Spirits of the Wildflowers

by Parris Match

  Ahcoo’ah soothed the innocent duplicity of Dacoh, by saying; “You are a good son, Dacoh; you heard my words, again”.

  Dacoh easily acknowledged Ahcoo’ah with a modest grin and a slight nod of his head and continued to recite his tale; “I charged through the winding seemingly collapsing chasm, no ready hole for my quick escape, nowhere to hide my frightened face. Tired, weary, worn-out limbs, and bruised and battered bones; the heated breath of snarling, snapping, slavering, beasts, horrifically pushed me on. Accelerated anxious hard footfalls heard stomping, up the rising rift; agony in each and every harsh step, without a solitary rest. A muted sound of moaning, a curdling wail of grief to anger, echoed through the closed and dark abyss. A sudden sting, then shivers of dread, erupted forth upon my lower backside, to assault my inner core; offended vicious gnashing wolves would most certainly seek their final vengeance”.

  “We stopped at the tepid Spirits’ bubbling spring to reclaim my depleted strength, and then quickly moved on”; Dacoh continued, “Fluttering reckless lunatic Spirits afore the bright moons almost un-reflected pitch, tormented our bent passage, mournful beseeching complaints, sweated from the crushing walls of stone, and furiously chased the skittering drowsy timid quailen, through the oppressive blackened night. Morning light brought a fragmented dust-hazy stillness, engraved towers of sandstone sentinels watched my every step, while the muffled baying of the pursuant wolf pack were now cunningly silent; rest not, I must not falter, I must push-on, for the hungry ruthless wolves of destruction, will surely come”.

  “Welcomed by the weeping wall, myself and the captured maid, halted briefly to replenish our withered remains; cool, life-giving, soothing water roused the battered will; I must flee from these other howling walls of my entrapment, the stalking wolves will surely catch me, and tear me, by limbs to shreds. We rushed through the last declining steps of the canyon staircase, finally breaking free from our layered sandstone narrow rift, to escape from the great stone-mountain maze; gladly looking over the sweeping bare vista, to see beyond the far-reaching emptiness, to willingly include the determined flat playing field, of the bored rigid sleeping giants”.

  More foolish with the searing adamant heat, Dacoh spit in the eye of the stiff-necked and malicious, evil Spirits of Arrogance; he did not heed Ahcoo’ah’s well-chosen words; Dacoh nearly provoked the bitter wrath of the baseless and stratified ancient wicked Spirits. “ I saw the petrified eyeless roundish head-balls of their pitiful victims, scattered across the very vast restricted arena of the greedy and decadent addicted squanderers”; “ The occasionally lingering, transparent moon’s, sheer madness came upon me”, “Horror….., Revulsion….., Terror……, almost burst my heart”.

  Run…, Run…, Run… Run…, Run…, Run…

  “My terrified heaving useless body and the sagging dormant sack, fell on sheltered ground; that sympathetically placed line of whitewashed rock, to curb the corrupted giants sliding advance.” “Safe… … …, by the strict margin of capable limitations, from the despicable bloodthirsty craving, of the gruesome vengeful Spirits, or the hungry heinous wolves in chase.” “Finding the previously water supplied nook of my devise, with neither possessive adversary in pursuit, we collapsed in troubled sleep”.

  Ahcoo’ah listened intently to his high-spirited, greatly favored bright beginner, to tell the personal story of his selected mission; he had rightly chosen the innately clever Dacoh, to fulfill the peoples lasting bloom.

  Dacoh continued; “A sinister apparent-misty cloud of dread, swirled round-about my kindly hollow, and besieged me from my fitful slumber”; then, “limited light of day allowed, we must lie above and beside the land of the doltish Spirit-less Rabbit People, to pass the dark of a starless night”.

  “Before the full glimpse of the dawn, silvery wraithlike greyish clouds, with higher layered shadows still observed; Dacoh with my bundled maiden, staunchly raced across the brink of the emptiness, barren rolling wasteland of the scrawny desiccated Rabbit People. Forever watchful, alert to the rabble masses of these lesser skittering foe; not a lone furtive sighting, hindered the lengthened relentless journey to my source. Splendid sunlit crested mountains, intoned a chorus of my name, beckoning desired homeland within my slightly closing reach. The supple heartening untouched neutral bounds of the sand dunes, expectantly free from all possible menace; at last a brief soft sanctuary, for our weary anxious drooping heads”.

