Grey Eyes

by Franks Busch

  “Throw some more wood on the fire,” commanded the old man casually, still trying to shake the cold out of his old bones.

  “Motch!” replied the matriarch, who fired a quick frown at him. “We don’t have much wood left.”

  “Wood,” scoffed Painted Turtle Man. “Do you think we will need wood to stay warm when our clan’s Grey-Eyed boy is born?”

  Silence gouged the tattered lodge. Even the expectant mother was quieted at the prospect. The Bear clan had not produced a Grey-Eye in over three generations. The other clans of Nisichawayasihk had begun to murmur that there was no magic left amongst the Bears. To them, the notion that the child about to be born was a Grey-Eye was at best an old fool’s fantasy, at worst a cruel joke.

  Painted Turtle Man was the only one among them, besides Walking Moon Woman, who had seen the last Grey-Eye of the Bear clan and had felt his magic as a boy. He had been called Grey Bear and they said his magic had no limits. Grey Bear had raised the Bear clan to prominence in his time, using the Grey-Eye magic to help all of the Nehiyawak. Grey Bear’s magic was a distant legend now as the cold bit the Bear clan and the hunger in their bellies robbed them of sleep. Of the people of Nisichawayasihk, only the Eagle clan possessed the Grey-Eye magic. They alone kept the Nehiyawak safe.

  Blue Elk Man stood up with difficulty and took the old man’s arm and sat him down next to the fire.

  “I know you mean well, but this is not the time for such words. White Willow Woman must not have any distraction from her purpose.” He spoke in a hushed voice.

  The two other women frowned at the old man while White Willow Woman prepared herself for the next contraction.

  “Do you doubt my dreams? Do you no longer believe I have the sacred sight?” Painted Turtle Man asked, locking his eyes on the warrior.

  “Motch, Uncle, it’s not that…” Blue Elk Man lowered his eyes out of respect.

  “I am her mother’s cousin!” Painted Turtle Man said, speaking of Walking Moon Woman. “I was best friend to her father. I made a vow the day he was killed by the Red-Eye that I would give his descendants the teachings. Who took you to the sweat lodge? Who sponsored you in the sundance? Who taught you the medicine wheel?”

  Painted Turtle Man paused to compose himself. He regretted mentioning the Red-Eyes, from whom the Nehiyawak truly needed protection. Only the Grey-Eye magic used in the proper manner could keep the Red-Eye evil at bay. No one in Nisichawayasihk wanted to acknowledge that the Eagle clan’s Grey-Eye had grown old and that her time on Mother Earth was nearing its end. Painted Turtle Man’s prophesy forced them to face this fact. Rather than face it, they chose to push him away. Some in the village even suggested his journey might end out on the frozen lake, on the Long Walk.

  “Tapwe!” Blue Elk Man capitulated, bowing his head lower. “It was you, Uncle, and I am forever grateful. I just don’t want any of us to get false hope if it is not the will of Kitchi Manitou.”

  A sudden scream from White Willow Woman silenced the men.

  “Baby is coming!” Walking Moon Woman shouted.

  3

  nisto

  “Is the water warm?” Walking Moon Woman asked as she tended to her daughter.

  Singing Doe put down the skinned rabbit and hastily wiped her hands with snow. She grabbed the water skin that hung near the fire. It was barely warm.

  “It’s here,” she said, moving to her sister’s side.

  Blue Elk Man took his place behind his wife, singing softly in her ear and supporting her body with his strong arms as she clutched the lodge poles. With a final forceful growl, White Willow Woman collapsed backwards into her husband’s arms as the cries of a newborn baby filled the night. The sound of the new voice could be heard by all of the Nehiyawak of the village.

  “Lu-lu-lu-lu-lu-lu-lu-lu-lu-lu!!” the women of Nisichawayasihk ululated as one, though not as enthusiastically as they may have for a wealthier clan.

  “Ekosi!” old Walking Moon Woman said casually. “It is a boy.”

  The women were grateful for the new addition, and tried not to show their disappointment. The Bear clan would need a female heir if it were to survive in Nisichawayasihk.

