--WebTV-Mail-31062-1423 Content-Type: Text/Plain; Charset=US-ASCII Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7Bit This is the first part SHADOW BEAR --WebTV-Mail-31062-1423 Content-Disposition: Inline Content-Type: Message/RFC822 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7Bit X-WebTV-Signature: 1 ETAtAhUAwvwPXbaMlCLdvelA81xT/m1rsSoCFClvPxXPmArj2N0kWS15SDJX0KU7 From: shadowbear270@webtv.net (shadowbear270) Date: Thu, 23 Feb 2006 19:39:41 -0600 To: CHEROKEE-L@rootsweb.com Subject: Road to N.C. Message-ID: <74-43FE63DD-2985@storefull-3236.bay.webtv.net> Content-Disposition: Inline Content-Type: Text/Plain; Charset=US-ASCII Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7Bit MIME-Version: 1.0 (WebTV) I think I told you about the first time I saw a steam engine==this day we started from that place to go to N.C. that place was Mountain Grove,mo. got a seat on the train in a box car this was 1924 we could not sit with white people==I didn't know just how big this country is==this train went to the river then went north just north of Memphis we got a flat bottom river boat to get across the Miss.river=I was already getting some sore legs ==we ate real good good SHADOW BEAR --WebTV-Mail-31062-1423--

In a message dated 2/23/2006 7:03:41 P.M. Central Standard Time, shadowbear270@webtv.net writes: I started talking about eating at a Amish restaurant== boy that was good eating ==they had stuff at their home for sale we didn't go ==nice and warm today maybe should have gone fishing I just run out of time maybe tomorrow SHADOW BEAR Shadow bear, My neighbors are Mennonite so I know what you mean about good food. My neighbors have a processing plant.

That last post got away from me==we ate real good off the land ==we had alot of dried meat with us and corn we tried to stay away from towns remember indians were not welcome we got across the Ohio river ==got a train east of Memphis (I think I could not walk another step that was a long train I think it went thru most of Tenn.We sure knew how to walk ==anyway we were learning==any way we got to N.C.talking about hills ==as wore out as We were here come more hills==sure was pretty we had to get my name ona gov. list this is where my fathers family is (second part) SHADOW BEAR

I think I told you about the first time I saw a steam engine==this day we started from that place to go to N.C. that place was Mountain Grove,mo. got a seat on the train in a box car this was 1924 we could not sit with white people==I didn't know just how big this country is==this train went to the river then went north just north of Memphis we got a flat bottom river boat to get across the Miss.river=I was already getting some sore legs ==we ate real good good SHADOW BEAR

In a message dated 2/23/2006 5:58:47 P.M. Central Standard Time, shadowbear270@webtv.net writes: Don't know how warm it got today==I sure could stand more of it SHADOW BEAR It is 54 here right now but supposed to get cold again this weekend.

WHEEEEE ShadowBear--what kind of fertalizer do you use. I need some of it. WES-Norma

I started talking about eating at a Amish restaurant== boy that was good eating ==they had stuff at their home for sale we didn't go ==nice and warm today maybe should have gone fishing I just run out of time maybe tomorrow SHADOW BEAR

In a message dated 2/23/2006 5:52:40 P.M. Central Standard Time, shadowbear270@webtv.net writes: Well today I scrubed a some flats ==planted some==tomorrow I guess I will start picking tomatoes or watermelon=====oh- yah======= Well I hope you share since we wont have enough rain for them to grow. The wheat fields around use sure look bad.

