The Dead Speak: To Speak of the Dead

By Rodger Ghost Sims

Between being possessed by an angry spirit and being accused of a brutal murder, Joey Stillman is in a fight for his life. He has no memory of the attack, but he remembers the bloody aftermath vividly. Since being arrested, he struggles with rage that seems to flow from his dreams and the patience and control required dealing with his trial. Help, for what it is worth, is on the way in the unlikely form of two elderly menone carrying a scrapbook and the other carrying an old brown backpack. Its time to let the dead speak.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jun 16, 2016
• ISBN: 9781524508487

Rodger Ghost Sims

Rodger Sims Sr. has always been fascinated with Native Americans and the paranormal, hence his nickname—Ghost. He has written several short stories privately over the years, dealing with his love of the paranormal, and this is his first attempt at a novel. He is a veteran of the United States Marine Corps, having served ten years deployed around the globe. He is married to his beautiful wife of twenty-three years, Martina, and they have three children and four grandchildren.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

Dunbar Cave

T oday there was to be an exploration of Dunbar Cave. Participants of this exploration consisted of a true cross section of the town of Clarksville. Within this group of six were a historian, a nurse, a soldier, a car salesman, a professional spelunker, and a student from the local university. Most of these individuals did not know each other and it was fair to say that most of them had never gone exploring inside a cave. Spelunking, or cave exploration, for most of them had always been a secret desire, but few had actually acted on their impulses. Each of them was looking forward to the excitement of the unknown. Even though each of them did not know all the others, several within the group were friends.

Originally scheduled to meet outside the visitors’ center at six o’clock this morning so they could get an early start, four of the six participants were on hand; the youngest two of the six were nowhere to be found. Malcolm and Barry were both standing at the water’s edge overlooking the water. They were feeding the ducks and admiring the other birds flying around, the way they were ducking in and out of sight from the heavy fog.

Barry was telling Malcolm the pros and cons about buying a Saturn instead of a foreign model. Excuse me. The Saturn Ion is one of the better small cars on the market today. I can get you a great deal if you bring in your Crown Vic.

I am perfectly happy with my Crown Victoria. I bought it new in 1978, and I am very proud that it only has a little over 275,000 miles on it.

Yeah, whatever you say, Malcolm. Let me tell you, I have been in the car business for a few years now, and I have an ear for someone who is in search of a new car.

May I suggest you clean out your ears because I’m not interested in a new vehicle of any sort?

Whatever! Come by the dealership next week, and I’ll show you what we have in stock.

Malcolm looked quizzically at Barry, shook his head, and walked away from him. That guy is a serious asshole. He laughed silently to himself at his remark.

Richard and Mary Carpenter were moving around their vehicle, attempting to arrange all the gear for the exploration. After about fifteen minutes, Richard announced that they had everything ready to get started; only Joey and Samuel were nowhere to be seen. Mary was noticeably perturbed. She turned to Richard, saying, I told you it was a bad idea to let others go with us. It will be another hour before they show up.

I seriously doubt that the two people missing will take another hour to show up.

And why is that, Mister Hotshot?

For one thing, there are six cars here in the parking lot. I know for a fact that car belongs to the ranger I asked to let us in the cave.

So what does that mean?

Malcolm and Barry each drove their own cars, correct?

Yeah, and?

It would make sense that the sixth car would have to belong to someone in this group. Otherwise, someone has left their car here since yesterday. Think about it. They put the bar across the entrance to keep people out after dusk, correct?

I just hope you’re right, smart-ass.

Another ten minutes passed with no one showing up. Richard asked Malcolm, Are you sure the two people you told me about yesterday are going to show up?

They are already here.

What? Did you say they were already here?

Yes, I did. That white car behind you belongs to Samuel.

Then where are they?

I wish I knew.

If they don’t show up in the next fifteen minutes, we are starting without them! The ranger will not wait for us all day! Mary shouted at the group.

Within minutes, the group began hearing voices approaching the visitors’ center. They were coming from the direction of the cave.

That ranger is totally hot. Did you see the way she was looking at me? I love a woman in uniform, a voice was heard saying.

Malcolm recognized the voice as Samuel’s. Turning toward Richard, he said, I think that the rest of our group has arrived.

She was looking at me, dude. You are always second place with the ladies. You know you will always lose out to me, the other voice said.

This started a storm of name-calling and harassing behavior from the rest of the group. Where have you two been? Mary asked the two youngsters.

Looking back at her with a disgusted look on his face, he answered, Excuse me. We got here about three thirty or four o’clock. Where have you guys been?

So what have you been doing since then? barked Richard.

Well, if you must know, we got here early because we were excited about getting to go inside the cave. After we arrived, we went down by the cave so we could look around. While we were snooping around, we saw a sign for a walking trail. Samuel told me about stories Malcolm had told him about some of the things he had seen while walking back there, so that’s what we did. We had planned on taking the short path but took a wrong turn somewhere.

So what happened then? Malcolm asked Samuel.

After realizing we were running late to meet you guys here, we took off jogging down the paths. We got back to the cave, met, and started talking to this sweet-looking ranger babe. After talking to her for a few minutes, we discovered she was here to let us into the cave. Right after she said that, we hurried over here, and here we are.

