“Gold in them thar hills”? Yes, abundant gold for the spade of the imagination. Each bubbling spring is a radiant jewel on nature’s breast. The crystal streams are ribbons of silver daringly knotted at the throats of the hills. The setting sun from Penitentiary Mountain is a ball of gold for the poet’s eye. That is treasure aplenty, treasure worth prospecting for. But the Ozark earth has not yielded up the yellow gold that is grist for the mills of trade. Perhaps it is there, as my friend the prospector believes. Perhaps . . . but as for me, I seek the other treasure.
Indian Footprints
Fourteen tribes of Indians lived in the Ozark region between 1541 and 1837, according to certain historians.1 Only two of these tribes, however, were what we would call legal landowners—the Osages who were in possession of the region when the first white men arrived, and the Eastern Cherokees who were settled by treaty in 1817. The Osage claim consisted of about fifty million acres extending from the Mississippi to the Verdigris. It included all of the Ozark region bounded on the north by the Missouri and on the south by the Arkansas. The southern portion of this region, consisting of a little more than 2,000,000 acres, was assigned to the Eastern Cherokees in exchange for a tract of equal size east of the Mississippi. Shawnees, Delawares, Dakotas, Sac and Fox, Northern and Southern Cherokees, and a few other tribes occupied portions of the Ozark region, but they had no permanent claims. Nomadic tribes visited the highlands on hunting expeditions or made pilgrimage to the healing springs with which the region abounds, but they did not attempt to possess the land. Because of its central location and the abundance of game and water, this region was the redman’s mecca for several hundred years preceding the arrival of the white settlers. The piecemeal occupation of these highlands by the aborigines offers a challenge to the archaeologist and historian.
The removal of the Osages began about the time of the Cherokee immigration, but it was many years before the transfer was completed. Remnants of this vigorous tribe continued to roam the hills until 1875. The forced migration of the Cherokees from their homelands east of the Mississippi, beginning in 1817, is a pathetic chapter of our history. Thousands of them died while en route to the western lands the United States government had assigned them. The hardships along the Trail of Tears has become a Cherokee tradition.
The treaty with the Cherokees carried a guarantee of permanency, but the rapid settlement of the country by white settlers soon caused the government to change its policy. In 1828, the headmen of the Cherokee tribe were called to Washington to sign a new treaty. The Indians at first refused to sign a violation of the former pact, but during the latter part of the year it was forced upon them. In the early part of 1829, the government began the removal of all Indians from Arkansas. The emigration continued for about ten years. In the latter part of 1837, only a few roving parties and scattered mixed-breeds remained in the state. In 1846 several hundred Cherokees returned from the Indian Territory, now Oklahoma, and petitioned the government for citizenship papers and for the right to settle in northwest Arkansas, but United States soldiers forced them to return to the land that had been assigned to them.
The Ouachita region, south of the Arkansas River, was occupied by the Caddos, Quapaws, Choctaws, Creeks, and Seminoles from 1541 to 1828. They were removed to the Territory early in the nineteenth century to make way for the white settlers. The name Arkansas comes from the Quapaws by way of the French under Marquette. The original meaning of the word is “handsome man.”2
Indian legends abound in the Ozarks as a result of the redman’s long residence in the region. Almost every stream, spring, cave, and promontory has legendary footprints. These Indians were deeply religious and they interpreted natural phenomena with a supernatural slant. A typical legend is that concerning the origin of Mammoth Spring in Fulton County, Arkansas:
A great many moons ago, according to the Indians, there was only a great meadow at the site of Mammoth Spring. A tribe headed by Chief Red Cloud occupied this region. The chief ’s daughter, Natalitia, had been married to a tribesman by name of Towakanee and Red Cloud proclaimed a festival of many weeks’ duration. In the midst of the festivities there fell upon the land a terrible drought and the people began to suffer for want of water. Selecting a number of warriors, the chief sent them to the Big Water [Mississippi River] to bring back rain to his people.
