Grey Eyes

by Franks Busch

  “Burn tobacco!” a man’s voice called.

  “Hiy, hiy!” came a muffled voice from outside.

  Painted Turtle Man invited someone from the eastern doorway to speak. Soaring Star Woman’s great-grandson, Laughing Cloud Boy, thanked the nookumis and moosumis for giving him life as the blue haze flashed.

  “Burn tobacco!” his mother shouted when he was finished.

  Painted Turtle Man took over, thanking the young warrior and inviting the nookumis and moosumis of the Nehiyawak to acknowledge the young brave.

  Something began to stir in the smoky blue disk in the centre of the lodge. A large bird’s head began to protrude beak first and the disk became a swirling cloud that flashed with lightning. It looked like a very large eagle, but when it had fully emerged it turned out to be a small Thunderbird. It screeched with crackling thunder and erupted with brilliant flashes of white light.

  “Thunderbird song!” yelled Painted Turtle Man, barely audible over the thunder.

  The deep boom of an elk hide drum echoed as one of the older Crane clan singers took up the song. The Thunderbird jerked and twitched its head curiously at the sound of the song. It was a powerful omen and Painted Turtle Man splashed the grandfather rocks continuously in a steady and gentle rhythm in perfect time with the drums.

  As the song neared its end, the little Thunderbird began to retract its head into the cloud and the thunder and lightning subsided. The cloud became a smoky blue disk again.

  “All my relations! Ekosi, open the door!” yelled Painted Turtle Man.

  The firekeepers pulled up the hides covering the main doorway and steam poured out of the lodge.

  The participants’ heads and bodies gave off wisps of steam as they chattered excitedly about the first round of the ceremony and what they thought the omen meant. Brown Shield Man moved the rocks around with his antlers, occasionally splashing hot water here and there. He gathered them into a round, flat bed as he had seen others do at previous ceremonies. When the pit was ready, fourteen more red-hot grandfather rocks were brought in.

  “Ekosi, close the door,” said Painted Turtle Man. Again, the firekeepers lowered the hides and stomped them flat from the outside.

  “Love us, Loving Spirit,” prayed Painted Turtle Man as he sprinkled new medicine over the red-hot rocks. The smoky disk hovering above the grandfather rocks was now a sandy yellow colour. “In the southern doorway, we honour the life-givers, our mothers, grandmothers, aunties, sisters, cousins, daughters, and granddaughters.”

  The next round of the sweat lodge was ready to begin.

  This time, a large green turtle flew out of the smoky disk and zoomed around the sweat lodge. Then, a white wolf emerged and walked about slowly and gracefully, staying close to the disk.

  “I will offer medicine four times for each of these grandmothers,” announced Painted Turtle Man. As the water was splashed over the red-hot rocks the steam roared more intensely than in the first round. The hot steam struck the faces and shoulders of the participants, scalding them mildly.

  The baby in Singing Doe’s arms was well covered and continued to sleep peacefully despite the drumming, singing, and heat. This time, Painted Turtle Man invited the southern doorway to speak.

  “My name is Red Dragonfly Woman of the Wolf Clan,” the young woman began. She paused as Painted Turtle Man splashed water on the grandfather rocks four more times. The yellow disk swirled and flashed white light.

  “I am honoured and grateful to be here today,” she continued. “And to represent the women of Nisichawayasihk. I give thanks and praise to the Creator, Kitchi Manitou, for blessing White Willow Woman with her new baby boy.”

  “Burn tobacco!” one of the older women called.

  “I would ask the ancestors, in a humble way, to give us guidance in seeking a name for our new blessing. I renew the pledge of the Wolf clan to protect this child from any who would threaten his harmony.”

  The other Wolf clan participants began a long slow howl in acknowledgement and were joined by the apparition of the white wolf in the centre of the lodge.

  “All my relations, ekosi!” Red Dragonfly Woman concluded.

  “The Wolf clan honours us, and we shall honour them. Wolf song!” ordered Painted Turtle Man.