  “Tapwe! I knew it!” the old man said. “What colour are his eyes?” He pushed forward but Brown Shield Man stopped him.

  “Let him breathe a bit.” He held the old man back, but gently.

  The baby continued to cry, eyes tightly shut as the old matriarch washed his body with the cool water and an icy wind slipped through the tattered hides.

  “The spirit of our Grandmother Bear will need to be with us this winter if he is to have a chance,” prayed Walking Moon Woman as she wrapped him in a fur. She handed the bundle to a weary White Willow Woman.

  “I know you have given so much, my girl,” said Walking Moon Woman, “but now you must give more.”

  She positioned the baby at his mother’s breast. He latched on to her immediately, suckling hungrily.

  At the sight of this most sacred moment between mother and child, the Bear clan forgot all of their troubles. A tear escaped from Blue Elk Man’s eye as he stared in wonder at his newborn son. The baby seemed satisfied for a brief moment but began to shiver against the cold. The shiver seemed to touch the entire family, snapping them all back to the reality of their poverty. Again they were reminded of their misfortunes and the hunger in their bellies. In a panic, the three women looked at each other and knew what the other was thinking. Would her milk hold up?

  Only one among them was not concerned about their situation. He craned his neck over Singing Doe and Brown Shield Man and tried desperately to see the baby up close.

  “What colour are his eyes?” Painted Turtle Man’s voice rose as he asked again, more forcefully this time.

  Now that old Walking Moon Woman was no longer occupied with the birth, she was ready to unleash her anger at her old cousin. For months he had been telling everyone in Nisichawayasihk that White Willow Woman would give birth to a Grey-Eye who would have great magic. She spun at him with a look that could pierce the heart of even the bravest warrior.

  “Ekosi!” she snapped. “I am terribly tired of your…” A change in the air stopped her. The lodge suddenly felt warm, as though something deflected the wind from the outer walls.

  “What is happening?” asked Brown Shield Man to no one in particular. “I can hear the wind but it does not seem to reach us.” The fire grew in size without any more wood being added, burning bright and warm as if by its own choice. The dried roots, herbs, and other medicines hanging from the lodge poles came to life, blooming as though it were summer again. Blue Elk Man’s bow and quiver of arrows and Brown Shield Man’s hand drum floated in the open air of the lodge. The half-skinned rabbit Painted Turtle Man had snared grew large and plump.

  Everyone turned toward the baby. No longer shivering, the boy was content, suckling at his mother’s breast. The others looked at each other, puzzled.

  “You remember what it felt like to be around Uncle Grey Bear, don’t you?” Painted Turtle Man asked. Walking Moon Woman’s eyes widened as she remembered.

  The very air had changed, carrying on it a strange vibration which could be felt deep in the chest. They gathered around the child, whose skin was glowing with an ancient magic. His eyes began to open for the first time, revealing a sliver of grey. They gasped as the boy opened his bright grey eyes fully, resting them on the faces that met his. Painted Turtle Man’s prophesy had come true. The miracle was unfolding before them.

  The old man began to sing a medicine song with his moon rattle to honour Kitchi Manitou for this supreme blessing. The wisps of smoke from the small fire twirled about, dancing to the song. The stones within the rattle sparked in a rainbow of colours that seemed to flash all around the lodge. Every now and then the family could make out the silhouettes and shadows of the ancestor spirits who had gathered within the lodge to pay
their respects.

  All doubt was gone. Once again, the Bear clan would have the Grey-Eye magic. Once again, the Nehiyawak would have to give the Bears the respect they deserved.

  4

  niyo

  The next morning was bitter cold and it took quite some time before anyone came to visit and discover the miracle. The news of the birth spread throughout Nisichawayasihk quickly, and the clan matriarchs began to gather. The village was made up of eleven lodges clustered together in seven groups representing the seven clans at Nisichawayasihk: Deer, Crane, Turtle, Wolf, Marten, Eagle, and Bear. Each clan was led by its matriarch, usually the eldest woman in the family, who was guided by the spirit of the clan’s animal totem.