I wish it was that warm out. It only got up to 44 yesterday. Don't know what it is now. 47 degrees (Cool) at 6:16 pm in Idaho. That's cool. That would explain how come the geese's water pool were thawing out ;) Alli > It is 54 here right now but supposed to get cold again this weekend. > > > ==== CHEROKEE Mailing List ==== > <<>OPEN forum to all Cherokee topics - except Genealogy<>> > <>Culture-History-Language-Folk lore and Truths<> > Good Manners & Language is required to be on the list > ALL the links you will need to sub and unsub or contact listowner below > http://lists.rootsweb.com/index/other/Ethnic-Native/CHEROKEE.html > > ============================== > Find your ancestors in the Birth, Marriage and Death Records. > New content added every business day. Learn more: > http://www.ancestry.com/s13964/rd.ashx >

After three days of misty rain, I went out to the rain gauge to see if any moisture had settled in there - just a trace. With all those heavy clouds passing overhead, I thougtht surely a little more than that got squeezed out of them. Nah, they went somewhere else to do their thing. Bettye in Ft. Worth ----- Original Message ----- From: "shadowbear270" <shadowbear270@webtv.net> To: <CHEROKEE-L@rootsweb.com> Sent: Thursday, February 23, 2006 5:58 PM Subject: [Cherokee Circle] Seed Flats > Don't know how warm it got today==I sure could stand more of it > > SHADOW BEAR > > > ==== CHEROKEE Mailing List ==== > <<>OPEN forum to all Cherokee topics - except Genealogy<>> > <>Culture-History-Language-Folk lore and Truths<> > Good Manners & Language is required to be on the list > ALL the links you will need to sub and unsub or contact listowner below > http://lists.rootsweb.com/index/other/Ethnic-Native/CHEROKEE.html > > ============================== > Find your ancestors in the Birth, Marriage and Death Records. > New content added every business day. Learn more: > http://www.ancestry.com/s13964/rd.ashx > >

Don't know how warm it got today==I sure could stand more of it SHADOW BEAR

Well today I scrubed a some flats ==planted some==tomorrow I guess I will start picking tomatos or watermellon=====oh- yah======= SHADOW BEAR

44 is ok. any thing above freezing and not drenched. You can cover them with something at night. Dan M www.wvi.com/~wb http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Genealogy_Chat ----- Original Message ----- From: "Alli" <iamcheroke@filertel.com> To: <CHEROKEE-L@rootsweb.com> Sent: Thursday, February 23, 2006 5:17 PM Subject: Re: [Cherokee Circle] Seed Flats > I wish it was that warm out. It only got up to 44 yesterday. > > Don't know what it is now. > 47 degrees (Cool) at 6:16 pm in Idaho. That's cool. That would explain how > come the geese's water pool were thawing out ;) > > Alli > > It is 54 here right now but supposed to get cold again this weekend. > >

Ya know this ! I like all types of people, all types of food and have lots of friends I like. But dog gonit some one said I have to love my enemy and shucks ( there outa be a law ) <G> Some people can sure cook, some times enemy or not, its plain tempting to share a napkin at their table. Now I aint to great on what different people care about, so while I was in Korea,I learned a thing about respect , there are good people out there, lots of them - sometimes creed dont matter but when you fall through the cracks and get abused then ( it does) and lots of creeds are getting it. There is an Amish lady as a cashier out here, they heard some one needed help and was right up to making plans to help out. I never have had a dinner napkin on with Amish yet. Dan M ----- Original Message ----- From: <BAPARHAM@aol.com> To: <CHEROKEE-L@rootsweb.com> Sent: Thursday, February 23, 2006 5:06 PM Subject: Re: [Cherokee Circle] Amish > > Shadow bear, > My neighbors are Mennonite so I know what you mean about good food. > My neighbors have a processing plant. >

I want some of that stuff too! Virginia in Seattle ----- Original Message ----- From: "White Eagle Spirit ---Norma" <NORMADREW@webtv.net> To: <CHEROKEE-L@rootsweb.com> Sent: Thursday, February 23, 2006 4:08 PM Subject: Re: [Cherokee Circle] Seed Flats > WHEEEEE ShadowBear--what kind of fertalizer do you use. I need some of > it. > WES-Norma >

