishment at ‘fishing’ turkeys.’’ In 1961 the editors taped in Oklahoma
an erotic myth in Cherokee which begins quite similarly to the above, and there is a story in Kilpatrick and
Kilpatrick (1964, pp. 134-135) that, except for a few details, is precisely the same story.

747-014—66——32

430 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 196

LEGENDS OF THE ANI:GH(1)SGI* WAR
1—THE ANI:GH(I)SGI AND THE FOUR MAGICIANS

The Ani: gh(i)sgi lived over the mountains toward the west, where
Sevierville, Tenn., is now. They were Indians. They spoke a
language that was different from Cherokee.

The Ani: gh(z)sgi came through Indian Gap * to where the mound
near Bryson City * is and killed a man and took his scalp. Later
they came by Yellowhill ** and killed three men and took their scalps.

The Cherokees pursued the Ani:gh(i)sgi. The Ani: gh(i)sgi went
to Unido: dhlalé:yi 8° and camped there. The Cherokees had their
camp this side of Unidv: dhlali: yi.

The Cherokees had with them four old men, all very powerful
magicians. One of them said to another one, “‘you go and see where
the Ani: gh(i)sgi are.”

“No,” the other one said. ‘You go,’ he said to the third one.

But the third one said, ‘I won’t go. You go,” he said to the
fourth magician.

The fourth magician said, “All right. I will go.”

He went around a tree and disappeared. They heard a rat crawling
up into a tree: “Tsi:! Tsi:! Tsi:!,’ and soon afterward they saw
a crow fly off, calling: “Gho:! Gho:! Gho:!”

The Cherokees said to each other, “He is off!”

Just a little while after that they heard the crow come back, and
then they heard the rat once more. Soon the man appeared from
behind the tree.

Next morning the Cherokees went to where the Ani:gh(i)sgi had
their camp. The Cherokees attacked them. The Ani:gh(i)sgi could

& While the Ani: gh(i)sgi cannot be identified with certainty, they were probably the Chisca division of
the Yuchi. As late as the 17th century some group of the Yuchi people lived on the western flanks of the
Appalachians in what is now Tennessee (Swanton, 1922, pp. 286-312; 1946, pp. 212-215; 1952, pp. 116-120).
In modern Cherokee the term Ani:gh(i)sgi means ‘bob-tailed ones,’ perhaps derived from some feature
of costume; and there is a possibility that this tribal name may have been corrupted from Ani: gh(i)hisgt
(‘the ones who swallow’); but it is more than likely that the word represents an attempt to transfer into
Cherokee what these people called themselves, or what still another tribe called them. We have never
yet encountered among the Oklahoma Cherokee any reference, written or oral, to the Ani: gh(i)sgi as a
tribe of Indians, but the term, used as a synonym for witches, or ‘night-walkers,’ is sometimes seen in
manuscript medicine books. Unionist Cherokees sometimes referred to Confederate Cherokees as Ani:-
gh(a)sgi.

83 Sevier County.

86 Near Gatlinburg, Sevier County, Tenn. One of the principal trails across the Great Smoky Mountains
ran through Indian Gap.

81 Keetoowah (Gidu:hwa) Mound. This was the site of the Tuckasegee River settlement of the same
name (Swain County, N.C.).

88 One of the townships on the Eastern Cherokee Reservation.

8° Mooney (1900, pp. 406, 516) identifies this as ‘‘Where they made arrows,’ on Straight Creek, near
Cataluchee Peak, in Swain County, N.C., and so named because a Shawnee war party from across the
mountains once stopped there in order to prepare arrows. We suspect some degree of corruption of this
place name having occurred; for, if Mooney’s translation is correct, then one would expect the term to be
closer to Duno: dhlv?no:y1.

fo a0) )~=S*«é‘XzASTTERRN: CHEROKEE FOLKTALES—KILPATRICK 431

do nothing. The soil under them became muddy, and they sank into
the ground up to their hips. The Cherokees killed them all.

2.—A MAGICIAN SPIES ON THE ANI:GH(1)SGI

Near what they now call Almond,°®° near Bryson City, in a fork of
the Little Tennessee and Nantahala Rivers, there was a settlement of
Cherokees." They had there a place of amusement—perhaps a
ga: dha.

A party of Ani:gh(2)sgi from Tennessee, who had to come across
Indian Gap, came there and killed many Cherokees. They captured
a girl, and took her back with them toward their home.

When the Cherokees heard about this, they gathered from all the
settlements and started in pursuit the same day of the raid.

Near Indian Gap the Ani: gh(i)sgi, who had become tired, camped
and built a fire. The girl could not understand anything they said,
and was afraid that they had taken her with them to kill her.

The pursuing Cherokees had with them an old man who was a
great magician.

The greater part of the Ani:gh(z)sgi was asleep about the fire, but
the girl could not sleep. In the night she heard a sparrow calling
in a tree nearby: ‘“‘Tst:wisdh(1)! Tst:wisdh(i)!’ Then the sparrow
seemed to flit from one tree to another. The girl knew that this
meant that the Cherokees were near. She feigned sleep.

The Cherokees had also camped near the place where the Anv:-
gh(t)sgt were sleeping, and the next morning the old man who was
with them said, ‘‘I dreamed that the Ani: gh(z)sgi were quite near us,
and that we were going to kill them all.”” Hesaid that he had dreamed
this, but he had not really dreamed it; he had been to the Anv:-
gh(2)sgt camp himself in the form of a sparrow. He was a great
magician.

So the Cherokees moved in immediately, surprised the Anz: gh(2)squ,
and killed them all.

3.—THE CHEROKEES AVENGE A WOMAN KILLED BY THE
ANI:GH(I)SGI

At the edge of a big settlement a woman was living with her grand-
child. All of the men were away from the village. The Anz: gh(2)sgi
came and killed the old woman, but they could not catch the child,
who ran and told the Cherokee men. They came at once to the old
woman’s home and found her dead. She had been scalped.

% Macon County, N.C.
1 This was Ghanu:gahlé; yi (‘briar [or blackberry]-place’).

432 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 196

The men started after the enemy immediately, and chased them all
night. The next day was rainy. The enemy had now gone as far as
this side of Indian Gap, and they thought that they were safe. They
went to sleep under some spruce trees. (The whole party had gotten
just one scalp.)

But the Cherokees found them where they were sleeping and killed
them all, and when they returned home, they had a fine scalp dance.”

4.—AN A:GH(I)SGI® IS KILLED BY A BONE

In olden times, when the Cherokees and the Ani:gh(2)sgi were at
war, before the White people came, or maybe a little after that time,
a Cherokee party went out against the enemy. In the forest they
made a fence fort by putting up felled trees all around them. They
had a doorway to go in and out, and a fire in the center.

About nightfall they were eating deer which they had killed during
the day. They were eating the flesh off the bones. They heard the
ery of a flying squirrel: “Tsi:! Tsi:! Tsi:!”

One of them said, ‘“That is not a flying squirrel! It’s an A:gh(i)sgi!”
and he threw the bone that he was gnawing over the stockade in the
direction from where the cry came. The sharp bone hit the A:gh(i)sgi
who was standing there right in the eye, and he fell back and died.

All the other Ani:gh(2)sgi as soon as they saw this ran away as fast
as they could because they thought that there were some powerful
magicians in the party of Cherokees.

If this A:gh(z)sgi had not been killed by the bone, all of the Chero-
kees would certainly have been killed because the Ani: gh(2)sgi could
have shot anyone coming out of the doorway, or showing his head
above the stockade.

5.—A MAGICIAN DEFIES THE ANI:GH(I)SGI

At the time of the war between the Ani: gh(i)sgi and the Cherokees
a person was not allowed to go out hunting alone; it was too dangerous,
for he might be killed by the Ani:gh(i)sgi. So hunters always went
out in parties of perhaps seven, eight, or nine men.

One time a party went out to hunt in the wilderness. At night
they would build no fort, but had just a campfire upon which to cook
their meat.

With them they had an old man to examine and find out if they
were going to kill any deer, or if there were any enemies about. He
could examine for anything; he was a powerful magician. Before

® Olbrechts’ note: ‘‘Scalps were not allowed to be seen before dance[.] Everyone dances individ.[ually]
and says what he can do, produces the scalp and dances; when he has finished he shouts—‘Hi-+’ and the
singers stop. M.forgan] still knows the songs[.]’’

% Singular of Ani:gh(i)sgi.

i EASTERN CHEROKEE FOLKTALES—KILPATRICK 433

examining for deer, he would first examine for the presence of the
enemy. He held his hands like this [fig. 13].

As he was examining for the presence of the enemy, the black bead
moved toward the red one.“ This was a sign that the enemy would
come into the Cherokee camp. Then he examined to find out if any
of the Cherokees would be killed, and if so, the names of the individuals.

As the Cherokees were talking about this, sitting by the fire, they
suddenly saw the Ani:gh(i)sgi. The old man, the one who had

FiaurE 13.—Manner of holding beads for divining, as sketched by Olbrechts.

% Several methods of divining with ade-:lv (‘beads’) are still employed by the Cherokee, and a sizable
number of the prefatory idi:gawé:sdi (‘to say them, one’) used in bead divining exists (Kilpatrick and
Kilpatrick, in press). Being of shell, these beads were originally white and purple, not red and black.

434 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Buty 196

examined, said, ‘‘Run home as hard as you can! I will remain here
and stand near the fire.”

So the whole Cherokee party ran home as hard as it could.

When the Ani:gh(v)sgi saw the man standing near the fire, they
shot at him, but missed him. Again they shot, but again they missed.
He kept walking about the fire, very slowly. Then when the
Ani:gh(i)sgi came nearer, and they shot at him again, he let himself
fall to the ground, upon which he rolled about. They kept shooting
at him from quite near until all their arrows had been shot. Then
they had to retrieve their arrows.

While they were looking around for their arrows, he rolled a little
way aside to the edge of a steep hill and then rolled all the way down
the hill. By the time they had found arrows and had gotten ready
to shoot again, they did not see him anymore.

He was a magician, and the reason why they could not kill him
was that he was up in the air all the time that they were shooting at
him, and what they were shooting at was only his shadow. They
could not see him; they always shot at his shadow.

6.—THE BATTLE OF WA?DHO:GI MOUND

The old men of the Cherokee were great magicians—the most
powerful of all.

The Ani:gh(t)sgi had been fighting around here,® and then they
went down near Wa?dho:gi * and killed a hunter. The hunters that
were with him went to Wa?dho:gi and told the people there what
happened.

An old man ordered the people to pursue the Ani:gh(i)sgi, who
ran for Wa?dho:gi Mound.” The old man from Wa?dho:gi prayed
for the Ani: gh(2)sgi to become weak.

As the Ani:gh(2)sgi climbed the mound (by way of which they had
also come), the slope of it became muddy. There had been no mud
there when they had come over the mound, but now they sank up to
their ankles in the mud. As they climbed higher, they sank deeper
and deeper, and by the time they reached the top, they were in mud
up to their thighs.

% The Eastern Cherokee Reservation.

% This settlement was located on Watauga Creek, near Franklin, Macon County, N.C. We cannot
translate the name, and suspect that it is not from Cherokee.

% Olbrechts made a note to the effect that his informant, Morgan Calhoun, knew of several mounds:
(1) One near Yellowhill from which “‘people from the government” had taken bones that they considered
to be human, but which he thought were merely deer; (2) another one near Yellowhill, called Nuno:yi
(‘potato-place’); (3) one beyond (south of?) Birdtown, the southernmost of the Qualla townships, called
Ganv:dhalé:yi (‘hooked, it-place’); (4) Gidu:hwa, near Governors Island; (5) Ganv:hid6:yi (long, it-
place’), in Cherokee County, near Murphy, at the “limit of the Asheville Division Railroad”; (6) Wa?-
dho:gi, ‘strongest of all,’ which he erroneously thought to be somewhere in South Carolina or Georgia.
Calhoun told Olbrechts that formerly there were many mounds that no longer exist. ‘He does not know
what they were for[.] Forts perhaps? Or maybe people in olden times lived in them!”

ANTHROP. PAP.
No. 30), EASTERN CHEROKEE FOLKTALES—KILPATRICK 435

They were very much worn out, and on the top of the mound the
Cherokees overtook them and killed all of them except one. They
took the scalps from all of those that they killed, and they also brought
back the Cherokee scalp which the Anz: gh(2)sgi had taken.

From the one that they did not kill, they took the scalp, just the
same, and then let him go. As soon as they told him to go back to
his people the earth became dry again. (This was brought about
by the powerful Wa?dho:gi magician.) They let one man go after
having taken his scalp in order to let him go tell his people that the
Cherokees were not afraid, and that they wanted all the Ani:gh(2)sqgi
to come so that the Cherokees could do the same thing to them.

With the Ani:gh(t)sgi was living a Cherokee girl whom they had
captured many years ago, and who could speak their language. She
later told her people all that the Ani :gh(2)sgi had said.

When the scalped man got back to where his people lived, he told
them all that had happened. Then the chiefs of the Ani-:gh(1)sq
assembled, and they decided that there must be peace between the
Ani:gh(i)sgi and the Cherokee. (The Cherokee were very powerful
at that time, and all the tribes were afraid of them.)

This is how peace came about between the Cherokee and the
Ani:gh(t)sgi. This battle was the last one of the war.

The Cherokee girl came back to her people and told them all that
the Ani:gh(i)sgi had said about them.

LOCAL LEGENDS
1—THE DANCING GHOSTS

Between Bryson City and Almond, and Topton, along the Nantahala
River, is a place they call Dudv-hnv:yi.*8 It is a rock like two rooms;
there is something like a portal to it, and there is a room on each side.

Once a few hunters went there and built a fire in one of the rooms.
Later a few more hunters came. They all lay down to sleep. But
one of them was mischievous, and he began to sing the Addé?ho:nd
(“wood, cut it, you [imp.]’’), the Women’s Dance,*® which is sung
by men. He kept saying, ‘“Ditsa:nv:sv:dhv:ga! (fasten them [solid]
on, you all [imp.]).”

As soon as he started to sing, all the men heard the sound of shells
in the other room.

The man became nervous and said, ‘‘Let’s go away from here!
There are people living here, and they might not like for us to stay.”

98 ‘He stated them-place’? Seemingly this would be in Swain County, N.C.

% Speck and Broom (1951, p. 80) refer to this as the Women-Gathering-Wood Dance. The Cherokee term
for it, which they translate as ‘make wood,’ contains a form of a verb used principally in reference to ob-
taining firewood. Its stem is merely -o-. It has no real English equivalent.

436 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 196

2.—THE UGH(A)DHE;N(A) BRIDGE

They all left.!

This happened on this side of Dudv:hni: yi?

Some men were out hunting. Darkness overtook them, but they
kept going on. Suddenly they noticed a light. They did not know
where it came from; there was nothing at the foot of the hill where
they were. But when they looked up, they saw a sort of footlog
from the top of one hill to another. It was lighted up.

They kept going on; they decided it was an Ugh(a)dhe:n(a).

3.—UGH(A) DHE: NI: YI

This is a true story.

There is a place, halfway between the Fieldhouse and Cherokee,’
called Ugh(a)dhe:ni: yr.

Some people had been over there on the other side of the river. It
seemed to them that something had been there in the brushwood.
They thought that something must be living in the deep hole in the
river there.

The men were anxious to see what it was, so they fasted all day.
Between afternoon and evening they noticed something was in the
water. The water rose, and whistled like the wind.

After a while it became calm. Then they saw big snakes, Uni::
gh(a)dhe:n(a),* in the big hole of water. Then they went away. That
is all they wanted to see.

That is what they call this place Uni:gh(a)dhe:ni:yi,> or
Ugh(a)dhe:ni:yr.®

4—THE GHOST OF DISO:LVDH(V) DI:YI

About a quarter of a mile this side of Birdtown is a place called
Diso:lvudh(v)di:yi (‘to stretch out the arms-place’). There was a
trail that passed by there, and people who used it often saw a human
being standing there with his arms outstretched. Nobody knew
who it was.

There used to be a ball ground there where a very strong man

1 Olbrechts’ note: ‘‘W.[ill West Long] and TN [Tsi:sghwa Na:i] have heard of a pretty similar case. A
solitary hunter wanted to spend night there. He also started singing same song. Same result.’”’ Morgan
Calhoun doubtlessly told the tale to Olbrechts.

2 See footnote 98, p. 435.

8 On the Eastern Cherokee Reservation.

4'The plural of Ugh(a)dhe-:n(a).

5 ‘Ugh(a)dhe:n(a) [pl.]-place.’

6 “Ugh(a) dhe:n(a)-place.’

