Fʋni Lusa-hosh Mahlatah! Choctaw Treatment of the Solar Eclipse

This is an excerpt from Horatio Bardwell Cushman’s History of the Choctaw, Chickasaw and Natchez Indians. H. B. Cushman was born in 1822 and published this history in 1899.

He worked some on one of the editions of the Choctaw Dictionary, modifying Cyrus Byington’s work in a way that did not lend itself well to accurately representing the Choctaw language, and this book itself is full of Christianity and Eurocentric ideas about race and civilization, so take this report of Choctaw religious beliefs with a grain of salt.

Many of the North American Indian tribes believed, in regard to the eclipse of "the sun and moon, that some animal, wolf, dog, etc., was devouring the sun, and made every effort to drive him away. Some whipped their own dogs during an eclipse because a "Big dog" was eating the sun or moon, and believed the "Big dog" might be induced to postpone his meal by the howls of their whipped curs.

The ancient Choctaws believed an eclipse was caused by a little black squirrel, which had resolved to devour the sun, and which could only be saved from the little gormandizer by frightening him away by a great noise, to which I have, more than once, been an eye , was devouring the sun, and made every effort to drive him away. Some whipped their own dogs during an eclipse because a "Big dog" was eating the sun or moon, and believed the "Big dog" might be induced to postpone his meal by the howls of their whipped curs.

The ancient Choctaws believed an eclipse was caused by a little black squirrel, which had resolved to devour the sun, and which could only be saved from the little gormandizer by frightening him away by a great noise, to which I have, more than once, been an eyewitness, and to the modus operandi adopted to give him a scare; and also testify from experience as to the virtues of the music; at least the sun came out all right; but as to the strict adherence to the accepted rules of harmony during the performance, I will write more definitely on some other page. It is also stated, that the South American Indians believed that the moon, when in an eclipse, was being" devoured by dog s, and, to scare them off, the natives, made a great noise. (Tyler, "Culture," Vol. 1, p. 296.) Also of the African Moors, says Grimm, "Teutonic Mythology," Vol, 2, p. 707. When the sun eclipse was at its highest, we saw the people running- about as if mad, and firing their guns at the sun, to frighten the monster who, they supposed, was wishing to devour the orb of day. The women banged copper vessels together, making such a din that it was heard miles away."

He expounds on this in a later section of the book.

The Choctaws, as before stated, attributed an eclipse of the sun to a black squirrel, whose eccentricities often led it into mischief, and, among other things, that of trying to eat up the sun at different intervals. When thus inclined, they believed, which was confirmed by long experience, that the only effective means to prevent so fearful a catastrophe befalling the world as the blotting out of that indispensable luminary, was to favor the little, black epicure with a first-class scare; therefore, whenever he manifested an inclination to indulge in a meal on the sun, every ingenuity was called into requisition to give him a genuine fright that he would be induced, at least, to postpone his meal on the sun at that particular time and seek a lunch elsewhere. As soon, therefore, as the sun began to draw its lunar veil over its face, the cry was heard from every mouth from the Dan to the Beersheba of their then wide extended territory, echoing from hill to dale, "Funi lusa hushi umpa! Funi lusa hushi umpa," according to our phraseology, The black squirrel is eating the sun! Then and there was heard a sound of tumult by day in the Choctaw Nation for the space of an hour or two, far exceeding that said to have been heard by night in Belgium’s Capital, and sufficient in the conglomeration of discordant tones terrific, if heard by the distant, little, fastidious squirrel, to have made him lose forever afterward all relish for a mess of suns for an early or late dinner. The shouts of the women and children mingling with the ringing of discordant bells as the vociferous pounding and beating of ear-splitting tin pans and cups mingling in "wild confusion worse confounded," yet in sweet unison with a first-class orchestra of yelping, howling, barking dogs gratuitously thrown in by the innumerable and highly excited curs, produced a din, which even a "Funi lusa," had he heard it, could scarcely have endured even to have indulged in a nibble or two of the sun, though urged by the demands of a week’s fasting.

But during the wild scene the men were not idle spectators, or indifferent listeners. Each stood a few paces in front of his cabin door, with no outward manifestation of excitement whatever so characteristic of the Indian warrior but with his trusty rifle in hand, which so oft had proved a friend sincere in many hours of trial, which he loaded and fired in rapid succession at the distant, devastating squirrel, with the same coolness and calm deliberation that he did when shooting at his game. More than once have I witnessed the fearful yet novel scene. When it happened to be the time of a total eclipse of the sun, a sufficient evidence that the little, black epicure meant business in regard to having a square meal, though it took the whole sun to furnish it, -then indeed there were sounds of revelry and tumult unsurpassed by any ever heard before, either in "Belgium" or elsewhere. Then the women shrieked and redoubled their efforts upon the tin pans, which, under the desperate blows, strained every vocal organ to do its utmost and whole duty in loud response, while the excited children screamed and beat their tin cups, and the sympathetic dogs (whose name was legion) barked and howled all seemingly determined not to fall the one behind other in their duty since the occasion demanded it; while the warriors still stood, in profound and meditative silence, but firm and undaunted, as they quickly loaded and fired their rifles, each time taking deliberative aim, if perchance the last shot might prove the successful one; then, as the moon’s shadow began to move from the disk of the sun, the joyful shout was heard above the mighty din Funi-lusa-osh mahlatah! The black squirrel is frightened. But the din remained unabated until the sun again appeared in its usual splendor, and all nature again assumed its harmonious course; then quiet below again assumed its sway, while contentment and happiness resumed their accustomed place in the hearts of the grateful Choctaws grateful to the Great Spirit who had given them the victory. But the scene of a total eclipse of the sun in the Choctaw Nation in those ancient years must be witnessed to be justly comprehended by the lover of the romantic, and heard by the highly sensitive ear to be fully appreciated and enjoyed.