Good. It’s about time that we get started. Mary and I have separated the backpacks by weight, so I want each of you to come over here and pick a pack and let me know if you feel comfortable carrying it for the next couple of days. Barry and Malcolm, you two go first. Richard directed the group one by one, instructing each person to pick several packs, selecting one, and then placing their selection on their back. After everyone situated their packs, the long-awaited expedition of Dunbar Cave was finally set to begin.

The leaders of this trip were the husband-and-wife team of Richard and Mary Carpenter. Richard, at thirty-five, was a professional spelunker. Standing a tad over five feet tall with a skinny frame and weighing all of 115 pounds soaking wet, Samuel made the comment to Joey as they were getting their backpacks that Richard resembled a skinny ghost. His complexion was solid white right down to his dirty blond hair. Joey said to Samuel, It appears that he has not seen the light of day in quite some time. Richard was, by far, the strongest of the group. Anyone could tell that just by looking at him. His arms and legs were ripped with sinewy muscles from years of crawling around the insides of many caves.

Richard’s wife, Mary, was a registered nurse at the local hospital. She looked nothing like her husband. She had long brown hair that matched her five-foot-eight-inch frame perfectly, looking as if she should be walking down a model walkway than running around inside caves. Today she was dressed in shorts and a dark-blue tank top. Richard and Mary had spent more time in caves than most people had in their homes. Both lived and breathed cave exploration. To say their passion for caves was obsessive would be an understatement.

Mary told everyone that she worked at the hospital as a hobby. She joked that if she could get paid what she made at the hospital for exploring caves full time, she would gladly give up nursing. Her medical background had come in handy on several explorations, from cases of mild hyperthermia to broken bones and abrasions. During their travels inside various caves, they had stumbled across inexperienced spelunkers who had required her special talents. There was one group in particular that lied about their spelunking experience to the owner of a cave near Pulaski, Tennessee, and luckily for the leader of the group, Richard and Mary were already inside the cave. These explorers were ignorant on how to traverse one area of the cave, and one member of their party fell into a pit, breaking his arm in two places. Others from the doomed expedition were calling out his name asking if he was okay, but he had passed out from the fall. Fortunately for them, Richard had heard the calls for help.

After several hectic minutes, Mary and Richard found the small group. They rappelled down about thirty feet to the injured man, and once she arrived, Mary began checking the young man for injuries. She then splinted his arm and one of his legs because of possible broken bones. She then wrapped him in an old poncho in an attempt to keep him from going into shock. While attending to the young man, Richard lowered a seat down to Mary and, with the help of the others in the group, managed to rig a block and tackle to lift the injured man from the pit. Both Mary and Richard were held as local heroes after the man fully recovered from his injuries.

On this trip, both Mary and Richard wanted to extend the explored area past the eight-mile limit currently established by the Tennessee Cave Society. On one hand, it had taken Richard several months, and he was excited to finally have permission to explore and attempt to map out several branches of the cave that were currently uncharted. Mary, on the other hand, will be spending her time looking for artifacts and had spent several years researching the history of caves in relation to their habitation and use by the Native American Indians. This weekend was to be spent exploring the cave in hopes of finding something, if anything, that Mary felt surely will be there if the Indians had actually inhabited this cave.

After walking a short distance, the group found themselves reaching the entrance to the cave, and to the excitement of Samuel and Joey, the ranger they spoke to earlier was still at the entrance, waiting for them. Tours were normally conducted on Monday and Friday, but for this exploration, Richard had to make prior arrangements for a ranger to be waiting for the group to allow them entrance to the cave. He also asked that they give them the standard tour for the benefit of those who had never been to the cave. After she gives us the normal tour of the cave, the real adventure begins.

As the group slowly walked by the ranger, who was standing by the gate, she introduced herself. Hello, everyone. My name is Samantha Lecco, one of the park rangers, and I will be conducting your tour this morning.

Malcolm Snyder was the local historian who had a secret desire to explore deep into Dunbar Cave for several years. Malcolm and Samuel had been friends for several years now since Malcolm helped Samuel on a history paper covering Clarksville. Even though Malcolm was in his late fifties, no one looking at him would believe it because he had the energy and spirit of a twenty-year-old. Malcolm and Samuel went out on many nature hikes exploring the many parts of Clarksville and the surrounding county. While Samuel was younger and one would think in better shape, Malcolm never once came back breathing hard. For a guy losing his hair and who had put on a few pounds around the midsection, Malcolm was still in relatively good shape. Malcolm was interested in Clarksville, its history, and, most of all, the people who lived here. He liked to tell everyone that his earliest memory of Clarksville came from old man Wilson, the town gossiper. He knew more dirt on anyone and could tell a story about anyone. Malcolm would sit for hours just listening to every word old man Wilson would say, memorizing every word for prosperity. When he died, Malcolm picked up where he left off and eventually could not go anywhere without someone stopping him, telling him about this and that. If Malcolm couldn’t remember a fact off the top of his head, he could go to his personal library of notebooks and, within minutes, tell you about any subject. He had plans on passing on his wealth of knowledge and possessions to Samuel if the young man proved to be a likely candidate.

