University of Virginia Library

JOCASSEE.

1. I.

“Keowee Old Fort,” as the people in that
quarter style it, is a fine antique ruin and relic of
the revolution, in the district of Pendleton, South
Carolina. The region of country in which we
find it, of itself, is highly picturesque and interesting.
The broad river of Keowee, which runs
through it, though comparatively small, as a
stream, in America, would put to shame, by its
size, not less than its beauty, one half of the far-famed
and boasted rivers of Europe; — and then
the mountains, through and among which it winds
its way, embody more of beautiful situation and
romantic prospect, than art can well figure to the
eye, or language convey to the imagination. To
understand, you must see it. Words are of little

avail when the ideas overcrowd utterance; and
even vanity itself is content to be dumb in the
awe inspired by a thousand prospects, like Niagara,
the ideal of a god, and altogether beyond
the standards common to humanity.

It is not long since I wandered through this interesting
region, under the guidance of my friend,
Col. G—, who does the honors of society,
in that quarter, with a degree of ease and unostentatious
simplicity, which readily makes the visiter
at home. My friend was one of those citizens to
whom one's own country is always of paramount
interest, and whose mind and memory, accordingly,
have been always most happily employed when
storing away and digesting into pleasing narrative
those thousand little traditions of the genius loci,
which give life to rocks and valleys, and people
earth with the beautiful colors and creatures of
the imagination. These, for the gratification
of the spiritual seeker, he had forever in readiness;
and, with him to illustrate them, it is not
surprising if the grove had a moral existence in
my thoughts, and all the waters around breathed,
and were instinct with poetry. To all his narratives
I listened with a satisfaction which book-stories
do not often afford me. The more he told,
the more he had to tell; for nothing staled

There may have been something in the style of
telling his stories; there was much, certainly, that
was highly attractive in his manner of doing
every thing, and this may have contributed not a
little to the success of his narratives. Perhaps,
too, my presence, upon the very scene of each
legend, may have given them a life and a vraisemblance
they had wanted otherwise.

In this manner, rambling about from spot to
spot, I passed five weeks, without being, at any
moment, conscious of time's progress. Day after
day, we wandered forth in some new direction,
contriving always to secure, and without effort,
that pleasurable excitement of novelty, for which
the great city labors in vain, spite of her varying
fashions, and crowding, and not always innocent
indulgences. From forest to river, from
hill to valley, still on horseback, — for the mountainous
character of the country forbade any more
luxurious form of travel, — we kept on our way,
always changing our ground with the night, and
our prospect with the morning. In this manner
we travelled over or round the Six Mile, and the
Glassy, and a dozen other mountains; and sometimes,
with a yet greater scope of adventure,

pushed off on a much longer ramble, — such as
took us to the falls of the White Water, and gave
us a glimpse of the beautiful river of Jocassée,
named sweetly after the Cherokee maiden, who
threw herself into its bosom on beholding the scalp
of her lover dangling from the neck of his conqueror.
The story is almost a parallel to that of
the sister of Horatius, with this difference, that
our Cherokee girl did not wait for the vengeance
of her brother, and altogether spared her reproaches.
I tell the story, which is pleasant and
curious, in the language of my friend, from whom
I first heard it.

2. II.

“The Occonies and the Little Estatoees, or,
rather, the Brown Vipers and the Green Birds,
were both minor tribes of the Cherokee nation,
between whom, as was not unfrequently the case,
there sprung up a deadly enmity. The Estatoees
had their town on each side of the two creeks,
which, to this day, keep their name, and on the
eastern side of the Keowee river. The Occonies
occupied a much larger extent of territory, but it
lay on the opposite, or west side of the same river.

Their differences were supposed to have arisen
from the defeat of Chatuga, a favorite leader of
the Occonies, who aimed to be made a chief of
the nation at large. The Estatoee warrior, Toxaway,
was successful; and as the influence of
Chatuga was considerable with his tribe, he labored
successfully to engender in their bosoms a
bitter dislike of the Estatoees. This feeling was
made to exhibit itself on every possible occasion.
The Occonies had no word too foul by which to
describe the Estatoees. They likened them, in
familiar speech, to every thing which, in the Indian
imagination, is accounted low and contemptible.
In reference to war, they were reputed women, —
in all other respects, they were compared to dogs
and vermin; and, with something of a Christian
taste and temper, they did not scruple, now and
then, to invoke the devil of their more barbarous
creed, for the eternal disquiet of their successful
neighbors, the Little Estatoees, and their great
chief, Toxaway.

“In this condition of things there could not be
much harmony; and, accordingly, as if by mutual
consent, there was but little intercourse between
the two people. When they met, it was
either to regard one another with a cold, repulsive
distance, or else, as enemies, actively to foment

quarrel and engage in strife. But seldom, save
on national concerns, did the Estatoees cross the
Keowee to the side held by the Occonies; and
the latter, more numerous, and therefore less reluctant
for strife than their rivals, were yet not often
found on the opposite bank of the same river.
Sometimes, however, small parties of hunters from
both tribes, rambling in one direction or another,
would pass into the enemy's territory; but this
was not frequent, and when they met, quarrel and
bloodshed were sure to mark the adventure.