Ghost Stallion - Cree "This is a tale the old men tell around the tepee fire, when the stars are blown clean on a windy night, and the coyotes are howling on the Cree Jump. And when, sometimes, over the wind, comes clearly the sound of running horses, their hearers move a little closer to one another and pile more wood on the fire." This is a story from a long time ago, say the Old Ones. What the man's name was, no one knows now, and so they call him "The Traveler". Long ago, The Traveler was a wealthy chief. A warrior in his young days, he had taken many scalps, many horses, many another trophy of value. And he had increased his possessions by hard dealings with those less fortunate, and by gambling with younger men who were no match for his cunning. He was not loved by his fellow tribesmen -- though they admired his bravery -- for in times of hardship, when other chiefs shared freely whatever they had, he drove hard bargains, and generally prospered from the ills of others. His wives he had abused till their parents took them away, his children hated him, and he had no love for them. There was only one thing he cared for -- his horses. They were fine horses, beautiful horses, for he kept only the best; and when a young warrior returned from a raid with a particularly good horse, The Traveler never rested until (whether by fair means or not) he had it in his possession. At night, when the dance drum was brought out, and the other Indians gathered round it, The Traveler went alone to the place where his horses were picketed, to gloat over his treasures. He loved them. But he loved only the ones that were young, and handsome, and healthy a horse that was old, or sick, or injured, received only abuse. One morning, when he went to the little valley in which his horses were kept, he found in the herd an ugly white stallion. He was old, with crooked legs, and a matted coat, thin, and tired looking. The Traveler flew into a rage. He took his rawhide rope, and caught the poor old horse. Then, with a club, he beat him unmercifully. When the animal fell to the ground, stunned, The Traveler broke his legs with the club, and left him to die. He returned to his lodge, feeling not the slightest remorse for his cruelty. Later, deciding he might as well have the hide of the old horse, he returned to the place where he had left him. But, to his surprise, the white stallion was gone. That night, as The Traveler slept, he had a dream. The white stallion appeared to him, and slowly turned into a beautiful horse, shining white, with long mane and tail - a horse more lovely than any The Traveler had ever seen. Then the Stallion spoke: "If you had treated me kindly," the stallion said, "I would have brought you more horses. You were cruel to me, so I shall take away the horses you have!" When The Traveler awoke, he found his horses were gone. All that day, he walked and searched, but when at nightfall he fell asleep exhausted, he had found no trace of them. In his dreams, the White Stallion came again, and said, "Do you wish to find your horses? They are north, by a lake. You will sleep twice, before you come to it." As soon as he awakened in the morning, The Traveler hastened northward. Two days' journey, and when he came to the lake there were no horses. That night, the Ghost Stallion came again. "Do you wish to find your horses?" he said. "They are east, in some hills. There will be two sleeps before you came to the place.' When the sun had gone down on the third day, The Traveler had searched the hills, but had found no horses. And so it went night after night the Stallion came to The Traveler, directing him to some distant spot, but he never found his horses. He grew thin, and foot sore. Sometimes he got a horse from some friendly camp, sometimes he stole one, in the night. But always, before morning, would come a loud drumming of hoofs, the Ghost Stallion and his band would gallop by, and the horse of The Traveler would break its picket, and go with them. And never again did he have a horse; never again did he see his own lodge. And he wanders, even to this day, the old men say, still searching for his lost horses. Sometimes, they say, on a windy autumn night when the stars shine very clearly, and over on the Cree Jump the coyotes howl, above the wind you may hear a rush of running horses, and the stumbling footsteps of an old man. And, if you are very unlucky, you may see the Stallion and his band--and The Traveller, still pursuing them, still trying to get back his beautiful horses. From Blue Panther Keeper of Stories.

