The Blanket of Blessings

by Betty L. Milne

  IT SEEMED LIKE a long winter to Angie, but spring was here and the leaves had returned to the trees. Kimana told Angie that they would soon be returning to the mountains, but before they went, the Sun Dance celebration would be held.

  The village swelled to several thousand as Shoshone tribes from different parts of Idaho, Oregon, Nevada and Utah made the journey to join in the celebration. The excitement and gathering reminded Angie of the county fairs in Columbia and she felt swept up in the festivities.

  The men gathered around huge campfires, waiting for word of the coming of the bison. Buffalo was the mainstay for the plains people, and hunting arrived once in the spring and once in the fall, depending on the migration of the huge animals. The bison meat was the centerpiece of the celebration and the hunt had to be accomplished before the Sun Dance could begin.

  Sometimes weeks would go by before the buffalo would make their appearance. During that time, the Shoshone began to collect poles for the dance hall. Branches from the trees would be used for the walls and roof, and the longest poles were selected to be placed in the center of a cleared space. Three black rings were painted near the top of the poles before placing them. These rings were called “wish rings” where the warriors could ask for special gifts from the Sun god, such as wealth, strength, many wives, or success in battle.

  Once the dance hall was completed, the people would also take advantage of the gathering of tribes to arrange and perform marriages, show off new babies, and make individual decisions on whether to return to their home or move on to other lands.

  It was not long before two mounted hunters rode into the village and declared that buffalo had been spotted across the plains. Men gathered their spears and mounted their horses. Women and children prepared the drag sleds and followed on foot, all except the very young and the very old. They stayed behind to keep the fires burning and help prepare for the bounty.

  Each hunter would stay by his kill until his family arrived to cut up the meat. The women were very adept at removing the hide and meat, first from one side, and then the horsemen would turn the bison over with ropes and the women did the same on the other side.

  Angie was invited to go with Kimana’s family as Halona stayed behind. Angie was curious about the great hunt and was anxious to do something she hadn’t experienced before. Onawa, Kimana’s father, sat on his horse beside the fallen animal, proudly waiting for his family to come with the drag sled. Waneta, her mother began the process of removing the hide and was very adept at the job. Angie was amazed to see Kimana almost as capable as her mother. Other women from Kimana’s family, her aunts and a cousin also helped in removing the hide and meat as they would also share the meat for their families. Angie was revolted by the process. The blood was making her sick, but she continued to watch. She wasn’t quite sure why, she just couldn’t take her eyes away from the operation. Kimana asked her if she wanted to help. At first, Angie shook her head ‘no’, but then moved in closer and asked Kimana what she should do. After Waneta cut the slabs of meat, she helped Kimana load them onto the sled. Once all the meat was loaded, the hide was thrown on top to protect it from insects, and then the women followed the husband back to the village.

  Angie looked behind her at the women who were still waiting for their husbands to make their kill, and was glad that Onawa was a good hunter.

  Kimana’s family was one of the first to return with their meat, but soon, other families began to return with their bison as well. Angie stayed with Kimana’s family and helped them hang the meat to dry. After a few hours, they took the slabs of meat down and put them between two stones and pounded them until they were tender, and then hung them up again. Angie worked all afternoon with them, and tried her best to pound and hang the meat. Waneta smiled at Angie and nodded her head, assuring her that she was doing a good job.

  By the time for the evening meal, Waneta handed Angie a slab of meat to take to Halona for the celebration. Angie was excited to show Halona her donation to the festival for them, and ran all the way. Proudly, she held out her arms showing Halona the large slab of meat.

  “Look, Halona,” Angie smiled. “I have brought us meat for the celebration!”

  Halona was sitting outside her teepee preparing food for their meal. “Hang it up,” Halona said, no expression on her face, and pointed over to a nearby pole.

  “I worked hard today,” Angie told her as she tried to tie it to the poles the best she could, “I helped gather the meat and we hung it to dry and then we pounded it and hung it again.”

  “I have done it many times,” was all Halona said.

  Even if Halona wasn’t impressed, Angie felt good about her accomplishments.

  Within the next several days, the hunting was over and the celebration began. Only the men called upon the wish rings to bestow them their favors from the Sun god. They painted their bodies white and then marched twice in opposite directions around the inside of the dance hall. They were preceded by a holy man carrying a buffalo skull, representing the buffalo spirit and giving thanks to the Great Spirit. Once all the men had marched through the hall and cast their wishes upon the wish rings, they rested for the night.

