by J. J. Park
Next was preparing for the hunting; they marked several miles of driveline with stone cairns then wedged in sticks and brushes to resemble barriers. All was ready, and now it was just a matter of finding the buffalo herd.
The night before the hunt, they held a pre-hunt ceremony; eagle bone whistles, drums, and rattles accompanied dancing and chanting. A medicine man prayed to the Great Spirit.
The next day, men found the buffalo horde a mile away from their habitation, and immediately the chase was on. At the start, buffaloes ran in all directions, spooked by loud calling, pointing spears, and running horses.
Nonetheless, when a young buffalo runner ran to the cliff through the driveline, making a lost calf call, the herd followed. Men in wolf skins chased behind, imitating wolf packs.
The hunting was a big success, augmenting the thrill of the chase. They worked until almost daybreak, carting and dividing meat among all tribal members. Women hung sliced buffalo meats on wooden bars next to cornhusks, beans, and squash, ready for harvest.
A celebration followed for three days with feasting, dancing, singing, horse and foot races, jumping, and wrestling. Buffalo meat accompanied by vegetables, berries, seeds, and fruits warmed every participant’s heart.
At another time, Dyami was among warriors on a hilltop looking down at the Comanche band moving forward. Armed with spears and arrows, they were formidable enemies. Feeling overwhelmed, a warrior said,
“Chief, their numbers are far greater than ours.”
“Forward Apache!”
Despite the concerns, the chief shouted and charged forward, raising the spear above his head held up high. Encouraged by his commanding form, Dyami and warriors followed.
Fierce combat ensued: warriors darted forward, arrows and spears flew, horses squealed. In the end, the large number of Comanche band overpowered them, and the battle ended with invaders raiding their homes.
Another disaster soon followed before Dyami could recover from the traumatic defeat. People died of a mysterious disease.
They were healthy people with a wholesome lifestyle. Brutal winter chill and summer heat did not affect their robust constitution, but now they were dying like grasshoppers. Dyami walked from one teepee to another, wanting to help.
It all began when one of the warriors unknowingly traded with white settlers deerskins for germ-tainted blankets. Whoever used them fell deadly ill. The old Native American remedies and the prayer of the medicine man had no effects.
The worst still was the heavily armed United States (US) Army on the march, cornering them to the terrain where there was no escape route but a cliff. They were brave and formidable warriors, but their arrows were no match for guns. It was a battle, the only outcome, a sure defeat.
Suddenly, Dyami found himself floating in the air with his horse.
SUN GOD AND MYTHICAL HORSES
Dyami was flying on a large horse’s back through the thick and heavy air. Between clouds, he could see red and black volcanic lava flowing down the mountainside below. Dark smoke spewed into the air, and the poisonous air entered his lungs.
Dyami still felt his horse jumping from the cliff and floating in the air. Now, he found himself on a great winged horse, flitting through the toxic atmosphere. The dense cloud muffled the horse’s flapping wings, but he could feel its subtle movement. It was a magnificent flying stallion.
He examined and touched the horse’s head and shoulder and listened to its breath. “Lato?” he called out, hoping Lato had suddenly acquired wings. No answer. Lato would have neighed and nodded his head in response. Nevertheless, he felt secure on its back.
The flying horse gave him a clue that he was in a mythical time, and it gave him an idea to talk to the horse.
“Can you talk? Can you understand me?” Dyami ventured.
“Yes,” the flying horse answered.
“Oh, what’s your name?” Dyami pressed.
“Arion,” the horse said.
“I am Dyami. Where are we going?” Dyami asked.
“We’re on the way to sun-god to see what’s happening.”
“Sun-god? You mean, Apollo?” Dyami exclaimed.
He loved the story of Apollo, the Olympian sun-god. Arion did not answer, but it did not stop Dyami from conjuring Apollo at his Olympian residence.
“At the end of the day, Zeus and Leto wait for Apollo
to return from the hard day’s work. Finally, he enters,
carrying the golden bow and silver quiver.
