Jackson County, Georgia - Chapter 2 (1 of 4 so headed), 1914

When the first white man, with his bold and fearless step came to what was then known as Franklin, but since 1796, as Jackson County, the conditions which he was called upon to meet were entirely different from anything known to the present generation. The soil, being subject only to the stealthy tread of the native, the light foot-fall of the prowling animal, and the force of heavy rains being broken by dense forests, was so soft and mellow that the white man sank ankle deep as he passed over it. There was little undergrowth. By concert of action throughout the country, the natives burnt the woods during the autumn of every year. This custom kept small growth in check, destroyed millions upon millions of reptiles and insects, and the smoke arising from such a vast area of burning leaves and dry timber partially obscured the rays of the sun and produced the lovely Indian Summer of old times. Some of the undergrowth escaped the fire and is seen in the large trees which still remain in our scattered woodland.

For an unknown distance in every direction the country was covered with an almost unbroken forest through which wild animals and wilder men roamed at will both night and day. At the time of its first settlement by the whites, the country was not as thickly inhabited by native Indians as most of the adjacent territory. Perhaps this was partly owing to the fact that that part of it which lies between the Athens and Clarkesville road to the north and east and the Mulberry river to the south, was claimed by both the Cherokee and Upper Creek tribes, and passed from one to the other as the fortunes of war dictated. Another leading reason for this sparse population will appear as our narrative progresses. The territory was now in full possession of the Upper Creeks with here and there a family or an individual that belonged to the Lower Creek tribe. In manners, customs and language these two divisions of the Creek Nation were almost identical; but, strange to say, they were not on friendly terms except in time of war with other tribes, and not always then. Those who lived within the present limits of Jackson County had all the leading characteristics of their race which are too well known to need repetition here. A few of them were capable of the most devoted friendship; but the great majority felt nothing but the most intense hatred for the "pale face" as they generally termed the white man. Nor can we reasonably blame him for this. Put yourself in his place. It is a serious thing for a stranger to come and take full possession of a man's home, and either kill or drive him away. It can be justified on the principle of the survival of the fittest only. If Moses led his hosts to the borders of Canaan and Joshua took possession of the homes of its inhabitants, it was for a far-reaching reason that has already wrought upon the destiny of the whole human race, not only for all time, but for eternity as well! It may be that the very people of whose homes our forefathers took possession were the descendants of those whom Moses led to Canaan and at last became lost among the nations - the ten tribes of Israel !

The natives found here were, and still are, called Indians, not because that is their proper name, but because, when first discovered, they were thought to be inhabitants of India, in Asia. This shows how little the geography of the world was known by Columbus and his compeers. However, when the natives finally came to know something of the different races of mankind, they called themselves ' ' The Red Men, ' ' and this is, perhaps the most appropriate designation by which they are known.

Their conceptions of a Supreme Being were of a high order, and almost universal. They fully believed in a future state of existence, and thought the after life a continuation of the first in every respect. They considered the emergence of a butterfly from its chrysalis a renewal of the life of the same insect that fluttered from flower to flower the summer before, and that after death they would do the same way in what they termed "The Happy Hunting Grounds of the Great Spirit." Deeming the life of a butterfly an illustration of their own, one of the few precepts which they taught their children was "You must not kill a cetaee," as they called the butterfly. Though this belief was not universally entertained or even known, it was a fine conception of the mind of some heathen who never heard of the word resur-" rection.

The Upper Creeks lived chiefly on wild animals and birds caught in the woods; on fish, mud turtles and terrapins found in the streams; on custard-apples or papaws which grew upon small bushes, but now almost extinct; on wild beans or mistiups which grew on vines in the fertile valleys, but totally disappeared after the introduction of cattle ; on pig potatoes or oskones which still exist in some of our swamps ; on wild grapes or unups which grew in great profusion, and were of a much better quality than now ; and, when in season, largely on green corn which they called emefila when soft, but ze maize when hard. As the time for eating this choice article of food approached, they manifested their delight by performing the emefila or Green Corn Dance. It was a weird and laborious performance and required the full exercise of all their physical powers. Sometimes they ground hard corn between two stones, or beat it in mortars cut in large flat rocks, and thus produced a coarse meal of which they made cake or bonokins. These they cooked in hot ashes, and they were said to be excellent eating. Our grandmothers perpetuated this custom of cooking ash cakes for many years, and carried the art to a high degree of perfection. The natives also made many kinds of soup, their favorite dish being a mixture of green corn and wild beans which they called succotash. They often cooked in earthen pots; but broiling was their favorite method of preparing fish and birds. It is not known that the Upper Creeks had any knowledge of salt, pepper, or other seasoning or flavoring ingredients.

