The Ghost of Blackfeet Nation

by Eva Pohler

  “Wow,” Ellen said.

  “Jews, Christians, and Muslims go to a building to worship,” Terry Murray said. “But we go here. Badger-Two Medicine is our place of worship.”

  “And it’s not just for Sundays,” Jack added.

  On the other side of the river, the mountains stood in the distance, their white peaks reaching toward a deep blue sky.

  “Since there aren’t many trees below, should we gather our branches before we go down?” Ellen asked.

  “There are a few trees closer to the river,” Jack said. “It might be easier on you not to have to carry them so far.”

  “That sounds good to me,” Sue said.

  “But if you feel called to a particular branch,” the chief said, “then, by all means, speak up.”

  The grassy slope down toward the river was steep. Ellen kept an eye on Sue as they descended.

  “You see those mountains over there?” Eric Old Person asked after a while.

  “They’re gorgeous,” Tanya said.

  “If it weren’t for them, our people might have been forced all the way into the Pacific Ocean by the early Americans,” he said. “For this reason, we consider the Badger-Two Medicine our last refuge.”

  “That’s why it’s so important to us that all drilling be outlawed here,” Terry Murray added.

  “You wouldn’t put an oil rig in the Sistine Chapel, would you?” Jack asked.

  “I suppose not,” Sue agreed.

  “This is our Sistine Chapel,” Jack said.

  Tanya pointed to a gravelly cliff edge. “Should I grab these stones?”

  “Those will do just fine,” the chief said. “If you feel called to them.”

  “I actually do,” Tanya said with a tinge of excitement in her voice.

  Ellen and her friends each took handfuls of golf-ball-sized rocks and put them into their bundles before continuing down the slope toward the river.

  “We want to be as close to the river as possible,” Terry Murray said as he followed his chief.

  “That makes sense,” Sue said. “I suppose it would be convenient, in case the sweat lodge dehydrates you.”

  “We do it because the Creator said to do it,” the chief said.

  They gathered the stones, the sage, and the branches over the course of an hour. Eric Old Person started a campfire with logs that Terry Murray had gathered while Jack Stone and Terry bent the branches and helped Ellen and her friends to tie up the frame with the lengths of rope. Ellen was hot, sweaty, and exhausted, and her friends looked the same. She wished she had water but had been told it would break the required fast.

  “It’s not very tall, is it,” Sue said of the frame, which stood about four feet high and ten feet in diameter when it was finished.

  “Do you notice anything about its shape?” the chief asked.

  “It reminds me of an Igloo,” Tanya said.

  “It’s meant to be a womb,” Jack said.

  “When you enter from the east,” the chief explained, “you are entering the womb of Mother Earth.”

  “And when you leave, once it’s over,” Terry Murray added, “you are reborn.”

  Chapter Four: The Sweat Lodge

  Eric Old Person asked Ellen and her friends to add the stones they’d collected to the fire he’d built next to the sweat lodge frame. Then he told them to sprinkle the sage leaves onto the ground beneath the frame. Once they’d finished these tasks, Jack Stone and Terry Murray covered the frame with the skins and blankets—except one blanket, which Jack spread onto the ground outside of the sweat lodge.

  “Before we go inside,” the chief said, “should you need to break your fast by drinking water, drink this.” He held up his canteen. “It’s medicine water. We make it with herbs to help purify your system.”

  Ellen licked her parched lips. “May I have some now?”

  “I need some, too,” Tanya said.

  As the chief passed around the canteens, he said, “If at any time you get too hot in there, feel free to come outside and sit or lie down on this blanket. Then you can rejoin us when you’re ready.”

  “You’re making me nervous,” Ellen said, trying to sound light-hearted.

  “This isn’t easy,” Jack warned. “It’s hard even for the most seasoned tribal member.”

  “Well, that didn’t help,” Sue said in her teasing way to Jack.