He has just finished driving the sun to the end of the western sky.
Zeus takes the bow from Apollo and hangs it on the wall.
Leto and Hebe serve him the nectar of god.
After refreshed by the ambrosia, Apollo plucks on the lyre.
Muses join in and sing paeans.
Soothing sound and sweet scents fill the dwelling of Olympian gods.”2
He found many stories of Olympian gods humanistic and amusing. The account was his own story.
“Did something happen to sun-god?” Dyami asked.
“The sun-god had not returned to the East, keeping the world in darkness,” Arion answered.
“Where would we find him?” Dyami asked.
“We have to pass this nether region.”
Dyami shivered in fear, hearing “nether region.”
“Hold on tight to my mane.”
Arion said, sensing his fear. Just then, a gigantic shrieking bat flew over his head.
“Hold on,” Arion repeated.
The bat almost touched and grabbed Dyami’s head. Dyami lowered his head to Arion’s neck and tightly held onto his mane.
Next, a dragon with a fire tongue flew over, followed by armies of devil birds with large lashing wings and blade sharp beaks. Arion dodged the flame and sharp beaks quickly.
These savage creatures attacked them ferociously but always fell short of reaching them. However, in the end, the constant badgering exhausted and overwhelmed Dyami, and he felt unable to cope with it. Opportunely then, as if to sense his distress, oppressive clouds lifted, and the bird’s attack diminished.
Shortly, they were out of the nether region, and Arion now flew through the fresh cold air. Before long, near a mountain, Arion detected the sun-god and his treasures, the five horses named Turquoise, Pearl, White, Red, and Coal.3
It was disconcerting to see the sun-god on the west side instead of his home in the East. His daily routine was to carry the sun across the sky, East to West, then return East at the end of the day to rest and resume the walk the following morning.
Arion landed near the sun-god with his head down in deference to him. Dyami dismounted Arion and saw the sun-god was an older man who had neither the golden bow nor silver quiver as Apollo would have.
“Lord, the world is too dark and too cold. It needs the sun to give warmth,” Arion said.
“Arion, you came at the right time. The sun disc is missing. Kaga (Devil) has it,” the sun-god said, relieved to see Arion landing near him just when he needed him.
“Arion, Go! Find the sun disc. And who is this?” he asked, looking at Dyami.
“My name is Dyami, Lord.”
“Dyami, go with Arion and find the disc,” the sun-god commanded. Dyami quickly mounted Arion.
“Find Kaga in the nether region,” he added.
They flew back toward the dreadful region they had just passed through and re-entered into the suffocating deadly air. Five horses-Turquoise, Pearl, White, Red, Coal-escorted them. It was a splendid sight to see Arion and the escorting blue, pearl, white, red, and black stallions.
In no time, giant bats and dragons dived toward them. However, they were no match for the fearsome five stallions.
The thick fog over the mountain obstructed visibility; still, Arion’s 360-degree vision, his whiskers, together with five horses, detected the Kaga’s dwelling, a large lava cave on the mountain’s side. Arion’s mystical vision also caught the sight of the sun disc inside.
Arion and
five stallions flew to the Devil’s den, easily dodging Kaga’s vicious birds. Dyami quickly dismantled the disc hung on a peg, just as Arion had said, and they flew back out of the nether region at lightning speed.
Swiftly, Arion and Dyami delivered the disc to sun-god, and he immediately returned to the East with his five horses and the sun disc and resumed his daily walk across the sky. The world regained light and warmth and restored its order.
Arion soared toward the blue sky with Dyami on his back and then drifted slowly.
“Wow, what a feat! You accomplished a great deed helping the sun-god!” Dyami exclaimed, realizing the significance of what had just happened.
“You were part of it. Congratulations!” Arion said in a softer tone. He was more relaxed now that he had accomplished his goal.
“You may call upon me in your future visions. Just play three high C notes on the flute you have,” he added.
“Oh, thank you very much. That would be so wonderful!” Dyami answered, so moved.
