To Live Forever Tour Stop: Bear Creek Mound
On April 8, 2012, I posted this story. One of the seeds that grew to become To Live Forever.
I walked around Bear Creek Mound on an early Spring day.
And, I heard someone scream.
**********
Thirteen. Luck caused the chief’s eye to fall on me, a snippet of a girl. Twelve when he raised me to join his band of wives. One revolution around the Great Sun, and he is gone.
And, so shall I be.
Gone.
The throngs have already gathered, feasting on the raised temple mound. Flames dance from the ends of wooden sticks, stuck in the soft earth along the raised edge. The wind from the river blows smoke into my lungs, powdery mist from the pyre that will consume me.
The elders will come for me. I have minutes, perhaps. As the youngest wife of the dead chief, I have the pleasure of being last in line, the final wife to join him in the afterlife. The screams of the others rise above the festive sounds wafting from the mound. One by one they die.
We die.
Strangled.
On a single bier, they will carry our lifeless bodies to the center of the mound. Together, we will be gathered in the chief’s house. A flinty strike will consume us, and the waves of smoke will bear us from our sacred mound through a portal to the afterlife.
They’re coming for me now. I wonder? Will anyone stand on this mound a thousand years from now and think of me? Hear my dying breath exhale through the black tunnel of time?
**********
If you look closely, you might see a child on top of Bear Creek Mound. A child much like Emmaline.
Click here to see the best photos from Day 27 of my Natchez Trace 444-mile walk: Andra Watkins Tumblr
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Dad wants you to read this book. Seriously. The force of his will has been enough to sell boxes of them to poor souls all over three states. To Live Forever: An Afterlife Journey of Meriwether Lewis is available in paperback and e-book formats at these outlets: Click to Purchase To Live Forever.
Today’s Reader Question. The one where we play footsie.
The Accidental Cootchie Mama 
Ouch! both for you and for the young bride. Although I’m familiar with East Indians sending brides with their husbands I wasn’t aware that American Indians practiced that as well. Which tribe is the mound attributed to?
This mound is Mississippian, pre-dating the Chickasaws that came later.
Really interesting.
Or crazy.
Or crazy
I love the snickery smile after you show us your feet. That’s gonna keep me grinning all day.
We had to have a tour de foot on this trek, didn’t we?
Beautiful post!
And thanks for the video tour of your feet. Wow! They’re like soldiers in a battle–wounded by still walking.
I sometimes wonder if they will ever look the same, Linda. But I’m sure they will eventually.
Haunting – can’t see ghost the child bride, except in my mind’s eye, but still haunting.
There was a child playing on top of the mound in the photograph. He blends into the trees.
Oh, duh! 🙂 oh well, my bad old eyes didn’t see him either!
oh Andra…please pamper those feet the second you hit mile marker 444…
I’ve lollygagged and fear I have missed the window for a good spa appointment in Nashville, but we’ll see tomorrow.
Fingers crossed for you.
I tried staring at the mound, but couldn’t bear to after a while. 😀
Get it? Get it?! Bear! Ahahahahahaha…
*sigh*
I snickered, Nate.
Andra,
If your intent was to provide a shock first thing in the morning with your latest YouTube clip, it worked. I opened WordPress and at the top of the reader was your grinning face with a cheap hotel room picture and headboard as a back drop. Bates Motel by chance?
Patrick
It wasn’t the lap of luxury, but it was a good place, and the owners were really, really great. Not at all Bates Motel.
Nice people can make all the difference in the world.
Katie had the right word, “haunting.” This story will haunt me forever. As will your feet 🙂
My feet may haunt me forever, too.
ha ha ha … that’s perfect 🙂
Grossssssss!!!
I love to gross you out, Carnell.
The joy of victory, the agony of de-feet. Sorry. Commence groaning.
It’s mostly the agony at the moment. Round two of soaking commences shortly……with your book.
Shivers! For your story, the mound and of course…your feet!
My feet need to be shivered over, Lisa.
Oh dear – I applaud you even more for continuing your walk. My feet hurt just looking at your video.
I felt pretty proud today when a strapping man told my dad that he started to walk the Trace and gave up good and quick. 🙂
Driving it would be challenge enough for me
Owowowow!
Don’t humans have absurd customs – to this day. And, some of them as cruel.
I’ve never understood the human sacrifice custom, but I know it’s been pretty widely practiced throughout history.
Oh, aren’t you glad you asked, Pamela? (And by the way, my sis and I just realized a few days ago that you’re practically a neighbor…:) ).
I, too, was unaware of the practice of sending the wives to the hereafter along with the chief; who then was responsible to care for their children? Another story?
I didn’t research things that far. Perhaps another story.
Oh man, Andra! No one can ever accuse you of not being dedicated to your craft! WOW! If this were me, I would rent a Segway for the rest of the miles on the Trace!! 😦
But I have so few miles to go at this point, Maria. I may as well walk them.
I suppose you are right, but those poor feet! Mine hurt looking at yours.
sad and scary. and i’m talking about the story as well as your feet. stayed up late and finished the book last night. loved it, and review coming later )
Thanks for reading it, Beth. It won’t haunt you like my feet might……..
Your “bloody bits” made me snort. Am I supposed to laugh at that? Well, I did.
Laugh away. I did. 🙂
It just looked at the radar……I can see why your taking a day of rest tomorrow! Relax!
Oh! Your poor feet!
OUCH!
When you get back to Charleston, here’s a restaurant worthy of a celebration:
http://www.magnolias-blossom-cypress.com/cypress.asp?catID=20434
I admire your sense of humor and little to no ego. It makes your blog great.
“The thrill of victory… and the agony of de-feet!” Indeed. Ouch. I bet you’ll scream like in that story when you’re on a real vacation with MTM someday and you’re in some diner or wherever having breakfast and some local suggests you walk a mile or two to see the sights. Your feet will scream too and kick you from under the table…
I loved your book, couldn’t put it down, read it in two days. Found out about it from my dear friend Penny O. I hope you sell many books. Its a page turner for sure.
Your story gave me shivers when I read it the first time, and again this time. I can only imagine that you are sensing those same spirits as you travel your 444-miles. Your poor feet give me me shivers, too. Or would that be shudders! Oh my dear!