CHAPTER THIRTY

Hannu and Vince learned very quickly that there would be nothing to find with the people of the Caddo tribes. Most were settled in western Louisiana and Texas, but like many other nations, their people were forcibly removed over a lengthy period of time. Now, they were intertwined with tribes in Oklahoma and other parts of the Midwest and West.

When they began to search for the Tunica tribes, they found much of the same thing. There were no information centers or areas where they could learn more other than in parish records and libraries.

“It’s so disappointing,” said Hannu. “I mean, there are native tribes in Finland and other northern European nations. But they weren’t intentionally run from their homes or murdered for land. Of course, some were, but they still thrive today.”

“We weren’t very kind to native nations, that’s for damn sure, Hannu. It’s a miracle that any of them have survived, considering what we brought with us. Diseases unlike anything they’d ever been exposed to. Then, we waged war on them with weapons they’d never seen before. We made promises that we broke, we stole their land, and we’re still trying to make things right. The problem is, they’ll never be right.”

“What about the whole Columbus discovered America thing?” smirked Hannu.

“Natives discovered a lost Columbus,” chuckled Vince. “The Tunica were like a lot of the nations in this area. They were mostly farmers. They did some hunting and fishing, but agriculture seemed to be their thing. They stretched all the way into Arkansas and eventually joined with the Biloxi tribes just to survive.

“Again, it was the French and British that pushed them out of their own homelands. I can’t imagine what they must have thought of the white men,” said Vince.

“I know what I would have thought. Let me find a way to kill them all,” said Hannu. “Someone must know the stories. Someone must have heard this. It feels too important for someone to not remember this. If the French, Spanish, and English were encroaching on all the tribes, and this one young man was trying to stop it, he would have been seen as a hero.”

“We just have to keep trying,” said Vince. “Hey. Look at that?”

Cajun-Creole Grocery – Stories Told for Free

“It’s worth a try,” smirked Hannu. The men pulled in and stepped up on the rickety old wooden porch. The building had definitely seen better days, but whatever was being cooked inside smelled divine.

“Good morning,” smiled Vince.

“Mornin’, boys. How can I help ‘ya?” asked the woman.

“We’re trying to find some information about the Tunica Indians. Not just information, hopefully, stories of their history.”

“Well,” she smiled. “Sit right down. My grandmother was Tunica. I’ve heard a lot of stories.”

“First, what is that magnificent smell?” asked Hannu.

“Oh, a man after my own heart,” she grinned, walking toward the back of the store. She filled two plates with a delicious concoction of rice and beans, slapping a large slab of cornbread next to it. “My own red beans and rice with jalapeno cornbread.”

“Magnificent,” muttered Hannu with the first bite. She laughed, nodding her head.

“Let me tell you a story,” she smiled. “The Tunica were masters of trade, and they knew better than anyone how to work with the other tribes. The French and Spanish figured that out real quick and used them. Used them good. Or bad, depending on how you look at it. The French Jesuits sort of forced them to move their location, but they stayed in the area for a lot of years.

“The one thing they had in common with the French was a hatred for the English slave traders. They tried to work together, but it never seemed to work out for them. In order to survive, they had to merge with the Biloxi tribes. The Spanish and French wanted to meet with the native tribes and, especially, with their chiefs, but they weren’t fools. They sent their sons to meet with them and to try and work with the other tribes.”

“Wait, are you certain of this?” asked Hannu.

“It’s in all the stories. Sons of the chiefs were sent to collectively meet and try to push back the French, English, and Spanish.”

“What happened?” asked Vince. “I mean what happened to the sons of the chiefs?”

“I don’t know,” said the woman, shaking her head. “They obviously didn’t succeed. Most of the tribes moved their villages. Some were completely obliterated by disease. Later, many of the Tunica fought with Spain in the Revolutionary War. They had no love for the British. The Louisiana Purchase helped some. It did try to protect Indian land and their rights, but it didn’t do much for the smaller tribes.

“Making folks aware of the culture, aware of preserving it now is the most important thing we can do. Without it, they won’t survive. There’s a cultural center for the Tunica Biloxi, but I’m not sure you’ll find what you’re looking for.”

The two men nodded as they took the last bite of their meal. Hannu set down two twenty-dollar bills, giving a wink to the woman.

“Forty dollars? This ain’t some high-class restaurant in New Orleans. It’s five dollars a plate,” she smiled.

“Ma’am, you are seriously under-charging,” said Vince. “That was worth every cent. And I would pay triple for your stories.”

“I wish I could help you, but what is it you really want to know?” she asked, casting a wary eye on the two men.

“A body was found. The body of a Native American whom we believe was Choctaw. Due to what he was wearing, we assumed he was a chief’s son, but we know he was murdered, and we think it was another Native American. He had an arrow in his back.”

The woman frowned, shaking her head.

“You have to try and understand. All these white men coming in were confusing. The nations were trusting back then. They had no reason not to trust. If someone were fighting for land or control of land, then they could have easily been swayed with promises. It’s sad, but it’s true.”

“We thank you for your time, ma’am. And the lunch. It was delicious,” said Vince.

“I hope you find your answers. We don’t need any more mysteries in our world. We’ve got plenty.”