Over and In the Wounded Knee

The Wounded Knee Creek flows right through the middle of the family ranch, which borders South Dakota to the north. The ranch, which is used by various extended family members for hunting and vacations, has been one of my favorite places ever since I visited there for the first time, nearly 60 years ago. Now, my grandchildren are the fifth generation of our family to explore everything the ranch has to offer, next to, over, and even in the Wounded Knee.

As soon as we arrive, sleeping arrangements are negotiated--some in the main house, and others in the bunkhouse nearby. Then, the kids all beg to go down to the swing, hanging from a 150 year old Cottonwood tree that sits on the creek bank. On the Sunday afternoon before Memorial Day, Bill and I arrived a little earlier than the rest of our crew, so as soon as Bill turned on the electricity and primed the pump so the plumbing would work appropriately, we transferred the food from our cooler to the refrigerator, and headed down to the swing.

The rope was still hanging there, suspended from a branch high overhead, where assorted daredevils in the family had attached and reattached it over the decades. I retrieved the notched board from where it was leaning against the tree, and inserted it into the loop of the rope. Then Bill gave me a push, high over the creek below. I am certainly not the oldest person to use that swing, but I rarely get a chance when the grandkids are around.

                    

    

As soon as the rest of the family arrived and stowed their gear, everyone headed down to the creek. That afternoon, the kids were content to take turns swinging, while exploring the creek bank and railroad tie bridge. After supper, we hiked down to Lee's Bridge, where we crossed the creek and hiked a bit farther up a cowpath, but the six curious bulls who were pastured there were following us a little too closely, so we headed back to the houseyard for s'mores and a little tree-climbing before bed.

Memorial Day turned out to be a gorgeous day to spend outdoors, so that's just what we did. Most of the day was spent at the creek, swinging and scouting out the whole area. It didn't take long for all six of the kids to wade right in, exploring as they bounded along. 

 

The boys found the remains of an ancient vehicle, which instantly became their time machine, Evie spotted a fish, "this big," and Ruthie learned all about leaches, first hand, when two of them attached themselves to her foot. 

Lydia's pet leach. 

 

The four oldest kids climbed the cliff while the younger two watched in awe.

 

Then the oldest kids found a deeper part of the creek, right at the base of the cliff, 

where they splashed and romped for a long time.

After supper, Tobin found my dad's old screen boxes in a shed, so we all hiked to the top of the other cliff, carrying a couple of shovels to help in our search for Indian artifacts. A hundred years ago, and more, the natives camped on the top of the highest hills or cliffs so they could see when anyone was coming. The creek at the bottom of the cliff provided ample water for both people and livestock, and attracted plenty of game for them to hunt. 

Decades ago, my dad and uncle used their makeshift screen boxes to sift through shovelsful of dirt at the top of the cliff. My kids were always excited to help. Mostly, they found items that had been discarded by the natives long ago--broken pieces of pottery and bits of bone leftover from their meals, broken arrowheads and knife tips, scrapers, and other tools. Occasionally, Dad and the others would find intact arrowheads and tools.

    

That evening, the kids were elated to find a few pieces of broken pottery, some scrapers, and a few bone shards. The next morning, Tobin insisted on taking some more time, before we left for home, to hike back to the top of the cliff to resume his excavation. That day, the kids found even better stuff--some larger pieces of pottery and bigger scrapers. Their great-grandpa would have been pleased.

The earth is the Lord’s, and everything in it.

The world and all its people belong to him.

Psalm 24:1