  The Crane clan singers took up the drum beat, loud, fast, and strong. The white wolf began to prowl, sniffing the ground and the air. It howled loud and long, shaking the lodge. Five more wolves emerged from the smoke and joined in the hunt. The wolves ran around the lodge as though chasing something, barking and howling as they went. As the song came to a close the wolves pounced into the smoky yellow disk one by one, as though finding their quarry at last. The original white wolf pounced last, disappearing at the moment of the last beat of the drum.

  “All my relations! Open the door!” shouted Painted Turtle Man, ending the round. The helpers outside pealed back the hides covering the entrance and steam poured out in a deep fog. The helpers had to wait a moment for the fog to clear in order to retrieve the empty water vessel. A few of the younger participants, including Soaring Star Woman’s great-grandson, removed themselves from the ceremony and were greeted by the helpers with dry deer hides to help with the dripping sweat and steam. They would face no shame in deciding they had had enough.

  “All right, bring in fourteen more grandfathers,” Painted Turtle Man said after a short time. The participants were deep in prayer, mumbling or humming to themselves, preparing for the ordeal yet to come.

  In this round, Walking Moon Woman was invited to speak. “My name is Walking Moon Woman and I guide the Bear clan in a humble way,” she began. A full white moon rose out of a red smoky disk above the fire and a large blue bear jumped out of it. The bear stood for a moment, looking around the sweat lodge, surveying the participants. It began prowling and foraging as though in a forest.

  “Thanks and gratitude to the Great Spirit, Kitchi Manitou, for all the gifts bestowed upon Nisichawayasihk and all the creatures living there. I also give thanks to Mother Earth for her bounty. She has always provided for us as a mother provides for her children. The Bear clan has been blessed with a new arrival and we have come here today to ask the ancestors to reveal his name. It is our children who give us purpose and meaning in our lives.”

  The Bear perked up its ears when she said this, then went back to foraging.

  “In the western doorway, we pay honour to the family and to the warriors who protect it. We ask the Gentle Giant and the Bear to continue to watch over us as they have since the people of Nisichawayasihk were put on Mother Earth by Kitchi Manitou. I pray we may continue to heed the will of Our Creator and live in harmony with all the plants and creatures whom we share this life with. We are not lesser or greater than any of Kitchi Manitou’s creations. All my relations, ekosi.”

  The moon and the blue bear dissipated into the smoky red disk.

  “Burn tobacco,” one of the older women shouted.

  Painted Turtle Man splashed the grandfather rocks four more times and the steam blasted the participants again. Some groaned and some clenched their teeth in response to the searing pain. The baby continued to sleep, safe under a hide strewn over Singing Doe’s shoulder.

  Now it was Soaring Star Woman’s turn to speak. As she began, a bright white streak of light shot up out of the smoky red disk and swirled high in the air in long, smooth circles. The sweat lodge rumbled and reverberated with the ancient magic as the clan mother uttered her first words: “I give thanks and gratitude to all manner of creation, those that fly, those that swim, and those that creep or crawl upon Mother Earth.” Animals and insects of all manner burst out of the smoky disk as though it were the cauldron of life.

  “I give thanks to the four winds and the teachings they whisper.”

  The wind blew from each of the four doorways causing the hot air to sear the backs of the participants.

&nb
sp; “Hear, nookumis and moosumis of the Nehiyawak, those who have come before us and have prepared our way.”

  The creatures disappeared and the aurora began to shimmer and shine above the smoky red disk in silver, green, and blue. The ancestors were visible within the lights and appeared to be listening.

  “I give great thanks,” Soaring Star Woman continued, “for the blessing of the Grey-Eyed child born to the Bear clan.”

  The participants whooped and cheered as though celebrating a great victory. Painted Turtle Man splashed the grandfather rocks and the drum sounded four times in acknowledgement. Silence quickly returned as the participants listened eagerly and Soaring Star Woman continued.

  “I have grown old,” she said, her voice trembling. “My body has become tired. Soon I will join the ancestors in the Great Mystery beyond this life…”

  The people inside the lodge balked, shouting out their disbelief and praying for Soaring Star Woman’s health and long life.

