"Test?" Henry interrupted.
"To become Horsemen all candidates must be tested,"
Stephen said. "A soldier is nominated to be a Horseman because of his bravery, but it is the Teacher who decides if the candidate is worthy. The Teacher is the last of the line of Horsemen who protected the king hundreds of years ago. He alone can bestow the Horseman's bracelet of honor."
Henry leaned back in his chair. "So that is the significance of the bracelet. I noticed it on the Chindit."
"It is a very special band," Stephen said. "It is made from silver taken from the mines in the Ri and metal taken from a bridle and sword of a Horseman who served the king a long time ago. The Teacher says the silver is like the Horseman-it must be made pure by fire, then strengthened and formed. Old metals from our ancestors and new ones from our Ri are joined. The Teacher says the band and the man are forged in honor. To wear the Horseman's band is a symbol of truth, commitment, and courage. It is the highest honor a Shan can have."
"And doesn't it mean the wearer must pledge his life to the Chindit?" asked Henry, not hiding his contempt for the Sawbaw.
Stephen's eyes narrowed. "Yes, the Horsemen have pledged their lives to my father, but only because he has pledged his life to the Ri. He is the Protector, Pastor Brown.
He has been wounded many times fighting for the people and the Ri."
Henry raised his hand. "Stephen, I apologize for my comment, but please understand I believe . Fighting is not the way of our Lord. Jesus taught nonviolence, and we all must do the same."
Stephen kept his eyes locked on Henry's. "I have seen what the bandits and Wa do. They give no mercy."
"The Master Horseman will have his men to train," Henry said softly. "But it is God's word that will eventually win over evil men's hearts."
Stephen turned his head to hide his misting eyes. "My father isn't coming back for me, is he, Pastor Brown?"
Henry reached out and put his hand on the boy's shoulder.
"I do not like what your father stands for, Stephen. But I do respect him as a man of honor. He will not come back for you because he made a promise that he knows in his heart is right. He wants you to be what he is not ... a man who can truly help his people. In his heart he knows his way of helping also hurts his people. Through knowledge and God's love you can be what your mother wanted ... and what your father wants-a man who can make a difference in this country."
Tears rolled down Stephen's cheeks as he lowered his head and spoke in a whisper. "I will try, Pastor."
Chapter 4.
Henry stood with head bowed in front of the ten-man militia unit. "... and I pray the training you have received over the past two weeks from the Master Horseman will never be called upon, but if the day comes, know Jesus is with the righteous and will give you strength."
The formation of men responded as one. "Amen."
Henry lifted his head and Bak strode up to address the formation. "Remember to have your rifle and ammunition clean and ready at all times, and keep it in a secure place where your children cannot get to it. That's all, you're dismissed until drill next week."
Very pleased, Henry smiled as he watched the men walk to the village. "You truly are a gifted teacher, Horseman Bak. I was very impressed with their shooting. Every man could hit the targets at two hundred yards. Where did you get the weapons?"
Bak held out the rifle that was slung over his shoulder for Henry to see. "The Chindit sent a mule train with the rifles and supplies. These are old British Enfields, but they are very accurate and easy to use."
Henry nodded without taking the proffered rifle. "Tell me again, Horseman Bak, what else we must do."
Bak motioned toward the village. "You must tell the villagers that when the warning bell is sounded they must not run to the church, but rather stay in their homes and lock all doors and windows. Bandits and the Wa must attack swiftly to be successful. Their tactic is to strike and take what they want before resistance can be formed. If the villagers deny access by locking their doors, the attackers will be easy targets for the militia, which will be on the dormitory and school roofs."
Henry dipped his chin. "I will have a village meeting tonight." He turned to go, but Bak lifted his hand. "One more request, Pastor. The boys helped me during the training. They fetched ammunition and put up the targets. I would like to have them continue to help me with the others. I will see to it that they go to classes and do all their chores before helping me."
Henry canted his head and stared into the old man's eyes.
"That is not the real reason you want them, is it?"
Bak shook his head. "No, Pastor. The truth is I want to be with Stephen all I can, I must teach him his heritage. My Sawbaw gave you his son to teach, but he also left me to teach him to be a Shan. You and I want the same thing. We want the boys to grow up and be respected men. In the Ri to be a man means many things, things I must pass on to Stephen."
"What kind of 'things' will you teach?" Henry asked suspiciously.
"A Shan must learn the forest, how to track, hunt, and care for what our ancestors have left us. These things must sound trivial to you, Pastor, but to a Shan they are everything. The mountains and the forest are a part of us."
"And your gods? Do you teach Stephen about them as well?" pressed Henry.
"I teach him to respect all things people believe in."
Henry lowered his head and thought for a moment before speaking. "What about Joshua? The boys have become inseparable."
"If he stays in Shaduzup he must know and understand the Shan. You know this to be true, Pastor. You see how the village people take to him; he already can speak our language.
They see he has a big heart and cares for them. I want to teach both boys-where one is weak the other is strong. Together they have no weaknesses and will be able to learn even more."
