needless bloodshed. Within two years the Cherokee were completely crushed. Their towns were burned and crops destroyed. The Beloved People were starving.
“In the peace pact that followed, the Cherokee were forced to give up a large portion of their eastern homeland and move further west to what they called the Overhill country.”
William paused, before explaining. “During the War for Independence, some Cherokee fought alongside the British, while others fought with the Americans. It was a terrible time for all of us and triggered some strange circumstances.
“There were wrongs done by both sides. That’s why the peace treaty was sealed. The wise chiefs of the Five Civilized Tribes and our new American leaders want peace, but I’m afraid it will be a long time in coming. Some red men, and white, as well, will not move beyond the past.”
Clarinda sighed. “I wish they could make a real peace. I don’t like being fearful of Indians. Do you think they’ll bother us in Kentucky?”
“I don’t know, Sis. When I was there last, the Cherokee and Shawnee both claimed Kentucky and Tennessee as rightfully theirs, and to be honest I guess it should be. Because of the many battles fought over the land there the Cherokee named it The Dark and Bloody Ground.
“At Boonesborough we treated the Indians fair. Boone insisted on it. Trouble is most white settlers and fur traders don’t understand the Indian’s attitude about wildlife or the land. The Indian worships both. The bear can’t be killed without an apology and ceremony to explain to the animal his meat is needed to feed the tribe.
“The white man sees things much differently. One other thing, the Cherokee will not allow the death of a fellow tribesman or kinsman to go unavenged. An Indian raid has wiped out whole forts or settlements, because one white man killed an Indian, just because he was an Indian.”
William patted Clarinda’s dark curls. “That’s enough about Indians for one day. Don’t you trouble your pretty head about such things. Go on in the back of the wagon and help your sister with the baby.”
“I will, but I hope you can tell me more later. It does help me to understand better. I know Pa tried to treat the Indians right.” Clarinda disappeared inside the canvas opening where Rebecca was singing Ben to sleep.
I’m goin’ there to see my father;
I’m goin’ there, no more to roam.
I’m just a-goin’ over Jordan,
I’m just a-goin’ over home.
I know dark clouds will gather ‘round me.
My way is steep and rough, I know,
But fertile fields lie just before me
In that fair land to which I go.
William let his mind wander as he guided the team along the rough trail. He knew the tribes were gradually being forced to yield up more and more of their precious homeland as the settlers grew in number. Already the once powerful Six Nations Confederation had been broken. Tribes who once came to each other’s aid now fought among themselves. Some of the northeastern tribes had been driven to the Western Door, a name given to the Mississippi Valley region.
William understood the Indian’s hostility. He had witnessed the horrible depredations resulting from the Indian wars. He spoke Cherokee, and knew some of the principal chiefs in the nation. He believed they would honor their treaty. It was a sacred trust. They had signed the paper called “words that cannot be taken back.” The scattered uprisings were not of the principal chiefs’ making.
Still, no punishment was meted out to the renegade warriors. They were hailed as heroes upon returning to their villages. They were even granted a higher status in the tribal hierarchy. The men had a fondness for war. But that could be said of the white man as well. Yet, the Cherokee taught their youth to endure hunger and pain, to witness the torture of war captives and to listen to their red war chiefs brag about the deeds in battle they and their forebears had accomplished.
It all was a waste of energy that could be put to better use, William thought. The whole of the Indian problem was complex. It would take generations to solve it. William knew in his heart that one day the war councils would convene, the war dance would begin, and trouble would erupt anew along the frontier borders.
All of these things and more he had discussed at length with Rebecca’s brothers back on the Holston. They had agreed the risks were great, but the possible gains to be realized were greater.
Rebecca’s singing touched William. He glanced over his shoulder at his wife and children. Their lives and the lives of Rebecca’s family depended on him. William was aware that it was his love for adventure and his endless stories about Kentucky that had set them on this journey. He wanted to make their lives better. He prayed he would be equal to the task.
David and Jonathan came running in answer to William’s signal to halt. Peter Cutright climbed off his wagon and came forward. The men stood together, silently surveying the scene before them. Looking back they could see the mountains fading away into the distance behind them. Ahead the Ohio Valley stretched as far as they could see.
“I know this will someday be productive farmland,” William said, noting the look in his brother-in-law’s eyes. “But right now any white man foolish enough to settle north of the Ohio River rarely survives. Many squatters have paid dearly for encroaching on Shawnee and Chickasaw land.”
Both William and David had been promised western lands for their service in Washington’s army. When they mustered out, they received land warrant certificates for the Ohio Territory.
After much discussion, most of the soldiers agreed that Ohio would not be available for settlement in their lifetime. David and William then did as many other troops were doing. They sold the certificates to land companies in order to buy food and other necessities.
“Is this the place where we turn southward?” Peter Cutright asked, turning his back on the expansive Ohio River region.
William agreed. “We stay south of the river. The woodlands of Kentucky are not far off.” William’s anticipation was growing. His love for this beautiful country came flooding back. His heart beat faster. He could forget the war and its hardships. He was returning home.
On the twenty-sixth day of their journey, morning dawned clear and bright. Martha wrote in her journal. “Today the sun rose with a promise to warm the earth.”
Nancy and Sarah were the first to point out the column of smoke in the distance. After a few miles they could see more than one column rising above the horizon. It was clear they were nearing a pioneer settlement.
“We’ve made it. Thank the Lord,” Martha called out.
William wiped the sweat from his brow with his sleeve. Waving his hat in the air he yelled, “Hello, Kentucky.” Everyone broke into his or her favorite song.
I’m goin’ there to see my brother;
I’m goin’ there, no more to roam,
I’m just a-goin’ over Jordan,
I’m just a-goin’ over home.
The
