This post is being sent via my iPad from the "Happiest Place on Earth"--Disneyland, Anaheim California.
Thank you for stopping by to this week's blog hop.
Today's snippets is taken from my Native American novel, "Whisper upon the Water".
Annual Report of the Department of Interior
Gathered from the cabin, wickiup and tipi, partly by threats, partly by bribery, partly by force, they are induced to leave their families, to enter these schools and take upon themselves the outward appearance of civilized life.
CLIMBING OUT of the wagon, I was herded, along with ten other girls, to stand in a line outside the White man's lodge. One of the first girls in the line was very young, and clutched the hand of her older sister. Judging from the long deerskin dresses with flared skirts and wide, long sleeves trimmed with fringe that they wore, I knew the two were Comanche. I eyed the bits of metal and beads sewn on the front of the older girl's dress and glanced down at her buckskin moccasins and wondered whose camp they had raided to gain these adornments.
Comanche. The hatred between our two tribes ran as deep as the gullies that cut through my people's lands.
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(Ginger and Jamie will return next week)