Hello, I am new to the list. My question is about the "Trail of Tears".   I read that it took place during the spring and summer of 1838. Did the Indians only follow the trail that year or did they continue to leave Georgia and places in the south and travel over it for years to come? I read the following piece that was posted on the internet from SMITHVILLE REVIEW, Smithville, Tennessee, September 8, 1927. It said and I quote from the paper: "Immediately following the Civil War the last of the Cherokee's who had lingered in Georgia were removed to Indian Territory. Bands of these on the way to the West passed through Smithville. They were in no hurry, strolling along in little groups, stopping in the towns and giving demonstrations of their fine marksmanship with the bow. On the square at Smithville they stepped off a number of paces, then producing a sour-wood switch the end was split and the challenge given for some one to put a dime or other coin in the split and this set up edge-wise would be shot out with the arrow, the coin going to the marksman. They did this numerous times to the great wonderment of the boys, and numerous others of that age, to say nothing of the slightly younger fellow s who joined in the craze. . . HYPERLINK "http://www.tngenweb.org/dekalb/dekarm12.htm"http://www.tngenweb.org/dekalb/ dekarm12.htm If any one knows I would like to find out the latest that the Native Americans might have followed the trail. My ancestors have a story that includes the finding of a 10 year old Cherokee girl between 1890-1894. I thought this was a "mis-remembrance" until I read the article in the SMITHVILLE REVIEW. Now I am not so sure. Thanks for any help. Trish Swallows Carden Nashville, Tennessee Trish@tcarden.com HYPERLINK "http://www.tcarden.com/tree/ensor/" \nhttp://www.tcarden.com/tree/ensor/                  [] ____    ¸...¸    __/ ____ \ ,·´º o`·,/__/ _/\_ //____/\ ```)¨(´|´ | |  | | | | | || |l±±±± ¸,.-·~°´ ¸,.-·~·~·-.,¸ `°~·-. :º° As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord. Soli Deo Gloria   -- No virus found in this outgoing message. Checked by AVG Free Edition. Version: 7.1.375 / Virus Database: 267.15.12/266 - Release Date: 2/21/2006

Ghost of the White Deer - Chickasaw A story of the Chickasaw People of Oklahoma A brave, young warrior of the Chickasaw Nation fell in love with the daughter of a chief. The chief did not like the young man, who was called Blue Jay. So the chief invented a price for the bride that he was sure that Blue Jay could not pay. "Bring me the hide of the white deer," said the chief. The Chickasaws believed that animals that were all-white were magical. "The price for my daughter is one white deer." Then the chief laughed. The chief knew that an all-white deer, an albino, was very rare and would be very hard to find. White deerskin was the best material to use in a wedding dress, and the best white deer skin came from the albino deer. Blue Jay went to his beloved, whose name was Bright Moon. "I will return with your bride price in one moon, and we will be married. This I promise you." Taking his best bow and his sharpest arrows, Blue Jay began to hunt. Three weeks went by, and Blue Jay was often hungry, lonely, and scratched by briars. Then, one night during a full moon, Blue Jay saw a white deer that seemed to drift through the moonlight. When the deer was very close to where Blue Jay hid, he shot his sharpest arrow. The arrow sank deep into the deer's heart. But instead of sinking to his knees to die, the deer began to run. And instead of running away, the deer began to run toward Blue Jay, his red eyes glowing, his horns sharp and menacing. A month passed and Blue Jay did not return as he had promised Bright Moon. As the months dragged by, the tribe decided that he would never return. But Bright Moon never took any other young man as a husband, for she had a secret. When the moon was shining as brightly as her name. Bright Moon would often see the white deer in the smoke of the campfire, running, with an arrow in his heart. She lived hoping the deer would finally fall, and Blue Jay would return. To this day the white deer is sacred to the Chickasaw People, and the white deerskin is still the favorite material for the wedding dress. From Blue Panther Keeper of Stories.

Anyone: I have been looking at the 1835 roll or census record of the Cherokees today and found some startling information. Catherine Gann is listed, several in family, all are listed as Quadroons. I looked it up and the dictionary says they were 1/4 black. Has anyone found this before? I checked Daniel McCoy family and they are also listed as Dragoons. On Stand Watie, he is listed with only to people, him and wife. One is full blood and one dragoon. I know from searching records that he was married to a Miller at that time. Can anyone explain any of these? Thanks Donna

