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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 traveled far.Soon he saw the fires of Puma, neighbor warrior, Chief of MightAnd his eyes fell upon Pehadee, daughter of the Puma TribeUnder the gaze of frowning Puma, young Hurinoma was not wanted,Here among the Puma TribeStrongly beat the heart of the lover as he walked into the light,Here was beauty pure, haughty woman this Pehadee of the Puma TribeAs 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 loveBeside 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 loversDeep into a watery grave, and the water darkened deeply, from blood of the lovers.The water kept its blackness, kept the secret in its depthsSo it came to be Bogue Lusa, in the language of the MuskogeanAnd on the nights clear and still, Pehadee can be heard callingHer name across the black waterAnd the voice of her lover, Hurinoma,Muffled by the blackened water,Calls “Hurinoma, Hurinoma”© 1970, Robert D. Lawrence Jr.In memoriamRobert D. Lawrence IIIOct.5, 1962-July 17, 2002
