Long before there was a bridge or a motel, Indians lived on St. George Island. Balmy weather and abundant seafood lured them there. Somehow, they learned to exist alongside bugs, snakes, and sandspurs. Here and there, are ancient middens (old piles) of oyster shells, covered with sand and vegetation. If you try to dig down in them, you’ll find solid shells all packed together. These middens were the places those Indians sat down to eat. Guess folks have been enjoying oysters since the beginning of time. Of course, in those days you didn’t have to find a parking place or wait in line for a table.
Now, rumor has it that there was an Indian burial ground also located on the island. Years ago, a tribal member lived there and located a few of the middens, as well as the burial ground. He knew this site was sacred, for a hawk flew overhead, screamed at him, and then perched in a nearby tree, shrieking loudly. A large owl then circled over his head, watching him, and finally landed in the nearby weeds. It moved closer, flapping it’s wings and hooting frantically. This was a warning, he believed, from the ‘other side’. You see, this man was dedicated to his old Indian ways and believed the birds were messengers from the spirit world.
One day, this burial site was bulldozed and leveled off for a house. It was an attractive lot, with magnolias, sweet bays, and a large yard surrounding the house. The comfortable, roomy dwelling housed several families over the next few years. And strange things began to happen. One man was concerned about frequent fires in the palmetto scrub. Whenever he’d see one and run out there with his hose, it would disappear. This occurance ceased when he sold the house.
All seemed fine. A happy couple moved in and fixed the place up. They built a workshop out back and planted flowers. Many a time they would fire up the grill for impromptu parties. The man died under dubious circumstances and the place was again put up for sale. That’s when reports of eerie ‘swamp lights’ began. The tribal member became intrigued when he heard of this. He began to watch the area and asked the Great Spirit for answers.
An answer came to him in the form of a dream. In this dream, Indian spirits gathered above the house, chanting and singing mysterious songs. Each one pointed to the old burial site as if to indicate what lay beneath the soil. Then, they each became balls of light and flew off into the sky, transforming into stars. Winking blinking again and again until he woke up and knew what to do. Then, another couple moved into the house. Just out of curiosity, the Indian kept an eye out on what was happening there.
Sure enough, tales of strange occurrences at the house began to circulate around the island. When he ran into the new couple at a local store, they told him about their recent experiences. A rooster had taken to hanging out on their roof, crowing incessantly. A ten foot alligator would appear, then disappear from under the house. These new tenants were becoming alarmed! So he told them what to do about the situation. The ghosts needed to be appeased or they would continue to be restless, he said. The couple listened with great interest, but stopped short of believing in the power of ancient rituals. It was just a little too weird for them.
Shortly thereafter, the Indian moved away, never to be seen again. And sure enough, more eerie things began to happen. A large brown pelican started perching on their porch railing. It just sat there, looking in the window all day long and refused to leave. They banged on the window and shouted to scare it away, but it just kept on staring at them.
One morning, the woman went out to retrieve her newspaper and saw a dark, bumpy tail sticking out from under the steps. She looked closer - right into the grinning jaws of that ten foot alligator! When she called the authorities to come get it, it was gone. Again. The rooster took to crowing at all hours of the day and night. And the pelican came back, looking through the window with those same sad eyes.
In desperation, the couple decided to try the magic ritual and hopefully make peace with those annoying spirits. On the next full moon, they were prepared. They had twelve oyster shells, a medicine bag the Indian had given them, and a rattlesnake backbone wrapped in moss.
The moon rose clear and strong that night. A brisk wind was blowing and chuck-will’s-widows were calling from the brush. A brown owl swooped low over their heads who who-ing over and over. They went out into the yard to an aged oak stump, which was the supposed center of the burial site. They looked both ways to make sure no one saw them out there doing such odd things.
Then, they placed the twelve oyster shells around the stump in an even pattern. They put the medicine bag and the rattlesnake backbone on top of it, walked around it three times, then lit out for the house. Suddenly, the night sky was filled with lightning. Winds picked up and dark clouds rolled in. Thunder shook the earth and sky and it rained in torrents.
The next day, skies were clear. They looked under the house to make sure there was no alligator, checked the porch to make sure the pelican was gone, and looked up at the roof to see if the rooster was still there. Nothing. It was over. The ghosts were at peace. They went to retrieve the medicine bag, oyster shells, and snake bone, but they were gone as well. And they never had any more trouble from the spirits of the burial ground.
