Posted by
granny on Friday, March 07, 2008 4:27:13 PM
Hero's
She sat quietly in the corner sewing,not one man even acknowledged her presence,captured so long ago she could barely remember another way of living.
Carried here by pony,loaded just as another piece of trading material,learning to speak their words by listening,and yet never speaking to them.
From the Tsalagi women who came with their warriors bringing skins for barter,she learned to speak with them as well,from far away her People were.
The rolling grass lands where sacred buffalo dwell,she did not know her own age,perhaps twelve,cooking,cleaning,dumping slops,feeding the white mans stock.
These were her duties of the day,nights for her were only pain,forced into the blankets of the highest bidder,just lay there nothing from her was needed.
How many mornings did she wake,lips and eyes swollen shut,beatings and rapes beyond the counting,a life that was no longer worth the living.
For She Finds Birds,it was the way she wanted,to not be seen as human,the men who came spoke openly before her,in truth they looked right through her.
One day, she kept dreaming,she would be free to return to her People,a thousand ways she thought of killing these men who did not think her human.
Perhaps now her day drew near,these things they spoke of the Tsalagi should hear,the destruction of a village,more slaughter of innocents was planned.
The laughter low and mean,the schemes carefully laid,oh,the money they would be making on the bounty of the scalps they would be taking,none cared about the ages.
A sudden slap to her head,brought her back to her duties,blood running from her lip,sealed the fate of this man she hated,this night she would escape and take the message.
To the Tsalagi camp she crept,knowing capture would mean her death,whispered words to a woman who was praying by the water earned her,food,horse,and freedom.
This one time there was a different ending,as the whites came creeping with the dawning,their plans of bloody murder,were turned back upon them with a vengeance.
Seventeen dead and only one was red,caught in a trap of their own making the white men learned what came of drinking for courage,as they died there on lands of their claiming.
Quickly the small trading party,took the message and made their own plans,fires made and stuffed blankets,while they in the forest waited for their betrayers.
Moving swiftly they returned to warn the village,knowing there would be retribution,by the "Great White Fathers" who said his red children must learn to behave better.
It would not be seen as defending,but cold murder of defenseless traders,by the strange "laws" of these new peoples,the Tsalagi had no right to bring such slaughter.
And the young girl who brought warning,none knew but hoped she had returned to her own People,prayers of grateful thanks rose to protect her long ride home.
Soon they came,those blue leg soldiers,bringing the death that by now was expected,a few had moved from the village,southward to safety,but many were too old for all these changes.
They died there on their homelands by the thousands,standing proud and singing prayers,we will not forget these Hero's of our People,warriors all who died with honor!
granny