Long-Ago Stories of the Eastern Cherokee Read Online Free Page A

agreed, and a Sunday lecture date was sent to the newspapers. He was asked if he would wear his traditional clothing for his talk. He said, “No.” With quiet dignity he said it would be very impolite to wear his clothing in the white man’s world. When the Sunday of the lecture arrived, several people showed up. They listened intently to Ishi and asked many questions. When it was over, they asked when he would do it again. The response was totally unexpected, but another date was set. This time more people showed up. The word quickly spread, and Ishi’s talks were eagerly received. Soon, it was a regular Sunday afternoon event at the museum. By this time more people were coming to hear Ishi on Sunday afternoon than were coming to the museum during the rest of the week.
    Then, one day, Ishi was found lying on the floor of the museum. He was rushed to the hospital.
    Dr. Pope immediately took charge, arguing that no one knew Ishi better than he did. Word quickly spread throughout the hospital that Ishi was seriously ill. As usual, Ishi had made many friends when he was roaming the “healing place.” Members of the staff quietly gathered in the hallway outside of his room awaiting word of his condition. Nurses were scurrying in and out of Ishi’s room carrying Dr. Pope’s tests as he tried to find out what was wrong with him. Finally, Dr. Pope came out of Ishi’s room. Sweat beaded his forehead and his face was pale. Quietly, he told the waiting staff, “Ishi is in the latter stages of tuberculosis.” Ishi had been feeling weak for some time and hadn’t been able to keep his food down. But he hadn’t said anything because he didn’t want to be a “bother” to anyone. On March 25, 1916, Ishi passed away.
    As was the custom among his people, the following items were placed in his coffin: his favorite bow and five arrows, several obsidian shards, a pouch of dried corn and a pouch of acorn meal for his journey.
    He was then cremated. Ishi’s ashes were placed in a small black pueblo jar. The inscription reads, “Ishi, the last Yana, 1916.”
    Ishi had learned the language, the customs and even how to wear the clothes of a culture that had hunted his people to extinction and yet he was the one called the “savage.”
    I will end Ishi’s story with his own preferred phrase of farewell, “You stay, I go.”

T HE M AGIC L AKE OF THE A NIMALS
    In western North Carolina, deep in the Great Smoky Mountains, you will find the headwaters of the Oconaluftee River. It is said that if you go west from these headwaters you will find a large, grassy plain. There will be no Animals that you can see, for this is the Magic Lake of the Animals.
    To see what is there, first you must fast the day before going to this area. The next morning, after fasting, as you travel to the west you will hear many Ducks and the call of other Animals. Soon you will see flocks of Ducks and Geese flying overhead. If you move quietly through the bushes, you will see a huge, shallow lake. Water will be pouring out of the cliffs overlooking the lake. Waterfowl of all kinds will be resting on the surface. Animals will be walking around the shore.

    An Animal that is injured will wade out into the lake and swim across. When he comes out on the other side he will be healed. If an Animal has been injured and can make it to the lake then he can be healed. The Animals move around the lake in peace. Here, there is no fighting.
    This is the Magic Lake of the Animals.

T HE M ILKY W AY
    Long ago, a Cherokee family had ground up some cornmeal and placed it in a basket outside their cabin. The next morning when the Father got up, he went over to the basket. He looked inside, and all of the cornmeal was gone. He did not know what had happened to the cornmeal. He woke up his family. They talked about what had happened.
    That day, they ground up some more cornmeal, and that evening they left the