James Robertson had died in 1814 at the age of seventy-two, among the Chickasaws, and his body, like that of his fellow pioneer, was buried in an Indian town and lay there until 1825, when it was removed to Nashville.
What of the red tribes who had fought these great pioneers for the wide land of the Old Southwest and who in the end had received their dust and treasured it with honor in the little soil remaining to them?
Always the new boundary lines drew closer in, and the red men's foothold narrowed before the pushing tread of the whites.

The day came soon when there was no longer room for them in the land of their fathers.

But far off across the great river there was a land the white men did not covet yet.

Thither at last the tribes--Cherokee, Choctaw, Chickasaw, and Creek--took their way.

With wives and children, maids and youths, the old and the young, with all their goods, their cattle and horses, in the company of a regiment of American troops, they--like the white men who had superseded them--turned westward.