"Now the warrior Three Feathers sends forth Friend Seeker to open his heart that the spirit of the Sky Traveler can enter and give meaning to his thoughts and direction to his heart."
Three Feathers paused to draw forth a packet of dried leaves, a small pipe, and a fire pot. He placed the objects between them. Their function was known to every Delaware youth and Three Feathers did not need to explain their use.
"Now Friend Seeker will go to the place he has chosen. No words will cross his lips, no food will enter his body, and no water will cool his throat.
"Now he goes from us to be one with his Sky Father."
Silently, Friend Seeker gathered the special items and rose lithely to his feet. He strode with dignity from Three Feathers' view knowing that as sender, Three Feathers would remain as he was until his return. Unlike Friend Seeker, Three Feathers would eat and drink or visit the creek if he chose, but he would resume his vigil and wait his student's reappearance.
The Seeker's chosen place was within a pine copse where only a small trickle of water disturbed the silence.
He had considered a craggy overlook, but he searched for a close and personal acceptance of the Great Spirit's will and the Great Spirit's grander works might prove distracting. En route he removed from the packet some of the long and slender medicine leaves and chewed them, swallowing the juice and spitting away the pulp. In his small clearing, he sat cross-legged with pipe and fire placed safely on a mossy stone. He relaxed his body, freeing his mind of distractions and allowing his thoughts to swim about, choosing their own direction.
He filled his pipe and fired it, drawing the pungent smoke deep into his lungs and suffering its throat drying heat until exhalation brought only small smoke tendrils. He smoked to the four directions and then to the Earth Mother who gave all good things. He blew smoke to the water and wood spirits, in which some believed, and finally to the blue bowl of sky where the Great Spirit lived surrounded by all those who had gone before. The mind of Friend Seeker began to reel with the strength of the smoke and his thoughts wandered and explored in ways unchosen.
For a while, the streamlet sounds entranced him and so enveloped his soul that he thought they must be the very voice of the true father. Later, a breeze stirring the pines thrilled him and brought chills with its beauty. Still later, the eye of his mind began a mighty journey through strange forests peopled by only half seen figures and animals of great size and ugly shape. He sweat, striving to understand the vision's meaning and breathed more smoke to clear it.
The scenes remained unclear with vast bodies of water mixing with mountains of fallen timbers and great rock cliffs tumbling downward to become odd birds that in turn became spears that repeatedly menaced him.
His mind began to tire and he felt the pipe slip from fingers curiously numbed. His soul ached with failure and he could feel a child's tears forming giant drops within his eyes. Then, the face of Late Star was there. Where there had been nothing, the features of his friend stood forth In sun-clear glow that overflowed his vision and lit each feature with larger than life clarity. As it had a thousand times, the mouth of Late Star quirked with its own special humor and the eyes boring into the mind of Friend Seeker glittered with the laughter and certainty that was his alone. He could almost hear the words of Late Star saying, "It is time, my brother!' and Friend Seeker wished to shout that he was coming, but the strength of his vision was so mighty that his voice could not rise.
For an eternity the face of Late Star overpowered all else. Then it flickered and was gone without trace, as a glowing coal might be snuffed by water.
Friend Seeker sagged, spent but exalted, as his mind staggered before the impact of the vision. His path had been marked. The Great Spirit had placed his blessing on the task of Friend Seeker. Never had a message been more clear. The Seeker slumped against the needled earth, overcome by the wonder of his vision and the strength of the medicine smoke. His eyes sagged and his breathing slowed. The Seeker slept.
The seeing of visions was not uncommon among The People and some claimed to see them often. Traditionally, a first vision was special and was told to no one. Although he longed to share his experience with Three Feathers, who might help acclaim its importance, Friend Seeker knew he must not. To him alone the Great Spirit had spoken and discussion might weaken its power or cause the true father to turn away.
