Spirits of the Wildflowers

by Parris Match

  Hoocoh spoke; “Ahcoo’ah salutes the courageous Dacoh”, “He takes pride in his son, Dacoh”, “Ask of necessity and it shall be provided”, “Ahcoo’ah said; ‘Remember’ all ways of what he has told you”.

  Dacoh, gesturing to the over-powering presence of the mountain massif, heart-fully stated; “My good loyal brothers”, “The kindly grand Spirit of the benevolent mountains, must smile down on you”.

  “What of the stolen goods?” Oocaie asked.

  “The fragrant blossom wilts in my hand”, Dacoh sadly replied, “I must closely watch over my withered flower”.

  The brothers waited as Dacoh transferred the delivered supplies to the inside of the lodge, and then left him until morning.

  Dacoh poured some pure spring water into a large clay bowl, soaked a few sections of the split buckskin within, wringing a sopped piece he began to bathe the withered body of his uncovered yet dimly lit enclosed pet. He gently wiped and rinsed her alluring shuttered comatose face with the cool water, swabbed and rinsed her quiet non-responsive body, from the throat of her graceful neck to the tops of her tiny feet. Carefully turning her over, Dacoh washed and rinsed the saline grime from his desired treasure; coolly and slowly swabbing the nape of her neck, to lightly bathe down her back, and over her plump bulbous flanks, descending, cleansing her lissome willowy legs to soothe the battered soles of her delicate feet. He rolled and returned the limp fawn to laying on her back; through the murky light he saw the glint of her open eyes; not a sound, not a single movement; he reached for the water-bag, held her head, and let her sip drink. Dacoh took the pure creamy aloe-tallow and softly kneaded the coarse scored chafed wrists of his formerly bound captive; she did not twitch or move a muscle, but he could sense her black probing suspicious eyes upon him; he tenderly, soothingly, slowly kneaded the herb scented tallow salve into her bruised and abraded feet. He again, raised her head, and let her drink; lastly covering his pet’s subdued cool numbed body with a soft furry pelt; the agitated and spurred Dacoh arose onto his feet and left the fragranced oval wickerup to relieve himself.

  The highest and loftiest glorious roseate position, seen there transparent to vanishing, some last hope-tinted auras of the indirect twilight, gossamer golden and pink on its final laciest altitude, at the edge of this unsure auspicious day. Dacoh heard a momentary rustling in the bushes; “Aie?” he promptly called out.

  “It is your brother Hoocoh”; came the quick reply, “I wait here to see to your needs”.

  As Dacoh looked at the blurred silhouette standing not too far from him, he answered, “You are a good brother, Hoocoh”.

  Dacoh understood the weak-limbed Hoocoh’s innate necessity for frequent reassurance and proof of worth, so he made a kindly request; “Let me retrieve some water-bags”; he quickly slipped in and out of the wickerup, wrongly handed the leathern containers directly to Hoocoh, saying; “If my able brother could bring me the gift of pure fresh water”. Hoocoh cheerfully stumbled off into the darkness.

  Inside the animal scented comfort of the pitch-black wickerup, inattentive moments hardly exist; Dacoh felt his way to the side of his moist pet, scooped and ate some corn-mush and drank but a measure of water, and went into guarded sleep, nearby to his safe beautiful vale.

  Night-dreams of snarling ravenous cruel unimaginable beasts, so filled Dacoh’s distressed sleeping mind, that his taut body wrenched and tossed forth and back; the voracious evil creatures ripped into his tender bowels, tearing his heart from where it lay; greedily rending his vital promise, and hatefully devoured his bloody shredded carcass, leaving almost nothing to remain; but a vast dappled field of black and grey polished stones, with a brilliant scattered display of open crimson flowers.

  A low whimper from his pet, awoke Dacoh, he looked to see the wary fawns constringent stare pleading back at him; he helped her to her feet, to the outside and beyond the lodge, and briefly turned his back to her. The golden arc of the Sun was currently breaking over the commanding escarpment, when Dacoh heard the deliberately apparent voices approaching the vicinity of the wickerup; he hurriedly shepherded the young maiden back inside the little thatched hut, encouragingly and gently laid her in the furry nest, and then swiftly exited the sanctuary to meet the eyes of his considerate brothers.

  “Aie Dacoh!!!” the brothers called out as they emerged from the bushes.

  “What of your pleasing plunder”, Oocaie asked.

  “She now stands”, Dacoh answered, “I must be watchful; and carefully tend to my little pet”.