The warriors were so long in making the journey that many people perished, among them Natalitia. Crazed by grief, Towakanee committed suicide by dashing his head against a rock. When the warriors finally returned, Red Cloud, in a rage, had them put to death and buried in a common grave in the great meadow.
When the grave was closed a mighty rumbling noise was heard within the ground and a great stream of water burst forth to form a giant spring.
When night falls at Mammoth Spring, a hissing sound is heard to come from the water. Scientists explain that this is caused by the escaping of carbonic gas that has been held in solution. But according to the legend, it is the gasping of the spirits of the dead warriors.
Sam A. Leath, who probably knows more Ozark Indian lore than any other person living today, tells the colorful story of the famous Hiawatha’s visit to the Magic Healing Springs, now Eureka Springs, Arkansas.3 Here is Leath’s version of the legend:
It is an Ojibway tradition that Hiawatha, immortalized in Longfellow’s poem, once visited the healing springs. He came from the land of the lakes to treat with the Dakota chief, Newadaha, for his daughter, Laughing Water. A remnant of the Dakotas, headed by Newadaha, had sought refuge in the Ozarks when they were defeated by their archenemies, the Ojibways. Hiawatha offered to establish peace between his people and the Dakotas if the chief would accept him as a son-in-law. It was agreed that the girl would return with him to the camps of the Ojibways in the Great Lakes region as evidence of the peace pact.
The young couple started immediately upon their journey without revealing their plans to the other Dakotas. Just as they reached the cliff in what is now called Happy Hollow, they were seen by Newadaha’s pickets. They thought Hiawatha was kidnapping the girl and laid hands upon him. But the Indian girl plunged a knife into the heart of one of her own tribesmen in order that her lover might escape. They continued their journey, reached the shores of the northern waters, and spent their lives together in the land of the Ojibways.
Happy Hollow with its charming scenery and cool springs was the legendary wooing ground of Hiawatha and Laughing Water. This cove is now filled with beautiful homes, among them being the residence and studio of Cora Pinkley Call, Ozark writer, and the palatial lodge of Wilbur Bancroft, where Ozarkian writers and artists are royally entertained each year during the third week of June.
Breadtray Mountain is located at the junction of the James with the White River in Stone County, Missouri. The name was applied by early pioneers because of the peculiar topography of the promontory. Breadtray has a legendary reputation seldom paralleled. It is a landmark of strange incident and hillfolks carefully avoid it. Of the many stories connected with it, four are outstanding.
Long ago there lived a band of Chickasaw Indians in the vicinity of Breadtray Mountain. They had discovered deposits of silver and they manufactured crude jewelry which they used as a medium of exchange. These ornaments became so popular that they decided to use the cave under the mountain as a workshop, and as a place of safe storage for their silver. They continued this work for many years, but finally were overcome by an enemy tribe and forced out of the region. Before leaving, they hid their treasure in a secret passage of the cave and sealed the entrance. Legend declares that they never returned and that behind some wall in the bowels of Breadtray there lies the vast treasure of the Chickasaws.
Another legend says that an Indian village was located on the top of Breadtray Mountain. The tribe was haunted by starvation and ill fortune. One day a beautiful girl from a neighboring tribe came to them with the startling information that the Great Spirit would bring them peace and plenty if she became the bride
of the chief ’s son. The wedding took place and the tribe’s misfortunes came to an end. The girl was greatly respected by everyone except the medicine man who had profited by the people’s misfortunes. He cursed the young woman and she immediately left the village, saying that the Great Spirit would banish the tribe from the face of the earth. Legend says this prediction was carried out and that the curse even extended to the land on the top of Breadtray Mountain. That is the reason nothing grows on the top of the mountain to this day.
