The Nunne'hi and Other Spirit Folk

As recorded by James Mooney, circa 1900 ...

The Nûñnë'hï or immortals, the "people who live anywhere," were a race
of spirit people who lived in the highlands of the old Cherokee
country and had a great many townhouses, especially in the bald
mountains, the high peaks on which no timber ever grows. They had
large townhouses in Pilot knob and under the old Nïkwäsï' mound in
North Carolina, and another under Blood mountain, at the head of
Nottely river, in Georgia. They were invisible excepting when they
wanted to be seen, and then they looked and poke just like other
Indians. They were very fond of music and dancing, and hunters in the
mountains would often hear the dance, songs and the drum beating in
some invisible townhouse, but when they went toward the sound it would
shift about and they would hear it behind them or away in some other
direction, so that they could never find the place where the dance
was. They were a friendly people, too, and often brought lost
wanderers to their townhouses under the mountains and cared for them
there until they were rested and then guided them back to their home .
More than once, also, when the Cherokee were hard pressed by the
enemy, the Nûñnë'hï warriors have come out, as they did at old
Nïkwäsï', and have saved them from defeat. Some people have thought
that they are the same as the Yûñwï Tsunsdi', the "Little People"; but
these are fairies, no larger in size than children.

There was a man in Nottely town who had been with the Nûñnë'hï when he
was a boy, and he told Wafford all about it. He was a truthful, hard-
headed man, and Wafford had heard the story so often from other people
that he asked this man to tell it. It was in this way:

When he was about 10 or 12 years old he was playing one day near the
river, shooting at a mark with his how and arrows, until he became
tired, and started to build a fish trap in the water. While he was
piling up the stones in two long walls a man came and stood on the
bank and asked him what he was doing. The boy told him, and the man
said, "Well, that's pretty hard work and you ought to rest a while.
Come and take a walk up the river." The boy said, "No"; that he was
going home to dinner soon. "Come right up to my house," said the
stranger, and I'll give you a good dinner there and bring you home
again in the morning." So the boy went with him up the river until
they came to a house, when they went in, and the man's wife and the
other people there were very glad to see him, and gave him a fine
dinner, and were very kind to him. While they were eating a man that
the boy knew very well came in and spoke to him, so that he felt quite
at home.

After dinner he played with the other children and slept there that
night, and in the morning, after breakfast, the man got ready to take
him home. They went down a path that had a cornfield on one side and a
peach orchard fenced in on the other, until they came to another
trail, and the man said, "Go along this trail across that ridge and
you will come to the river road that will bring you straight to your
home, and now I'll go back to the house." So the man went back to the
house and the boy went on along the trail, but when he had gone a
little way he looked back, and there was no cornfield or orchard or
fence or house; nothing but trees on the mountainside.

He thought it very queer, but somehow he was not frightened, and went
on until he came to the river trail in sight of his home. There were a
great many people standing about talking, and when they saw him they
ran toward him shouting, "Here he is! He is not drowned or killed in
the mountains!" They told him they had been hunting him ever since
yesterday noon, and asked him where he had been. "A man took me over
to his house just across the ridge, and I had a fine dinner and a good
time with the children," said the boy, "I thought Udsi'skalä here"--
that was the name of the man he had seen at dinner--"would tell you
where I was." But Udsi'skalä said, "I haven't seen you. I was out all
day in my canoe hunting you. It was one of the Nûñnë'hï that made
himself look like me." Then his mother said, "You say you had dinner
there?" "Yes, and I had plenty, too," said the boy; but his mother
answered, "There is no house there--only trees and rocks--but we hear
a drum sometimes in the big bald above. The people you saw were the
Nûñnë'hï."

Once four Nûñnë'hï women came, to a dance at Nottely town, and danced
half the night with the young men there, and nobody knew that they
were Nûñnë'hï, but thought them visitors from another settlement.
About midnight they left to go home, and some men who had come out
from the townhouse to cool off watched to see which way they went.
They saw the women go down the trail to the river ford, but just as
they came to the water they disappeared, although it was a plain
trail, with no place where they could hide. Then the watchers knew
they were Nûñnë'hï women. Several men saw this happen, and one of them
was Wafford's father-in-law, who was known for an honest man. At
another time a man named Burnt-tobacco was crossing over the ridge
from Nottely to Hemptown in Georgia and heard a drum and the songs of
dancers in the hills on one side of the trail. He rode over to see who
could be dancing in such a place, but when he reached the spot the
drum and the songs were behind him, and he was so frightened that he
hurried back to the trail and rode all the way to Hemptown as hard as
he could to tell the story. He was a truthful man, and they believed
what he said.

There must have been a good many of the Nûñnë'hï living in that
neighborhood, because the drumming wits often heard in the high balds
almost up to the time of the Removal.

On a small upper branch of Nottely, running nearly due north from
Blood maintain, there was also a hole, like a small well or chimney,
in the ground, from which there came up a warm vapor that heated all
the air around. People said that this was because the Nûñnë'hï had a
townhouse and a fire under the mountain. Sometimes in cold weather
hunters would stop there to warm the selves, but they were afraid to
stay long. This was more than sixty years ago, but the hole is
probably there yet.

Close to the old trading path from South Carolina up to the Cherokee
Nation, somewhere near the head of Tugaloo, there was formerly a noted
circular depression about the size of a townhouse, and waist deep.
Inside it was always clean as though swept by unknown hands. Passing
traders would throw logs and rocks into it, but would always, on their
return, find them thrown far out from the hole. The Indians said it
was a Nûñnë'hï townhouse, and never liked to go near the place or even
to talk about it, until at last some logs thrown in by the traders
were allowed to remain there, and then they concluded that the
Nûñnë'hï, annoyed by the persecution of the white men, had abandoned
their townhouse forever.