  “Lastly passing within the indefinite final curtain, fluttering vigilance of the warning symbols welcoming bid; with hostile alien emptiness to our back, we entered the warming hospitality of the Forgotten Ones. Dacoh’s hurried heart racing before him, and soars above the beautiful, vibrant, rainbow-hued, valley of his waving cordial smiling people; he longed to sit before the tender care, the knowing clasp of injured hands, of his highly-respected teacher and sage, Ahcoo’ah”.

  Ahcoo’ah and Dacoh sat in mutual friendly consideration, not saying a word; gently falling and drifting leaves, impishly swirled, playfully tumbled and chattered incessantly, as they whooshed across the spatial hollows ground.

  “Ahcoo’ah and his other brothers pay tribute to Dacoh’ah”; Ahcoo’ah simply said.

  Dacoh modestly bowed his head as his mentor Ahcoo’ah confirmed the peoples champion; Ahcoo’ah’s chosen shield and seed bearer.

  Presently, Ahcoo’ah arose, saying; “Dacoh must see to his duty!”, and adding, “The people have been told to bow to your seclusion”, “Tend to your perfectly beautiful little flower”; turning, Ahcoo’ah walked back towards the village.

  Dacoh knew he could not gather with the people of the village until he had tamed the little fawn; he entered the isolated wickerup to complete this able task.

  The diffused light within the lodge limited Dacoh’s view of the delicate fawn, although he could clearly breathe in her presence; he could affectingly feel her ripe essence, deep set, in the gruff of his throat. As he edged closer to his captive, Dacoh saw her open focused dark-eyes staring at his approach, her face showing no emotion; even in the dusky light he discerned the mien of guarded black fear, or was it seething black anger, directed back at him.

  Tah had lain awake for some time; summoning low voices, through the murky void of the wickerup-cave, had nudged her from deep slumber; a calming cadent near verse, from without the cell, soothed her wavering spirit. She could not understand the words, but the reassuring rhythm of the mystical speaker comforted the bewildered, easily susceptible, prisoner and hostage. Tah remained in a mute forsaken limbo, unshed tears of complete desolation; empty and forlorn, absent of any hope; but the little purplish maiden could not cry out, for who would listen.

  Dacoh took a wetted piece of spongy inner deerskin, uncovered the torso of the excitable quivering fawn, gently detained her hands, and began again to bathe her face, pet-wash her arms and shapely contours of her body; he would have to be very careful not to violate her personal dignity; Dacoh, most certainly, must gain her trust.

  A tempestuous bluffing gust of wind, abruptly slapped-back the shuttered matting from the wickerups portal, the meddlesome ogling surge of light broke his intimate stroke; Dacoh swiftly covered the fawn and sat to return on his haunches. He was her constant wholehearted husbandman and protector; at the first open blush of her awakening, or through the last closing petals of her sleep, he would remain by her side.

  The least bit of nourishment, that last drop of water, a sheltered place to lay her head, or modest covering for her body, must come from his willing gracious hand.

  Scattered silver highlights gleaming, fluffy to gossamer nacreous clouds, lazily drifts beyond the darkened pall of the reddish-purple cliffs, amid the resplendent golden-pinkish passing delight, grace touching the jagged sudden rim of the closing canyon valley. The ensuing whitest flock of the winged Spirits flew to the radiant waning Sun, into the mysterious hazy land of the departed, those smoke-faded vaporous ancients, smaller than the smallest particle. The long glowing lustrous magnificent escarpment, ba
rrier against not quite all intrusion, faithful near impassable point of view to the shadowed green, emerald to darkening jade, centric natural ribbon, of the hidden abundant beautiful valley.

  Dacoh fed and watered his aloof willful pet, tending his charge until the last twilights ending peace; then to lay, close beside, her soft furry shelter, his vigilant hand, gently touching her protective covering, he slept in firm satisfied confidence, pending the new promise of dawn.