One of the most popular Breadtray legends has a Spanish origin. The conquistadors mined silver in the vicinity and hid it in a fort on the mountaintop. They enslaved the Indians and forced them to work in the mines. When a large quantity of the ore had been mined, the Spaniards decided to leave the country and take fifty Indian girls with them. But the redmen thwarted their plan and killed all but three of the Spaniards, who escaped into the hills. These men returned to look for the treasure, but they were killed by sentries. Since that time many adventurers have sought the lost hoard, which was supposed to be secreted in sealed vaults below the site of the fort, but no trace of it has been found.
The fourth legend has its setting in the latter part of the nineteenth century. The notorious Bald Knobber gang operated in Stone and Taney Counties in the eighties. It is thought that they used the cave under Breadtray as a base for their operations and that they cached their loot there. In 1889 the entire gang was captured and executed except one man. He escaped from the jail at Ozark, Missouri, and fled the country. Old-timers think that he returned to the cave later and recovered the loot.
For many years an incessant search has been carried on in the vicinity of St. Joe, Arkansas, for a fabled silver mine. The fantastic story of this treasure carries some earmarks of truth and many diggings have been made in quest of it.
An Indian by the name of Woodward was said to be the original owner of the mine. He talked about his mine freely and boasted that if white men had enough sense to locate it they could shoe their horses with silver. To prove the existence of the treasure, he offered to conduct two men to the mine, providing they would permit him to blindfold them during the trip. This was done and the visitors were led to the mine. When the blindfolds were removed they were stunned by what they saw. The ore existed in almost unbelievable quantities. They were conducted out of the cave in the same fashion by which they entered and the location remained as much a mystery as ever.
The story goes that the crafty Indian sold shares in his mine, promising to reveal the location when the deal was completed. He collected the money and then skipped to the Indian Territory. Years later he returned to St. Joe, but old landmarks had been obliterated and he could not find the coveted treasure. He returned to Oklahoma and died shortly afterwards.
It has been four hundred years since Hernando de Soto crossed the Mississippi River (June 18, 1541) and met the chiefs of five different tribes of Indians assembled on the western bank. He was in constant association with the redmen during his long trek through Arkansas. Many of these aborigines were friendly and it is said that they helped the Spaniards build the boat that carried them away—down the Ouachita River. But there were exceptions to this spirit of fraternalism. At Caddo Gap, in Montgomery County, stands a monument that attests a bitter struggle between the whites and the reds. Carved in the stone of the monument is this inscription:
Here De Soto reached his most westward point in the United States. Here was the capitol of the warlike Tula tribe of Indians who fiercely fought De Soto and his men. Relics found in this vicinity suggest the romance of past centuries about which history will ever be meager and incomplete.
Following de Soto came the Frenchman, Du Tisne, in the seventeenth century. Tradition says that the first log house in America was built by this explorer, assisted by friendly Indians. But the redmen did not always welcome the French with open arms. On one occasion the Osages decided to give Du Tisne a passport to the happy hunting ground. But he shocked them by pulling off his wig and showing his shaved head. Perhaps it was the first time in Indian history that the redmen had observed a man scalp himself. To further astonish his dusky companions, he drew a sunglass from his pocket and set fire to a bunch of dry leaves. Then he mixed brandy with water and set it on fire. The Osages were big men, some of them seven feet tall, and their bravery was unquestioned, but they could not decipher the Frenchman’s magic and he was permitted to live.
The early Anglo-Saxon settlers had many interesting experiences with the Indians. When the Bass family moved into the Springfield (Missouri) area in 1829, the Kickapoos would not let them stop because they had a plow tied on the side of the wagon. The redskins were no fools and had already learned that the white man’s civilization follows the plow.
Fact and Fable
If the evening star has a spot of blood on it, look out for war! So say the old folks of the Ozarks. Or the warning may come on the shell of a chicken egg. At a time of national stress, eggs are frequently reported with miraculous imprints on them. The signs may be strange symbols with ominous meanings, or actual words of warning worked into the shell. These things are given credence by many people. But, according to the seers of the hills, the most reliable sign of impending war is the appearance of the black eagle in the Jacks Fork country.
