Spirit Quest

by Jennifer Frick-Ruppert

  Andacon, who always led his twin, stepped up and delivered five shots, all of which hit the mark straight on. His brother, in what I suspected was a nod to the other’s skill, hit the first four, but pulled the last one just barely outside the marked ring. Elders often said that the younger twin of a pair carried the wisdom of the shaman while the older was destined to be a strong warrior, and these two fit the description exactly.

  Embarrassed now, I determined to do a better job. I picked out the target first, nocked the arrow in the correct position on the bowstring, then brought up the bow and arrow together, pulled the string to my cheek, and let fly. While I didn’t hit the mark dead on, at least it was a good shot, within a finger’s breadth of the mark.

  “Nice one!” Cossine said. “Now the others just like that.” My next three shots were also acceptable, hitting the target, but not the central circle.

  “Retrieve your arrows, boys. Another round, please.”

  During the next round, some of my arrows hit the central mark, but all the arrows of the other boys did. If I thought Cossine would praise me for getting the hang of it, I was wrong. He kept exacting accuracy, urging each of us to hit the center target every time, dissatisfied with anything less than a direct hit. We kept going, shooting arrow after arrow. My shoulders started shaking from the effort of drawing the bow, and my accuracy declined. When the arrows of the other boys also began to hit wide of the mark, Cossine called an end to practice.

  “You will gain in strength and in accuracy. Tomorrow we meet here again. We will not hunt until I am satisfied that all of you can hit the center of the target every single time. It requires strength and accuracy to bring down a deer.” He looked at me and my face flushed. I heard the two brothers snicker, and Ascopo glared at them.

  “This afternoon Tetepano will teach you the atlatl. Maybe you will find that more to your liking, Skyco.” I felt humiliated.

  Glad to be finished with Cossine, we left the practice field, and Ascopo walked out with me.

  “I can’t believe he called me out like that,” I complained to Ascopo.

  “Well, Skyco, it is true that you need some more practice. Just keep at it. You’ll improve.”

  Since I didn’t feel much like continuing the conversation with Ascopo, I thought that perhaps I would visit my sister to see how she was doing with her training. Mamankanois sat on a reed mat just outside our mother’s wigwam, sewing some of the pretty coquina shells onto a white deerskin cloak. As I approached, she set aside her work to greet me.

  “Skyco!” she called out. “How glad I am to see you! These shells you brought mother are beautiful even if sewing them onto the skin is a bit of a challenge.”

  She was using a fish bone with a slight curve to it to pierce the skin and pull through a short length of dried deer sinew, nearly identical to the method that Eracano used to sew up Roncommock’s wound. She tied down the coquina through a hole at its apex so that the shell lay flat against the skin, but not so tightly as to prevent the shell from swinging slightly when the wearer moved.

  “See how these shells will dance as the wearer dances, making a nice sound as they clap together. We will add the other shells you brought us, too, and they will jingle together to make music.” She shook the cloak, and the shells created a pleasing tinkle. “I can look forward to the next dance now.”

  “This is a beautiful cloak you are making, Mamankanois. You will look good in it.”

  “Oh, I am slow compared to the older women. They can sew much faster than I can, but I am learning. And I hope that I do look good in it.” She paused momentarily, looking off into the distance with a slight smile on her face, but then returned to her practical self. “How was your bow training this morning?”

  “I am not as good as Cossine thinks that I should be. The bow is hard to draw. But later today I work with Tetepano to learn the atlatl, and I think I may be better with it.”

  “Well you had better get good with one of them, because you must kill a deer before the husquenaugh. You don’t want to embarrass our family by not being able to even participate in the husquenaugh this year. Menatonon would disown you.”

  My face reddened when I realized that she was right. Not only must I kill a deer for the spirit quest to be interpreted for me, the kill was the first step in the husquenaugh ritual, too. I must work harder tomorrow with Cossine. “I am off now to talk with Roncommock. Is there a cornmeal cake left from this morning’s breakfast? I am hungry.”

  “Yes, there on a stone by the fire. Still warm, I imagine.”

  I took a swig of water from the water gourd, the macócqwer that my mother always keeps just inside the door, and found the cake of cornmeal on the stone by the fire as my sister had said. Although I now lived in Roncommock’s family wigwam, it was nice to visit home and find it as I expected.

  “I will stop again this time tomorrow to see how you are progressing with the cloak. Tell mother I will be here then. I missed seeing her today. Where is she anyway?”

  “She is attending the birth of a new clan member. Cháppacor felt the labor pains early this morning and we expect the baby to come later today. All the women of the clan are there to welcome the new member of our clan and of our village.”

  “Why aren’t you there, then, Mamankanois?” I chewed my cornmeal cake thoughtfully.

  “Only those who have already given birth assist in the delivery. I haven’t started my courses yet, haven’t entered the woman’s wigwam even once.”

  It was time to get out of here. “See you tomorrow, sister.”

  Roncommock was waiting for me when I arrived at his wigwam for our session together. “How was your bow training? Both the spirit quest and the husquenaugh require that you kill a deer.”

