Little Toe
Tale no. 19 – ‘Little Toe’ ‘The year was 1790 and I was in a spot of bother in the Smoky mountains. I had been captured by the Cherokee Indians as I was attempting to sell guns to their rival tribe, the Shawnee. As the Cherokee braves led me, bound and tethered to a rope that was trailed behind one of their horses, into their camp, I could see from the look on the fully headdressed Cherokee Indian Chief’s face that he was not best pleased at me! He barked an order at his braves, and the next thing I knew I was unceremoniously stripped of my shirt and tied upside down to a totem pole in the middle of their village, my upside-down face resting just a few inches above the dusty ground. I thought they were going to kill me, but my Cherokee masters were nothing if not merciful. Instead the Chief barked another order in the Cherokee language, and within seconds a row of about 50 eager, young, native-American women were lining up beside the totem pole, giggling and laughing at the paleface