AoTeO) )6)|SCEASTERN CHEROKEE FOLKTALES—KILPATRICK 437

who always got the ball used to play. Before he put the ball through
the posts, he always stopped and stretched out his arms.

5.—THE LITTLE PEOPLE AND THE GIANT YELLOW JACKETS

Little People lived at South Side Gap,’ between Haywood and
Jackson Counties. Yellow jackets * used to cross this gap, and the
Little People would watch them. The yellow jackets used to catch
pigs and fawns.

The Little People wondered where the nest of the yellow jackets
was, for yellow jackets are good to eat. The Little People followed
them, and found that their nest was to the east of the gap. The
Little People got weeds ® (they gathered a pile of them) and set
fire to them. They put them on the ground and drove in the smoke.

The last nest of yellow jackets is that of queens (large ones).
The queens remain throughout the winter.

When the Sa:nuwa '° disappeared, all powerful insects, the big
yellow jackets with them, went to heaven.

6.—THE NEST OF THE SA:NUWA

The Sa:nuwa were about the size of a man. These birds lived at
the same time the other powerful birds and insects lived. These
powerful birds could carry off a baby for their food.

A grandmother was taking care of a baby. A Sa:nuwa came and
carried it off. The grandmother thought: ‘‘What can we do?”

She decided that she would make a rope of linden withes. She
gathered some of them, stripped them, boiled them, and made a rope.

She went to the top of the cliff in which the Sa:nuwa lived. She
tied pine limbs into the rope every now and again to rest her feet
upon as she climbed down.

In the Sa:nuwa’s nest were two young birds. The grandmother
had with her a hatchet of stone, and with it she killed the fledglings.
Then she threw the rope into the water and said, ‘“This rope must
become an Ugh(a)dhe:n(a)!’ (This was near Vdhi:guhi [‘pot in it
[liquid]-place’].) "

She saw the two big parent birds come back. When they found the
nest empty, they hovered about it in order to find out who had killed
their young ones. Then they saw the Ugh(a)dhe:n(a), and one bird

7 Olbrechts notes that this is called A?hlu:no: i, the meaning of which appears to be ‘chopped, one-place.’

8 Olbrechts’ note: ‘‘These Yellow Jackets were very big ones. Their body was that thick. M.[organ]
shows 40 cm. diam. [eter].”” Cf. Mooney (1900, p. 260) for another story of giant yellow jackets.

® Olbrechts’ phonetic transcription of the Cherokee term here is apparently aiming at atsi:sohi (‘it just
caught fire’), which term in Oklahoma would in most dialects be afsi:sdlohi. Fleabane (Erigeron cana-
dense) is probably meant.

10 See “The Nest of the Sa: nuwa,”’

11 Olbrechts’ note: ‘‘ ‘Suck’ is the place now called. The rock is covered with white stripes which are
said to be the manure from the birds. It is near ‘Pot in the Water.’ Sa:nuwo:yi [‘Sa:nuwa-place’ |\down
below.” 'Thisis8 miles below Chattanooga on the Tennessee River.

438 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [Buib. 196

seized it in its claws and flew up into the air with it while the other
bird kept striking pieces off the Ugh(a)dhe:n(a). As these pieces fell
to the ground, all of them became standing pillars of rock.”

MISCELLANEOUS LEGENDS
1.—A CHILD IS EATEN BY WOLVES

In olden times people did not know much about what was right or
wrong.

A man and his wife, and their baby that could just sit up, went
out to hunt. They came to a place in the wilderness where they made
their camp, and the man began to hunt. He killed enough deer for
both him and his wife to carry back home. They thought that it was
not possible to carry all the meat and the baby also, so they decided
to take the meat and to leave the baby. They put the baby upon the
top of the bark shelter and gave it some bones to suck. Then they
left.

When it was almost sunset, another man, who was also a hunter,
came to that place and saw the baby sitting there. He thought that
this baby had been left alone for just a little while, and that its parents
were about somewhere. So he went on his way home.

At home he told his wife of the baby he had seen, sitting as if
deserted, in the midst of the wilderness. His wife had no children of
her own, and she said, ‘‘I think they must have left that child up there
on purpose. You had better go back in the morning and bring it
home for us to keep.”

When the man went to the place in the morning, there was no baby
there, just blood all about and the footprints of a wolf. A wolf had
eaten the baby.

2.—A CHILD IS EATEN BY A TAME PANTHER

A man caught a young panther and kept him tied to a post. The
animal was very gentle.

One day the man went off to hunt. He stayed overnight in the
mountains, but he could not sleep. All night long he heard something
howling in the woods.

12 Olbrechts’ note: ‘‘M.forgan’s] grandmother, who told him the story, saw them when she came back
from West.”

One story in Mooney (1900, pp. 315-316) is approximately the same as the above; another one (ibid., p. 317)
is rather similar to the above. The motif of intrusion of a human being into the nest of a gigantic bird is
recorded in Swanton (1929) from Hitchiti (p. 90), Alabama (p.154), Koasati (p.193), and Natchez-Cherokee
(pp. 246-247) sources. The latter, as might be expected, is the closest to the Olbrechts version. There is
along Sa:nuwa (the word is usually Dhlani: gw(a) in the Oklahoma dialects) story in Kilpatrick and Kil-
patrick (1964, pp. 71-76).

No a0] .)~=—s«XHASTERN CHEROKEE FOLKTALES—KILPATRICK 439

Next morning he felt discouraged, and thought that this howling
meant that something had happened at home. When he got home,
he found that his child had been all torn up by the panther.

He shot the panther.

3.—THE WOMAN AND THE WOLVES

In olden times a woman who was menstruating was not allowed to
go into the mountains or the woods because wolves were very likely
to find a woman in that condition, just as rattlesnakes are.

One such woman, a very brave woman, had no fear and went into
the woods.

When she was returning, she noticed that wolves had gathered
and were following her. She saw them approaching, and she climbed
up a tree. She stood upon a limb of the tree almost all day and
throughout the whole night following. She did not dare to come
down, for the wolves stayed under the tree, just waiting for her to
fall off.

Next morning she felt very sleepy, and she was afraid that if she
fell asleep, she would fall from the tree. She had long hair, so she
parted it and tied it to a limb just above her so that if she fell, she
would not fall down where the wolves were.

The people, when they did not see the woman come back, went to
look for her. They found her hanging by her hair from the limb to
which she had tied herself.

She was dead.

4—A MAN IS KILLED BY TURKEYS

A man out in the woods came upon a great flock of turkeys. When
the turkeys caught sight of him, instead of fleeing from him, they
attacked him. He could not successfully defend himself against such
a number of birds that was in this flock. At last he grew weak, and
they killed him.

The people in the settlement wondered what had happened to the
man. They searched the woods and found his body. At first it was
believed that he had been slain by tribal enemies, but no human
footprints were to be seen about his body, only turkey tracks.

5.—A SKUNK CURES A MAN OF SMALLPOX

In olden times there were four men who went visiting a long way
off from where they lived. While they were visiting, the smallpox
appeared and killed many people.

The men became afraid and started back home, but one of them
had already contracted the disease and was growing very weak. He

440 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BULL. 196

could hardly walk, so his three companions decided to leave him.
So when they came to an open place in the forest, they gathered
together some dry leaves and placed the sick man upon them. They
told him that in 4 days they would come back for him, although they
did not intend to do this; for they thought that he would be dead
before then.

As the sick man lay there, he heard something in the distance
howling like a fox. Again he heard it. Soon he heard the sound of
an animal near him. Then the animal walked all over him, from his
feet to his head, urinating as it went. Again it did this, and then
once more it crept all over his body, from his feet to his head, and
then back again, urinating all the while.

He saw that it was a skunk.”

Next morning he was well. He went on to where his people lived.
They were very surprised to see him come back, for they thought
that he had died from the smallpox.

6.—THE PROPHECY CONCERNING WHITE MEN

Before the White people came to America, there lived an old man,
a very powerful magician. The people asked him, “Can you find out
how long the brown people are going to live here?”’ He said that he
could do this.

They found a piece of old rotten tree trunk, this long (60 cm.),
very dry. They set fire to one end of it, and it burned slowly toward
the other end. It all burned up, except for a small bit of it near the
other end.

They asked the old man what this was a sign of, and he said, “I
don’t know when, but strangers are going to come, and bad things
will happen. The whole of this log is where we live now. As you see,
it has nearly all been burned up. Just a few of us will remain in the
East. All the others will be driven toward the West like cattle.
But those that remain in the East will remain here as long as the
grass grows and the springs keep running.”

When they heard that, some of the people said, “If that is going
to happen, we might as well start now.’’ But they did not tell their
friends. ‘They told their friends that they were going out to hunt,
and their friends thought that they had merely gone to the woods.
But their friends never saw them again. In this way one family
after another would leave.

When they came to the brink of a big river, they could not cross
the water. They took cane, made splints of it, and made a canoe,
just as we make a basket. In that way they crossed the river.

18 Olbrechts jotted here “. . . and it spoke to him and said:’’; but he failed to record its statement.

eae EASTERN CHEROKEE FOLKTALES—KILPATRICK 441

MISCELLANEOUS STORIES
1—THE METAMORPHOSES OF THE LAZY MAN

There lived a man who did not like to work and who wanted to
live at ease. One day he took notice of some pismires “ and thought
to himself, ‘““Now look at those pismires! What an easy life they
have! They do not have to work, and they never have to go to war.”
So he wished so strongly to become a pismire that he became one.

But he soon found out that pismires have to work very hard for
a living, and often they marched out against enemy ants and engaged
in fierce battles. So he decided to become a human being again.

“Trees do not have to do anything at all,” he thought. ‘They
draw their living from the earth.”” So he became a tree.

But he was buffeted by the wind, and unprotected, he suffered
in the intense cold of winter, and he was always in danger of being
chopped down for firewood and burned. He decided to resume his
human form.

“The life of a deer is a happy one,” he thought. ‘He peacefully
browses all day upon grass and leaves.”” He became a deer.

But he lived in constant terror of hunters and panthers, and he
decided to become a human being once more.

He became a rock, only to be rent by lightning and chopped by
men seeking flint for their arrowheads. As a fish, he was endangered
by fishermen; as a steer, he was overworked by his harsh master; as
a bear, he was pursued by hunters. He became a bird, but he had to
be constantly on the alert in order not to be eaten by chicken hawks.
No matter what he became, he could not escape toil or danger.

So he decided that nothing in the world really has an easy existence,
and he remained a human being.’®

2.—A LESSON FROM NATURE (1)

There was a young man who was very lazy. He fished all of the
time.

One day he came to the bank of the river and down in the water
saw some kind of fish carrying astone.® The fish put the stone down,
then went and got another stone and placed it beside the first one.
The fish kept on carrying stones until soon it had built up quite a pile
of them.

The young man suddenly became ashamed of himself. He looked
at his hands and his arms, and he said, “I am strong. I am going to
go to work.”

4 Do:sv:dé2li (‘ant’).

15 The above bears resemblances to a Natchez-Cherokee story in Swanton (1929, p. 242).
18 Probably the stone roller (Campostoma).

442 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 196

When he went home, he told his family what he had seen and what
he had decided to do. He became a great worker.
He learned something from the fish.

3.—A LESSON FROM NATURE (2)

There lived a lazy boy. Every morning he took his fishing pole
and basket and went to the river to fish. He stayed there all day,
even if he did not catch anything. He went about almost naked,
dirty, and with long hair.

One day while he was walking in the brushwood, he noticed a bird
in the crotch of a tree. It had something in its bill. Then another
bird flew in, and it had something in its bill. The boy wondered why
they were carrying things. Then he saw that they were building
something nice and round. Although they had no hands, only legs,
they managed to do this.

At a shallow place in the river he saw a big fish, a red head, swimming
swiftly about gathering gravel. He watched it at work. He thought
of the condition of the fish; it had neither hands nor legs.

Then understanding came to him. “I have arms and legs and a
mind—more than they have!’ he thought. So he broke his fishing
pole and threw it into the water, than threw the basket in after it
and went home.

It was early spring. He took an ax and cut down trees and cleared
land. He borrowed watermelon and muskmelon seed and planted
them. In the fall he had ever so many melons, and these he carried
to market under his arms, two ata time, and sold them. With the
money he received for them, he bought clothes. He washed himself.

The next year he planted more melons, and it was not long before
he became one of the most prosperous young men in the settlement.

That is what he learned from the birds and the fish.

4.—THE WHITE MAN AND THE INDIAN

A White man and an Indian met and sat down together upon a log.
The White man sat upon the right side, the Indian sat upon the left.

The White man kept moving over, pushing the Indian, until the
Indian was sitting upon the very edge of the log. Still the White
man pushed.

The Indian said, “I can’t sit anymore. I suppose this is what
will happen to us.”

He meant that the White people would push the Indians out
toward the West.

No s0) ))~=S:«XEASTERN CHEROKEE FOLKTALES—KILPATRICK 443

5.—THE WHITES, THE INDIANS, AND THE NEGROES

When people first began to live, there were Whites and Indians.

Somebody ” came to the people bringing a printed book. He first
offered it to the Indians, but they didn’t like it. Then He turned to
the Whites and offered them the book. They took it.

He also offered a bundle of barks and roots, which was medicine,
to the White people, but they did not wantit. He then turned around
to where the Indians were, offered it to them, and they took it.

There were people who did not want either the book or the bundle,
and laughed so much at both that their faces turned all black and their
eyes white with laughing. ‘Those were the black people.®

6.—THE REVENGE OF THE OLD MEN

In olden times there was once a gadu:gi working, hoeing corn
for a man (people always helped each other). For dinner there was
soup made of dried young yellow jackets. The old men in the
gadu: gi were very fond of this soup.

The young men ran in front of the old men and joked with them.
“We are going to have stinging bugs [di:n(a)datsv: sgi] to eat!” they
said.

The old men became jealous of the young men and decided that
they would punish them. When the young men sat down to dinner
and dipped out the yellow jackets, the insects came to life and stung
the young men all over. Howling, the young men rushed outside.

When the old men came in, they did not say anything, but just
laughed and sat down. All of the yellow jackets came back into the
soup, and the old men ate them.

Then the old men asked the young men why they did not eat any
of the “stinging bugs,” and one by one the young men shamefacedly
came back and sat down. The yellow jackets did not come to life
again.

7.—SEVEN IRISHMEN GO GOLD-DIGGING

Seven Irishmen came to this country because they had heard that
there was gold in the rivers.

One night as they walked along a river, they saw what they thought
was gold lying in it. It was the moon that shone upon the surface
of the water, but they did not know that. They got sticks and tried

17 Olbrechts’ note: “Une: hlang:hi.” This is the term for the “Provider,’”’ the Supreme Being,

18 Oral variants of this story are frequently encountered among the Five Civilized Tribes of Oklahoma.
There are two Creek versions of it in Swanton (1929, pp. 74-75).

19 The North Carolina permanent organization called the gadu-:gi has no counterpart in the main body of
Cherokees in Oklahoma, among whom a gadu-:gi is a temporarily constituted group created to perform a
specific task of a charitable or a public welfare nature.

444 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 196

to fish it out, but as they did not succeed, they decided upon another
plan.

There was a tree standing near and overhanging the water. So,
grasping a limb, one hung from the tree; another one grasped the legs
of the first one; still another grasped the legs of the second one; and
so on. When all were hanging this way, and the seventh one was
getting ready to try to get the gold out of the water, the one on top
said, ‘Hold on tight! I must spit upon my hands!”

So he and all of the others tumbled into the water.”

8—CORN AND BEANS*

In a wild spot near a river, beautiful singing was heard (v). This
is what was being sung:
“Tso :gin(v)tsv :sdi agwadu ;tiha

to marry, he me I I want.’’
I want to marry.

Everyone went to find out who it was that was singing. Everyone
saw that it was a woman, a beautiful young woman.

The Panther went up to her and said, “I will marry you.”

“What can you do? What food can you give me?” she asked.

“Deer meat,” replied the Panther.

“T don’t eat deer meat. I don’t like deer meat,” said the woman.

Next the Wolf came to her and said, “I will marry you.”

“What can you do for me?” asked the young woman.

“T can give you meat that I have stolen,” replied the Wolf.

“T don’t want things that have been stolen,” said the beautiful
young woman.

Then the Wildcat said to her, “Why don’t you marry me? I will
catch mice and moles for you.”

“T don’t live on such meat,” she said.

Finally a young man came forward and said, ‘‘You can be my wife,
and I will feed you roasting ears and beans.”

This made the young woman very happy, and she arose and threw
her arms around him.

ETHNOGRAPHIC NOTES
1—THE CONVOCATION OF CHIEFS

In olden times the Seven Clans gathered in the ga:dhi. Each clan
had to be there. (Each settlement had a chief, but there was also a
principal chief.)