“But there was one young warrior of the Estatoees,
who did not give much heed to this condition
of parties, and who, moved by an errant spirit,
and wholly insensible to fear, would not hesitate,
when the humor seized him, to cross the
river, making quite as free, when he did so, with
the hunting-grounds of the Occonies as they did
themselves. This sort of conduct did not please
the latter very greatly, but Nagoochie was always
so gentle, and at the same time so brave, that the
young warriors of Occony either liked or feared
him too much to throw themselves often in his
path, or labor, at any time, to arrest his progress.

“In one of these excursion, Nagoochie made
the acquaintance of Jocassée, one of the sweetest

of the dusky daughters of Occony. He was
rambling, with bow and quiver, in pursuit of game,
as was his custom, along that beautiful enclosure,
which the whites have named after her, the Jocassée
valley. The circumstances under which they
met were all strange and exciting, and well calculated
to give her a power over the young hunter,
to which the pride of the Indian does not often
suffer him to submit. It was towards evening
when Nagoochie sprung a fine buck from a hollow
of the wood along side him, and just before you
reach the ridge of rocks which hem in and form
this beautiful valley. With the first glimpse of his
prey, flew the keen shaft of Nagoochie; but,
strange to say, though renowned as a hunter, not
less than as a warrior, the arrow failed entirely,
and flew wide of the victim. Off he bounded
headlong after the fortunate buck; but though,
every now and then, getting him within range, —
for the buck took the pursuit coolly, — the hunter
still most unaccountably failed to strike him.
Shaft after shaft had fallen seemingly hurtless from
his sides; and though, at frequent intervals, suffered
to approach so nigh to the animal that he
could not but hope still for better fortune, to his
great surprise, the wary buck would dash off
when he least expected it, bounding away in some
new direction, with as much life and vigor as
ever. What to think of this, the hunter knew
not; but such repeated disappointments at length
impressed it strongly upon his mind, that the object
he pursued was neither more nor less than an
Occony wizard, seeking to entrap him; so, with
a due feeling of superstition, and a small touch of
sectional venom aroused into action within his
heart, Nagoochie, after the manner of his people,
promised a green bird — the emblem of his tribe
— in sacrifice to the tutelar divinity of Estato, if
he could only be permitted to overcome the potent
enchanter, who had thus dazzled his aim and blunted
his arrows. He had hardly uttered this vow,
when he beheld the insolent deer mincingly grazing
upon a beautiful tuft of long grass in the valley,
just below the ledge of rock upon which he
stood. Without more ado, he pressed forward to
bring him within fair range of his arrows, little
doubting, at the moment, that the Good Spirit
had heard his prayer, and had granted his desire.
But, in his hurry, leaping too hastily forward,
and with eyes fixed only upon his proposed victim,
his foot was caught by the smallest stump in the
world, and the very next moment found him precipitated
directly over the rock and into the valley,
within a few paces of the deer, who made off
with the utmost composure, looking back, as he
did so, to the eyes of the wounded hunter, for all
the world as if he enjoyed the sport mightily.
Nagoochie, as he saw this, gravely concluded that
he had fallen a victim to the wiles of the Occony
wizard, and looked confidently to see half a score
of Occonies upon him, taking him at a vantage.
Like a brave warrior, however, he did not despond,
but determining to gather up his loins for
battle and the torture, he sought to rise and put
himself in a state of preparation. What, however,
was his horror, to find himself utterly unable
to move; — his leg had been broken in the fall,
and he was covered with bruises from head to foot.

“Nagoochie gave himself up for lost; but he
had scarcely done so, when he heard a voice, —
the sweetest, he thought, he had ever heard in his
life, — singing a wild, pleasant song, such as the
Occonies love, which, ingeniously enough, summed
up the sundry reasons why the mouth, and
not the eyes, had been endowed with the faculty
of eating. These reasons were many, but the last
is quite enough for us. According to the song,
had the eyes, and not the mouth, been employed
for this purpose, there would soon be a famine in
the land, for of all gluttons, the eyes are the greatest.
Nagoochie groaned aloud, as he heard the

song, the latter portion of which completely indicated
the cause of his present misfortune. It
was, indeed, the gluttony of the eyes which had
broken his leg. This sort of allegory the Indians
are fond of, and Jocassée knew all their legends.
Certainly, thought Nagoochie, though his leg
pained him wofully at the time, — certainly I
never heard such sweet music, and such a voice.
The singer advanced as she sung, and almost
stumbled over him.

“`Who are you?' she asked timidly, neither
retreating nor advancing; and, as the wounded
man looked into her face, he blessed the Occony
wizard, by whose management he deemed his leg
to have been broken.

“`Look?' was the reply of the young warrior,
throwing aside the bearskin which covered his
bosom, — `look, girl of Occony! 'tis the totem
of a chief;' and the green bird stamped upon his
left breast, as the badge of his tribe, showed him
a warrior of Estato, and something of an enemy.
But his eyes had no enmity, and then the broken
leg! Jocassée was a gentle maiden, and her heart
melted with the condition of the warrior. She
made him a sweet promise, in very pretty language,
and with the very same voice, the music of
which was so delicious; and then, with the fleetness

of a young doe, she went off to bring him
succor.