  The next morning, at sunrise, each man painted his body in bright colors, donned aprons of beaded designs, bracelets of porcupine quills around their wrists, and a cluster of bells around their ankles. The musicians started to play, both men and women began to sing a monotonous chant, and the dancing began. For three days and nights, the dancers ate no food or drank liquid, only resting for short periods, swaying back and forth to the music.

  Every morning, the medicine men from each village would give prayers and rub rabbit feet on the pole, reaching up toward the wishing rings, and the music and dancing would continue.

  Angie didn’t understand the spiritual aspects of the ceremony. The people asking for annual blessings and their relationship with the buffalo spirit didn’t make sense to her. She didn’t understand the Indian people’s worship of the Great Spirit or the Mother Earth, or any of their other gods. Her tender age kept her distracted with children’s games and a young girl’s dreams.

  On the fourth morning, the women began to roast the bison meat on the spits they’d built, gathered roots and berries, and brought other foods that had been collected, and started preparing for the great feast. Angie stayed with Halona all morning, helping to prepare for the celebration. She worked hard and wished Halona would appreciate any thing she did, but not a word of gratitude came from Halona’s mouth.

  At noon on that fourth day, the tom toms ceased playing, people stopped chanting, and there was only silence in the village. Those men who had not already been overcome with exhaustion, staggered around and fell to the ground, to rest for the coming evening celebration.

  At sunset came the feast, and the village began to rejoice. Gifts, including horses and wives, were exchanged. Angie felt this tradition was very repulsive. She could understand giving away horses, but not wives. Some of the men had many wives, especially the chiefs. This was new to her and hard to comprehend.

  More marriages were performed, and more engagements were agreed upon between the men. The women had very little to say about the arrangements, and some marriages were settled upon at the birth of the girl child. Angie felt very disturbed for her friends. Kimana had shared with her that she had already been promised in marriage to a man named Dyami. He was ten years older than she was, and they would marry when she reached the age of 15 at the Sun Dance celebration.

  “Do you love him?” Angie asked her.

  Kimana laughed and said, “No, he is an old man.”

  “He is not old, just older than us,” Angie reasoned.

  “He looks old to me,” Kimana confided.

  “Why are you going to marry him if you do not love him?” Angie asked her.

  “To have a man is a great source of pride,” Kimana answered. “He will provide for me and our children, and I will paint pictures on our teepee of his great accomplishmen
ts.”

  Kimana seemed satisfied with her future, but Angie just shook her head.

  “I will not marry,” Angie said, “unless I love him. He must be just like my father, and be very handsome.”

  “Very few women can decide such things,” Kimana told her. “Only the men know what is best.”

  “That is silly!” Angie argued. “Do you think Enyeto knows what is best? Or Siwili? Or even Elsu?

  “They are young,” Kimana told her, “they will learn. Wisdom comes with age.”

  “Wisdom comes to us all,” Angie insisted, “man or woman. I will listen to my heart and I will listen to my God. He will tell me what man I will marry or not marry.”

  “Will you ask the Sun god for this favor?” Kimana asked her.

  “No, I do not pray to the Sun god,” Angie responded, “I pray to the only God, the God of Heaven. The God of the Bible.”

  “The white man’s god?” Kimana asked her.

  “Yes, the white man’s god,” Angie confirmed, “He cares for me and has kept me safe and will someday return me to my people.”

  “You cannot leave us, Angie Owens,” Kimana protested. “Your god has brought you to us and you are Shoshone now. You belong here.”

  “No,” Angie said gently. “My God will take me to California one day. I know it in my heart.”

  “Then I will pray to him that he will change his mind,” Kimana resolved.

  Angie didn’t say anything further, but knew her mind and her heart were set. Even with all the festivities, this celebration did not bring her closer to the Shoshone people. If anything, it made her feel even more different than before. She longed to be in a church again, with a Bible in her hand. She longed to celebrate Christmas and Easter and even May Day around the May Pole. She longed to be sitting inside a warm farmhouse with a simple Thanksgiving dinner set on the table, her family and friends enjoying stories around the fireplace. These people weren’t that much different than her own, with their celebrations and stories and love of family. But it wasn’t the same, and she longed for similarity again.

  Tomorrow they would pack up and head back for the mountains. The snow should be gone now and their summer home was waiting for them.

  I will stay with these people. Angie said to God in her prayers that night. I will make them my people for as long as you wish me to live with them. But I pray to go home, God. I pray to go home to my own people. Please hear my prayer, O God, please send me home.

 

  The Fishing Lesson