A Legend of the Waccamaw-Sioux
‘T is surely a legend of antiquity - these conjectures we hear
An allegorical creation of Lake Waccamaw
‘T was an immense flower-mound Indians did claim
Tended by a princess, directed by the Great Spirit’s Law.
‘T was of yore this premise learned
A colorful kaleidoscopic mound, yet not a lake
Elegant bouquets of flowers adorned the knoll
Oh…what a delightful hill such blossoms make.
A rainbow of hue blanketed the hill
Pink, orange, violet, and gold, to name but a few
Beautiful as a princess, breathless to behold
Myriad of splendor with a tinge of blue.
Amid the trees and ‘tween the flowers
Sat a dark and beautiful Waccamaw maiden
An Indian Princess of the Siouan language
“Mind the hill,” said the Great Spirit “This you’re so laden.”
She everlastingly cherished her hill of posies
She never yearned to flee or hide
Her duty was to mind the opulent hill
And bestow her blessings upon the tribe.
Every spring the sons of tribal chiefs
Sojourns a day bestowing praise and cheer
Bearing flowers - their most majestic of gifts
In exchange of tribal blessings yet another year.
‘T was the beauty and elegance of the Indian princess
That formed the neophyte so amorous one year
“Please be my wife”, he asked and begged
I’m a brave warrior; you need not fear.
He coerced her to leave her flowers and mound
And return with him to his kindred’s home
She graciously refused his proposal of marriage
Who would bestow tribal favors - should she roam?
The beautiful Princess cherished her hill of flowers
She felt obliged to stay and protect
But gracious as she was, the rejection cut deep
The chief’s son couldn't hold bitterness in check.
Livid, hurt, and besotted with love
A solemn promise the neophyte did make
He opted to nix the princess’ tribe
For the heartache he just could not shake.
Weapons and warriors he quickly mustered
And off to war equipped to fight
Determined to disgrace and destroy her tribe
They fought with courage to the warrior’s delight.
Two tribes battling with prodigious thunder
The heavens orange with arrows aflame
Igniting the skies; searing the planet
All warriors fighting, devoid of shame.
Flowers to ashes, mound charred and destroyed,
The fiery carnage took a toll.
The stunning princess deeply aggrieved,
Fell to the ground as a troubled soul.
She lamented and exclaimed aloud
“Great Spirit I beg, please intervene
Abort this war I beseech of you
This incendiary so obscene.”
With the Flowers consumed and mound defaced
“Please Great Spirit I implore of you
Oust the hill and beget a lake
A lake of lakes, fitting for the Waccamaw-Sioux."
“An enormous lake that will never dry
Protective of flowers from devastating fire”
The Great Spirit heeding her orison
Sent a flaming comet to end the quagmire.
The fireball slammed with tremendous might
Conveying the princess into celestial bliss
Transforming her to twinkling stars transmitting axioms to earth,
Axioms of peace, epistles of love, each sealed with a kiss.
That bolide collided with such force,
It left the oval mound concaved and full of water.
The mound now gone and in its place,
A gigantic lake obscuring the fiery slaughter.
That’s why the Waccamaw-Sioux, according to lore,
Are also known as
“The people of the fallen star! ”
‘T is an allegorical creation of Lake Waccamaw
Directed by the Great Spirit’s Law
Once tended by a princess afar
For the people of the fallen star.
Copyright © 2011 Michael Hollingsworth All rights reserved