20 als we man’s story constitutes the ending of a Natchez-Cherokee narrative in Swanton (1929,

64). The Irishman as a stock comic figure is well represented in Cherokee folktales as yet uncollected.
Mnere is a longish tale of this genre in the Barber Collection.

No 30) )~=s«*XBASTERN CHEROKEE FOLKTALES—KILPATRICK 445

Figure 14.—Sketches by Olbrechts illustrating the method used to construct a
dance house. Top, profile of wall and roof; center, plan for laying of ground
timbers; bottom, unidentified.

The Chief 7! addressed the people, each in turn. One chief spoke
just a few minutes: “Be peaceful; do not fight; do not have anything
to do with whisky, etc.” Then another chief spoke, and then another,
until seven chiefs *? had spoken.

After the people had been addressed, the peace pipe with seven
stems was smoked.”

2.—THE ORIGIN OF THE NAME OF THE DANCE HOUSE

The missionaries had come; they wanted to build a meetinghouse.
The people wanted to have a dance house nearby. It was built of logs
in a circle and joined at the top like rafters [fig. 14].

21 The chief of the settlement.

22 The headmen of each of the seven clans,

23 Olbrechts’ note: ‘‘M.[organ] thinks it was of clay: has never seen one, A rock called ganv-hnawa
(‘pipe’) was used to make carved pipes from. M.forgan] still makes them. On second consideration he
thinks it possible that the peace-pipe was of this kind.’’

747-014—66—_29

446 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 196

When the dance house had been built, the people wondered what to
callit. They all gave the matter thought, but could not arrive at a name.
& When an old woman heard that they had built a place to dance,
she jokingly said, ‘Well, gé:dhahi: yd (‘maiden, I-still’)!”

The people laughed, and one said, ‘‘Let’s call this place the ga: dhti:1.
It’s a good name.” *

LITERATURE CITED

BaRrBER COLLECTION.
. Cherokee myths in Sequoyah syllabary. MS. in private collection
of editors.
BusuHNELL, Davin L., sR.
1909. The Choctaw of Bayou Lacomb, St. Tammany parish, Louisiana.
Bur. Amer. Ethnol. Bull. 48.
DorsEy, JAMES OWEN, and SWANTON, JOHN R.
1912. A dictionary of the Biloxi and Ofo languages. Bur. Amer. Ethnol.
Bull. 47.
GILBERT, WILLIAM HARLEN, JR.
1943. The Eastern Cherokees. Bur. Amer. Ethnol. Bull. 133, Anthrop.
Pap. No. 23, pp. 169-414.
Hewitt, J. N. B.
1910. Orenda. In Handbook of American Indians north of Mexico. Fred-
erick Webb Hodge, ed. Bur. Amer. Ethnol. Bull. 30, pt. 2, pp.
147-148.
Howarp, JAMEs.
1959. Altamaha Cherokee folklore and culture. Journ. Amer. Folklore,
vol. 72, pp. 134-138.
KILPaTrRick, JAcK F., Epiror.
1966. The Wahnenauhi manuscript: Historical sketches of the Cherokees
together with some of their customs, traditions and superstitions.
Bur. Amer. Ethnol. Bull. 196, Anthrop. Pap. No. 77.
KILPaTrick, JACK FrepErick, and KinpatTrick, ANNA GRITTS.
1964. Friends of Thunder. Southern Meth. Univ. Press, Dallas, Tex.
. Run toward the nightland. Southern Meth. Univ. Press, Dallas,
Tex. [In press.]
Mooney, JAMES.
1888. Myths of the Cherokees. Journ. Amer. Folklore, vol. 2, pp. 88-106.
1891. Sacred formulas of the Cherokees. 7th Ann. Rep. Bur. Amer. Ethnol.,
1885-86, pp. 302-397.
1900. Myths of the Cherokee. 19th Ann. Rep. Bur. Amer. Ethnol., pt. 1,
pp. 3-576.
Mooney, JAMES, and OLBREcHTS, Frans M.
1932. The Swimmer manuscript. Bur. Amer. Ethnol. Bull. 99.

£ % Needless to say, this charming bit of folk etymology is not to be taken seriously. The editors suggest
that the several terms for the Cherokee townhouse may be derived from the verb stem -dhi- (‘to insert it
{long]’), a reference to a pole stuck into the ground. In Oklahoma the “‘stomp ground,” the central meeting
place and dancing place of the community, traditionally had a pole in the center of the area—a return,
perhaps, to something antedating the heptagonal.

No 80). )~)=)s«xEASTERN CHEROKEE FOLKTALES—KILPATRICK 447

Payne, JoHN Howarp.
. MS. collection. Newberry Library, Chicago, II.
Speck, FRANK G.
1907. The Creek Indians of Taskigi Town. Mem. Amer. Anthrop. Assn.,

vol. 2, pt. 2.
1909. Ethnology of the Yuchi Indians. Publs. Univ. Pa. Mus., vol. 1, No.
ie

Speck, Frank G., and Broom, LEONARD.
1951. Cherokee dance and drama. Univ. Calif. Press, Berkeley and Los
Angeles, Calif.
Swanton, JoHN R.
1922. Harly history of the Creek Indians and their neighbors. Bur. Amer.
Ethnol. Bull. 73.
1929. Myths and tales of the Southeastern Indians. Bur. Amer. Ethnol.

Bull. 88.

1946. The Indians of the Southeastern United States. Bur. Amer. Ethnol.
Bull. 137.

1952. The Indian tribes of North America. Bur. Amer. Ethnol. Bull.
145.

Tren Kats, Herman F. C.
1889. Legends of the Cherokees. Journ. Amer. Folklore, vol. 2, pp. 53-55.
TERRELL, JAMES W.
1892. The demon of consumption. Journ. Amer. Folklore, April-June,
pp. 125-126.
TookeER, ELISABETH.
1964. An ethnography of the Huron Indians, 1615-1649. Bur. Amer.
Ethnol. Bull. 190.
UWE:DA:SADH (1).
. Medicine book, no. 25. MS. in private collection of editors.
WAHNENAUHI Manuscript. See Kinpatrrick, Jack F., Eprror.
WITTHOFT, JOHN, and HapLock, WENDELL 8.
1946. Cherokee-Iroquois Little People. Journ. Amer. Folklore, vol. 59,
pp. 413-422.

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INDEX

Abnormalities, biological, 354-356

Abortion, 349

Accidents, 355 (table), 356 (table)

Acorns, 120,163

Adair, James, 192

Adair, John; Deuschle, Kurt; and Mc-
Dermott, Walsh, 356

Adam’s Creek, N.C., 223

“‘Affairs,’”’ 351-3538, 359

Afterbirth, burial of, 250

eae: 120, 163, 229, 233, 317-318,

5

effect of on schooling, 281
Alabama Indians, 406, 408, 438
Albritton, Claude, 9
Albuquerque, N. Mex., 334, 356, 370
Alfalfa, 346, 348
Allen, Gordon, 356
Almond, Macon County, N.C., 431, 435
Alum, used as dye mordant, 344
mere: Baptist Publication Society,

181

“American Dream,’ participation in,
300
American Philosophical Society, 9
Ammunition depots, 371
Ancestor, lineal, 367
Anderson, Rufus, 202, 223
Anglo-Americans, 334, 335, 340, 342,
348, 372
non-Mormon, 334, 335, 336, 338,
339, 341, 373
Animals, 189, 346
domestic, ownership of, 70
feet of, 389
large female, Cherokee colloquialism,
397

Anklets, silver, 191
Antelope, 120, 189, 196
Ants, 441
red, cause of death, 356
Apache Indians, 117, 120, 121, 122, 123,
124, 125, 140, 145, 148, 150, 153,
159, 160, 162, 164, 165, 166, 167,
168, 169, 170, 171, 333, 334
Chiricahua, 119, 333, 334, 336, 342,
350, 351
Cibecue, 119, 146, 154, 155
ethics of, 169, 170
Jicarilla, 119
Kiowa, 119
Lipan, 119
Mansos, 119
Mescalero, 119, 225, 334, 336, 342
Northern Tonto, 119
San Carlos, 119
Southern Tonto, 119
Western, 117, 119-121, 151, 153,
161, 162, 164, 165, 167, 172, 372
White Mountain, 119, 154, 155

Arkansas River, 196

Arkansas Territory, 198

Armlets, silver, 191

Armor, 344

Arrowheads, 348, 417, 418, 441

Arrows, 189, 193, 345, 346, 389, 393,
395, 396, 411-414, 420, 422, 429,
434

Arrow straighteners, 343, 344

Ashville, N.C., 222, 223, 231, 238, 251,
253, 255, 267, 271

Atarque, Spanish-American village, 334,
337, 374

Athapascan tribes, Southern, 117, 119

Aunt, maternal, 152, 290

a phe 249, 254, 256, 262, 345,

4
Awls, bone, 344

Ax, 442

Babies, see Infants.

Bags, medicine, 344, 419

Bailey, Flora, 345, 373

Balentine, Rev. Hamilton, 181

Balen Nancy, sister of Wahnenauht,
1

1
Barber Collection, 387, 444
Barn, log, 252
Basketmaking, 239, 241, 336, 344, 345
Baskets, 126, 142, 152, 155, 156, 158,
159, 172, 188, 189, 346, 349, 442
made by women, 344
pouring of, 158
Basswood, 397
Bathing, see Sanitation.
Battens, 343
Beads, 395, 424
ade:la, 11
divining: method of holding, 433

(fig.
turquoise, 143
worn around neck, 191
Beadwork, 348
Beans, 120, 159, 165, 236, 252, 257, 346,
348, 391, 399, 425, 444
Bear, 120, 150, 387, 389, 400, 413, 414,
416, 422, 427, 428, 441
claw of, 296
hunt for, 413, 414
Beaver, 397, 425
Bedding, 344
Bedrooms, 259
Beds, 72, 77, 240, 247, 256, 257, 259
Bedsteads, iron, 345
Beef, 142, 146, 169, 236
Beer, 123, 141, 348
Bees, 250
Beetle, 397
Beets, 348
Bellah, Robert N., 358

449

450

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY

[BuLu. 196]

Bells, attached to walking stick, 145, | Brown, John, Cherokee, 202

148, 153
Belts, 191, 200
Bendix, Reinhard, 247, 300, 306
Bendix, Reinhard, and Lipset, 8. M., 313
Benge, Lucy, mother of Wahnenauhz,

Bernstein, Symme, 117

Berries, 192, 249, 252

Bible, 27, 46, 187

Bidaga, Ramah Navaho leader, 335,
369, 370

Big Cove, 60, 226, 233, 235, 236, 238,
240, 241, 251, 262, 271, 282, 287,
291, 301, 315, 318, 385

Bi keh thi ze (‘she is dressed up’), 141,
147-149, 152, 153, 170

Bird, Ollie, 291

Birds, 189, 346, 441, 442

soup of, 417

Birdtown, Indian town, 48, 235, 267,
297, 318, 424, 434, 436

Bi til tih (night before dance’) 141,
149-150, 152, 170

Blackburn, Rev. Gideon,
202

Black Coat, second chief, 204
Blackfoot Indians, 235
Black Fox, see Ino:li.
Black Rock Agency, res 336, 370, 371
Blaker, Margaret C.,
Blankenship, Molly Me 228
Blanket, 147, 148, “159. 159, 256, 257
symbol of wealth, 166
Blind, asylum for the, 209
See also Disease.
Blood bank, 307
Blood groups, 357
Blood Indians, 235
Blood pressure, 356, 357
Boar, wild black, 32
Bone, 343, 344, 355
exostoses, 355
Booth, Esther, wife of Rev. Ard Hoyt,
181

missionary,

Boudinot, Elias, Cherokee scholar, 109,
203, 208, 228
Bowls, 192, 387
Bows, 189, 193, 343-346, 389, 411, 412,
413, 414, 429
Bowstrings, sinew, 344
Boyd, William C., 342
Boys, 193, 350, 424, 442
cause of death of, 356
Bread, bean, 250
cornmeal, 192, 250
Bridges, swinging, 223
Brooches, silver, 191
Brother, 125, 127, 135, 136, 308
biological, 362, 373
clan, 373
half-, 385
wife ‘of, 125, 126, 137
Brother-in-law, 362, 369, 370, 373, 392
Brown, Catherine, Cherokee, 202, 223
Brown, David, Cherokee, 180, 202

Brown, Rachel, daughter of Major
Lowrey, 180

Brownies, belief in, 297

Bruner, Edward, 224, 314, 372

Bryson City, N.C., 252, 254, 255, 259,
273, 280, 308, 406, 430, 431, 435

Buckeye, carried for luck, 306

Buckskin, 150, 152, 153, 154, 155, 156,
157, 158, 159, 171, 172, 344, 417

danced on by Apache girl, 146, 166,

1
Buffaloes, 189, 196, 243
Building materials, 223, 252, 256, 259
See also Dwellings.
Bulbs, 346
Bureau of American Ethnology, 5, 6, 7,
9, 48, 60, 179, 182, 331
Bureau of Indian Affairs, 233, 250, 273,
304, 335, 370
employee of, 250, 273, 300, 308
Bureau of Land Management, 346
Burroes, 347
Buzzard, 188, 386
feather of, used against witches, 187

Caballo, Pete, 362
Cabins, 121, 166, 189, 197, 223, 257, 364,
423

log, 418

Calhoun, Morgan, 385, 386, 393, 413,
427, 428, 432, 434, 436, 487, 438,
445

Calusa Indians, 17

Campfire, 432

Camp Grant, on San Pedro River, 121

Camps, 364, 423

Candy, 152, 158, 166, 169, 172, 250

Cane, plant, 239, 440

Cane, walking, 143, 144 (fig.), 147, 148,
149, 150, 152, 153, 155, 156, 157,
158, 160, 162, 165, 169, 171, 172

See also Gish ih zha ha aldeh.

Canning equipment, 348

Canoe, 295, 419, 440

Cardinal points, ribbons representing,
148, 144, 145

Carpenters, 253, 304

Carrington, Henry B., 230, 231

Carrizo community, 129, 154, 155

Carrots, 348

Cartons, cardboard, 152, 156, 158, 247,
254

Castration, 70

Cataluchee Peak, N.C., 430

Catawba Indians, 17, 229

Catlin, George, 191

Cats, 189, 256, 306

Cattail pollen, used in ceremonies, 126,
171

Cattle, 128, 159, 196, 197, 200, 204, 206,
252, 303, 347, 440, 441
butchered for festival, 137
cared for by men, 334, 341, 348, 349
raising of, 120, 205

INDEX

451

nee Creek, Macon County, | Cherokee Indians—Continued
1

Cedar Creek, 128, 129, 138
Cedar posts, 136
Centers, Richard, 313
Cereals, 259, 348
See also Wheat.
Ceremonies, 120, 121, 166, 167, 349, 360
Blessing Way, 349
costume for, 149
Cuan: 120, 1384, 161, 162, 171, 182,
270

definition of, 169

Enemy Way, 369

hunting, 120

massage as part of, 156, 163

moving camp, 120

Nja njieesh (‘she is painted’), 129,
172

paraphernalia for, 142, 143-144
(fiz.), 146, 147, 148, 151, 152, 171,
344-346

practitioners for, 349

puberty, Apache, sce Na th es.

religious, 126, 141

teaching about, 124

warfare, 120

Chafe, Wallace L., 9

Chafe, Wallace L., and Kilpatrick, Jack
F., 8, 61

Chairs, 248, 415, 416

Chamberlin, Rev. Amory Nelson, 181

Changing Woman, see [h sta nedleheh.

Cheoah, Cherokee settlement, 229

Cherok, see Cherokee Indians.

Cherokee Agency, 228, 318

See also United States Government.

