Chapter 8~Native American Ghosts

The stories of sacred burial grounds proves to be true

I lived in Seattle at the time this takes place. I had some business in Spokane that was going to require an overnight stay there. A friend of my daughter owned a house in Spokane that was sitting empty and said I could throw down a sleeping bag on the floor and save some money renting a motel room. I accepted his kind offer. I had visited at this house when my daughter lived with him there. But they had moved to Seattle and I was staying with them in Seattle, but moving into my own apartment.

It was late at night when I arrived at his house. I had just drifted off to sleep when I was awakened by the sound of bell jingling and gourd rattle shaking. I lifted my head to try and determine where the sound was coming from. It seemed to be coming from about 50 feet below the ground!

Shared with Flock - The Social Web Browser


As I listened a mournful wail joined in and voices began chanting in sort of a monotone, sing-song fashion. I was mesmerized. Then in my mind's eye I saw a grieving Native American woman. It was her voice wailing. Somehow I knew the story of her grief.

Her son was killed, but not as a brave warrior in some battle, which added shame to her grief. The death was accidental. I got the sense it happened on his first hunt, part of a ritual rite of passage from boyhood to manhood. He got too close to a stampeding buffalo and was trampled. You have to be able to get in close enough to make the first shot count by shooting the arrow into the buffalo's heart. Being inexperienced caused his death.

When I got back to Seattle, I said to my daughter and her friend, "All the years I visited you at your house and you never once told me about your Native American Ghosts. They looked at each other. Then he said, "Apparently my house was built where a sacred burial ground used to be." I responded, "That explains why the sounds seemed to be coming from 50 feet below the ground. Then I started describing what I had heard, but before I could get to the part about the wailing woman my daughter jumped in and started describing the woman ghost. It was the exact picture that popped into my mind's eye.  She continued on with the story of why the woman was grieving. It was exactly as I had seen it.

Dear reader... I know you are not going to believe this, but as I was writing this a Native American ghost just did something. I heard something behind me. It sounded like something fell onto the floor. I turned and saw a small stone on the floor.

This is very significant, not only by the fact that I have no idea how the stone got there on my floor, but by the fact, that my sister, who wrote a novel about Native Americans and is in the process of writing the sequel, did a lot of research about them and their customs. One custom called "woman medicine" is for a brave to throw a stone with roots and other symbols glued to it at a woman they wish to court. If she comes to his tent and smiles at him, he knows the medicine has worked. If she does not, then he plays a "love flute" to lure her to his tent.

I don't know if they have any other stone throwing customs. This stone was just a plain small stone with nothing on it. I think it was used as a way to get my attention and let me know a Native American ghost is in my presence and aware that I am writing about Native American Ghosts. Goosebumps!

Reviews

[Boldpen]

I believe it... and ghosts are definitely there. Great write!