3. III.

“Night, in the meanwhile, came on; and the
long howl of the wolf, as he looked down from
the crag, and waited for the thick darkness in
which to descend the valley, came freezingly to
the ear of Nagoochie. `Surely,' he said to himself,
`the girl of Occony will come back. She
has too sweet a voice not to keep her word. She
will certainly come back.' While he doubted,
he believed. Indeed, though still a very young
maiden, the eyes of Jocassée had in them a great
deal that was good for little beside, than to persuade,
and force conviction; and the belief in
them was pretty extensive in the circle of her rustic
acquaintance. All people love to believe in
fine eyes, and nothing more natural than for lovers
to swear by them. Nagoochie did not swear by
those of Jocassée, but he did most religiously believe
in them; and though the night gathered
fast, and the long howl of the wolf came close
from his crag, down into the valley, the young

hunter of the green bird did not despair of the
return of the maiden.

“She did return, and the warrior was insensible.
But the motion stirred him; the lights gleamed
upon him from many torches; he opened his eyes,
and when they rested upon Jocassée, they forgot
to close again. She had brought aid enough, for
her voice was powerful as well as musical; and,
taking due care that the totem of the green bird
should be carefully concealed by the bearskin,
with which her own hands covered his bosom, she
had him lifted upon a litter, constructed of several
young saplings, which, interlaced with withes,
binding it closely together, and strewn thickly with
leaves, made a couch as soft as the wounded man
could desire. In a few hours, and the form of
Nagoochie rested beneath the roof of Attakulla,
the sire of Jocassée. She sat beside the young
hunter, and it was her hand that placed the pure
balm upon his lips, and poured into his wounds
and bruises the strong and efficacious balsam of
Indian pharmacy.

“Never was nurse more careful of her charge.
Day and night she watched by him, and few were
the hours which she then required for her own pleasure
or repose. Yet why was Jocassée so devoted
to the stranger? She never asked herself so

unnecessary a question; but as she was never so
well satisfied, seemingly, as when near him, the
probability is she found pleasure in her tendance.
It was fortunate for him and for her, that her father
was not rancorous towards the people of the
Green Bird, like the rest of the Occonies. It
might have fared hard with Nagoochie otherwise.
But Attakulla was a wise old man, and a good;
and when they brought the wounded stranger to
his lodge, he freely yielded him shelter, and went
forth himself to Chinabee, the wise medicine of
the Occonies. The eyes of Nagoochie were turned
upon the old chief, and when he heard his
name, and began to consider where he was, he
was unwilling to task the hospitality of one who
might be disposed to regard him, when known,
in an unfavorable or hostile light. Throwing
aside, therefore, the habit of circumspection, which
usually distinguishes the Indian warrior, he uncovered
his bosom, and bade the old man look upon
the totem of his people, precisely as he had done
when his eye first met that of Jocassée.

“`Thy name? What do the people of the
Green Bird call the young hunter?' asked Attakulla.

“`They name Nagoochie among the braves of

the Estato: they will call him a chief of the Cherokee,
like Toxaway,' was the proud reply.

“This reference was to a sore subject with the
Occonies, and perhaps it was quite as imprudent
as it certainly was in improper taste for him to
make it. But knowing where he was, excited by
fever, and having — to say much in little — but
an unfavorable opinion of Occony magnanimity,
he was more rash than reasonable. At that moment,
too, Jocassée had made her appearance,
and the spirit of the young warrior, desiring to
look big in her eyes, had prompted him to a fierce
speech not altogether necessary. He knew not
the generous nature of Attakulla; and when the
old man took him by the hand, spoke well of the
Green Bird, and called him his `son,' the pride of
Nagoochie was something humbled, while his
heart grew gentler than ever. His `son!' that
was the pleasant part; and as the thoughts grew
more and more active in his fevered brain, he
looked to Jocassée with such a passionate admiration
that she sunk back with a happy smile from
the flame-glance which he set upon her. And day
after day she tended him, until the fever passed
off, and the broken limb was set and had reknitted,
and the bruises were all healed upon him.
Yet he lingered. He did not think himself quite

well, and she always agreed with him in opinion.
Once and again did he set off, determined not to
return, but his limb pained him, and he felt the
fever come back, whenever he thought of Jocasée;
and so the evening found him again at the
lodge, while the fever-balm, carefully bruised in
milk, was in as great demand as ever for the invalid.
But the spirit of the warrior at length
grew ashamed of these weaknesses; and, with a
desperate effort, for which he gave himself no little
credit, he completed his determination to depart
with the coming of the new moon. But even this
decision was only effected by compromise. Love
settled the affair with conscience, after his own fashion,
and under his direction, following the dusky
maiden into the little grove that stood beside the
cottage, Nagoochie claimed her to fill the lodge
of a young warrior of the Green Bird. She
broke the wand which he presented her, and seizing
upon the torch which she carried, he buried it
in the bosom of a neighboring brook, and thus,
after their simple forest ceremonial, Jocassée became
the betrothed of Nagoochie.

