My name is Luksi Humma, I am Choctaw or, Chahta, our name in reality. I am a detergent builder of people and log cabins. Although, I dwell in our present time, I speak to many people who come up to Historic Prophetstown, in Battle Ground, Indiana, about the manner the Old Ones lived, and died.

Misconceptions, are a portion of most Americans ideal in sees to Native American People. It is my occupation to inform the uninformed, about the Love, Respect, Honor, and Dignity the American Indians had for their Families, Lives and the Land.

How did the People dwell along the Wabash? They lived well, commerce continued to flux throughout the part as our People
moved forward into an age that would eventually get down them up, swirling them into the Great Thaw Pot of these United States. This movement inexorably changed the Way of our People, both, in their idea processess, and in their Hearts.

The Europeans who lived with the Indian People would change significantly, day-to-day movements, personal contacts, language, life styles and much more. Pressures of being humans, finding a much easier manner to cook, kill, stay warm, communicate,
traveling and live, ate away at the Traditions of 10 thousand generations.

Robust in their spirits, Native People adapted rapidly, and establish value in their trapping of Beaver, and other furbearing animals. Trading these hides, for lasting goods, gave the Indian People an chance to dwell more than comfortably, amidst the French, English, and some Americans, who became their trading spouses in this region, for many years.

Log Cabins were abundant in the Village of Kethtipikanuck, about 120 log constructions as some authors saw it. Shingle roof herpes zoster adorned the cabins, of those lucky folks who knew how to, and, had the adult male powerfulness to construct these beastly structures. Forged from the wilderness, these people were powerful and grim in their volition to do life come up forth, from a forboding entity, that the wilderness posed. This was, after all, the Northwestern United States Territories. The end of the continent for most people who struck out on their own.

This wonderous small town had many Wigwams, fume filling the air on the flats at the oral cavity of that river. Trade points coming in, and leaving, in boats of every description, dugouts, birchbark, heavy river tugs. One should seek to conceive of this commerce, it is pleasing to see it in the mind.

Eleven old age of good life came to an end, as the wood of their cabins and wigwams lost their conflict with the melting pot of fire, which the American Army brought with them, to eliminate their manner of life forever.

This is but the beginning of their story, I will compose more than of this facinating historical drama, played out on the Banks of the Wabash. Prophetstown, looming in the hereafter expects the revealing of its story in another time, but now I am tired and must rest.

Luksi Humma courier of the People.