  The chief was the first to climb into the sweat lodge carrying his ceremonial pipe and a canteen. He sat on the opposite end of the opening. Ellen followed and sat to the chief’s right. It was dark inside, except for the light coming from the small opening, through which the others were still entering. Ellen sat cross-legged as Jack Stone moved between her and Tanya. Tanya sat between Jack and Terry Murray, by the opening. Sue sat between Terry and the chief. Together they formed a tight circle with their knees touching.

  A hole had been dug in the center of their circle and offerings of sage, tobacco, and other herbs had been placed into it.

  When Terry Murray closed the flap over the entryway, they were in complete darkness. Ellen couldn’t see a thing. Even after her eyes had adjusted to the darkness, she could see nothing beyond her own hand, which she held in front of her face.

  Ellen suddenly realized the folly of her and her friends. They were in the wilderness with three men they had just met. What a perfect place for a horrendous crime. She shuddered and closed her eyes.

  “Before we begin the sweat rounds,” the chief said, “we wish to thank the Creator for his wisdom and gifts.”

  The chief continued to speak in his native tongue before saying, “Now, we will each say a prayer to the Creator. We also call him Sun, or Napi, or Old Man. They are one and the same. Ask a question or make a request before you draw on the pipe. He may answer you through the smoke. Or he may speak to you through the songs of the wind through the grass or the birds in the nearby trees above us. Listen for the Creator’s answer. You may hear it in the song we chant.”

  The chief led the two other men in a guttural song that sounded like crows. The crowing lasted four beats and was followed by another four beats that sounded like the soft cry of wolves. Then the chant repeated.

  “Join in, if you can,” Jack said in his baritone voice.

  Ellen tried. She sang softly so as not to stand out from the other voices: “Ah, yah, yah, yah, awooh, awooh, awooh, awooh, ah, yah, yah, yah, awooh, awooh, awooh, awooh.”

  Over the chanting, the chief spoke, “My personal prayer to our Creator is this: Will you help these women to settle the evil spirit residing at Talks to Buffalo Lodge? Will you help your people to use the estate in a way that will enrich the future of the tribe?”

  Ellen could hear the chief suck air through the end of the pipe. Then she felt the smoke he exhaled fill the tent around her as the chief joined back in with the chant: “Ah, yah, yah, yah, awooh, awooh, awooh, awooh, ah, yah, yah, yah, awooh, awooh, awooh, awooh.”

  Then Sue’s voice carried through the darkness. “Please help me to become a worthy steward of Talks to Buffalo Lodge.”

  After a few seconds, Sue coughed and said, “Excuse me,” before continuing the chant, “Ah, yah, yah, yah, awooh, awooh, awooh, awooh, ah, yah, yah, yah, awooh, awooh, awooh, awooh.”

  Terry Murray then prayed for strength followed by Tanya’s prayer for world peace.

  A moment later, Jack said, “Creator and Mother Earth, please have pity on me and my family. I pray especially for my granddaughter, who, as you know, is still sick. Please help her to fight the cancer growing inside her, so she can live a long and blessed life.”

  Ellen wondered about the granddaughter and was sorry that she had cancer. Thoughts for her own prayers suddenly left her mind as she worried over his. Then she was brought from those thoughts as the pipe was thrust into her hands.

  “Creator and Mother Earth,” Ellen began, not sure what would follow. “I ask you to please watch over all of us and our loved ones. Please give us the peace we need to endure the trials of
life.”

  She put the pipe to her lips and drew in the smoke. She avoided breathing it in too deeply, so as not to break out into a coughing fit. The smoke tasted something like the weed she occasionally smoked in college. She wondered if the pipe contained more than tobacco. Would they get high together? She fought the giggles again as she passed the pipe to Eric Old Person.

  After they had each had a turn at the pipe, Terry Murray opened the flap, and Ellen was nearly blinded by the flood of sunlight. Once her eyes had adjusted, she saw he was using the forked stick to lift a few of the coals from the campfire outside into the center of the lodge. Then he closed the flap, and they were once again enveloped by darkness. But this time, they were also surrounded by a stifling heat.

  Ellen heard a sizzling sound—from water being added to the coals—and the tent filled with steam. The sweet smell of sage, combined with the slight buzz from the pipe, caused Ellen to breathe in slowly and deeply. Her shoulders dropped as some of the tension left her body.