  “We brought you corn-mush, beans, pinion nuts, and water”, said Oocaie, as the three brothers indicated their offerings.

  “Dacoh!” Hoocoh announced, “Ahcoo’ah will come soon”, “He wants to speak to his son; the brave Dacoh”.

  Dacoh was elated with Hoocoh’s message.

  “What of your exciting journey”, Eeboh asked.

  “I have much to tell you”, Dacoh responded, “I will tell you the story of my adventure on the morrow of my fulfilled duty”.

  “We sit for that day”, Oocaie replied cheekily; smirking.

  Eeboh inquired of Dacoh, “Will your faithful brothers get something for you”.

  “No!”, Dacoh said, “I must see to my task”, “Ahcoo’ah will come”.

  Dacoh gathered the provisions that his kinsmen had delivered and moved these contributions to the inside of the wickerup; while his loyal brothers turned and disappeared, vanishing into the surrounding crackling brush, returning to the togetherness of their gradually brightening village.

  Flinty black inquisitive eyes met his entrance into the spotty shadowed hut, Dacoh was pleased to see the partial return of the fawns natural livelier spirit; her distrustful itinerant eyes emitted the energy of a caged and injured animal, Dacoh must use great caution; if he moved too fast and upset the young pup, she would instinctively bite into his flesh. Dacoh sat the girl upright, watchful not to offend, making sure the comforting pelt draped her body; he took the fresh bowl of corn-mush and imitated eating at it and then handed it to the fawn; shifting a water-bag close to her, Dacoh slipped a considered distance away and turned his back, giving the young woman a sense of privacy to retreat. He could hear the reassuring slurping sound of the famished girl, wolfing down this essential nourishment; he smiled to himself, he was happy, she would stand strong again.

  The young woman finished eating; Dacoh returned to her halfdown-cast tentative stare, he carefully reached for some food for himself, giving no hint of invading her space, she cautiously laid herself back into the furry cocoon, and drugged with food, she again fell into sleep.

  “DACOH!” Came a loud call from outside.

  “Dacoh’ah!!”, came the repeated call.

  Aie, Dacoh gladly thought; his highly venerated father, Ahcoo’ah, was here.

  Dacoh, looking forward to this confirmative visit, exited the controlled wickerup to see, the taller, tightly-deerskin-wrapped, well-weathered, aged Ahcoo’ah standing stately, alone and apart, at the low brushy edge of the secluded clearing. This common stilted man, yet chosen guardian of The Forgotten Ones; with streaked graying hair framing his crinkled furrowed face, gnarled thumb-less deformed hands crossed upon his hollow chest, tightly securing the flowing simple draping, tannish hide skin pelt.

  The bright timeless revelation of the early-morning Sun beams, flickering through the capricious thinning of the saffron-n-ocherous leaves, by and past the small island-grove of enthused murmuring trees, iridescently enlightening the sagacious composed dignity of Dacoh’s properly acknowledged patriarch and chief.

  “Dacoh’ah, I welcome your return, my favored son”, Ahcoo’ah warmly stated.

  Dacoh affectionately looked at his Ahcoo-ah, his steadfast supportive mentor, and lightly thumping his chest with his fist, he declared; “It is good to have my heart back”.

  Ahcoo’ah took a seat upon the ground and motioned Dacoh to do the same, but keeping a sure distance between them.

  “Have you heard my words?
” Ahcoo’ah inquired.

  “I have done what you have asked of me”, answered Dacoh.

  “You are a good son”, Ahcoo’ah replied.

  A sudden furious gust of disturbing wind swept and whisked the dried-out, nattering, crackly, fallen leaves; to cause some circuitous flutters askew, violently crackling feelings, swiftly swirling, then whipping and racing rowdily across the small open plot.

  “What of the vessel?” Ahcoo’ah further inquired.

  “Not filled”, Dacoh answered, looking down in mixed embarrassment.

  “Aie!??” Ahcoo’ah pressed.

  “Not taken”, Dacoh reiterated, “Not tamed”.

  “Aie!”… Ahcoo’ah agreed, “You have remembered what I told you“, “To abuse her, from unbridled lust, is at our peril”, “Disorder and hatred would be its reward”, then changing his emphasis, “Tell me of your vital quest! … my little brother”.

  Dacoh picked-up a long thin stick and crawled-in closer to Ahcoo’ah, brushed an area clean, and began to sketch the account of his wondrous journey to the strange land of the River People. He described the ominous encounter with the Rabbit People, possibly portending the quick immediate termination of his entrusted mission. Dacoh told Ahcoo’ah that he had been sorely afraid, but had drawn strength, from Ahcoo’ah’s previously repeated, only counsel and encouragement.

