Week 11 Story: A Ghost Story to Remember
I am a proud Dakota in my village. I'm happily married to my beloved wife, and help support my father in his old age. In my village, there was word of a grave scaffold up on the nearby cliff. There, a Dakota was put to rest by his parents, who built the death lodge to honor him.
One night, while my father's old friends were over sharing a smoke, I overheard their conversation. My father put forth the idea to venture out to the death scaffold and cut off the tent skins for robes. Hearing this, I jumped up into the room and expressed my utter dismay. I had much pity for the poor soul who rested there on the cliff, for his parents had nothing else to give him and left him on the death scaffold.
My father persisted and his friends agreed to venture forth to the cliff to tear apart the skins for robes. Knowing I could not stop them, I reluctantly let them persist with their plan, watching them silently get up and leave into the night. Upon their absence, I immediately search around for a piece of white clay.
Having found a piece of white clay, I spread the clay over my whole body and face, so that I closely resembled the appearance of a spirit. So I set out in the night, racing to beat my father to the cliff where the death scaffold lay. Upon reaching my destination, I lifted the tent skins and snuck in, peering my face out from within.
I watched as my father and his friends came lumbering up the path towards the death lodge. Upon reaching the structure, they sat down, and my father took out his pipe for a smoke. He motioned his friends to join him for a smoke as he offered a smoke to the spirit of the lost soul. As he set down his pipe, my father made eye contact with me as I peered forth from the tent skins. He made quite a commotion and started back down the hill, and his friends turned to see the source of the chaos.
At this moment, I burst out from the tent in my pale disguise and chased after them, watching them frantically scurry down the path. My father's friends quickly fell down off the path, and I ran past them. Wanting to teach my own father a lesson about meddling with the dead, I chased down my father. As I overtook him, my father fell down to the ground, hysterical and crying out for help and mercy. I left him with a message to never visit the resting place ever again or beware of terrible things to come. This left him in a quite a frightful state as I left him on the path.
Upon arriving home, I washed the white clay off of myself and waited for them to come home. Once they had arrived, I teased them about their fruitless venture up to the cliff. To this day, my father and his friends have dared not venture there, fearful of the ghost that had haunted them.
Author's Note: The original story of The Ghost's Resentment tells of a Dakota who died. His parents made a death lodge for him on the bluff, in which was a grave scaffold where he was put to rest. There was also another Dakota in the village, whose father wanted to take apart the tent skins of the grave scaffold for a summer robe. The young Dakota tried to stop him, for he respected the dead and pitied the lost soul. Yet, his father and friends departed nonetheless. So, the Dakota covered himself in white clay, emanating a ghost, and hid in the death lodge. Upon his father's arrival, he leaps out and starts giving chase to his father, giving him quite the scare. His father and friends now never dare venture out to the burial place anymore, fearing the wrath of the ghost again. For my rendition of this story, I opted to retell the story from the perspective of the young Dakota. With this perspective, I was able to capture more of the emotions that the young Dakota felt, mainly the pity he had for the lost soul and respect for the dead. I was also able to elaborate on his actions to teach his own father a lesson, for he emanated the appearance of a ghost and scared him nearly to death.
Bibliography: The Ghost's Resentment from Myths and Legends of the Great Plains by Katharine Berry Judson (1913)
One night, while my father's old friends were over sharing a smoke, I overheard their conversation. My father put forth the idea to venture out to the death scaffold and cut off the tent skins for robes. Hearing this, I jumped up into the room and expressed my utter dismay. I had much pity for the poor soul who rested there on the cliff, for his parents had nothing else to give him and left him on the death scaffold.
My father persisted and his friends agreed to venture forth to the cliff to tear apart the skins for robes. Knowing I could not stop them, I reluctantly let them persist with their plan, watching them silently get up and leave into the night. Upon their absence, I immediately search around for a piece of white clay.
Having found a piece of white clay, I spread the clay over my whole body and face, so that I closely resembled the appearance of a spirit. So I set out in the night, racing to beat my father to the cliff where the death scaffold lay. Upon reaching my destination, I lifted the tent skins and snuck in, peering my face out from within.
I watched as my father and his friends came lumbering up the path towards the death lodge. Upon reaching the structure, they sat down, and my father took out his pipe for a smoke. He motioned his friends to join him for a smoke as he offered a smoke to the spirit of the lost soul. As he set down his pipe, my father made eye contact with me as I peered forth from the tent skins. He made quite a commotion and started back down the hill, and his friends turned to see the source of the chaos.
At this moment, I burst out from the tent in my pale disguise and chased after them, watching them frantically scurry down the path. My father's friends quickly fell down off the path, and I ran past them. Wanting to teach my own father a lesson about meddling with the dead, I chased down my father. As I overtook him, my father fell down to the ground, hysterical and crying out for help and mercy. I left him with a message to never visit the resting place ever again or beware of terrible things to come. This left him in a quite a frightful state as I left him on the path.
Upon arriving home, I washed the white clay off of myself and waited for them to come home. Once they had arrived, I teased them about their fruitless venture up to the cliff. To this day, my father and his friends have dared not venture there, fearful of the ghost that had haunted them.
Ghost - Courtesy of Vox
Author's Note: The original story of The Ghost's Resentment tells of a Dakota who died. His parents made a death lodge for him on the bluff, in which was a grave scaffold where he was put to rest. There was also another Dakota in the village, whose father wanted to take apart the tent skins of the grave scaffold for a summer robe. The young Dakota tried to stop him, for he respected the dead and pitied the lost soul. Yet, his father and friends departed nonetheless. So, the Dakota covered himself in white clay, emanating a ghost, and hid in the death lodge. Upon his father's arrival, he leaps out and starts giving chase to his father, giving him quite the scare. His father and friends now never dare venture out to the burial place anymore, fearing the wrath of the ghost again. For my rendition of this story, I opted to retell the story from the perspective of the young Dakota. With this perspective, I was able to capture more of the emotions that the young Dakota felt, mainly the pity he had for the lost soul and respect for the dead. I was also able to elaborate on his actions to teach his own father a lesson, for he emanated the appearance of a ghost and scared him nearly to death.
Bibliography: The Ghost's Resentment from Myths and Legends of the Great Plains by Katharine Berry Judson (1913)
Katharine,
ReplyDeleteThis ghost story was so good an unexpected. It made me laugh how the son went after his own dad to teach him a lesson. I feel like no matter what age it is always important to have people to teach us lessons. Also, I really like how the boy was defending the dead because he felt bad. Really good story!