Swanannoa is one of the most resonant of Indian names, though in being accommodated to English orthography it has lost much of its music. It would be impossible to indicate the original pronunciation. I can, perhaps, tell you nearer how to utter it. Begin with a suppressed sound of the letter “s,” then with tongue and palate lowered, utter the vowel sound of “a” in swan four times in quick succession, giving to the first as much time as to the second two, and raise the voice one note on the last. The word is said to have been derived from the sound made by a raven’s wing as it sweeps through the air. Before white settlers came into the country that species of bird was very plentiful along all the streams, and at their points of confluence were its favorite roosting places, whence, aided by the scent of the water, it sallied up stream in search of food. Hundreds collected at the mouth of the Swanannoa, and the name was the oft repeated imitation, by the voice, of the music of their wings, as they whizzed past the morning camp-fire of the hunter or warrior bands, on the bank of the stream. The hungry, homely, and hated raven is indeed an humble origin for a name so beautiful, applied to an object so much applauded for its beauty. If the upper tributaries of the French Broad ever had names worthy of their character which have been displaced by such colloquialisms as Cathey’s creek, Davidson’s river, Mills’ river, and Little river, they perished with the race more in sympathy with nature than the inhabitants of the last century. By some chance that gentle stream which snakes through the flat valley of Henderson county, has preserved an Indian designation, though it is probably a borrowed one. Ocklawaha is the name which we find in old legal documents, and its tributary, which gives the county’s capital a peninsular situation, is designated the Little Ocklawaha--a barbarous mixture of Indian and English. The word is of Seminole origin, and means “slowly moving water.” It was applied to a river in Florida by the natives, and to this Carolina stream by the “low country” people who found summer homes beyond the Blue Ridge, because of the applicability of the name and its resemblance in some other respects to the original Ochlawaha. Reverence of antiquity and the geographical genius of the red race, can not be claimed as an argument in favor of the re-substitution of the Indian designation for the present universally used colloquialism, “Mud creek,” as homely as it is false in the idea it suggests. Ochlawaha is not only more pleasing to the ear, but gives a much more faithful description of the landscape feature designated, and hence has sufficient claims to the public recognition which we take the lead in giving it.