Chewacla never did much for me as state parks go. It is quiet and there are never too many people there, but the water always looked like this. The trails were mild, but I'm spoiled on the bigger, better parks and so the smaller, forgotten ones never hold up.

The Legend of Chewacla is printed here, which goes like the legend of every other place that enjoys a Native American name. A young guy meets a young girl, but their love is forbidden. Unlike most, these two young lovers don't throw themselves from the mountain or over the waterfall to prove their love. Either option at Chewacla would just hurt you, rather than denote the ultimate life of love through death.

Instead Chewacla and his beloved Kiattina are running from people who oppose their union. Chewacla, realizing their long odds, decides he should commit a murder-suicide.

Ahh, love.

"The breast was bared to receive the blow, but it was fell not. The uplifted hand stood motionless inthe air. The earth trembled beneath the feet of the lovers. There was a deafening boom, a terrific crash, and the western half of the mountain was riven from end to end.

"Quick! Quick! Chewacla. Let fear drive the spurs and hope lend wings to thy feet.

"Away! Away! to the hospitable land of Alabama."

The whole piece is written with that flourish, bad punctuation and highly dramatic tone. It is a reprint from the 1897 Glomerata. The first one. Since I collect these things (anyone have an 1897 they don't need?) I give the whole narrative a free pass.

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