  His face turned ashen as he told Ahcoo’ah of his first sight of the playing field of the bloodthirsty distorted Giant Spirits of Deceit, for it flaringly brought to light the later rash blunder that he had recklessly made. Dacoh reminded Ahcoo’ah of all the essential directions and etched signposts that Ahcoo’ah had completely described to him beforehand; gratefully demonstrating to Ahcoo’ah how indispensable he had been, at Dacoh’s successful raid on the vicious contemptible people of the selfish river valley.

  Dacoh could see the pleasing radiance of satisfaction in Ahcoo’ah’s grey to blue eyes, when Dacoh excitedly portrayed his beginning passage through the narrow breach, by the great granite stone mountain; first arriving at the vast open chamber of culture, included within, the elemental deposits of huge natural fallen tablets of stone. He then eagerly illustrated some profuse examples of the etched secret language of the exalted ancients, formerly shelved on the hallowed surrounding walls. Symbols outlined before Ahcoo’ah, by his chosen and adopted son Dacoh, inscribed upon the smoothed earth-slate; a special gift of clear voices from the higher Spirits, for his good personal mortal mentor; for Ahcoo’ah’s growing pleasure.

  Ahcoo’ah was transported back to his chaotic impressionable youth, and his own wonderful but muddled wandering exploration, and hopefully proud that he had absorbed, stored and remembered, the people’s pure primary colors and their conception of light. For this perennial cause, Ahcoo’ah’s current sole imposing duty, was the continued harmonious natural life cycle of his colorfully adorned brothers and sisters. The fields of beautiful wildflowers must bloom yet again.

  Dacoh precisely etched a picture of a concentric circle in the hand-swept dirt. Pointing to this definite pictogram and stabbing his open hand into the air, he noticeably emphasized the foretold path-sign to the grand river valley. He acutely relived the narrow tense journey down the dry snaking bowels of the Spirit-stone. The long-drawn-out perplexing trek through the suspenseful restricted twisting chasm; and the breathtaking discovery of the awesome dusty filled gallery, with the inconceivable accumulated portrayals, of the ‘approachable smoke-like’ vaporous ancients. Dacoh was astounded by the magnificent primitive lore presented before him, but breaking himself free, he hesitantly slipped out through the thin fissure, onto the slated ledge; the dramatic raised stone platform, overlooking the spectacular emerald river valley.

  Dacoh excitedly expressed to Ahcoo’ah, his first impressions of what lay before him; “I was wrapped in a wonderful dream”, “ Most surely a vision of the high-flying golden eagle”, “ Do the most powerful Spirits live here?”, “ Ahcoo’ah had told Dacoh!”, “ The Land of the River People is exceedingly beautiful”.

  Ahcoo’ah musingly remembered; his misty sure eyes looking nowhere; his people had deeply sorrowed, after their forced immediate departure from the river valley, many years ago; their perpetual search for a home was worsened by the image of this most beautiful place. “We were so tiny, as the little ants”, Ahcoo’ah said; “Dahmoh’ah was a great Storyteller, he quelled our wretchedness and fervent cries”, “He seized upon a brighter latter horizon!”, “He delivered us to this precious mountain Spirits’ haven”.

  “I timidly entered the valley of the fierce and savage River People”, Dacoh continued; he explained how he coyly cloaked himself into a transformed leathern shell and thus became a shy desert tortoise, and spoke of his first skewed views of the enemy. An encounter with the fat people of this place; the sagging fleshy women and the scampering little children frolicking unconcerned on the riverbank, and his fortuitous sighting of the beautiful lithesome charming little virgin fawn, and also the unsettling rowdy interruption of the returning ferocious marauding warriors.

  Dacoh described the stealthily silent night raid he had made upon the flickering shadowy village. “I was deep in the dark dirty den of the smelly badger”; curiously assessing their habits, strength of response, and the lay of the land of the River People; at last fully realizing, he had but one option to capture his desired reward. He detailed his careful preparation to Ahcoo’ah; the total methodical exploration of the land alongside the river; Ahcoo’ah’s aforesaid required critical cunning seizure of the elusive rabbit; the secreting of the blood-filled pumpkin bowl; and his final consecrated cleansing in the Spirit’s fraternal stream, to wash away the feral stench of lingering doubt and fear, to steadily avoid an obvious skunks detection.

  Ahcoo’ah took notice that Dacoh inexplicably appeared with the pumpkin, but took no vocal heed.