4. IV.

“But we must keep this secret to ourselves, for
as yet it remained unknown to Attakulla, and the
time could not come for its revealment until the
young warrior had gone home to his people. Jocassée
was not so sure that all parties would be so
ready as herself to sanction her proceeding. Of
her father's willingness, she had no question, for
she knew his good nature and good sense; but
she had a brother of whom she had many fears
and misgivings. He was away, on a great hunt
of the young men, up at Charashilactay, or the
falls of the White Water, as we call it to this day
— a beautiful cascade of nearly forty feet, the
water of which is of a milky complexion. How
she longed, yet how she dreaded, to see that brother?
He was a fierce, impetuous, sanguinary
youth, who, to these characteristics, added another
still more distasteful to Jocassée; — there was not
a man among all the Occonies who so hated the
people of the Green Bird as Cheochee. What
hopes, or rather what fears, were in the bosom of
that maiden!

“But he came not. Day after day they looked

for his return, and yet he came not; but in his
place a runner, with a bearded stick, a stick covered
with slips of skin, torn from the body of a wolf.
The runner passed by the lodge of Attakulla, and
all its inmates were aroused by the intelligence he
brought. A wolf-hunt was commanded by Moitoy,
the great war-chief or generalissimo of the
Cherokee nation, to take place, instanter, at Charashilactay,
where an immense body of wolves had
herded together, and had become troublesome
neighbors. Old and young, who had either
taste for the adventure, or curiosity to behold it,
at once set off upon the summons; and Attakulla,
old as he was, and Nagoochie, whose own great
prowess in hunting had made it a passion, determined
readily upon the journey. Jocassée, too,
joined the company, — for the maidens of Cherokee
were bold spirits, as well as beautiful, and
loved to ramble, particularly when, as in the present
instance, they went in company with their
lovers. Lodge after lodge, as they pursued their
way, poured forth its inmates, who joined them in
their progress, until the company had swollen into
a goodly caravan, full of life, anxious for sport,
and carrying, as is the fashion among the Indians,
provisions of smoked venison and parched grain,
in plenty, for many days.

“They came, at length, to the swelling hills,
the long narrow valleys of the Keochee, and its
tribute river of Toxaway, named after that great
chief of the Little Estatoees, of whom we have
already heard something. At one and the same
moment, they beheld the white waters of Charashilactay,
plunging over the precipice, and the
hundred lodges of the Cherokee hunters. There
they had gathered — the warriors and their women
— twenty different tribes of the same great
nation being represented on the ground; each
tribe having its own cluster of cabins, and rising
up in the midst of each, the long pole on which
hung the peculiar emblem of the clan. It was
not long before Nagoochie marshalled himself
along with his brother Estatoees — who had counted
him lost — under the beautiful green bird of
his tribe, which waved about in the wind, over the
heads of their small community.

“The number of warriors representing the Estato
in that great hunt was inconsiderable — but
fourteen — and the accession, therefore, of so
promising a brave as Nagoochie was no small
matter. They shouted with joy at his coming,
and danced gladly in the ring between the lodges
— the young women, in proper taste, and with

due spirit, hailing, with a sweet song, the return
of so handsome a youth, and one yet unmarried.

“Over against the lodges of the Estatoees, lay
the more imposing encampment of the rival Occonies,
who turned out strongly, as it happened, on
this occasion. They were more numerous than
any other of the assembled tribes, as the hunt was
to take place on a portion of their own territory.
Conscious of their superiority, they had not, you
may be sure, forborne any of the thousand sneers
and sarcasms which they were never at a loss to
find when they spoke of the Green Bird warriors;
and of all their clan, none was so bitter, so uncompromising,
generally, in look, speech, and action,
as Cheochee, the fierce brother of the beautiful
Jocassée. Scorn was in his eye, and sarcasm
on his lips, when he heard the rejoicings made by
the Estatoees on the return of the long-lost hunter.

“`Now wherefore screams the painted bird to-day?
why makes he a loud cry in the ears of the
brown viper that can strike?' he exclaimed contemptuously
yet fiercely.

“It was Jocassée that spoke in reply to her brother,
with the quickness of woman's feeling, which
they wrong greatly who hold it subservient to the
strength of woman's cunning. In her reply,
Cheochee saw the weakness of her heart.

“`They scream for Nagoochie,' said the girl;
`it is joy that the young hunter comes back that
makes the green bird to sing to-day.'

“`Has Jocassée taken a tongue from the green
bird, that she screams in the ears of the brown
viper? What has the girl to do with the thought
of the warrior? Let her go — go, bring drink to
Cheochee.'

“Abashed and silent, she did as he commanded,
and brought meekly to the fierce brother, a gourd
filled with the brown beer which the Cherokees
love. She had nothing further to say on the subject
of the Green Bird warrior, for whom she had
already so unwarily spoken. But her words had
not fallen unregarded upon the ears of Cheochee,
nor had the look of the fond heart which spoke
out in her glance, passed unseen by the keen eye
of that jealous brother. He had long before this
heard of the great fame of Nagoochie as a
hunter, and in his ire he was bent to surpass him.
Envy had grown into hate, when he heard that
this great reputation was that of one of the accursed
Estatoees; and, not satisfied with the desire
to emulate, he also aimed to destroy. This feeling
worked like so much gall in his bosom; and
when his eyes looked upon the fine form of Nagoochie,
and beheld its symmetry, grace, and

