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The Giants from the West
James Wafford, of the western Cherokee, who was born in
Georgia in 1806, says that his grandmother, who must have been born about the
middle of the last century, told him that she had heard from the old people that
long before her time a party of giants had come once to visit the Cherokee. They
were nearly twice as tall as common men, and had their eyes set slanting in
their heads, so that the Cherokee called them Tsunilkalu (tsunil'kälû'),
"The Slant-eyed people," because they looked like the giant hunter
Tsulkalu (tsul'kälû') (see the story below). They said that these
giants lived very far away in the direction in which the sun goes down. The
Cherokee received them as friends, and they stayed some time, and then returned
to their home in the west. The story may be a distorted historical tradition.
Tsulkalu, The Slant-eyed Giant
A long time ago a widow lived with her one daughter at the old
town of Känuga on Pigeon river. The girl was of age to marry, and her mother
used to talk with her a good deal, and tell her she must be sure to take no one
but a good hunter for a husband, so that they would have some one to take care
of them and would always have plenty of meat in the house. The girl said such a
man was hard to find, but her mother advised her not to be in a hurry, and to
wait until the right one came.
Now the mother slept in the house while the girl slept outside
in the âsï. One dark night a stranger came to the âsï wanting to court the
girl, but she told him her mother would let her marry no one but a good hunter.
"Well," said the stranger, "I am a great hunter," so she let
him come in, and he stayed all night. Just before day he said he must go back
now to his own place, but that he had brought some meat for her mother, and she
would find it outside. Then he went away and the girl had not seen him. When day
came she went out and found there a deer, which she brought into the house to
her mother, and told her it was a present from her new sweetheart. Her mother
was pleased, and they had deersteaks for breakfast.
He came again the next night, but again went away before
daylight, and this time he left two deer outside. The mother was more pleased
this time, but said to her daughter, "I wish your sweetheart would bring us
some wood." Now wherever he might be, the stranger knew their thoughts, so
when he came the next time he said to the girl, "Tell your mother I have
brought the wood"; and when she looked out in the morning there were
several great trees lying in front of the door, roots and branches and all. The
old woman was angry, and said, "He might have brought us some wood that we
could use instead of whole trees that we can't split, to litter up the road with
brush." The hunter knew what she said, and the next time he came he brought
nothing, and when they looked out in the morning the trees were gone and there
was no wood at all, so the old woman had to go after some herself.
Almost every night he came to see the girl, and each time he
brought a deer or some other game, but still he always left before daylight. At
last her mother said to her, "Your husband always leaves before daylight.
Why don't he wait? I want to see what kind of a son-in-law I have." When
the girl told this to her husband he said he could not let the old woman see
him, because the sight would frighten her. "She wants to see you,
anyhow," said the girl, and began to cry, until at last he had to consent,
but warned her that her mother must not say that he looked frightful (usga'së`ti'yu).
The next morning he did not leave so early, but stayed in the
âsï, and when it was daylight the girl went out and told her mother. The old
woman came and looked in, and there she saw a great giant, with long slanting
eyes (tsul`kälû'), lying doubled up on the floor, with his head against
the rafters in the left-hand corner at the back, and his toes scraping the roof
in the right-hand corner by the door. She gave only one look and ran back to the
house, crying, Usga'së`ti'yu! Usga'së`ti'yu!
Tsulkalu was terribly angry. He untwisted himself and came out
of the âsï, and said good-bye to the girl, telling her that he would never let
her mother see him again, but would go back to his own country. Then he went off
in the direction of Tsunegûñ'yï.
Soon after he left the girl had her monthly period. There was
a very great flow of blood, and the mother threw it all into the river. One
night after the girl had gone to bed in the âsï her husband came again to the
door and said to her, "It seems you are alone," and asked where was
the child. She said there had been none. Then he asked where was the blood, and
she said that her mother had thrown it into the river. She told just where the
place was, and he went there and found a small worm in the water. He took it up
and carried it back to the âsï, and as he walked it took form and began to
grow, until, when he reached the âsï, it was a baby girl that he was carrying.
He gave it to his wife and said, "Your mother does not like me and abuses
our child, so come and let us go to my home." The girl wanted to be with
her husband, so, after telling her mother good-bye, she took up the child and
they went off together to Tsunegûñ'yï.