  Him, too? Was everyone going to remind me of this? But Roncommock’s unwelcome comment focused me back on the problem of the husquenaugh itself. Although Ascopo and I talked about it, and even asked Chaham, no one really knew what the husquenaugh was like until he experienced it. It was a ritual that must be completed in order to become a full member of the tribe. Some boys never returned from the husquenaugh wigwam. We heard that they were dead, and I have seen their mothers wail just as they do when one of the tribe dies. However, last year one of these “dead” boys came to the busk at Chowanook, traveling with his kin from another village. He was clearly not dead in reality, even if he was dead to the kin in Chowanook. I wondered what had happened.

  “There is plenty of time yet,” I said with some irritation as my nervousness showed itself.

  Roncommock sighed and said, “You will be prepared, Skyco. You will be successful at the hunt. You must.” He looked at me and I understood the importance of what he was telling me. He will prepare me, but I must be successful. There was no margin for error.

  “Tell me what you have learned now that you have experienced the mind and body of an ant and a fish,” he said without further elaboration.

  The dry cake seemed to stick in my throat. “First, I learned how differently they sense the world around them. The ant smells everything using its antennae. The fish feels the pressure changes in the water but does not feel the temperature of the water.”

  “Good. But what else?”

  “I learned hunting technique from the fish: to wait patiently, to stalk quietly, to strike quickly and with all effort.” I paused and considered for a moment. “When it is time for me to hunt, that is what I must do. You showed me, didn’t you?”

  “Yes, Skyco. I told you that you would be prepared. Everything you are learning is important and may affect you in ways you do not anticipate. Learning occurs not only when you are memorizing family clans, but every time you have a new experience. If you pay attention, take the time to consider the experience and understand its significance, you will grow in knowledge throughout your whole life. Part of Menatonon’s wisdom comes from his age, for he has seen and exper
ienced much, but part also comes from his thoughtfulness and consideration. He has never quit learning, even now in his old age and crippled body.” He paused, then asked, “What else can you tell me of the fish and the ant?”

  “The largemouth bass was a loner, a solitary predator. The small fish schooled together for protection, but both the largemouth bass and the gar were predators on their own. The ants, on the other hand, were always part of a large village. They did everything for the village so that the individual hardly mattered. They fought and gathered food, not chiefly for themselves, but instead for all members of their village.”

  “And what does this mean for you, Skyco? What can you learn from these different ways of life among the other inhabitants of our land?”

  “We are in between these extremes, I think. Our village, like that of the ant, is how we organize our lives; our village deserves our support and protection. We work together to bring in food. We hold a great celebration with the whole tribe when we harvest our crops. We function best as a community. But we also hunt as individuals and bring down our prey like the bass or the wolf or the cougar does. And even if we are young or old or wounded, we can still participate in the village life, the way we send children and elders to guard the cornfield. The ants care too little for the individual, the bass too much. I am glad to be a human in between, part of a village with my family near me, but also able to be myself.”

  “Well done, Skyco. You have learned your lessons from these animals. Our initial training together has been successful and prepared you for the hunt.”

  I nearly interrupted him, “But can I at least tell you what happened to me on the banks even if you can’t interpret it until I finish the hunt?”

  “Certainly you can tell me what you saw and what you think you learned.”

  “Well, point number one is definitely never to enter a fish weir with a bloody toe!”

  Roncommock had to chuckle at that. “Interesting that you bring that up. When your mother passed by here this morning, she left this for you.” He held up a necklace of shark teeth, the very ones I had picked up and given to Mother along with the shells. I put on the necklace and felt the sharp teeth against my collarbone. I was glad the teeth were not in the mouth of the shark. “Few people wear shark teeth as a talisman, Skyco. Truly you have the favor of the spirits.”

  “I am not boasting or offending the spirits, am I, Roncommock?”

  “Not when you earn the right to wear those by feeling the teeth of the shark.”

  It was true. Roncommock now wore a bear’s tooth dangling from his left ear after surviving the fight with the bear in the early spring.

  “But back to work. Tell me, Skyco. What did you see while you were on the sandy banks and what did you learn?”

  For a few moments, I just thought about it, and what came to my mind was the image of standing on top of the giant sand dune and seeing the ocean stretch out into the distance—the blue of the sky meeting the blue of the sea in an uninterrupted line as far as I could see, and closer, the break in the white line of sea meeting land, where the inlet with its sandy shoals provided a passageway between the sea and the sound. I remembered the sunrise, and the stars at night, and the walk on the beach when my senses were altered; all these impressions passed through my mind’s eye, but the images that returned most strongly were the endless onrushing of the sea and the turbulent currents of the inlet. Then I remembered the menacing, dark cloud over the ocean as it rushed ominously onshore and suddenly disappeared. Clearly, that was an image sent by the spirits.