Though the time seemed long, it was not yet late afternoon when the Seeker appeared again before his teacher. Refreshed after sleeping, he knelt in his old place feeling Three Feathers' eyes anxious upon him. He placed the special tools before him feeling a mighty flush and rising goose bumps betray his success.
Three Feathers raised the Seeker's chin and looked deeply into his eyes. For an instant Friend Seeker thought he saw tears thicken in the old warrior's eyes, but the teacher placed his hands on Friend Seeker's head, adding his own silent blessing and hiding his face from view. After a moment he noisily cleared his throat and ended the moment. "It is done and it is good.
"The water is clear and it is time to return to the Buffalo Creek."
The Seeker went to the creek and it was so. The bottom could be seen. He marveled that this should happen at an auspicious time and trusted that it too was an indication of the Great Spirit's approval of his chosen task.
— — —
Although the fishing village elders possessed no authority, both the Seeker and Three Feathers accepted the elders' right to be informed of their youth's development and to consider among themselves how he had progressed.
Friend Seeker stood before their fire and within their circle observing pursed lips and squinted eyes. He saw approving nods as Three Feathers described their winter training and registered their favorable grunts and grim smiles.
Where once he would have squirmed and been fearful of criticism, the Seeker now met their eyes squarely, without challenge or hesitation. That he appeared as an equal was plain to all.
If the men of the council wondered at the changes a short year of training had brought, Friend Seeker too was moved by new and unfamiliar attitudes. A summer earlier, the men had seemed superior beings, possessing strength and knowledge beyond any he would attain. Now, he saw elders, deserving of dignity as family heads and village counselors, but the physical majesty was gone.
His own muscled body far surpassed their lean strengths and the wisdom that once had appeared unattainable now seemed only that gained by any who thought and discussed together. A winter's exposure to Three Feathers' and Oak Neck's expounding had opened his mind to concepts unapproached by most of this council.
His father sat within the circle and Friend Seeker detected his poorly concealed pride in the attention focused on his son. Corn Row too had grown smaller during the winter and Three Feathers' constant harping that a warrior must retain his humility, must listen with respect, and must honor all of the people was suddenly meaningful. Isolation from pointless distractions while training with intense concentration sharpened a warrior's mind and body beyond the demands of others' casual living. Arrogance could easily replace understanding or bare toleration subvert genuine caring. Three Feathers claimed those curses crept into even the most careful of warriors, for their honed superiority in many things invited contempt for those busy with more common tasks.
If he continued along the warrior path he would be forever separated from the hunters and the family heads. For them, war was an intrusion to be met with heated passions and proud ferocity. They neither sought nor prepared for war. As a warrior, his combats could be many but they would be calculated actions. While he might dance in paint and feathers, brandishing club and spear, his mind would remain as disciplined as his body. To many he would appear an emotionless killing machine but to most he would be an object of respect and his presence would give added security to his village. Few would understand him and fewer would call him friend. The disciplines that tempered him would separate him from the others. Only among warriors would he find empathy, and among the s
cattered Delaware few were true warriors.
Among the leaders at the spirit fire he saw many emotions. Beyond his father's own pride, the father of Late Star showed grim satisfaction and some impatience. A pair of elders feared Friend Seeker might again bring the Piscataway upon them, and without words, implied it could be too late to aid Late Star anyway. One hunter of middle seasons bristled aggressively as though Friend Seeker somehow challenged his own limited abilities at war.
Three Feathers treated all comment with consideration. He pointed out that the addition of even an untested warrior strengthened their village. He soothed the envious hunter by seeking his opinion and stroked other prides with gentle comments and approvals. Having seen Three Feathers at his most cantankerous, the Seeker judged these examples of cooperation as also part of his training.
The endorsement of the council was foregone but it was good to have. The aged elder who had promised a war bow had died en route to the camp, but the weapons had been finished and provided a proud epitaph. For the council's approval, Friend Seeker nocked a war arrow and drew until the stone point touched his knuckle.