Now, the girl had an older brother, who lived with his own
wife in another settlement, and when he heard that his sister was married he
came to pay a visit to her and her new husband, but when he arrived at Känuga
his mother told him his sister had taken her child and gone away with her
husband, nobody knew where. He was sorry to see his mother so lonely, so he said
he would go after his sister and try to find her and bring her back. It was easy
to follow the footprints of the giant, and the young man went along the trail
until he came to a place where they had rested, and there were tracks on the
ground where a child had been lying and other marks as if a baby had been born
there. He went on along the trail and came to another place where they had
rested, and there were tracks of a baby crawling about and another lying on the
ground. He went on and came to where they had rested again, and there were
tracks of a child walking and another crawling about. He went on until he came
where they had rested again, and there were tracks of one child running and
another walking. Still he followed the trail along the stream into the
mountains, and came to the place where they had rested again, and this time
there were footprints of two children running all about, and the footprints can
still be seen in the rock at that place.
Twice again he found where they had rested. and then the trail
led up the slope of Tsunegûñ'yï, and he heard the sound of a drum and voices,
as if people were dancing inside the mountain. Soon he came to a cave like a
doorway in the side of the mountain, but the rock was so steep and smooth that
he could not climb up to it, but could only just look over the edge and see the
heads and shoulders of a great many people dancing inside. He saw his sister
dancing among them and called to her to come out. She turned when she heard his
voice, and as soon as the drumming stopped for a while she came out to him,
finding no trouble to climb down the rock, and leading her two little children
by the hand. She was very glad to meet her brother and talked with him a long
time, but did not ask him to come inside, and at last he went away without
having seen her husband.
Several other times her brother came to the mountain, but
always his sister met him outside, and he could never see her husband. After
four years had passed she came one day to her mother's house and said her
husband had been hunting in the woods near by, and they were getting ready to
start home to-morrow, and if her mother and brother would come early in the
morning they could see her husband. If they came too late for that, she said,
they would find plenty of meat to take home. She went back into the woods, and
the mother ran to tell her son. They came to the place early the next morning,
but Tsulkalu' and his family were already gone. On the drying poles they found
the bodies of freshly killed deer hanging, as the girl had promised, and there
were so many that they went back and told all their friends to come for them,
and there were enough for the whole settlement.
Still the brother wanted to see his sister and her husband, so
he went again to the mountain, and she came out to meet him. He asked to see her
husband, and this time she told him to come inside with her. They went in as
through a doorway, and inside he found it like a great townhouse. They seemed to
be alone, but his sister called aloud, "He wants to see you," and from
the air came a voice, "You can not see me until you put on a new dress, and
then you can see me." "I am willing," said the young man,
speaking to the unseen spirit, and from the air came the voice again, "Go
back, then, and tell your people that to see me they must go into the townhouse
and fast seven days, and in all that time they must not come out from the
townhouse or raise the war whoop, and on the seventh day I shall come with new
dresses for you to put on so that you can all see me."
The young man went back to Känuga and told the people. They
all wanted to see Tsulkalu', who owned all the game in the mountains, so they
went into the townhouse and began the fast. They fasted the first day and the
second and every day until the seventh - all but one man from another
settlement, who slipped out every night when it was dark to get something to eat
and slipped in again when no one was watching. On the morning of the seventh day
the sun was just coming up in the east when they heard a great noise like the
thunder of rocks rolling down the side of Tsunegûñ'yï. They were frightened
and drew near together in the townhouse, and no one whispered. Nearer and louder
came the sound until it grew into an awful roar, and every one trembled and held
his breath - all but one man, the stranger from the other settlement, who lost
his senses from fear and ran out of the townhouse and shouted the war cry.
At once the roar stopped and for some time there was silence.
Then they heard it again, but as if it were going farther away, and then farther
and farther, until at last it died away in the direction of Tsunegûñ'yï, and
then all was still again. The people came out from the townhouse, but there was
silence, and they could see nothing but what had been seven days before.
Still the brother was not disheartened, but came again to see
his sister, and she brought him into the mountain. He asked why Tsulkalu had not
brought the new dresses, as he had promised, and the voice from the air said,
"I came with them, but you did not obey my word, but broke the fast and
raised the war cry." The young man answered, "It was not done by our
people, but by a stranger. If you will come again, we will surely do as you
say." But the voice answered, "Now you can never see me." Then
the young man could not say any more, and he went back to Känuga.
From Myths of the Cherokee by James
Mooney
From Nineteenth Annual Report of the
Bureau of American Ethnology 1897-98, Part I. [1900]
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