  “It is a place to seek the spirits. I feel a strong connection to the sea. The view from the top of that highest sand dune is spectacular, with the sea stretching out to infinity and the path of the inlet from the sea into the sound so clearly outlined. The water connects it all: from the river to the sound to the sea, fish, or men in canoes, can pass from one to the next. The water breaks the land into islands or into the banks and the mainland. As animals of the land, we often think of the land as providing the connection, but it is really the water that connects. Being the fish taught me that. This place of unification is an important place, a place where distinctions dissolve as the water and land—even the sun, moon, and wind—unite in harmony. I saw the sun itself rise up out of the sea, and I felt the wind as it blew in from the sea to the land. The water connects them, too.” I paused and looked at Roncommock, who was watching me intently, and then I continued, “I think that the spirits walked with me, for I saw details so clearly and time seemed to slow down. A cold cloud was there at first and then not there in another heartbeat. A bird was struck down by an eagle and then another came skimming in the inlet, leading a whole flock, stark white and bigger than life. As I watched the men work the weirs, they disappeared and reappeared. I was not sure if what I saw was real or not real.”

  Then Roncommock stood up and began to walk around the wigwam. “Could he be the one? It is still too soon,” he muttered to himself. Then he stopped pacing and looked at me again with that intensity of concentration that he showed before. “Is there more?”

  “A dream,” I replied.

  “Tell me of this dream,” Roncommock said as he sat down curtly.

  I replied, “It was actually two dreams, but related to each other. I was in the body of a bear,” I could see Roncommock draw a sharp breath at that, but I continued, “in a manner similar to how you placed me in the ant and in the fish, but less firmly lodged there somehow. I could see and sense through the bear. First, I saw the village disappear, replaced by vast, straight rows of corn—of pagatowr. It was not just our crop fields grown large, because the planting was completely different. It seemed so unnatural to have pagatowr planted without its companions and in such long lines without regard to the shape of the land, the forces of nature, or the people who planted it. This dream frightened me and I awoke when a great beast roared at me.” I paused, remembering the sensation of awakening in a sweat, still hearing roaring in my ears and slowly recognizing it as surf and Ascopo’s snoring.

  “After I fell asleep again, still as the bear, I saw very strange men. These men wore unusual clothing that covered all parts of the bodies except their faces, but their faces grew hair like a bear. They even smelled of a wet animal; I remember thinking that I had never smelled such an animal before. This dream was not as frightening, but just as confusing.

  “Then, the next day, I saw my own face replaced with that of a bear as I looked at my image in a pool. After that was when I walked the beach and saw all I have told you. I cannot understand these strange things, but they trouble me.”

  Roncommock looked at me a long time without speaking, and I could see his mind turning.

  “Skyco, I am not permitted to interpret your dream before you complete the husquenaugh, but I can reveal another’s. Eracano made an important prediction for Menatonon. Men will come from the ocean to the east, through the inlet, and here to our village. They will bring with them great opportunity and grave threat. Eracano is not able to clarify what the benefits will be or what the threat actually entails and he cannot predict when the strangers will arrive.”

  I sensed that Roncommock was holding something back from me, but he had already revealed so much that perhaps I was just imagining it. A prophecy from Eracano about our village and white men! Of course! It had not occurred to me, but the bear-man in my dream must be a white man. The fancy clothes and hairy face were the clues, even if I did not see his skin.

  We had heard the stories of men with white skin, hairy faces, and fancy clothing that visited other tribes. The strange looking men have long sharp knives that never dull and extremely long pipes whose poisonous smoke kills us but spares them. Sometimes, they steal away the people and take them to the spirit world, never to return. At other times, they leave behind an invisible fire that kills the people in the village and against which the medicine men are impotent. These strange men come from the
south, marching over land, but I had never heard of them coming from the sea.

  “From the sea?” I couldn’t help but utter. “How can they come from the sea?”

  “Eracano didn’t say. I suppose they have canoes as we do.”

  “But we never go to sea in them. Our biggest canoes traverse the sound, but not the sea. There is not a tree big enough from which to make bigger canoes,” I said, brimming with confidence after my training period with Memeo the canoe builder.

  Roncommock sighed. “I don’t know, Skyco. That is what he said and that is all I can tell you.” Addressing me less directly, Roncommock continued, “I wish we had started your bow training earlier. You may need the skills sooner than I thought.” About to add more, he caught himself in time. “Never mind. Your training is progressing at its appropriate pace. We will know when the time comes.”

  I was getting a little worried with all this discussion of my future while I was standing right in front of him. He seemed hardly to see me. “Tetepano meets with me later today for atlatl training, master. I am busy learning bow technique from Cossine. I will apply myself.”

  “Do so, Skyco. And reveal nothing you have learned about the prophecy given to your kin. Eracano made his prophecy to Menatonon. The spirits do not look kindly on their sacred words passing from man to man, or boy to boy, without their consent. It seems the spirits are calling to you as well, revealing themselves in the form of the bear and giving you advice on the future. I thought you would receive such a guide, but for the spirits to make contact before the husquenaugh is complete—even before the sacred hunt has begun—has never occurred before, and I am keeper of our tribe’s knowledge. This must be the reason the spirits sent you on the quest; they could contact you because you were on the sacred dune. There is no doubt you will play a central role in what is coming. Perhaps that is what Eracano foresaw on the night before you departed. I must consider what you have told me and consult with Eracano.” Roncommock bustled out of his wigwam in an atypical rush. So did I.