One day, while on a tour of Dunbar Cave, Malcolm overheard someone talking about an upcoming exploration deep into the cave and wanted to be a part of it. Upon completing his tour, he approached one of the park rangers who gave him Richard’s number, telling him they were the ones planning the exploration.

After Malcolm told Samuel about the trip, he contacted Richard and was informed that he had room for one more person. Richard stated that he thought he may have someone interested in going, but he did not seem sure that the person would actually go or not.

Joey was a year older than Samuel and, like his friend, was an avid sports enthusiast. Joey stood about six feet tall and weighed a little lighter than Samuel, maybe 190 pounds. With his jet-black hair, brown eyes, and jock physique, he looked like a poster boy for the U.S. Army. He was heralded as a hero once for moving his squad away from a rappelling tower because he felt they were in danger. They actually were… A stray round from the range had misfired and shot off in their direction, striking the tower they were taking shelter under.

Having been in the army for six years, Joey was the typical soldier—motivated at work and all about play after hours. Most of the time, he can be found working out in the gym. Samuel picked on him because he said he needed to get a girlfriend knowing that when he got this way, there was usually a major topic on his friend’s mind. At times such as this, when he was reserved, he had been debating with himself, and he had finally decided to begin looking for his birth mother. Never knowing until his adopted parents were in an automobile crash and requiring blood donations did he find out that he was adopted. It took him several years of fighting with this revelation and the mistrust of his adopted parents to finally decide to look for her.

Samuel Lancaster was the youngster of the group, acting like the typical college student enjoying everything relating to sports, which was where he first met Joey. They met on one of his karaoke trips to the Sportsman’s Lodge at Fort Campbell. The two had seen each other and sang against the other on many occasions. Samuel and Joey made it to the finals, their positions being twentieth and twenty-first, respectively. Samuel attempted to sing Glycerin, butchering the song terribly because he had been drinking too much. Joey had tried singing Simple Man, which he too butchered, but it ended up being a crowd favorite. Neither of them won the grand prize. The decision was to no one’s surprise. Afterward, they would sing together anytime they could and do so quite badly. After that night, they were inseparable, never being more than a phone call away and getting into anything and everything imaginable. They would go repelling, rock climbing, canoeing, watching concerts and now spelunking.

Being in his mid-twenties, he still had an adventuresome spirit. This was part of the reason for him wanting to explore the cave. Standing about six feet three inches tall and weighing about two hundred pounds, one would have a hard time finding an ounce of body fat on him. Every time he went out, most women meeting him would fall instantly in love with his hypnotic green eyes. He had this problem though. Yes, he was put together like Adonis, but he didn’t know how to talk to women yet. Everything he said came out as a joke. Malcolm always joked with him about being a heartbreaker toward the women so long as he kept his mouth shut.

Hearing from Malcolm that there was a slot available for an upcoming deep exploration of the cave, he got Richard’s phone number from Malcolm to confirm if there was one more slot for his friend. Richard gave him the information—what, when, where, etc.—and hung up the phone. Samuel called Joey to let him know that they had plans for the weekend. Joey, like Samuel, did not hesitate one second after being told about the expedition.

Last but not least was Barry Williams, a car salesman and was on his first exploration after many years of reading about spelunking. One look at Barry and you could tell what he did for a living. He was a short, dumpy kind of fellow at four feet eleven inches tall and weighing in at least 230 pounds. He told everyone that he was in the military, but after several attempts to pry which branch, he never told. Mary and Malcolm were talking, and she wondered if they would have to carry him out of the cave because of his overweight condition. He was shorter than Malcolm, but he didn’t look to have taken care of himself very well. He overheard someone at his dealership that there was going to be an expedition of the cave by a park ranger there to buy a vehicle. After asking the ranger for the contact number, Barry contacted Richard to see if he could accompany the group. Richard decided, from this point on, he would ask people he didn’t know if they were in somewhat good physical condition.

Samuel, Joey, and Barry all returned her greeting eagerly. Hello again, beautiful, Joey whispered under his breath.

Excuse me, but there are other people in this group. Barry snapped at Joey.

There certainly are, and I would like to get to know that other person a whole lot better, Samuel chimed in, unaware that it was Barry who made the comment. Oh, I’m sorry, Barry. Go ahead.

Now blushing uncontrollably, Samantha looked at Barry, saying, It’s quite all right. I’ve met both Joey and Samuel earlier.

I hope they haven’t ruined my chances at getting a date when we get back from our little excursion.

Samuel nudged Barry roughly on the arm. Smiling at the threesome, she looked toward the others, saying, "Dunbar Cave has had a long and distinguished history. Back in 1790, a gentleman by the name of Isaac Rowe Peterson traveled to Clarksville to seek his fame and fortune. Traveling without his family, he discovered the cave and staked a claim on it. Wanting to show the land and cave to his family, he returned to North Carolina, gathering his family, and quickly returned to Clarksville. During his absence, another man named Thomas Dunbar also discovered the cave. Not realizing the previous claim, Dunbar also staked a claim and subsequently built a home for him and his family. Almost a year later, in 1791, Peterson returned with his family to take possession of his claim. You can imagine the surprise he had realizing the Dunbar family living on his land. After a bitter and often heated dispute, the matter was finally settled in court. It was Peterson who eventually received the title to the land. Dunbar wasn’t a total loser in the agreement. Peterson had to pay Dunbar a sum of one hundred pounds for the house he built.

