Chapter 3:     THE END IS NEAR...

Daily the hills to the North grow taller. Gray Granite with small trees growing in the rocks. We have seen a very tall mountain that reflects in the river. It is called by the soldiers Pinnacle. The trail is now between mountains and the river. The wind blows most days, this land is dense with hardwood and tall pines. Snow fall here is more like a dusting, than the deep snow of our Mountains, the bitter cold is the same.

A-wi a speaks now of a group that has reached Ft.Gibson, if only our march was to the end. The wailing of the women grows less each day as our numbers grow fewer daily. We no longer are allowed to give our dead proper burial, we are only allowed to bury after the days journey ends. The elders now dig mass burial pits, they are not deep enough, we try to mark each place so we will be able to find our people to give them proper ceremonial rites.

Animals have dug up some graves by the next morning, Mothers and families of those buried beg and plead to re-bury, their request are denied. I cannot bring myself to go with the group nightly nor do I want to hear the ghastly details. A-wi a has never treated me harshly, she scolds me, saying that we must never loose our sacred customs. Sprits will never rest until they are chanted through this life, all will be cursed to roam this land. Many heard these harsh words towards me, my face grows hot with shame, this is not like a-wi a at all. This coarseness is like being whipped.

I sit by the wheel of our wagon. Too tired to eat too tired to sleep. Lark returns from the burial of this night. She wonders aloud if the spirits will forever be lost to us. I can only shake my head. I cannot speak. Lark places her bow harp to her mouth, beautiful sounds are all about.

A -wi a returns with Larks father. Once again she is harsh in greeting me. She scoffs me for not having a fire of moss with water and tubers, on to boil. It is very late I am just so very tired. I am offered some hardtack by a-wi a, I refuse the biscuit with no taste.

Dreams come to me of evil spirits, fire jumping all about, moving into the tall trees of my home. I hear the screams of those trying to escape the inferno even the animals scream. I can smell burnt flesh and hair. I sit up! I am in the wagon, a-wi a is walking at the side she says "the spirits have allowed you to return" Lark tells me that I have been in deep sleep for 2 days, heat coming off my body like fire. I attempt to sit upright falling back, my teeth now chatter, the chill sets in. When next I wake Lark is at my side with our broather. She puts only small amounts into my mouth, my tongue feels dry like jerky meat, my lips are cracked feeling very dry. Lark tells me a-wi a, is again with her Father on burial detail.

This broth has tubers dug from near the river where fern grows in the season for herbs, and fish heads from the Crow. It warms my stomach but burns my mouth. I tell Lark, I had wished to leave, becoming a spirit, but now I choose to live to see this march come to an end. A-wi a, returns she says for me to save my strength, she will do what I am detailed to do along with her own. She appears very pale almost ashen in color. I wonder if I am dreaming, have I crossed over into the land of the spirits?

Since crossing the Grandfather river we have carried rocks to heat by our fire at night. This night a-wi a, puts them around me. She and the others lay beneath the wagon. I hear the oxen breath also the Scotsman's fiddle off in the distance down the trail.

Now I smell the Crow guards, walking sentinel they spit into the embers of our small fire, grunting as they walk by. The Crow chew the hard tabac of the settlers, saying it eases the pain that burns in their stomachs they are bitter at the Federal troops that eat first, allowing the Crow what is left.. It is our peoples custom to smoke tabac in a pipe, we have always grown hemp for the pipes, as well for medicinal purposes. Especially the aged or infirmed to soothe too much emotion. Lark, offers me a dried braid of hemp to chew, I chew it this night.

During the days of my illness the march has made very little progress. We are nearing a place called Argenta, across the river from Little Rock a port on the river. It is said we may be interned for some time at a mission north of the river, along a bayou called Illinois.

We now can see both the beginning of the wagons as well as the end, so many are no longer with us. Our march will end within 2 phases of the moon. We left Black mountain, walking all across Tennessee now we have covered most of this territory. I see ahead buildings, I think to myself it is a Cherokee settlement. The Crow mock me, they say Dwight mission is ahead. The lost children of the Cherokee send their children for schooling to this mission. We are to be re-supplied also the wagons repaired for the last part of the march. On arrival at Dwight mission, only the weakest are allowed in the compound, we are camped outside.

The mission has a grinder for the acorns we have found the last few weeks .We were to receive ground grits, flour and corn meal that occurred very seldom. I see a large log house 2 stories high, many smaller houses surround the large house. I now smell smoke from curing meat, it makes my stomach ache I get a dizzy feeling. A carpentry shop is here they will attempt to repair the worn out wagons.

Though winter lays heavy on this land I hear boys playing stick ball, each boy has a stick with a net on the end, a small ball is thrown into the field, each team must reach the opposite end of the field without touching the ball, with their hands. This is a very rough game. Our people were taught this by the people of the south east area of Turtle Island these children have classes and go to their home on special days.

Our Nations wise scholar, Sequoia is far behind us with another group. Now in his 80s his vision is growing dim. The guards say more than 3000 of the Cherokee have escaped this relocation march. Now they hide in the mountains and along the many trails. I am hopeful that my Father and Sister are among those escapees.