New Yesterdays by Jim L Wright - HTML preview

Chapter 11

Hiawasee watched Dustu and Jim as they strolled across the village, making their way to the creek to bathe and play in the water. She approved their easy friendship. Seeing them together, it was difficult to imagine they had known each other a scant few weeks rather than from the cradle. Except for their vastly different physical traits, the boys could easily be brothers. Jim's shocking red hair, clear blue eyes and pale skin contrasted with Dustu's jet black hair, dark eyes and brown skin. They were roughly the same height and build, both being rather slim.

As she busied herself with the morning chores, she considered again why the spirits had led Jim to their village. The last man who came through the portal was so long ago that she, and many others, had believed him to be nothing more than a legend until this little white boy had found his way through.

She wondered again if the spirits had guided the white boy from the other side to bring a gift that would help them preserve their way of life. It was getting more and more difficult to resist the strange ways of the European settlers. The whites had been astonished to learn the Cherokee women were not subservient to men, but were in all respects their equals. The Cherokee kinship system, through the mother, was an alien concept they had never understood nor accepted. They were shocked to know that the father of a child wasn't even considered to be related and that the most important man in a child's life was not the father, but the mother's brother.

Cherokee women also actively participated in the councils and fought in battles. The female warriors were called 'War Women'. When the council was deciding whether to avenge a recent attack by an enemy, it was as often as not, the women who pushed for war.

Like all Cherokee women of the time, she owned the house and its furnishings and made all the decisions. Adahy lived with her and her two sisters and was free to leave at any time and move back into the house with his mother and aunts. However, she considered herself very fortunate to have a man like Adahy who offered wise counsel. Her husband was not demanding of her, nor she of him. They lived quietly together and were blissfully happy when Dustu had been safely born. Three times she had been pregnant and failed to carry her babies to term. She had begun to despair of being a mother. Adahy too was distressed. He knew that Hiawasee desperately longed for a child. As Medicine Man he had used every bit of knowledge and lore at his command to make his wife's pregnancies easier and to make her strong enough to carry the babies. When her beautiful son was born it seemed to bring Hiawasee even closer to her husband as they shared the joy of a new life in their home.

The one sadness in Hiawasee's heart was that she was never able to bring another child into the world. She longed for a daughter who would inherit her house and property. She wanted a large family like the other women of her village. It was not to be, however, and she lavished all her love on her only son. Hiawasee kept a small garden at the back of her house and spent her time farming, working in the village fields, weaving baskets, making clothes for her family and caring for her son.

Living in a matrilineal society meant that Dustu would never inherit his mother's house but rather, when the time came for him to marry, he would move into the house belonging to his wife. That house would be shared with multiple generations of the woman's family. Her mother, perhaps her grandmother, and certainly her sisters would live with her. If things didn't go well, he would simply leave and move back into Hiawasee's house until such time as he might take another wife.

***

Except for the nagging fear of what would happen to him once he got back home, life in the village was good for Jim. It was a great adventure and he had made a great many new friends. He and Dustu were near the same age and grew closer day by day. Every morning the two of them went out with some of the men of the village to cut trees. Yansa, whose name means Buffalo, explained to Jim that the trees were being cleared for a new planting ground. After the trees were cut and the stumps dug out the women would come and dig the dark, soft, rich earth and plant corn, beans, squash, pumpkins and tobacco. It was hard work and hot, but Jim was determined not to do less work than Dustu did. After all, it wasn't that much different than the chores his own father had given the boys so many times. He had the idea that if they did the job well that when he got back to the other side there would be less work there. He wasn't entirely sure that what happened here had an effect on the other side, but it would be interesting to see if it did.

The trees they cut were stripped of their branches, which were used as firewood, and the trunks were taken to the pole fence that surrounded the village to make any necessary repairs. A great many of the fence poles had begun to rot and Jim and Dustu replaced them as Yansa had shown them. The portions of the poles that had not rotted were taken into the village to use as firewood.

