Cherokee Nation and History ·

[elleng]

Jessica Sarah

In the snowy Dakota Territory winter of 1886, two families; one Lakota, one Swedish immigrant; found themselves stranded just miles apart during the worst blizzard in a decade. The Anderssons, new to the plains, had no idea how fast the storm would come. Their oxen froze, their woodpile vanished under six feet of snow, and their baby grew weaker by the hour.
Across the frozen creek, Elk Woman of the Oglala Lakota sensed something was wrong. Her son, Wiyáka, just sixteen, had seen smoke falter at the Anderssons’ cabin. She packed pemmican, blankets, and herbs into a sled and set out into the white silence with him.
They reached the settlers just before dark. The Anderssons, near frostbite, wept in relief. Elk Woman didn’t speak English, but she moved with purpose; feeding the baby warmed broth from a horn spoon, wrapping the mother’s hands in rabbit pelts, and stoking a fire with dried buffalo dung she’d brought from home.
For six days, the Lakota family stayed with the Anderssons, teaching them how to insulate walls wwith snow, melt water safely, and preserve food. On the seventh day, the sky cleared, and they left without fanfare.
The Anderssons would tell that story for generations, though many neighbors never believed it. But their granddaughter eventually found a beaded sash in a box of heirlooms; marked with the Lakota word wówačhaŋtognaka: generosity.

[Traildogbob]

1. If you ever get to

Cherokee while coming through Maggie Valley, for any one of dozens of bike rallies each summer, go to the Cherokee Museum. I took my college students their every year as part of a recreation class in Natural Resources to expose them to interpreter skills they would face in NPS, USFS and state State Park positions they may make a career of. They all left with a better and humbling understanding of what Native Americans were forced to endure.
It also moved me every time I was there.