THE TRAIL WHERE THEY CRIED

THE TRAIL WHERE THEY CRIED, NVNADAULATSVYI

"Murder is murder and somebody must answer, somebody must explain the streams of blood that flowed in the Indian country in the summer of 1838. "
The Soldier Who Was Good To Us. (On the Trail)

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I must leave the Georgia valleys,
where the laughing waters run.
I must leave the silent forest,
I must find the setting sun.
No 'pale face' knows the sorrow, that fills a red man's heart.
And none shall know how my soul cries,
When I, in my moccasins, depart.
Perhaps again my arrow will find the buffalo;
Once more the brave may find the warpath,
May vanquish the hostile foe.
The rising sun will call me,
And I shall say farewell, to journey to the west, for in the west I am forced to dwell.
And none who sees me going shall sense my soul's unrest,
Unless, perhaps, some other 'redskin' too, is being pushed west.

A Redskin Departure by J. Dog

We are about to take our leave and kind farewell to our native land, the country that the Great Spirit gave our fathers
We are on the eve of leaving that country that gave us birth......it is with sorrow we are forced by the white man to quit the scenes of our childhood
We bid farewell to it and all we hold dear.

Charles Hicks, Vice Chief of the Cherokees November 4, 1838

Removal Forts in Georgia

THE LEGEND OF THE CHEROKEE ROSE

The Snake Doctor