***
Awakened by a gentle stirring air near his face, Dyami saw a dragonfly whizzing by. He was sitting by the lake in the forest. In the distance, a woodpecker pounded the pine tree. Sparkles on the lake had faded to a soft glow.
The visions came to his mind vividly as real as the forest where he had just returned. Arion, the sun-God, five spectacular horses, fighting off devil birds, finding the sun disc, all rushed to his mind. The magnitude of his incredible voyage was too extraordinary to grasp.
He thought about his ancestor’s life he experienced in the vision. Over the years, listening to his Grandfather and elder Taza, he came to idolize his Apache ancestor’s life. However, the reality was far apart from the glorified version he had created in his mind. Their life contained all the problems that plagued humanity. It was a sobering realization.
Adjusting to changes from trance to reality, he noticed ducks lined up facing him in V formation as if saluting. Mystified, Dyami sat unstirred, relishing the moment, waiting to see what the ducks would do next, but they remained in the position. It seemed ducks would not move until he moved.
He had seen enough of animals’ mysterious behaviors during his wanderings in the forest, but the saluting ducks were phenomenal.
He lost track of time, but judging by the sun’s position, he knew that it would soon be the dinnertime at home. Not having eaten for quite some time, he felt the urge to reach out to the berries around him, but he resisted. Instead, he went to the natural mountain water fountain issuing from rocks.
The ducks moved away when he got up. The water refreshed and filled him. Feeling tired, he returned to the oak and rested.
It was the early evening. Sun entered between trees at a slant. The intensity of the sun had waned, and a soothing cool breeze provided repose. He soaked in the forest’s peaceful energy.
Soon, time crept into the night. He anticipated and visualized birds settling in the nests on branches and squirrels disappearing into their burrows on tree trunks. He envisaged night hunters out in action in the woods; a bobcat running after the rodent under a bush; a coyote chasing a rabbit.
Stars scattered about in the sky, a full moon lighted woods, and leaves stirred in the fresh night air. He pulled the blanket over and fell into a deep sleep.
***
Dyami woke up stretching and saw Chenoa and his father sitting under a tree waiting for him to wake up.
“Good morning,” his father greeted.
“Hi, Dyami,” Chenoa followed.
Dyami was surprised to see them. He lost track of time.
“Is it already three days?”
“It’s the third day. How are you?” his father asked.
“I am fine, dad. I am ready to come home,” Dyami said.
“All right. Let’s get you home,” Dyami’s father said eagerly.
They walked back home, Dyami flanked by Chenoa and his father. The soft morning sun warmed their backs and hearts. Dyami felt happy walking between two people whom he loved. As if to express his feelings, birds sang:
A wood duck whistled, “Jeeeee.”
A cactus wren sang, “Krrr, krrr.”
A woodpecker called “Peep, peep.”
When they came near the house, Dyami saw his mother running to the door, her face in all smiles. She had been looking out for them. She could not hide the pride in her son, who was now approaching adulthood.
“There you are, all in one piece. Welcome home, dear,” Dyami’s mother kissed and hugged him and said,
“Look at you! You lost weight. Let me feed you.”
She immediately went to the kitchen and started to set the table. Grandfather was waiting in the living room.
“Now, come to the table. Breakfast is ready,” Dyami’s mother called out.
Dyami delved right into the bread and the mesquite cake his mother baked early that morning, especially for him.
The first thing he did after breakfast was to see Lato. He took him out to the pasture nearby and let him graze. As he watched Lato, he could not help but think about Arion. Trust and confidence he felt for Arion were the same he had in Lato.
After a good rest and tasty meals, Dyami’s Grandfather and father led him to the teepee. It was one of the last few days of summer vacation.
“How does it feel to be a man?” Grandfather asked, smiling.
“It feels wonderful, Grandpa. Do I look like a man?” Dyami asked.
“You certainly do,” Grandfather kept smiling and patted Dyami’s shoulder.
