In the Nacochee Valley, long before the the white man walked this land, there dwelt in this lovely valley a young maiden of wonderful and almost celestial beauty. She was the daughter of a princess, chieftain of the tribe. Her name, Nacoochee, means Evening Star. In time, the beautiful Nacoochee came to the attention of Laceola, the son of the chieftain of a neighboring tribe who saw her and fell in love.

He stole her young heart. She loved him with a passion that only the noblest souls know. They met beneath the holy stars, and sealed their vows with kisses. In this valley, amid the purple blossoms of the passion-flower, scented by the muscadine, they found their place. Beside the hurrying waters of the Chattahoochee they vowed eternal love.

Whispers of their secret meetings reached the old chief, Nacoochee’s father, and his anger was terrible. He forbade Nacoochee to see Laceola but love was stronger in the heart of Nacoochee than even reverence for her father’s commands. One night the maiden was missed from her tent and the old chieftain commanded his warriors to pursue her. They found her with Laceola, the son of the hated tribe. In an instant an arrow was aimed at his breast but Nacoochee sprang before him and received the barbed shaft in her own heart. Laceola, his heart shattered, made no resistance, and his blood soon mingled with hers.

The lovers were buried in the same grave on a lofty mound in the valley which was ever after called Nacoochee. The mound still marks the trysting-place, and the grave of the maiden and her beloved, surmounted by a solitary pine, are still there, still part of this wondrous valley which will soon again unite the names of Nacoochee and Laceola beside this sparkling lake.