THE OLD CHEROKEE WOMAN
Well, let me tell you the true story of this old Cherokee woman. Well, actually she was "part" Cherokee but could never figure out which part she could say that was Cherokee, so she just went about her life living the best way she could, walking her road.
This old Cherokee woman she loved the woods and rivers - the water - but we Cherokee are kind of fond of water and woods and that sort of thing, and she had a river she loved real well, the mighty Saco, which starts in the White Mountains of New Hampshire and travels down through those Indian lands and then comes into Maine....where it travels along - a beautiful, mighty river and then it empties out into the sea, where the Saco meets the ocean.
Now you ask - how did a Cherokee woman end up in the deep woods of Maine anyhow? That's another story.
So, this old Cherokee woman must have been the exception because she didn't seem to have a good sense of direction. Oh she knew that the river flowed north to south as most rivers do, but then again, not all rivers do. Some run the other way, posing yet another problem for the old Cherokee woman, particularly when she went into the woods in West Virginia where her ancestors settled.
But no one let her go into the West Virginia woods by herself.
Anyhow, the old Cherokee woman loves the woods and rivers and she never goes alone, she always takes along her two friends, Bud the Beagle and Ted, well, he's one of those so-called "fancy" breeds, yappy - but smart - he looks like a fox most folks say, and he's one of those Pomerians.
This one mid-October day, which felt more like late September, she decides to set out for a walk. She had been laid up a while and was just itching to get out into those woods. So, off she heads in that old car of hers, Bud and Ted in the back and oh yeah, a camera in her hand. Old, she is, but she loves the digital age.
This time, the old Cherokee woman decides to venture into woods she has never been in before, but it's along the river, and she knows she can reach it somehow. So, the three of them set off - the old Cherokee Woman, walking stick in hand, camera around her neck, huffing and puffing and talking to herself - reminding herself - to take it slow.
Alright, let's back up here. She's part Cherokee - and then throw into the mix Irish and English and a strong family trait of stubborness, sometimes to the point of being downright foolish.
They walk through the thick woods, down narrow wooded paths, filled with fallen limbs from once strong trees, rocks that cover the ground....this is mountain area after all. She's huffing and puffing - but she can't resist to see what is around the next tree.
Bud and Ted lead the hike - and they continue on, through open fields - a long walk - it's hot - but onward they go. Finally, they reach the end of the open fields and the dogs run down another path. Ah! The river! By this time the old Cherokee woman is some tired.
The dogs take a swim and the old Cherokee woman bends over as much as she's able to and wets her face with the cool water. The river is low but beautiful - shimmering and the early colors of fall grace the banks and surround them. Ah it was worth it all! "But I must rest," the old Cherokee woman tells herself, so she finds herself a comfortable spot to sit - a nice mossy soft spot above the river and just sits.
She's hot and sweaty. Little nats are flying around but she's not about to let that spoil her time there. Then Bud begins to whine. "Stop whining Bud," she says to him. He gives her this look but stops.
It was a good time. But then the old Cherokee woman starts thinking about the return trip. "Ah!" she tells herself. "I'm Cherokee, I'm strong."
They all start back. The dogs are ahead of her, but the old Cherokee woman keeps stopping now and then, to rest, or take a picture. She keeps telling Ted and Bud to wait and she raises her walking stick and shakes it, the bells on it are a sound the dogs know well.
The return trip is tough - she is huffing and puffing and regretting being so foolish as to walk so long and far.
Where are Bud and Ted? No where to be seen! Gone!
She shakes her walking stick the bells resounding through the quiet of the woods - she whistles and calls them again and again - still nothing. She stands rooted on the path, waiting and wondering where are those dogs? She waits and begins to worry.
Suddenly Bud appears - panting - alone. "Where's Ted?" The old Cherokee woman asks. He just looks at her with those hound dog eyes and then sits down in the middle of the path, whining.
Now she's starting to get real worried - maybe something got Ted? Maybe something ate him? Or could he have fallen off the steep bank? She calls and calls and rattles those bells, but no Ted.
She tells Bud to go find him, but he just looks back with those hound dog eyes. So, she walks on - all the time calling, whistling and shaking that walking stick, for Ted. Still no Ted.
She and Bud walk on. She know or thinks she is walking northwest - and she's sure she's on the right path but ummm something doesn't look the same. She hurries onward though, worried about Ted and thinking I'll get to the road and the car and then start searching for him. Suddenly she sees the road - but where is the car? She puts on Bud's leash and then walk out into the narrow road and there's no car - she has gone in the wrong direction once again. Way off. She mumbles to herself and asks Bud what kind of hunting and tracking dog he is anyhow and they head back down the road, because at least now the old Cherokee woman knows where her car is on the road.
Another hike - but at least it's on a flat surface.
She spots the old car parked just where she left it! What's that I see she asks herself, her heart beating so strong - she can feel it in her neck - a mixture of getting ready to fall on the ground and joy - could it be? Is it? Ted! Why it's Ted! Standing right by the car.
There he was, sitting patiently, a look on his face, saying to the old Cherokee woman and the beagle dog named Bud, "where have you two been?"
So, we aren't all born with a sense of direction and I couldn't track a deer's scent if my life depended upon it, but I'll go out into the woods again - perhaps not there, but places I'm more familiar with and let's just say I got one smart dog. The other one, well, ole' Bud has heart, lacks courage, kind of like the cowardly lion on that movie the Wizard of Oz - the original one - with Judy Garland, but he's a good dog.
And the old Cherokee woman? Well, the moral of this story is, don't believe all those things you've read about Indian people, and she needs someone to watch over her with the eyes of the Raven and the intelligence of the Wolf..but she has that, doesn't she?
"A True Story"
And all of us Indians have a sense of direction that we're born with. It's just how it is. Or is it?
There's other "parts" in the mix too but we don't want to get too complicated here.
"The Old Cherokee Woman" © Evening Rain 2001
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