Cinksi found it hard to continue focusing on her desire for a vision. Especially at first, when her every thought was on food and warmth. When she wasn't asleep, she was thinking of a vision, searching the area around her for a sign from the spirits. And none was forthcoming.
The girl was feeling a little dizzy from the lack of food and water. If she did not receive a vision soon, she would have to make the choice of dying here or giving up. It wasn't unusual for someone to return to camp after a vision quest without finding what they sought. But, Cinksi just couldn't believe that wakan tanka would set her on this path as a newborn and not speak to her.
Cinksi was currently facing the east. As the sun rose before her, it happened.
The Sun seemed to flare into a brilliant white light. The girl had to squint to peer at it, one hand raised to shade her eyes. As the light faded, she could see a cloud of dust rising and feel the ground beneath her shake at the stampeding of a thousand buffalo. They were running towards her position, led by the most sacred animal of all, the white buffalo.
Watching in dazed awe, Cinksi saw a warrior woman swoop in from the south, screaming her cry as she attacked the white buffalo with a spear. The warrior's hit was solid and the white buffalo was mortally wounded.
It seemed that the remainder of the herd simply disappeared, as did the warrior woman. The white buffalo staggered closer to Cinksi, blood pouring from its side and its nostrils flaring wide as it panted for breath. It fell just outside the cleared area and looked so real that the girl could almost touch it. The Sun flared again, and she lost the image, covering her eyes with her arm. The light faded and she looked again, only to find the white buffalo gone.
In its place was a strange woman with pale skin. Her hair was long, longer than Cinksi's, and a yellow the color of the Sun itself. Her eyes were the blue of a deep lake, still and clear. She was wearing the standard dress that all of Cinksi's women wore, buckskin and moccasins, her hair flowing freely in the breeze.
This strange apparition rose from where the white buffalo had been, blood pouring from her side where the white buffalo had been wounded. She walked gently closer to the girl staring at her in wonder. And then the woman put a hand to her wound, bloodying her fingers. She reached forward and brushed the blood onto Cinksi's face, two thunderbolts beneath the dark eyes. As the Sun flared again, the girl could see those brilliant blue eyes staring at her intently and hear the words whispered into her ear.
"Mahasanni ki
."
And then the light returned to normal. Cinksi looked frantically around for the woman or the white buffalo and found nothing. With shaky fingers, she touched her face. Again there was nothing.
Trembling, the girl gathered her pouch and robe. She needed to return to the camp, to ask the shaman to help her interpret her vision.
Cinksi sat anxiously as she awaited the verdict of those wiser than herself. Around the fire were her father, the shaman, and the medicine man. They had heard her tale and were now smoking in silence as they considered it.
It felt odd, but the girl accepted the pipe that was handed to her and she smoked with the rest, finally an adult member of the society that she'd been on the outskirts of during her childhood. It warmed her, as did the look of pride she could see from her father.
"It is a complicated vision, Cinksi," Inyan Ceye commented once the smoking was done and the ashes given to the spirits. "I do not presume to know what the spirits wanted you to know from it."
"I understand, wicahcala
."
The shaman nodded. "To see the white tatanka
, to see yourself slay it.... I would think that this was your future."
Across from him, the medicine man nodded too "Hau
, Cinksi. And so the rest of your vision must be your future, as well."
The girl frowned, her dark brows furrowed. "But, the pale woman? Is she my future? And why did she call me mahasanni ki?"
"It is hard to say. She is a stranger to us. She must be a stranger to our ways. But she is involved with the tatanka." Inyan Ceye stared into the flames of the fire. "And you will hurt her as you did the white tatanka."
For some inexplicable reason, Cinksi's heart twisted in sadness to hear that.
"You have had a very powerful vision, wikoskalaka
," the shaman said. "I think it is time you took a new name." He appeared to be in thought before he smiled. "You will be known as Wi Ile Anpo, as was in your vision."
The girl's father and the medicine man nodded in agreement, their faces happy. "Thank you, wicahcala," Anpo, who used to be Cinksi, responded.