  “It brings my heart great joy,” she said, silencing them, “to know the Grey-Eye magic will continue to bless the people of Nisichawayasihk after I am gone.” The participants cheered at this wisdom and many called for tobacco to be burned.

  “I place all of my faith in you, Kitchi Manitou, to guide our people as you always have. I ask only that you give us the ears to hear your message and the eyes to see your signs. I have foreseen that the people of Nisichawayasihk will need your blessings in the troubling times to come…All my relations, ekosi.”

  Soaring Star Woman concluded her prayer, leaving all to wonder in silence about what she meant. The ancestors blurred themselves back into the shimmering light of the aurora and began to dissipate. The white light that had been circling around the top of the lodge fell back into the smoky red disk.

  “Bear song! Hiy! Hiy!” said Painted Turtle Man.

  The lead singer cleared his throat and began the fast drumbeat of the Bear song. A large glowing black bear began to emerge from the smoky red disk. This was an elder bear with hunched shoulders and a white face covered with scars. It stood on its hind legs and issued a roar that shook the sweat lodge. Someone outside the lodge screamed.

  The elder bear began to snuffle and root around inside the lodge, looking for sickness. The elder bear took notice of Painted Turtle Man and charged him. The bear pinned his chest to the floor of the sweat lodge, pawing and roaring at his back.

  “Brown Shield Man!” the old man yelled. “Offer the medicine!”

  Brown Shield Man fumbled for the wooden ladle and scooped water out of the vessel, never having been asked to do this before. He held the wooden ladle with his right hand and poured the water slowly over the grandfather rocks. The steam rose from the hot rocks and burned his hand. He cried out in pain, cradling the injured hand.

  “No!” shouted Painted Turtle Man, still pinned by the great bear. “Splash the medicine. Don’t pour it.”

  Brown Shield Man took the ladle with his left hand and began splashing the water onto the rocks. The steam heated the lodge beyond tolerance and the people suffered. Some of the drummers stopped singing and drumming, unable to continue against the heat and steam. The lead drummer soldiered on, drumming and singing in spite of the searing heat.

  The elder bear released Painted Turtle Man and looked at Brown Shield Man. It took one step towards him and bit his burned hand. Brown Shield Man screamed but continued to splash water onto the rocks with his free hand. When the elder bear released the hand from his powerful jaws, the hand was healed. The bear sauntered around the lodge, ensuring that all those in need of healing received it. When the elder bear was satisfied, it walked into the smoky red disk as though into a burrow or cave. The song ended.

  Still lying on the floor of the sweat lodge, a gasping Painted Turtle Man called for the door to be opened. The flaps burst open as he spoke. The helpers outside knew the participants would not want any delay in ending the warrior round. Steam billowed out of the lodge in a torrent, as though a volcano had erupted from inside the lodge. One of the helpers was seared in the face. He spun around quickly, gritting his teeth.

  “Open the back door,” instructed Painted Turtle Man as he slowly returned to a seated position.

  The helpers ran around to the other side of the lodge and lifted the hides opposite the main entrance. Steam now poured out of both sides of the sweat lodge.

  “Bring us some medicine,” requested Painted Turtle Man as he placed the empty water vessel in the doorway.

  The helpers brought forth the water skins and filled the vessel. Painted Turtle Man scooped water with the ladle and handed it to Brown Shield Man.

  “Pass it to Walking Moon Woman to speak for the water,” he instructed. The ladle of precious water was passed from person to person. They eyed it hungrily but did not drink. Prayers and thanksgiving to Kitchi Manitou always come first.

  Walking Moon Woman took the ladle and held it up high, offering prayers under her breath. She lowered it to the floor and continued to pray. She then poured a dribble on the earth next to the grandfather rocks. She whispered her thanks to the water, then took a long sip from the ladle. She handed it over to Soaring Star Woman, who repeated the process, then drank the remaining half of the water. When the ladle was empty it was passed to Painted Turtle Man, who refilled it and drank.

