My father was at my grandfather’s house a couple days ago, and nearly stepped on a copperhead. It did not bite him.
Here’s an old story from the mythology of our ancestors:
The Sun lived on the other side of the sky vault, but her daughter
lived in the middle of the sky, directly above the earth, and every day
as the Sun was climbing along the sky arch to the west she used to
stop at her daughter’s house for dinner.
Now, the Sun hated the people on the earth, because they could
never look straight at her without screwing up their faces. She said
to her brother, the Moon, “My grandchildren are ugly; they grin all
over their faces when they look at me." But the Moon said, “I like
my younger brothers; I think they are very handsome” — because
they always smiled pleasantly when they saw him in the sky at night,
for his rays were milder.
The Sun was jealous and planned to kill all the people, so every day
when she got near her daughter’s house she sent down such sultry
rays that there was a great fever and the people died by hundreds,
until everyone had lost some friend and there was fear that no one
would be left. They went for help to the Little Men, who said the
only way to save themselves was to kill the Sun.
The Little Men made medicine and changed two men to snakes, the
Spreading-adder and the Copperhead, and sent them to watch near the
door of the daughter of the Sun to bite the old Sun when she came
next day. They went together and hid near the house until the Sun
came, but when the Spreading-adder was about to spring, the bright
light blinded him and he could only spit out yellow slime, as he does
to this day when he tries to bite. She called him a nasty thing and went
by into the house, and the Copperhead crawled off without trying
to do anything.
So the people still died from the heat, and they went to the Little
Men a second time for help. The Little Men made medicine again and
changed one man into the great Uktena and another into the Rattlesnake
and sent them to watch near the house and kill the old Sun when
she came for dinner. They made the Uktena very large, with horns
on his head, and everyone thought he would be sure to do the work,
but the Rattlesnake was so quick and eager that he got ahead and coiled
up just outside the house, and when the Sun’s daughter opened the
door to look out for her mother, he sprang up and bit her and she fell
dead in the doorway. He forgot to wait for the old Sun, but went
back to the people, and the Uktena was so very angry that he went
back, too. Since then we pray to the rattlesnake and do not kill him,
because he is kind and never tries to bite if we do not disturb him.
The Uktena grew angrier all the time and very dangerous, so that if
he even looked at a man, that man’s family would die. After a long
time the people held a council and decided that he was too dangerous
to be with them, so they sent him up to Galun’lati, and he is there
now. The Spreading-adder, the Copperhead, the Rattlesnake, and the
Uktena were all men.
An ancient engraving of two Uktena tied together.
When the Sun found her daughter dead, she went into the house
and grieved, and the people did not die any more, but now the world
was dark all the time, because the Sun would not come out. They
went again to the Little Men, and these told them that if they wanted
the Sun to come out again they must bring back her daughter from
Tsusgina’i, the Ghost country, in Usunhi’yi, the Darkening land in
the west. They chose seven men to go, and gave each a sourwood rod
a hand-breadth long. The Little Men told them they must take a box
with them, and when they got to Tsftsgina’i they would find all the
ghosts at a dance. They must stand outside the circle, and when the
young woman passed in the dance they must strike her with the rods
and she would fall to the ground. Then they must put her into the
box and bring her back to her mother, but they must be very sure not
to open the box, even a little way, until they were home again.
They took the rods and a box and traveled seven days to the west
until they came to the Darkening land. There were a great many
people there, and they were having a dance just as if they were at
home in the settlements. The young woman was in the outside circle,
and as she swung around to where the seven men were standing, one
struck her with his rod and she turned her head and saw him. As she
came around the second time another touched her with his rod, and
then another and another, until at the seventh round she fell out of
the ring, and they put her into the box and closed the lid fast. The
other ghosts seemed never to notice what had happened.
They took up the box and started home toward the east. In a little
while the girl came to life again and begged to be let out of the box,
but they made no answer and went on. Soon she called again and said
she was hungry, but still they made no answer and went on. After
another while she spoke again and called for a drink and pleaded so
that it was very hard to listen to her, but the men who carried the box
said nothing and still went on. When at last they were very near
home, she called again and begged them to raise the lid just a little,
because she was smothering. They were afraid she was really dying
now, so they lifted the lid a little to give her air, but as they did so
there was a fluttering sound inside and something flew past them into
the thicket and they heard a redbird cry, "kwish! kwish! kwish!” in
the bushes. They shut down the lid and went on again to the settlements,
but when they got there and opened the box it was empty.
The female redbird.So we know the Redbird is the daughter of the Sun, and if the men
had kept the box closed, as the Little Men told them to do, they would
have brought her home safely, and we could bring back our other
friends also from the Ghost country, but now when they die we can
never bring them back.
The Sun had been glad when they started to the Ghost country, but
when they came back without her daughter she grieved and cried, "
My daughter, my daughter," and wept until her tears made a flood
upon the earth, and the people were afraid the world would be
drowned. They held another council, and sent their handsomest young
men and women to amuse her so that she would stop crying. They
danced before the Sun and sang their best songs, but for a long time
she kept her face covered and paid no attention, until at last the
drummer suddenly changed the song, when she lifted up her face, and
was so pleased at the sight that she forgot her grief and smiled.
–19th Annual Report of the Bureau of American Ethnology, 1900.