The following story was sent to me by David Bullock.
He asked me if I was interested in placing it on my site.
I said "certainly." Thank you Dave for sharing it with us.
An angry Indian spirit still burns for the oppression her people faced five centuries ago ... and keeps reminding people living today. By David V. Bullock ("Legendheir") Hundreds of years ago, the Spaniards discovered gold and silver in the Rocky Mountains. They enslaved bands of Indians and forced them to work in their mines, digging the mineral wealth out of the ground. When the Indians died from whatever cause, the Spaniards would disrespectfully throw their bodies into a common pit. When the wind would blow out of the southwest, the smell of rotting bodies encircled the Indian's village. Owl Woman, a medicine woman who, even though old, learned the Spanish language over the years as she served the Spanish leaders. She learned that there would be a relief party of new soldiers with wagons coming from Mexico to load up and haul away the treasures that the Indians had dug up at the cost of many lives. Owl Woman left her people and hiked for over a hundred miles across the rugged mountains until she came to the village of a strong band of Indians in what is now known as Spring Lake, Utah. She devised a plan in her journey whereby the Spaniards could be eliminated. Tired and literally on her last legs, Owl Woman plotted with the war chiefs the overthrow of the soldiers. The Indians waited on the Spanish trail. As the soldiers and wagons advanced, they were attacked and slaughtered by the waiting Indians. The Indians then took the clothing, armor, mules and wagons of the dead Spaniards and drove on to the village high up in the Uintah mountains where Owl Woman's people awaited redemption. As the wagons rolled into the Spaniard's camp, the men jumped up, excited to see the soldiers who would relieve them. They were quickly dispatched to the great beyond by the disguised Indians. After the short battle, the horses, mules, dogs and all of the soldiers' belongings were destroyed and buried in the mines that they had forced their slaves to dig. Knowing that she would soon die, Owl Woman took a bone knife and walked to the now covered common burial site and cursed the land that held the rotting bodies of her people, that "no man would stay long on that sacred ground." She then sealed the curse with her life, spilling her blood on the ground. In 1982, I was an engineer working on a power plant in Eastern Utah. I had just moved into a brand new house that some had said sat on or near an ancient Indian burial ground. From that first day, living in that house was terrifying. Footsteps could be heard in adjoining rooms. Upon examining those rooms, nobody would be there. Roommate after roommate would come and go, leaving quickly in the dark of night, some leaving their belongings. I laughed at their silly superstitions. One day, during the Super Bowl, my buddies and I were watching the game in my room, when we heard a terrible crash come from the kitchen. All of the contents of the kitchen cabinets were spilled on the floor. My friends left, leaving me alone to clean up the mess. I was tempted to leave, too, but even though I couldn't explain what had happened, I didn't believe in ghosts. That night, at 1:23 in the morning, I woke up. There was something there, but being tired and not hearing anything, I shook it off and went back to sleep. Then at 1:27, I heard something that woke me up again. It was the sound of feet slowly gliding down the plastic carpet runner in the hallway, outside my bedroom door. As if the sound of the feet dragging across the corrugated plastic wasn't terrifying enough, the sound of an old woman, cursing in her Indian tongue, erupted from the hall. She was so angry. Hiding with the covers up to my eyes, I listened as her feet slowly caused a scraping noise on the plastic. Her anger was evident in the tone of her speech. I was so scared! I now know what it is like to be scared stiff. It, whatever it was, was coming closer and closer to my open bedroom door. I didn't dare move, I was so terrified. I envisioned an old woman with a knife or tomahawk, coming in and killing me there in my bed. After lying there in the darkness, unable to move for what seemed like hours, yet just seconds, I couldn't take it any more. I sat up in bed as her feet left the runner at the entrance to my room.. I covered my head with my hands. At a loss for anything better to do, then, I screamed. "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Silence hung in the air like a rotting stench for as long as I sat there with my head covered with my hands. I finally rose and turned on the light. No one was there. I searched that house, and as I knew they would be, the doors were locked and the windows closed. No one could be in my house....except? I went back to my room closed and locked the door. It took hours for me to return to sleep, and when I awoke in the morning, my door was wide open. I thought perhaps that it was a dream, a horrible, long, realistic dream. Then I saw something on the carpet just inside the doorway. It was a feather. An owl feather. I had heard the legends of Owl Woman from some of the Indian workers at the power plant. They had told me about Coal Miners Basin, the area where I lived, and how spirit dancers would come up from the common grave as balls of light and dance all night long on moonless nights. This was one of those dark, moonless nights. I moved from that house that very day, taking the feather with me as a reminder of an experience that, without the evidence, the feather could eventually be written off as a bad dream.