Native Nations, Ancient Paths: The True Story of the Oregon Trail

Previously

…This land was hers, or rather, theirs. The cabin was sturdy, the fields were yielding, and their children were growing strong, their laughter echoing through the newly cleared woods. But the victory felt hollow, tinged with the phantom presence of those who had been displaced. She looked at her hands, calloused and strong, the hands of a pioneer, a builder. But they were also the hands that had, however unintentionally, contributed to the dismantling of another people’s world. The land was rich, yes, but it was also a repository of sorrow, a testament to a collision of worlds, and Eliza, like so many others, was forever a part of its complex, and often painful, story.