Jacks Fork is a tumbling branch of Current River which threads and loops its way through the hills of Texas and Shannon Counties, Missouri. This rugged section was settled by mountaineers from Virginia, Kentucky, and Tennessee and, in moving to the Ozarks, they brought their legends and superstitions with them. Here we find survivals of the black eagle legend.
One of the early settlers on Jacks Fork was Jim Hill. He came with his family in 1860 and settled in the valley of the little river where the land was exceedingly rich and wild game abundant. The Hill family had a tradition of patriotic service dating from the American Revolution. The War of 1812, the struggle with Mexico, and numerous Indian wars found them in the ranks, serving their country.
The Civil War broke out soon after Jim Hill, with his wife and five sons, reached the Ozarks. The Hills were in sympathy with the North and Jim’s father, who was left behind in Virginia, was killed by a Confederate during the early days of the outbreak. The war had been going on several weeks but no word of it had reached Jim Hill. But soon after the death of his father, the legend says that an enormous black eagle with the dismal color of death appeared in the Jacks Fork country.
The Hills recognized the bird as a sign that war had broken out between the North and South, and it was interpreted as a call to the colors. The father and his three older sons immediately joined the forces of the Union. Two of the boys were killed in the war but the father and one son returned to the hills at the close of the struggle. There is no record of the appearance of the ominous bird during the war with Spain or the first World War, but the belief persists that it will again appear, if necessary, to call the descendants of the fighting clan of Jim Hill.
Ghost stories are an intricate part of the lore of the backhills and each community has its favorites. The vampire superstition common to the peasants of southeastern Europe is unknown here, but ghosts of Anglo-Saxon lineage, correspondent to the shade of the immortal Banquo, set their reversed feet in the Ozarkian imagination. A ghost or shade differs from a vampire in that it is a purely psychical phenomenon and may flit through closed doors and walls without difficulty. Vampires are restricted by physical limitations and fear a second death. A ghost is a departed soul returned to earth and is not perceptible to touch. It takes fantastic sizes and shapes and may hide in a peanut shell or slip through the eye of a needle. It seems to be at its best (or worst) at the hour of midnight, and it frequents graveyards, or unholy places where foul deeds have been committed. But even a ghost has certain limitations that are strictly adhered to. One of them, given frequent mention in the old ballads, is the daylight taboo. When the cock crows to herald the approach of dawn, the specter must depart for the nether regions without delay.
In the southern Missouri hills there exists, for some of the people, a specter that occasionally takes the form of a headless man. Natives report seeing it and hearing its groans on dark, drizzly nights. One night it took a position on the horse behind a young swain who was returning home from a sparking escapade. Its cold breath on the back of his neck was a chilling experience. Strange behavior for an apparition without a head and minus physical qualities. But the strange hitchhiker departed as suddenly as it appeared, without noise or ceremony. The victim of the adventure is sincere in his statements and has tried to find an explanation for this strange phenomenon. But this ghost defies analysis. Its antics are as varied as Arkansas weather. Once it appeared in the road with its head in its arms and glided along as if coasting on roller skates. At another time it lay concealed in a brush pile and moaned so loudly that a team of mules on the near highway took fright and ran away. A marvelous apparition for a modern age! Perhaps it is one of the fallen archangels of mythology that had parachute trouble and landed in the wrong world.
The lore of the Ozarks is filled with legends that spread a magic carpet for the imagination. In this egg-shaped empire with its 60,000 square miles of territory, there are thousands of romantic tales that act as interludes in the solemn dramas of folk life. One outstanding tradition which lingers in the spotlight is that of the Lost Louisiana Treasure. The search for a legitimate tracer to the fabulous wealth of this cache has been a favorite pastime with treasure hunters for many years.
Ozark Country Page 25