  The next morning his three steadfast brothers dependably conveyed the sanctuaries provisions; their roguish brief crowing raillery, a welcome pleasing jovial interval. Dacoh, smiling, let pass their swaggering manly stance; raucous laughter at Oocaie’s good natured jousting, rejuvenated Dacoh’s shy flagging boldness. With wild suggestive prancing, and loud and strident bellowing, Oocaie with vulgar spurring of mimical sexual excitement imitated a shuddering frothy rutting stag. Oocaie amused the brother’s coarse fraternity, fortunately in the absence of the noble Ahcoo’ah.

  “Aie, my brothers”, Dacoh graciously concluded, “Before you go, Hear Me!”; Dacoh asked the brothers to hurry back to the village and put the people on notice, that he and his naked fawn would pass the village on their way to the isolated waterfall and bathing pool; near at the midpoint of day, exposed to the full face of the Sun. A time for cleansing and confirmation, for washing away any contamination and disorder, any influence of outside incursion; and to inform his endearing mother, Malee, to observe and appraise his captured fawn, for his precious pet would need an unsullied garment, and intertwined straw sandals for her feet.

  “What you ask, will be”, Eeboh assured Dacoh.

  “Is there more we can do for you”, inquired Hoocoh.

  “No! My brothers” Dacoh answered.

  The encouraging brothers went away from the radiant yellow and amber bower of the domed garden glen and Dacoh stayed to carefully cultivate Ahcoo’ah’s and nature’s decree.

  Later in the morning, preparing the forsaken less covered little fawn for her journey to the purifying shower, of and from the Spirits of the waterfall; Dacoh took a single flimsy strand of leather, tied an adjustable loop in this instructive leash, placed it loosely around the captives wrist, leaving the lead drooping in imaginary restraint; lightly indicating his command, Dacoh led his complying shuffling pet on this appropriate training stroll. Kindly guiding his barefooted charge along the dried reed-covered shore of the valleys tranquil pond, situated below the sloped fallow rutted fields of expectation. Then crossing the smoothed stones of the cheery babbling brook, tumbling down the hill from the unseen village, they skirted the additional fields of dried yellowy maize stubble. Recurrent discreet curious peeking eyes, peered from behind the clustered bushy thickets, intently following and feeling their every stepping stone in their awkward pathway. Perched on a rock-slated knoll, aside above the rocky footpath where Dacoh and his pet must pass, stood the grim and grave Malee, ministering to her son’s humble request. Nearing and coming abreast of his mother’s brief appraisal, Dacoh and the young girl stopped in place, for Malee’s serious close-lipped consideration.

  Tah covertly studied the older woman, standing above and apart; her poised impassive face, weather-beaten and sullen, expressionless grey eyes looked down over Tah; the elder woman displayed an unyielding unemotional presence, she reminded Tah of her capable custodian, the dowdy attendant, Kala. Tah hungered for this arcane woman’s common sympathetic comfort, but saw no sign of a concerned response.

  Dacoh turned to his pelt-cloaked pet, with a quick single motion of his hand; he stripped away her only defensive cover, baring the small naked humiliated fawn, left abandoned to the open span of the seemingly aimless pathway. A flush of shame withdrew the shriveled sunken drooping floret. The full light of day bore witness to her pitiful helpless state; while the high-spirited proud Dacoh, with an open hand, presented his chosen flower.

  Tradition, demanded that Malee embrace and look after her designated replacement; soon the withered old woman would be unceremoniously discarded, and her reliable dependence would be decided on the changing circumstantial winds of secondary affection. If the son and seed could not provide, she must readily sleep forever with the Spirits.

  Finishing her measured guess, Malee turned and walked away.

  Compassionately relinquishing, the proffered inadequate deerskin wrap, to the shied and shuttered fawn, nevertheless making her reach across the final assent. Dacoh and Tah continued along the beaten path to the rock-enclosed open-gated fountain in the highest Spirit’s grove; just proclaimed temporarily exclusive, customary hallowed bathing pool. The tonally melodious deflected sound of splashing water, breezily passed through the ash-grey spotted ordinary trees, of the small thickened nemoral woodland; by the standing thin fluted stalks, tucked in the sheer cliffs glad indent; soon to reveal the cool inviting lush haven, almost secluded within its Sunlit sparkling confinement. Dacoh secured the fawns leash upon a bending twig, stripped away his only least garment, kicked off his moccasins, waded into the bled depleted pond, and firmly stood under the cold spattering, lightly cascading, cleansing influence of the Spirits, pure waters fall. Dacoh must bathe firstly, strict tradition prevailed in the limited valley; it was forbidden for a potent brother, to avail himself of water, in any secondary way, downstream from a woman.