Cherokee County, Okla., 99, 189, 233,
235, 434

Cherokee Executive Committee, 211

Cherokee Female Seminary, 181, 182,
212

Cherokee High School, 227, 241, 250,
252, 281, 282, 283

Cherokee Historical Association, 239

Cherokee Indian Reservation, 221, 222
(map), 233

Cherokee Indians, 9, 17, 181, 184, 193,
194, 195, 196, 198, 203, 204, 209,
234-235, 279, 282, 314, 430, 431,
432, 433, 434, 435

aboriginal culture, 181

appropriation made for, 208

as landowners, 233

blood degrees, 234 (table), 235, 238
(table), 245, 253, 307

blood requirements, 232

delegation of, to Congress, 180, 206

Eastern, 5, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 15, 20,

incorporation of, 230, 312
Lower, 224
loyalty to ancestry, 182
mixblood, 228, 229, 232, 235 (table),
236, 238, 239, 240, 245
Mountain, 228
North Carolina, 5, 13, 92, 221, 222,
223, 226, 228, 232, 233, 235, 237,
239, 242, 262, 271, 279, 280, 286,
291, 298, 308, 313, 315, 317, 318,
319, 390, 436
Oklahoma, 7, 47, 50, 97, 388, 390,
424, 425, 426, 429, 430, 443
residence requirements, 232
“Rocky Mountain,” 209
Upper, 224
Western, 8, 26, 204, 208, 408, 411
See also Indians; Indians, Cherokee;
specific subject headings.
Cherokee Information Center, 292
Cherokee Male Seminary, 181
Cherokee Nation, 182, 183, 195, 196,
198, 201, 202, 203, 205, 206, 211
constitutions of, 180, 209, 230
dissolution of, 209
petition of, to Congress, 206
Cherokee Nation Papers, MS., 6, 8
Cherokee Phoenix, Cherokee newspaper,
180, 202, 203
“Cherokee Primer,’’ 27
Cherokee Removal, 7, 13, 62, 203, 204,
205, 206, 208, 228, 230, 299, 314
death toll of, 207, 208
Cherokee Temperance
180
See also Intoxicants. Intoxication;
Cherry Creek Indians, 184
Chestnuts, 192, 422
Chewing gum, 152, 346
Chickamauga Creek, 202
Chickasaw Indians, 17
Chickens, 252, 256, 257
Chiefs, 19, 194, 202, 208, 204, 206,
207, 208, 335, 369, 370, 388,
414, 420, 422
Cherokee Assistant Principal, 202,
203
Cherokee Principal, 202, 203
convocation of, 444-445
first, 230
principal, 444, 445
salary of, 204
second, 230
Wolftown, 51, 106
Childbirth, 269, 350-351
beliefs regarding, 250, 306
injury from, 355 (table)
planned, 296

Organization,

60, 70, 78, 99, 105, 268, 221-223, | Childhood, 161
224, 226, 227, 230, 236, 311, 320—| Children, 249, 250, 252, 256-257, 260,

321, 385, 408, 436

fullblood, 229, 232, 235 (table), 238,
240, 241, 245, 253, 254, 260, 298,
a 304, 308, 314 (graph), 315,

264-267, 281, 284, 294, 352, 366,
367, 423, 424
adopted, 366, 368
one are 249, 250, 261, 268, 273,
4

452

Children—Continued
day care center for, 319
disciplined by threats, 249, 292
illegitimate, 254, 304, 306, 361
parental control of, 292
twin, 351
White, 227, 294
Chilocco Institute, in Oklahoma, 282,
284, 287
Choctaw Indians, 181, 195, 424
Christianity, 120, 180, 181, 195, 196,
202, 205, 337
See also Religion.
Chuska Mountains, 333
Cibecue, Apache community, 121-122,
123, 128, 129, 135, 188, 149,
153, 155, 160, 163, 164, 169
Cibecue Creek, 121, 128, 142, 145
Cibecue Massacre, 121
Cigarettes, 122, 123, 152, 154, 342
Civilian Conservation Corps, 237
Civil War, see War between the States.
Clans:
Bitter Water, 359
“brother” through, 362, 373
Cherokee, 184, 203
Deer, 55, 56
exogamy of, violation of, 359
father’s, 130, 185, 359
leaders of, 162
“linked,” 358, 361
loyalties through, 168
Meadow, 359
members of, 133, 146, 164, 165,
185, 358
mother’s, 359
obligations of, 168, 184, 358
organization of, 123, 131, 168
papa between, 130-131 (fig.),
relatives through, help given by,
125, 126, 127, 133, 134 (fig.), 146,
147, 164, 167, 168, 358
Seven, 444
“sister’’ through, 362
ties through, 164, 167, 185, 358
Western Apache, 130, 131, 134
Clay, uses of, 344
Clerk, 59, 60
tribal enrollment, 232
Wolftown, 13, 19, 23, 51
See also Ino:li.
Clinics, see Hospital.
Cloth, 87, 88, 132, 335
calico, 20, 53, 88
unbleached, 252
Clothing, 64, 69, 78, 87, 104, 190, 223,
256, 344, 348
animal skin, 190
burial, 62, 92
coat, 96
diapers, 248, 263
dresses, 76, 147, 152, 154, 191, 336
featherwork, 190
garters, 191
given to poor, 301, 302

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Clothing—Continued

gloves, 88
jacket, worn by women, 191
leggings, 190, 191
provided by churches, 240
serape, fringed and beaded buck-
skin, 145, 147, 160, 163
shirts, 190, 191, 344
shorts, 142
skirts, 191
trousers, 222
vegetable fiber, 190
white buckskin, 96, 97
Coca-Cola, 250
Codere, Helen, 315
Coe, Joffre, 227
Coffee, 20, 138, 142, 146, 293, 342, 348
Coffin, 87, 88
Coins, used in Na th es, 158, 166, 169
Collar, bead, 152
College, aspirations toward, 283-285
Collier, John, 286, 287, 316
Colson, Elizabeth, 244, 316
Conjurer, 6, 68, 78, 83, 185, 186, 200,
253, 273, 389, 417, 418
curing, 388
powers of, 186, 270
Cooking, 192, 348, 349
Cooley, Dick, 117, 123
Cords, wool, 344
Corkran, David H., 58, 193
Corn, 120, 126, 142, 146, 158, 159, 161,
163, 165, 166, 169, 172, 187, 188,
189, 190, 193, 236, 252, 253, 269,
291, 345, 346, 348, 391, 425, 443,
444
con-nau-ha-nah (Apache dish made
of corn), 192
pollen, used in ceremonies, 171
shoots, ground for tulipay, 138, 172
work offered for, 25, 97-98
Cornbread, 250
Corncobs, placed over placenta, 296
Cornecrib, 252
Cornmeal, 192, 194, 250, 252
Corrals, log, 347
Cot, iron, 247, 256, 257
Cotton, 94, 96, 348
Cotton cake, 348
Cottonwood, 121, 136, 145
Council, 203, 209, 249, 253
Cherokee National, 198, 209, 211,
212
members of, 14, 19
Navaho tribal, 370
of June 1839, 208
tribal, 128, 231, 232, 234
Wolftown, 10, 14, 15, 17, 20, 26, 31,
50, 54, 90, 101, 106
Coup, counting, 243
Courage, high regard for, 185
Cousin, 149, 164, 290, 291
cross-, 137, 138, 358, 3738
husband of, 164
parallel, 362
Cowboys, 123, 128

INDEX

Cowboy Springs, 137
Cowives, 365
Cows, milk, 252, 347
Cox, C. M., 88
Coyotepos, Western Apache group, 119
Coyotes, 346
Cradleboards, 138
Craft shops, 238, 318
Crawfish, 297
Credit, difficult to obtain, 254
Creek Indians, 184, 194, 195, 391, 392,
406, 408, 416, 420, 427, 443
Creek War, 106, 194, 195
Crimes:
breaking of clan laws, 185
breaking of marriage laws, 185
childhood, 249, 286, 292
defaleation of funds, 17-18
misconduct, 103-105
murder, 184, 206, 355, 356
property damage, 370
public whippings, as punishment
for, 209
running away, 286
sexual assault, 370
theft, 67-68, 87, 92
Crook, General, 121
Crowbar, 156
Crow Indians, 244
Crownpoint, N. Mex., 336
Crows, 386, 397, 430
Crutches, 240
Cullowhee, N.C., 280, 287
Cultivator, 252, 345
Cuming, Sir Alexander, treaty negoti-
ated by, 193

Dale, Edward E., and Litton, Gaston
L., 228
Dalonega, gold discovered near, 205
Dance ground, 141, 142, 143, 146, 147,
149, 152, 154, 158, 159, 160
arrangement of, 135, 137 (diagram)
bonfire for, 139, 149
preparation of, 126, 128, 133, 135-
138, 168, 171
Dance house, 398, 417, 418, 431, 444,
446

construction of, 445 (fig.), 446
Dancers, 149, 417
Dances, 202, 249, 404, 407, 411, 413,
414, 417, 418, 424, 425
bi goh ji taé (‘half-night dance’), 135,
137, 1388-141, 146, 148, 149, 170
camp for, 135
ceremonial, 126
Eagle, 398, 413
eS 128, 138, 134, 1385, 137,
1

Gan, 154

Green Corn, 184, 193, 197

partners for, selected by women,
139

Sealp, 432

social, 126, 138, 139, 149

453

Dances—Continued
square, 97
Stomp, 193, 446
Sunrise, 124
women’s, 435
Dart test, administered to Ramah Nav-
aho, 372
Daughter, 125, 126, 129, 162, 292, 299,
356, 363, 403, 416, 419
Dawes Act, 335
Death-Angel, tax of, 207
Deaths, 355-357, 363
beliefs regarding, 162, 250
Debts, 92
against estate of deceased, 70
litigation over, 56-58
Navaho, 348
surety for, 76, 77, 78
to deceased persons, 101
warning against, 54-56
Deer, 120, 146, 161, 188, 189, 196, 346,
389, 401, 405, 416, 421, 428, 429,
432, 433, 434, 4387, 438, 441, 444
meat, 159, 194
sinew, 129, 139, 144 (fig.)
Deer-place (Kawiyi), 56
Delaware Indians, 184
Descent, Navaho, 358, 359
Dialects, see Language.
Diebold, Richard, Jr., 117
Digging sticks, 343
Diseases or wounds:
acne, 159
appendicitis, 355 (table)
asthma, 271
behavior prompted by, 266-274,
275, 276 (table)
cancer, 186, 269, 270, 271, 355
cardiovascular, 356
cataracts, 354
cat bite, 268
causes of, 295
cerebral hemorrhage, 355
chickenpox, 354
colds, 268, 271
colitis, 356 (table)
constipation, 346
created by sorcery, 403
cuts, 270
degenerative, 355 (table)
diabetes, 260, 270, 271, 272, 275
diphtheria, 261, 355
duodenitis, 356 (table)
earache, 268
eye, 263, 354, 355
fear of, 123
fevers, 268, 271
gastritis, 356 (table)
gonorrhea, 354
heart, 355 (table), 356 (table)
hernia, 263
hives, 249, 268
infection, foot, 258
infectious, 354, 355 (table)
influenza, 261, 354, 355 (table)
intestinal, 354, 355 (table)

454

Diseases or wounds—Continued
kidney, 269
lesions, vascular, 356 (table)
malaria, 204
measles, 354
mouth abscesses, 355
mouth disorders, 354
neoplasms, malignant, 356 (table)
nephritis and nephrosis, 356 (table)
night blindness, 354
pneumonia, 355 (table), 356 (table)
poison ivy, 251
polio, 280
prevention of, 260-263
pyorrhea, 354
reptile or insect bites, 200, 356
respiratory, 354, 355 (table)
rheumatism, 186
skin infections, 354
smallpox, 261, 263, 439, 440
snake, protection from, 150
sores, 346
spinal curvature, 355
stomachache, 345
syphilis, 354
tetanus, 261
toothache, 270, 346
trachoma, 354

tuberculosis, 260, 261, 354, 355
(table), 356 (table)

tumors, 355

typhoid, 355 (table)

whooping cough, 261, 354, 355

(table)
worms, 257, 261
Dishes, 257, 258
Disposition, good, required of girls, 163—
165

Disputes, settlement of, 369
Divination, practice of, 349
with beads, 433 (fig.)
with stone, 413, 417, 424
Divorce, 361, 363-365, 366, 367
Doctors, 74
Indian, 200, 225, 249, 251, 257, 267,
268, 269, 270, 271, 272, 273, 276,
295, Bal
non- Indian, 225, 249, 251, 268, 269,
270, 972-274, 276, 277
Publie Health Ser vice, 271, 273, 276
(table)
Dogs, 138, 250, 256, 400, 418, 419
Donaldson, Thomas, 230, 231, 232
Drills, 343
Drinking tube, 144 (fig.), 145, 147, 148,
160, 165
Drummers, 148, 152, 153, 154, 156, 159
Drums, 139, 146, 147, 148, 152, 153, 190,
398
construction of, 139
Ducks, 189, 196, 256, 410
Duke University, 9, 230
Dwellings, 128, 191, 226, 247-248, 255,
256, 257, 259, 348°
cinder-block, 257, 259
clapboard, 252

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[BuLL. 196]

Dwellings—Continued
construction of, 223, 344
cottage, 226
doors in, 256
fires in, 191, 347
frame, 250, 252
furnishings of, 50-52, 247, 254, 256,
257, 260, 346
improvement i in, 196
log, 256, 347
low-rent, 320
modern “ranch style,” 223
roofing for, 252
roughhewn lumber, 256
windows in, 256, 347
winter, 191, 192
See also Farms; Hogan; Shades;
Shelters; Wickiups.
Dwight Mission Press, 181
Dyes, vegetable, 190, 344, 346

Eagle feather, 145, 146, 147, 148, 160,
161, 162, 163, 165
Eagles, 189, 386, 402, 403
Eagle tailfeathers, 143, 144 (figs.), 145
gift of, 129, 132
See also Cane, walking; Na tht esn.
Earrings, 191
Eastern Cherokee Reservation, 401, 436
Education, 203, 209, 233, 279, 280, 281
Cherokee aspirations for, 279-285,
288 (table)
Eastern Cherokee refiections on,
225, 281, 285-289
girl’s, economic, 163
program for research in Indian, 341
responsibility for, assumed by Fed-
eral Government, 231
vocational, 283, 288
Eggs, 259
Ela, Swain County, N.C., 401, 424
Electricity, 260, 348
Elk, 120, 189
El Morro area, 335
Employment, 238
Civil Service, 239, 241, 252,
273, 302, 348
factory, 235, 320
motel, 222, 237, 238, 254, 317
restaurants, 252, 254, 273, 318
sales personnel, 237
service industries, 238 (table), 291,
317, 319-320
stores, 222, 232, 233, 305
tourism, 235, 237, 238, 250, 318, 319
tribal, 239
wage labor, 235, 236, 348, 349
See also Income.
Encyclopedia Britannica,
children, 284
English, arrival of, 183, 193, 221
adoption of by Cherokees, 195
Expeditions, preparations for, 193

272,

bought for

4-H Club, 253

INDEX

Family, bilocal, 365
biological, 361, 365, 367
Cherokee, “portraits” of four, 247—
255
elementary, 366
extended, 125, 147, 347, 361, 362,
365, 366, 367, 368, 369
income of, 239, 320
matrilineal extended, 120
nuclear, 368, 369
virilocal, 366
Faris, Robert E. L., 309, 313
Farmers. 163, 235, 236 (table), 252, 253,
255, 302, 315, 317, 318, 349
non-Indian, 241, 242
Farmers Home Administration, 320
Farming, 120, 196, 205, 231, 235, 236,
317, 346, 348, 349
cash crop, 236, 252
equipment for, 252, 345, 346
Farms, 223, 230, 241,/252,°317, 318
Father, 127, 129, 139, 141, 142, 146,
253, 284, 285, 307, 359, 365, 393,
394, 397, 415, 416, 421, 424
mother of, 365
sister of, 365
son of sister of, 362
Father-in-law, 373, "416
Fawns, 437
See also Deer.
Feathers, 20
See also Hagles; Orioles.
Fence fort, 432
Fence Lake, 335
Fertility, human, 350, 351, 352, 353,
361, 363, 364
beliefs regarding, 155
Fibers (vegetable and wool), 344
Fieldhouse, 436
Finger rings, 191
Fireplace, 191, 347, 432

Firewood, for Apache girl’s dance, 135,
138

provided by women, 163
Fish, 196, 250, 400, 403, 404, 405, 414,
AAI, 442
red head, 442
Fishermen, 429, 441
Fishing, 193, 319, 403
Fishinghawk, 403
Fishinghawk Place, 23
Fishing pole, 442
Flagstaff, Ariz., 119
Fleas, 389, 390, 411
Flies, 389, 390
annoyance of, 250, 256, 257
Flint, 348, 398, 411, 441
Flour, 125, 138, 293, 348
Fogelson, Raymond D., 9, 227, 236
Fogelson, Raymond D., and Kutsche,
Paul, 5, 9, 18, 50
Folklore, see Myths.
Food, 163, 302
exchange of, see Nit sla th ka.
See also Corn; Deer; Meat; Plants;
etc.