Frequently the two of them would dash off to the creek that ran near the village for an afternoon of swimming and frolicking in the water. The water in the creek was quite cold as it flowed from a spring that bubbled up on the surface. After some time, Jim realized that this very spring was the one from which they got water on the other side. It wasn’t deep enough to swim and bathe in on the other side of the portal. Over the years the creek had filled in and it was little more than a babbling brook of spring overflow thickly filled with crisp, spicy watercress. Many times, Jim and his father went to the spring and ate great handfuls of cress as they hunkered beside the water.

He looked at the spot where his home would eventually stand. The terrain was virtually the same but where his house would be was a large garden with tall, green cornstalks swaying in the wind. At one side of the garden stood a fairly large oak tree. From the looks of it, it must have been more than 100 years old. Standing majestically side by side at the end of the garden nearest the spring were two more oaks with their gnarled branches reaching far into the sky. They appeared to be even older than the other one. Jim told Dustu stories about him and his brothers climbing and playing in these very same trees that are much, much larger on his side. He pointed to one particular branch that grew nearly parallel to the ground. "On my side that limb is bigger than a man’s waist and it has little green ferns no longer than your finger growing in the bark. We climb up on that limb and play games. I once fell to the ground from that limb and thought I'd broken my neck!" Dustu looked at him with some doubt in his eyes. "That's not much of a fall; it's no higher than a man's head!" "Yes, well," Jim retorted "on my side it's higher than two men!"

Growing next to the creek was a cedar tree that was nearly ten feet tall. "Do you see that cedar tree beside the creek?" Jim asked, pointing "on my side it's about ten times taller than this!" "These trees must be nearly 500 years old on my side!" Dustu grew quiet and pensive. Jim asked him "What's wrong, Dustu? Why did your mood change so suddenly?" The Cherokee boy's eyes seemed to look right through him as he quietly said "I wish I could see the other side; to see what will happen to our lands and how my village will grow and change." "Already you have told me that your house stands in this place where we grow our food. What else is changed in your time?" Suddenly, Jim realized that every bit of information he gave his new friend spelled disaster to him and his way of life.

Until this moment, it had never occurred to Jim that his future life meant that the life of the Cherokee must be radically altered or perhaps even destroyed. He moved his eyes from Dustu's sad face to survey the village. As Dustu had already pointed out, the garden would be occupied by his own house. He looked a bit further to where his grandparent's house, barns, pastures, pig pens and fields would be. He could see at least ten Cherokee houses there. The fields where his grandfather grew corn and cotton were homes for at least fifty families. He knew that across the woods from where he now stood was Seamus McCarley's little farm. He also knew that on the other side Seamus' house was derelict and near the point of collapsing in on itself. Its only role was a place for him and his brothers to play.

As he looked about himself and pictured what it would look like in the future, he began to share Dustu's sadness. The area he and Dustu had been working the past few days with Yansa to clear the trees for new gardens would become his grandfather's corn field. He wondered what would happen to the people who are living here right now. Did they sell their lands to the white people or were they forced off it? Because he knew the history of the area, he suspected he knew the answer to that question easily enough. He felt a rage begin to build inside, but toward whom should it be directed? Hell-fire and damnation, he was just a boy, what could he do about it? By the time he will be born everything will have changed for the Cherokee people he had come to respect and love. Knowing there was nothing he could do to prevent the destruction did little to soothe him and further frustrated his rage.

From his own history lessons at Roy Webb School, Jim knew about the Trail of Tears. He spent a very long night wrestling with himself over whether to tell Dustu about it. Would it help the villagers to know what was coming in the future or would it destroy their lives? On the one hand if he told them what he knew, they could prepare themselves and perhaps somehow avoid being forcibly removed from their lands. On the other hand, if there was nothing they could do to prevent being forced to walk halfway across the country and made to live on strange land, what benefit would knowledge of the future bring? As the sun climbed above the trees, lighting the mists that hung over the low places he made his decision. He desperately hoped it was the right one.

***

Jim had become accustomed to the breakfasts of cornbread and beans and looked forward to each morning’s meal. This morning though, his appetite seemed as elusive as last night’s sleep. He had spent a long, lonely night weighing the pros and cons of telling Dustu and his village about the future. He knew that he could possibly be making huge changes in the way the future would unfold. He also considered the possibility that the world to which he would return once the portal reopened would be drastically different from the one he had left behind. Despite those concerns, his respect for these people wouldn't allow him to keep the knowledge to himself if there was a way to save them from the horrible fate that awaited them in just a few short years.