The bow was as powerful as any he had tested and sinew and muscle coiled in the dance of firelight. He held the full draw for a rock-steady moment before easing the pressure and unstringing the bow with a lightning competence that could be appreciated by the assembled hunters. Even Three Feathers appeared satisfied.
— — —
In the evening cool of their first day, Three Feathers chose to walk alone on a path leading to the junction of the river and creek. His lodge was in chaos following the move. At such times women ruled and it was well to be away.
He desired time for contemplation without interruptions by screeching children or prattling squaws. For nearly a year he had schooled a single nephew. If he had further years, they were few and it was time to consider the worth of his efforts and what might lie ahead.
Each turning of seasons passed swifter than the one before. It seemed only yesterday that the skinny youth with angry eyes had declared himself Friend Seeker and bound himself to a warrior's task. Yet now the youth was a man trained to commendable fitness and prepared to begin his quest. Where had the time gone? He had so much yet to teach the young warrior. Had he explained the most important things? Had the teaching of Snake's Tongue and Oak Neck been enough? He sighed in resignation. Only bitter trial could tell.
The youth had matured as his own son might have if a Seneca war club had not sent him along the spirit trail. He had made the Seneca pay dearly for that death, but until Friend Seeker, none had filled the void so cruelly carved into his heart. In the Seeker he found the dedication and talent for which a teacher prays. He also felt the student's respect and eventual liking that a father hungers for. Because it was right, he had disguised his pleasure and his personal caring, but now that the training was finished, he could indulge his emotions and reflect on what lay ahead for both Three Feathers and Friend Seeker.
The Seeker would go forth as both desire and honor demanded. If he returned, two paths lay before him. He could leave the warrior path, choose a woman, and become a hunter and lodge leader. Most would declare those choices wise and Three Feathers could not scorn their reasoning.
The other trail had been the path of Three Feathers. Along its thorn strewn way there had been much pain. He had experienced interminable boredom and gut wrenching fear. Well he could remember the exhaustions, the hungers, and the confusions. The defeats were the worst, for they wounded and scarred the soul as well as the body.
But there had been victories, sometimes giant, mind-blinding triumphs that soared spirits on eagle wings and reduced the sufferings to flea bite importance. There had been honor as well, and in older years when the battles were behind and joints moved reluctantly, the honors living still in scars and feathers and in the minds of those who remembered, became most precious of all.
There was also the matter of service to The People and Three Feathers did not count that lightly. Few were able to offer gifts of service to clan or tribe. Most were too busy providing for family or lodge. The warrior's way was a life of giving. He guarded the lodge entrance and gave security by his formidable presence. He presented his body to enemy arrows. In final seasons, he taught the young and counseled the elders.
In return, a warrior could expect the Great Spirit's approval and from his tribesmen, respect and provisions for his continued existence. If the latter were sometimes offered reluctantly or withheld in hard times, that too was understandable and simply a part of the way it was. Three Feathers had found this path the right one and he fervently hoped that Friend Seeker too would choose its stony course.
Three Feathers thought Friend Seeker would so choose. Following the medicine smoke, he had seen the brightness of a great vision in the Seeker's eyes. The clarity of the young warrior's enthusiasm and his innocent acceptance of the Great Father's intercession tipped tear pots that Three Feathers thought long dried from too many battles. Through the eyes of Friend Seeker, Three Feathers could again feel his own youth when all things seemed possible and there seemed time to attempt all things. The gift of reliving those memories was itself enough reward for the year's labor.
Because of Friend Seeker, other village youths would claim desire to become warriors and their shallow yearnings would surge if Friend Seeker returned triumphant. What then should he do? He could pacify proud and hopeful fathers by wasting effort on their empty vessels, but in the end he would still draw their ire by declaring the sons unfit. Yet, there might be another Seeker within the gaggle of boys that distressed the village with their whooping and scrabbling. The possibility quickened his pulse and he dwelt on it for some moments.