Ghost Dance By the 1880's the U.S. government had managed to confine almost all of the Indians on reservations, usually on land so poor that the white man could conceive of no use for it themselves. The rations and supplies that had been guaranteed them by the treaties were of poor quality, if they arrived at all. Graft and corruption were rampant in the Indian Bureau. In an attempt to stem this problem, a move was made to recruit Quakers to take the positions as Indian agents, however not nearly enough Quakers responded to the call for volunteers. This call, however, opened the door to other denominations setting up shop on the reservations. An attempt was made to convert the Indians to Christianity with mixed results. However, by 1890 conditions were so bad on the reservations, nationwide, with starvation conditions existing in many places, that the situation was ripe for a major movement to rise among the Indians. This movement found its origin in a Paiute Indian named Wovoka, who announced that he was the messiah come to earth to prepare the Indians for their salvation. Representatives from tribes all over the nation came to Nevada to meet with Wovoka and learn to dance the Ghost Dance and to sing Ghost Dance songs. In early October of 1890, Kicking Bear, a Minneconjou, visited Sitting Bull at Standing Rock. He told him of the visit he and his brother-in-law, Short Bull, had made to Nevada to visit Wovoka. They told him of the great number of other Indians who were there as well. They referred to Wovoka as the Christ and told of the Ghost Dance that they had learned and the way that the Christ had flown over them on their horseback ride back to the railroad tracks, teaching them Ghost Dance songs. And they told him of the prophecy that, next spring, when the grass was high, the earth would be covered with new soil, burying all the white men. The new soil would be covered with sweet grass, running water and trees; the great herds of buffalo and wild horses would return. All Indians who danced the Ghost Dance would be taken up into the air and suspended there while the new earth was being laid down. Then they would be replaced there, with the ghosts of their ancestors, on the new earth. Only Indians would live there then. This new religion was being taught at all of the Sioux reservations now. Big Foot's band, which consisted mostly of women who had lost their husbands and/or other male relatives in battles with Custer, Miles and Crook, would dance until they collapsed, hoping to guarantee the return of their dead warriors. Sitting Bull greatly doubted that the dead would be brought back to life. He had no personal objections to people dancing the Ghost Dance; however he had heard that the agents were getting nervous about all of the dancing and were calling in the soldiers on some reservations. He did not want the soldiers to return to kill more of his people. Kicking Bear assured him that, if the dancers wore their Ghost Dance shirts, painted with magic symbols, the soldiers bullets would not strike them. Sitting Bull consented to Kicking Bear remaining at Standing Rock and teaching the Ghost Dance. This began a chain of events that lead to his death on December 15. As the number of people involved in the Ghost Dance movement increased, the panic and hysteria of the Indian agents increased with it. Agent McLaughlin had Kicking Bear removed from Standing Rock, but this did not stop the movement there. McLaughlin telegraphed Washington, asking for troops and blaming Sitting Bull as the power behind this "pernicious system of religion." The whites stumbled over each other in their attempts to quell this movement. Panicky messages about Indians dancing in the snow, wild and crazy, were sent to Washington. One voice of sanity, the former agent, Valentine McGillycuddy, recommended allowing the dances to continue. "The coming of the troops has frightened the Indians. If the Seventh-Day Adventists prepare the ascension robes for the Second Coming of the Savior, the United States Army is not put in motion to prevent them. Why should not the Indians have the same privilege? If the troops remain, trouble is sure to come" Nonetheless, on December 12, the order was received to arrest Sitting Bull. On December 15, 43 Indian police surrounded Sitting Bull's cabin before dawn. Three miles away they were backed up by a squadron of cavalry. When Lieutenant Bull Head entered the cabin, Sitting Bull was asleep. Upon awakening, he agreed to come with the police and asked that his horse be saddled while he dressed. When they left the cabin, a large group of Ghost Dancers, much larger than the police force, had assembled and challenged the police. One dancer, Catch-the-Bear, pulled out a rifle and shot Lieutenant Bull Head in the side. In an attempt to shoot back at his assailant, Bull Head instead accidentally shot Sitting Bull. Then another policeman, Red Tomahawk, shot Sitting Bull in the head. Many Indian policemen died that day before the cavalry arrived to quell the fighting. This event then precipitated the events that were to follow at Wounded Knee. "I was right", according to this explanation, which came from a Lakota site. From the archives Blue Panther Keeper of Stories.