Patches of corn were planted, cultivated, ground and cooked by the women exclusively. The tool chiefly used in its cultivation, or we may say the plow, was made of the forked limb of a hard-wood tree, the point that entered the ground being somewhat hardened by a skillful application of fire. Within the memory of living man, a small plat of land now partly covered

Nearly all Indians were skillful in the use of the bow and the tomahawk. Some of them were experts to such a high degree of perfection as seem incredible to this age. These were used in the chase and in war. Fire arms were unknown to the natives of this immediate section until the latter part of the 90 's of the 18th century. They were of Spanish make, and in the hands of the natives did little damage.

As already stated the forests were almost unbroken, and when broken at all it had been done by the action of fire chiefly. Trees having a diameter of from six to nine feet, and a spread of branches of one hundred feet from side to side were not uncommon. Most of these were chestnut trees, and the amount of nuts which they produced was enormous, sometimes covering the ground in places to the depth of several inches. Their excellent flavor and mealy substance have made them a favorite article of food wherever known. The natives cooked them in various ways, and though they make delicious bread, it is not known that they ever so used them. Though now closely verging upon total extinction, the chestnut, large and small, was the prevailing growth of this country. The timber, to say nothing of its fruit was very valuable, and its disappearance is hard to explain. It is generally thought that when the woods ceased to be burned, decaying leaves produced a germ of disease that killed the trees by slow stages.

Next in size came the poplars and white oaks, the latter often producing enough of big, plump acorns to make it a difficult matter to walk over the ground where they had fallen. The length and size of their branches were amazing. They generally grew horizontal to the main body of the tree. This afforded bears and panthers a favorite lurking place. The poplars were not so numerous as the oaks but some of them grew to an immense size. Near the junction of big and little Sandy creeks stood a poplar that at the height of a man's head measured nine feet and seven inches in diameter. It was hollow, and about 1837 was cut down by raccoon hunters at the cost of the lives of three valuable dogs and several raccoons, besides William Rhodes, one of the hunters, was crippled for the remainder of his life. Being a shoemaker by trade, he made a full set of lasts and the arm pieces of a pair of crutches out of a part of that big tree.

Another distinguishing feature of the old-time forest was the deep yet low undertone which the listening ear could always hear when the wind was not blowing. Though not yet entirely unheard in the woods, it was prominent then and many a hunter has been soothed to sleep by its pleasant, dreamy moaning through the tree-tops. Others again have cried under its influence because many believed it to be the whisperings of the dead in a language which no one could understand until they joined the invisible throng themselves. It was not like the sad soughing of the wind through the pine trees, for it could not be heard at all when the wind was blowing. It seemed like the solemn, sad, yet pleasing moan of beings among the trees, inviting us to come and join in the chant of universal nature with them. The old poets called it the ''solemn hush of nature," and represented it as ''constantly singing a soft lullaby that enabled nymphs and fairies to sleep soundly." As it was, and still is heard in dense forests only, it may be that if the rush of a million worlds through infinite space above and around us makes a noise so loud we can not hear it, the growth-cells constantly being added to millions of trees, leaves and plants all around us, make just enough noise to enable us to indistinctly hear them grow, and that this constitutes "The Moan of the Woods."

Taking these prominent features, together with the great number of large and beautiful pine trees whose towering trunks overtopped all others, whose invaluable timbers have entered into the construction of many ships beyond the seas, and the large area that has been entirely cleared of all spontaneous growth, from the forests once roamed by our ancestors, and we have left a very skeleton indeed.