A hundred pounds. Dude, that was like a lot of money back then, wasn’t it? Samuel said to Malcolm.

Samantha began speaking again. Let’s continue. During the 1930s, a group of dedicated Clarksville civic and business leaders got together forming the Dunbar Cave and Idaho Springs Corporation. Their purpose was to develop the cave and surrounding area into a resort. The first order of business was to build a dam across the valley forming a fifteen-acre lake fed by the cave stream. Once completed, the Idaho Springs Hotel was built complete with a swimming pool, tennis courts, lighted parking lots, and other amenities. Later on, a pavilion was added complete with bandstand and concession building to the cave entrance. These renovations were made utilizing native stone in order to harmonize with the cave’s surroundings. As a final touch, a lighting system was fabricated and installed inside the cave. After its completion, the pavilion became the site of many dances with music being provided by the big bands of the era. Being in the path of a major route between Louisville and Nashville, this allowed bands traveling the route to stop at Dunbar Cave and play for the residents, which would allow them the chance to dance to the music of some of the most famous musicians of that time.

Can you imagine someone like Fats Domino or Chuck Berry playing at a place like this? Barry commented.

Hey, dumb-ass, Chuck Berry and Fats Domino were from a different era, you idiot. Joey snapped at Barry.

Excuse me, gentlemen, but I need to continue so that I can get back to work, Samantha said calmly. Anyway, in 1945, the corporation was dissolved, causing the four-hundred-acre resort to be sold to the mayor of Clarksville and, eventually, to Roy Acuff, the country music star. Mr. Acuff had planned to have an arena built on the northeast side of the lake and also an eighteen-hole golf course adjacent to the east side of the lake. While under Acuff’s ownership, many of Nashville’s most successful and rising country music stars played upon the pavilion. Years later, in the 1960s, Acuff sold the cave to McKay King, a local contractor. King attempted several times to revive the resort, but his attempts ultimately ended in failure. After King’s death, his wife closed the cave for good. A year later, the city of Clarksville purchased the golf course from the estate, leaving the one hundred and ten acres that we currently have today.

That is an interesting story. I never realized Roy Acuff ever owned this place. Wow, Samuel said, looking at Malcolm.

This is why I love history so much. You never know what tidbit of information that just might come to the surface, Malcolm said.

If everyone is ready, I’ll go open the gate to let you all in.

We’ve been ready for over three hours. Let’s get moving, Mary said, looking at Richard in disgust.

With the extra weight of everyone carrying gear and trying to traverse certain sections of the cave, the standard tour lasted a little more than an hour and a half. Samantha told the group several stories about major sections within the cave. In one such section, she explained that because of years of neglect and vandalism, many of the natural beauties of the cave had been diminished. She explained that certain oils found in our skin obstruct certain functions essential for the life of the cave. Due to the extensive use of the cave during the 1800s, much of the damage you see will take many years to overcome, she said, pointing out many of the stalactites and stalagmites that were destroyed, explaining how long it would take for the ecosystem of the cave to repair itself. As she led the group from the dance hall, she pointed out names of interest from the community and a drawing presumably of a Civil War officer.

Another section of the cave appeared to have been burned with soot, covering everything within the hall. Samantha explained that many years ago, the city of Clarksville planned to use the cave as a civil defense shelter. It was not until after the cave had been fully stocked that officials deemed the cave unsuitable because the cave could not be completely sealed in the event of an atomic blast, thus rendering the cave useless as a shelter. Instead of having the workers pack the provisions back out of the cave, the decision was made to burn the supplies in place. That ill-fated choice made by city officials had a devastating effect on the cave’s future bat population. No one knew that the smoke and soot from the fire blurred the bats’ ability to navigate, eventually killing them or driving them from the cave never to return. Well, that concludes my portion of the exploration. Does anyone have any questions or comments that they would like for me to answer concerning anything you have seen today?

After several seconds of silence, Richard spoke up. I want to personally thank you for your time this morning and your patience with some of our questions.

I hope that you all have a great time inside our cave today, and I look forward toward seeing you again in a few days upon your return.

As she turned to head back to the entrance, Barry asked her almost under his breath, Can I have your phone number so I can call you when I get out of here?

She doesn’t want to talk to you, you old fart! Samuel snapped at Barry, punching him lightly in the arm.

Hey! Cut it out. It never hurts to ask. What is the worst thing she can say? No!

She smiled back at Barry and the others and shyly waved good-bye at the group as she walked away. Barry noticed the young lady signaling for him to call her by putting her hand to the side of her face as if talking on the phone. Barry smiled and nodded to her that he will contact her, and then he turned toward the group with a smile of triumph on his face. What they didn’t know was that he already had her phone number.

After Samantha left the group, the sites as they went deeper into the cave became more pronounced. Everyone was astonished at what they were seeing within the cave. Unlike the standard tour, the stalactites and stalagmites in these areas were beyond belief. When they would meet, it looked almost like pillars holding the cave up. They noticed the water cutting down through the cave floor gave the lights from the helmets a beautiful yet eerie glow against the walls of the cave. They ran into a section where there were a couple of small bats. Mary pulled out her tape recorder and made a note to tell the rangers where they had seen them. After hearing the stories told by Ranger Lecco, the group watched in awe but left the bats unmolested.

