The Adventures of Cherokee (14 page)

He stayed several days, enjoying the peace and solitude. But when he heard the turtle doves, he grew lonely for Sunee. Grandfather had taught him that when you hear the turtle dove, you know someone loves you. He decided to go visit with Sunee and his sons.

He started out that very evening, when the moon rose high in the sky to light his way. It wasn’t far and didn’t take long, so when he arrived, he stood on a jagged overlook and watched the mares from a distance. “When I looked down at the Sequatchie Valley in Tennessee, I knew it was the most beautiful place on earth. One where I could live happily forever,” he thought. “But here, in this place, with the mares and their young, I can think on this place as beautiful as well. Thank you, As
ga y a galun Lati,
for this wonderful world you have made for us. Help us to always know what it needs to protect and care for it as you would have us to do.”

The colts were awake early and Thunder was first to spot his father on the high peaks. “There’s Daddy!” he shouted. All the mares looked to see the tall, handsome stallion. He was a wonderful sight. His mane and tail flowed in the breeze. He held his head high, nostrils wide. His chocolate spots shone like copper. The only mar, if it could be considered such, was the scar on his right foreleg. It was three feathers of the raven, earned one at a time. According to legend the raven feather marks a change in life, a time of growth. And so, because these feathers were earned, they too, added to his beauty. He trotted down to meet his sons and Sunee, nickering a greeting to them. He rubbed noses with Sunee and looked at his sons with admiration. “You are growing,” he exclaimed.

“We are glad to see you, Daddy. Aren’t we?” said
Kangi ta.

“Yes,” agreed his brother. “Can we go for a walk with you?” he asked.

“Do you remember what I told you?” asked Sunee.

“Yes, but if we are with Daddy, we will be
ha wa,”
begged Thunder.

“Yes, you will be alright,” agreed their mother. “Cherokee, the boys have something to ask you and something to tell you on your walk today. Do not let them forget.”

Cherokee looked closely at his sons. They were so young. How could they have gotten into trouble at such an early age? “Come boys, let’s go walking.”

“Where we going, Daddy?” asked
Too hool
zoout.

“Where would you like to go?” asked Cherokee.

“Back where we were when we got lost,” said
Kangi ta.

“And why is that? Do you want to get lost again?”

“We can’t get lost if you are with us,”
Kangi ta
replied. “And that is where we saw all the animals and two leggeds,” he added.

“Two leggeds?” questioned Cherokee. “Where did you see two leggeds?”

“Well, “ said Thunder, we walked over two or three hills, going that way. When we stopped to rest, we heard a noise and went to see what it was.”

“You could have been hurt,” said their father.

“But we weren’t. We just looked from the top of the hill. They didn’t see us.”

“Let’s go that way and see if we can find them again,” suggested Cherokee. “Perhaps they are friendly.” So over the hills, and past the forest they went. Sometimes trotting, sometimes galloping. The colts kept up very well with Cherokee and he was proud of them. When he saw that they were getting tired, he said, “Let’s stop for a while. We can get a drink and perhaps eat some
nice green grass.”

Later in the afternoon, they started out once more, heading in a westerly direction. Cherokee began to pick up animal sounds and stopped to listen. He turned in each direction, south, east, west and north, sniffing the air, seeking signs of trouble or peace. When he was satisfied, he said, “Follow me boys, we will find the two leggeds now.”

“Daddy, we want to ask you something first,” said
Kangi ta.

“What is it?” asked Cherokee patiently.

“I can’t say
‘Too hool zoout’
very well and I want to know if I can call my brother Thunder instead.”

Cherokee thought for a while and said, “I think that will be
ha wa.
I have two names. My name is Cherokee, but when Grandfather went to live with his ancestors in the sky, he gave me his name-
Tsalagi.
They both mean the same thing.”

“Then I have two names, too,” said
Kangi ta.
“My name means Raven.”

“That’s right,” said their father. “From now

on I will call you Thunder and Raven.”

“No Daddy, I still want to be called
Kangi ta.
That’s a nice name,” said the colt.

“Thunder and
Kangi ta
it is,” agreed Cherokee, and off they went in search of the two leggeds and their animals.

Just as the sun was setting, the three horses looked down from the top of a hill and saw a great number of two leggeds, (people) their horses and camp fires.

“Let’s get closer,” whispered Thunder.

“Not just yet,” warned Cherokee. “We must be sure you won’t be hurt or captured.”

As Cherokee watched, he noticed that there was no laughter or talking or visiting among these people. The wagon train people and cowboys were always talking or laughing. He wondered why these people were so quiet. He felt that something must be wrong.

Suddenly he saw someone that looked familiar to him. There was an
a wi na,
limping closer to one of the campfires. “Do you see that young man down by the closest camp fire?” Cherokee asked his sons.

“I think so,” they said.

“I believe that is Tsa tsi, my o gi nai yi.”

“What is
o gi nai yi
?” asked Thunder.

“That means ‘old friend’. I will have to go closer, but if that is
Tsa tsi,
he is the one who took me home and took care of me after
nunne hi
pulled me out of the water.”

“Can we go see?” asked
Kangi ta
with excitement.

“Let me go first,” suggested Cherokee. “If all is well, I will bring him back to meet you.” And so saying he worked his way carefully down the hill, keeping to the shadows for cover.

Tsa tsi
and his mother
Wurteh,
were indeed among the Indians resting around their camp fires.
Tsa tsi,
now 12 years old, had been dragged from his home while eating his supper. The white man then burned their home so they could not return to it. His mother had put her arm around his shoulder and said, “We will make a new way in a new land,
Tsa tsi.
Do not be worried.” But he was.

