With only a shift of feet, Small Warrior's fist drove solidly into his attacker's loincloth and almost magically the Delaware's shocked features bent forward into striking distance. There was time for only a single stroke before a companion would be upon him, and even then the second Delaware's angry shout seemed in his ear. Ignoring the inviting closeness of the painted face, Small Warrior kicked the stunned man behind the knee and let him fall in his friend's path. Then he whirled and darted toward the berry thicket.
From an eye corner, he saw the second Delaware hurdle his friend's form and pursue him in mighty strides. The man should have known better; catching a vigorous youth is like grasping an eel with an elbow. Small Warrior sped along the briar trail with the women's encouragements spurring him on.
Though the Delaware believed it, retreat was not Small Warrior's intent. Well into the thicket he twisted aside and dove headlong into one of the many tunnels village youths used in their play. Thorns bit, but he scuttled ahead leaving the Delaware fuming along the path.
Though listening for his pursuer's actions, Small Warrior did not slow his pace. He changed tunnels, slithering snake-like in a crooked course back toward the river bank.
The thicket grew out of many stones and before his tunnel again reached the path, Small Warrior chose one larger than his fist. Stilling his breathing, hidden by the bushes and vines, he listened for his enemy's approach.
The disgruntled Delaware walked back to his friends and his thoughts were of his companion's injuries. The descent of the stone on his firmly planted instep astonished and agonized him. The instant pain allowed only a wheeze and he hopped clear, grasping at his injury, his breath popping his cheeks with the misery of it. The tunnel mouth was already empty and he saw no one for vengeance.
In the clearing, the third Delaware was helping his larger companion who held his crotch and bent with pain. The second, limping badly, appeared from the thicket and with little discussion they half carried their leader toward their canoe.
The women hooted disdain and waved insulting gestures while, near the thicket, the youth who had caused it stood silently watching. The Delaware with the injured foot growled in his throat and made motions of starting for the boy, but detecting no fear he left it as a threat and continued on to the canoe.
White Oak was placed as passenger and the canoe pushed off. The Delawares did not waste effort on promises of vengeance; women's voices would have dwarfed them.
Even Late Star found no fault with the story and Friend Seeker was pleased and amused. More than one suggested that the Seeker surrender his duties to Small Warrior and devote his time to hunting and fishing.
Among the lodges, women laughed together and imitated the defeated Delaware. Special cookings appeared at Friend Seeker's lodge with instructions that they were for Small Warrior, and the abused maiden presented him with a wristlet of braided and decorated leather. Her dark eyes thanked him and as her lips smiled demurely. Small Warrior experienced unfamiliar tensions and wondered at the heat in his face.
Before the fire grew small and men chose to sleep, Friend Seeker became serious and the unexpected words of praise swelled the heart of Small Warrior.
"We do not speak of deadly combat, but our nephew has faced enemies in defense of his village. There is honor in this.
"There is also honor in his punishments. They were swift and of good strength. Anger or pride did not prolong them and they caused no permanent injuries. The judgment of Small Warrior was bright."
Then Friend Seeker rose and drew the boy with him. He stood Small Warrior on his sitting stone so that his head was high in the circle. It was proud to look on the graying braided hair and upturned faces of men who had earned their places. Small Warrior's stomach fluttered with the importance of it, and he tried to appear strong in body yet properly humble and respectful.
The lowering fire danced across bronze features and dark eyes, but Small Warrior believed he saw respect before all turned again to the words of his teacher.
"For all of his seasons Small Warrior has struggled on the warrior's path. All have seen this." The nods and grunts of agreement tingled the boy's limbs.
"Cold and lonely is that path, and few are its rewards. It is a path of pain and duty. Its returns will be honor for himself and his people.
"Today Small Warrior stood for his village. His acts were brave for his opponents were many and they were men. His acts were planned and his thoughts clear. His acts were wise for they were successful.
"Because he has done well and because he wears his victories without false pride, his teachers choose to place a new mark upon their student.
"Here stood Small Warrior." Friend Seeker's hand passed before the boy's entranced features. "Here now stands Young Warrior.
"As Young Warrior we shall know him and as Young Warrior he shall grow.
"Strong will be the deeds of Young Warrior, for such a name demands proving.
"Bright will be the honor of Young Warrior, for such a name requires it."
Friend Seeker hesitated before placing an open hand upon the boy's head, and a smile quirked his lips as his voice lightened.
"And humble, cheerful and industrious will be Young Warrior for his teachers insist upon it!"
Men chuckled in amusement and voices blended as the circle ended and men turned to their lodges. A few ruffled the boy's hair or slapped his shoulder in passing and, in that moment, Young Warrior believed all of the seasons of labor had been worthwhile.
Beyond the fire circle warm brown eyes peered from behind a lodge and Young Warrior touched his wristband, again feeling the strange bodily heat and recalling that the girl was called Pond Lily and her family was large with many children.
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Chapter 6: Age 12
There were times in his training when he was told to act as a specific animal.
"Great is the buffalo's strength, Young Warrior, and when he is startled, muscles roll beneath his skin. Yet he is quick and he can spin to keep his enemies facing the strength of his horns."