manhood, his desire grew into a furious passion
which made him sleepless. The old chief, Attakulla,
his father, told him all the story of Nagoochie's
accident — how Jocassée had found him;
and how, in his own lodge, he had been nursed
and tended. The old man spoke approvingly of
Nagoochie; and, the better to bring about a good
feeling for her lover, Jocassée humbled herself
greatly to her brother, — anticipated his desires,
and studiously sought to serve him. But all this
failed to effect a favorable emotion in the breast
of the malignant young savage towards the young
hunter of the Green Bird. He said nothing,
however, of his feelings; but they looked out and
were alive to the sight in every feature, whenever
any reference, however small, was made to the
subject of his ire. The Indian feeling is subtlety,
and Cheochee was a warrior already named by
the old chiefs of Cherokee.

5. V.

“The next day came the commencement of the
great hunt, and the warriors were up betimes and
active. Stations were chosen, the keepers of
which, converging to a centre, were to hem in

the wild animal on whose tracks they were going.
The wolves were known to be in a hollow of the
hills near Charashilactay, which had but one
outlet; and points of close approximation across
this outlet were the stations of honor; for, goaded
by the hunters to this passage, and failing of
egress in any other, the wolf, it was well known,
would be then dangerous in the extreme. Well
calculated to provoke into greater activity the jealousies
between the Occonies and the Green Birds,
was the assignment made by Moitoy, the chief, of
the more dangerous of these stations to these two
clans. They now stood alongside of one another,
and the action of the two promised to be
joint and corresponsive. Such an appointment, in
the close encounter with the wolf, necessarily promised
to bring the two parties into immediate contact;
and such was the event. As the day advanced,
and the hunters, contracting their circles,
brought the different bands of wolves into one,
and pressed upon them to the more obvious and
indeed the only outlet, the badges of the Green
Bird and the Brown Viper — the one consisting
of the stuffed skin and plumage of the Carolina
parrot, and the other the attenuated viper, filled
out with moss, and winding, with erect head,
around the pole, to the top of which it was stuck
— were at one moment, in the indiscriminate hunt,
almost mingled over the heads of the two parties.
Such a sight was pleasant to neither, and would,
at another time, of a certainty, have brought
about a squabble. As it was, the Occonies drove
their badge-carrier from one to the other end of
their ranks, thus studiously avoiding the chance
of another collision between the viper so adored,
and the green bird so detested. The pride of the
Estatoees was exceedingly aroused at this exhibition
of impertinence, and though a quiet people
enough, they began to think that forbearance had
been misplaced in their relations with their presuming
and hostile neighbors. Had it not been
for Nagoochie, who had his own reasons for suffering
yet more, the Green Birds would certainly
have plucked out the eyes of the Brown Vipers,
or tried very hard to do it; but the exhortations
to peace of the young warrior, and the near
neighborhood of the wolf, quelled any open show
of the violence they meditated; but, Indian-like,
they determined to wait for the moment of greatest
quiet, as that most fitted for taking away a few
scalps from the Occony. With a muttered curse,
and a contemptuous slap of the hand upon their
thighs, the more furious among the Estatoees satisfied
their present anger, and then addressed
themselves more directly to the business before
them.

“The wolves, goaded to desperation by the
sound of hunters strewn all over the hills around
them, were now, snapping and snarling, and with
eyes that flashed with a terrible anger, descending
the narrow gully towards the outlet held by the
two rival tribes. A united action was therefore
demanded of those who, for a long time past, had
been conscious of no feeling or movement in common.
But here they had no choice — no time,
indeed, to think. The fierce wolves were upon
them, doubly furious at finding the only passage
stuck full of enemies. Well and manfully did
the hunters stand and seek the encounter with the
infuriated beasts. The knife and the hatchet, that
day, in the hand of Occony and Estato, did fearful
execution. The Brown Vipers fought nobly,
and with their ancient reputation. But the Green
Birds were the hunters, after all; and they were
now stimulated into double adventure and effort,
by an honorable ambition to make up for all deficiencies
of number by extra valor, and the careful
exercise of all that skill in the arts of hunting
for which they have always been the most renowned
of the tribes of Cherokee. As, one by
one, a fearful train, the wolves wound into sight

along this or that crag of the gully, arrow after
arrow told fearfully upon them, for there were no
marksmen like the Estatoees. Nor did they stop
at this weapon. The young Nagoochie, more
than ever prompted to such enterprise, led the
way; and dashing into the very path of the teeth-gnashing
and claw-rending enemy, he grappled
in desperate fight the first that offered himself,
and as the wide jaws of his hairy foe opened upon
him, with a fearful plunge at his side, adroitly
leaping to the right, he thrust a pointed stick
down, deep, as far as he could send it, into the
monster's throat, then pressing back upon him,
with the rapidity of an arrow, in spite of all his
fearful writhings he pinned him to the ground,
while his knife, in a moment after, played fatally
in his heart. Another came, and in a second, his
hatchet cleft and crunched deep into the skull of
the hairy brute, leaving him senseless, without
need of a second stroke. There was no rivalling
deeds of valour so desperate as this; and with increased
bitterness of soul did Cheochee and his
followers hate in proportion as they admired.
They saw the day close, and heard the signal
calling them to the presence of the great chief
Moitoy, conscious, though superior in numbers,
they could not at all compare in skill and success
with the long-despised, but now thoroughly-hated
Estatoees.