  “We will have another round of prayer,” the chief said. “This time, you should think of a story that has left you feeling empty or wounded. This prayer will be for healing.”

  The chief spoke of the death of his wife two years ago, a death he still grieved. He pleaded with the Creator to fill the emptiness left behind by his wife. Ellen was surprised that the chief openly wept.

  Sue spoke of her mother. Through tears, Sue talked about the way she and her mother had been more like best friends throughout Sue’s life. She asked the Creator to take away the longing she felt for her mother’s company.

  Terry Murray asked the Creator to help him with his alcohol addiction so that he could be a better father to his sons. Then Tanya asked for help letting go of Tina and Johnny, the children whom she’d fostered over the past year.

  Jack spoke again of his granddaughter and of the leukemia that threatened her life. He focused more on the pain it caused his daughter and wife and how hard it was for him to witness it. He echoed Ellen’s prayer for peace.

  Ellen found it hard to open up about her own pain. She didn’t know how she felt about her breakup with Brian. She didn’t know if it was really over between them, or if they would find their way back to each other. She didn’t know what she wanted from a lover—or if she wanted one at all. She still desperately missed Paul. She felt alone and forgotten and somehow loose with nothing holding her down. This wasn’t a feeling of easy liberty but of terror and anxiety.

  Finally, she said, “I pray for healing after the loss of my husband.” Then, without elaborating, she took another draw from the pipe and rejoined the song.

  A warm buzz lifted her. She felt as if her soul were flying to the ceiling of the lodge.

  Ellen was again blinded when Terry Murray opened the flap, without interrupting their song, to add more coals to those already resting on the sage and other herbs in the center of their circle. He dropped the flap as medicine water sizzled against the stones and more steam filled the lodge.

  The heat was thick, and Ellen was soon drenched with sweat.

  “Ah, yah, yah, yah, awooh, awooh, awooh, awooh, ah, yah, yah, yah, awooh, awooh, awooh, awooh.”

  “Now we will ask the Creator to expunge us of all negativity, to purify our bodies and our souls,” the chief said over the continuous chanting. “We pray for the strength to overcome greed, envy, lust, and laziness. We pray for the will to shun all evil. I personally ask the Creator to help me overcome my selfish desire for solitude, so that I may continue to lead the tribe.”

  Ellen chanted with the others as the chief drew from the pipe and then filled the lodge with his smoke.

  “Help me to better control my eating,” Sue said. “So that I may live a healthier, longer life.”

  “Give me the strength to stop drinking,” Terry Murray said, when it was his turn.

  “Show me how to take better care of the environment,” Tanya prayed. “Help me to recycle, to use sustainable resources, and to not waste. Help me with my garden.”

  “Help me to curb my spending,” Jack prayed. “Let me be content with what I have.”

  When the pipe was passed to Ellen, she struggled with what to say. She had so many shortcomings. Which were worth mentioning? She ran them over in her head, but the smell of the sage and the smoke made her dizzy, and before she knew what she was doing, she was muttering, “Help me to stop feeling sorry for myself. Help me to be a better mother and friend. Help me to stop focusing on my own pain and loneliness so that I can be an instrument of peace for others.”

  Ellen was soon sobbing. She was crying so hard and her lips were quivering so badly, that it was difficult for her to draw smoke from the pipe. She managed to take a little of the smoke in before she passed the pipe to Eric Old Person.

  The flap opened, and Terry Murray added more coals. The chief poured more water onto them as the flap closed and darkness and thick steam covered her.

  “You can go outside at any time, if needed,” the chief reminded her. “Are you okay?”

  Ellen lost control as her sobs overwhelmed her.

  “Ellen?” Tanya asked through the darkness and over the chanting, which hadn’t ceased.

  “I’m…oh…kay,” Ellen said through her sobs. “Or…I…will…be.”

  She wiped her eyes. Water seemed to be seeping from her eyelids—from every pour in her skin. She felt faint and exhausted but also relaxed and high. She was soaring. Soaring with the crows.

