Sassafras Mountain Trailhead
South Carolina
December 2009
This landscape is made up of high rocky outcrops with views to the horizon as well as quiet forests in deep valleys carved through by mountain streams. The highest elevation along this thing is 3553 feet, the top of Sassafras Mountain, the top of South Carolina, our destination. We have chosen for our route a section of the Foothills Trail that climbs from the Eastatoe Creek in Rocky Bottom to the summit of the state.
Eastatoe is a Native American name referring to the vibrant Carolina parakeet, now extinct.
Sad story. The Carolina parakeet was the only parrot species native to the eastern United States, and when they were around in the 1800s and possibly earlier, they were around in enormous numbers. Unfortunately, several factors put them out of business.
First, they annoyed the farmers by eating their seeds and fruit. In response, farmers blasted them out of the sky with powerful firearms. The surviving Carolina parakeets, who scattered in response to the loud banging of the guns, made their bid for the Darwin Award by immediately flocking back to the location where the shooting was going on. Line ’em up, boys!
Next, their habitat was destroyed in order to make room for more agricultural land.
And third, the Eastatoe were quite pretty with their green, yellow and red plumage. Abundantly attractive as a bird, or as an adornment on hats worn by the lady folk. Milliners plucked the birds silly. The last known Carolina parakeet perished in 1918.
Hang around this area for a while and you might hear the name of the bird. But listen carefully, you might be hearing “Estatoe” rather than “Eastatoe.” Estatoe was a Catawba princess, Eastatoe is our bird. It would be easy to confuse one with the other. Try not to.
ESTATOE
The Legend of the Esta”Toe” River
This legend was told by students in the Mitchell County Schools in 1938. Some versions of the story depict Estatoe as a Cherokee Indian, others as a Catawba Indian.
In the early days before the white people came to these parts, there lived two tribes of hostile Indians. To the east, beyond the Blue Ridge, lived the Catawbas; to the west, among the foot hills of the Unaka Mountains, dwelt the Cherokees. The area that is now known as Mitchell County was rich in mica, which was used for barter and jewelry. The area was abundant in fishing, and also in hunting. Here the braves from each tribe met to fight. And sometimes a man and maiden would meet and fall in love.
Among the maidens of the Catawba was the beautiful princess Estatoe, daughter of the chief. Not unlike the other Catawba women, Estatoe was adept at making jewelry. One day she went out to admire a necklace she had just made in the crystal water of a nearby brook. As she gazed at the stream, she was startled by a sound. She turned to see a young Cherokee warrior. The young brave explained that he had separated from his hunting party and was on his way to meet them. The young Indians found many things to talk about, and their first meeting was a long one. They were both reluctant to return to their tribes and they decided they would meet again. Late in the afternoon would come the distant call of a whippoorwill, and they knew it was time to come together.
Late one evening as Estatoe returned to camp from a meeting with her lover, she paused at the door of her father’s lodge. A council was in progress and the warriors were giving warning of a hated Cherokee that was lurking near the village. They decided to seek him out and kill him.
Estatoe wasted no time in warning that brave, her lover.
Estatoe begged him to escape, but he refused to leave without her. So off they went together. But a sentry followed her, and overheard her plans, and went back to tell the Catawba Chief.
The tribe chased them until they were surrounded on a high bluff overlooking the river. Escape was impossible. The young Cherokee warrior tried to push Estatoe back toward her Kinsmen, but she refused to budge.
Placing her hand in his, she stood by his side at the edge of the cliff. As they stood facing the sunset, they gave a silent prayer to the Great Spirit, then they jumped, hand in hand, from the precipice, far down into the foaming waters.
The Catawba chief, her father, and his braves approached the spot where the lovers had stood and gazed into the depths below. He raised his eyes to the heavens, and with arms outstretched, he committed his daughter to the keeping of the Great Spirit. The chief decreed that the river whose waters had enfolded his daughter in death, should be called forever by her name, The Estatoe.
The white man later shortened the name to the Toe River, but the spirit of Estatoe lives on in Mitchell County through the telling of this legend.