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Myths of the Cherokee

The generic name for snakes is indädû'. They are all regarded as anida'wehï, "supernaturals," having an intimate connection with the rain and thunder gods, and possessing a certain influence over the other animal and plant tribes. It is said that the snakes, the deer, and the ginseng act as allies, so that an injury to one is avenged by all. The feeling toward snakes is one of mingled fear and reverence, and every precaution is taken to avoid killing or offending one, especially the rattlesnake. He who kills a snake. will soon see others; and should he kill a second one, so many will come around him whichever way he may turn that he will become dazed at the sight of their glistening eyes and darting tongues and will go wandering about like a crazy man, unable to find his way out of the woods. To guard against this misfortune there are certain prayers which the initiated say in order that a snake may not cross their path, and on meeting the first one of the season the hunter humbly begs of him, "Let us not see each other this summer." Certain smells, as that of the wild parsnip, and certain songs, as those of the Unika'wï or Townhouse dance, are offensive to the snakes and make them angry. For this reason the Unika'wï is held only late in the fall, after they have retired to their dens for the winter.

When one dreams of being bitten by a snake he must be treated the same as for an actual bite, because it is a snake ghost that has. bitten him; otherwise the place will swell and ulcerate in the same way, even though it be years afterwards. For fear of offending them, even in speaking, it is never said that a man has been bitten by a snake, but only that he has been "scratched by a brier." Most of the beliefs and customs in this connection have more special reference to the rattlesnake.

The rattlesnake is called utsa'nätï which may be rendered, "he has a bell," alluding to the rattle. According to a myth given elsewhere, he was once a man, and was transformed to his present shape that he might save the human race from extermination by the Sun, a mission which he accomplished successfully after others had failed. By the old men he is also spoken of as "the Thunder's necklace" (see the story of Ûñtsaiyï'), and to kill one is to destroy one of the most prized ornaments of the thunder god. In one of the formulas addressed to the Little Men, the sons of the Thunder, they are implored to take the disease snake to themselves, because "it is just what you adorn yourselves with."

For obvious reason the rattlesnake is regarded as the chief of the snake tribe and is feared and. respected accordingly. Few Cherokee will venture to kill one except under absolute necessity, and even then the crime must be atoned for by asking pardon of the snake ghost, either in person or through the mediation of a priest, according to a set formula. Otherwise the relatives of the dead snake will send one of their number to track up the offender and bite him so that he will die (see story, "The Rattlesnake's Vengeance"). The only thing of which the rattlesnake is afraid is said to be the plant known as campion, or "rattlesnake's master" (Silene stellata), which is used by the doctors to counteract the effect of the bite, and it is believed that a snake will flee in terror from the hunter who carries a small piece of the root about his person. Chewed linn bark is also applied to the bite, perhaps from the supposed occult connection between the snake and the thunder, as this tree is said to be immune from the lightning stroke.

Notwithstanding the fear of the rattlesnake, his rattles, teeth, flesh, and oil are greatly prized for occult or medical uses, the snakes being killed for this purpose by certain priests who know the necessary rites and formulas for obtaining pardon. This device for whipping the devil around the stump, and incidentally increasing their own revenues, is a common trick of Indian medicine men. Outsiders desiring to acquire this secret knowledge are discouraged by being told that it is a dangerous thing to learn, for the reason that the new initiate is almost certain to be bitten, in order that the snakes may "try" him to know if he has correctly learned the formula. When a rattlesnake is killed the head must be cut off and buried an arm's length deep in the ground and the body carefully hidden away in a hollow log. If it is left exposed to the weather, the angry snakes will send such torrents of rain that all the streams will overflow their banks. Moreover, they will tell their friends, the deer, and the ginseng in the mountains, so that these will hide themselves and the hunters will seek them in vain.

The tooth of a rattlesnake which has been killed by the priest with the proper ceremonies while the snake was lying stretched out from east to west is used to scarify patients preliminary to applying the medicine in certain ailments. Before using it the doctor holds it between the thumb and finger of his right hand and addresses it in a prayer, at the end of which the tooth "becomes alive," when it is ready for the operation. The explanation is that the tense, nervous grasp of the doctor causes his hand to twitch and the tooth to move slightly between his fingers. The rattles are worn on the head, and sometimes a portion of the flesh is eaten by ball players to make them more terrible to their opponents, but it is said to have the bad effect of making them cross to their wives. From the lower half of the body, thought to be the fattest portion, the oil is extracted and is in as great repute among the Indians for rheumatism and sore joints as among the white mountaineers. The doctor who prepares the oil must also eat the flesh of the snake. In certain seasons of epidemic a roasted (barbecued) rattlesnake was kept hanging up in the house, and every morning the father of the family bit off a small piece and chewed it, mixing it then with water, which he spit upon the bodies of the others to preserve them from the contagion. It was said to be a sure cure, but apt to make the patients hot tempered.

