Once Upon a Time ...

The Raleigh News and Observer

BY LYNN SETZER, Correspondent

At the end of a winding gravel road in a bowl-shaped depression enclosed by tall sycamore trees, rests a large gray soapstone rock etched with strange marks.

Most people know Jackson County as the home of Dillsboro, the little town where the Jarrett House serves up heapin' helpings of fried chicken and where the Great Smoky Mountain Railroad chugs into the Nantahala Gorge.

But before the white man arrived in the mountains, Jackson County was the heartland of the Cherokee Nation. Excavations near present-day Tuckaseegee revealed a structure believed to be a dwelling 23 feet in diameter. It had outer wall posts and a fire basin. And in 1956, a Cherokee mound was found on the campus of Western Carolina University in Cullowhee. In the Tuckaseegee River valley, fragments of utensils have been found.

Where there are artifacts there's also a wealth of legends, so after some reading I set out one weekend to take a closer look.

JUDACULLA

The legend of Judaculla topped my list. Judaculla was a fierce, slant-eyed giant who ruled the Balsam Mountains. His mother was a flashing comet, his daddy was the thunder. His bow was the arc of heaven, his arrows were shafts of lightning. Legend held that he could drink streams dry with a single gulp, that he could step from one mountain to the next. His voice made the heavens rumble, and his face was so ugly that men turned from him in horror. Curiously, when the Bible was translated into Cherokee after Sequoyah developed his syllabary, the English word Goliath was changed to Judaculla.

Supposedly, Judaculla lived in a lair on the southwestern slope of Richland Balsam Mountain, the highest point on the Blue Ridge Parkway (Milepost 431). Near Richland Balsam, a rock outcropping stretches into the sky. Called Devil's Courthouse (Milepost 422), this rocky ledge is home to a superb view -- and a cave where Judaculla held court.

But the trails to Devil's Courthouse and Richland Balsam are pleasant walks, and as I walked them, I had seen neither cave nor lair. I had heard no spooky music rising up from Judaculla's cave.

Later, though, when I stood before Judaculla Rock, preparing to dismiss this as hokum, I stopped. The etchings on the rock are clearly man-made, and no one has been able to explain what they mean or why they're there. Some people speculate that the marks depict a treaty; others say the marks reveal a battle plan. Still others say the rock marks a boundary.

But if Judaculla were everything that the legend said he was -- even if he were only half of what legend said he was -- isn't it possible that he left those marks when he leapt down from his lair and thrust his seven fingers into the soapstone? Soapstone isn't the hardest of rock; Richland Balsam is a high mountain and Judaculla was a large guy.

SPEAR-FINGER

After poking around Judaculla's stomping grounds, I decided to visit those of Spear-finger, Judaculla's feminine equivalent.

The Cherokee name for Whiteside Mountain is Sanigilagi, meaning "the place where they took it out." Originally this mountain was part of a great rock bridge that extended southward down the Blue Ridge Escarpment.

A terrifying she-monster lived there, and her favorite food was human livers. Her skin was rock hard and she had, on her right hand, a bony forefinger that she used to stab her victims. Finally, the medicine men throughout the nation held a great council to discuss how to rid themselves of this she-monster.

As the warriors assembled in the valley, the medicine men took their place along the summits of mountains. Then they prayed, asking the Great Spirit to bring out the monster. Soon the prayer was answered: a lightning bolt struck the rock bridge, shattering it and exposing the monster. The warriors swarmed in to kill her.

Looking down on the exposed vertical cliffs of Whiteside Mountain, I could think only one thought: The Great Spirit evidently has substantial firepower. The cliffs are 1400 to 1600 feet high.

AKWETIYI AND THE UKTENAS

Then there's the tale of Akwetiyi, a monster that lived in the Tuckaseegee River near the upper end of Cowee Tunnel.

Each year, thousands of people ride the Great Smoky Mountain Railway into the tunnel and hear the story of how 19 convicts drowned in the river in 1882 when the tunnel was being built.

Reporters of the day wrote that heavy rain turned the river into an angry torrent and that's why the boat ferrying the convicts across the river flipped. True, the ferry was dilapidated, and true too, that the rain had been heavy, but after looking at the short distance across the water, I began to wonder if the tragedy might have been the dastardly work of Akwetiyi.

After a weekend spent chasing legends, did I become a believer? It's hard to say, but let me tell one last tale.

This one's about the Uktenas, yet another creature living in the Tuckaseegee. According to the Cherokee, Uktenas live in deep sections of the river. They have the body of a snake and antlers of a deer and on their foreheads is a blazing crystal with magical powers.

Legend has it that once, two Uktenas were engaged in mortal combat. As they fought, entwined, they lifted themselves clean out of the river. Legend doesn't say what happened next, though maybe it's safe to say that the Cherokee were grateful that the Uktenas dropped back into the water.

After the glimmers of truth I had seen while chasing the other legends -- the etched rock, the sheer cliffs, the drowning -- would I dive right into a river if a monster like that lived in the water?

Of course not. Momma didn't raise a fool.