Indians

The year is 1700, the place is a Saponi
Indian town on the Yadkin River in
western North Carolina. Custoga, Chief of
the Saponies has called a special meeting
in the long house of the tribe council.

  The Indians smoked and chatted for
a long while. Then, as if by some
invisible, signal, silence fell over the
assembly and Custoga began to
speak. In a low, powerfully-projected
voice, he began his message to the
council of Saponi warriors.
  “Tomorrow we join the Occaneechi,
Tutelo, Keyaunwee, and Shakori for
the winter hunt. This time the place is
five suns away. Each winter the
distance is more, the deer and bear
are fewer, and we fight off attacks by
other hunters and watch the smoke
of the cooking fires of the English
houses draw nearer. We are steadily
losing our people to war and
sickness. Now we Saponi are half the
number we were when my son
Kadomico, was born. Even the great
Powhatan are fallen. Only two of
many Powhatan towns and
settlements remain and those are
confined to a small place they call a
reservation. Still the English farmers,
traders, and trappers come west. The
Blue Mountains are now at our backs
and we must find new ways to
protect our people, hunting grounds,
and fields. Tomorrow Kadomico will
go to a place of the English where he
will join their sons and learn about
the talking papers, what they call
reading and writing, and about their
God. They call it school."
  “The English are now governed by
Nicholson and his council in a place
near the Chickahominy. Nicholson
himself asks certain tribal chiefs to
send him their first sons for this
training. He said that they would have
very good food and shelter, all free.
He promised to be ready this summer
with good clothes of the English,
books, and learning. He said they will
have care in health and sickness, that
visits by their families will be
welcome, and that the school will be
open for inspections at all times. And
each can have a servant or member
of his tribe remain with them to speak
their language and be sure they
remember the Indian way. He talked
of what the best Englishmen’s sons
learn as though the same is good for
Indians.” Custoga paused to
emphasize his decision.
  “So, Kadomico will go tomorrow.
Red Wolf and Tree Son will go with
him and one will remain as long as
Kadomico wishes.” Custoga fell
silent, knowing the responses
reflecting these troubled times, would
vary.
  In the soft light of the windowless
long house, oak coals of the dying
fire glowed red under coats of white
ash as the youngest of the six senior
warriors, Red Wolf, raised his
tomahawk and spoke. “This is the
only thing the English understand.
Words, papers, and councils are their
way of fighting for the land and
destroying our people. Before I go to
them, live with them, and learn to be
like them, I will join the French or the
Spanish and fight them. It is better to
die like men than to dwindle away by
little bits.”
  Watauga sitting across from Red
Wolf, reached out with a long willow
wand and stirred the coals
thoughtfully as though their slow
disintegration was a sad omen. “The
time for uniting and fighting is past.
The white man is here to stay and in
such numbers and with such
strength that they cannot be
overcome. Now the French and
English fight each other and we
Saponis must join one or the other or
perish. Custoga speaks wisely.
Kadomico will see the way of the
English, and we will be better able to
protect our people.”
  Custoga was searching the faces
before him for a sign of where this
council would stand on the issue
when Choola rose, stretching to his
full height. His eyes showed plainly
the deep sadness within him as he
began to speak in a low voice,
pronouncing the words evenly. ”
There was no white man when I was
young. The Saponi were many, and
our warriors were strong and feared
by the Mohawk, Seneca, and
Cherokee. They left us in peace
because of our strength. Our hunting
grounds were plentiful, and although
there was often war among the great
Indian nations and many raids of
villages, there was seldom a cause
for the Saponi to take to the warpath.
We have always lived apart from the
great nations and government. Our
town once was settled in the
protective hills of the great
mountains of the north. Our people
grew food in fertile fields and took
meat from the forest and streams,
and it was plentiful. As it was with our
ancestors, so it was with us—when I
was young.” Choola paused in
remembrance, letting the sadness
that gripped him give way to rising
anger, typical of his manner when
this subject came up.
He continued, his voice rising.
“Gradually, our way has changed.
Now our women seek the clothes of
the white woman, cook in copper and
iron and make beds of blankets. Our
braves use fire sticks, iron beaver
traps, and steel tomahawks and
knives and weaken us further
because they are losing the way of
making and using their own hunting
bows and war clubs and seek only
the fire sticks, powder, and ball of the
Longknives. When I was young, the
Saponi were strong and able to
provide for and protect themselves.
Now the great nations of Iroquois,
Cherokee, and Shawnee face the
French, English, and Spanish even
as they face each other to make their
boundaries. Watauga is right, it too
late to turn back, we are too few to
fight alone, and there is no place left
to retreat except higher into
mountains where the land is steep
and the winters kill. Kadomico must
go. He will learn the way of the
English and show the way of the
Saponi. It is a first step."
Choola paused, then looking directly
at his grandson, he began again.
"But let Kadomico understand, we
have seen what happened to Chief
Opechancanough and the Powhatan
people after the English came. After
many years of war, they finally
captured Opechancanough and
proceeded with the destruction of the
Powatan and more than 200 of their
towns. Now the Powhatan are few
and live in a few small places the
English call reservations. So, beware
and let Kadomico understand, the
English will never accept the Indian
as an equal and no Saponi will
accept the English as his master."
" Kadomico will learn the way of the
English and help us find the best way
for the Saponi to protect their people
and hunting grounds. In doing this,
he will not depart from the way of the
Saponi, forget his people or bow to
the English. It must be done, else we
face the fate of others before us—
death by war, disease, or starvation."
The frozen stillness of Choola's face
did not mask the sadness in his eyes
as he eased back to his seat, crossed
his legs and folded his arms. His
words of concession to the strength
of the English fell heavily on the
assembly, men unaccustomed to
conceding without a fight. To them it
smacked of allying with the very
force that threatened them, or worse
yet, submission, heretofore
unthinkable. Anger, sadness, and
confusion stirred among them as
they had listened to these words of
compromise from their most
outspoken and respected old warrior.
Well, in spite of the confusion and
uncertainty they were feeling, they
did understand what Choola had said
and they could wait and see what
would become Kadomico's visit to
Williamsburg.
Custoga sensed the reluctant
acceptance of the council and spoke.
"Kadomico will go tomorrow. Red
Wolf and Tree Son will go with him.
Red Wolf will see the fire sticks,
English warriors and their strength.
And our priests will call on the gods
to stop the white man."