Chapter 2
Winyan Ki
(ween-yahn kee)
The Woman
1759
"Push, lass! Yer almost there!"
The 'lass' in question panted with exertion as another contraction hit her. With a growl that was more animal than human, she did as she was bade, almost sitting up in her attempt. She was supported from behind by her mother as the midwife encouraged her.
"Good, lass! I can see the head now." Ignoring the groan of frustration from the mother-to-be, the old midwife ran her hand along the distended belly. "I think the babe's about ready to have a look at the world."
"None too soon," the woman's mother spoke up, her voice reflecting her concern. She brushed her daughter's strawberry blonde hair out of the flushed face. "How are you, Rachel?"
The pregnant woman's face was a brilliant red and sweat poured off her body. "As well as can be expected, mum," she whispered breathlessly with an Irish lilt. "Though which of us is to be the more stubborn remains to be seen."
Kathleen O'Neill
chuckled and wrung out a wet cloth to mop the heated forehead of her daughter. "Ye'll win out, eventually, love. Ye did with me." She brought the cool cloth to the woman's neck and cheeks. "I tried to keep ye the full nine months, but ye'd none of it."
Another contraction welled up and the woman groaned as she forced herself to apply more pressure. And suddenly she felt a loosening sensation within.
The midwife barely had time to capture the babe that abruptly chose to rush out of the womb. As she cut the umbilical cord and tied it off, the new mother slumped back into her own mother's embrace in exhaustion. The old woman smacked the newborn and the baby cried out at the indignity. She smiled and clucked at the baby, cleaning and wrapping it with a sense of a job well done.
Rachel McGlashan
felt as if her entire body was made of pudding, all the energy spirited away. Without even realizing it, she dozed off through the cries of her firstborn child, not rousing until she felt the warm weight pressed onto her chest.
"Here, lass. Yer daughter needs ta be fed." The old midwife smiled. "And I need ye to push one final time fer me. Must get the afterbirth out."
The new mother found herself caught up in a wave of tender emotions as she guided the hungry, questing mouth to her breast. Almost in afterthought, she bore down one more time and a mess of placental membrane was ejected from her womb.
With evident experience, the midwife cleaned up the area, checking for any extensive bleeding carefully. Satisfied that all was well, she grinned up at Rachel. "I'll be going now, lass. Ye be gettin' some rest." She bustled towards the door, not expecting an answer. There rarely is after the first birth. With a happy grin, she let herself out of the room.
O'Neill eased out from behind her daughter, blue eyes sparkling with joy. "Congratulations, Rachel," she said softly, brushing aside the swaddling cloth to peek at her granddaughter. She was heartened to see reddish peach fuzz on the head. "It looks like she'll continue on the blonde legacy."
Rachel smiled lazily, a thumb running across the fuzz. "Thank ye, mum."
"Did ye and Jonathon come up with a name yet?"
The younger woman's smile broadened. "Aye. Mum, I'd like ye to meet Kathleen Sarah McGlashan
." She chuckled at her mother's pleased surprise. "If 'twere a boy, we were plannin' on Stewart Franklin
for Jon's da and mine."
"I'm honored, Rachel. Thank you." O'Neill turned as she heard the door opening. She stood back a bit as her son-in-law stepped anxiously into the room.
"Mrs. Perdy said it was all right..." the tall dark young man offered, uncomfortable with imposing.
Rachel smiled warmly and held out a free hand to her husband. "Jon! Come see yer daughter!"
McGlashan
slowly approached the bed, his blue eyes shining almost in fear. His mother-in-law scooted a chair closer to the edge of the bed and gestured him to it. Grateful, he settled down on the edge.
O'Neill stepped away from the couple, remembering a time when she and her husband, Franklin, had done the same thing - doting on the newly arrived Rachel. The older woman stopped long enough to watch them for a few moments before sneaking out of the room.
Behind her, she could hear her son-in-law's awe filled voice. "She's beautiful, Rachel...!"
1765
"Kathleen Sarah McGlashan!"
