by Franks Busch
“Tapwe,” answered Soaring Star Woman, “there are many daughters among the Turtle clan. It should be so.”
The young women of the Turtle clan pumped their knees to acknowledge their readiness to the task. They did not leave immediately, since there were still important things to discuss.
“The medicine songs should be sung, but who will sing them?” asked Soaring Star Woman.
Standing Sun Woman stepped forward for the Crane clan. “The sons of the Crane clan would offer their voices to the spirits,” she said in her surprisingly loud voice. The young men of the Crane clan were stunned. This would mean they would enter the sweat lodge, a very great honour.
“Tapwe,” answered Soaring Star Woman. “It is the Grandmother Crane that gives us our voices. It should be so.”
The young men of the Crane clan looked as though they had just won a lacrosse game. They stepped back, bowed, and jogged off, still not believing their good fortune.
With the work assigned, the participants would need to be selected.
“Clan mother,” said Standing Sun Woman, as was the duty of the Cranes, “who will present the child to the grandfathers?”
“I have discussed this with my sister and we think it would be best for Singing Doe to present the child,” responded Soaring Star Woman.
The people of Nisichawayasihk murmured their approval. The child was White Willow Woman’s first born and so it was understandable she would be too weary from her ordeal to enter the lodge. To have the child presented by his maternal aunt was considered good and fitting.
“Then, perhaps her husband should keep the doorway,” suggested Soaring Star Woman, turning towards Walking Moon Woman.
The Eagle twins gasped at the suggestion. Keeping the doorway was a place of honour for a man and one they assumed would go to one of their own husbands, especially since it was their clan that hosted the ceremony.
Realizing they meant him, Brown Shield Man looked like he’d been hit by a branch in the face, but he recovered quickly, standing at attention to signify his willingness. He would sit in the main doorway and accept the red-hot grandfather rocks as they came in. He would then have to place them in the shallow pit dug in the centre of the round lodge.
“Nookum,” whispered the elder Eagle Twin. “Would it not be better if an Eagle was given this task?”
“Would it not have been better if you girls had remembered your manners in the Bear lodge?” came the reply. In one motion, Soaring Star Woman reprimanded her granddaughters while making an apology for their behaviour.
The elder Eagle twin balked and stepped back.
“Tapwe,” answered Walking Moon Woman on behalf of her son-in-law. “That would be a good thing. Brown Shield Man would be honoured to be of service.”
The Eagle twins frowned at Singing Doe, but composed themselves quickly. They liked to appear pleasant when the people of Nisichawayasihk were gathered.
“Who should sit in the east?” Standing Sun Woman asked. It was quite cold and the Crane clan matriarch needed to keep the meeting moving.
“A young Eagle should sit in the east,” answered Walking Moon Woman.
“My great-grandson will represent the eastern doorway,” offered Soaring Star Woman. Again, the people of Nisichawayasihk murmured their approval, as the eastern doorway is the place of the rising sun, where new life begins. The Eagle is the guardian of this doorway and it is a place of honour for children and youth. This placement placated the Eagle twins, since one of their children would receive the honour. A normally shy and reserved boy of only five summers came forward and looked up at his great grandmother with wide eyes. She smiled and nodded, taking him by the hand. The boy was obviously nervous but he did his best to puff himself up like the men.
“Who will sit in the south?” continued Standing Sun Woman.
Blue Lightning Woman stepped forward, again representing the Wolf clan. “My daughter would sit in the south, if she were asked,” she offered with her eyes towards the Turtle clan. Since the Wolf and the Turtle share the guardianship of the southern doorway, it was only polite to seek approval. The southern doorway is the woman’s place of honour. The daughters of the Turtle clan had already been tasked with gathering the water, but it was still necessary to show respect. Green Wing Woman nodded her approval.
“Tapwe,” answered Soaring Star Woman “it should be so.”
“Who will sit in the west?” asked Standing Sun Woman.
“That is where Walking Moon Woman will sit,” stated Soaring Star Woman. “I will sit there with her.”
The people of Nisichawayasihk murmured approval. The western doorway was guarded by the Bear and Sasquatch, the gentle giant. It is the place where the family as well as the warriors who protect the family are honoured.
“Tapwe, it should be so,” confirmed Standing Sun Woman formally. “Who will sit in the north?”
“It should be you, my sister and perhaps your husband too?” said Soaring Star Woman.
This was also a good appointment, since Standing Sun Woman was the second oldest person in the village, next to Soaring Star Woman, and her husband was Walking Moon Woman’s brother. The Beaver and the Buffalo guard the northern doorway, and it is the place where the elders are honoured.
“We would be honoured to serve the people of Nisichawayasihk,” answered Standing Sun Woman.
“Will anything else be needed?” asked Walking Moon Woman to the leader of the Circle of Clan Mothers, Soaring Star Woman.
“Tapwe,” she replied, “someone will be needed to offer the prayers and provide guidance and direction for the ceremony. This person would also have to make the medicine for the grandfathers. I would have Painted Turtle Man undertake this task.”
