American Indian Ghost Stories of the West. Antonio Sr. Garcez. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Antonio Sr. Garcez
Издательство: Ingram
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Жанр произведения: Эзотерика
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9780974098876
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the man’s body. The hole must not have been very deep because the coyotes soon smelled the body, and dug some of it up. I remember walking by the shallow grave and seeing the dead man’s leg and foot bones sticking out of the dirt. I didn’t see his head, just the leg bones. A few days later, whenever local residents would walk by the shallow grave, they would make sure to carry some rocks with them. They dropped these rocks on top of the grave to prevent the coyotes from digging up more of the body. Eventually someone removed the body, and took it to our cemetery for reburial.

      I also recall, about ten years ago, when a deadly cabin fire took the life of a baby. It must have been a very hot fire because there was nothing left of the cabin but ashes. It was located next to a big field that I used to work in. Well, one night not long after that fire, as I was irrigating the field, I clearly heard the cries of the baby that died in that fire. The cries lasted for about seven minutes. I wasn’t scared, but soon after I heard the baby crying, a pack of coyotes surrounded me. I decided get away from the coyotes. As I began to leave the field, one coyote that must have been the leader, came forward and followed me as I walked away. At the time I was carrying a gun, so I raised the gun, showing it to the coyote. When it saw the gun, it backed away.

      As a child, I grew up knowing the stories of “messengers” that take the form of owls. These owls roost high in the trees. They hoot to get the attention of a person passing by. I was told that this sign is a message to the person, to let them know that something is soon going to happen to them. A death will take place, of a cousin or someone close to the person. Whenever I see these owls, I chase them away. I throw rocks at them until they fly off.

      There were also times when I would see figures of people walking down the road and I would hear people talking behind trees. Even though I could see that there was no one behind the trees, I could hear their voices speaking to one another. All of this never scared me. Recently in our kitchen we have experienced strange things. In the evening, as soon as my wife and I go to bed, noises will start. We’d hear footsteps walking slowly in the living room and then in the kitchen. The ghosts would turn the water faucets on and off, and we’d hear the saltshakers being moved about the table. It’s a real loud noise that the ghost makes. These ghosts seem to always be around. I guess they want to do what they did while they were alive. But like I said, I’m not scared.”

      White Mountain Apache

      (Nde, Indeh or Tinneh)

      The White Mountain Apache have the notable history of being the direct descendants of the original Apache tribes who settled the area many centuries ago. The ancestral homeland of the White Mountain Apache Nation is located in the east central region of Arizona. The Apache are now a nation comprised of several independent bands throughout the Southwest.

      The reservation encompasses 1.6 million acres. It was established by Executive Order on November 9, 1891. Strongly traditional in culture and spirituality, the nation currently has over 12,000 members. Historically, they were hunters and raiders who did some farming, but in many cases carried out raids on neighboring agricultural-based villages for food that they were unable to obtain by hunting. The Apache consider the mountains that surround their lands to be sacred and the source of their spirituality. The Spaniards, Anglos and Mexicans were unsuccessful in their numerous attempts to subdue these true guerrilla warriors. As with almost everything ever written about the Apache, it is important for the reader to question the source of the written word, due in large part to a negatively skewed view regarding the Apache being linked to a vast amount of atrocities. In fact, this cautious approach should be taken when reading most anything printed about Native People—period.

      Today a wide range of accommodations that include dining, shopping and gaming at the Hon-Dah Casino are available on the reservation.

      Catherine Two Bear’s (Apache) Story

      Catherine and I sat under a traditional ramada or patio that she herself constructed of pine poles and branches in her backyard. It so happened that at one particular point in her conversation, where she mentioned encountering an owl, a large yellow butterfly came flutter about her head and landed on her wrist. Without flinching, she looked at me and said, “Antonio, I can see the spirits are with us. This expression is a message being given to us of their presence. I honor them.” After a few seconds of silence, we continued with the interview as the butterfly fluttered away. I’ll leave this image with you to interpret, but personally I am convinced that Catherine and I were both honored with a simple and spiritual expression that day.

      — Antonio

      “In 1992, I was attending the University of Arizona in Phoenix. I was in my senior year and majoring in biology. During the summer of that same year, five seniors (including myself), four graduate students and a professor were conducting fieldwork at Theodore Roosevelt Lake. The Lake is located in the Tonto National forest, about a two-hour drive northeast of Phoenix. Our two-month study and research focused on native amphibians of the lake, specifically bullfrogs. Throughout the years, this particular species of frog had begun to change the ecology of Arizona’s lake and streams. Although the bullfrogs had increased in populations, other smaller native population of frogs was showing the beginning signs of extinction. Bullfrogs have a voracious appetite and will consume anything smaller than them, including snakes, other frogs, lizards and mice. Our focus of study was to specifically record data, and to ultimately discover a link to the bullfrog population explosion.

      Although I enjoyed the research fieldwork, it was wet, muddy, and smelly and I had to wade in waist-deep cold water. In order to catch the frogs, I had to dress in watertight rubber overalls. Also part of my uniform was a net laundry bag, which I tied to my belt, a pith helmet with a flashlight strapped on top, and of course a fish net attached to a six-foot pole. My colleagues and I would get in the water at about eight in the evening and begin our “hunt,” which would last until around ten or so at night. We initiated a process of surprise by which we would catch these fast and alert bullfrogs by slowly wading towards a floating mass of leaves or plants. Using the light strapped to my helmet, I would scan the area until I spotted the bright telltale sign of a bullfrog’s reflecting eyes. Once spotted, I would make my way towards the frog, careful not to make any ripples and, using my fishing net, quickly catch it and place it inside the net bag tied to my belt. This system, although primitive, would bring in about ten to twenty frogs a night per student. Each pair of students had a section of lake in which to capture the frogs. After finishing our work for the night, we would drive back to the lab and place the frogs in a large stock-water tank for study the next day. Our evening captures took place three nights a week. Due to the many frogs in the area, we had enough specimens and paperwork to keep us very busy.

      So what does capturing bullfrogs have to do with ghosts? Well, one evening during a night of bullfrog catching, something very, very strange happened to me. Another girl and I went off for the evening to do the night’s frog gathering. We went into the water at about eight in the evening. The frogs were making their croaking sounds as unusual, and we got right to work. But at about nine o’clock, I began to feel sick. My stomach was turning. I figured it was something I had eaten earlier at dinner. I decided to end the evening’s hunt and get back to my warm bed. I informed my partner that I would be taking the truck, and for her to catch a return ride to the lab with the others. “No problem,” she said. So off I drove. The road was dark. I had to drive slowly due to javalinas (wild desert pigs) and other small desert animals that were out and about. It was summer, so to get fresh air; I had both the windows in the truck lowered. Suddenly, I felt something come in through the passenger side window! Something hit the right side of my body and gave me a terrible scare! I quickly put on the brakes and nervously turned on the interior truck light. That’s when I saw it—a small owl! Apparently the owl had flown across my path on the road, and mistakenly entered the truck through the open window. Well, there it was, on the floor of the truck flapping its wings with its beak wide open. I can look back now and say, that confused bird gave me a good scare! I opened my drivers’ side door and scrambled outside.

      I walked over to the passenger side door and opened it, to allow the owl a way out. But when I opened the door the owl was gone! Where had it gone? I carefully looked under and behind the truck seat,