  In their finest robes and adornments, the leaders of the six other clans brought forward their gifts to honour the miracle child of the Bear clan. Painted Turtle Man stood in front of the Bear lodge, nodding to each person, as the delegations lined up to enter the Bear lodge. It seemed everyone in the village—more than one hundred people—had come out, despite the cold.

  Walking Moon Woman and Singing Doe had tidied the small lodge hastily. White Willow Woman and the baby sat opposite the doorway but close to the fire. The best buffalo robes the Bears owned were laid out on either side to accommodate visitors. Walking Moon Woman and Singing Doe placed their next-best buffalo robes behind mother and child, positioning them in such a way as to cover holes and scratches. Blue Elk Man stood behind his wife and child and Brown Shield Man stayed near the door to greet the guests.

  The snow around the Bear lodge had melted, and though it was still mid-winter, grass had started to grow. Talking Stone Woman, matriarch of the Deer clan, was the first to come forward. The snow she shook from her mukluks melted quickly on the grass. A stout grandmother with a sharp mind, Talking Stone Woman liked to do what she could to keep the Deer clan strong in the eyes of the Nehiyawak. This occasion would be an opportunity to demonstrate the Deer clan’s respect and generosity to the people of Nisichawayasihk. Painted Turtle Man guided Talking Stone Woman, with her two grandchildren, in. The Deer clan matriarch barely acknowledged the old man as she entered the lodge.

  “Tansi? May the kindness of the Grandmother Deer guide the Bear clan,” she began in the way of the Deer people.

  “May the Grandmother Bear always bring her healing medicine to the Deer clan,” responded Walking Moon Woman. This blessing might have seemed a little hollow yesterday, but things had changed. The Grey-Eye magic would benefit not only the Bear clan, but the entire village. Walking Moon Woman stood to embrace the Deer matriarch, inviting her to sit next to mother and child with a wave of her arm.

  “We have come to honour the Bear clan and to show respect for the blessing Kitchi Manitou has given you. Please accept our humble gift to honour your lodge.” Talking Stone Woman’s grandchildren, a young woman wearing a white doe hide dress and a young warrior of seventeen summers, stepped forward. In their arms they held three carefully folded deer hides, which they set before White Willow Woman and her newborn child. Singing Doe took the hides, stroking them approvingly. Already she envisioned the new shirts and dresses she would make for the family.

  “May the Grandmother Deer always bless this lodge with skins to clothe the body and good meat to fill the belly,” said Talking Stone Woman. “Ekosi, there are others waiting to see the baby.”

  “Ekosi, my sister,” said Walking Moon Woman, using the familial term even though they were not blood relations. They rose to their feet and bowed to one another, and the Deer clan representatives stepped out of the Bear lodge.

  Standing Sun Woman, the bent and wrinkled matriarch of the Crane clan, was the next to enter. She was assisted by her husband, Walking Moon Woman’s older brother. A young girl of four summers and her little brother followed them, dragging a sack as big as they were. Although the little boy was trying to help, his sister seemed to be dragging him along with the sack.

  The little girl wore what appeared to be a new dress, likely brought out for the occasion. The girl strained against her labours, her carefully braided and beaded hair already unraveling. The old man moved to help but was quickly refused by the stubborn child. Singing Doe brought forward a rolled up buffalo robe for the Crane clan matriarch to sit on, but she refused.

  “Tansi? My dear sister,” Standing Sun Woman began proudly, acknowledging their relationship through marriage. “May the Grandmother Crane bless this lodge with the power of her voice.” She wet her lips with a gnarled tongue. She struggled to breathe yet her voice carried. “Please accept this wild rice, which my children gathered last autumn.” She took another deep breath. “May the blessing of our Mother Earth continue to sustain you and your new child. One day, your grandson will guide and protect our village with his magic. Perhaps one day, he will be chosen as a husband from among the Crane clan. We would be honoured to have him join our family.” The mention of marriage was no accident, since the Cranes had an infant girl in their lodge, only two months old.