All but the Eagle twins cheered the appointment, and those standing near him nodded their approval to the old man. Directing the ceremony and making the medicine for the grandfathers was a great honour, one reserved for the village medicine carrier. Old Painted Turtle Man tried to remain composed but a tear escaped his eye, hiding quickly in the creases of his wrinkled face.
Soaring Star Woman handed a small pouch to one of her grandchildren and directed the child to walk around the circle from east to south to west, in the direction of the sun, until she reached Painted Turtle Man. Rather than hand it to him directly, the child held out the small pouch of tobacco for the man to take, giving him the opportunity to refuse without insult.
“For the love of life,” he said as he took the pouch. “I accept this great responsibility.”
7
tīpakohp
Painted Turtle Man made his way back to the Bear Lodge to begin preparations for the sweat lodge, his first since his wife’s return to the spirit world. So many things needed doing before the ceremony could happen, and everyone would be depending on him to remember it all. She used to make sure everything was ready, so all he had to do was conduct the ceremony. How would he manage this task without her?
Painted Turtle Man arrived at the Bear lodge. He could hear the Bear clan women fussing over the baby from outside. Now that he was home, he only wished to be alone.
He headed for the forest. As he walked, a gust of wind caught him off guard, causing a shiver to ripple through his old bones. He headed for the one place he knew she would be with him: the spot where they had spent many evenings, sitting on a rock, watching the sunset. They usually only went there in the summer months, but today he was desperate.
“The Nehiyawak need me now, but I don’t know if I am ready.” He spoke as he walked. “I wish you were here. I was ready to leave this life until Kitchi Manitou sent me a dream about a Grey-Eyed boy. Now I feel I must stay here a while longer. I don’t know why this boy has been sent to us and I don’t know what part I will have in his journey. I imagine you must have had something to do with it. Who else would give me such a task at my age?”
He arrived at their place to find the rock covered in snow. Except for the distant croak of a raven, all was quiet. In his youth, he had been badly wounded. She had nursed him back to health. Because of his injuries, he couldn’t offer her much. At the time he did not know whether he would ever walk again, much less hunt. For a time, he was not sure he wanted to go on living. She never gave up on him though, when so many others had dismissed his usefulness.
He worked hard to heal and worked harder to walk again. All that mattered was for him to win her affection and for her to choose him as her husband. He carried his flute to her lodge and played beautiful music for her ears only. He helped her carry water, as best he could, anyway. When he began to learn the secrets of the plant world, he collected the medicines she needed to heal the Nehiyawak. Somehow, after he had forgotten why he had started helping her in the first place, she chose him. All he wanted to do after that was be with her. It didn’t matter to him if people thought of him only as her helper. He knew they were partners in all things and that was all he cared about.
“The Nehiyawak are so happy the Grey-Eyed child has been born. I am, too, but what does it mean? Creator sends a blessing only when we are most in need. What does the future hold for Nisichawayasihk? Are we in danger from the Red-Eye?”
The wind whistled louder and the icy fingers of Old Man Winter reached for him. It would be best not to wander too far. He could not shut these thoughts out of his head or push away the dull ache in the pit of his chest. Of the Nehiyawak only the matriarchs and a few others had witnessed the devastation the Red-Eye had brought upon Nisichawayasihk. The horror was unforgettable. Of course, he thought, life must go on.
The Bear clan had been kind to him, taking him in after his wife passed. How many times had he considered taking the long walk in the dead of winter to relieve the burden they carried? He wasn’t afraid of death, but his wife would not approve. She always said, “Creator gives us our life and only Creator can decide when to take it back.” Maybe she was right. He certainly didn’t want for her to be ashamed of him when next they met.
“I am trying to make you proud,” he called. “Though I am afraid, I try to serve the Nehiyawak as best as I can. I know you are watching me, but I just want to be with you again. I don’t know what I am supposed to do here…”
“Uncle?” came a young man’s voice. Painted Turtle Man turned to see a warrior of seventeen or eighteen summers.
“Huh?” responded the old man wiping his eyes.
“Who were you talking to?”
“My wife.”
“Tapwe! I am sorry I disturbed you. I will find you later.” The young man turned to leave.
“It’s all right, I’ll have plenty of time to talk to her when I see her next. What did you need?”
“Oh, yes, I wanted to…” the young man stuttered. “I mean, if you need someone like me…if you haven’t chosen anyone yet. Have you chosen anyone?”
“I am not sure what you are saying,” said Painted Turtle Man. “You want to ask me for something?”
The young man took a deep breath.
“Yes,” he began. “The Circle of Clan Mothers passed tobacco for you to run the sweat.”
“Tapwe.”
“I want to be your helper and learn the secrets of the plant world.”
“My helper?”
“I am a hard worker. I can collect wood, get water. I can do whatever is needed. I just want to learn.”
“No one has ever asked to be my helper before…”
“Really?” said the young man, feigning surprise. “There were three other warriors at the Bear lodge who were going to ask you. When we were told you must have gone to begin the preparations, we went looking for you. I guess I found you first.”
“There are others?”