Dustu was quick to pick up on Jim's preoccupation and quiet, short answers as they ate breakfast. He exchanged glances with his father as they both wondered what had happened to the normally bright, laughing boy. Adahy surmised the boy was just missing his own home and family and dismissed it. Dustu though wasn't as quick to assign the reason. He purposed to get him outside as quickly as possible and get to the bottom of it. He was taken by surprise when suddenly Jim said "Ready to get outside?" Both leapt to their feet and called out their thanks to Hiawasee for the breakfast as they broke through the door into the damp, misty morning air.

"You have been very quiet since we awakened Jim, and I know you spent a restless night. What is in your mind?" demanded Dustu.

"You're right, it was a long, long night. I had a lot to think about and a huge decision to make, but I've made it now." Jim replied. His grave face and serious tone instantly made Dustu apprehensive.

"Have you discovered something about the portal?" Jim waved the suggestion aside.

"Let's get somewhere away from everyone so no one can hear what we’re talking about." With that Jim started walking toward the creek

where they swam and bathed. It had quickly become their favorite place to get away from everyone.

The boys sat cross-legged under the big cedar tree that Jim would one day, many years from now, consider his special place for escaping from his mother and brothers. From time to time, he just had to have some time with his thoughts. In a house as full as theirs, privacy was a rare luxury that was hard to come by. The branches hung low, almost to the ground, making it a kind of sanctuary away from everything and everyone.

"Dustu, I want to tell you about some things I learned in school." His friend slapped his hand to his forehead and said through a wide grin,

"Noooo, I don't want to go to the white man's school!"

"Wait, Dustu! What I want to tell you is about you and your people! It's something that will happen and I don't know if we should tell the old ones. You have to help me decide!"

The passion in Jim's voice and the tears welling in his eyes stopped Dustu's joking dead. He took Jim's hand into his own and looked deeply into his eyes. "Tell me what is troubling you. If we can't decide what to do we will ask my father. He is the wisest man in the village and he always knows what should be done."

"Alright, I don't know what the year is now, but I know that soon, maybe very soon, things will change for the Cherokee people. I learned about it in my history classes at school and my grandmother told me about it many times. It has to do with your people not being allowed to stay on your own lands."

Dustu was silent for a few seconds, staring back at Jim, unsure how to respond. At last, he managed to get his wits under control. "I think we need to go to my father now. You must tell him everything you know; and just so you know, the year is 1828 by the white man's calendar."

As they made their way back to Dustu's house, Jim looked around himself imagining again how the place looked in his own time. Once again, he was gripped by fear and apprehension. Was he doing the right thing? Did he have the right to decide the fates of thousands, no millions of people? The lives of people who hadn't even been born would be affected by what he was contemplating. He felt completely overwhelmed by the responsibility he was reaching for. By the time they reached the new planting area he was firm in his commitment. Perhaps he didn't have the right to make such a decision, but at the same time the rulers of this new country didn't have the right to take land and homes from people who had lived in them for thousands of years. He had been taught from the cradle that stealing was a sin. What was this, if not stealing? Is it right to go into a man's house and tell him that he no longer owns it because you want it for someone else to live in? Is it right that the fields he toiled to clear and cultivate should be taken by foreigners to raise food for their foreign offspring? The young boy felt the burden of responsibility settle on his small shoulders and resolved to tell Adahy everything he could remember from his history classes as well as from his great-grandmother, and most importantly to never regret his decision.

Adahy looked up to see the two boys enter his house. He had sensed, rightly, that Jim was carrying a weight that might be too large for a boy so young. He felt a strong compassion for the boy; he had a good heart but his youth and lack of experience made it difficult for him to make decisions. He prayed to the spirits for guidance to help the boy and lead him in the right way.

"Sit down, boys. Jim, would you like to tell me what troubles your spirit?"

Jim's head whipped up in shock. He hadn't any idea the old man had given him any special attention to allow him to pick up on his troubled mind.

