Before any white man saw the land between the rivers, the Chickasaw Indian nation inhabited the region.
Wild game, water, and shelter were plentiful. They coexisted with nature. During the westward expansion of pioneers via the Tennessee and Cumberland Rivers, Scotch-Irish settlers discovered the land between the rivers, and President Andrew Jackson negotiated
the Jackson Purchase with the Chickasaw nation. The Chickasaw asked and received $300,000 payable in gold. This Jackson Purchase Treaty gold was reported to have been buried by the Chickasaw near a site known as the Three Sisters Spring between the rivers. It has never been recovered, and today the site lies beneath the waters of Kentucky Lake.


Raccoon an’ bobcats running’ free,
Their speed a natural pace,
Lived their lives with the red-skinned breed,
The so-called savage race.

Drums echoed through the riverside hills,
As the ancient race would pray
To their eagle totems and spirits above,
To guard and keep their ways.

The art of fire and simple skill,
The makin’ of a bow,
The tracking’ deer by pale moonlight,
The stalk of buffalo.

In days before the white man came
To the dark and bloody land,
The Chickasaw roamed the Greenwood fields,
An’ fished the rivers’ sand.

The forest and the shoreline men,
As wild as free-born deer,
Could hunt and fish and make their homes,
Beyond the reach of fear.

Nature’s way was the Chickasaw breed’s,
To live in peace, their life,
But then one day came the white man’s way,
An’ to this peace brought strife.

Roamin’ through the Greenwood’s land,
Were deer and buffalo,
But progress came to kill the game,
To make the red-man go.

Eagle’s flyin’, a free man’s sign,
A totem for Chickasaw,
Watched up high in the Greenwood sky,
An’ heard the white-man’s call.

A call that rang of settled ground,
Too safe, no longer wild.
A call of death for the red-man’s ways,
A death of nature’s child.

At first whites came but passed on by,
But then a cabin or two
Grew into camps for the strange pale breed,
An’ settlin’ numbers grew.

A land too tame for the Chickasaw
Beginnin’ to lose his game,
His people dyin’ of the whiteness ills,
The sounds of strange tongued names.

To die a death in fevered pain,
To burnin’ chills give way,
Forced Chickasaws to sell their land,
To take the white-man’s pay.

Three-hundred thousand in gold, the price,
The treaty-deed was signed,
An’ they buried their gold in the red-sand earth,
An’ left it there behind.

They moved to lands much further west,
Again to peaceful ground.
So the Greenwood Land was bought by whites,
But the gold was never found.

Raccoon and bobcats runnin’ free,
Their speed a natural pace,
Lived their lives with the red-skinned breed,
The so-called savage race.


No part of this book should be copied, reprinted or reposted without permission or consent of Lynn M. Hodges.