There is another race of spirits, the Yûñwï Tsunsdi', or "Little
People," who live in rock eaves on the mountain side. They are little
fellows, hardly reaching up to a man's knee, but well shaped and
handsome, with long hair falling almost to the ground. They are great
wonder workers and are very fond of music, spending half their time
drumming and dancing. They are helpful and kind-hearted, and often
when people have been lost in the mountains, especially children who
have strayed away from their parents, the Yûñwï Tsunsdi' have found
them and taken care of -them and brought them back to their homes.
Sometimes their drum is heard in lonely places in the mountains, but
it is not safe to follow it, because the Little People do not like to
be disturbed at home, and they throw a spell over the stranger so that
he is bewildered and loses his way, and even if he does at last get
back to the settlement he is like one dazed ever after. Sometimes,
also, they come near a house at night and the people inside hear them
talking, but they must not go out, and in the morning they find the
corn gathered or the field cleared as if a whole force of men had been
at work. If anyone should go out to watch, he would die. When a hunter
finds anything in the woods, such as a knife or a trinket, he must
say, "Little People, I want to take this," because it may belong to
them, and if he does not ask their permission they will throw stones
at him as he goes home. Once a hunter in winter found tracks in the
snow like the tracks of little children. He wondered how they could
have come there and followed them until they led him to a cave, which
was full of Little People, young and old, men, women, and children.
They brought him in and were kind to him, and he was with them some
time; but when he left they warned him that he must not tell or he
would die. He went back to the settlement and his friends were all
anxious to know where he had been. For a long time he refused to say,
until at last he could not hold out any longer, but told the story,
and in a few days he died. Only a few years ago two hunters from
Raventown, going behind the high fall near the head of Oconaluftee on
the East Cherokee reservation, found there a cave with fresh
footprints of the Little People all over the floor.

During the smallpox among the East Cherokee just after the war one
sick man wandered off, and his friends searched, but could not find
him. After several weeks he came back and said that the Little People
had found him and taken him to one of their eaves and tended him until
he was cured.

About twenty-five years ago a man named Tsantäwû' was lost in the
mountains on the head of Oconaluftee. It was winter time and very cold
and his friends thought he must be dead, but after sixteen days he
came back and said that the Little People had found him and taken him
to their cave, where he had been well treated, and given plenty of
everything to eat except bread. This was in large loaves, but when he
took them in his hand to eat they seemed to shrink into small cakes so
light and crumbly that though he might eat all day he would not be
satisfied. After he was well rested they had brought him a part of the
way home until they came to a small creek, about knee deep, when they
told him to wade across to reach the main trail on the other side. He
waded across and turned to look back, but the Little People were gone
and the creek was a deep river. When he reached home his legs were
frozen to the knees and he lived only a few days.

Once the Yûñwï Tsunsdi' had been very kind to the people of a certain
settlement, helping them at night with their work and taking good care
of any lost children, until something happened to offend them and they
made up their minds to leave the neighborhood. Those who were watching
at the time saw the whole company of Little People come down to the
ford of the river and cross over and disappear into the mouth of a
large cave on the other side. They were never heard of near the
settlement again.

There are other fairies, the Yûñwï Amai'yïnë'hï, or Water-dwellers,
who live in the water, and fishermen pray to them for help. Other
friendly spirits live in people's houses, although no one can see
them, and so long as they are there to protect the house no witch can
come near to do mischief.

Tsäwa'sï and Tsäga'sï are the names of two small fairies, who are
mischievous enough, but yet often help the hunter who prays to them.
Tsäwa'sï, or Tsäwa'sï Usdi'ga (Little Tsäwa'sï), is a tiny fellow,
very handsome, with long hair falling down to his feet, who lives in
grassy patches on the hillsides and has great power over the game. To
the deer hunter who prays to him he gives skill to slip up on the deer
through the long grass without being seen. Tsäga'sï is another of the
spirits invoked by the hunter and is very helpful, but when someone
trips and falls, we know that it is Tsäga'sï who has caused it. There
are several other of these fairies with names, all good-natured, but
more or less tricky.

Then there is De'tsätä. De'tsätä was once a boy who ran away to the
woods to avoid a scratching and tries to keep himself invisible ever
since. He is a handsome little fellow and spends his whole time
hunting birds with blowgun and arrow. He has a great many children who
are all just like him and have the same name. When a flock of birds
flies up suddenly as if frightened it is because De'tsätä is chasing
them. He is mischievous and sometimes hides an arrow from the bird
hunter, who may have shot it off into a perfectly clear space, but
looks and looks without finding it. Then the hunter says, "De'tsätä,
you have my arrow, and if you don't give it up I'll scratch you," and
when he looks again he finds it.

There is one spirit that goes about at night with a light. The
Cherokee call it Atsil'-dihye'gï, "The Fire-carrier," and they are all
afraid of it, because they think it dangerous, although they do not
know much about it. They do not even know exactly what it looks like,
because they are afraid to stop when they see it. It may be a witch
instead of a spirit. Wafford's mother saw the "Fire-carrier" once when
she was a young woman, as she was coming home at night from a trading
post in South Carolina. It seemed to be following her from behind,
and. she was frightened and whipped up her horse until she got away
from it and never saw it again.