"Strength and weight are the buffalo's weapons. When he rushes through the forest he tramples weaker growth and he attacks in a straight line. To face him is to challenge his greatest power. "
"This day you shall be the buffalo. Be quick, but overcome your enemies with strength not cleverness. Use club and fist and overwhelm them with attacks that smash their bones.
"At times you must use the buffalo's mighty bellowing to frighten and confuse, but often a silent rush must be delivered with such ferocity that it alone shrinks the hearts of your enemies.
"Remember, Young Warrior, a buffalo attack must be carried through until no enemy stands. Its strength is its determination and there is no way to use it gently."
Then he would challenge the forest and its imagined foes with violent rushes led by club and bruising shoulders that drove over and through the underbrush as he battered invisible enemies into submission.
Unlike the buffalo, being the deer required stealth and clever retreat. Then he became one with the forest, pulling even his spirit close within so his enemies would pass unsuspecting.
The wolf was a favorite, as it offered both cunning and courage. Cautious skulking became lightning attack that chose with exactitude both instant and target. The wolf preyed on field mouse or deer, so the skills differed and could always be improved.
Never did he practice being the rat or the rabbit; they were of little heart, but he was the snake, the hawk, and even the river fish which could hide in plain view and dart to safety in an instant. Most creatures had special skills and he sought to learn them.
To have played the animal a few times would have developed little beyond awareness of differences, but to perform a role time and again, often beneath The Seeker's critical eye, perfected techniques and created an empathy until at times the young warrior's spirit changed and he became the hungry wolf or darting weasel. Thereafter Friend Seeker might nod the approval that lifted the youth's heart
, or even smile in satisfaction, which approached ultimate accolade.
Often the tasks appeared hopelessly difficult or they seemed foolish, and occasionally he longed for the lazy life he saw others enjoying. Once he asked his teachers when he would be skilled enough to cease the endless exercises.
The Seeker had pointed to the highest tree, upon which an eagle perched. "When you can climb the tree and capture the child of the thunderbird for us to stroke in friendship we will know the end is not far."
To the young warrior, it was clear that his labors would never cease. The tree was an ancient pine devoid of concealment and without limbs until near its lightning blasted top. He discovered that even in this impossible challenge there was learning, for when he spoke of its impossibility, his teacher raised a new and important idea.
"Know, my student, that a warrior is surrounded by his spirit and it is felt by others. Late Star claims that at times he can see a spirit and that it glows as though a man stood before a fire. It is strongest close to the body and weakens as it departs. The more powerful the spirit, the further it will carry."
He looked sharply at Young Warrior. "Have you not felt someone's presence before you saw or heard him?" At the youth's nod he questioned again, "Have you not sensed an animal before discovering him? Some of that may be an animal's spirit, for they too have presence.
"You have felt the power of the chiefs and warriors you have faced. Though they wore no paint and sat in repose, from them sensations as clear as sun on skin or wind across a warm belly reached and touched you. Is that not so, my student?"
He turned then, pointing toward the eagle tree, "A warrior properly skilled could control his spirit and draw it within so that even though it saw, the eagle would not believe a captor waited. To the eagle his captor would seem as lifeless as the tree and he would not fear.
"Can a warrior so control his spirit?" Friend Seeker paused and turned thoughtful. "Surely we all try. In battle, we hurl our spirits outward and our enemy feels them, and in war I have felt an enemy's spirit fail and fade.
"Only in death, have I known a spirit to be completely hidden, but as one can learn to project, so he should be able to withdraw.
"Can a warrior trick an eagle?" He smiled grimly, "Perhaps Young Warrior will be the first to succeed."
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Chapter 7: Age 13
On a flat within a tree grove, Friend Seeker had placed a heavy log. Regularly Young Warrior lifted the log and, clutching it to his chest, half squatted before springing powerfully into the air. Landing loosely and carefully balanced, he repeated the leap until his thighs burned.
It was an uninteresting exercise that caused pain. Not only his thighs ached but the log ground into his chest and his arms and shoulders strained beneath the weight. Friend Seeker stated that, performed with effort, the leaping would develop an ability to spring like a deer. For that reason Young Warrior had practiced diligently and found that, as usual, his teacher was right. His legs gained surprising strength and his body seemed able to assist by flowing with the effort.
When he had questioned why this was so, Friend Seeker had tied his arms to his sides and encouraged him to leap as before. This time his efforts were clumsy and his balance poor. This showed, The Seeker said, that strength for every act correctly came from all parts. An improperly cocked head could destroy balance. A flailing arm could do the same, or, if running, it could waste important strength.
Young Warrior understood, but without Friend Seeker's knowledge, he also began leaping with his arms pinned uselessly at his sides. To give his self-imposed agonies meaning, he imagined himself tied by deadly enemies who had looked away as, still bound, he leaped to safety. Again his strength and balance grew better and he saw that by regularly performing any of the exercises from different positions he could make surprising gains.
Once he had noticed that his body had been barely able to progress if he attempted to crawl with only hands and toes touching the earth. Through practice he could now race through the woods in that unnatural position. Would the skill be of value beyond giving strength? Perhaps, for he could travel swiftly, lower to the ground, where movement was more hidden by brush and fallen trees.
