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

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…Yet, beneath it all, she heard another sound, a phantom symphony of the land itself: the murmur of ancient rivers, the rustle of buffalo herds, the haunting cry of a hawk circling over untouched plains. These were the sounds of a world that was receding, a world that had been irrevocably altered. And in the quiet of that twilight, Eliza, the woman who had dreamed of a new life, was forced to confront the complex, often painful, truth of how that dream had been realized. The Willamette Valley was her home now, but it was a home built on a foundation of stories untold, of lives disrupted, and of a land that held its own enduring spirit, a spirit that would not be forgotten.