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! ”

 ^^^^^

EPILOGUE

‘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