“And still more great the vexation, still more
deadly the hate, when the prize was bestowed by
the hand of Moitoy, the great military chief of
Cherokee —when, calling around him the tribes,
and carefully counting the number of their several
spoils, consisting of the skins of the wolves that
had been slain, it was found that of these the
greater number, in proportion to their force, had
fallen victims to the superior skill or superior daring
of the people of the Green Bird. And who
had been their leader? the rambling Nagoochie
— the young hunter who had broken his leg
among the crags of Occony, and, in the same
adventure, no longer considered luckless, had won
the young heart of the beautiful Jocassée.

“They bore the young and successful warrior
into the centre of the ring, and before the great
Moitoy. He stood up in the presence of the assembled
multitude, a brave and fearless, and fine
looking Cherokee. At the signal of the chief,
the young maidens gathered into a group, and
sung around him a song of compliment and approval,
which was just as much as to say, — `Ask,
and you shall have.' He did ask; and before
the people of the Brown Viper could so far recover

from their surprise as to interfere, or well
comprehend the transaction, the bold Nagoochie
had led the then happy Jocassée into the presence
of Moitoy and the multitude, and had claimed the
girl of Occony to fill the green lodge of the Estato
hunter.

6. VI.

“That was the signal for uproar and commotion.
The Occonies were desperately angered,
and the fierce Cheochee, whom nothing, not even
the presence of the great war-chief, could restrain,
rushed forward, and dragging the maiden violently
from the hold of Nagoochie, hurled her backward
into the ranks of his people; then, breathing nothing
but blood and vengeance, he confronted
him with ready knife and uplifted hatchet, defying
the young hunter, in that moment, to the fight.

“`E-cha-e-cha, e-herro—echa-herro-echa-herro,'
was the warwhoop of the Occonies; and it gathered
them to a man around the sanguinary
young chief who uttered it. `Echa-herro, echa-herro,'
he continued, leaping wildly in air with the
paroxysm of rage which had seized him, — `the
brown viper has a tooth for the green bird. The

Occony is athirst — he would drink blood from
the dog-heart of the Estato. E-cha-e-cha-herro,
Occony.' And again he concluded his fierce
speech with that thrilling roll of sound, which, as
the so much dreaded warwhoop, brought a death
feeling to the heart of the early pioneer, and made
the mother clasp closely, in the deep hours of the
night, the young and unconscious infant to her
bosom. But it had no such influence upon the
fearless spirit of Nagoochie. The Estato heard
him with cool composure, and though evidently
unafraid, it was yet equally evident that he was
unwilling to meet the challenger in strife. Nor
was his decision called for on the subject. The
great chief interposed, and all chance of conflict
was prevented by his intervention. In that presence
they were compelled to keep the peace,
though both the Occonies and Little Estatoees
retired to their several lodges with fever in their
veins, and a restless desire for that collision which
Moitoy had denied them. All but Nagoochie
were vexed at this denial; and all of them wondered
much that a warrior, so brave and daring
as he had always shown himself, should be so
backward on such an occasion. It was true, they
knew of his love for the girl of Occony; but
they never dreamed of such a feeling acquiring
an influence over the hunter, of so paralyzing and
unmanly a character. Even Nagoochie himself,
as he listened to some of the speeches uttered
around him, and reflected upon the insolence of
Cheochee — even he began to wish that the affair
might go over again, that he might take the hissing
viper by the neck. And poor Jocassee —
what of her when they took her back to the
lodges? She did nothing but dream all night of
Brown Vipers and Green Birds in the thick of
battle.

7. VII.

“The next day came the movement of the
hunters, still under the conduct of Moitoy, from
the one to the other side of the upper branch of
the Keowee river, now called the Jocassée, but
which, at that time, went by the name of Sarratay.
The various bands prepared to move with the daylight;
and still near, and still in sight of one another,
the Occonies and Estatoees took up their
line of march with the rest. The long poles of
the two, bearing the green bird of the one, and
the brown viper of the other, in the hands of their

respective bearers — stout warriors chosen for this
purpose with reference to strength and valor —
waved in parallel courses, though the space between
them was made as great as possible by the
common policy of both parties. Following the
route of the caravan, which had been formed of
the ancient men, the women and children, to whom
had been entrusted the skins taken in the hunt,
the provisions, utensils for cooking, &c. the great
body of hunters were soon in motion for other and
better hunting-grounds, several miles distant, beyond
the river.

