When Tetepano arrived at the practice field, I already awaited him, well ahead of the other boys.
“I like to see an eager student,” he said as he pulled out the equipment from a large basket slung over his back.
“I wish to learn, master.”
“Okay, then, tell me what you know of these,” and he indicated a jumble of items as the other boys walked up.
I picked up the three spears first. Each was as long as I am tall. “These are the spears, with shafts that appear to be made from black locust saplings and flaked quartz heads tied on with a strip of leather made from deer hide.” I turned them upside down, pointing at the end opposite the head, and said, “These are the feathers that help the spear fly true, and behind them the spear ends in a notch into which the atlatl is set.” I set the spears aside and picked up a shorter stick, about the length of my forearm, with a handgrip carved at one end and a peg carved in the other. “This is the atlatl.” I picked up one of the spears and fitted its notched end onto the peg while holding the handgrip of the atlatl firmly.
“Excellent, Skyco. Now let’s see you throw it.”
That turned out to be the hard part. I couldn’t get the spear to remain positioned on the atlatl and its peg. Holding both the handgrip of the atlatl and the spear itself was more than my fingers could keep organized. The spear kept falling off the atlatl peg before I could throw it.
“Let me show you a trick to help you learn the technique,” Tetepano said. “All of you gather round me here and observe.” He quickly set the atlatl and spear in his hand. “Hold the spear gently between your index finger and thumb, but bend your wrist back so that the atlatl rests on your palm and is firmly gripped by your remaining fingers. Your thumb and index finger should hold the spear in the correct position. The force of the throw will come from the forward motion of your arm, but the atlatl will amplify it. Using the atlatl lengthens your throwing arm and causes the spear to fly faster and with more force than you can generate from throwing the spear with your arm alone. Make your throw smooth and end it sharply with a slight flick of your wrist as the spear releases. Like this,” he said and threw a spear perfectly so that it sailed through the air like a giant arrow, embedding itself deeply in the ground where it hit.
“Okay, all of you pick up an atlatl and a spear. Let’s see what you can do.”
At first, all of us made throws that were awkward. The others were not ahead of me on this weapon! In my first few attempts, the spear mostly just fell out onto the ground in front of me, but I kept trying until I finally threw one as it was meant to be.
“That’s it!” Tetepano proclaimed triumphantly. “Not too forcefully yet; keep practicing the technique. Once you can feel the right position, you can add the power. The motion is much like that of throwing a stone or spear without the atlatl. You need to open up your stance so that your left foot and leg are in the direction of your target,” he said as he kicked his foot between mine, gently moving them until the left was a little forward of the right. “Now, when you throw, stride toward the target with your left leg and swing the right leg forward as you thrust ahead with your right arm and body.” Here he paused and directed his attention away from me. “You, Osocan, who throws with his left hand, you must lead with your right leg instead.” Tetepano turned back toward me, again addressing me primarily, rather than the other boys. “You will gain power if your step and throw are smoothly coordinated. Push off on the ball of your foot. Put your whole body into the throw. Again!”
We kept throwing, each with his own atlatl, and Tetepano wandered up and down between the four of us, providing suggestions and making adjustments. I began to feel comfortable with the throwing motion.
Tetepano paused beside me again and seemed pleased with my progress. Deciding that I could add some power without losing the right motion, I really put my shoulder and bicep muscle into one throw while stepping forward with purpose, and was astounded to see the spear point embed itself deep into the tree that was our target. The shaft of the spear quivered from the impact. The other boys stopped their throws and looked at me, Ascopo and Osocan in admiration, but Andacon glaring.
“Skyco! That was great! It is only your first day and you have control and power, too. Perhaps this is your weapon,” Tetepano said to me as Andacon sulked.
“I sure like it better than the bow. Drawing the bow hurts my shoulder and the string stings my wrist, which it hits much too frequently.”
Andacon laughed at that, but Tetepano continued, “Then you must practice with the bow. A great chief demonstrates mastery of all the weapons, although I hear your natural bent inclines more toward the healing arts. Perhaps you will be a priestly chief instead of a warrior chief.”
“How do you know this? What have you heard about me?” I asked with some apprehension.
“Oh, everyone has heard how you treated Roncommock when he was mauled by the bear. Now the fishermen say that you healed yourself after being bitten by a great shark. They ran off and gathered the herbs you instructed them to find, and prepared them as you described, and you were up and walking around the next day. I am sorry I did not see that myself, but I was here in the village with my wife and new baby daughter while you were fishing.”
The steam was nearly boiling off Andacon. Because we had worked on the canoe, Ascopo and I were allowed on the fishing expedition, but Andacon and Osocan stayed in the village with the other children, the women, the elders, and a few men such as Tetepano whose wives were pregnant or had just given birth. Instead of traveling away from the village on hunting, fishing, or war raids, they provided game animals as food for the villagers while the rest of the men were away.
“Now, Tetepano, those stories have been embellished a little bit.” The last thing I wanted was to have all the other boys angry and jealous. I remembered how Ascopo reacted to my adventures, and he was on my side. Andacon and Osocan were not.