Now, here they were in a strange place, being herded like cattle to a place where all Indians were supposed to live from now on. A place called Fort Gibson. The journey, they were told was about 800 miles and would take several months. When they began there were more than 1,000 men, women and children in their group. Now there were less than 600. Many of the old ones and sick ones died. Conditions were not good for any of them. Very little food and stale water was all they had to live on.

Wurteh
was talking quietly to her son. “I am glad we were allowed to visit the cemetery to tell our loved ones good bye before we left.”

“Yes,” agreed
Tsa tsi.
But he was thinking of something else. “Mother, why did the soldiers take some of us west to the new land and the others north and west?”

“I don’t know, son,” she replied, “But perhaps to keep us separated. There is strength in
numbers.”

“And Mother?” he asked. “What of our Sacred Fire? It is a bridge between us and The Great Spirit. The smoke from the fire takes our prayers up to him. I have not seen the fire since our journey started.”

“Dedicated men have always kept the Sacred fire burning bright. But it is not possible to keep a fire burning on such a long journey. These men are carrying Sacred Ashes from this fire. As long as the new fire is lit from these special ashes, the Great Spirit will hear and see what we want him to know,”
Wurteh
explained.

“May I go for a walk, Mother? I am very sad.”

“Of course, “ she answered. “This journey is truly a trail of tears for all of us. Don’t be gone long.”

So he kissed his mother on the cheek, and walked out into the night.

Cherokee watched as
Tsa tsi
left the small fire, limping into the fading light, alone. The young stallion stood still, waiting for the boy to get closer. As the boy walked, he started to whistle. Softly at first, then a little louder. He seemed to be gaining strength from his song.

Cherokee nickered softly.
Tsa tsi
stopped whistling and stood still. The horse nickered again and began walking toward his old friend. Once he had cleared the shadow of the trees,
Tsa tsi
saw him. He stood still and waited for the horse to come to him.

Cherokee first sniffed
Tsa tsi’s
hair.
Tsa tsi
looked toward the ground. When the stallion shoved him in the belly with his nose,
Tsa tsi
looked up and laughed. “I know you, horse! You are
o gi nai I,
my old friend, aren’t you?”

He walked around the horse and looked at his shoulder. “Yes, Mother and I made you well when you were hurt. Do you remember? Come with me and we will go see her. She will like to see what a beauty you have become. May I have a ride?”

Cherokee turned, lowered his head and dropped one shoulder.
Tsa tsi
put one bare foot on his shoulder, grabbed a handful of mane and pulled himself up on this wonderful old friend.

“Mother!” he called. “Mother! Look who I found!”

Wurteh
looked up from banking her fire and saw her son riding into camp on a beautiful pinto stallion. “Well, if I am right, he found you. Is this the young colt you rescued seven years ago? All grown up?”

“Yes, Mother.”

“What will you do with him this time?” she questioned with a smile.

“I hope he will stay with us on this long journey. I could ride him when my crippled leg gets tired. But I don’t know how to convince him that I need him.”
Wurteh
walked away shaking her head sadly.

Cherokee nudged
Tsa tsi
to get his attention.

“What do you want, boy?” Cherokee nudged him again.

“Alright, where do you want to go?”
Tsa tsi
again climbed on Cherokee’s back. The stallion quickly turned away from the Cherokee Indians and headed off toward the forest at a gallop.

“Where are we going?” asked
Tsa tsi.

Cherokee never slowed down. It wasn’t long until he stopped and wuffed softly. Two little black colts came out of the darkness. Their eyes were blinking slowly from sleep.

“Oh.” said
Tsa tsi.
“Are these your colts? They are beautiful. I was going to ask you to go with me. To help me travel west to our new home, where all the Indians have to go and live. My leg hurts so much sometimes, but I can’t ask you to leave your children.”

Cherokee began to walk again. The colts followed close beside him. “Now, where are we going?” asked
Tsa tsi.

The moon was brighter and the way was clear. Cherokee took his friend back to the herd of wild horses. “Sunee,” he called. “Come and meet a friend.”

Sunee looked up and saw a young man sitting on Cherokee and was frightened. “Do not be afraid,” said Cherokee. This
a wi na
is my old friend,
Tsa tsi.
He is not able to walk very well and I must help him now as he helped me so many years ago.”

“But you can’t leave us,” cried Sunee.

“He is going west, the same direction as my vision told me to go. You stay and care for the colts until they are grown. I will come back for you when I have completed this task,”

“Ha wa,
Cherokee. I will miss you. Do what you must, but don’t forget us.”

The colts were listening to this conversation and were excited. “Can we go, too, Daddy?”

“Not now,” answered Cherokee kindly. “I will take care of
Tsa tsi
first. He needs me now. I will come back and look after you. Look for me when spring comes again.” Cherokee, with
Tsa tsi
still on his back, turned and trotted quickly away from his family, not wanting to leave them, but knowing that he had a responsibility to fulfill. And a vision to complete.

BIBLIOGRAPHY
 

1. Cox, Maynard, Great-grandson of Chief Joseph of the Nez Perce Indians; verbal stories, names and general information

2. Chiltowsky, Mary Ulmer,
Cherokee Words With Pictures,
Cherokee, N.C., Library of Congress Catalog Number 72-76716

3. Mails, Thomas E.,
The Cherokee People,
Marlowe
& Company, 1996, 632 Broadway, Seventh Floor, New York, N.Y. 10012

4. Nitsch, Twylah, Grandmother;
Creature Teachers,
The Continuum Publlshing Company, 370 Lexington Ave., New York, New York

5. Roberts, Monte,
The Man Who Listens to Horses,
Random House, New York, N.Y. 1996/97

Other Books

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Gramma ‘Cilia

Cats in a Cradle

Grandfather
Vol I

Little Miracles

Memories

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