8. Page 212.  The “Annual Register” in giving among State Papers the text of a treaty between Governor Lyttleton of South Carolina, Captain-General, etc., and Atta-Kulla-Kulla, “deputy for the whole Cherokee Nation,” dated at Fort Prince George, Dec. 26, 1759, adds in a note:  “Atta-Kulla-Kulla, the Little Carpenter, who concluded this treaty in behalf of the Cherokee Indians, was in England and at court several times in the year 1730.”

9. Page 215.  The oratorical gifts of this Indian (under the name Chollochcullah, supposed to be a phonetic variant of Atta-Kulla-Kulla) are thus described in The Gentleman’s Magazine for October, 1755, chronicling the details of an earlier diplomatic occasion:  “The speaker rose up, and holding a bow in one hand and a sheaf of arrows in the other, he delivered himself in the following words, with all the distinctness imaginable, with the dignity and graceful action of a Roman or Grecian orator, and with all their ease and eloquence.”

10. Page 231.  Their tribal name, “men of fire,” and their great veneration for that element have given rise to the conjecture that the Cherokees were originally fire-worshipers, as well as polytheistic.  The interpolation of the intensative syllable “ta” is, according to Adair, a “note of magnitude,” and the title of their prophets, whose functions are blended as priests, conjurers, physicians, and councilors,—­the cheera-taghe,—­signifies “men of divine fire.”  But Adair protests that the theistic ideals of the Indians were wholly spiritual, and that they had no plurality of gods.  They paid their devotions merely to the “great beneficent supreme holy spirit of fire, who resides as they think above the clouds,” and he argues plausibly that if they worshiped fire itself they would not have willfully extinguished the sanctified element annually on the last day of the old year throughout the nation, the invariable custom, before the cheera-taghe of each town kindled the “holy fire” anew, this being one of their exclusive functions.  It may be that in their ancient rhapsodies (many of which Mr. James Mooney has collected for the Smithsonian Institution) addressed to bird or flame or beast the Indians adopted a poetic license no more significant of polytheism than the flights of fancy of many Christian poets in odes to the moon, to Fate, “to the red planet Mars,” to the “wild west wind.”  Mere impersonation and invocation in apostrophe and paeans are not necessarily worship.  Doubtless these spells and charms often arose from a superstitious half-belief, an imaginative freak, such as possesses the civilized visionary who shows a coin to the new moon to propitiate its fancied waxing influence in behalf of a balance at the banker’s, or the Christianized Scotch Highlander of even the early nineteenth century who threw a piece of hasty pudding over the left shoulder on the anniversary of Bealdin (the Gaelic for no other than Baal) to appease the spirits of the mists, the winds, the ravens, the eagles, and thus protect the crops and flocks.  There is a thin boundary line as difficult to define as “to distinguish and divide a hair ’twixt south and southwest side,” between true belief and feigned credence.