455

Footwear, 88, 263
See also Moccasins.
Foreman, Carolyn Thomas, 181, 212
Foreman, Grant, 198, 206, 209, 211
aoe Stephen, Cherokee preacher,
1

Fort Apache Indian Reservation, Ariz.,
LeeLee 205 222 (map),
124, 129

Fort Defiance, Ariz., 335, 338

Forts, British, 193

Fort Sumner, 333, 334, 335, 337, 343,
44

Fort Wingate, 334, 335, 337, 360, 366

Foxes, 189, 297, 440

red, 7
Fox sparrow (Passerella pliaca pliaca),

Franklin, Macon County, N.C., 434

Frazer, Sir James, 296

Free Masons, 212, 254

French, Roy, 298

Frosts, 165

Fruit, 152, 158, 169, 172, 346, 348

dried, 20

Fullblood Indians, set off from mix-
bloods, 181

Funeral, 60-63, 92

Gadigwanasti MS., 7

Gadu:g(z), 10, 12, 13, 15, 20, 48-51, 65,
67, 43

Gallup, N. Mex., 334, 337
“Gallup Independent, "335
Gambling, see Games.
Gambold, Mrs. Anna Rosina, 202
Gambold, Rev. John, 201, 202
Games:
ball, 198, 197, 202, 296, 436
baseball, Little League, 241
basketball, 241
Cherokee, 240-241
football, 241
footracing, 193, 197
gambling, 194, 387, 346, 349, 395,
396

in(a)da:sada, Cherokee, 393, 394
(fig.), 395 (fig.)
Indian ball, 241, 293
kick ball, 412, 413
marbles, 393
racing, 198, 197, 420, 421
softball, 240, 293
wrestling, 193
Garbage, eaten by animals, 256
Gardens, 236, 250, 252
flower, 257, 259
Gasoline, 125, 348
Gatlinburg, Tenn., 238, 430
Geese, 189, 196
Generosity, pattern of, 292-293
Georgia, treatment of Cherokees by,
205-207
Geronimo, 334
Gibson, A. M., 9
Gidu:hwa Society, 6

456

Gifts, not acknowledged, 292
Gilbert, William H., Jr., 50, 56, 184,
185, 391, 392, 393, 397, 398
Gilcrease Institute, see Thomas Gil-
crease Institute.
Gillespie, John D., 9
Girls, 411, 423, 424, 426, 431
pubescent, 120, 123, 124, 126, 127,
130, 132, 134, 185, 187, 1389, 141,
142, 148, 145-160, 162-171
relatives of, 130, 131, 185, 147,
148, 152, 153, 158, 164, 168, 172
unmarried, 139, 140
See also Na th es,'and specificsubjects.
Gish ih zha ha aldeh (‘Cane, it is made’),
141-143, 145, 146, 147, 171
Glass, 343
Glen, ae James, negotiator of treaty,
1

Glue, made from hides, 344
Gnats, 389, 390
Goats, 272, 347
God, 185, 195, 443
Goddard, Pliny E., 151, 154
Goh jon sinh (‘full-of-great-happiness
songs’), 151, 153, 171
Gold, 443, 444
Goldie intruded into by Whites,
05
Goodwin, Grenville, 117, 119, 120, 130,
134, 151, 155, 161, 164
Goshawk, 403, 437, 438
Gospel of St. Matthew, Cherokee trans-
lation, 180, 203
Gourd, 395
Governor’s Island, N.C., 401, 434
Graham County, N.C., 99, 233, 235
Grain, 348
Grandchildren, 298, 368, 431
Granddaughter, 125, 298
“murder” of, 356
Grandfather, 127, 155, 180, 182, 270,
307, 356, 424
maternal, 358
paternal, 181, 358
Grandmother, 126, 145, 253, 273, 279,
291, 397, 437
maternal, 358
paternal, 358
Graudpatente, 120, 124, 125, 127, 182,

maternal, 358
paternal, 358
Grandson, 259, 280
Gravediggers, 92
Graves, 206, 207
Graves, Edward, 195
wife of, 195, 196
Great-grandchild, 298
Great Smoky Mountains, 221, 430
Great Smoky Mountains National Park,
11, 221
Greens, 250
Greensboro Research Council, 228
Gregg, George, 117
Grinding stones, 344

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[BuLL. 196]

Grocery stores, 222, 318

Groundhog, 401

Guess, George, see Sequoyah.

Gulick, John, 105, 224, 227, 232, 234,
290, 293, 301, 304, 311, 314

Guns, 348, 400, 428

Haas, Mary R., 184
Hairdressing, 191, 336
Cherokee, 182
for dance, 154
Hallowell, Irving, 224, 243
Hammer, stone, 410, 411
Hampton Institute, in Virginia, 287
Handicrafts, 348
Handkerchief, 88
Hargrett, Lester, 27, 109, 180
Harmony Ethic, 289-299, 300, 304, 305,
309, 310 (table), 311
Harns Manufacturing Co., 239, 280,
281, 283, 319
Harvard University, 331
Harvesting, 163, 281, 367
Haskell Institute, in Kansas, 282, 283,
287, 288
Hatchet, 424, 437
Havighurst, Robert, and Neugarten,
Bernice L., 227, 294
Hawk, 189, 441
Haywood County, N.C., 437
Headgear, 190, 222, 344
Head 194, 202, 203, 204, 206, 369,
37
See also Chiefs.
Healing procedure, 160
Heath, Dwight B., 372, 373
Hemlock, 237
Henry, Helena, 117
Herbalists, 349
Herbs, 20, 271
See also Medicine.
Hewitt, J. N. B., 419
Hickory, 186, 237, 410, 421
Hickory nuts, 192, 194
Hicks, Charles, 202
Hides, 348
objects made from, 343, 344
Hill, W. W., 343
Hitchiti Indians, 408, 416, 420, 425, 438
Hiwassee River, N.C., 202
Hobson, Richard, 348
Hoe, grubbing, 94, 96, 97
Hogan, 347, 364, 365, 368
See also Dwellings.
Hoijer, Harry, 119
Hollingshead, August B., and Redlich,
Frederick C., 279, 313
Holy days, four, 159-160
Holy powder, used in Apache ceremo-
nies, 126, 129, 132, 147, 148, 152,
158, 171
Holzinger, Charles, 227
Hominy, 194, 417
Honey, used for sweetening, 192
Honey Springs, Amo:hi District, Chero-
kee Nation, 6

INDEX 457

Hopi Indians, 342 Income—Continued

Horn, 343, 344 woodearving for, 239

Hornbuckle, Charley, 53, 103 See also Employment.
Hornbuckle, Jefferson, 60 Indian Educational Committee, 316
Hornbuckle, Johnson, 103 Indian Education Research Project, 227,
Hornets, 389 294

Horse, recovery of, Cherokee expense | Indian Fair, 241
account, 88-90 Indian Gap, Sevier County, 430, 431,

Horses, 104, 161, 197, 200, 204, 206, 347, 432

356 ‘“Indianitis,” 307

broken by men, 349 ifahenee

pack, 194 “aboriginal,” 336
symbol of Apache wealth, 166 American modified, 245
Horseshoe Bend, Tennessee River, 195 conservative, 224, 225, 226, 241, 245,

Hospital, 222, 249, 250, 258, 260-263, 246, 247-250, 251, 256, 258. 260
267, 268, 269, 271, 272, 273, 274, 262, 263, 265, 267, 270, 273, O74

1 eae (table), 275 (table), 276 (table)

oF in, 260-263, 274, 275 277, 2s (eraph), asi, 283, 285,

6, 288, 2 , 291, 292, 293

ic peat aa a 258, 273 295, 206, 298° 299, 301. 302. 303°

eatt 26, 269, 271, 273 304-306, 307, 308, 309, 310, 311,
Veterans Administration, 251, 272 operon 317, 321, 336

ee ees ane generalized, 224, 245, 246, 250-252,

; th 8 260, 263, 265, 271, 272, 273, 274

Soe a as an he (table), 275 (table), 276 (table),

Hoyt! Rev. Ard, superintendent of 277, 278 (graph), 281, 282, 283,

’ Brainerd Mission, 181 2a, 287, 288, 295, 301, 302, 306,

Hoyt, Dr. Milo, father of Wahnenawhi, cond oe 310, 312, 313, 314

181 grap

interviewing of, 226

Huckleberries, 192 middle class, 224, 245, 246, 260,

Hughes, Charles C., 372 261, 272, 273, 274 (table), 275
Hummingbirds, 417 (table), 276 (table), 277, 278
Hunter, Kermit, 13 (graph), 285, 287, 288, 299, 300,
Hunters, 196, 250, 416, 420, 422, 427, 301, 302, 303-306, 307-308, 309,
429, 441 310, 312, 314 (graph), 316, 321
Hunting, 120, 159, 193, 236, 420 modern, 312, 318, 314 (graph), 316,
equipment for, made by men, 344 317
Huron Indians, 389 a oes “ae 1311
non-Conservative, :
Haha ys 146, 240, 304, 372, 373, rural White, classification of, 224,
aivorged sister of, 366 229, 245, 246, 252-254. 268, 260,
. 5) ’ ’ ) aple),
Be Ge GbE AE Ch Ge 275 (table), 276 (table), 277, 278

(graph), 281, 283, 285, 287, 288,
989, 291, 295, 301, 302, 304-306,

Th sta nedleheh (‘Changing Woman’) a
145, 148, 149, 150, 151-152, 153, aa a ae

169, 170, 171, 172
Apache girl’s prayer to, 154, 171
power of, 153

transitional group of, 245
typologies of, 224
“White,” 249, 251, 299, 303, 307,

Illegitimacy, 254, 304, 306, 361 308, 314
Inali, see Ino:li. See also specific tribal names.
Incantations, used in curing the sick, 186 | Indians, Cherokee:
Income: Ada:sude:gi, 33, 41
annuity, paid to Cherokees, 200, Adi:se, 33, 41
203 A:ghuya, 40, 45
Cherokee, 231, 285-240, 242, 250 Ah-gee-hli, see Lowrey, Maj George.
handling of, 250, 305 A?hw(1)daya:i, 28, 30, 71, 73, 75,
pensions, 250 76, 77, 78, 80, 83
public welfare, 226, 239, 240, 242, A?hy(z)gado:ga, 80, 83, 94, 96
245, 303, 306, 320, 321 A:hyti:nt, 36, 43, 71, 73, 75, 76, 77,
Ramah Navaho, 347-349 78

458 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 196]

Indians, Cherokee—Continued Indians, Cherokee—Continued

A:li, 37, 48, 71, 76, 77, 91, 92

A:li Da:dayi, 39, 45

Aligi:nt, 40, 45

Ali:sa, 33, 35, 38, 39, 41, 42, 44

A:li:si:ni, 107, 108, 109

Ali:tsa, see Sa:li Ali:tsa

A:lv:tsi, 90, 92

Amasu:yt, 80, 83

Amatsv:na, 33, 41

A:ni, 39, 45

Ani:tsa, 33, 41, 47

Antiwe:gi, 39, 44

A:nuwe:gi, 91, 92

A:tsi, 38, 44, 81, 84, 94, 95, 96, 97

Awo:di, 200

A:yéle:i, 39, 44

A:yigi, 36, 43

Ayb:adhu:gd, 37, 43, 47, 48

Cuh-tah-la-tah, wife of chief, 185

Da:dhivda (‘He-just-put-them-
Boye Malema Ong NO woos Cos

Dagv:ya, 107, 108

Da:gwadi:hi (C Catawba-killer’), 27,
30, 67, 68, 81, 83

Da:hw(i)sini, 37, 44

Dala:la (‘Redheaded woodpecker’),
79, 83, 85, 93

Da:li, 33, 41

Dalo:nige, 27, 30, 80, 81, 83, 84

Da:ni, 99, 100

Dandt:n(t)galv:hi, 39, 45

Da:sgigidi:hi (‘Tasgigi-killer’) 40,
45, 80, 83, 94, 95, 97, 103, 104,
105

Da:isv:dha (‘He-just-won’), 62

Dayuné:hyv:li, 28, 30, 39, 45

Da:yv:ha, 33, 41

De:gi (egsy). 36, 43, 78, 87, 91, 92

De:hw(t)si, 61, 62

De:nili (Daniel), 27, 28, 30, 39, 44,
81, 82, 84, 86, 86, 94, 96

De:wi, 37, 43, 99

Dhlv:datsi, 81, 83

Dhivdi:sdi, 39, 40, 81, 83

Dida:hnuwi:sg(i) (‘One-who-cures’),
186

Diga:hl(i)li:gi (‘They-which-are-
plew ap! ), 47, 48, 71, 78, 75, 76,

Dis qahi(a) ghwade: gt (‘One-who-
turns-them-over’), 29, 31, 66, 67,
91, 92, 94, 96

Diganv:wedi:sgi, 34, 42

Di:ghuyi:sgi (‘ One-who-pays’), 24,
25, 26, 66, 67, 79, 83

Di:gini, 35, 42

Digu:dhline:egi (‘One-who-uncovers-
them’), 61, 62

Dihye:lid6:hi, 27, 28, 30, 79, 83

ae se: sgt (' One-who- tramps’), 24,

Dinale: shwisda, 99

Do:tsu:lé?hnv (‘He arose’), 40, 45,
48, 49, 66, 67, 81, 82, 84, 90, 92,
95, 97
See also Ne: :gt Do:tsu:lé?hnvo.

Do:yani:da (‘Young beavers’), 33,
41, 65, 66, 67

Do-yuni:si, 71, 75, 76, 78, 80, 83

Du:nawi, 28, 30, 81, 84, 95, 97

Du:na:y1, 36, 43, 52, 53, 54, 56

Du:ni, 38, 44

Dodi: ue see Dhlvdi:sdi.

4:gi, 3

E:li, 99, "100

E:ligi, 36, 43

E:ligi:sadv, 107, 108

E:ligi:sant:da, 37, 44

E:lini, 38, 44

E:l(i)si, 40, 45

E:ni (Annie), 35, 40, 42, 45, 67, 68,
87, 91, 92

E:n(t) di, 99

Ei:nili, 107, 108

Esign, 99

E:isini, 37, 43, 107, 108, 109

E:wi, 36, 43

Gadola: ha, 33, 41

Gado:yoe?, 34, 42, 107, 108

Ga:gama (‘Cucumber’), 28, 30, 66,
67, 79, 83

Ga:hwi: li, see Tsa:li Ga:hwi:li.

Ga:l(w)sadi:hi, 15, 16, 17

Galv:da? yi, 39, 44

Gani:wahhya, 64

Gano:hiyd:dv, 28, 30

Ganv:dase:gi, 99

Ga:sgwalo:sgi, 95, 96

Ga:su:dhé:sgi, 40, 45

Gawo:hilo:sgi (‘One-who-climbs-
over-it’), 38, 44, 65, 66, 67, 80, 83

Ge:dhale:da ¢ Perforated, It’ ye 185

Ge:di (Katy), 51

Ge:hida, 36, 43

Ge:hyadho:gi, 37, 43

Ge:hyahi, 38, 44, (aly 73, 76, 77, 90, 92

Gelayi:ni, a Al, 107, 108, 109

Ghanohi: yado, 17 18, 81, 94

Ghanu:gada:hv, 91, 92

Gha:tsi, 29, 31, 54, 55, 56, 76, 78

Ghola:ha, 53: 4}

Gho:latsusdi:ga, 33, 41

Gilo:hi:yt, 91, 92

Go:hisdi:sgi, 36, 43

Go:lada (‘He-just-decreased-it’), 87,
91, 92

Goyi: ne?, 39, 44

Gu:dagi:sgi, 38, 44, 57, 66, 67, 79,
83, 93-97

Gu:la: tsi, 28, 30, 75, 78, 80, 83, 90,
91, 92

Gu:dé: gt, 99

Go:sgali:sgi, 38, re ye 108

Guwahyt:dad, 37, 4

Goyu:tse, 35, 42, ag:

Gwe:dh(1) st (‘Betsy’ ), 39; 45, 70;
104, 105

INDEX

Indians, Cherokee—Continued

Gwi:da (Peter), 63, 64, 65

Gwi:ni, 98, 99

Ho:g1, 33, 38, 41, 44

Idigv: n(e) di G To-make-them, one’),
39, 45, 72, 74, 75, (7, 78, 86, 87

Idigu: ne:ht, 80, 82, 83, 84, 428

Igv:yt, 91, 92

Tla:gwt, 35, 42, 80, 83

Ino:li, see Ino:li in main subject
index.

