Post by morningstar on Oct 11, 2008 8:34:41 GMT -5
We rented a cabin at the end of September North-East of us...in an area called the Kawarthas (which is a bastardized version of the Native name Kawatha, which means "Shining Waters"). We were on Lake Katchmanooka (means fast moving water) as it once had a river flowing into it before the lochs went in. We did alot of canoeing - and there are many little marshy areas you can sneak into and many little islands dotting the lake. Beautiful!
One of the locals took us on a tour in his pontoon boat and told us the history of the area. He showed us one small island near our cabin...he said there was an Indian maiden buried there...a tragic death...
We thought it might be an urban legend ... but just in case, that evening at sunset we canoed to the island - found a little clearing which had a small plain concrete marker with an old ribbon still tied to a bolt in the concrete (someone in recent years must have put there). We burned incense and paid our respects...then we cleaned up the island.
There is no shortage of ignorant people in the World - and there were beer bottles and pop cans littering the tiny isle. We bagged them up and took them with us. There was a balsam tree next to the spot and I laid some branches over the spot we figured might be the gravesight.
When I got back I googled some info. It turns out that the island was named for a young woman named Polly Cow - she passed away in the fall of the early 1800's. Her father was Chief "Jack" Cow...named "Handsome Jack" by the white settlers for his good looks. He had two beautiful daughters. Polly was known to love to canoe around the area...singing songs and loving life. She caught a fever when she was 16 years old...the medicine men that were called in could not save her and she died one Fall evening. Her father was devastated. He placed her in a birch bark coffin and he and a few others (one was a white man he had befriended - one of the Young brothers who had settled Young's Point when they came from Ireland)...towed Polly to the island. There, it is said, Jack dug her grave himself with is own hands and laid her to rest on the island beneath a balsam tree. That year he would canoe every evening to the island, where he would sit in watch over her grave sight...until finally the ice prevented him from traversing the lake in his canoe. He died shortly after that in 1835...he was never the same man after her death.
Pic of Polly Cow Island (right in the middle).
Sunsets...
As a side note...we found so much litter on these islands. I can't understand why people who go to such natural settings cannot respect them. It is very upsetting to see this. Take your garbage with you!
We also visited the Petroglyphs near Stoney Lake. They are ancient Native carvings in the rock there...considered very sacred to the local peoples. There is a learning center there...wonderful place full of wisdom. The carvings have been dated about a thousand years ago. They are said to tell a story about our future...they are prophetic in nature. There was a powerful feeling to the place.
Anyway...I'll post more on the Petroglyphs later. It's very interesting and like many ancient things around the globe, they tell a story that should not be ignored.
The "time" is at hand.
M
One of the locals took us on a tour in his pontoon boat and told us the history of the area. He showed us one small island near our cabin...he said there was an Indian maiden buried there...a tragic death...
We thought it might be an urban legend ... but just in case, that evening at sunset we canoed to the island - found a little clearing which had a small plain concrete marker with an old ribbon still tied to a bolt in the concrete (someone in recent years must have put there). We burned incense and paid our respects...then we cleaned up the island.
There is no shortage of ignorant people in the World - and there were beer bottles and pop cans littering the tiny isle. We bagged them up and took them with us. There was a balsam tree next to the spot and I laid some branches over the spot we figured might be the gravesight.
When I got back I googled some info. It turns out that the island was named for a young woman named Polly Cow - she passed away in the fall of the early 1800's. Her father was Chief "Jack" Cow...named "Handsome Jack" by the white settlers for his good looks. He had two beautiful daughters. Polly was known to love to canoe around the area...singing songs and loving life. She caught a fever when she was 16 years old...the medicine men that were called in could not save her and she died one Fall evening. Her father was devastated. He placed her in a birch bark coffin and he and a few others (one was a white man he had befriended - one of the Young brothers who had settled Young's Point when they came from Ireland)...towed Polly to the island. There, it is said, Jack dug her grave himself with is own hands and laid her to rest on the island beneath a balsam tree. That year he would canoe every evening to the island, where he would sit in watch over her grave sight...until finally the ice prevented him from traversing the lake in his canoe. He died shortly after that in 1835...he was never the same man after her death.
Pic of Polly Cow Island (right in the middle).
Sunsets...
As a side note...we found so much litter on these islands. I can't understand why people who go to such natural settings cannot respect them. It is very upsetting to see this. Take your garbage with you!
We also visited the Petroglyphs near Stoney Lake. They are ancient Native carvings in the rock there...considered very sacred to the local peoples. There is a learning center there...wonderful place full of wisdom. The carvings have been dated about a thousand years ago. They are said to tell a story about our future...they are prophetic in nature. There was a powerful feeling to the place.
Anyway...I'll post more on the Petroglyphs later. It's very interesting and like many ancient things around the globe, they tell a story that should not be ignored.
The "time" is at hand.
M