“Any story worth telling has been embellished a little bit, Skyco, but the best stories are born from an honest seed that simply grows a little in the retelling of it. See, you wear the teeth of a shark, so it must be true,” Tetepano said with a wry smile. “And believe me, I know a good story!”
Thankfully, Ascopo jumped into the conversation. Laughing aloud, he said, “Yes, Tetepano, you can certainly spin a highly entertaining tale. We heard many good ones while we worked on that canoe together. Tell us again of the time the buck outsmarted you. That one is my favorite.”
Tetepano launched into the hunting tale, and Andacon and Osocan were hanging on every word, just as Ascopo and I did the first time we heard it. Finishing the story, he cried, “Ah, but you have distracted me. Back to work, all of you.” By the end of the practice period, I felt comfortable with the weapon. Every one of us could hit the mark, but I was the only one who managed to combine force with accuracy.
“We will continue with atlatl training tomorrow. See you all then.” Tetepano dismissed us. I was the last to return my weapon to his basket, and as I did, I said to him, “Your stories are so entertaining that I think you should become my master of storytelling in addition to my master of atlatl!”
“I find that both are useful arts. A chief needs many skills.”
Over the next few days, I practiced hard at the bow and arrow. Ascopo was even willing to spend what little free time we had in more target practice with me. The other boys were quickly bored with Cossine’s bow lessons, but I continued to improve as I listened to his instructions. Soon we were standing at some distance from the target, and we graduated from shooting at a ring drawn on a pile of dirt to shooting at a deerskin stuffed with pine needles and grasses. When all of us could regularly hit the deerskin on the mark at twenty paces, Cossine declared that it was time for a hunt. Truthfully, I think he was ready for his obligation of training to be complete.
Perhaps because the other boys already handled the bow so well, they never really
took to the atlatl. I was better than any of them with it. Tetepano did not seem surprised when I asked if I could use the atlatl rather than the bow to make my first kill. He conferred with Cossine, who agreed, if reluctantly.
“You know you need to be skilled with the bow as well, Skyco,” Cossine said.
“Yes, master,” I replied. “But does it matter whether I use a spear or an arrow to kill my first deer?”
“No, it does not. And your skill with the bow is sufficient. You are as accurate now as the other boys are. You should, perhaps, be required to shoot with the bow so that you will gain confidence, but,” he paused and I held my breath, “you may choose your weapon.”
I released a sigh. If I could kill a deer, I would be one step closer to being a man.
Cossine, Tetepano, and we four boys set out early the next morning to test our skills. Ascopo, Andacon, and Osocan each carried a bow and five arrows, but I took an atlatl and three spears. Cossine had his bow, and Tetepano carried his atlatl. Each of us also had a deer hide, which we wore to stalk the deer. We traveled to one of the best hunting locations, a wet, grassy meadow along a small stream that fed the Chowan.
Tetepano showed us the tracks from a buck deer that was traveling with a herd of does and he asked Andacon to identify them. He was proud to show off. The male’s toes were spaced wider apart and the prints were deeper, indicating a heavier animal. In addition, the buck’s greater size appeared in the longer stride length between the front and rear prints and the wider width between the paired front prints, but it was tricky to keep up with each individual’s line of prints. The prints were extremely fresh, little crisp pieces of soil clung to their outline, and indicated that the buck was traveling with a herd of four females.
Tetepano whispered to us that we four boys must work together to take the buck as our first kill, for his strength and power would transfer to us. We were fortunate to find such a large animal as part of our sacred hunt. Apparently, the spirits were watching. All of us needed to stalk slowly toward the herd, getting well within range. Andacon and Osocan, the two accomplished deer mimics, would lead us, but I would give the signal to attack. Tetepano stressed again that all four of us must shoot. It might take more than one arrow to bring down the big buck. We could each identify our arrows, based on the tail feathers and the point, and my spear was obviously different from the arrows, so we would know who hit the deer and who missed.
There was no wind, but we donned our skins to mask our human scent. Walking slowly, with the skins around our shoulders, we paused at Andacon’s signal that he’d sighted the deer. The rest of us leaned down and pulled up the heads of the skins, putting one hand up into the skull to move it around. We looked like real deer, moving the deer heads as if they were sniffing the air or leaning down to eat a mouthful of grass. Hunched over so that our size and shape were about right, we approached the deer, looking out carefully between the front legs of the skin. I saw the big buck, which seemed twice as large as the females. In this early season, his antlers were still covered in soft, brown skin.
The deer looked up at us, and we stopped moving forward. I held my breath and looked at how Andacon and Osocan were nodding the heads and stretching the noses up as if our group was scenting the other deer. I copied their movements, as did Ascopo. I lost track of Tetepano and Cossine, who were probably behind us. Andacon and Osocan were a up ahead, and Ascopo was directly beside me. The herd returned to feeding, flicking their tails a little nervously, but apparently deciding that we were acceptable deer.