Before the last light, he returned to a lodge ordered and quieted as it should be. Gifts of fish, venison, and turkey had been received and he thanked the Great Spirit for both gifts and the blessing that he rarely had to hunt himself. Perhaps soon he would have to remain at a major village where many would see that he and Blue Duck lived with dignity. Certainly his creaky presence no longer offered security from enemies. Only as a teacher did he justify his presence. While his was a worthy task, he doubted he could continue through many summers. Where once the youths had crouched fearful of his wrath and awed by his power, they now squirmed like eels or waited with glazed eyes for release. It was hard to grow old.
For this spring, there was the excitement of Friend Seeker. The training was finished but there remained ideas to present and warnings to emphasize. Within days, the new warrior would depart, and Three Feathers resolved to enjoy this time and ignore the harsh times panting hungrily closer.
— — —
Chapter 12
The days were rich for Friend Seeker. Release from the rigors of training left him mildly euphoric. Sky blue appeared deeper and spring greening seemed a previously unnoted marvel.
His status within the village had altered profoundly. His opinion was sought, even on subjects in which he was little versed. Maidens allowed him to detect shy smiles and children watched him with silent, round-eyed wonder, as though even his casual acts held vast significance. The attention was heady and the Seeker warred diligently with himself to avoid belief in undeserved self-importance. He exercised his barely-budded humility by listening seriously and limiting his own observations. He took time to explain or demonstrate to the small fry who self-consciously asked his advice, handling their tender confidences with gentle interest.
Large Fish had married in the fall and his woman was already heavy with a child. The Fish was proud of his family status and insisted Friend Seeker examine the hides and poles his new wife was collecting for the lodge they would soon construct. The accumulations of baskets, scrapers, pots, gourds, and robes, plus Large Fish's bows, clubs, spears, nets, snares, hooks, and knives were vast riches when compared to the Seeker's meager possessions. Friend Seeker admired the articles with appropriate astonishment and assumed envy that puffed Large Fish's ego. The Seeker supposed that La
rge Fish would henceforth remember their growing as times of close friendship with the antagonism forgotten.
The Seeker's evenings remained Three Feathers', for the old teacher had messages yet undelivered. Although Friend Seeker had returned to his father's home they met in Three Feathers' lodge. Usually the student brought gifts of meat or a few vegetables for Blue Duck, but his days of submitting to Three Feathers' whims were past. If they did not yet sit as equals, they shared respect and liking. Each appreciated the other and both looked forward to the evenings of talk.
Often other men joined their council and some offered their own advice and experience. Most of it Friend Seeker had heard better from Three Feathers or Oak Neck, but both he and the teacher listened with courtesy, for that was the right way.
Three Feathers spoke seriously, "A hunter, whether of game or enemy, must become one with his quarry. To think as your enemy does is to possess two minds; yours and his. Then you will know his thoughts and actions. You will sense his spear thrust even as he decides. Therefore you can be an instant quicker." The men present nodded, although they applied such empathy to hunting deer or bear.
"There is danger for the warrior in such understanding and I wish Friend Seeker to know of it, for his task is particularly vulnerable to this danger." Now the hunters were still. Their experience had taught them no danger.
"In becoming one with his enemy's mind, a warrior sees deep into the soul of his enemy. He finds that the enemy is not unlike himself. The similarities are strong and as understanding grows, a warrior's will may be weakened and he can begin to love his enemy much as he might a troublesome brother.
"Will his blows then be as quick? Will they be as powerful? Might he not hesitate a fatal instant when his enemy does not?
"These are true dangers and those who have often taken the warpaths have known them. Danger is most powerful in single combat or where a few chase others. The chase and the maneuverings can become a game enjoyable to the point that victory seems little more important than the playing. A warrior can lose his life in such games. I have seen it.
Friend Seeker (Perry County, Pennsylvania Frontier Series) Page 11