The water courses of the country have also considerably changed. It is a disputed question as to whether they afford as much water now as they did before the forests were cleared away; but the laws governing evaporation justify us in saying that less water flows noAv than when its surface was hardly exposed to the sun at all, nor did the dry winds reach it then as now. The water of all streams whether large or small, was as clear as crystal. Little mud reached them from the hills. Under these favorable conditions fishes were much more numerous, larger, and better flavored than now when the waters are so very impure that it is a matter of surprise that anything considered clean can exist in them at all.

The old-time names of all the streams have been changed. North Oconee on which Hurricane and Tumbling Shoals are located was called Etoho; Middle or Walnut Fork, Ithlobee; Mulberry, on which are the Talasee Shoals, Tishmaugu. Properly these streams should still be called North, and Middle and South Oconee because they were so named by the first settlers of the country. The name of Sandy Creek was Pocataligo ; Turkey Creek, Pinholowah ; Curry's Creek, Tobesofoskee ; Hurricane Creek, Numsacota. The double branches in Newtown district were called Cahootaconnough ; Beaver Creek, Jarathoggin ; Cedar Creek, Ipsequilta ; Morgan 's Creek, Yotocompsa ; and Beech Creek, Taurulahoole. This word means screaming panther, and the creek was so named because its swamps were inhabited by a great number of these animals.

Taurulahoole ! - Screaming Panther Creek ! - The name sounds ominously; but from the accounts which have come down to us descriptive of its gloomy haunts, the place itself must have seemed horrid indeed to those who first came to the country. Mrs. Clara Linton, one of the early emigrants, thus described the place in a letter written to her sister who lived in Liberty County :

"The bed of the creek is much below the tops of the adjacent hills, and for several miles above its junction with the Tishmaugu river is bordered by almost impassable swamps and by dense canebreakers on both sides which are in some places several hundred yards wide. These are inhabited by a great number of panthers that make night hideous by their screams which you well know resemble those made by a woman in distress. When we consider the character of the animal, I conceive that nothing more horrid ever reached the human ear than the doleful mingling of their unearthly screams as with the coming twilight one stands on a distant hill top and listens to their frightful orgies. Then, if possible, to make the night still more hideous, a flock of great-horned owls sit on the surrounding tall tree-tops, and hoot and hoot ta-ha-too-who-who until broad daylight. If one near by is answered by another in the distance, as frequently happens, then, all unconsciously the listener expects to see a troop of ghosts come marching from the dark and gloomy jungles of Screaming Panther Creek."

"It is strange," continued Mrs. Linton, "that no other place in the country is subject to such a frightful nocturnal visitation. No wonder only two natives have been known to live in this immediate vicinity for more than one day, and they, because of some secret said to be in their possession only, were immune from the attack of vicious animals. Even torture failed to elicit the secret from them."

Birds were among the most interesting features of the primeval forest. Some are extinct and a few others nearly so. Then as now the haughty blue jay, policeman of the woods, growled and fretted like many people who seem to be mad because others are living besides themselves. Then as now the reticent mocking bird, the both day and night musician of the times, poured forth his varied notes from some towering tree-top for want of a hedge from which to give his hearers a closer audience.

Then as now, the fidgeted little wren, hermit of the wood-pile, with inquisitive round and keen eye, frisked from place to place in search of the early worm or belated fly; but the great woodchick with his scarlet plume, and his black and white wings of ample spread, carrying him through the air like he was riding upon the waves of a boisterous sea; the golden yellow and the blood-red tanagers, whose plumage is as brilliant as any bird of the tropics; the delightful woodthrush, with his canary-yellow, black-speckled breast, and his musical song at break of day; the harmless bluebird twittering near his well-hidden nest in some hollow tree; the crimson-colored redbird with his bold whistle and heavy beak; the delicate partridge with his bob-white call and sly habits ; and the great turkey gobbler with his lordy strut, bronzed breast, red-wattled head and hanging beard, have all or nearly all, disappeared.

