Claire Rudolf Murphy

I Am Sacajawea, I Am York – Excerpt

Excerpt from the Book

They call me Sacagawea, Birdwoman. But I am Sacajawea, one who carries a burden. My family gave me this name when
I was only three. The Hidatsa of the Great Plains stole me far away from my Lemhi Shoshoni people when I was only a girl of
twelve winters. I worked in their fields until they sold me to Charbonneau, a French Canadian trader who lived in their village.
Now, in the time of falling leaves, a baby kicks inside me as I watch huge boats approach. Many men with faces paler than
ashes, one with skin like brown earth, and a dog as big as a baby buffalo land on our shores.

They call me York, after my pappy Old York and the York River. On the plantation in Kentucky, Cap’n Clark and I used to play in
the fields and go fishing. In my eleventh summer Master moved me into the Big House and gave me to his son. I’ve been by
Cap’n Clark’s side ever since. On this long journey west to find a route to the Pacific Ocean, I am the only black man.

 

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