The Four Worlds International Institute

The Nunne'hi and Other Spirit Folk



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.

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Replies to This Discussion

Wado

Wado for these stories...I heard very similar ones from a dear Seminole friend, especially the "little people" and the "Firecarrier" but they called it the "stickpeople with fire"

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