Timecachers (14 page)

“I am not offended, Alice. I was fortunate enough that my family could afford to send me to one of the white people’s schools in Tennessee after I attended the Cherokee school in New Echota. Many of my friends were not so lucky. They did not receive much formal education at all, at least in the ways of the whites, and only know our Tsalagi traditions and language. It was in school where I met and became good friends with Allen Ross, the son of our Principal Chief John Ross. I am in fact returning from a visit with Allen and his father in Red Clay, Tennessee.”

Alice continued her questioning. “You said you were returning with bad news, didn’t you John? What sort of bad news?”

“Part of the reason of my trip was to learn the outcome of Chief Ross’s most recent efforts to preserve the right to remain on our lands. The Cherokee elected John Ross—the Cherokee call him Guwisguwi—ten years ago, even though he is only part Cherokee. He was raised with an understanding of Cherokee culture and also has much knowledge of Washington politics. In spite of all his knowledge and efforts, he was not able to persuade a reversal of the previous rulings.”

“How will that affect the Cherokee living here in Georgia?” she asked.

“Georgia is planning to remove all Indians from its lands and relocate them west of the Mississippi river. In 1802, the U.S. government promised the state of Georgia that it would extinguish all claims to Indian lands within its borders in exchange for Georgia relinquishing its territorial claims west of the Mississippi. A provision of that agreement was that the Indian claims were to be settled peacefully and reasonably. As more settlers came to Georgia, they became more anxious to acquire Cherokee land. Once gold was discovered within the Cherokee nation, the pressure to take the land by force became overwhelming. The ‘reasonable and peaceful’ provision is now being ignored. When Chief Ross returned from his previous trip to Washington, he found that his house and lands had been taken from him and given away in a land lottery, leaving him homeless.”

“My gosh!” said Alice. “Is there no way for him to contest that? He must have something in writing showing that he is the legal owner.”

“His own property is not his immediate concern. Having been unable to persuade the government to prevent Georgia from seizing our land, we will all soon be facing the same situation. This is the news that I must bring to New Echota.”

“How is it possible that they can just kick all the Indians out of Georgia? They want to take away land you have owned for generations?” said Alice.

John nodded solemnly. “For many years there have been disagreements between Indian and white settlers, as I am sure you know. There have been many treaties between the Cherokee and the whites. The Hopewell treaty in 1785 detailed specific terms for preventing the encroachment of our lands, but those terms were ignored. All of the subsequent treaties have been broken as more white settlers encroach upon the Cherokee Nation lands, so it comes as no surprise to most of my people that another agreement has been broken.

“The Cherokee Nation has been strongly encouraged to change our way of life, to adopt much of the white culture, in order to live amicably. We have altered many of our traditions. Most now run farms as the whites do, instead of hunters and food growers as we had been for generations. The newly formed Cherokee government is modeled after the United States government. Many have accepted the Christian religion, and a large percentage of Cherokee can read and write our language. Chief Ross hoped that these efforts would lead to harmony between our people, even proposed a Cherokee state to become part of the United States, but has been rejected at every attempt.

“There is also disagreement about our course of action from within. Some feel that we have no choice except to give up our homelands and move to the west. They believe that is the only way we can continue to exist as a nation. Some have already migrated west, and a small group claiming to represent the entire nation has entered into a treaty with the whites, agreeing to give up our lands in exchange for a token payment and the promise of land in the western Indian Territory. Called the Treaty of New Echota, our Principle Chief John Ross, in his most recent appeal to Washington City, carried a petition signed by nearly sixteen thousand Cherokee people to dispute the legality of the New Echota treaty. Chief Ross was joined by one of your great speakers, Ralph W. Emerson, to present the petition to the new president, Mr. Van Buren. I have already told you of the disappointing outcome of his appeal.”

“That’s so horrible! How could another group,” asked Alice, “agree to a treaty without the consent of the Principle Chief?”

“Our chiefs are not like your president,” John explained. “He is not the ‘boss’ of his tribe; he is more like a counselor who offers his wisdom when decisions have to be made. The people are free to discuss, modify, or even ignore his advice. The chief does not have to approve the decision. Each village has its own chiefs; some who counsel in times of war, and others who counsel in times of peace. Not having a central governing body led to confusion between our cultures. We restructured our government to model the white man’s government, in an attempt to become more compatible. We still retain a very democratic system, however.”

“But our government is a democracy,” said Alice.

“Actually, it is not,” said John. “The United States government is a constitutional republic. While it has democratic elements, it is a nation of laws. The Constitution and Bill of Rights guide the democratic process, and a system of checks and balances within each branch of your government help to prevent the majority from overruling the rights of the minority, and preserve the rights of the individual states.”

“Of course, you are right,” admitted Alice. “I guess my error is the result of living in a large country and being pretty much isolated from the rest of the world. Many of us tend to take our country’s principles of government for granted.”

Tom moved up alongside Alice and John. He was clearly agitated. “Speaking of being isolated, we should have come to a town, or at least crossed several roads by now. I don’t know what this game is, but I’d like some answers. John, I’ve heard enough about Indians; what exactly is going on?” Tom demanded.

Before John could answer, they emerged from the forest onto a well-rutted dirt road about forty feet wide that stretched into the distance, around a bend to the north and into the horizon to the south.

John pointed to the road. “Tom, this is the Cherokee Federal Road. Along this part of the road there are no farms, but in many places the road has attracted a number of settlements, by both Cherokee and illegally by whites. There are no other roads to cross for many more miles, until we get much closer to New Echota.”

“This is nothing more than an old fire road,” Tom snapped back. “I don’t know how, but somehow you are deceiving us about the direction we’re heading in.”

“I have no reason to deceive you, Tom. Does not your device show you are heading in the correct direction? I gather that you are an experienced woodsman. Does not the position of the mountains and the sun in the sky indicate your position to you?”

