I decided to clean the basement, where I never spent time. I turned on the light and carefully walked down the stairs. The room was drafty, and mostly empty. My old bed from when I was younger was there, along with piles of old possessions I hadn’t seen in years. I started stacking boxes near a wall—all the framed pictures, old newspaper clippings, toys. There were boxes of Christmas decorations, tinsel and ornaments, colored bulbs, and old-fashioned magazines. There was a shelf holding some books, two empty cans of paint, and some old paintbrushes. There was a half-eaten cube of mouse poison and an old mousetrap from when I had mice last winter. I swept and dusted until the entire basement was neat and tidy, and afterward I removed all my clothes and got into bed with my Colette book and was quite happy.

Tsala

FOR MOST OF MY LIFE I was not an angry man. I never expected to feel such fury, but the earth sent us warnings: there was a drought. The summer solstice had burned up the soil, and one could taste dust in the air. The wind rose up and howled. Beloved, it was crucial we paid attention to these warnings. We knew the time was near.

Our prophets, too, had warned of the soldiers coming to remove us from our land. This was a terrifying time. We were frightened but ready to defend our home. Our people would refuse to leave, even though we had been tricked by the government with their fraudulent treaty. We did not trust them. It was a time, too, for hope. Some of the missionaries introduced us to the Christianity religion and read from the book of Matthew as it had been translated by one of the men from New Echota. We discussed peace and sacrifice. We also talked about the treaty and our humility. During this time, I saw visions of the dying before I understood what it means to die.

VISIONS OF THE COMING SOLDIERS

The night before the soldiers arrived, I looked up to the yonder sky, where I saw visions of the dying. I saw people walking alongside oxcarts, carrying their children and their food while soldiers sat in wagons with their guns. I saw the fighting of warriors and soldiers across the land as my people hid in the bloodstained grass. I saw people dying of starvation and disease. I saw the slaughter of the fattest cattle and the passing of the war pipe while our people mourned for the dead. I saw horses dying and snakes lying in the red dust at night. I saw a deaf boy running through a field while soldiers called for him to stop; when he didn’t, they shot him dead. I saw the burning of ranches and stage stations, and afterward the feasting and dancing. I saw a wind sweeping down into a dead body and giving birth to an eagle, who flew away into a red dawn. I saw bursts of fire in the sky and bodies trailing away like smoke. I saw deer and smaller animals running toward the mountains.

Later in the night I woke to the drumming of spirits, or so I thought. I walked outside to look to the trees. The drumming stopped, but I saw nothing. I looked to the sky: there I saw the great blacksnake, the screech owl, the horned owl, and a group of people walking, all moving toward a giant tree in the sky. The tree was on fire, and burning so fiercely I could feel the stinging in my eyes as I watched. Then smoke began to cover the people, and the ashes fell from the sky like falling stars. I had to cover my eyes and go back inside, where I lay awake until dawn. My wife said this was a strong vision of what was coming our way. All the pain and suffering. All the walking, all the deaths.

I, too, dreamed of soldiers arriving in Kusawatiyi, and I knew then that we needed to go to the mountains, where they wouldn’t find us.

THE YUNWI TSUNSDI

The Yunwi Tsunsdi were believed to be Little People living in the mountains, which worried many of us. You could hear drumming coming from the caves there. Some believed it came from these spirits, as they were quite fond of music and dancing. They had lived there even when our ancestors were alive. In the time of the smallpox epidemic, a hunter in the middle of a snowy winter afternoon found small footprints leading to the mountains, which he believed were the footprints of children. Concerned that these children were freezing to death, he followed the footprints to a cave. A few days passed. People began searching for him, thinking he had been eaten by a bear, but when he returned a few weeks later, he told them that he had become ill with smallpox, and that the Yunwi Tsunsdi people had taken care of him until he was feeling well enough to leave.

They were no taller than his waist, he said. They comforted him. Their hands and eyes were fire. They were nocturnal, night travelers like owls, and did not wish to be seen. Their teeth were crooked, their eyes bulging. Our people say that if you hear music and drumming coming from the mountains at night, it is likely the Yunwi Tsunsdi. No one knows why they are so secretive, but you can hear them in the mountains. We would soon come to know the mountains very well. The mountains were as mysterious as the Yunwi Tsunsdi.

But here is an important story of the Little People: in the beginning, people started to believe that the sun was growing angry as it grew hotter outside, and they feared the world would burn during a drought. The land went one hundred days with no rain. The grass and crops were dying, the rivers were drying up; even people were dying during the hottest days. What do we do? people thought, and decided they would go to the Little People in the mountains and seek counsel. When they arrived, the Little People told them that the sun was jealous of the moon because people loved to look at the moon, and they squinted at the sun. The sun did not understand its power over the earth, only that it provided light, which was a good thing. It could not understand why people were so afraid to look at it, shielding their eyes and spending time in shady areas.