In the deep woods, above the old Indian’s ancient cabin of handhewn logs, there was the persistent barking of a dog.
“He’s treed something,” Said Mose Owl. “Let’s see what it is.”
Then, with his two small grandsons at his heels, he moved off up the trail past the spring and slipped silently into the woods.
As the old Indian approached, the dog raised his head, paused a moment to look at Mose, then resumed his frantic barking.
Mose stepped past the dog, reached under a big rock, and pulled out a terrapin.
The dog leaped barking at Mose, and Mose brushed him off with a swipe of a hand, said “Git!”, and the dog got.
The two little boys, their eyes large and dark and shining like chinquapins, laughed and ran to their grandfather and shouted, “Let me see! Let me see!”
Mose walked over to a log and sat down, the terrapin clutched in his hand, the boys swarming around him.
“Be quiet and listen,” he told them. “I want to show you something about the terrapin that not many folks know.”
His grandsons crawled up on the log, one on each side of him.
“All terrapins have pictures on their backs,” he said. “Like they were carved out with a knife or pressed on with a paddle like your mother decorates her pottery.”
“See here,” he pointed, running his finger around the terrapin’s shell. “See the row of men. They are all wearing Eagle capes, just like the Chief Eagle Dancer’s cape in Unto These Hills up at Mountainside Theater.”
But, Mose went on to tell them, the pictures on the terrapins are not all the same. Some portray Indian braves with only eagle wands, such as the dancers carry in the great Eagle Dance. Others portray Indian women in feather skirts.
“That’s how you tell the male and the female terrapins apart,” he explained. “Only the males wear the eagle capes or carry the eagle wands.”
All of this is a mystery, Mose added. Nobody knows for sure how the terrapins came to have pictures on their backs. But there they are for all to see.
“When I was a boy, back 70 years ago, the old men of the tribe had one story of how it came about,” Mose recalled. “They said it came to pass when only animals lived on the earth.”
“In that time, the animals had parties like folks have today. They gathered and danced and sang and just had a good time. All the animals went to the parties.”
“Well, there was one young fellow who always showed up at the parties but he always kept his face hidden. And there was a pretty girl who set her cap for him. But try as she would she couldn’t find out what his face was like. When he danced with her it was always just on the edge of the dance ground where the light couldn’t reach them and show his face.”
“One day the terrapin told the girl, “If you want to see his face, I’ll fix it so you can.”
“I’d better explain that all the parties were held at night. And nobody ever saw the young fellow in the daytime.”
“Well, the next time there was a party, the terrapin went out and gathered up an armful of laurel boughs and brought them in and put them on the fire. The leaves began to pop, making a loud noise.”
“Now laurel makes a bright light when it burns. It beats electricity. So when the laurel leaves began to pop this young fellow turned around to see what was making the noise.”
“That’s when the owl showed his face. If you notice today the owl will always have his back to you until you make a noise.”
“Well, when the other animals saw the owl’s face, they whooped and hollered and gathered around him. They began pulling feathers out of the owl’s wings and tail. They gave them to the terrapin and he began to put on a dance. it was like the Eagle Dance in the drama.”
“And that, the old men used to say, is how the terrapin got his costume. He got a feather cape and his wife got a feather skirt.”
“Of course, the animals don’t hold parties any more. They stopped long, long ago after the first men came. The owl stays to himself and so does the terrapin.”
“Some of the old men used to say that the Great Spirit painted the feather capes and feather skirts on the backs of the terrapins to remind folks of the time when the terrapin got the owl to show his face.”
Mose studies the terrapin in his hand a moment, then got up and walked over to the big rock. He bent down, put the terrapin back in its hole.
“Let’s go home boys,” he said to his two grandsons. “We’ll leave the terrapin where he belongs. And you keep your dog away from him.”
The two little boys looked up at their grandfather and nodded.
Then the old Indian took them by the hand and, together, they moved off down the trail.
—Wonder of the Terrapin’s Shell written by John Parris
Matt found the little terrapin in the photo out back near a blueberry bush. It was hugged up to the steps and looked like it was making preparations to lay eggs.
I never see a terrapin that I don’t think of Granny.
She’d call me of a summer day when she’d see one crawling in her yard or in the garden and say “The prettiest terrapin’s out in the yard. You ought to come take a picture of it.”
I almost always put down what I was doing and went to make a picture of Granny’s terrapin. One time I found her standing at the edge of the backyard with her big walking stick.
As I come into the yard I saw her and said “What are you doing?” She said “I’m a watching the terrapin to make sure it don’t get away.” I laughed and asked her how long she would have stood there waiting for me to come 🙂
I can’t remember if I ever told Granny about the legend of the terrapins and the Cherokee. I know she would have enjoyed it.
Tipper
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