  “Ah, yah, yah, yah, awooh, awooh, awooh, awooh, ah, yah, yah, yah, awooh, awooh, awooh, awooh.”

  They chanted for many minutes. The passage of time was hard to measure for Ellen. There were times when she felt as if she had left the lodge and was walking around in the wilderness beneath the summer sun, or standing before Weeping Wall full of tears, but then she’d feel Jack Stone’s knee pressing against hers, and she’d return to her body and to the chanting.

  She wasn’t sure how long they’d been chanting when the chief said, “We pray for purity and cleansing. We ask to be made worthy to commune with spirits.”

  Terry Murray began to speak in his native tongue.

  When he’d finished, the chief translated: “He said that great evil is made by great pain. Very grave pain controls Crow Woman. Creator has revealed that she is the evil one who dwells at Talks to Buffalo Lodge.”

  Ellen opened her eyes wide and tried to see her friends’ faces in the darkness, but it was impossible.

  “Oh, spirits of the other realm,” Sue began over the chanting voices.

  “Not of the other realm,” the chief interrupted. “The spirits share our realm. They are here in the animals and the trees, in the grass and in the wind.”

  “Pardon me,” Sue said. “Oh, spirits. Please help us to bring peace to Crow Woman. Please guide us as we attempt to make contact with her over the next few days.”

  Ellen flinched when Terry Murray began to shout belligerently in his native tongue. He shouted the same string of syllables over and over.

  “What is he saying?” Ellen asked the chief in the darkness.

  “He says, ‘Crow woman is not alone.’”

  Chapter Five: Talks to Buffalo Lodge

  “Are you sure you want to do that?” Sue asked Tanya over breakfast in the lodge the next morning. “Rent a car and drive around the park, all by yourself?”

  “It seems unlike you,” Ellen added. “We know how much you hate driving.”

  Tanya took a sip of her hot tea. “I’d rather take my chances on the road than at Talks to Buffalo Lodge. I can’t believe you’re still going.”

  “Can’t you take a taxi?” Sue asked.

  “You know I don’t like to talk to strangers,” she said.

  Ellen swallowed down another bite of her pancake. “So, on Tanya’s list of fears, talking to strangers trumps driving. Good to know.”

  Sue chuckled. “Yes. If we are ever in a fix and need her to drive, we can threaten to invite someone she doesn’t know.”

&n
bsp; “It’ll be fun,” Tanya insisted, ignoring their jokes. “I want to check out more of the hiking trails and the shops. I think I might buy something for Dave and the kids. And there are lots more restaurants to sample. Are you guys sure I can’t tempt you to join me?”

  “You know me,” Sue said. “I want what I want. Besides, my curiosity has always been greater than my fear.”

  “Which is why we always get into so much trouble,” Ellen said with a smile.

  Tanya shrugged. “Fine. Have it your way. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

  “We could never say that,” Sue said before bursting into laughter.

  An hour later, Ellen and Sue took the hotel shuttle back to the tribal headquarters on the Blackfeet Reservation, where they were met outside by a petite woman with dark, shoulder-length hair.

  Sue asked, “Are you the tribal secretary?”

  The woman smiled. “I wear a lot of hats around here. Tribal secretary is one.”

  “Oh?” Ellen asked. “What other hats do you wear?”

  “I’m also the provost of our community college and the public relations representative for the tribe,” the woman said.

  “You sound like a busy woman,” Ellen said.

  “It’s nice to meet you,” Sue offered the woman her hand. “I’m Sue Graham, and this is Ellen Mohr.”

  “Karen Murray,” the woman said as she shook each of their hands.

  “Are you related to Terry Murray?” Ellen asked.

  “He’s my husband.”

  “Did he tell you about what happened yesterday?” Sue asked.

  Karen led them to a black Honda Accord parked in front of the building. “I know about the purification ceremony, if that’s what you mean.”

  “It seems the spirits channeled him to communicate with us,” Ellen explained as she climbed into the passenger’s seat, while Sue took the backseat.

  Karen turned the key in the ignition. “Yes. He told me. But he has no memory of it—only what the chief relayed to him afterward.”