“The Indian warriors have their own mode of
doing business, and do not often travel with the
stiff precision which marks European civilization.
Though having all one point of destination, each
hunter took his own route to gain it, and in this
manner asserted his independence. This had
been the education of the Indian boy, and this
self-reliance is one source of that spirit and character
which will not suffer him to feel surprise in
any situation. Their way, generally, wound
along a pleasant valley, unbroken for several
miles, until you came to Big-knob, a huge crag
which completely divides it, rising formidably up
in the midst, and narrowing the valley on either
hand to a fissure, necessarily compelling a closer

march for all parties than had heretofore been
pursued. Straggling about as they had been, of
course but little order was perceptible when they
came together, in little groups, where the mountain
forced their junction. One of the Bear tribe
found himself along side a handful of the Foxes,
and a chief of the Alligators plunged promiscuously
into the centre of a cluster of the Turkey
tribe, whose own chief was probably doing the
proper courtesies among the Alligators. These
little crossings, however, were amusing rather than
annoying, and were, generally, productive of little
inconvenience, and no strife. But it so happened,
there was one exception to the accustomed
harmony. The Occonies and Estatoees, like the
rest, had broken up in small parties, and as might
have been foreseen, when they came individually
to where the crag divided the valley into two,
some took the one and some the other hand, and
it was not until one of the paths they had taken
opened into a little plain in which the woods were
bald — a sort of prairie — that a party of seven
Occonies discovered that they had among them
two of their detested rivals, the Little Estatoees.
What made the matter worse, one of these stragglers
was the ill-fated warrior who had been
chosen to carry the badge of his tribe; and there,
high above their heads — the heads of the Brown
Vipers — floated that detestable symbol, the green
bird itself.

“There was no standing that. The Brown
Vipers, as if with a common instinct, were immediately
up in arms. They grappled the offending
stragglers without gloves. They tore the green
bird from the pole, stamped it under foot, smeared
it in the mud, and pulling out the cone-tuft of
its head, utterly degraded it in their own as well
as in the estimation of the Estatoees. Not content
with this, they hung the desecrated emblem
about the neck of the bearer of it, and, spite of
all their struggles, binding the arms of the two
stragglers behind their backs, the relentless Vipers
thrust the long pole which had borne the bird, in
such a manner between their alternate arms as
effectually to bind them together. In this manner,
amidst taunts, blows, and revilings, they were
left in the valley to get on as they might, while
their enemies, insolent enough with exultation,
proceeded to join the rest of their party.

8. VIII.

“An hundred canoes were ready on the banks
of the river Sarratay, for the conveyance to the
opposite shore of the assembled Cherokees. And
down they came, warrior after warrior, tribe after
tribe, emblem after emblem, descending from the
crags around in various order, and hurrying all
with shouts and whoops and songs, grotesquely
leaping to the river's bank, like so many boys
just let out of school. Hilarity is, indeed, the life
of nature! Civilization refines the one at the expense
of the other, and then it is that no human
luxury or sport, as known in society, stimulates
appetite for any length of time. We can only
laugh in the woods — society suffers but a smile,
and desperate sanctity, with the countenance of a
crow, frowns even at that.

“But down, around, and gathering from every
side, they came — the tens and the twenties of the
several tribes of Cherokee. Grouped along the
banks of the river, were the boats assigned to
each. Some, already filled, were sporting in
every direction over the clear bosom of that beautiful
water. Moitoy himself, at the head of the

tribe of Nequassée, from which he came, had already
embarked; while the venerable Attakulla,
with Jocassée, the gentle, sat upon a little bank
in the neighborhood of the Occony boats, awaiting
the arrival of Cheochee and his party. And
why came they not? One after another of the
several tribes had filled their boats, and were either
on the river or across it. But two clusters of
canoes yet remained, and they were those of the
rival tribes — a green bird flaunted over the one,
and a brown viper, in many folds, was twined
about the pole of the other.

“There was sufficient reason why they came
not. The strife had begun; — for, when gathering
his thirteen warriors in a little hollow at the
termination of the valley through which they came,
Nagoochie beheld the slow and painful approach
of the two stragglers upon whom the Occonies
had so practised. When he saw the green bird
— the beautiful emblem of his tribe — disfigured
and defiled, there was no longer any measure or
method in his madness. There was no longer a
thought of Jocassée to keep him back; and the
feeling of ferocious indignation which filled his
bosom was the common feeling with his brother
warriors. They lay in wait for the coming of the
Occonies, down at the foot of the Yellow Hill,

where the woods gathered green and thick. They
were few — but half in number of their enemies
— but they were strong in ardor, strong in justice,
and even death was preferable to a longer endurance
of that dishonor to which they had already
been too long subjected. They beheld the
approach of the Brown Vipers, as, one by one,
they wound out from the gap of the mountain,
with a fierce satisfaction. The two parties were
now in sight of each other, and could not mistake
the terms of their encounter. No word was spoken
between them, but each began the scalp-song of
his tribe, preparing at the same time his weapon,
and advancing to the struggle.

“`The green bird has a bill,' sang the Estatoees;
`and he flies like an arrow to his prey.'

“`The brown viper has poison and a fang,'
responded the Occonies; `and he lies under the
net for his enemy.'

“`Give me to clutch the war-tuft,' cried the
leaders of each party, almost in the same breath.

“`To taste the blood,' cried another.

“`And make my knife laugh in the heart that
shrinks,' sung another and another.

“`I will put my foot on the heart,' cried an
Occony.

“`I tear away the scalp,' shouted an Estato, in

reply; while a joint chorus from the two parties,
promised —

“`A dog that runs, to the black spirit that
sleeps in the swamp.'

