They say they'll stay and maybe so times will get better. But not, they get worse, and soon big prison pens are built and all Cherokees that won't get up and leave are put in pens, and when cool weather is come, big march for West is made. The General, he says he don't want to shoot Indians with guns, but they must be quiet and don't try to make trouble on trail. Long time we travel on way to new land. People feel bad when they leave old nation.
Women cry and make sad wails.
Many days pass and people die much. My father, now old man, is walking along and all sudden fall down and can't get up. One day he live in covered wagon and is dead. We bury him close to Trail and go on. Three weeks pass and my two brothers and three sisters all get sick and die, and each day until all are dead.