The girl froze in mid step. When her mother used her full name, she knew she was in double trouble. 'Tisn't anything new, she thought ruefully as she turned back around and faced the wrathful parent. "Yes, mum?"
"If I've told ye once, I've told ye a thousand times, lass!" A toddler was gently pushed in the six year old's direction. "Take yer brother with ye! He wants to play as much as ye."
The little blonde girl sighed deeply, her shoulders sagging at the injustice of her life. "Aye, mum," she mumbled. Her body showed its reluctance as she reached out to take her younger brother's pudgy hand in her own. As Kathleen turned back towards the door, she tried her best not to take it out on him. 'Tis not his fault he's a slobbery little brat.
She failed to see the fond smile her mother gave them as they left.
Kathleen stepped out the door of the small hovel her family resided in and looked about. The sky was overcast and the fog was still trying to burn off from the morning. In the distance, she could see white spots dotting the hillside. Her grandfather was with the sheep this day, somewhere out there. Her father was off to the village to look for work.
As her mother whistled a tune while she cleaned up after their midday meal, the girl tugged Stewart
around the side of the house. She deposited the three year old by the window next to a nice mudhole. Soon the two were happily creating pies in the gooey soil. Kathleen considered her lot in life as she molded the mud.
It had been harder since Gram O'Neill had passed away a few months ago. The old woman had been the light of the home, always cheerful, always finding the good in everything. Kathleen had spent more time with her grandmother than any other member of her family. Her lessons with the tin whistle had come to a halt now that her namesake had died. The girl sorely missed her presence, as did the rest of the household.
The sound of a door closing brought the girl back to the present. Da's home! Through the window, she could hear her parents speaking.
"Jon! Yer back early. Did ye find anything?" her mother asked.
The sound of wood scraping as a chair was pulled out. Kathleen could almost see her father settling in at the head of the table. "No. No work to be had here. I did find somethin' interesting, though."
Her mother's voice had moved away from the window. Probably sitting by da. She eyed her little brother who'd gotten tired of the mudpies and was now content to slap the puddle. Dirty water splashed up and he giggled. Kathleen rolled her blue eyes.
"What is it?"
"There's a ship goin' to the New World next week. We could become indentured and start afresh in another land." A silence followed.
Outside the window, the little girl frowned. What's it mean? 'Indentured'?
Her mother's voice sounded strained. "Jon...."
"Now, Rachel, hear me out, lass." There was a pause as McGlashan gathered his thoughts. "We've got nothin' here, Rach. Haven't for some time. We don't own the land, we don't own this shack. We're workin' our fingers to the bone for somebody else!"
"I know, love...."
"No! You don't! We could be doin' the same bloody thing in the Americas, paying off our transport and getting land of our own. We'd be beholdin' to none!" The man's voice became softer. "I've heard the tales, Rachel. 'Tis the land of milk and honey, love, with green acres for as far as the eye can see."
Kathleen could hear her mother's sigh through the window. Meanwhile, Stewart had discovered the joys of tossing his mudpies into the puddle. Mum's goin' ta kill me, she thought as she realized just how filthy the little boy was.
McGlashan continued, forcing the issue. "The reason we didn't do it before was yer mum. She didn't want to leave her home. Yer father has no such compunction. We've spoken of it before. He believes as I, that there's nothin' here for our family." A pause. "Besides, yer sister's there. Ye know ye miss her."
The little girl stood up and grabbed hold of her brother's hand, trying to get him to stand as well. Stewart was resistant, wanting to play in the water more than obey her. He whined a bit and strained with his other hand to reach another mudpie to toss on the puddle.
Inside the hovel, her father continued the discussion. "I want our children to live free, Rachel. I want our son to be a man of substance, our daughter to raise her family on her own land."
Stewart began crying as he was pulled unceremoniously away from his point of interest. "No! No! No!" he yelled at his sibling in frustration.
"What the...?"
And then Rachel was in the window, peering out at her children. At first her face was a mask of concern which was immediately followed by a furious look as she took in the state of their clothing.
"Kathleen Sarah McGlashan!"