“`Echa-herro, echa-herro, echa-herro,' was the
grand cry, or fearful warwhoop, which announced
the moment of onset and the beginning of the
strife.

9. IX.

“The Occonies were not backward, though the
affair was commenced by the Estatoees. Cheochee,
their leader, was quite as brave as malignant,
and now exulted in the near prospect of that
sweet revenge for all the supposed wrongs and
more certain rivalries which his tribe had suffered
from the Green Birds. Nor was this more the
feeling with him than with his tribe. Disposing
themselves, therefore, in readiness to receive the
assault, they rejoiced in the coming of a strife, in
which, having many injuries to redress, they had
the advantages, at the same time, of position and
number.

“But their fighting at disadvantage was not
now a thought with the Little Estatoees. Their

blood was up, and like all usually patient people,
once aroused, they were not so readily quieted.
Nagoochie, the warrior now, and no longer the
lover, led on the attack. You should have seen
how that brave young chief went into battle —
how he leapt up in air, slapped his hands upon
his thighs in token of contempt for his foe, and
throwing himself open before his enemies, dashed
down his bow and arrows, and waving his hatchet,
signified to them his desire for the conflict, à l'outrance,
and, what would certainly make it so, hand
to hand. The Occonies took him at his word,
and throwing aside the long bow, they bounded
out from their cover to meet their adversaries.
Then should you have seen that meeting — that
first rush — how they threw the tomahawk — how
they flourished the knife — how the brave man
rushed to the fierce embrace of his strong enemy
— and how the two rolled along the hill in the
teeth-binding struggle of death.

“The tomahawk of Nagoochie had wings and
a tooth. It flew and bit in every direction. One
after another, the Occonies went down before it,
and still his fierce war cry of `Echa-mal-Occony,'
preceding every stroke, announced another and
another victim. They sank away from him like
sheep before the wolf that is hungry, and the disparity

of force was not so great in favor of the
Occonies, when we recollect that Nagoochie was
against them. They were now, under his fierce
valor, almost equal in number, and something
more was necessary to be done by the Occonies
before they could hope for that favorable result
from the struggle which they had before looked
upon as certain. It was for Cheochee now to
seek out and to encounter the gallant young chief
of Estato. Nagoochie, hitherto, for reasons best
known to himself, had studiously avoided the
leader of the Vipers; but he could no longer do
so. He was contending, in close strife, with Okonettee,
or the One Eyed — a stout warrior of the
Vipers — as Cheochee approached him. In the
next moment, the hatchet of Nagoochie entered
the skull of Okonettee. The One-Eyed sunk to
the ground, as if in supplication, and, seizing the
legs of his conqueror, in spite of the repeated
blows which descended from the deadly instrument,
each of which was a death, while his head
swam, and the blood filled his eyes, and his senses
were fast fleeting, he held on with a death-grasp
which nothing could compel him to forego. In
this predicament, Cheochee confronted the young
brave of Estato. The strife was short, for though
Nagoochie fought as bravely as ever, yet he
struck in vain, while the dying wretch, grappling
his legs, disordered, even by his convulsions, not
less than by his efforts, every blow which the strong
hand of Nagoochie sought to give. One arm was
already disabled, and still the dying wretch held
on to his legs. In another moment, the One-Eyed
was seized by the last spasms of death, and in his
struggles, he dragged the Estato chief to his
knees. This was the fatal disadvantage. Before
any of the Green Bird warriors could come to his
succor, the blow was given, and Nagoochie lay
under the knee of the Brown Viper. The knife
was in his heart, and the life not yet gone, when
the same instrument encircled his head, and his
swimming vision could behold his own scalp waving
in the grasp of his conqueror. The gallant
spirit of Nagoochie passed away in a vain effort
to utter his song of death — the song of a brave
warrior conscious of many victories.

10. X.

“Jocassée looked up to the hills when she heard
the fierce cry of the descending Vipers. Their
joy was madness, for they had fought with — they
had slain, the bravest of their enemies. The intoxication

of tone which Cheochee exhibited, when
he told the story of the strife, and announced his
victory, went like a death-stroke to the heart of
the maiden. But she said not a word — she uttered
no complaint — she shed no tear — but,
gliding quietly into the boat in which they were
about to cross the river, she sat silent, gazing, with
the fixedness of a marable statue, upon the still
dripping scalp of her lover, as it dangled about
the neck of his conqueror. On a sudden, just as
they had reached the middle of the stream, she
started, and her gaze was turned once more backward
upon the banks they had left, as if, on a sudden,
some object of interest had met her sight, —
then, whether by accident or design, with look still
intent in the same direction, she fell over the side,
before they could save or prevent her, and was
buried in the deep waters of Sarratay for ever.
She rose not once to the surface. The stream,
from that moment, lost the name of Sarratay, and
both whites and Indians, to this day, known it only
as the river of Jocassée. The girls of Cherokee,
however, contend that she did not sink, but walking
`the waters like a thing of life,' that she rejoined
Nagoochie, whom she saw beckoning to
her from the shore. Nor is this the only tradition.
The story goes on to describe a beautiful lodge,
one of the most select in the valley of Manneyto,
the hunter of which is Nagoochie of the Green
Bird, while the maiden who dresses his venison is
certainly known as Jocassée.”