Continued exercise was lonely but the tasks had been his since before he could remember. Each day he went to them without complaint, and whether Friend Seeker was near or at village duties, he did his best.
Occasionally, other youths determined that they too would train as Young Warrior did, but those near his own age found themselves impossibly outclassed and those seasons older were hard put to approach his strengths and skills and quickly sought more rewarding pursuits. Young Warrior endured the loneliness with little acknowledgment of it, but occasionally he wished for time to play the games and follow the youthful chasing through the valleys near the fishing camp. His was to be a different destiny; he had so been told since his first memory.
Youths of the village had been ordered to leave Young Warrior undisturbed in his labors and most were accustomed to doing so. A village elder called Large Fish was a fervent supporter of Young Warrior's efforts. Father of many sons who now did the lodge's hunting while an equal number of daughters tended the beans and corn, Large Fish boasted often of his own youth as Friend Seeker's close companion. Himself of giant size. Large Fish saw in Young Warrior all that he might have been. Near Large Fish, none could mock or belittle the warrior in training.
Though appreciative of Large Fish's support, Young Warrior had long known the true story. Told by Late Star, who had only heard it, and smilingly acknowledged by Friend Seeker, who ordered that the telling go no further, Young Warrior learned how the huge but awkwardly unskilled Large Fish had been effectively thumped by a youthful Friend Seeker and later lured into at least civil behavior. From the telling, Late Star developed a lesson.
"Large Fish is not a bad man, Young Warrior, and do not hold him in disdain. The Fish, like most, chose simply to grow as would a weed. If his size was to be great, his strength would, without effort, also be more than most. But as he discovered, compared with one who chose the training of a warrior, he was as nothing.
"It can already be seen that you will become as tall as the pine, but you will be trained beyond all other warriors until their skills are to yours as Large Fish's were to Friend Seeker's. This gift will be yours because your time is not wasted and because your teacher is Friend Seeker, the student of Three Feathers, who learned this way of training. Of course—and Late Star was not above preening a little—you are also the nephew of Late Star who can speak wisely of things only suspected by others.
"That is your destiny, our nephew. Perhaps The Great Spirit himself has directed your uncles to aid you on this path. I have often asked The Sky Father if that were so, but I have gained no answer.
"We are your teachers, but in seasons ahead your strengths and skills will pass beyond ours and your path will then be your own. Until that time, sit willingly at the feet of your teachers. Let your spirit swell with the honored tales, let your mind absorb knowledge as sand does water, and let your body grow ever stronger, quicker, swifter until none can approach you.
"Then you will know the labors have been worthy. Then you will stand close to The Sky Father and the old uncles who watch from the great hunting ground. Then you will be called The Warrior and Friend Seeker and Late Star, perhaps on the spirit trail, will gain honor and speak proudly of the nephew who replaces them."
Inevitably, all youths did not heed warnings or obey their fathers. In his earliest years, Small Warrior suffered their abuses, but as the first hair appeared on his body to announce a special level of development, the last of the incidents occurred.
Alone, as usual, with his tasks, Young Warrior swung hand over hand among tree limbs he had attacked a thousand times before. Worn smooth by his hands alone, the natural limbs had been joined by slender logs tied in place until Young Warrior could travel many routes through a large stand of trees. Accustomed to the efforts, he could spee
d handhold to handhold as fast as a man could walk or suddenly disappear straight up into higher foliage, only to reappear at another place far across the copse.
A trio of visiting youths had been brought by a younger boy to see this remarkable activity. Older, almost ready to take their places among the hunters, they squatted to watch stony-faced as Young Warrior toiled among the tree limbs.
The leader muttered disparaging remarks that amused his friends and encouraged him further. Unappreciative, the young guide repeated the warnings he had received and learned to obey.
"Do not interfere with Young Warrior, my cousins. He is a special person and his tasks are already difficult. Friend Seeker has told us this many times and our fathers say he is right."
The leader snorted disdain, "Anyone can swing through trees if they practice a little," and to make his point he rose and leaped for a handy branch he had seen Young Warrior use. His hands struck cleanly, but he had not counted on the limb's worn smoothness; his hands slipped and, back first, he thudded jarringly onto the forest floor. Air exploded from his lungs and he lay windless, struggling for breath and hearing his guide's laughter ringing through the forest.
Young Warrior heard the fall, and seeing the victim lying motionless he swung to the ground and loped across to help. By then the older boy was up and his friends were quickly brushing dirt and leaves from his back.
Still convulsed by laughter, the young guide tried to help, but embarrassed and enraged, the leader shoved him violently away and then, needing something on which to vent his anger, he drew back an arm to slap the still grinning youth.
He swung hard, intending to remove the smile taunting him, but at the crucial instant a not ungentle shove against his shoulder spoiled his aim and the weight of his missed swing nearly toppled him again. He regained his balance and guessing what had happened, his anger lost its bluster and glowed with a hot hunger.
The Warrior (Perry County, Pennsylvania Frontier Series) Page 5