"Yes sir. Dustu and I decided it would be best to come and talk to you about your village and your people." Adahy's silence encouraged him to go on.

"I learned something in my history classes that has a big effect on you and your village. I wasn't sure I should tell you about it because it might change everything in the future. When I get back through the portal I may not even have a home or a family to go back to."

He fell silent for a few seconds. Adahy looked at Dustu to see whether his son knew what Jim was talking about. It was clear from his expression that he knew little more than his father.

"After Dustu and I walked down to the creek this morning I finally decided that even if people on my side of the portal think I don't have the right to give you this information, my heart tells me I don't have the right to keep it from you. I'm pretty good in history, it's my favorite subject, so I should be able to remember most of it. Enough of it at least that you will know what's about to happen. Maybe you can do something to keep it from happening if you know ahead of time about it.

“Dustu told me that we are in the year 1828. In 1838 your people are going to be forced to leave your lands and move to the Indian Territory. In my time we call it Oklahoma. It's a long way from here on the other side of the Mississippi River. The Indians will call it the Trail of Tears and more than 4,000 Cherokee will die walking on that trail! The government will take your lands here and give you lands out there.

My Pawpaw's mother escaped the trail of tears by claiming to be "Black Dutch". That's why my family are still here on this land. If she hadn't told them that, my family would be living in Oklahoma! But of course, they will begin working toward getting everything ready to make you move in the next year.”

Adahy stared for long moments at Jim.

At last, he said "We have always known that the white man wants more and more of our lands. They have done their best to kill us or force us onto their reservations and take what is ours. We have hoped we would at last be able to live together in peace. I see now, that is not to be. Tell me more of what you know."

"There is a place in Georgia called Dahlonega”, said Jim. “They have… no, they will discover gold there. Maybe if the Cherokee can discover it and hide its location before the white men find it you can keep them from trying to take it. They will want to take the land so they can have the gold."

"The Cherokee will not agree to leave to go west so President Van Buren will send an army of 7,000 men to force you to move. They will put you in camps in Tennessee and then make you walk to Oklahoma and have a lottery to give away your lands to the white people. They will burn your homes and destroy everything you have built and made here."

"What happens to our lands after we have been forced to leave?" asked Dustu.

He was shocked by Jim's words and couldn't imagine that even the white man could do such a thing.

"Well, for this place a town will grow about five miles from here. They will call it Piedmont. It will be a small town that doesn't amount to much I reckon, but that's where some of them will live. They will also make a few other towns around here, most of them pretty small. I don't know who will take your village but eventually, in the twentieth century, it will be bought by my grandfather.

“My father and mother will live in a house over near the creek under those big oak trees. The new planting area Dustu and I have been helping to clear will be where my grandfather's house and barns and fields will be. He will grow cotton and corn and keep a cow and some pigs and a couple of horses. “The trail that runs beside the new planting area going to the other spring will become a road and just over yonder beyond the eastern pole fence will be another road that will lead to a bigger road that we call a highway. There will be nothing left that will show the Cherokee ever lived here.

“When my grandfather ploughs his fields, we will sometimes find arrowheads and bits of pottery. That's all that will be left of this village, just bits and pieces.

“Mr McCarley's house is still standing in my time, but no one has lived in it for many, many years and it's rotting down to the ground. Mr McCarley and his wife and baby will be buried in front of the house.

“My brothers and I play in the house sometimes. The white people make out like they are doing what's best for the Indians, but really they don't care about them, they just want the land and any gold they can find."

"If we could get word over to the village near Dahlonega about the gold and have the villagers find it and keep it secret from the white men it might make things a little bit easier. But, if they ever find out about it, it will mean all-out war for the gold.

“The hard part will be getting all the Cherokee to band together and fight against the army. The 7,000 men they will send are almost all of their army though, so you will outnumber them really a lot since your women are also warriors..." His voice trailed off, fearing he had said too much.

Adahy was completely silent throughout Jim's presentation of future events affecting his family and tribe. He sat for a long while staring deeply into the fire, as he digested the boy's words. Neither Dustu nor Jim dared to break the silence.