  The tinkling peaceful burbling song of the delicate splattering virtuous waterfalls, accompany the capricious fanciful ballet of the flickering silver-butterflies; forefront of an occasional mist-held rainbow sunbeam spectra. Also those tiny merry giggling children of the sunlight, playing quick hide-and-seek, within the wondrous whimsical billowing of the fresh cool mist, in this brilliant geodic emerald-green glade. An inner high-pitched aria of tingling vibrant sirens, slowly stirred the withdrawn and disheartened fawn, in this veiled intimate bathing retreat; a sparkling and airy, so beautiful, comforting sanctuary for two lingering warblers.

  Furtive hinder glances towards her most handsome captor, with strong broad shoulders, proud tinted chest, and narrow waist, accentuated by a loosely gathered long mane of thick black hair, draped down his glistening muscular back. To see silver rivulets of the legacy of water, flowing and trickling, down his well-developed powerfully built darkbronzed body, and over his tight solid bulbous butt, then sinuously descending down his sturdy and firmly planted, thickset legs.

  The mountain Spirits’ moderately chilled plummeting stream, free falls into the purification font, to rid Dacoh of the stain and stink of what had passed before. The present fault of fear and doubt was completely washed away, to descend and vanish within the homelands nurturing earth. Dacoh’s and the People’s vital regeneration in the beautiful close sheltered valley would begin, once again.

  It was time for the young maiden to purge her customary way of life; familial affinity, learned tradition, and native land would be banished forever to an unspoken memory. Dacoh guided the stripped withdrawn fawn beneath the cold flowing pure current; gently but firmly, he held her in place. The chilled clear water, exclusive essence of the mountain Spirits, emanating from the cliffs chiseled recesses, poured forth over the uninitiated young woman; with eager shuddering invigoration, ending with a trembling sigh, the water sluiced and washed away, the beautiful maidens contrary pathway. The lithe fawn was left to complete her cleansing duty.

  Dacoh from his point of vantage, smiling in sweet satisfaction, looked admiringly at his little graceful fawn, and fondly remembered his first thunderstruck impassioned vision of this fortuitous water nymph. The throaty haunting natural scent, the budding nectar perfume, of the blood-red flower, contained in the innermost pith of his soul, roughly etched on Dacoh’s aching heart; would remain with him in all tomorrows, to pleasingly recall, up to the last moment before his death.

  The wavering whimsical inspirited flight of aroused winged fanciful reflections, silent fluttering silver-white visual symphonies; but for the accentual tinkling of the water-bells; and the restrained background hymns from the denuding wooden-t
one flutes, by the gentle to modulate breezes. Enlivened flickering evidence of the bestirred Sun lighted Spirits, restrictively held within this heavenly grotto and geode, at random proposed upon the cliffs rivulet creased facade. Calming clarified unpolluted water was their geological conclusion, casually fading imaginary good apparitions to be absorbed, to return back into their mauve-stone mountain abode.

  Dacoh and the fawn returned to the aberrant isolated little wickerup, deliberately set apart for their intended union, to breed the continued kin and existence of the unadulterated blood and the indomitable pulsating core of The Forgotten Ones.

  Three like repetitive days passed; Dacoh was the fawn’s only link to the valleys sustaining pasture, nothing inside or outside of the wickerup existed without Dacoh’s touch. The food she ate came from his hand, the water she drank he provided, safe passage was his temperate lead, warmth was his tender gift, and her privacy was his decision. From the opening blink of the Sunrise to closing flash of the Sunset, Dacoh was the pet’s sole provider and gentle master.

  The exposing resplendent Sun just broke over the jagged escarpment; cawing, cawing, cawing; mock ravens announced the arrival of the brothers.

  “Is it a fallow day in the beautiful warm moist valley?” Oocaie teasingly inquired of his younger brother.

  “Aie”, Dacoh shyly responded.

  Eeboh and Oocaie placed the fresh provisions upon the ground and stepped back; Hoocoh laid a folded package next and joined his brothers in their gathered lingering retreat.