Osage Guideposts by Jory Sherman (reprinted from Branson Living June/July/August 1995: 46-7) Imagine, if you will, these Ozark hills 200 years ago, or more, when there were no houses, no roads, no man-made clearings, no dams, no paths but those made by the deer, the elk and the buffalo. A vast impenetrable forest stretched from horizon to horizon, thick with vegetation and wild game. Water was an important consideration to tribes moving from place to place through these thick woods, and so legend has it that the Osage set up trail markers to help them locate the rivers and streams that traversed the country.
While there were plenty of stones to stack up in cairns for this purpose, this method of marking a trail was too uncertain. Flash floods, wind, game, outsiders, any number of natural occurrences could eliminate such markers.
The most persistent legend regarding the Osage's signposts throughout the wilderness involves their reverence for trees. According to historical sources, the Indians of the region were very superstitious regarding trees. For instance, they would not use wood for bows or utensils from trees that had been struck by lightning. Many of the early pioneers adopted that same belief and did not use such wood.
The settlers who came into the Ozarks began to notice trees that had been bent over and many later came to believe that, because there were so many of them, their occurrence was not accidental. In fact, the trees seemed to be pointing somewhere and when a path was traced from bent tree to bent tree, they ultimately led to a source of water.
I have seen many such trees in the Mark Twain National Forest and have sat on them when hunting deer. They are bent so perfectly and appear pointing in the direction of the White River, which was dammed to form the lakes in this region. The old-timers told me that the Osage people tied [these trees] down when they were saplings and tended them over the years as they grew to maturity. I have walked in the direction the treetops were pointing and always ended up on the shore of a lake or at a spring deep in the woods. Many, most likely, point to creeks that no longer exist, or have changed course over the centuries.
Elmo Ingenthron, the late historian, in his book Indians of the Ozark Plateau, published by The School of the Ozarks Press in Point Lookout, refutes the legend that the Osage or other tribes lashed these trees down when they were small so that they could provide trail markers for the tribe:
Indian suppositions as well as superstitions characterize the extent of our Indian heritage. Trees usually grown horizontally form a vertical base and are often referred to as Indian trail markers. Such trees were probably formed when young saplings were bent over and held in that position by other fallen timber. These usually continued to live and grow in the latter position long after their overburden had rotted way, thus creating spectacular oddities. The location of many of these lends little credence to the supposition. However, the theory lives on and Indian trail markers are likely to exist in the Ozarks for many years to come.
I believe there are too many of these bent trees to account for Elmo's supposition. All the ones that I've seen do point to the old White River. It seems illogical that a line of such trees would accidentally point toward water.
Whatever the truth of the matter is, I look for these bent trees in the woods. When I encounter one, it is easy to imagine a tribe of peoples following a path pointed to by the tree and believe that they understood how long a tree lives and that bending them would cause no harm, but provide not only a marker for descendants seeking water, but a record of their passing.
"The people were here," the trees seem to say, "and if you wish to follow them, look in the direction I am pointing." A romantic notion, to be sure, but if you encounter one of these ancient trail markers, you will know in your heart that they are not bent by accident, but created by ancient pathfinders who made the forest their home.
Photograph of thong tree and article courtesy of Gaye Lisby, Branson Living magazine
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