  “The berating chatter of the brushwood and the darkly whispers of the nighttime surrounded me; ‘ Who’s There ’ , ‘ Who’s Where ’ ,‘ Who’s Here’ , as I paused for the first announcing sluggish rasp of dawn; to found a shrouded hiding place to pounce upon my prey”. Dacoh made plain the assigned task to his mentor Ahcoo’ah; “I stealthily crouched within a thicket, hidden behind a small copse of bushes, beside a huge overhanging oak tree, alongside the rising well-worn delivering pathway, far from the stinking River Peoples busy packed warrens”. “To transform myself into a cunning cold narrow-eyed rattle-snake, tightly coiled and ready to strike”. “Silent…ly laying and squinting in wait; waiting patiently; desirous darting forked tongue sensibly searching the airs; waiting ever so patiently, for the little innocent tawny mouse; to unwittingly present herself, to the decisive bite of my suddenly…… swift…… flashing fangs”. “At long last, my delicate graceful unopened blossom was sharply stung with sighted eye; proudly sauntering up the rutted stepped furrow, closely watched-over by her tromping, stout and heavy-footed, puffing guardian”. “My imbedded fate was within my grasp; finding them under the disinterested hovering branches of that large near leafless tree, I rushed forward, and fiercely smashed a cruel rock into the pardonable skull of the fawns doting shield”. “Quickly slamming the startled young woman to the ground, not wanting to damage my tender treasure, I considerately wrested and bound her hands behind, rolled and encased her in the deerskin pod, heaved the gasping slender bundle over my shoulder, and raced towards the dividing temporary safety of the cold varying river”.

  Dacoh’s enthusiastic animated telling of his narrative, eagerly drawn upon the very ground before his mentor; a captivating simple tale with limited vocabulary, strong spirited hands gesture to the air, jabbing and sweeping arms emphasizing the lively positive energetic influence of the moment; filled the smiling gentle Ahcoo’ah, with a sweet sense of longing melancholy, an aching youthful remembrance, for this proud glazy-eyed weathered old man; being reminded of the quickly heated passions for boundless adventure and possibility, that fleetingly went before.

  Changeable
leaves from lightened green to golden and yellow, falling variations of reddish-brown to brassy-rust and translucent orange-amber, reversely blowan by the altering winds of quick chance; temperate subtle breezes or the primal swift winds of chaos; the doubts of low whispers, or the loud snippy vulgar voices, of the contrary Spirits of Confusion ?

  “I quickly hurtled down the noisily announcing, clicking and a clattering, unstable graveled hill-path, with the captured vessel closely embraced”, Dacoh continued excitedly, “provoking sudden alarm in the sagging stunned women and little children of my offensive enemy”. “Startled eyes met my hurried escape, shrieks of abuse and pelted rocks fell against my backside”. “The crossing of the inconstant dividing river, relieved the beginning pursuit”. “Glancing in return, I saw the hopefully foreseen madness, an agitated uproar, of scrambling indignant and powerless field mice, as found within the picked-clean golden harvest chaff ”.

  “Staging an artful ploy, madly buzzing into the thick waxen brush and dimness of the trees, we darted to and fro, to and fro, misleading my able foe to the direction of my flight; boasts of yelping and yelling in a variable raucous din, bid trickily, to deceive my arisen enemy to my striped colors or my numbers”. “Skillfully, lightly, pattering along the slanting slated hillside, brushwood hidden from my enemies view; careful in each weighted oppressive step, to leave no hint of my ghostly gliding passage. Like the loud winds, the threats of rage, pushing me well-beyond; in breathless false anticipation, I reached where I had stashed my trusty weapons”. “Comprehending the critical burden that I had willingly accepted, and hesitantly conceding the futility of being armed, against this bloodthirsty horde of nasty one-eyed pursuers; I reluctantly left my reliable gifted bow and my strait thrusting spear in the beautiful river valley”. “Scratching and climbing up the steep precipitous dust-slippery hill-path, unsure muffled wrathful howls in the unknown distance, conjured snarls and gnashing teeth nipping at my heels; I arrived on the waiting ledge, the welcome stone threshold away from my deadly peril”. “As you had instructed me, I carefully displayed the array of stolen goods and the cardinal symbol of our intentions, the flaunted and discarded only property and the crimson mark of blood for all to witness; demonstrating that we were not taking anything of real value from the River People”. “I slipped through the thin fracture with my worthless container and ran from the river valley; the ferocious growling wolves of chase, closing in on me, and my treasured pet”.