Andacon motioned me forward. He was agitated, clearly ready to strike, but I knew it was too soon to shoot. I remembered how the kowabetteo hunted as we approached the deer slowly and carefully, taking our time to get as close as possible before striking. I stayed calm and hunted like the fish. Once I felt that we were close enough, my heart beat faster. I lowered my deer-skin head toward the ground, as if feeding, then pulled my hand out of the skull, signaled the boys behind me, and readied my weapon. I paused briefly to allow time for the other boys to nock arrows in their bows.
It was hard to hold my weapons while hiding under the deerskin, but I made sure I had the proper placement of the spear on the atlatl, and I remembered to position my feet correctly. I took a deep breath and made a single throaty grunt. Shrugging off the skin, I stood and threw the spear in one motion, and I saw three arrows fly at once. Behind us, Cossine and Tetepano each stood up, but neither released an arrow or spear. The great buck took one gigantic leap and crashed to the ground.
All of us whooped with joy. We jumped up, holding our weapons high. We did it! We ran up to the deer and saw four arrows clustered together in a perfect position, just behind the front leg. My heart skipped a beat because I did not initially see my spear, but then I realized it was because it had gone directly through the ribcage, into the heart, and out the other side. Only a short length, its feather fletching mixed up with that of the arrows, stuck out of the body on the side facing us. The fourth arrow was actually my spear. I made the fatal throw, which stopped the buck cold.
Andacon clapped me on the shoulder, and addressed me for the first time ever in our training. “I thought the atlatl was a primitive weapon, but it was your spear that killed the buck so quickly.” He nearly smiled at me, but caught himself in time. “Well, we all hit it; it would have died in any case,” he quickly added.
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you,” Tetepano said. “The spear is larger and can be thrown with more force. I prefer it for large animals like this great buck.”
“This is truly cause for celebration,” Cossine added. “This buck was pierced by three arrows and a spear. You can all claim the kill. You are all accepted by the spirits to enter the husquenaugh. Well done!”
The buck was still moving his head weakly when we approached him, his lifeblood draining out of the wounds. I saw the light fading from his eyes and my joy at making the kill was tempered by sadness at the great buck’s passing. When he finally stilled, Cossine wiped his thumb through the buck’s blood and drew a line across the forehead of each of us. We paused to pray to the buck’s spirit, thanking him for his death and the food he would provide our village. Cossine and Tetepano stood back at a little distance until our prayers were finished. I looked up and saw that I was the last one to stand.
Getting the deer out of the forest and back to the village took a bit of effort. The buck was too big to carry over any one’s shoulders, so we tied it to the middle of a stout pole, allowing us to carry it on the shoulders of two of us positioned at either end of the pole. I was reminded somewhat of the sling we made to carry Roncommock after the bear wounded him, though this one was much simpler—however, the deer was at least as heavy as Roncommock. We took turns carrying it, Andacon and Osocan working together, and Ascopo and me teaming up. We finally approached the village, and all four of us proudly shouldered the deer together.
With the deer on our shoulders and the red smear of blood on our foreheads, everyone knew that we made a successful kill. The news raced ahead, and my mother, my sister, Roncommock, and chief Menatonon stood by the central fire to congratulate us. The chief clasped each of us on our shoulders and nodded to us as a gesture of respect. I had never felt so proud.
After the greetings and congratulations ended, the four of us worked together to skin and gut the deer. We left the steaming intestines on the far side of the midden for the other animals to eat. My mother took the liver and heart and boiled them in a special pot. We four boys would share the organ meat in the evening, again taking on the power of the buck as we consumed his vital organs. We cut up the meat from the deer and set it to roast on the central fire, where all members of the village will share it.
After the meat was cut up and given to our mothers to cook, we four began the process of tanning the hide, carefully cleaning it of any fat or flesh by scraping it with sturgeon scutes. It took all four of us to stretch it out onto
a wooden frame, and we propped it up next to the fire to dry all night. The next morning we moved it out into the sun and let it dry there all day. Meanwhile, I boiled the brains in a little water until they were very soft and mushy, then late in the day, a full day after skinning the animal, we met again to rub the brains of the deer into the flesh side of the skin to make it soft and pliable. We took the treated skin off the frame, balled it up carefully so that the brains did not get on the fur side, and let it rest another full day and an extra night.
The last part—making the skin soft—took the longest. We met by the fire on the third morning and stretched the hide back on the frame, where we scraped off the goopy brain mush with dulled shells. We scraped and scraped, then took it off the frame and stretched and pulled the skin in every direction. It was helpful to have four of us participating. After several rounds of scraping and stretching, which took most of the day, we had a soft, tanned hide.
Since my mother was head woman, we presented the hide to her, and from it she cut four new loincloths. It was a good thing that the deer was so large and we were relatively small, for getting four cloths out of one hide must have been a challenge. My mother managed to make them so that most of the cloth that hung in front of the belt was white from the belly fur, and the portion that was tucked in under the belt was brown, from the back of the animal. My loincloth was the most attractive of the four. It had red dyed fringe at both the top and bottom to indicate my status as heir, and it also had two bands of red, one for Roncommock and one for me, both indicating a dangerous encounter that drew blood but was successfully treated. My sister added a few of the jingle shells to the fringe, which made a nice decoration and reminded me constantly of my trip to the sea.
Spirit Quest Page 16
