The Cry of Chief High Cloud©

This is a true story. The person who told it was a girl who had a strange dream one summer night while on a camping trip with her family. Surrounded by the deep woods and the sound of crickets in the air, she drifted into a deep sleep. She found herself alone in the middle of the woods, but not for long. Suddenly, standing before her was the greatest of all Native American chiefs, Chief High Cloud.

“Why have you come to my forest?” questioned the chief.

“Because we love the woods,” said the girl.

“No,” said the chief. “How can you love the woods? Your people have cut down the woods and built big cities with the trees.”

“But we are replanting the trees that we are taking away,” replied the girl.

“No,” said the chief, “ask your teacher. Every year, our Mother Earth is losing more woodlands than are being replaced.”

“But,” said the girl, “we need the timber to build things.”

“No,” answered the chief. “what you really need is to know the needs of the earth on which you and your future children will live. Your people have lived on this land for a few hundred years. My people lived on this land for thousands of years. The trees, the animals, and the waters were our treasures. We lived in harmony with the land. When your people first came, the trees were many. A squirrel could jump from tree to tree and never touch the ground from the Atlantic Ocean to the mighty Mississippi. Our people could drink the clean waters of the rivers, and the animals were everywhere. Now, those animals that are left have few places to live.” The chief bowed his head as tears rolled down his cheek.

“What can be done?” asked the girl quietly.

The chief then pointed to her. “You and your generation of young people must work to restore, protect, and preserve the earth for the next generation, before it is too late.”

“But how can we do that?” she asked.

“You must talk to everyone who will listen. You must …”

Suddenly, the girl was shaken from her sleep. It was her father. “Wake up, Tonya. It’s time to get up.”

“No! No!” she protested. “You shouldn’t have awakened me, Daddy. I was talking with an Indian chief.”

“No,” laughed her father, “you were only dreaming.”

“No, Daddy, it was not just a dream.” She then told her father what the chief had said.

He was quite moved by the story. He asked, “What do you plan to do, Tonya?”

The girl thought for a few moments and then said quietly, “I think I will write a story that many people will read. I will call it ‘The Cry of Chief High Cloud.’”

Now, you know that the girl who had that dream wrote this true story that you have just read. Please believe it and tell others who will listen.

Mother Earth is on her knees
Asking you to save her trees.
Trees Trees