I:sadi:hi, 80, 83

I:yadi:hwisgit (‘Pumpkin-planter’),
89

T:ydtsagd, 34, 42

La:hw(t)sini, 82, 84, 94, 96

La-yt:st, 37, 43

Le:hawti, 99

Le:st, 81, 84

Li:dt, 71, 73, 76, 77, 78, 90, 91, 92

Liss, 36, 43

Li:yedi, 107, 108, 109

Lo:st, 40, 45, 107, 108, 109

Lu:si, 38, 44

Lusi:n(1)di, 37, 44, 107, 108, 109

Lu:wayt:sa, 37, 43, 44

Lu:yi, 35, 42

Me:li, 33, 41, 99, 108

Midi, 107, 108

Ne:gt Do:ztsu:le?hnv (‘Maggie He-
arose’), 54, 55, 56, 61, 62, 87

Ne-li, 35, 42

Ne:li:si, 99

Ne:ni, 33, 38, 41, 44

Ne:n(7)st, 36, 40, 43, 45, 99, 100

Ne:st, 34, 42

Ne:tsilt, 33, 40, 41, 45, 107, 108

Ne:tsint, Bi, 43, 107, 108

Ne: -wadn, 27, 30

Nigawi, 39, ‘45

Ni:gutse:gt, 35, 42

No:tsawi, 389

No-tsi, 40, 45, 61, 62

O:hni, 36, 38, 438, 44

O:l(u)tsegi, 39, 45, 52

O:st (‘Sudatory’), 60, 61, 62

Quaitsey (Betsy), 93

Quatteh (Betty), 93

Sa:dayt, 35, 37, 42, 43

Sa.lada, see Sa:ladi.

Sa-ladi (Charlotte), 29, 31, 35, 37,
43

Sa:ladu, see Sa:ladt.

Sa-li (Sally), 55, 56, 74, 77

Saligi:ni, 40, 45

Salo:lani:da, 80, 83

Sa:mi, 40, 45, 81, 84

Saya, 39, 44

Sa:yant, 56, 57, 58

Sdhi:wi (Steve), 11, 138, 14, 15, 17,
21-25, 26, 27, 39, 45

Se:li, 35, 42

Seyo:lini, 107, 108

Sga:hlilé:sgi, 37, 44

Sgwa:gint, 80, 83

St:gawi, 39, 44

459

Indians, Cherokee—Continued

Si:li, 39, 45

Sina:sdv, 35, 42

So: ?gini, 36, 43

Tsadha:gani:da, 99

Tsa:dlegi (‘He [or she] who-just-
turned-aside’), 184

Tsa:la, 12, 13, 14, 15, 17-21, 28, 30,
37, 38, ‘44, ‘47, 80, 83, 228, 229

Tsa:lié: gwa (‘Big Charley’ ), see
Tsa:li.

Tsa:li Ga:hwi:li (Charley Horn-
buckle), 53, 54, 89, 102, 103

Tsa:nt (John), 99, 103-105

Tsa:ni De:hw(i) si, 33, 41

Tsd:n(2)la:tsit (John Large), 40, 45,
ma 54, 79, 82, 83, 84, 95, 97, 98,
il

Tsd:nilo:si, 80, 83, 94, 95, 96, 97

Tsa:n(i) sini, 35, 42

T' sa:ts(2) (George), 40, 45, 107, 108

Da a 71, 73, 7A, 76, 77, 91,

Tse:gi, 34, 38, 41, 44

Tse:gwddi:hi(‘Killer-of-large-ones’),
37, 44, 89

Tseni:st, 36, 43

dee (Jesse) (man), 37, 44, 103,
1

Tse:yvyo:st, 99

Tsi:gh(2)sv, 34, 42

Tsi:guwi, 38, 44

Tst:lawi:se, 36, 43, 98, 99

Tst:na?de:t, 36, 43

Tsina:ni, 91, 92

Tsi:nayi, 36, 43

Tsini (Jenny), 35, 38, 39, 48, 44,
69, 70, 91, 92

Tsinilv:gt, 33, 41, 107, 108, 109

vet nee (Ginsey), 60, 107, 108,
109

Tsino:hi, 61, 62

Tsi:sghwa, 71, 76, 78, 80, 83

Tsi:sghwana:1, 386

Ts(2z) sgili, see Ts(t)sgilié:gwa.

Ts(2)sgilié:gwa (‘Big owl’), 47, 48,
50, 51, 65, 66, 67, 79, 83, 85, 95,
97, 106

Ts(i) sgili U:sdi:ga (‘Little-screech-
wl’), 85, 86

Tsi:sgwani:da (‘Young Birds’), 25,
26

Tsiwe:li:si, 36, 43

Tso:tsaga (‘The - three - which - he -
ate’), 28, 30, 38, 44, 50, 51, 71,
73, 76, yh, 80, 81, 83, 84

Tsu: dasi, 39, 45

Tsu:da:so? di, 98, 99

Tsu:hla (‘Fox’), 47, 48

Tsul6é:gilé (‘Clouds’), 40, 45, 80,
83, 89

Tsumi, 27, 30

Tsuna:sdala, 27, 30, 81, 84, 94,
95, 96, 97

Teustso: ladha, 80, 83, 94, 95, 96,
9

460

Indians, Cherokee—Continued
Tsuwe:dha?ni (‘He-has-poles-stick-
ing-in-the-ground’), see Tsa:li.

Tsu:we:lu:gd, 36, 43

Tsv:datst, 28, 29, 31

U:dan(t)du:da, 28, 30, 36, 43

U:dhluna:da, 80, 82, 83, 95, 97

Ugh(a) dhe:na, 417, 436, 437, 438

U:ghv, 411

U:hlt, 35, 42

Ulé:sda2é (‘He-steps-upon-it’), 57,
58, 81, 84

U:l(a)sdu: hi, 29, 31, 90, 92

Ule:yoe, 81, 82, 34

U:1(2) sdu: hi (John Oostooih), 36,
43, 60

Ul (i) se?go:gi:do, 27, 30

U:lu:tse, 36, 43

Ulv:hnawo:da, 34, 42

U:ni:lo:sv (‘They-passed-by’), 55,
56, 57, 58

Usae:dv, 39, 44

U:sawi, 61, 62

U:sgo: -h(u), 427

U:sgwaniyé:dv (‘He - observed - it -
with-amazement’), 24, 25, 26

U:tsawi, 389

U:wa?nv (‘Feather’), 28, 30, 65,
66, 67, 82, 84, 95, 9

U:wa:wo:sidi, 28, 30

Uwo-ha:se:hi, 71, 73, 76, 77

U:yohu:la, 36, 43

V :wo:diyé:hi, 33, 41

Vyanu:-la, 38, 44

Wa:di, 33, 40, 41, 45

Wa:dv, see Wa:di.

Wa:zgigu (‘Gourd’), 32, 80, 83

Wa:gult, 28, 30, 35, 42

Wahh yagado: ga Gana: gil) (‘The-
wolf-stands’), 63, 6

Aisles :da, 28, 30, 37, 44, 53, 54,

9,8

Wahnenauhi (‘Over-there-they-just-

arrived-with-it’), see Keys, Mrs.

ucy L.

Wa:huhu (‘Screech owl’), 19, 36, 43,
85, 86, 90, 91, 92, 95, 96, 100, 101,
105, 106

Wasleni:da, 37, 43

Wa:zligint, 37, 43

Wa:sida?na, see Wa:sida?nt.

Wa:sida?ni, 12, 18, 80, 83, 95, 97

Wa:wole:sidi, 80, 83

We:gi, 37, 43

Wi:l(2)sini Sga:tst, 28, 29, 30, 31,
35, 37, 42, 43, 80, 81, 84, 94, 96

Wini (Winny), 35, 40, 43, 45, 60, 62,
& 68, 69, 70-78, 86-88, 90, 91,
9

Wo:lada, 107, 108

Yi:st, 37, 44

Yo:ntiwo:hld, 27, 30, 81, 84

Yo:nvganvhi: -d(v), 98, 99, 100

Yuhwi-oo-skah-si-tt, Chief, 194

Indian Territory, Cherokee removal to,
221, 230

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY

[BuLL. 196]

Infants, care of, 249, 258, 269
legend about, 437, 438
nursing of, 250
scratching of, 296
stillborn, 350
twin, 351
Informants, 123, 125, 126, 128, 132, 1438,
146, 149, 151, 154, 165, 166, 225,
227, 234, 236, 257, 258, 259, 265,
267, 268, 270, 272, 273, 279, 281,
282, 284, 285, 287, 290, 291, 293,
296, 297, 298, 299, 300, 301, 302,
303, 304, 306, 307, 309, 345, 352,

test group, 123
Inheritance, 92, 234, 235, 242, 318, 337
Ino:lt, 5-8, 11, 17, 18, 26, 27, 31, 46, 47,
54, 56, 58, ’60, 65, 67, 68, 70, 76,
77, 78, 80, 81, 83, 84, 86, 90, 92,
93, 96, 98, 99, 100, 101, 105, 106,
203
mother of, 93
Inspector of Letters, 12
Intermediary, use of, 290, 293, 300, 309
Interpreters, 90, 123
Intoxicants, 342, 348
excluded from Cherokee Nation,
180, 208, 205, 212
tulipay, 128, 1382, 133, 184, 136,
137, 138, 141, 142, 146, 154, 164,
172, 072
whiskey, 202, 203, 272, 445
wine, 348
mae ee ee 308, 356, 363, 370,
?
chronic, 307, 308
murder as result of, 202
quarrels as result of, 202
Ironwood, 296
Iroquois Indians, 244, 419
Irrigation, 163, 164
Ishcomer, Louis, 9

Jackson, President Andrew, 195, 299

Jackson County, 31, 89, 227, 233, 241,
294, 319, 437

Jeffreys, M. D. W., 351

Jemez, 342

Jesus Christ, 195, 196

Jewelry, 191, 348, 393

John Howard Payne Papers, see Payne.

Johnson, Jack,_280

Johnson, Lillian, 117

Johnson, Sam, 117
Jolly, John, Cherokee Principal Chief,
204

Judge, 19, 370
Cherokee, 19, 86, 92, 96, 100, 101,
105, 106
Navaho, 370
See also Crime; Justice; Law; Police.
Jumper, William, 9
Juniper, 121, 343
Juniper berries, 120
Justice, immanent, 293, 294, 310
See also Crime; Judge; Law; Police.

INDEX

Kahl, Joseph, 279, 300, 313
Kane, Melvin, 117
Kaplan, Bert, 373
Kaut, Charles R., 117
Kettle, 94, 139
Keys, Clun D., 179
Keys, Mrs. Lucy L., 179, 180, 181, 182,
185, 192, 200, 207, 211, 212
Keys, Monroe Calvin, husband of Wah-
nenauhi, 181
Kilpatrick, Jack Frederick, 9, 60, 106,
184, 211, 287, 390, 391
Kinship system, 123, 161, 163, 164, 167,
168, 185
See also Clans.
Kitchen appliances, 256, 259
Kluckhohn, Clyde, 117, 123, 167, 169,
331, 333, 334, 338, 342, 348, 373
Knives, 92, 96, 343, 428
Knoxville, Tenn., 222, 254
Koasati Indians, 391, 397, 398, 408, 410,
420, 422, 424, 438
Kunstadter, Peter, 225
Kutsche, Paul, 227
Kwakiutl, 315

Laguna Indians, 333, 342, 350, 360
Land, allotment of, 251, 304, 305, 306
clearing of, 190
disputes over, 194, 195, 318
ownership of, 60, 105, 233, 346
sales of, 234, 318
Landgraf, John L., 336, 347, 348
Language:
Apache, 124, 170-172
Cherokee, 5, 6, 8, 180, 184, 194, 198,
203, 233, 245, 246, 251, 252, 265,
286, 291, 385
Cherokee, dialects of, 9, 184
English, 181, 196, 198, 201, 233, 338,
339
Navaho, 336, 339, 340, 341
Spanish, 334, 338, 340
Zuni, 340
Lanman, Charles, 229
Large, John, 53, 98
See also Indians, Cherokee, 7'sé:n-
(2) la:tst.
Laurel thicket, 413, 422
Lava rock, 343, 344
Lavender, G. W., 212
Law, 203, 206, 290, 306, 341
Federal, 290, 370
Cherokee, 203, 206
See also Crime; Judge; Police.
Lawyers, 290
Leach, John, cousin of Sequoyah, 196
Leadership, Navaho, in hands of older
people, 369
Lice, 389, 390
Lightning, 150, 165
Limes, 256, 397
Linden withes, rope of, 437
Lines, hide, 344
Linoleum, floor covering, 257
Little Tennessee River, 431
747-014—66——30

461

Litton, Gaston L., 228, 229, 230, 232
Lively, Lorraine, 228
Liver, 420, 421
Livestock, 165, 335, 341, 347 (table), 348
counting of, 69-70, 347
Livestock system, Government, 347
Lizard, 296
Loans, 27-29, 90-93, 100, 101
payment of, 19-21
procedure for getting, 11-15, 50
refusal of, 293
request for, 15-17, 293
See also Debts; Taxes; Treasury.
Lodge, winter, 191, 192
See also Dwellings.
Log cabins, 347
Logging, 237, 348
Long, Will West, 6, 17, 23, 32, 52, 249,
385, 413, 419, 428, 429, 436
Loom, 195
Looney, John, Acting Principal Chief of
Western Cherokees, 208
Lounsbury, Floyd G., 9
Lowin, Jo, 58
Lowrey, John, 200, 201
wife of, 200
Lowrey, Maj. George (Ah-gee-hli), 179,
180, 182, 183, 191, 196, 199, 200,
201, 202, 208, 211, 212
Cherokee history written by, 183
children of, 180, 196, 201
slave owned by, 199, 200, 201
wife of, 196, 200, 202, 211
Lupe, Albert, 117
Lupe, Dewey, 117
Lupe, Nelson, 117
Lupe, Rose, 117

MeAllester, David P., 372
McCall, William A., 11
Mack, as peer R. J.; and Yellin,
5) ol
Macon County, N.C., 99, 100, 434
Magic, 293, 295-298, 306, 310, 419
Magicians, 68, 83, 388, 389, 393, 398,
403, 416, 418, 419, 421, 430, 431,
432, 434, 435, 440
dead people living with, 388
Maize, see Corn.
Makah Indians, 244, 245, 316
Malinowski, Bronislaw, 169
Malone, Henry Thompson, 221, 223
Manos, 138
Many Beads, Navaho leader, 369
Maple sugar, used for sweetening, 192
Marriage, 185, 251, 284, 350, 351 (table),
352 (table), 353 (table), 359-364,
369, 370
arranged, 360, 361, 364
bilocal, 360
church, 251
duration of, 364 (table)
first, 351, 359, 361, 363
interracial, 242, 307, 308, 350
polygynous, 351, 361, 362, 368
preparation for, 200, 359

462 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 196]

Marriage—Continued Menstruation, 126, 127, 128, 129, 155,
regulations concerning, 58-60, 185, 350, 351, 389, 397, 439
291, 358, 359 Merton, Robert K., 300, 309, 313
sororal, 361 Mescal tubers, 120, 163
Martinez, Pedro, 117 Mesquakie Indians, 244
Marx, Carl, 313 Metal, 343
Mask, 411 Metates, 138
Mason, G. T., 10 Mice, 444
Matting, 344 Miguel, Easy, 362
Mattresses, 256 Miguel, Jo, 362
Mayes, Joel Bryan, Principal Chief of | Miguel, Mary, 362
the Cherokee, 181 Mirrors, 306
Mead, Margaret, 316 Missionaries, 205, 206, 208, 241, 341,
Meadowlark, 401 351, 370, 371
Meat, 166, 193, 416, 419, 420, 421, 423, assisted by Cherokee Nation, 202
438 Christian, 181
dried, 345, 423 effect of, 124
see also Deer. Franciscan, 335
Mediator, see Intermediary. Moravian, 202
Medicine man: Mormon, 280, 334, 337, 340, 341
Apache, 121, 125, 127, 128, 129, Presbyterian, 202
130, 138, 135, 137, 138, 139, 141, See also Missions.