The little blonde girl winced, releasing her brother's hand. Double trouble again, she thought as her brother happily made his way back to the puddle.
Well, one good thing. I don't have ta keep an eye on bratty Stewart today! Kathleen dodged a pair of legs and continued to traipse along behind her mum and da. She firmly held onto a canvas bag that thumped her shins as she walked. Around her was the smell of the sea and fish and unwashed bodies.
The brat in question was perched on her da's shoulders, his blue eyes wide as he surveyed the crowd of people on the docks. Kathleen wistfully glanced up at him, towering above her, and wished that it was she on her father's shoulders. But da says I'm gettin' too big, she mourned.
"Come along, Kath." Rachel reached down and took her daughter's hand. "We're almost to the ship."
Kathleen quickened her step to keep up, excitement building in her heart.
Both the little girl's parents carried a heavy satchel, as did her grandda behind them. Additionally, there was a pack on her father's back that Stewart was perched on. The bags held most of the small family's entire world - clothing, personal items and such to include food to be eaten once on board. There were two trunks that were already in the hold, having been delivered by McGlashan the night before.
I'm goin' to the Americas! Her da had regaled her with tales all week as they sorted through their belongings and prepared for the trip. "Land as far as the eye can see, Kath! All free for the taking for whoever can till the soil. Honey flowing in the rivers and milk from the trees." Kathleen wasn't too sure about this last bit of information. It sounded like poppycock to her but she hadn't denied him, not wanting to hurt his feelings.
And then there was a break in the crowd and she was able to finally see. Her family had stopped and set their bags on the ground of the dock. Her da was talking to a man checking a list of names. A wooden ramp led up towards a huge ship and Kathleen's eyes bugged out at the sheer size of it.
"Grandda! 'Tis huge!" she exclaimed, tugging on the older man's trousers.
Franklin O'Neill
chuckled. "Aye, 'tisn't it?" He crouched down to look at the ship from his granddaughter's point of view. "And we'll be on her fer over a month, Kathleen."
Considering it had taken an hour to get to this spot, which was far, far away
compared to what she usually travelled, the girl was impressed. "A whole month!? The Americas are so far away then?"
"Aye, they are," her mother interjected. Blue eyes that matched the girl's clouded in sadness. "A long way from here."
Sadness for her mother welled up in Kathleen's heart. She flung her arms around her mum's waist and hugged her fiercely. "I'll miss home, too," she said. "But da says there's milk and honey for the takin'."
Rachel smiled at her daughter's attempts to cheer her up. She held her close in a warm embrace. "I know, love. And we'll all get fat and sassy in our new home."
"'Ere! 'oo's next!?" the porter called out.
"Come along, Rach," McGlashan called. "Da, let's go!" He herded his small family towards the ship and their future.
The first night was the best. Once all the passengers had been loaded on, their belongings settled and bedding assigned, the ship left port and headed for open sea. For the rest of the afternoon, the inhabitants became acquainted, fixed their meals and cozied up their tiny portions of the vast hold they had been put in.
Eventually, as the night came on, a few men found common ground. First one pulled out a fiddle. Then another pulled a tin whistle from his baggage. Followed by a third and fourth with a dulcimer and drum respectively. In no time, a lively tune was filling the air and several people had begun to dance.
"Look, da! He's got a tin whistle!" Kathleen announced, her eyes bright with excitement. "D'ye think I can get lessons from him?" She knew that her Gram's whistle was in her bag, one of the few keepsakes she had to remember the old woman by.
McGlashan pursed his lips in thought. "I b'lieve so, Kath. Let me speak to him and see if we can come to an agreement."
The little girl's smile widened and she looked up to her father with adoration. "Oh, da! 'Twould be grand if ye did!" And then she giggled as he swept her up into his arms and began to dance around.
And so, Kathleen Sarah McGlashan spent the remainder of the trip to the Americas in sheer bliss. When she wasn't required to take care of bratty Stewart, she spent all her time with Mr. Gallagher from Dublin who continued her lessons on the tin whistle.
Tiopa Ki Lakota Page 4