Henry took a deep breath. "Horseman Bak, you and the Chindit believe me to be a religious fanatic with no understanding of the Shan. I know far more than you think, and for this reason I will allow you to instruct the boys."
"And Mrs. Brown?" Bak asked with a twinkle in his eye.
Henry sighed. "It will take time for her to understand, but she will."
Joshua and Stephen waited until Henry had left for the village before coming out of Bak's new hut. "What did he say?" Joshua asked excitedly.
Bak put one hand on each boy's shoulder. "Today begins the many lessons you will learn from this old one. From this day on you will address me as 'Teacher,' for that is who I am. When a lesson is complete you will say, 'Knowledge will give us strength.' Both of you are to be my students, and I will teach you the ways of the Shan and the Ri. One is incomplete without the other, as you will see. Now go home, study the books for Mrs. Brown's classes, then sleep well.
Tomorrow you begin learning how to ride the ponies a new way, the Horseman way. Go and remember, knowledge will give you strength."
Both boys turned to go, but Bak grabbed them by the hair.
"Have you already forgot my instructions? What are you supposed to say after my lessons?"
Stephen began the line, and Joshua joined in. "Knowledge will give us strength."
"Now go!" Bak bellowed and waved them off as if shooing away pests. Only when they had their backs turned did his leathery face crack into a smile.
The weeks passed and dark clouds began gathering in the north, foretelling the coming monsoon season. With the clouds came the hunting season and the closing of the mission school. The wild boar and gyi, or small deer, born in the spring were now big enough to be hunted. They would provide meat for the Shan throughout the wet season.
"Pig dogs? They really are pig dogs?" Joshua asked. He had looked forward to this first hunt for weeks.
Stephen motioned toward the skinny mongrels scampering ahead of his pony. "Of course. How else do you think you hunt boar?"
"They just look like normal dogs to me. How can you tell they're pig dogs?"
"Because they aren't fa
t and lazy like pye dogs."
"Pye dogs? What is a pye dog? Are there any in Shaduzup?"
Leading the hunting party, Bak twisted himself around in the saddle with a scowl. "You two have been talking instead of looking for signs. Joshua, tell me what trees these are to the right."
Joshua glanced at the trees and shrugged. "Teak, Teacher.
And the ones ahead are sayo with water vine climbing up their branches."
Bak pointed to his left. "Stephen, what ferns are those and what use are they?"
"Teacher, those are giant fiddlehead. The young shoots are good eating, as are the roots if boiled. The hair on the fiddlehead can be used to stop the bleeding of wounds."
Bak grunted and nodded. "Good, you two have learned something in the past weeks after all. During the war with the Japanese, many of us in the Burma Rifles lived off the forest for months. Everything you need to survive is here, food, water, weapons, and medicine. The forest is your friend if you know and respect her. If you are ignorant and don't respect her, she will kill you. Now, Stephen, explain to Joshua how the pig dogs hunt and-"
The lead dog abruptly spun to its right and bolted into a full run heading down the side of the ridge. Bak chuckled as he broke his horse into a trot. "Never mind, he will see for himself. Keep the dogs in sight but watch out for low branches."
As he followed Bak down the steep ridge, Joshua was beside himself with excitement. Ducking branches and trying to keep the dogs in sight while negotiating the incline required all the horsemanship skills he had learned, and more.
The excitement he felt came not just from his first pig hunt, but also from the realization that he was riding as well as Bak and Stephen. They did not have to watch out for him or give instructions as they had before. He was on his own and loving it.
At the bottom of the ridge Bak reined to a halt and pointed ahead to a stand of bamboo. "See how the dogs surround the thicket. The pig is in there. Joshua, watch now. We will see which dog is the bravest."
Joshua and Stephen came up alongside the old man just as a thin, yellow dog lowered its growling head and dashed into the bamboo. Immediately a loud squeal came from the clump, followed by a yelp and a sickening whine that seemed to infuriate the other dogs. The five other mongrels dashed into the clump. Joshua cringed as he heard the combined squealing and yelping of the ongoing hidden battle. Suddenly out of the bamboo came a bristle-haired boar in a dead run with five dogs biting at its back legs.
The mammoth boar suddenly spun around to take on its attackers. The pig's huge curved tusks flashed as it lowered its massive shoulders and slashed by jerking its head side to side.
Motioning toward the pig only twenty feet away, Bak leaned over to Joshua. "She is making her stand early. She is very smart not to be tricked into running. The dogs can run all day, but she would become very tired and unable to fight."
The boar spun left and then right at the growling dogs that circled her like hungry wolves. Sickened at the sight, Joshua swung his eyes back to the bamboo but felt worse as he guessed the fate of the yellow dog. The boar's squealing caused him to look back at the fight. One of the dogs had attacked and latched on to the maddened pig's right ear. The boar flung its head, but the tenacious dog's jaws were clamped tight. Another dog grabbed the other ear. Both mongrels were lifted from the ground and swung like rags each time the squealing boar shook its head, but they held on. Distracted with the pain of the two dogs biting her tender ears the other three dogs attacked her vulnerable underbelly.
