A Story about a Village with Elders - Essay Example

The elders sent our finest Braves out to trade with the strangers. Although my Mother forbade me going to the shore, I could not resist seeing my Father take his canoe out to the big canoe. My Father was one of the fastest and courageous braves. As I slowly pushed the foliage back, I saw the braves paddling out. My Father looked over his shoulders and easily spotted me. His look told me that I would be severely scolded later, but he pushed his long hair back and focused on paddling out to the large canoe. I looked closer at the big canoe. The strangers are white men. I laughed upon spying through the trees at the hairy white men climbing all over the big canoes like my friends and I climb trees. The big canoe had smaller canoes. The smaller canoes began hitting the water and coming ashore with our braves following. The small canoes were filled with beads, knives, and hatchets. Our braves traded potatoes, fruits, and tobacco. It seems like more and more big canoes are coming. I overheard my parents talking about the big canoes after they thought my brothers and I were asleep. They were worried about the white man coming in the big canoes. As I snuggled under my blanket, my parents’ voices droned on. The smoke was making shapes as it rose through the top of our teepee. I saw a bear being attacked by a raccoon as I drifted off to sleep. When the big canoes first appeared, people in my tribe were not concerned. The white man was not able to cope with the harsh environment. They did not know what to plant or when to plant it. The white man would eat poisonous berries, fish, and plants. Their shelters were inadequate for the cold or heat. The white man has a heavy footstep. This prevents them from hunting with success. The land was killing them. The big canoes started arriving more regularly. More ‘supplies’ were being brought to the ‘settlements’. The white man brought beads, knifes, and hatchets. We traded food with them, but the white man had little respect. We have winter and summer homes. The white man would try to make permanent ‘settlements’ on lands that had been used by us for as long as anyone could remember. At first we moved, but the white man became more aggressive with their demands for land. How can any man red or white own land? The land cannot be owned like a bow or teepee. After I fell asleep with my parents’ voices lulling me to sleep, I dreamed a vivid dream. The smoke raccoon turned into a real raccoon attacking a real bear. The bear kept telling the raccoon that he was bigger, but the raccoon kept attacking until he died of exhaustion. After I woke up to my Mother’s singing, I pondered my dream. Was the raccoon the red man and the bear the white man? I did not know, but if this dream was true the red man would fight to the death for their ideals. My Father had not forgotten about my disobeying him the day before. He had told me to stay with the tribe when he went out to greet the big canoe. My friends and I had spotted the boat and ran back to tell the Elders. When the braves went out to the big canoe, I was ordered to stay in the village. My disobedience made my Father give me the chore of helping my Mother with the washing. This was woman’s work. I was supposed to be training as a brave, not washing clothes. The rawhide my people made clothes with slapped against the rocks. It had turned cold during the night making my fingers sting in the cold water. Pretty soon my tribe would move on to the winter home. Our winter home was among tall fir trees. These trees helped protect the teepees from snow and cold. As my poor hands turned blue, I did not regret watching my Father trade with the big canoe. As the leaves turned yellow, red, and fell off the trees, the whole tribe looked toward Chief Kocoum. When the fire outside his teepee went out the whole tribe would begin the packing process to move. Several days after my washing duty Chief Kocoum’s fire went out. We began taking apart the teepees and fashioning the sleds to move. Our sleds were different than the white mans. Two long poles were fastened together with a piece of rawhide. As every man, woman, and child rushed around preparing for the move, the white man was temporarily forgotten. That was a big mistake. After all the preparations were done, my tribe settled in for the night. Tomorrow we would depart early. It took several days to journey to the winter home. At dawn the whole tribe would leave. My Mother had braided my brother, two sisters, and my hair as the sun set. She used a rawhide tie to make sure our hair stayed in place. This was a ritual our Mother completed every full moon. She sang to us. As we lay down, a voice screamed in alarm. At first I thought that it was the rival tribe that fought with us over water. A loud boom made me and the others realize it was from a white man’s boom stick. The braves of tribe grabbed bows and arrows, hatchets, and knives. My Mother shoved my brother and me under a bush. As she was rushing back for our sisters, my Mother was shot by a white man. My brother ran for vengeance, but he too was struck down. I watched as my whole tribe was massacred. As dawn broke the white man set the village on fire. I waited until the last flame went out. The death was hard to see. As I watched my tribe burn, I thought about the raccoon and the bear. I understood the raccoon’s resolve. As I slipped into the forest, I vowed the white man would pay for this. My tribe would be avenged. I wandered through the forest to my tribe’s winter place. The emptiness of the land made me scared. Our winter home was no longer a home. Only death awaited me here. I decided to find our tribe’s red man enemy. Their winter place was a day’s journey into the sunset. When I arrived, the sentry took me to their chief. After hearing my story, he welcomed me into his tribe. Our hatred of the white man bound us together. The chief adopted me. I was trained as a brave. My hatred of the white man never died. I decided to recruit other tribes to fight the white man. Every tribe we encountered, I told my story. Some of the braves and tribes I recruited believed we could defeat the white man. I knew that the white man could not be defeated. The bear would always be stronger, but the raccoon would always have more determination. My recruits had more determination and would hurt the white man, but never totally run them away. My recruited braves went from every white man’s house we could find. The white man was stupid. Their greed for land made individual houses placed away from each other. This allowed my men to come and kill. We killed men, women, and children. It did not matter. Scalps hung from every one of my braves’ belts. The white man called us savages for these acts. They never once thought about their acts. At one time my braves and I terrorized the land that my tribe used to live on. The white man would not face us braves, but chose to kill our women and children. A group of white men got together with their boom sticks. They chased us down with horses. My men were scattered after a huge battle. Individual braves went back to their weakened tribes. I hated to see them go. Despite my leg wound, I vowed to keep fighting the treacherous white man. I went back to my adopted tribe to heal. I would walk with a limp for the rest of my life. Although I found another way to stop the white man from ‘colonizing’ my land, my sons vowed to continue my fight. I told them my story in our oral tradition. My sons learned to hate everything about the white man. They vowed to fight the white man. More importantly my sons vowed to teach their sons to hate and teach their sons. The raccoon would not give up until destroyed. Read More