The copperhead, wâ'dige-askâ'lï "brown-head," although feared on account of its poisonous bite, is hated, instead of being regarded with veneration, as is the rattlesnake. It is believed to be a descendant of a great mythic serpent (see number 5) and is said to have "eyes of fire," on account of their intense brightness. The blacksnake is called gûle'gï, "the climber." Biting its body is said to be a preventive of toothache, and there is also a belief, perhaps derived from the whites, that if the body of one be hung upon a tree it will bring rain within three (four?) days. The small greensnake is called, sälikwâ'yï, the same name being also applied to a certain plant, the Eryngium virginianum, or bear grass, whose long, slender leaves bear some resemblance to a greensnake. As with the blacksnake, it is believed that toothache may be prevented and sound teeth insured as long as life lasts by biting the greensnake along its body. It must be held by the head and tail, and all the teeth at once pressed down four times along the middle of its body, but without biting into the flesh or injuring the snake. Some informants say that the operation must be repeated four times upon as many snakes and that a certain food tabu must also be observed. The water moccasin, kanegwâ'tï, is not specially regarded, but a very rare wood snake, said to resemble it except that it has blue eyes, is considered to have great supernatural powers, in what way is not specified. The repulsive but harmless spreading adder (Heterodon) is called dalïkstä', "vomiter," on account of its habit of spitting, and sometimes kwandäya'hû, a word of uncertain etymology. It was formerly a man, but was transformed into a snake in order to accomplish the destruction of the Daughter of the Sun (see the story). For its failure on this occasion it is generally despised.

The Wahnenauhi manuscript mentions a legend of a great serpent called on account of its color the "ground snake." To see it was an omen of death to the one who saw it, and if it was seen by several persons some great tribal calamity was expected. For traditions and beliefs in regard to the Uktena, the Uksuhï, and other mythic serpents, see under those headings.

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Rattlesnake – The custom of asking pardon of slain or offended animals has already been noted under number 15, “The Fourfooted Tribes,” and number 35, “The Bird Tribes” (eagle). Reverence for the rattlesnake was universal among the Indians, and has been repeatedly remarked by travelers in every part of the country. To go into a dissertation upon the great subject of serpent worship is not a part of our purpose.

The missionary Washburn tells how, among the Cherokee of Arkansas, he was once riding along, accompanied by an Indian on foot, when they discovered a poisonous snake coiled beside the path. “I observed Blanket turned aside to avoid the serpent, but made no signs of attack, and I requested the interpreter to get down and kill it. He did so, and I then inquired of Blanket why he did not kill the serpent. He answered, ‘I never kill snakes and so the snakes never kill me; but I will tell you about it when you next come to see me.’” He kept his word soon after by relating as a personal experience (probably, in fact, an Indian dream) a long story of having once been conducted by a rattlesnake to an underground council of the rattlesnake tribe, where he found all the snakes lamenting over one of their number who had been recently killed by an Indian, and debating the method of punishment, which was executed a day or two later by inflicting a fatal bite upon the offender while engaged in the ballplay (Reminiscences, pp. 208–212). As told by the missionary, the story is very much dressed up, but strikingly resembles number 58, “The Rattlesnake’s Vengeance.”

Adair, evidently confusing several Cherokee snake myths, speaks of some reputed gigantic rattlesnakes in the Cherokee mountains, with beautiful changing colors and great power of fascination, by which they drew into their jaws any living creature coming within their vision, and continues: “They call them and all of the rattlesnake kind, kings or chieftains of the snakes, and they allow one such to every different species of the brute creation. An old trader of Cheeowhee told me that for the reward of two pieces of stroud cloth he engaged a couple of young warriors to show him the place of their resort; but the headmen would not by any means allow it, on account of a superstitious tradition – for they fancy the killing of them would expose them to the danger of being bit by the other inferior species of the serpentine tribe, who love their chieftains and know by instinct those who maliciously killed them, as they fight only in their own defense and that of their young ones, never biting those who do not disturb them.” He mentions also an instance of a Chickasaw priest who, after having applied to his hands the juice of a certain plant, took up a rattlesnake without damage and laid it carefully in a hollow tree to prevent Adair’s killing it (History of the American Indians, pp. 237–238).

Of the Carolina tribes generally, Lawson, in 1701, says: “As for killing of snakes, they avoid it if they lie in their way, because their opinion is that some of the serpents’ kindred would kill some of the savage’s relations that should destroy him” (History of Carolina, p. 341).

Bartram says of the Seminoles, about 1775: “These people never kill the rattlesnake or any other serpent, saying, if they do so, the spirit of the killed snake will excite or influence his living kindred or relatives to revenge the injury or violence done to him when alive.” He recounts an amusing incident of his own experience where the Indians sent for him to come and kill a rattlesnake which had invaded their camp ground, and which they were afraid to disturb. Their request having been complied with, the Indians then insisted upon scratching him, according to the Indian custom, in order to let out some of his superabundant blood and courage, but were finally, with some difficulty, dissuaded from their purpose. “Thus it seemed that the whole was a ludicrous farce to satisfy their people and appease the manes of the dead rattlesnake” (Travels, pp. 258–261).