With the bats and all, this place reminds me of an old Bela Lugosi movie, Barry commented.

"Yeah, like Dracula Meets the Mummy!" Samuel blurted out.

Everyone laughed. Time seemed to hang on every new discovery for the team, but the distance they had traveled went by all too fast.

Five hours into the trip and about six to eight miles into the cave, the group arrived at a place where Richard was scheduled to explore a side shaft of the cave. Richard informed the others, Just down that tunnel is the end of the explored limit of Dunbar Cave.

You mean to tell me that we are almost eight miles into the cave? That’s awesome, dude! It doesn’t seem we have traveled all that far. Samuel looked at him in total amazement.

Now is when the real fun begins, Richard told the group.

Mary had seen the shaft on previous trips and had hounded Richard to explore it the next time they went in. She had a strong feeling from that area and was hoping to find items that would match the others she had already discovered in other area caves. In one such cave on the eastern side of the state, Mary had found a few artifacts a few miles inside it. She told Richard about the find, telling him that No one has ever found anything this far back before. She had never seen anything remotely similar to the items she found in any of the other caves they have explored. She took the artifacts to a friend at Austin Peay State University to be analyzed. One of the other professors could not place them with any Indian tribes that inhabited the area. He told her that they were definitely not from any Cherokee tribes, telling her that he was not able to accurately identify any of the artifacts that she had given him and had asked her if he could keep some of them for further investigation. She agreed readily.

As Joey walked up to the side tunnel, Mary was telling them about what she expected to find when he began to get light-headed, almost falling down. Reaching out, he steadied himself against the wall of the cave. Looking at his friend’s face, Samuel noticed that he could almost see the blood run from his face. What’s the matter, dude?

I have a strange feeling about going any further. I can’t explain what I feel. I just know there is death in there. Someone will die if we go in there.

Oh, come on, man. You’ve got to be kidding, Samuel told Joey as he pushed him slightly toward the entrance.

This is a big mistake, Joey told his friend. He began to wish he had never agreed to come with them. I’m not kidding, guys! I have a very bad feeling about this.

We’ve come too far to stop and head back to the surface now. You know when we started this, it was all or nothing there, chief, Richard said to Joey.

I think it may be a slight case of claustrophobia. I can give you something to help you if you want it, Mary said.

Not right now, Mary, but I may ask you for one later if I need it.

I’ve got a bad feeling about this, Samuel said mockingly, quoting lines from one of their favorite movies. If you don’t make it out of here, I’ll call your mother!

Joey swung lazily at Samuel as he realized what he said came from one of their favorite movies, his hand glancing of Samuels’ shoulder. Joey followed the group, staying near the back of the group, accompanied by Samuel.

Malcolm and Barry went back over their conversation from the last few hours. Barry was a bit of a history buff on Fort Campbell, having been stationed there off and on for fifteen years and retired. He could tell anyone who was willing to listen about every general and command sergeant major of every unit on the base since he arrived there. They had discussed Bosnia, Somalia, and every place that Fort Campbell had been detached over the years. Malcolm and Barry were trying to top each other’s story by telling what they remembered about events from the past. Malcolm was telling Barry about the Bell Witch and her exploits, while Barry was telling Malcolm about his travels overseas, specifically those surrounding Desert Storm.

Barry went so far to tell Malcolm about some of the people to whom he sold cars. He would refer to them in racial slurs, commenting on how he took their money to the bank. Joey made a gesture of hanging himself when he caught Malcolm looking around for help. Mary witnessed Joey’s actions and looked quizzically at him. He pointed at Barry and then made his hand into the shape of a gun and pretended to shoot himself in the head. Mary didn’t understand the relevance of the motion, so she shrugged and continued on with her exploration.

Listening to those two go at it was as exciting as visiting a morgue or watching paint dry, Joey whispered to Samuel.

I know what you mean. Barry just refuses to give it up. Trust me, he will never top any of Malcolm’s stories. I would know I’ve heard most of them, and they all are true unlike Barry’s.

About that same time, the two noticed Barry excuse himself to Malcolm and walk ahead toward Richard and Mary.

The two walked over to Malcolm. Bet you’re glad that’s over. Samuel snapped out.

I have never seen nor heard one person that is so into himself as that man is.

By the look on your face, you were about to hit him to get him to shut up.

It didn’t help you two making all those faces and gestures behind his back, Malcolm said to them.

I wanted to laugh so badly, but that would’ve put him into a different mood, and I didn’t want that.

CHAPTER 2

Indian Tribe

T here once was a tribe of Native American Indians migrating north through what would eventually be the state of Tennessee. Who they were, where they came from, and what their exact location was could never be determined because there was no written record of them ever traveling through this area.

Such a story as this had a meager beginning and started approximately three hundred years ago. Life for these people was an easy one. Before their trek began, each member of the tribe had a peaceful existence. Their sole responsibilities were chores of hunting or fishing and the enjoyment of waking up and working hard until the sun went back down. On such a day, their tribe was attacked in what was to later being determined as a territorial war by neighbors known as the Tonkawa tribe. They occupied lands along the tribe’s western border, in an area that was harsh and not suited for sustaining wildlife.

