The h2g2 Literary Corner: Pioneer Etymologies
Created | Updated Apr 24, 2016
Talking about ancestors again. What have they done to our languages? When you're doing etymologies, it might be well to look at older books, particularly pre-internet: less cut-and-paste, more research. This excerpt tells us where the expression 'Indian summer' comes from (do you have that one, Brits?). The textbook is Pioneers of the Old Southwest, by Constance Lindsay Skinner, Yale University Press, 1919. It's well-researched, in other words. Those who were outraged by the film The Patriot should read this book: it has some very complimentary things to say about Major Ferguson, whose grave Your Editor has grown thoughtful over more than once on King's Mountain.
The term 'Southwest' may be confusing: back in the late 18th Century, what is now Tennessee and Kentucky (aka the Southeast United States) was called the Southwest Territory. Makes sense. And it was a wild frontier, where the local settlers sometimes lived in peace with the tribal people, and sometimes not. So read on.
Pioneer Etymologies
Into the pioneer's phrase-making the Indian influence penetrated so that he named seasons for his foe. So thoroughly has the term Indian Summer, now to us redolent of charm, become disassociated from its origins that it gives us a shock to be reminded that to these Back Country folk the balmy days following on the cold snap meant the season when the red men would come back for a last murderous raid on the settlements before winter should seal up the land. The Powwowing Days were the mellow days in the latter part of February, when the red men in council made their medicine and learned of their redder gods whether or no they should take the warpath when the sap pulsed the trees into leaf. Even the children at their play acknowledged the red-skinned schoolmaster, for their chief games were a training in his woodcraft and in the use of his weapons. Tomahawk-throwing was a favorite sport because of its gruesome practical purposes. The boys must learn to gauge the tomahawk's revolutions by the distance of the throw so as to bury the blade in its objective. Swift running and high jumping through the brush and fallen timber were sports that taught agility in escape. The boys learned to shoot accurately the long rifles of their time, with a log or a forked stick for a rest, and a moss pad under the barrel to keep it from jerking and spoiling the aim. They wrestled with each other, mastered the tricks of throwing an opponent, and learned the scalp hold instead of the toe hold. It was part of their education to imitate the noises of every bird and beast of the forest. So they learned to lure the turkey within range, or by the bleat of a fawn to bring her dam to the rifle. A well-simulated wolf's howl would call forth a response and so inform the lone hunter of the vicinity of the pack. This forest speech was not only the language of diplomacy in the hunting season; it was the borderer's secret code in war. Stray Indians put themselves in touch again with the band by turkey calls in the daytime and by owl or wolf notes at night. The frontiersmen used the same means to trick the Indian band into betraying the place of its ambuscade, or to lure the strays, unwitting, within reach of the knife.