142, 143, 145, 147, 148, 149, 150, | Mission Press, Cherokee Nation, 46, 109
151, 152, 153, 154, 156, 158, 159, | Missions:

160, 171, 172 Baptist, 202
Cherokee, 7, 8, 31, 392 Brainerd, 180, 181, 202
See also Wizards. Echoto Methodist, 23, 33-44 (roll),
Medicine or medical treatment, 270, 276 46, 60, 68, 107-109
aspirin, 249 Springplace, Moravian, 202
attract-, 407 Willstown, Ala., 181
birchbark, 186 Mississippi River, 193, 203
birth control, 349 Mixblood Indians, 181, 229
boneset tea, 271 Moceasins, 190, 191
cherry, wild, 271 made by men, 345, 349
containers for, 344 Mockingbird, yellow, 426
dental, 260, 263, 354, 355 Mole, 387, 444
for parturition, 345 Mooney, James, 5, 6, 7, 8, 11, 13, 15, 17,
goat’s milk, 272 18, 19, 23, 27, 31, 32, 47, 48, 50,
herbs, 200, 270, 271 52, 58, 54, 56, 58, 60, 63, 65, 67,
hickory bark, lightning struck, 186 68, 70, 78, 85, 86, 88, 90, 93, 97,
Indian, 121, 246, 273, 274, 276, 388, 98, 101, 103, 105, 106, 109, 188,
394, 443 184, 187, 188, 189, 192, 198, 194,
injections, 249, 261, 262, 270 199, 228, 230, 387, 388, 389, 390,
insulin, 271 391, 392, 393, 397, 398, 400, 403,
modern, 276, 348 405, 406, 407, 408, 409, 410, 411,
narcotic (Datura meteloides), 346 413, 414, 416, 417, 422, 425, 426,
oak, red, bark, 186 430, 487, 488
obstetric, 269 Mooney, James, and Olbrechts, Frans
orthopedic, 263 M., 31, 78, 88, 106, 185, 187, 1938,
patent, 270 296, 386, 403
pediatric, 268 Mormons, see Missionaries; Religion;
penicillin, 268 Traders.
plant, 346, 349 Mortar, 188, 192, 250
psychiatric, 267, 273, 307, 320 Mosquitoes, 389
Salk vaccine, 249, 261, 263 Mother, 145, 146, 236, 239, 250, 284,
steam treatment as, 192 285, 307, 308, 359, 393, 394, 404,
surgery, 273 411, 412, 422, 423, 424
taken before expeditions, 193 brother of, 358, 362, 392
tea, 185, 249, 253, 268, 271 death of, 365
urine (in myth), 440 mother of, 365, 420
Vicks, 249 position in family, 185
X-ray, 271 sister of, 365
yellowroot, 271 son of brother of, 362
Mekeel, Scudder, 2438 step-, 394
Melons, 346, 348, 442 Mother-in-law, 291, 358

Menomini Indians, 244 Mountain lion skin, use of, 344

INDEX 463

Mount Taylor, 333, 334 Mythology, characters in—Continued
Moustaches, 357 Thunder People, 392
Mulberry bark, 421 Visa:yi, 393-397
Mules, 196, 252, 268, 272, 347 Watersnake, 412
Mullay, —, Federal enumerator, 228, Wildcat, 405, 444
229 Wolf, 398, 399, 401, 407, 408, 409,
Murphy, Ernest, 117 444
Murphy, N.C., 230, 434 woman, 417, 418, 419, 423, 424, 444
Musical instrument, 96 woman, maneating, 419, 420, 421
Muskmelon seeds, 442 Women, 415, 416
Muskogean Indians, 406, 411 Myths, 151, 386
Mussel shell, 187 Ani:gh(i)sgi, about the, 386, 429-
Mythology, characters in: 435
Bear, white, 422 animal, 398-401
Bear People, 422 Apportionment, the council for, 389
Beetle, 397 avian, 401-404
Born-of-Water-Old-Man, 151, 172 Bear, the fat, 428
boys, 189, 390, 392 Bear, the headless, 427
Buck, 428 Bear, how he lost his tail, 400
children, 188 Bear, the indestructible, 427
Chipmunk, 389 Bear, man who became a, 422
Crane, 404 Beaver, man who married a, 424—
Creator, 187, 194, 195 425
Crow, 386 Birds select a chief, 402—403
Deer, 151, 401, 409 Bird that was ashamed of its
Dog, 418 feet, 401-402
Elk, 424 Boy and the maneating woman,
Father, 188 420-422
fish, maneating (Dha:ghwv), 414, Buck, the ride on, 428
415 Cherokee, 85, 180, 182, 194, 195,
Fleakiller, 411, 412, 413, 414, 415 386-398, 406, 416, 418
Fox, 400, 404, 405 Cherokee, North Carolina, 385
Frog, 389, 390 Child eaten by tame panther,
Ghana:di, 389, 390, 391, 416 438-439
Giant, slant-eyed (Tsu: “Al(2) gul(a)), Child eaten by wolves, 438
426, corn, origin of, 189, 391
Goshawk, 403, 487, 438 Corn and beans, 444
grapevine, 397 cosmogonic, 386-398
Grasshopper, 401, 402 Crane leads the dance, 403-404
Grubworm (Tsulzyv:dhagv), 389 Creation, Apache, 153
Katydid, 395 Creation, Cherokee, 187
Lightning, 151, 388, 392, 394, 397 Dancing ghosts, 435
Little Dog, 418, 419, 420 Daughter of the Sun, 388
Little People, 189, 190, 388, 390, death, origin of, 388-389
412, 413, 414, 437 Deer, contest for sexual differenti-
Man, 415, 416, 420, 421, 422, 426 ation, 401
man and woman, 188 Deer dupes the rabbit, 409
Mother, 188, 189, 391 disease and medicine, origin of, 389
Old Man, 415, 416 Father-in-law, jealous, 416- 417
Orphan Boy, 411 fire, creation of, 187-188
Otter, 405, 406, 410 fire, obtaining of, 386-387, 388
Panther, 444 Fire woman, 387-388
people, maneating, 420, 421 Fleakiller cycle, 386, 411-415
power from, 150 Ghana:di punishes his son, 389-
Rabbit, 404, 405, 406, 407, 408, 409, 390
410, 411 Ghana:di, sons of, and the Little
Rain, 388 Person, 390-391
Sea dragon (Ugh(a)dhe:n(a)), 391 Ghost of Diso: ludu(v) di:yi, 4386
Serpent (Ground Snake), 186, 187 Groundhog, how he lost his tail,
Slayer-of-Monsters, 151, 155, 172 401
Snakes, 436 Hunter and the panther, 429
Spider, 188, 387 Hunter and the three dogs, 418-
Stoneclad, 397, 410, 411, 416 420
Sun, 151, 154, 455,172 Hunter and the waterdogs, 429
Thunder, 387, 388, 391, 392, 393, Hunter shoots over a mountain,

394, 395 428

464

Myths—Continued

insect husband, 427

Irishmen, seven, go gold digging,
443-444

Little People and the giant yellow
jackets, 437

Little People take Fleakiller bear
hunting, 413-414

Magician defies the Ani:gh(1)sgi,
432-434

Magician spies on the Ani:gh(i)sgi,
431

BUREAU

Man, metamorphoses of lazy, 441

Man and the fishinghawk, 403

Man cured by skunk of smallpox,
439-440

Man killed by turkeys, 439

Man who became a bear, 422

Man who married a beaver, 424-
425

Man who married an elk, 422-424

Men, old, revenge of the, 443

miscellaneous, 435-444

Nature, lesson from, 441-442

Negroes, origin of, 443

Owl husband, 425-426

Pleiades, origin of, 398

Possum and the terrapin, tried for
killing the wolf, 398-400

Red worm husband, 426-427

Sanuwa, the nest of the, 437-438

Sapsucker husband, 426

sin, origin of, 188-189

Stoneclad, 397-398, 410-411

Thunder and Laigatonéhona, 397

Thunder kills an Ugh(a)dhe:n(a),
391-392

Thunder’s brother-in-law, 392-393,
416

Trickster Rabbit, 404-411

Ugh(a)dhe:n(a) Bridge, 436

Visa:yi, 393-397

Yellow jackets, Little People and
the giant, 437

Wa?dho:gi Mound, battle of, 434, 435

Water dwellers, 415-416

White man and the Indian, 442

White men, prophecy concerning,
440

Whites, Indians, and Negroes, 443

Woman and the wolves, 439

Woman killed by magic arrowhead,
417-418

Na e tlanh (‘have drinking,’ or ‘goes be-
fore drinking’), 133, 171
Na th es (Apache girl’s puberty cere-
mony), 117, 124-138, 141-143,
145-171
phase I, 153-154, 170
phase II, 154, 172
phase III, 156, 172
phase IV, 156, 171
phase V, 157
phase VI, 158, 172

OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY

[BuLL. 196]

Na th es—Continued
phase VII, 158-159, 170
phase VIII, 159, 171
Na tht esn (sponsor for Apache Na th es),
126, 130, 132, 133, 135, 137, 138,
141, 142, 146, 148, 153, 154, 155,
156, 157, 158, 159, 160, 162, 163,
168, 171, 272
selection of, 130-132, 162
Nails, 88
Nantahala River, N.C., 431, 435
Nan tan, member of Apache girl’s camp,
152, 162, 171
Nashville, Tenn., 201
Natchez Indians, 391, 406, 408, 410, 420,
438, 441, 444
National Institutes of Health, 228
National Science Foundation, 9, 183, 386
Navaho Indians, 119, 161, 167, 333-341,
345, 346, 352, 354, 359, 360, 362,
363, 366, 367, 370, 372, 373
Canyoncito, 343
Canyon De Chelly, 342
crafts of, 254, 343
Eastern, 333, 342, 343
Navajo Mountain band, 341, 342
physical characteristics of, 357-358
political structure of, 369
post-Fort Sumner period, 336
Puertocito-Alamo, 342, 343
Ramah, 334, 336-343, 349, 354, 359
Western, 343
See also specific subjects.
Navajo Agency, 335, 336, 370
Navajo Reservation, 341, 360
Ndeh Guhyaneh (‘wise people’), 127-128,
130, 181, 135, 171
Necklace, 393
Neely, Rev. Richard, 202
Negroes, 229, 309
restriction on, 59
Nephew, maternal, 373
New KEchota, Ga., 109, 203
Newspaper, first Indian, 203
New Testament, Brown-Lowrey ver-
sion, 180
Cherokee translation, 46, 180, 185
Nit sla th ka (‘food, exchanged’), 141,
146-147, 159, 172
Nofire, Jack, 9
Nofire, Mary, 9
North Carolina (land taxes), 31, 48
Noserings, 191
Nutria, N. Mex., 334

Oak, 145, 186, 237, 247, 343

Oatmeal, 259

Oats, 346

Ocher, 143, 344

Oconaluftee River, 222, 226, 393, 424
O’Donnell, Mary P., 346

Oglala Indians, 243

Ojibwa Indians, 243

Oklahoma, Five Civilized Tribes of, 443
Oklahoma Ozarks, 7

INDEX

Olbrechts, Frans M., 385, 386, 387, 393,
394, 395, 396, 397, 398, 401, 406,
413, 419, 421, 427, 428, 429, 432,
434, 436, 437, 438, 440, 443, 445
Old ao ees 166, 235, 2438, 314,

respect for, 162, 185
social role during, 138, 162, 268, 432
Omens, belief in, 295, 296, 298, 306
Opossum, 188, 398, 399, 400, 407
Orioles, Apache beliefs about, 143
feathers of, orange, 1438, 144 (fig.),
145, 165
symbols of good nature, 165
Ornaments, worn by both sexes, 191
Orphans, asylum for, 209
Osage Indians, 204
Outfits, 366, 367, 368, 369
leader of, 367
Outler, Albert C., 9
Ovens, outdoor bake, 342
Owl, George, 9
Owl, Henry, 233, 234
Owls, 47, 106, 189, 307

Page, Charles H., 313

Paint, yellow, 145

Paintbrushes, fiber, 344

Painttown, see Wolftown.

Paiute Indians, 342

Pallet, 69

Panthers, 189, 344, 421, 429, 438, 439,
441

Paper, things made from, 343
Parents, 120, 125, 127, 132, 135, 286,
366, 367
divorced, 366
of mixed racial descent, 350
See also Crimes; Divorce; Marriage;
Sexual behavior.
Parker, Thomas V., 223, 224
Park Hill, Okla., 179, 180
Parsons, Francis, 191
Partridge, Bird, Indian, 251
Patterson, Dudley, 117
Pawning, 348
Payne, John Howard, Papers, 199, 391
Peaches, Teddy, 117, 155
Pelts, 20, 58
Pendant, abalone shell, 145
Persimmons, 398, 399
Pescado, farming village, 360
Peyote, see Religion.
Pheasant Hill, Okla., 181
Picuris Pueblo, 346
Pigpen, 252
Pigs, 32, 69, 84, 94, 96, 97, 104, 197, 206,
236, 252, 303, 347, 437
necks and backs of, 250
Pilling, James C., 7, 180
Pine tree, 237, 343
limbs from, 437
Norway, 237
ponderosa, 121
pifion, 120, 121, 163, 343, 346
Pins, 76

465

Pipeline, for water, 258
Pipes, 344, 421, 445
Placenta, disposal of, 269, 296, 306
Plains Indians, 318
war bonnets adopted from, 222
Plants, 163, 281, 345, 367
cultivated, 163, 281, 345, 348, 367
fibers from, 344
good luck, 346
magico-religious, 345
roots of, 344
seeds of, 335, 346
uncultivated, 120, 163, 345, 346
See also Farms; Gardens.
Pleiades, 398
Plow, 252, 281, 345
polgar, Steven, 244
Police:
Cherokee, 203
Navaho, 371
See also Crime; Judge; Justice; Law.
Poligamy, laws against, 203
Pollitzer, William, 227, 235
Polygyny, 336, 351, 352, 362, 366
sororal, 362, 365
Popcorn, 152
Porcupines, 346
Posey, Rev. Humphrey, 202
Pot, 76, 77, 78, 96, 97, 129
Potatoes, 138, 142, 146, 236, 252, 346
Pottery, 342-344, 387, 394, 396, 399
smoothers, 343
supports, 343
Potterymaking, 336, 344, 349
Poultry, 347
Powell, Maj. J. F., 182
Power, 138, 171
Apache supernatural, 150-151
political, 369
See also Chief; Medicine Man;
Witches.
Prayers, 12, 161, 162, 240
agents of, 144
Apache girl’s, 154, 171
Price, Aaron, Principal Chief of Western
Cherokees, 204
Protestant Ethic, 289, 299-309, 310
(table), 311, 315, 316
Public Health Service, see United States
Public Health Service.
Public Works Program, 320
Pueblo tribes, 243, 333, 335, 340, 341
Puerto Ricans, 356
Puritanism, 299

Quails, 189

Qualla Boundary, 8, 11, 20, 26, 46, 62,
67, 84, 99, 100, 229, 233, 235, 249,
317, 434

Qualla Cooperative, 238, 239

Qualla trading post, 85, 90, 93, 104, 105

Quartz, divining stone, 417

Quay, Roy, 117

Quivers, skin, 344

466

Rabbits, 346, 410, 428
skins of, 344
Raccoons, 189
Raft, 419
Rags, spun, 387
Ragweed, 251
Railroad, effect on Indians, 337, 348
Appalachian, 232
Ashville Division, 434
Santa Fe, 346
tourist, 222
Rain, 159, 165
Rainmaking, 160
Ramah, N. Mex., 333, 334, 335, 336, 337,
339, 341, 342, 345, 351, 360, 361,
371, 373, 374
Ramah Trading Company, 337
Rapoport, Robert, 337, 341, 371, 372
Rats, 419, 421, 430
Rattle, gourd, 417
Rattlesnake, 143, 272, 393, 439
teeth, use of, 193
Raven, 386
Raven Fork, in Big Cove, 42, 45, 60
Rawhide thong, 1438, 145
Reamers, 344
Redfield, Robert, 243, 247
Red ocher, 344
Refrigerators, 257
Religion, 226, 240, 316, 337, 371-372
Baptist, 240, 319
Catholic, 120, 240, 244, 338
Episcopal, 240
Fundamentalist, 317
Methodist, 6, 7, 33-47, 59, 60, 68,
102, 202, 240
Mormon, 333, 335, 337, 341, 342,
373
native, 120, 123, 317, 371
Navaho, 337
Nazarene, 372
Pentecostal Holiness, 240
Peyote, 244, 371
Protestant, 299
Quaker, 226, 231
Western Apache, 117
See also Christianity; Missions.
Reptiles, 346, 412
Residence, 358, 364-366, 368, 369
Resins, 346
Rhododendrons, 223, 233, 297
Ribbons, symbolize cardinal directions,
143, 145, 147, 148, 160
Ridge, Maj. John, 208
family of, 228
Rio Grande Pueblos, 342
Rising Fawn, Cherokee man, 202
Rituals, see Ceremonies.
Roberts, John M., 343, 345, 374
Rockefeller Foundation, 331
Rocky Mountains, 193, 194, 210
Rodeo, all-Indian, 128
Roetzel, Priscilla, 228
Roll:
Baker, 232
Churchill, 231

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY

[BuLu. 196]

Roll—Continued
Hester, 230
Siler, 229
Swetland, 229
tax (Cherokee), 27-29, 30-31
Terrell, 7, 10, 47, 53, 68,.:78, 93;
100, 102, 103
Ropes, fiber, 344
Ross, Andrew, 181
Ross, John, Principal Chief of the
Cherokee, 181, 182, 202, 206,
208, 298
Ross, Susan, aunt of Wahnenauhi, 181
Rugs, 344, 348
‘Runners,’ Cherokee messengers, 194
Russell, Mattie, 9, 20, 31, 46, 60, 85