“Now, let’s hear about what happened during your vision quest,” Grandfather said eagerly. Dyami sat down near the older man, and his father quietly looked on.
“Now, what was it like?” Grandfather pressed.
“I was an Apache warrior fighting Comanche and the US Army.”
“And what happened?”
“We lost both wars. Comanche outnumbered us, and the US Army had guns. We fought until the last Apache died,” Dyami recounted the vision.
“That was the Apache spirit. They were not afraid of dying,” Grandfather responded, not missing a beat.
“Yes, our ancestors were brave men. I admire their courage and strength. Still, I can’t absorb how difficult their nomadic life was, dictated by the sun and buffaloes, and ravaged by the constant tribal conflicts,” Dyami continued.
“Our life back then was closely tied to nature. We’re part of nature, and nature is sacred to us!” Kuruk said forcefully. He appeared irritated.
“Grandpa is right. Nature is an integral part of our life. We depend on it.”
Nantan, sensing his father’s displeasure, quickly urged Dyami to continue with his vision.
“There’s more. Our people traded deerskins for blankets with white settlers. The blankets were tainted with germs and killed many of us,” Dyami continued.
“I know about blankets. Your Great Grandfather witnessed it. Some white people will do anything to get what they want,” Kuruk said, remembering what he heard from his father.
“Then I was on a horse with wings called Arion and helped the sun-god retrieve the sun disc from the Devil.”
“That’s grand! Now, what could that mean?” Grandfather wondered, now fully engaged in Dyami’s vision.
“I feel special in helping to save the world from darkness, even if it’s just a vision,” Dyami said.
“That’s it. You must remember that you can do great things for the world,” Grandfather said.
“You can, at the least, make a difference in many of our people’s lives,” Nantan said, bringing the conversation to a practical point.
“You must first understand and respect your ancestor’s customs before you can help our people,” Grandfather said firmly.
“I agree with Grandpa. We must respect and preserve our customs and culture. Human life depended on nature across time and civilization. We must protect our natural resources and animals,” his father said.
After the talk, Dyami’s Grandfather permitte
d Dyami to use the flute again.
A few days later, Dyami and Gopan went to the forest. It was their first time together since their vision quests.
“Tell me about your experience first. Mine is long,“ Dyami asked Gopan.
“I had a quasi-vision experience, but I can’t make anything out of it. I was tired and hungry at the end,” Gopan said.
“So tell me what you mean by ‘quasi-vision experience’?” Dyami persisted.
“I was in a trance, and I saw scenery,” Gopan narrated the following.
GOPAN’S VISION
I was sitting under the old oak on the last day of my quest. Suddenly I felt atmospheric changes and saw a figure on a horse on the summit of high snow-covered mountains. At first, I couldn’t discern the form, obscured by the sun behind, but slowly I perceived it was a young Mongolian male.
An eagle took off from his stretched hand. Gliding effortlessly, its expansive wings cut the air. There was no doubt the young man was an eagle hunter. I realized then that I was on the snow-topped Mongolia’s Altai Mountains.
The Darkhad horse seemed to enjoy the view, snorting at the sight of golden eagles circling below. When the hunter whistled, the eagle came and sat on his extended hand. The silence was broken only by high-pitched eagle calls. The air was crystal clear, and I felt purified and invigorated.
Then, I spotted something moving fast below. It was a snow leopard chasing after an ibex. Its white speckles blended into the snow. The ibex ran for its life, jumping from one vertical precipice to the other. It was amazing to look at how its suction cup-like hooves maneuver stiff peaks.
However, after a short chase, the leopard caught the ibex and dragged it to the crag, where her cub waited. I felt sorry for the ibex, and at the same time, glad for the cub, divided between the two feelings; I felt helpless.
I looked around and saw survival activities all around the mountainside: a wolf chased after a deer down the steep slope, and a lynx stalked a small rodent. Between jagged rocks, a female golden eagle fed a dead marmot to screeching eaglets. The snow-covered mountain held the essence of life.
