Bogue Lusa Creek
Many years before the great death, there walked a warrior, Hurinoma
With towering form and haughty stride, the pride of his father, Kupa,
And the bravest of the tribe.
Following the stream's gurgling rush, Hurinoma travelled far.
Soon he saw the fires of Puma, neighbor warrior, Chief of Might
And his eyes fell upon Pehadee, daughter of the Puma Tribe
Under the gaze of frowning Puma , young Hurinoma was not wanted,
Here among the Puma Tribe
Strongly beat the heart of the lover as he walked into the light,
Here was beauty pure, haughty woman this Pehadee of the Puma Tribe
As she gazed upon his features, the fire spoke to her ear,
"It is he of our vision, Little Daughter, Hurinoma of the Kupa Tribe."
Beyond the flicker of the flames, Without a word, without a gesture,
Off into the forest they wandered, away from Puma, from Kupa's sight.
The wrath of Puma was mighty; the anger of Kupa yet greater,
They joined hands in vengeance as Hurinoma and Pehadee had in love
Beside the crystal clear water of the stream they found them,
Sleeping gently, 'neath the cypress, and in their madness, they killed them,
As punishment for their love.
The sparkling water, angered by the sight above,
Raged and rumbled, thundered higher, taking the lovers
Deep into a watery grave, and the water darkened deeply,
from blood of the lovers.
The water kept its blackness, kept the secret in its depths
So it came to be Bogue Lusa, in the language of the Muskogean
And on the nights clear and still,
Pehadee can be heard calling
Her name across the black water
And the voice of her lover, Hurinoma,
Muffled by the blackened water,
Calls "Hurinoma, Hurinoma"
© 1970, Robert D. Lawrence Jr.
In memoriam
Robert D. Lawrence III
Oct.5, 1962-July 17, 2002