“Well, yes, it does,” Tom answered hesitantly, “but it’s certainly not believable to me that we have time-traveled to 1838. Why do you accept that so easily?”

“Is it more believable to you that I am somehow controlling the movement of the sun in the sky?” John answered patiently. “It is strange for me as well, since I have never met anyone from a future time before. But if you tell me it is so, I will accept it, as I have no reason to disbelieve you. It is well known that the Tsalagi have a different notion of time than the whites. A typical view of time is along a linear scale, one thing happening after another. An Indian, though, considers time to be more random, sort of like a bouncing ball. Our mythology illustrates this better than I can explain it, but things happen when they happen, not in any particular order.”

Tom offered no reply, looking at John Carter with distrust. The man had some valid arguments, but he wasn’t about to believe that they had traveled in time.

John suddenly looked toward the road and said, “Please, my friends, let us step back into the cover of the woods behind us. I hear the approach of a wagon, and have no way to know if they may behave badly toward us. It would be best if we remained hidden until they passed.”

“Now we’re getting somewhere. It’s probably some hikers or campers,” Tom said. “I think we should flag them down.”

“I would not recommend that. Please,” John pleaded, “at least remain hidden until we can see them. If you recognize them as friendly, you can then show yourselves.”

They moved back into the trees, Tom going along reluctantly. By now, everyone could hear the sound of approaching hoof beats, pounding heavily along the dirt road.

“Just sounds like horseback riders to me,” said Tom.

John shot him an indulgent but stern glance, placing his index finger to his lips. Tom scowled, but complied.

All their attention was drawn to the road. Approaching at a fast clip from the south was a team of four horses pulling a wooden, uncovered, Conestoga-style wagon. Two men wearing military uniforms were driving the wagon, and inside were about a dozen more men. Most of the men were wearing uniforms not recognizable as any branch of service the team had seen before, and the uniform color varied. Most were bearded and ragged, and all were armed with what appeared to be large caliber rifles. The wagon passed quickly, leaving a cloud of red dust behind. For a moment, no one moved. They continued to stare at the receding dust trail, as John said, “I believe it is safe now. It was just a single company of Georgia Militia, most likely heading to the tavern at the old Vann place.”

They stood slowly, brushing the dust from themselves, glancing at each other in disbelief. Tom looked bewildered as he struggled to come up with a reasonable explanation. “Maybe it’s a reenactment,” he said, not sounding very confident.

“A reenactment?” Adam said. “Do you suppose part of the reenactment involves removing the state park or the major highways we should have crossed by now?”

“I don’t know what to think anymore,” Tom blurted. “This is all going way beyond anything I can understand.”

“Let’s not panic,” Adam said as calmly as he could. “I suggest we keep following John, and keep an open mind for now. Tom, you’re one of the brightest engineers I know, so if anyone can figure out what’s going on, you can. Hiking along with John can’t hurt, and may help to clear our minds so we can evaluate what has happened.”

Tom looked at him slack-jawed and shook his head.

“I guess,” Alice offered, “we don’t really have much choice but to go along with it, do we Tom? Our only other choice is to just sit here in the woods. If there’s some devious purpose I’m sure we’ll find out soon enough. Let’s see what New Echota is like. You wanted to visit there anyway.”

“I wasn’t planning to walk. And I sure as heck wasn’t expecting to participate in some sort of historical reenactment!” he said, clinging to his feeble notion.

“Chill, dude,” said Sal. “Maybe we’ll get there in time for a powwow,” he joked nervously. “In a couple hours we’ll all be banging on drums and dancing around a campfire. That’d be awesome; like a native American rock festival.” The team chuckled tentatively. For once Sal’s wisecracking and bad jokes were a welcome bit of normalcy.

“Sorry,” said John in all seriousness. “Not likely to be a powwow, but I am sure there will be nourishment available.”

“I can handle some nourishment about now,” Sal said, “and a nice cozy tipi to take a nap in.” Even in this extraordinary situation, eating and sleeping were a priority for Sal.

“I am afraid not once again, Sal,” said John. “You are thinking of the wrong Indians. Tipis are used by Plains Indians. We live in houses.”

They crossed the road and continued southwest, in the direction of New Echota. John explained that there were no major roads until they reached the New Town Road, but the going would be easy. It was mostly flat, level terrain and open trails. “My detour to the valley of the stone wall made my journey longer, but I felt that my horse needed the rest and medicinal herbs there. I hoped it would be a place I could camp safely and undiscovered.”

“Undiscovered by whom?” Adam asked.

“The Georgia State Militia have been very aggressive to any Cherokee they suspect to be involved in organizational activities. There are also many gold prospectors and settlers who believe they are entitled to their lottery land. It is best for me to avoid just about everyone during these times, which is why I remained concealed when I first saw your group in the valley. My horse is not very good at hiding in the woods, though.”

“I guess he is kind of big to hide behind a tree,” said Adam.

“I must be candid with you, Adam. There is an element of risk for you and your companions in traveling along with me. Our group is probably too large to be harassed by prospectors or settlers, but the militia will not hesitate. They will aggressively question us if we encounter them, and there have been occasions where they have imprisoned whites whom they suspect as being sympathetic to Cherokees.”

“I suppose we might find it difficult to prove who we are, especially if this is really 1838 and we show them identification from more than 150 years in the future,” Adam said.

“Yes, if you have such documentation, I would recommend keeping it well concealed,” John suggested.

“Whadaya mean, Squanto?” said Sal, “Won’t I need my driver’s license to buy some firewater in town?” The others cringed at Sal’s political incorrectness, but they were happy he was beginning to act like his old self. Alice started to rebuke him with one of her expected comebacks, but John Carter began speaking first.