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ISBN 978-1-950034-98-7 (Hardback)
ISBN 978-1-952320-38-5 (Paperback)
ISBN 978-1-952320-37-8 (ebook)
Grandfather’s Journal
Copyright © 2020 by C.W. Hanes
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
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Yorkshire Publishing
4613 E. 91st St,
Tulsa, OK 74137
www.YorkshirePublishing.com
918.394.2665
Printed in the USA
In Search Of
When I was little, my Grandfather would take me for long walks along the Red River. As we walked along the trail by the river, Grandpa told me stories about when he was a little boy and stories that his Dad had passed down to him. While telling me about our ancestors, Grandpa told me he was almost full-blooded Cherokee (tsa-la-gi) and he said I was over half Cherokee.
This story begins when I was thirteen years old. Grandpa (Clarence James—his nickname was C.J.), was born on May 26, 1877. He was my father’s father. My father was born on March 4, 1916. His name was Clarence Lee. My name is Jacob Wayne and I was born on May 26th, 1956.
The legendary Spirit Cave was high upon a mountain top, overlooking Red River. No one knew which mountain it was located on except for three men, my Grandfather and two of his friends. The story that is told about this cave is that you could see up and down the river for miles from the cave, but you couldn’t see the cave from the river during any time of the year.
My Great-Grandfather and two of his friends found the cave in 1797. They each had a journal with maps and a piece of a flute that locked into place with the other two. When putting together, there wasn’t a seam that could be seen.
Starting with my thirteenth birthday, Grandpa gave me a clue every year on my birthday about where he had the journal hidden. I had to solve the clues that he gave me in order to find the journal. I also had to keep a journal of my own to keep up with all he shared with me. The items you see in parentheses most of the time show how it is spoken in the Cherokee language. For instance, “Hello” is pronounced “o-si-yo.”
So, come along with me and Grandfather on our journey to find his journal. Mysteries surround the mountain, with treasures that are hidden in the pit deep down inside the cave. I was told there were trunks of gold, silver, and other artifacts with a curse to keep them from being removed from the cave that was placed on them by the natives who placed them there to keep them from being removed from the cave. Let us search together and gather the clues to find the journal and the right words of the native language that will allow us to remove the curse so that the items from the cave can be removed! If we find the journal and follow the clues Grandfather gives us, we can unlock hidden treasures and perhaps even a hidden world long since forgotten by modern times.
CHAPTER ONE
Jacob’s First Five Clues
When I was a little boy, my Grandfather would take me for long walks along the Red River in the hills of the Ozarks. As we walked along the trail beside the river, Grandpa would tell me stories about when he was a little boy; stories that his Dad passed down to him. Grandpa was almost full-blood Cherokee (tsa-la-gi) and he said I was over half.
Grandpa and I had a favorite place where we would go to sit and watch the river’s dark waters roll by. It was a huge rock ledge that hung over the river. I guess it was between 100 and 140 feet above the river. It had stairs made of rock going down to the water to a lower ledge that was only a few inches above the waterline. You could see where the rock was worn down from boats and perhaps canoes; the Indians used this area more than a hundred years ago. I asked him, “Who built these rock stairs?” He looked at me and smiled. “Native Americans built those several hundred years ago.”
I asked Grandpa, “Why do we call this mountain on the river ‘Spirit Mountain?’”
He looked down and said, “Well, there have been stories passed down for generations about this mountain. Things have happened here that cannot be explained; people have seen visions of the past, or what some would call ‘spirits’ of our ancestors while walking through these woods. They’ve seen the spirits of Indians walking or hiding behind trees and rocks as they did hundreds of years ago.
“Do you remember, Jacob, where the creek runs into the river about 1,000 yards upriver from here? When you walk up the creek, if you look closely, you will see some of the rocks are displaced from their original locations. There is a path that crisscrosses back and forth across the creek, just wide enough for a small two-wheeled cart to be pulled over. The path goes from the creek all the way up to the top of the mountain. About three-fourths of the way up, you will find a round rock wheel, nine inches thick and about four feet in diameter, with a square hole, cut out in the middle of it. It’s the wheel off an Indian cart that is about three hundred years old. If you follow the path, you will come to a dead-end unless you know where to change course, and if you do, it will take you to a hidden place; a cave that is about two-thirds of the way up the mountain. This cave is protected by native spirits so that nothing found in the cave can be removed without serious consequences or repercussions to those trying to do so. This sacred place of our people is called ‘Spirit Cave.’
“When you stand at the mouth of Spirit Cave, you can watch up and down the river for miles. But the cave can’t be seen from any place on the river at any time of the year. The natives would watch the river for settlers as they traveled up and down the river. They would slip down to the ledge that we are sitting on and wait until the settlers got close. Sometimes they would attack them, taking their possessions. They would load everything on a cart and take it up to the cave. Other times, they would watch them float down the river through the rapids.
“Stories have been passed down about a pit inside the cave that leads to another cave entrance deep in the mountain. That is where they would store the items they stole from settlers. There is supposed to be gold, silver, weapons, Spanish helmets, breastplates, muskets, and other artifacts.
“Jacob, I have a journal that one day I will pass down to you. In my journal, I go into more detail about a lot of things that you’re not old enough to understand yet. I have the journal put away in a special place that only I know the location of; not even your grandmother knows where to find it. It would have gone to your father if he hadn’t passed away so early in life. So, when I die, it will be left to you and you must find it. You will have to prove yourself worthy before you will be ready to find it and it won’t be an easy task. I have placed maps and one-third of a flute with the journal and an explanation of how to use it. There are three parts to it, and it must be put together in the correct sequence for it to work without any evil consequences.