Lazy Bear is the chief of this free-spirited tribe. On many occasions, he would allow the Tonkawa tribe to freely hunt and fish on his people’s lands. Everyone was free to come and go as they pleased. In fact, after years of cohabitation, many of the Tonkawans were given a choice to take up residence with the tribe. Lazy Bear had gone so far as to ask the council if they would permit the two tribes to join as one. As he had in the past, this year, he brought the subject up again. It was his hope that this time the council would see things his way and agree to his proposal so he could announce the merger after the great buffalo hunt coming up a few months.

Every year, around the same time, Lazy Bear arranged for a vast buffalo hunt. Buffalo seemed to remember the path they traveled from one year to the next because they cut the same path through the northern portion of his lands on their way toward greener pastures further south. Weeks before they arrived, scouts were dispatched to check the status of the herd. They located and followed the herd, sending a messenger back to the tribe, hopefully returning within three days before they arrived.

Preparation for the hunt went like clockwork. From years of experience, everyone helped from both tribes, from the youngest child participated by carrying small items to the elderly who shaped arrowheads for the hunt. In his normal manner, Lazy Bear always selected the hunting parties, having them paired so that one scout was from each of the two tribes. This would allow each tribe to claim equal amounts of buffalo for each of the respective tribes.

Finally, the morning came when the scouts had predicted the buffalo would be passing through their lands. Members of both tribes not assigned as hunters, such as the women and children, made up the nearly two hundred support workers. They would be the ones to skin and gut the buffalo and prepare the meat and skins to be returned to the tribal area.

Later that morning, as if on cue, the buffalo arrived right where they had been expected. Spirits within both tribes were high for this hunt as they began to crest the opposite ridge, as many elders predicted that this year’s hunt would be the best ever. Only twenty to thirty buffalo ran down the hillside. Minutes later, the ground began shaking as several hundred of the beasts winded their way down the countryside. Watching from their vantage point, thousands of them were seen as far as the eye could see. The noise from the hoofs striking the ground was deafening, sounding like thunder from a huge storm. As foretold, the beasts ran down the hill from the northwest through the valley and off to the southeast.

Once the buffalo crested the hill and started down into the flatland of the pastures, the hunting party began riding to intercept them. Arrows flew from every angle through the air, founding their marks, with animals dropping all over the valley. Within the span of two hours, hundreds of buffalo now lay dead and dying from one end of the valley to the other, each just waiting to be skinned and butchered. By every indication, both tribes would have enough hides and food to hold them through the winter and up until early spring of the following year. The tribal elders were correct in their predictions because it had been a very long time since they had this hearty of a hunt. With the success of the hunt, there were many items now on Lazy Bear’s agenda, which consisted of food stores and daily tribal concerns and a very important personal matter.

Prior to the attack, Lazy Bear had been having a recurring dream about exploring and possibly finding a part of the tribe that was rumored to have gone exploring the northern territory many years ago. Having left on their journey when he was a young boy, he thought of them every day, remembering the excitement of wanting to go with them. Ever since that time as a small boy, there had been no word from them. It was as if the earth had swallowed them up.

He remembered the chief at the time was very old and some said a little crazy. He may have been crazy, but what he wanted was to move the tribe farther north, attempting to escape from the intense heat that the tribe was subjected to. He lived for another six years after they left. Each and every day of those six years, he would walk to the edge of his land and stare out to the horizon, waiting for them to return.

One day after becoming chief, Lazy Bear was out walking. He happened to remember the stories of these lost people. He thought about what the old chief had said and that they should never give up hope that they would come home. Since his tribe left under other than optimal circumstances, he decided that the time had come to strike out in an attempt to find the lost members of the tribe. With the tribe in shambles and most of the people opposing the idea now dead, all he had to do now was convince the council it was the right thing to do.

During previous council meetings, he had introduced the idea and was instantly shut down. For many months, every time he brought up the subject, he was outvoted, but he never gave up on his dream. Many members of the council, even though young at the time, still vividly remembered how his dream had affected the old chief and wanted nothing to do with the idea. During one such council meeting, there was one elder, who was the strongest opponent of the trip, who actually got up and walked out of the meeting to keep from hearing his argument again.

Another elder said to Lazy Bear, Those of us who left all those years ago are dead. If they are not dead, would they have not come back by now to gather the rest of us?

How can we just give up on them? Lazy Bear asked, looking around at each of the council members. It was his dream that they return.

How do we know where they went or how far they traveled?

I can’t believe that I am hearing this. I have been pushing this council to go and find our people since I was appointed as chief.

So what makes you think that we are going to change our mind now since we have been telling you no for many years now?

I’ll make you a deal. If we have a good hunt, then agree to pack up and follow me to look for them.

You know that the hunts have not produced that much meat and skins for the tribe.

Doesn’t matter what the past has given to us. My deal is on this next hunt. If it is successful, then we will go looking for them?

Leave us for a few minutes and then return, and we will give you our answer.

After Lazy Bear left, Tall Pine, the outspoken council member, turned to the rest. I have no problem in following his request because I am sure that this year’s hunt will provide about the same yield as the last two years.