Sacks, wool, 344

Saddlecraft, Inc., 239, 319

Saddles, 348

St. Johns, Ariz., 119

Salt, 88

Salt River Canyon, near Cibecue, 143

San a Reservation, 120, 121, 128,
13

Sand-painting minerals, 344
Sandstone, 343
Sandtown, 98-100
Sanitation, 255-260, 272, 274, 317, 320
bathing, 193, 250, 259, 263
oe facilities, 250, 255, 256, 259,
26
San Jose River, 333
San Pedro River, 121
San Rafael, 334, 340
Sapsucker, 426
Scalplock, 191
Scalps, taking of, 431, 432, 435
saan ore Rev. J. F. (Devil’shorn),
School, 209, 231
activities of, 263-266
Albuquerque Indian, 339
attendance at, 225, 339
Big Cove, 261
Black Fox, 27
boarding, 181, 182, 212, 215, 216,
279
Carlisle, 285, 287, 306
Cherokee boarding, 181, 286, 287
Cherokee public, 203, 226, 227, 241,
250, 252, 281, 282, 283, 288, 320
Christian, 202
custodians of, 241, 263
day, 366, 371
effect of farming on, 252
elementary, 227, 263
Federal boarding, 281
health program in, 263-266, 274,
276 (table)
lack of, 230, 232
preparatory, 316
public, 209, 280
Ramah Navaho, 366, 371
reservation, 280, 281, 283

INDEX

School—Continued
scholarships, 250
secondary, 209, 279-282
segregated, 287, 288
selection of, 225
Snow Bird community, 261
training, run by Quakers, 231
vocational, 282, 316
White, attended by Indians, 242
Schoolhouse, 59, 201
Schwarze, Edmund, 202
Scott, Maj. Gen. Winfield, 207, 228, 229
Scrapers, 343
Scratching, 193, 296
Scratching stick, 144 (fig.), 145, 147, 148,
160, 193, 272
Screens, on houses, 250, 256, 257
Septic tank, 259
Sequoyah, 8, 179, 182, 196, 197, 198,
199, 204, 209, 210, 211
death of, 210
syllabary of, 5, 8, 109, 180, 198, 199,
203, 387, 391
wife of, 211
Sequoyah County, Okla., 7, 50
Sevier County, Tenn., 430
Sevierville, Tenn., 430
Sewage, disposal of, see Sanitation.
Sexual behavior, 363, 364, 370, 373
Shades, built for women, 133, 135, 136
(fig.), 137 (fig.), 138, 152; 154,
163, 347
See also Tents.
Shaman, 171, 386
female, 128
Shawnee Indians, 430
Sheep, 342, 345, 347, 348, 349, 367
Sheepherder, 348, 360
Shells, 435
abalone, 145, 147, 148, 160
Shelters, food, 135-137
See also Dwellings; Farms; Shades.
Shields, hide, 344
Shi tt ke (‘my good friend’), 132-133,
146, 147, 168, 171, 172
Shoshone Indians, 244
Show Low, Ariz., 121, 138
Shryock, Richard H., 9
Shut In, N.C., 223
Siblings, 358, 360, 362, 364, 366
Siler, William, 100, 229
Silversmiths, 349
Silverwork, 344, 348
Sinew, use of, 129, 139, 144, 344
Singers, 349, 369
Cherokee, 60, 99, 107-108
Singing, 139, 158
Sister, 137, 149, 297, 358, 412
biological, 361
husband of, 137, 362
son of, 362, 392
Skins, preparation of, 190
Skunk, 387, 439, 440
Slaves, owned by Indians, 199, 200, 229
Sleeping Rabbit, tribal leader, 202
Smith, Margaret, 228

467

Smith, Nimrod J., Cherokee chief, 230,
231

Smith, Rev. W. W., 60

Smokehole, 347

Snake, 143, 249, 392, 393, 412, 416, 421,
439

rattles and teeth, 193, 272

Snow Bird, Indian community, 261, 308,
315

Social groups, 244, 366-367

Social Security Act, 304

Social workers, 291

Soco, N.C., 226, 235, 296, 297, 315, 318

Soco Creek, 23, 102

Soco Gap, 233

Soco Valley, 46

Son, ele 365, 389, 391, 393, 394,
42

wishes for success of, 159
Songs, power from, 151
Son-in-law, 358, 373, 425
Sons of Temperance, Cherokee society,
212

Sororate, 362, 365

Southern Methodist University, 9

Spanish-Americans, 334, 335, 338, 340,
341, 342, 360

Sparrow, 431

Speck, Frank G., 405, 406, 408, 420

Speck, Frank G., and Broom, Leonard,
435

Speck, drank G., and Shaeffer, Claude

Speeches, made at conferences, 206

Spencer, Katherine, 371

Spices, cooking, 348

Spindler, George, 224, 243, 244, 245

Spindler, George, and Goldschmidt, W.,
225, 244, 279

Spindler, peConee) and Spindler, Louise,
24

Spinning wheel, imported from Eng-
land, 195
Spirits, communication with, 185, 198
Spoons, 192
Spray, Mrs., wife of superintendent of
training school, 231
Spruce trees, 432
red, 237
Spuhler, J. N., 357, 359, 361, 364
Squash, 120, 346, 348
Squirrels, 189
flying, 432
Squirrelskins, 344
Stanley, John Mix, 191
Starkey, Marion L., 205
Starr, Frederick, 67, 180, 181, 196, 202,
209

Stock tanks, 347

Stone objects, 343

Stone roller (Campostoma), 441

Stones, brown (divining), 413, 424
hot, 142

Stove, 247, 256, 347
fuel for, 248

Stovepipe, 247

468

Straight Creek, 430

Straight Fork, N.C., 223

Strawberries, 236

Strawberry Plains, Tenn., 105

Strodtback, Fred, 372

Sturtevant, William C., 9

Stutterer, 354

Sugar, 69, 88, 125, 138, 192, 348

Sumac, 426

Supernatural world, 161, 162, 163

Swain County, N.C., 233, 241, 406,
424, 435

Swans, 189

Swanton, John R., 184, 391, 392, 397,
398, 405, 408, 410, 416, 420, 422,
424, 425, 427, 480, 438, 441,
443, 444

Sweat bath, 141, 142, 171, 172, 338, 371

Sweat house, 142, 347

Swimmer Branch, N.C., 223

Swimmer MS., 386

Swine, see Pigs.

Sycamore, 145

Taboos, 160, 161, 162, 163, 389

Tacks, 88

Tahlequah, capital of the Cherokee
Nation, 209, 211, 212

Tahquette, John, Cherokee chief, 232

Tah-skeegee, Indian town on Ten-
nessee River, 196

Takatoga, council held at, 208

Tama Reservation, 244

Tampa Bay, 17

Tanning, 344

Tar paper, 247

Tarpaulin, placed on ground for dance,
142, 147, 152, 159

Tasgigi Indians, 17, 406, 408, 420

Taxes, Cherokee, 31, 47-48, 79-85

Television, 254

Telling, Irving, 334, 335, 337

Ten Kate, Herman F. C., 391, 398

Tennessee River, 195, 196

Tents, 135, 137 (fig.), 138

pili oe 398, 399, 400, 407, 408,

0

connection with creation myth, 187
mud, 416
Terrapin shells, 417, 418
rattles of, worn by women dancers,
193, 417
Terrell, James, 68, 79, 85, 93, 398
Tessay, Calvert, 117
Tessay, Nashley (interpreter), 117
Teton Dakota tribe, 243
Thomas, Robert K., 224, 225, 226, 227,
236, 242, 245, 246, 260, 266, 274,
275, 279, 285, 288, 289, 290, 295,
298, 301, 302, 305, 312, 313, 314
continuum of, 245-247, 311-317
Thomas, Will H., 10, 11, 20, 31, 46, 48,
60, 63, 85, 93, 105, 228, 229
legion named after, 230
taxes on land of, 84

BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY

[BuLL. 196]

Thomas Gilcrease Institute of American
History and Art, 191, 199
Thompson, Laura, 227, 295
Thongs, hide, 344
Thoreau area, 360, 361, 362, 366
Threads, wool, 344
Timber, 196, 233, 235, 237
illegal cutting of, 10
See also Land.
Timberlake, Henry, 192
Tinaja Valley, 334
families of, 340
Tipi, hide, 243
Tags anes White Mountain Apache,

Tobacco, 15, 236
burley, 252
seedlings, 252
Tobacco pouch, 15
Tomasson, Evanelle, 228
Tomatoes, 252
Tooker, Elizabeth, 389
Tools, 335, 348
hafting, 344
Tortillas, 142, 146
Townhouse, 417, 446
Toys, 250
Tractors, 345, 346
Traders, 221, 241, 334, 341
English and Scottish, 195
Mormon, 371
Trading, 346
licenses for, 237 (table), 318-320,
346

posts, 20, 85, 90, 93, 104, 105, 125,
163, 165, 222
stores, 334, 345, 348, 371
Trailers, owned by Indians, 226
Treasury, Cherokee, 12, 18, 14, 15, 17,
18-19, 20, 47, 54, 83, 89, 102, 199,
318
See also Debts; Loans; Taxes.
Treaties:
Fort Gibson, 204
Holston (1791), 196
Hopewell (1785), 196, 200
Indian Spring (1821), 195
Nequassee, 193
New Echota (1835), 204, 206
Peace, Cherokee and Creek, 195
St. Louis, 204
Saluda, 193
Tellico (1798), 196
Washington (1806), 6
Washington (1819), 180, 205
with Cherokee renegades, 206
with United States, 196, 204
with Western Cherokees (1828), 198
Trent, Max, 9
Truant officers, 286
Truckdrivers, 305
Trucks, scarcity of, 163, 166
pickup, 126, 129, 136, 138, 252, 345
Tschopik, Harry, 336, 342, 345
Tubers, 346
Tuckasegee River, 401, 424

INDEX

Tucson, Ariz., 119
Tulipay, see Intoxicants.
Tulsa, Okla., 191
Turkey, 188, 189, 196, 386, 387, 389,
405, 410, 428, 439
wings of, used for fans, 191
Turquoise, attached to eagle feathers,
129, 132, 143, 144 (fig.), 162
Turtle, see Terrapin.
Two Wells area, 360

Uncle, 285
maternal, 366, 373
Underhill, Ruth M., 334, 335, 342
United Pueblos Agency, Albuquerque,
336, 370
United States Geological Survey, 335
United States Government, agencies and
bureaus of, 120, 195, 198, 199,
203, 204, 205, 221, 226, 233, 236,
239, 240, 242, 245, 253, 303, 304,
317, 318, 320, 321, 335, 348
Indian agencies, 205, 222, 228, 230,
232, 234, 237, 238, 239, 318, 319,
335, 336, 346, 370, 371
Indian dependence on, 336
policy toward Indians, 303
See also Bureau of American Eth-
nology; Bureau of Indian Affairs;
United States Geological Survey;
United States Public Health
Service.
United States Public Health Service,
225, 251, 253, 254, 260, 261, 262,
263, 264, 267, 268, 271-272, 276,
277, 320, 356
United States Sixth Cavalry, 121
University of Michigan, 357
University of North Carolina, 224, 226,
227, 228
University of Oklahoma, 9
University of Tennessee, 254
University of Washington, 9
Ute Indians, 342

Values:
Apache, 163-170
Cherokee, 245, 246, 289-311
monetary, 348, 349
Navaho, 372-374
Vassar Corporation, 319
Vegetables, 236, 346
See also Plants.
Venison, see Deer.
Verde River, 119
Vestal, Paul A., 345, 346
Vinita, Okla., 179, 180, 181
Violin, 97
Voget, Fred, 224, 225, 244, 245
Vogt, en Z., 117, 266, 289, 331, 338,

Wagley, nee and Harris, Marvin,
24

Wagons, 345
Wahnenauhi, see Keys, Mrs. Lucy L.

469

Walapai Indians, 333, 342, 350
Walker, Robert Sparks, 181, 202
Walnuts, 192
War, 196, 344
bonnets, adopted from Plains In-
dians, 222
See also Arrows; Bows; Crime;
Guns; Land; Myths; Scalps.
War Between the States, 5, 6, 7, 85, 105,
109, 181-183, 230
Warehouse, 232
Warner, Lloyd, et al., 224, 279, 313
Warriors, 203
Washing machines, owned by some
Cherokees, 241, 256
Washington, President George, 180, 199,
200

Wasps, 389
fa ali near Franklin, N.C.,
4
Water, 196, 317, 320
transported by women, 163, 259
sources of, 163, 164, 255, 256, 257,
258, 259, 347
wells, 347
Waterbags, 344
Waterdogs, 429
Watermelon, 201, 442
Watie, Stand, Cherokee chief, 182
family of, 228
Watts, John, 180
Waynesville, N.C., 46, 90, 273, 282
Weasel, 421
Weaving, 195, 335, 344, 349
Webber, Col. Walter, Third Chief, 204
Weber, Max, 247, 289, 299, 313
Webster, near Qualla, 90
Welfare, public, 226, 239, 240, 242, 245,
303, 320, 321
See also Income.
Wheat, 346, 402
Whippoorwills, fear of, 296, 297, 307
hunting of, 297
White-Indians, 245, 251
White man, 121, 138, 184, 194, 205, 231,
232, 241, 242, 244, 245, 246, 273,
287, 290, 291, 298, 299, 305, 306,
307, 309, 314, 315, 316, 319, 356,
372, 432, 443
attitude of Apache Indians toward,
122-123
attitude of Cherokee Indians to-
ward, 205, 206, 207, 221, 237, 239,
241, 242, 244
tests given to children of, 227, 294
(table), 295
values of, expressed by Indians,
245, 246
White Oak Place, 104
White River, 126, 128, 132, 138
White Springs, 136
Whittier, N.C., 85, 252, 280
Wickiups, grass, 121, 129, 135, 136 (fig.),
137 (fig.), 143, 147, 148, 150, 152,
159, 160, 161, 163
Widowers, 361, 362, 365

470 BUREAU OF AMERICAN ETHNOLOGY [BuLL. 196]

Widows, 226, 353, 361, 365 Woodshed, 252
Wife, 125, 126, 127, 135, 139, 197, 250, | Wool, 20, 343, 344, 348
304, 308, 362, 372, 373, 389, 393,| Worcester, Rev. Samuel A., 109, 180,

396, 418, 419, 423, 424, 425, 438 182, 185, 2038, 212
brother of, 127, 137, 138 Worcester, Samuel A., and Foreman,
daughter of, 363 Stephen, 61
divorced, 366 World Wein II, effect on Indians, 338,
father of, 127, 135 339, 371
parents of, 127 veterans of, 251, 308, 370
Willstown, Ala., 179, 181 Wren, winter, 389, 402, 403
Wills Valley, Ala., 202 Wyman, Leland C., 343
Window Rock, Ariz., 336, 370
Witchcraft, 161, 164, 165, 356, 371 Yale University, 9
fear of, 165, 166, 185, 369 Yaqui Indians, 333, 342

Witches, 164, 165, 171, 186, 187, 369,| Yard, condition of, 250, 256, 257, 259,
260

ber regarding, 164, 185, 259, 296,| Yellow Hill, Indian Village, 68, 430, 434

Witthoft, John, and Hadlock, Wendell| Yellow Hill Township, 105
39

S., Yellow jackets (di:n(a)datsv:sgi), 389,
Wizards, 389, 390, 411, 412, 413, 417, 437, 443

424 Yellow ocher, 143
Wolf, Eric, 243 Young, Robert W., 335
Wolfe, Jack, 9 Young, Virginia, 231

Wolftown, Cherokee towne re De. Yucatan, 243
23, 42, 44, 45, 48, 53, 54, 56, 60, Yucca, 120, 346
68, 82, 102, 235, 254, 317, 318 a = , exch
ofiaaiarad 0, 19, 51, 78, 85-86, 106 Yuchi Indians, Chisca division of, 4380
politics, 21-23

Wolftown Township, 77, 84, 89 Zuni, N. Mex., 333, 334, 374

(Wolftown) Township Aid Fund, 12 Zuni Agency, 335

Wolves, 189, 398, 438, 439 Zuni Indian Reservation, 333

Wood, 248, 346 Zuni Indians, 333, 334, 336, 340, 342,
as building material, 223 350, 371

objects of, 343 farming village, 360

U.S. GOVERNMENT PRINTING OFFICE: 1966

VA)

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mon!