With the pretty birds the great eagle that on tireless wings sometimes soared above the clouds, has also gone. Often he wheeled in lowering circles and turned his head in every direction in search of his prey. Discovering a pig, lamb or rabbit, he half-folded his wings, and descending through the air like an arrow, easily carried his victim away to some hidden place of retreat. Indeed one of these fierce birds seized a little child near where Winder is now located, and carried it to Price's mountain* near Belmont in Hall County. The skeleton of a child's foot with toe nails still on was afterwards discovered there, but no other bones were found.

With the passing of the eagle have also gone the great flocks of wild geese that often visited the country in old times. Arranging themselves in a V-shaped body far above the tree-tops, a bold, strong leader placed himself at the apex, and thus they ranged the broad extent of country from Mexico to Canada. Occasionally a few stragglers would stop to search for food, and often some of them were killed and found to be excellent eating.

Until the woodman's axe became so terribly destructive there stood, near the residence of Rev. Henry Hardman, a tree which came from a seed found in the craw of a wild goose. It was planted in 1823, and no one who saw the tree was able to classify it. It produced a rich profusion of finely flavored blooms, and almost an equal number of rare berries similar in taste to the muscadine, but a little smaller. Greatly to the regret of many, the seed of the berries would not germinate - it may have been because of climatic conditions.

Especially at night when ghosts and goblins were said to be trooping to and from churchyards, the lonesome, far-away cry, "honk!" "honk!" "honk!" of the wild goose caused the listener to draw his bedclothes close around him. Sometimes the geese

*Priee 's Mountain is on the line of Jackson and Hall Counties. Part of it is in Jackson, but the greater portion is across the line in the other county. - Ed.

flew so high as to be invisible even in the daytime. That was a good sign of dry weather. At other times they flew low and repeated their cries rapidly. That was a sign of bad weather. Hence the old adage of weather prophets, "The goose hangs high," or "the goose hangs low," "hang" being a corruption of "honk."

The vast multitude of wild pigeons that in bygone days visited the country have passed away with the geese. The flocks were frequently so large as to obscure the sun like a monster black cloud, and the great number of rapidly moving wings caused the leaves of the trees beneath them to flutter back and forth as when a moderate wind is passing. Unlike the geese they often stopped to feast on acorns and chestnuts. Going to roost at night all went together, and lighting upon the trees they broke down the timber to such an extent that many thousands were killed in the general wreck. Hence another old adage was, "Go around the pigeon roost if you expect to eat dinner."

Then, too, there was the horned owl, the night sentinel of the times, that took his post on some lofty tree-top as described by Mrs. Linton. Because of his cigar-shaped body, short wings and ghostly hooting, "ta-hoo-to-hoo-hoo," he was regarded as the ogre of the night, and when another, and another answered him from all directions, children and sometimes even grown folks, went to bed and pulled the cover over their heads. Though simple and easily understood, such a medley of harsh, discordant notes seemed to have a ghostly sound. Even more so when the quick, sharp, unearthly screams of the nighthawk, seldom seen but often heard at night only in the most gloomy parts of the forest where a ray of sunshine was almost unknown. Of ugly form, and, except when on the wing, of ungainly movements, the nighthawk is, perhaps, the least companionable bird of all the feathered tribe.

The sharp note of the lonesome joeree; the "cra-cre-cro" of the sly raincrow; the "boo-o-uh" of the swooping bullbat; and the delightful strains of the swamp blackbird, are not often, if at all, heard by children of the present generation. To the prosperity of all of them, the unbroken forest with its deep shadows

It has been said that the number of turkey buzzards in any given area neither increases nor diminishes with the passing years. This is singular because they are known to extend their flight to a great distance. In 1836 William Jones caught a buzz&rd on his father's plantation now known as the Jackson - near Dr. L. G. Hardman's place, and fastening a small brass bell, on which his name and date were plainly written to the captive's neck, he turned it loose unhurt. Some months passed and the same bird, having excited the curiosity of many people, was shot in the vicinity of Savannah, Ga., and the curious noise it made when flying was explained. The probability is that there are no more turkey buzzards now than when the country was first settled by the white man, nor are there any less.