“Tapwe, Uncle. But none of them is as hard working as I am. My mother would tell you that I have always helped out around the lodge, even when I was just a boy…”
“I am afraid you are mistaken, I have only been asked to conduct a naming sweat. I am sure there are others who would be able to teach you what you want to know. I’m just an old man preparing to return to the Great Mystery.”
“That is not what the people are saying. They say you knew the Grey-Eye was going to be born. They say you are touched by Kitchi Manitou.”
“The Nehiyawak say a great many things, but not all of it is true. Yesterday they laughed at me and today they think I am blessed. Who knows what they will say about me tomorrow.”
The young man looked down at his feet. He was determined, but didn’t know what to say to change the old man’s mind.
“What is your name, my boy?” asked Painted Turtle Man.
“I am called Soaring Spear Man of the Deer clan. I earned my warrior name last spring.”
“Well, Soaring Spear Man of the Deer clan,” said Painted Turtle Man. “Why do you want to become my helper and learn the secrets of the plant world?”
“Hmm,” he pondered. “I hadn’t really thought about it.”
“What is the first thing that comes to mind?”
“I guess I want to learn things that will make me more useful to the village.”
“That is a good reason.” Painted Turtle Man examined the young man for a time. “Is there anything else?”
“Well, Uncle,” said Soaring Spear Man. “I am a little embarrassed to say.”
“If you expect me to teach you my secrets, you will have to tell me some of yours.”
“Tapwe…”
“And anything said between us,” added Painted Turtle Man, “will stay between us.”
“Well, I don’t think any of the women are interested in me. I thought if I learned something that other warriors don’t know, one of the women might want to choose me for a husband.”
“That’s nothing to be embarrassed about. After forty-four winters together, I still don’t know why my wife chose me. But I am glad she did. You are wise to seek out opportunities to improve yourself. That in itself is a quality women admire.”
“Tapwe?”
“Tapwe.”
“I would be grateful for any knowledge you could share with me in this matter.”
“I am afraid that is the extent of my knowledge,” laughed Painted Turtle Man. “But there are many other things I could teach you.”
“So, I can be your helper?”
“Tapwe, for as long as you feel you are learning. When you have learned from me all you need, you will move on and learn new things. One day, you might be able to come teach me something about the plant world that I did not know. That is the way wisdom is gained, in first recognizing that it can come from anywhere.”
“Hiy, hiy!”
“Now let’s go find the others. There is much work to be done.”
As they began their journey back to the village, Painted Turtle Man said a silent prayer of thanks. Having a young person to help and to teach would make his tasks much less difficult. Perhaps there was more for him to do in Nisichawayasihk after all.
8
ayinānīw
Four days passed and the people of Nisichawayasihk went about their preparations for the ceremony. The few young men of the Turtle clan offered to help the Deer clan collect wood, while the Wolf clan warriors prepared the site for the sweat lodge, clearing away the snow covering it. The Crane clan warriors came to assist, practicing their songs as they worked.
This is the way of the Nehiyawak: they saw what needed doing and they did it. To be thought of as lazy was a great dishonour, so everyone tried to keep busy in some way. As sponsors of the ceremony, the Eagle clan would prepare a feast for the people and present gifts to all who helped. In being sponsored by the wealthiest clan and with two Grey Eyes in attendance, the ceremony promised to be a good one.
On the third day of preparation, Blue Elk Man led a small group of Mart
en clan warriors out in search of grandfather rocks. He was not strictly required, but there was little for Blue Elk Man to do at the Bear lodge and he was eager to stretch his legs after being healed of his injury. The five men decided to head southwest along the river to a spot where round rocks had always been found.
“I had hoped to be an uncle,” said Coming Thunder, Blue Elk Man’s youngest brother. “I wasn’t expecting my nephew to be a Grey-Eye.”
“Tapwe,” said one of the others, pulling his toboggan over a stump. “I didn’t think you had it in you.” The men laughed.
“It is a great blessing,” said Blue Elk Man. “It is Kitchi Manitou who deserves the credit.”
“Don’t be so modest. You’ve done us proud,” continued Coming Thunder. “Now my wife wants a Grey-Eye too. It’s been a good thing for me.”
“I hope you aren’t going to get her hopes up,” said Blue Elk Man.
“About the baby, or does he mean the other thing?” teased one warrior to another. They shot a look back at Coming Thunder, who was last in the group.
“Don’t worry about that,” said Coming Thunder. “I’m a Marten.”
No one laughed. Blue Elk Man had stopped in his tracks, as did the others.
“Come on,” said Coming Thunder, pulling up alongside his brother. “Where is the pride—”
Blue Elk Man put his arm out, stopping him.
The men followed Blue Elk Man’s gaze. Up. In all of their combined experience as scouts, none had ever seen anything like it. Strung high across two trees and suspended by leather ropes was an owl. The bird’s shell of a body wavered in the wind: the eyes and tail feathers had been removed. The owl looked alive, frozen in place mid-glide, and yet without its eyes it seemed hollow, soulless. Blue Elk Man tried to read the message but failed. All he knew was that a dark purpose was at work here. The Marten warriors scanned the area, but saw no tracks or smoke from a camp.
Satisfied there was no other human presence, Blue Elk Man spoke. “Go get Painted Turtle Man.”