I am in agreement with Tall Pine on this matter, Dark Cloud announced. There is no chance of the hunt being as successful as Lazy Bear is expecting.

As soon as the hunt is over, I will call for another meeting, and then we shall tell Lazy Bear that we are to hear no more of these people, Tall Pine said to the group, many elders shaking their heads as he spoke in unanimous agreement.

After a few minutes, as if on cue, Lazy Bear reentered, looking around at the other elders. By the look on everyone’s face, I see that you all are in agreement.

We are, everyone said in unison.

We will call for another council meeting after completion of the hunt to further discuss this matter, Tall Pine told him.

Lazy Bear turned and walked out again, this time with a smile on his face. He was certain that his people were somewhere to the north or possibly to the east. He felt optimistic that he could find them, thus reuniting his people. Even though many of his people thought him mad, with the councils backing, he could now move the tribe to look for the others. He was looking forward to informing the rest of the tribe after the hunt that he planned to start looking for them. His lifelong dream was looking as if it would become a reality. Little did he know, but the Tonkawans were to destroy his dream even as it came within his reach.

Planning for the upcoming attack had been secretly started for many weeks before the actual attack took place. All that was needed was the right time. Once the signal to attack was given, Broken Tree estimated that everyone would be killed in less than twenty-four hours. Every detail of the attack down to the slightest detail had been choreographed. Every tribe member knew what was expected of them.

Originally, the attack was scheduled to begin after the council meeting, preceding the great hunt of which Broken Tree was a regular visitor of. Over the last few years, he had observed Lazy Bear introducing ideas to the council to get the tribe to go looking for some lost section of their tribe. He decided to use this to his advantage. Having been associated with the hunt over the years, Broken Tree knew he and his people were always asked to take part in the celebrations, so again this year, he happily agreed to do so.

Broken Tree had missed the last council meeting but had someone else go instead. After the meeting, he was told of a plan that Lazy Bear had proposed to the council and the continuous diversion among tribal elders. It was a proposal to combine the lands of the two tribes into one. Lazy Bear neglected to inform him about his idea and by not doing so had offended him. This offense struck Broken Tree as personal, and it angered him. Instead of looking at this plan in a positive light, he saw this tactic as a means by which Lazy Bear could take over his lands. He wouldn’t allow this outrage to happen. There would be retribution for this unprovoked action.

Stealing the food stores was the least of what he wanted to do to these violators. He wanted more than just food stores from Lazy Bear. He wanted everything—food, water, land, and hunting rights. If Lazy Bear was correct in his assumptions, and the hunt would be as successful as he believed, then the hunt would give him the opportunity he needed. He decided to schedule the attack for the day after the great feast. What he was not told of Lazy Bear’s proposal was that once the hunt was successful and after the feast, he would be given total control over both tribal lands so that Lazy Bear and his tribe could strike out for its lost members. He was going to peacefully get what he was about to massacre his neighbors for, his land.

A week prior to the great hunt, Lazy Bear sent a group of warriors to scout the perimeter of his lands. With the buffalo hunt on the horizon, he wanted to ensure that there were no surprises from any of the neighboring tribes. He invited Broken Tree and his tribe to stay with him so that they wouldn’t need to pack the buffalo from their portion of the hunt back to their camp and then to skin and jerky the meat. He hoped they could do it together, helping one another. This would be the second time, according to Broken Tree, that Lazy Bear had insulted him and his people. As a result of this second insult, he planned, as part of the attack, that Lazy Bear’s warriors would be ambushed as they were returning on the way back from their patrol. By the word of Broken Tree, not one of these warriors was to survive. Their bodies were to be mutilated beyond any and all recognition. This attack would be the beginning of the much larger slaughter.

Shortly before sunrise, the raid began. Screams from the surrounding forests were the mechanism used to signal the attack. As the screams signaling the attack began to fade, a different kind of screams began to be heard. Within minutes, screams were emanating from the entire valley. They were coming not only from the attacking tribe but also from the tribe being attacked. During the initial moments of the attack, everyone on both sides were disoriented. Many of the tribe’s people appeared to be wandering around aimlessly, too stunned to defend themselves. No one knew who the attackers were or from what direction they stunned at the screaming anywhere coming from. Everything, from dogs to horses, was running through the compound. Tonkawa warriors on horseback were screaming at the top of their lungs to give the illusion of them trying to evade attackers while killing everyone they could. As they rode purposefully through the camp, they were shooting arrows at everyone. It looked as if they were defending themselves against whatever tribe was attacking them.

Lazy Bear was the first to be located and killed. He was killed as he crawled out of his dwelling, struck in the chest with several arrows. One warrior jumped off his horse, scalping Lazy Bear and then cutting out his eyes and tongue. Once done with that, the warrior fired additional arrows into the body of the dead chief. These arrows were shot into the body as a direct result of instructions from Broken Tree. After finding and killing Lazy Bear, the plan was to locate and kill the entire tribal council. They were not to be mutilated to the level as their chief, but many arrows were shot into each body. As the warriors were killing the upper level of the tribe, they were also killing their families. No one was to be left alive to retaliate against the attack. Once the chief and council had been eradicated, the Tonkawa warriors were ordered to go after the remainder of the tribe. This was to include everyone, women and children. There was to be no exceptions whatsoever.

