This local story is another of the traces left to us of the Occaneechi
on the Eno.
Among the members of the tribe was a beautiful maiden, the daughter of
the chief. Her name was Ulalee, which means wood thrush. She was fond
of birds, and wherever she went she was followed by them. Her favorite
resort was a certain spring near Hillsboro, and there she often sat for
hours at a time surrounded by scores of her feathered friends. Ulalee had
many suitors none of whom she loved; but her father at last promised
her in marriage to an Oeeoneechee warrior named Oneluska. She asked that
the marriage be postponed a year, and this was granted.
One May day while she was at the spring attended by many birds, a young
warrior of the Tuscaroras came by, Kanandagea by name. He was as notable
in his tribe for strength and manliness as was Ulalee among the Occoneechee
for her beauty. He was on his way 10 fight the Catawbas who lived further
west. The two young people fell into conversation, and the result was that
Kanandagea washed the war paint from his face and remained in the neighborhood
to win the love of Ulalee. In this he was successful; indeed he won the
affection of the birds, too, and they soon showed as much friendliness
for him as they did for his sweetheart.
One day while Kanandagea and Ulalee were at the spring, OneIuska passed
by. He suddenly rcalizcd that his betrothed loved the brave Tuscarora,
gave the couple a reserved greeting, and went on. Ulalee was alarmed, fearing
that Onchiska would kill the man she loved. Kanandagea urged hcr to go
away with him at once, but she was unwilling to do so without again seeing
her village and her people. So she promised to meet him at the spring the
following day and then flee with him to his tribe and be his wife.
She kept her promise and arrived at the spring an hour before the appointed
time. Thither Oneluska followed her. She told him of her love for Kanandagea
and asked to be released from her engagement. He replied that by Indian
custom an engagement was legally a marriage, that she had therefore been
false to him and should die. Thereupon he drove his knife into her heart
and went away. The blood from the wound flowed into the spring and discolored
it. The birds, who had flown away at Oncluska's approach, returned and
were greatly alarmed at the death of Ulalee, making loud and harsh noises.
However, one bird, a male with a brown back and a gray breast, jumped into
the spring and covered himself with the water reddened by the blood, while
his male stood upon the bank and with her bill sprinkled a few drops on
her breast and the tips of her wings. Thus it happens, says the legend,
that ever since all male birds of that variety are red all over and their
mates only partly red.
| After a while Kanandagea came to the spring and saw the dead body
of his sweetheart. He went to the village and demanded justice. There
was a trial. Oneluska claimed that as Ulalee had been engaged to
him she was legally his wife and, as such had been disloyal to him,
she merited death. The chiefs agreed with him but permitted Kanandagea
to appeal to the Great Spirit through a duel with Oneluska. So the
two rivals fought, and Oneluska was slain. But Kanandagea had no
heart for warfare nor any desire to return to his own people. He
asked to be admitted to the Occoneechee tribe. This was granted,
and he made a wigwam in the forest and lived a hermit life, becoming
as close a friend to the birds as Ulalee had been. After many years
he died and was buried by the side of his sweetheart. The spirits
of the two lovers continued to haunt the spring, and there, at the
proper season through all the years since, one may hear the red birds
calling, Ulalee-e-e. |
"The Red Bird and the Hiccory Tree," Mark Catesby |
—Frank Nash, History of Orange County, 1910.