  “Tapwe, the honour would be ours, my sister,” replied Walking Moon Woman. “The Bear clan would be truly blessed to welcome a Crane into our family, as you have so honoured us.” She nodded towards her older brother. “May the Grandmother Bear always bring her healing medicine to the families of the Crane clan, ekosi.”

  Brown Shield Man took the heavy sack from the Crane granddaughter. The rice was a great blessing to the Bear lodge—it would sustain the family for the rest of the winter.

  The brazen little girl approached White Willow Woman and pulled back the fur covering to take a look at the baby. “Hmm,” she huffed, against the muffled objections and embarrassment of her grandfather. Old Standing Sun Woman cackled a toothless laugh at her granddaughter’s rudeness and the others in the Bear lodge laughed as well. Grandfather came forward and took the girl’s hand, laughing with his tongue out. The Bears laughed again to ensure that no offense was taken. As the Cranes exited the lodge, the little boy squawked as he ran after his sister.

  Next to enter was Green Wing Woman, matriarch of the Turtle clan. With the arrival of the Grey-Eyed baby and the gifts that were being passed, the standing of the Turtle clan would change: they would become the poorest family in Nisichawayasihk. The Turtles were capable of hunting and gathering, but with five young children in their lodge to feed and clothe they needed more than most. Green Wing Woman came forward, accompanied by her husband, who held a small bundle. The Turtle clan would not have much to spare, but they would do their best to honour the new child.

  “Tansi? May the Grandmother Turtle guide the Bear clan in the ways of learning,” Green Wing Woman began. “Please accept our humble gift to honour the Grey-Eyed baby bear.” Her husband unraveled the small bundle, revealing a sacred ceremonial rattle. Made from the shell of a small turtle hollowed out and fastened to a wooden handle with rawhide, the rattle was the size of a man’s fist. The handle was adorned with an intricate pattern of quillwork all the way around. The inside was filled with moon stones painstakingly collected from an anthill.

  “Oooooooohhhhh,” said the Bear clan in unison.

  “This is a great honour,” acknowledged Walking Moon Woman. “One we did not expect. When the child has grown, this sacred gift will make his magic stronger. This honour will be repaid many times over and we will never forget this day. May the Grandmother Bear always bring her healing medicine to the families of the Turtle clan.”

  Brown Shield Man accepted the rattle and gave it a little shake for the new baby. A squeal escaped from the bundle and the rattle flew from Brown Shield Man’s grasp, floated in the air and shook again, guided by the Grey-Eye magic. White Willow Woman plucked the Turtle rattle from the air and handed it back to Brown Shield Man, who was still beaming as he put it away.

  “Ekosi,” said Green Wing Woman. The Turtles took their leave with heads held high.

  Outside the lodge there was trouble. The two warrior clans, the Wolfs and th
e Martens, had brought the same gift, new buffalo robes.

  “You should keep your robes,” the eldest daughter of the Wolf clan said. “You Martens may need them if the hunting is not good. It may be a long time until you are able to find the trail of another buffalo.”

  “The Martens will always find good hunting,” the daughter of the Marten clan retorted. “It is the Wolfs who should put them to use. Your warriors would not have to spend so much time in your lodges when they should be outside watching for danger.”

  The matriarchs, Gliding Heron Woman of the Marten clan and Blue Lightning Woman of the Wolf clan, stood by, not saying anything. As matriarchs, they could not insult one another, but they did nothing to discourage their daughters from hurling insults.

  “Perhaps you Martens should give meat if you are so confident.”

  “Perhaps you Wolfs should wash more often, it may be your smell that is keeping the animals so far from the village.”

  “Daughters,” Painted Turtle Man said, intervening finally. “Just look at the Bear lodge.” He waved his arm towards the patchwork hides barely covering the lodge. “You are both generous and kind. This is simply the will of Kitchi Manitou and perhaps that is who guided you. You were both given the same message to fulfill an urgent need.” The Nehiyawak did not like disharmony and it was the responsibility of the Bear clan to keep the peace.

  The younger women looked at one another, surprised by Painted Turtle Man’s obtrusion, but with most of the village watching, neither could dispute they were following Kitchi Manitou’s divine guidance in their choice of gifts.