EDITOR’S NOTE: Strangeville explores the legends, folklore, and unexplained history of Western North Carolina. From Cherokee mythology and Appalachian ghost stories to Bigfoot sightings and UFO encounters, the Blue Ridge Mountains have long been a hotspot for the strange and mysterious. Join us as we dig into the past and uncover the truth behind the region’s most curious tales.
ASHEVILLE, N.C. — In Western North Carolina, folks still talk about a cat that walks like a woman. Its eyes gleam like lanterns in the dark, they say, and its scream can freeze a man in his tracks. The Wampus Cat has haunted Appalachian imagination for over a century, though historians believe the creature’s story says more about the people who spread the legend.
The tale is often shared as a Cherokee legend: a woman who disobeyed tribal law, wrapped herself in a cougar’s skin, and spied on a forbidden men’s ceremony. When she was caught, she was cursed, condemned to wander the forest forever, half woman and half mountain cat. Another version describes a Cherokee woman named Running Deer, who donned a bobcat mask to battle an evil spirit called Ew’ah. Victorious but changed, she became the Wampus Cat, protector and outcast at once.
Researchers say the popular version of the story is a legend about the Cherokee, retold through the lens of white Appalachian settlers. Early ethnographers such as James Mooney, whose Myths of the Cherokee was published in 1900, make no mention of a “Wampus Cat.” Instead, folklorists suggest the story emerged later, as mountain storytellers combined fragments of Native myths with their own fears of wilderness and the unknown.
Even the word itself seems rooted not in Cherokee language but in Appalachian dialect. “Wampus,” derived from “catawampus” or “cattywampus,” meant askew, monstrous, or out of order. Paired with “catamount,” an old term for cougar, it produced the name of a creature both familiar and strange – half myth, half folk expression.
By the early 20th century, the Wampus Cat help a firm place in mountain folklore. Campers claimed to hear its cry echo through coves near Sylva and Franklin. Hunters along the French Broad River blamed it for livestock gone missing. In the fog-bound hills, the story served as both a warning and a comfort, a reminder that the woods still held mysteries beyond human understanding.
Then, in 1964, the legend stepped out of the shadows in another part of the state. In Johnston County, southeast of Raleigh, a rumor of a “Wampus Cat” on the loose drew nearly 500 residents into the woods near Williams Mill Crossroads. Witnesses described everything from a gorilla to a “tall man in a long black robe.” Deputies closed roads and issued traffic tickets as people gathered nightly with rifles and flashlights. Sheriff Howard Olive Jr. eventually declared the affair “a teenage prank and a poor joke,” insisting there was no Wampus Cat to be found.

In Western North Carolina today, the Wampus Cat still prowls the cultural landscape. It appears in regional art, ghost tours, and storytelling festivals, often framed as a symbol of the mountains themselves – wild and unpredictable.
The Wampus Cat reminds us that every story leaves tracks, and that legends, once loosed into the world, are rarely content to stay in one place.