  Each participant was given the ladle to drink and refresh themselves. Those who had endured the ravages of the third round were quiet and calm. They had earned the right to pray for themselves in the last and final round, which promised to be milder. When everyone had been refreshed and the steam had subsided, Painted Turtle Man instructed the helpers to close the back door and bring in the remaining grandfathers.

  The fourth and final round was ready to begin.

  “Love us, Loving Spirit,” prayed Painted Turtle Man. He sprinkled new medicine herbs over the red-hot rocks and shards. The glowing rocks sparkled in answer to the new medicine.

  Painted Turtle Man invited Standing Sun Woman of the northern doorway to speak. As she began, a yellow sun rose out of the smoky white disk and hovered solidly above. A large crane emerged and walked around the lodge slowly, choosing carefully where to step with its long legs.

  “I give thanks and praise to Creator for the teachings of the northern doorway,” Standing Sun Woman said. The yellow sun wavered and became a heap of mud and sticks that a beaver crawled over, while scratching and cleaning his face. The crane flew up and away and was replaced by a bull buffalo grazing upon the smoky white disk.

  “We would ask the nookumis and moosumis of the Spiritual World to show us the way ahead and to reveal the name of our newest member,” Standing Sun Woman prayed. “I would ask the singers to sing the tree song.”

  The beaver and the buffalo looked towards the northern doorway a moment and then nodded their heads in unison. The Crane clan singers took up the drum beat as their clan mother had requested. The smoky white disk began to swirl faster and expanded, enveloping the beaver and the buffalo. The participants of the sweat lodge were treated to a strange assortment of visions that could not immediately be interpreted.

  A burst of light flashed and the ceiling of the sweat lodge became the night sky. A shooting star streaked across the sky in a downward arch, disappearing somewhere low on the horizon.

  The white light flashed again and the scene became a marshland in the summer. There, a pair of white cranes walked together.

  Another flash and the floor of the sweat lodge became an aerial view of a Nehiyawak village. It was as though the participants were sitting upon a cloud high in the sky looking down. Two eagles circled the village and then shrieked and dove at the people below. The people ducked for cover and fled into their lodges to hide.

  Another white flash and they were in a thicket where a red fox was trotting along with a snake in its mouth. The snake’s head writhed from side to side and its body grew larger
and larger. It struck the back of the fox’s neck with its venomous fangs. The fox took a few steps, fell down, and was swallowed by the snake.

  The light flashed again and those in the sweat lodge now appeared to be under water in a pond. From the southern doorway two grey turtles swam overhead, the first turtle larger than the second.

  Another flash and the participants appeared to be near a mountain where a large grizzly bear was limping towards the mountain with one of its front paws up off the ground.

  Next, they were back in the forest where sad-faced people were walking, carrying sacks and pouches and looking backwards from time to time, their eyes streaming with tears.

  Another brilliant flash of white light and they were back in the sweat lodge, the disk of smoky white light swirling above the grandfather rocks again as the song ended.

  “Thank you my ancestors for this vision,” said Standing Sun Woman. “All my relations.”

  “Tapwe!” everyone in the lodge yelled at once.

  “We have honoured all of creation and all of the teachings of the four directions,” prayed Painted Turtle Man. “We would now ask for this child’s name to be revealed to us.”

  Painted Turtle Man splashed water over the rocks seven times, the steam hitting the participants gently in waves. The smoky white disk began to swirl again and grow dark. The lodge began to reverberate with an unseen energy as something began to emerge from the dark swirl. It appeared to be the head and the shoulders of a warrior with his eyes closed. Many of the men murmured their approval of what they thought was to be interpreted as a strong warrior name. The spectral warrior breathed deeply and all of the people inside the lodge were face to face with him, regardless of their position or perspective.

  Slowly the warrior’s eyelids began to rise, revealing in his irises the colour of blood. Some of the younger participants screamed in horror at the image of a cackling Red-Eye, sworn enemy of the people of Nisichawayasihk and servant of evil. This image of the enemy seemed to be a bad omen, an omen of death. Suddenly the baby in Singing Doe’s arms began to cry fast and loud.