As the attack continued, the warriors were channeling their attention in finding their individual targets as well as the rest of the tribe that was now running into the woods, scattering in every direction. Several of the attacking tribe began riding along the edge of the thick forest looking for anyone who may have fled the attack. Broken Tree rode into the site after most of the buildings and tepees were torn down and ablaze. He gathered his warriors and asked them if every person within the tribe had been hunted down and killed. Several of the warriors announced to him that they had seen people who may have escaped into the woods. He told his scouts to hunt down everyone and kill them or do not return.

After several days, Broken Tree suspended the attack and told his people that the land was theirs now and for them to rebuild what were now their lands. Unknown to everyone, there were survivors. Some sixty in all managed to evade their attackers and quickly reassemble the tribe. It took the better part of a week for the tribe to partially recover from the attack. What remained barely resembled a tribe. What were left were mostly young children, a few teenagers, and a handful of elderly men and women. The normal social structure everyone knew and respected was now totally opposite from what it used to be. Instead of grown men holding the warrior role, the warrior class now consisted of twelve- and thirteen-year-old boys who knew nothing about protecting a tribe.

No one would realize the biggest shock to the social order. Normally, the chief would be one of the eldest males, but this new chief was only fifteen years old. His name was Flying Eagle. His father was one of the senior warriors killed in the recent attack. Just a few days ago, he was learning to hunt and skin animals. At his young age, he had no experience of how to keep his people from being killed and even less of how to lead his people.

Everyone remaining was scared and looking to him to protect them and their way of life. Flying Eagle began pondering ideas when he remembered having heard stories Lazy Bear would tell about a lost tribe. Even though they were not permitted inside, he and his friends would lift the edge of tepee and listen to the stories as the chief and the elders would talk about them. He could almost picture them in some faraway land hunting and fishing.

Now that Lazy Bear was dead, Flying Eagle had no other viable option or ideas on what to do, so he decided to honor the memory of his dead chief and attempt to find them. Given the fact that he was now in charge of the tribe, and there was no one to defend them against the Tonkawa tribe, he had little opposition from the remaining elders that they should attempt to locate the lost people. The biggest hurdle was that anyone and everyone who had any possible knowledge concerning the whereabouts of the tribe was killed in the massacre.

Flying Eagle, remembering the tales he heard, had a slight idea of where to begin looking for these lost people Lazy Bear used to talk about. He was thankful that he had enjoyed listening to those long and terribly drawn-out stories. Short of what he was able to recall, he knew nothing of exactly where they were going or even how long it would take to get there. They could be walking for months and even years, spanning thousands of miles. This journey would take them into and through the territories of many tribes from Caddo to Catawba, from Osage to Abnaki. Holding to the same page as his predecessor, before this group went anywhere, supplies had to be gathered. There wasn’t a single person who was not terrified with the possibility of being discovered by Broken Tree and his group of murderers. Everyone knew it was certain death to be discovered.

Immediately after the massacre, rumors concerning their fate began circulating among the tribe. Stories about the other tribes that they would no doubt meet along their way started filling the ears of everyone. Flying Eagle had always heard about the stories the elders would tell about how the tribe had been killed by an unknown people. Depending upon which elder was telling the story, a wide array of different tribes had been responsible for killing them. One such story consisted of a tale that culminated in the Cherokee killing them, thinking that they were a part of a raiding party. This story seemed to be the favorite being passed down from generation to generation about this tribe and the way the Cherokee had butchered them. Other versions of this story were told of the tribe joining the Shawnee people, while other stories would have them killed by the Kickapoo.

Flying Eagle decided to move the group back to where the buffalo had been hunted. There, they would be able to gather some meat and hides from what was left behind from the recent hunt. It should also put some distance between his tribe and those whom he guessed were still hunting for them. Once they reached the valley, everyone, from the youngest to the oldest, took turns gathering what they could. As he predicted, there was plenty of meat left behind, and some of the older women managed to retrieve enough hides for garments. Slowly, painfully, they managed to build enough food stores for them to begin their journey.

After gathering the necessary food stores and luckily staying out of the sight of the Tonkawans’ bloodlust, this ragtag group of elderly and children was ready to start the search. Most of the injured in their midst had recovered enough to begin the journey. Flying Eagle went out with those whom he now called his scouts in an attempt to look for a way out of his own land. They left their land, finding a waterway that was large enough to handle the size of their group yet small enough so as not to bring attention to the same. He wanted to leave behind the horror of the known because it terrified him. At the same time, he was becoming even more terrified of what lay ahead of him, which was the unknown.

Many daily problems would arise that would constantly require Flying Eagle’s attention. A daily occurrence during their trek was that many of the children would get bored from walking every day. They would require many breaks to do any number of things, from going to the bathroom to wanting a drink to being tired and wanting to sleep. The evenings were not much different because they would ask the elders to retell stories about a race of people that would kill anyone they found on their lands just for being there. Each of the elders, knowing the trip would be a long one, took it upon themselves to tell the story in such a way that each time the story was told, the attacks were embellished more and more so that the mere utter of the word Cherokee seemed to frighten everyone that much more. Since at the time, the Cherokee people were known and that they were nowhere near Cherokee lands, the elders decided to use them as a means to scare the