The trader Henry (Travels, pp. 176–179) narrates a most interesting instance from among the Ojibwa of Lake Superior in 1764. While gathering wood near the camp he was startled by a sudden rattle, and looking down discovered a rattlesnake almost at his feet, with body coiled and head raised to strike.

“I no sooner saw the snake, than I hastened to the canoe, in order to procure my gun; but, the Indians observing what I was doing, inquired the occasion, and being informed, begged me to desist. At the same time, they followed me to the spot, with their pipes and tobacco-pouches in their hands. On returning, I found the snake still coiled.

“The Indians, on their part, surrounded it, all addressing it by turns, and calling it their grandfather; but yet keeping at some distance. During this part of the ceremony, they filled their pipes; and now each blew the smoke toward the snake, who, as it appeared to me, really received it with pleasure. In a word, after remaining coiled, and receiving incense, for the space of half an hour, it stretched itself along the ground, in visible good humor. Its length was between four and five feet. Having remained outstretched for some time, at last it moved slowly away, the Indians following it, and still addressing it by the title of grandfather, beseeching it to take care of their families during their absence, and to be pleased to open the heart of Sir William Johnson [the British Indian agent, whom they were about to visit], so that he might show them charity, and fill their canoe with rum. One of the chiefs added a petition, that the snake would take no notice of the insult which had been offered him by the Englishman, who would even have put him to death, but for the interference of the Indians, to whom it was hoped he would impute no part of the offence. They further requested, that he would remain, and inhabit their country, and not return among the English; that is, go eastward.”

He adds that the appearance of the rattlesnake so far north was regarded as an extraordinary omen, and that very little else was spoken of for the rest of the evening. The next day, while steering across Lake Huron in their canoe, a terrible storm came up.

“The Indians, beginning to be alarmed, frequently called on the rattlesnake to come to their assistance. By degrees the waves grew high; and at 11 o’clock it blew a hurricane, and we expected every moment to be swallowed up. From prayers, the Indians now proceeded to sacrifices, both alike offered to the god-rattlesnake, or manito-kinibĭc. One of the chiefs took a dog, and after tying its forelegs together, threw it overboard, at the same time calling on the snake to preserve us from being drowned, and desiring him to satisfy his hunger with the carcass of the dog. The snake was unpropitious, and the wind increased. Another chief sacrificed another dog, with the addition of some tobacco. In the prayer which accompanied these gifts, he besought the snake, as before, not to avenge upon the Indians the insult which he had received from myself, in the conception of a design to put him to death. He assured the snake, that I was absolutely an Englishman, and of kin neither to him nor to them. At the conclusion of this speech, an Indian, who sat near me, observed, that if we were drowned it would be for my fault alone, and that I ought myself to be sacrificed, to appease the angry manito, nor was I without apprehensions, that in case of extremity, this would be my fate; but, happily for me, the storm at length abated, and we reached the island safely.”

The Delawares also, according to Heckewelder, called the rattlesnake grandfather and refrained from injuring him. He says: “One day, as I was walking with an elderly Indian on the banks of the Muskingum, I saw a large rattlesnake lying across the path, which I was going to kill. The Indian immediately forbade my doing so; ‘for,’ said he, ‘the rattlesnake is grandfather to the Indians, and is placed here on purpose to guard us, and to give us notice of impending danger by his rattle, which is the same as if he were to tell us, ‘look about.’ ‘Now,’ added he, ‘if we were to kill one of those, the others would soon know it, and the whole race would rise upon us and bite us.’ I observed to him that the white people were not afraid of this; for they killed all the rattlesnakes that they met with. On this he enquired whether any white man had been bitten by these animals, and of course I answered in the affirmative. ‘No wonder, then!’ replied he, ‘you have to blame yourselves for that. You did as much as declaring war against them, and you will find them in your country, where they will not fail to make frequent incursions. They are a very dangerous enemy; take care you do not irritate them in our country; they and their grandchildren are on good terms, and neither will hurt the other.’ These ancient notions have, however in a great measure died away with the last generation, and the Indians at present kill their grandfather, the rattlesnake, without ceremony, whenever they meet with him” (Indian Nations, p. 252).

Sălikwâyĭ – “The old Tuscaroras had a custom, which they supposed would keep their teeth white and strong through life. A man caught a snake and held it by its head and tail. Then he bit it through, all the way from the head to the tail, and this kept the teeth from decay” (W. M. Beauchamp, Iroquois Notes, in Journal of American Folk-Lore, July, 1892).

Send torrents of rain – The belief in a connection between the serpent and the rain-gods is well-nigh universal among primitive peoples, and need only be indicated here.

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