Once I saw a bear in the woods and I followed it. It traveled up and down hills and valleys all the while keeping a safe distance from me. He went up to the top of a large hill, and stood there for a while just staring out over the other hills and valleys. While I tried not to get to close, I was curious as to what that bear was looking at, so while keeping a safe distance from the bear, I climbed up to the top of the hill just to observe what he saw.
As he stared down into the valley, hear appeared to be crying, almost sobbing at what he saw. He stood up and growled and roared the most sorrowful sounds I had ever heard and with his heartache, I too began to weep and mourn out of empathy. He was beautiful, strong and majestic, with beautiful hair that shook as he bellowed. As I watched, he collapsed mournfully onto the ground and laid there for what seemed like hours. I wanted to comfort him, but feared for my life.
What seemed like an eternity later, he marshaled himself up onto all fours and slowly began his mournful trek down the side of the hill to the exact location that brought him such distress and sadness was beckoning him. His slow, methodical plodding was only enhanced by his sorrowful cries into the darkening silence of where he was being led.
Our slow pace took hours which felt like days. He would stand up next to a tree and beat his massive paws against it as he mourned but would, after a few moments continue his descent to the cause of his sadness. Finally, we came to a clearing and you could hear running water from a small river. On the East side of the clearing, next to a small river was a rock ledge with many caves. On the West side of the clearing was the small river where the water flowed as it had for thousands of years.
That magnificent bear cried and wept as he went from body to body of his family who was massacred in the small clearing. As he went to his parents and grandparents he called out to them only to find as he reached their lifeless bodies that they had been slaughtered and left behind in a hateful display of malice. He repeated the process with his mate and children, his dozens of siblings, and hundreds of aunts and uncles, nephews and nieces. He laid down with them and mourned for days as I watched in horror.
What had happened was so gruesome and brutal few could imagine. What had happened no one wants to admit to as facts. But the bear knows and I know what really happened. Soldiers had come to his home and killed his family. Squatters had come to his home and killed his family. Other bears led the soldiers to the den of this bear’s family and betrayed them out of hopes of currying favor with the soldiers and the squatters. As the bear laid in a heap near the bodies of his murdered family and friends he mourned powerfully for them. His mourning turned to anger,then his anger turned to resolve and his resolve to determination. He would honor his family, his ancestors, his way of life.
After a few days he finally stood up and fiercely roared so all of those in the valleys and hills could hear him. He stood, he stands, he roars.
(C) This document was produced at the request of the Senate Committee on Indian Affairs on July 18, 2019, to document the History, Anthropology, Culture, Religion, and Archaeology of The Chickamauga Nation.