Unable to take it anymore, Joshua yelled at Bak, "Shoot her! Don't let her die like that! Shoot her! Please!"
The Horseman stared at Joshua for a long moment before speaking above the squealing and growling. "This is the truth of the forest. If she is strong enough she will fight and live.
Killing her with a gun gives her no chance."
With tears in his eyes Joshua was drawn back to the struggle. One of the dogs that had an ear lost his grip and was flung through the air into a tree. Forgetting its other attackers, the boar charged the stunned dog and tore into its flank with its tusks. The wounded dog yelped and tried to run but the boar attacked again, catching the mongrel under its belly and ripping him open all the way to the throat. Then the other dogs were on her.
Joshua sat watching the struggle without making a sound or moving a muscle for the entire ten minutes it took for the boar to finally breathe her last. In the end she had become so weak she could not even lift her head to fight. All she could do was grunt as the dogs tore open her stomach.
Bak leaned over and put his arm over Joshua's shoulder.
"It is not a pretty thing to see, but she was an old sow with only a few seasons left. The tigers would have killed her easily within the year. Today the gods have given her a proud death. A part of life is death, and this old one died as I should want to die, fighting. To die feeble and used up is not a warrior's way and all the forest animals are warriors."
Feeling as if he were going to be sick, Josh looked away from the bloody-faced dogs. "Is the yellow dog dead too?"
Bak's brow wrinkled. "Yes, he died for his courage. Life is very strange, Joshua. We do not understand why but pig dogs live only for the hunt. They are born with the knowledge that the ears of the boar are the only vulnerable place besides the underbelly. They know that once they latch on to an ear the boar can't slash them, but they know there is a price for holding on. I have seen dogs die, smashed against rocks and trees as the boar thrashes its head about but yet the dog still holds on even in death. The yellow dog attacked alone knowing it would die, but yet it attacked. It was driven by the hunt ... by something in its being that needed to kill the boar."
Bak sighed and patted the boy's back. "Do not mourn for the dogs or pig. Such is life for death comes to us all. Today the dogs and the pig met death and did so bravely. It was a good death and that is all any of us could ask for."
Joshua looked into the old man's eyes. "Teacher, why do you want to die fighting?"
Bak knitted his brow. "I am a Horseman, little Sao. It is a Horseman's death to be like the pig and make a last stand to face the enemy a final time. To join my ancestors with sword or rifle in hand gives me eternal glory and honor. My name would be spoken over every hunter's campfire in the telling of stories of brave men. I would live forever, little Sao ... forever in the hearts of the Shan."
Joshua bowed his head in understanding. "Knowledge will give me strength, Teacher."
Night gave way to morning, leaving a whispy white mist that floated along the dank forest floor. Joshua and Stephen rode in single file up a switch backing trail. Both boys were silent as they listened to the morning birds high above in the green canopy. Joshua suddenly checked his horse and narrowed his eyes.
Stephen reined up and looked where Joshua was focusing his attention but didn't see anything. He whispered, "Did you see something?"
Joshua's eyes didn't move as he slowly pulled the old British Enfield from the saddle boot and whispered back, "There are two gyi just beyond the bend behind the bamboo stand.
We'll dismount here and wait for them.... They're moving toward us."
Stephen looked again toward the bend in the trail. "Are you certain? I do not see them."
"They're there," said Joshua, climbing down from the saddle. He took several steps, halted, thumbed off the safety, and slowly raised his rifle.
Stephen joined his friend seconds later and kneeled. Still keeping his eyes on the track, Joshua whispered, "You take the first when they come into view again. I'll take the second."
Stephen began to smile, thinking it was another of Joshua's jokes, when to his astonishment two gyi stepped out from behind the clump of bamboo just fifty yards away. The one in the lead was larger and darker in color, its head erect and alert as it looked and smelled for danger. Sensing a threat, the lead gyi abruptly stopped, swinging its head right and left, its large brown eyes searching. Stephen raised his rifle, but seeing his sudden movement, the animal bolted.
Joshua fired, and the second gyi toppled over. Running forward, Joshua worked the bolt while keeping his eyes on the escaping leader. It was bounding down the ridge, having to zig and zag around the monstrous teaks. Joshua stopped, raised the weapon, and fired again.
He stood with the rifle held to his shoulder, not moving a muscle. He was waiting for everything to come back into focus. He had not heard his two shots nor had he seen the trees, mist, or vegetation. All he had seen were the two gyi; everything else had blurred. He had seen the first one quiver just before it bolted. He had seen indecision in the second animal's eyes just before the bullet struck. The escaping gyi's eyes had been at first full of fear, but the look had changed to hope when it thought it would live. Its huge brown eyes had dulled in that instant the bullet tore into its flesh.
Forged in Honor (1995) Page 4