At last, he stood. “The spirits have destined you to come to us, Jim. You have done the right thing to tell me all you know. You boys come with me. We must talk with Tooantuh and decide what is to be done with this new knowledge.” With that, he strode out of the house into the warm, bright morning sun. The boys leapt to their feet to follow him. Dustu looked at his new friend with admiration and Jim, himself felt proud of what he was doing for his new friends. At the same time, he worried again about what he would find once he passed through the portal again. Suddenly, he remembered that he wasn't in this alone. His two brothers, his entire family would be affected by what he had done today.

***

Tooantuh was lying on his bed made of deerskin and blankets his wife had made. He was very surprised to see Adahy striding with in his door with such resolve, the two boys in tow.

"Adahy, good morning to you. What brings you into my house with such determination this morning?"

"Good morning to you Tooantuh. I have strange news for you brought to me by my house guest; news that will have strong effects on our village, even on our entire tribe!"

Upon hearing that announcement, Tooantuh sat up and said "What news have you brought us young friend?"

Jim was overawed by the presence of the Chief and stammered over his words. He was so intimidated he could barely form a complete sentence. Adahy took pity on him.

"I will tell what he has brought to me and together our village must decide what is to be done."

"To be done?" queried the Chief, "To be done about what? Tell me, now!"

Adahy gave the Chief an almost word for word recitation of all the information Jim had given him just a short time before. Jim was astonished at the way the Medicine Man was able to repeat almost every word he had said. When he was finished, he and Tooantuh stared at each other over the fire, deep in thought for quite a long time. After considering all that Adahy had told him, the Chief stood.

"We must talk about this in council. Let us gather this evening after the supper meal and bring it to the village."

****

The crowd fell silent as Tooantuh rose to speak. Nearly the entire village had crowded into the largish council house. Neither the Chief nor Adahy had told anyone what to expect at the council. Other than the boys not one person had any idea what the meeting was about. What they did know was that for the Chief to insist that everyone in the village who was able to attend, it must be something big.

His old face, deeply creased by the years was somber as he looked out over the people who were his family and friends, and most of all, his responsibility. He briefly considered again the many atrocities committed against his people by the European settlers. He drew himself to his full height and addressed his people.

"We are a proud and peaceful people. Our mothers and our mother’s mothers have lived on these lands since they were given to us in the beginning of time. We have faced many problems in those years. Dry growing seasons, crop failures, big snows and long winters. But every trial has made us stronger and more willing to live in harmony with the land. “Now, we are faced with a problem that does not go away, but continues to grow. The European settlers are never satisfied. Their hunger for land cannot be satisfied. Since their first arrival they have taken our lands and homes by force and superior weapons, destroyed our hunting grounds, and murdered our people. Year after year they encroach on lands that have for generations supported untold thousands of Cherokees with their bounty.

“Each year it becomes more and more difficult to feed our families because the fish in the streams and rivers and the animals of the forest are being destroyed by the ever-growing number of foreign arrivals. They come by the hundreds, and all are hungry for land, land that was not theirs for the taking. Land they felt justified to murder in order to take.

“Every tribe of Native has fought them. Many battles were won, but sadly more were lost and as a result more land was lost and the numbers of the Indians are dwindling day by day.

"Everyone in the village knows of the arrival of the white boy through the portal. We have taken him in and treated him as family. In return he has worked alongside us and made this his home. When the leaves change their colors and the portal opens again, he will probably go back to his own people. He has made a lasting mark on our lives and stories about him will be told around our fires for many years.

"The red-haired boy, Jim, brought news to me today. We are about to face actions from the white man even stronger than we have faced at any time in the past. They intend to take us from our lands and move us to another place west of the Father of Waters, the Mississippi River, in a place called Oklahoma. He knows of their plans and will help us to avoid losing our last bits of land to them.

"We will send young men to all the other Cherokee villages to warn them and gather all the tribe together to make war and defend our lands. Many of us will lose our lives in protecting our home, but those of us who die will know that future generations of the Cherokee honor us and our graves. They will keep our lands and our ways and tell the white man, ‘You have taken all from us you are going to take. No more!'".

A low murmur passed over the crowd like a freshening breeze as friend looked at friend and brother at brother in shock. Did they dare to hope they could stand up to the white man and win?

****