by Franks Busch
“Well, the last time it happened the need was very great, Moosum.”
“I tell you, my boy, this may truly be a matter of life and death.”
The desperate look in the old man’s eyes had returned. It was more than enough to convince Little Grey Bear Boy that he must do whatever he could to help.
“Okay, Moosum,” he said, “I will try my best…”
“That is all anyone can ask,” Painted Turtle Man said as he shifted from foot to foot and took some deep breaths to prepare himself.
Little Grey Bear Boy drew his turtle shell rattle out of his medicine bundle and began to shake it gently. He sang an Eagle song and concentrated hard on his purpose.
The Grey-Eye magic continued to elude him—there was no vibration in the air—and he was beginning to doubt himself. He closed his eyes and cleared his mind of all doubts and fears. He sang the song loud and passionately, beseeching the spirits of the ancestors for their blessing. He lost himself in the melody and began to feel warmth in his chest. Then—a vibration in the air. As he neared the end of the song and his voice became low, he was startled by the piercing cry of an eagle.
“Thank you, grandson!”
Little Grey Bear Boy opened his eyes and saw he was standing with a large golden eagle.
“Moosum?”
“You did it, I knew you could!” said the golden eagle. “Now I must go. You must journey north until midday and then head west. Continue west for another day and then go south. Travel south for a day and then return to the village heading northeast. If it is the will of Kitchi Manitou, I will return to the village at the same time. I will be able to decipher my vision then and, if you have been blessed, I will try to help you understand your vision.”
“What is the knowledge you are seeking, Moosum?”
“I have learned something terrible about someone in our village. But I cannot speak ill of another person until I have proof of the misdeeds. That is my teaching and I must stay true to my beliefs. I only hope my vision was wrong or that I will be able to address the problem before anyone is harmed.” The eagle tried to walk on the large roots of the jack pine with much difficulty. He held up his great wings to steady himself, rustling up the dried pine needles and dust at the base of the tree.
“I am afraid, Moosum…”
“There is no shame in being afraid, my boy,” explained the golden eagle. “There is only shame in allowing fear to prevent us from doing our duty.”
The golden eagle stretched and began to flap its unsteady wings, testing. As the eagle grew steady, it jumped up and perched itself upon a large branch of the jack pine.
“Remember, my boy. You must make an offering of tobacco for any dream, vision, or animal you see on your vision quest. Listen to your heart and to the spirits of the ancestors for guidance.”
“Tapwe, Moosum,” said Little Grey Bear Boy. “Journey safely and return home!”
“And you also!” screeched the golden eagle. “May the grandmothers and grandfathers of the Nehiyawak guide and protect you on your vision quest!”
The golden eagle stretched out its wings and glided off the tree branch, rising higher and higher into the air to the southeast. Little Grey Bear Boy stood watching until it was no more than a speck on Father Sky.
When he was ready to begin his journey, Little Grey Bear Boy reached into his medicine pouch and pinched a wad of tobacco. He offered it to the four directions, then placed it at the base of the jack pine tree. He was ready.
54
niyānanomitanaw niyosāp
He started out north, as instructed, until midday, and then turned towards the west, travelling over rocks and moss, swamp and forest. He watched as Grandfather Sun passed across Father Sky, then began his descent. He had covered a lot of ground and found a suitable dry place to make camp for the night. He lit no fire, as he still had the feeling in his heart that someone was searching for him. He unrolled Many Fish’s tent and ate some smoked fish from the satchel Painted Turtle Man had given him. He was alone in a strange land, far from any medicine-picking place or hunting grounds he knew.
Little Grey Bear Boy spent some time contemplating the next few days as Grandmother Moon shined her light upon him. He wondered what Painted Turtle Man was seeking. He thought about his family, his teachings with Red Sky Man, but most of all he thought about Water Lily Woman. The vision quest was a time and place for making decisions for the future. He smiled to himself, content in the realization that he would begin to determine his own destiny more and more. He would be guided in these decisions by signs from Kitchi Manitou. It was a comforting thought that eased him to sleep.
He awoke early the next morning and decided this was the day his quest would really begin. He continued west over rough terrain, progressing slowly. He paid close attention to the land, water, and sky, searching for any sign or vision the spirits might offer. He worked his way around creeks, lakes, and rivers as well as patches of muskeg, being careful not to sink into the wet, spongy moss.
Late in the afternoon he came upon a small clearing and witnessed what he thought must be his first sign. Two grey timber wolves were playing with a small pup in the meadow. The pup yelped and chased its mother and then its father, nipping at their ears. The small wolf family seemed to be playing without a care in the world. Without warning, the two large timber wolves straightened suddenly, their ears perked up. The pup crouched down and disappeared into the grass.
Little Grey Bear Boy crouched down low as the wolves scoured the countryside for danger. He did not want to disturb them and noted the wind was blowing slightly from the north. He took out another wad of tobacco and placed it on the ground in front of him. Backing out slowly and quietly, he decided this would be a good time to begin his journey south, keeping downwind from the wolves.
He continued south until nightfall, then found another suitable place to make camp. It was a small crevice in a steep cliff face. Years of wind and rain had brought sand and gravel to the ground. The lack of moss and grass would provide some relief from insects.
He felt he was on the right path, having been given a sign. To see one of the seven sacred animals was a blessing. He felt more at ease now and built his fire next to his tent. He warmed up some dried meat with a willow branch sharpened at one end. It was strange to eat without the sounds of laughter, but there was something else in his heart: a great feeling of independence and the swelling of pride that comes with being able to survive alone. He went to sleep under the starry sky thinking about what he had witnessed this day. He could not wait to discuss the sign with Painted Turtle Man.
55
niyānanomitanaw niyānosāp
The next day he continued south, coming after a time upon a large lake. He followed the rocky shoreline as well as he could. The lake was leading him further to the east than he wanted, but before midday the shores led him back south and west. As he approached the southernmost tip of the lake, he found himself on a high cliff overlooking the lake. Grandfather Sun was high in the sky as it was now mid-afternoon. Little Grey Bear Boy began to worry he had gone too far around the lake and perhaps he should have gone around the western shore instead.
It was then he heard the distant screech of a hawk. He looked up into the sky and towards the west. The hawk was flying over the lake. There was something in its talons but it was too far away for him to tell exactly what it was. Little Grey Bear Boy crouched down so as not to startle his animal brother and watched as the hawk glided over the water and came to its nest high up in a tree on the southern shore. He was able to tell by the ears that the hawk had caught a rabbit. Another hawk was there too, and had perched itself on the nest to be with its mate.
The two hawks began to eat the rabbit, tearing pieces of flesh and dropping them into the nest. Little Grey Bear Boy decided to go in for a closer look.
This was another sign from Kitchi Manitou, and Little Grey Be
ar Boy stayed for a time to watch the hawk family enjoying their meal. He drew out his medicine pouch and took out another wad of tobacco to give thanks for this second sign.
It was now late in the afternoon and Little Grey Bear Boy decided he would try to make up some ground before settling in for the night. He continued south until the light began to fail and managed to find a decent spot for his camp next to a smaller lake. It was quite dark by the time his tent was up. He had pushed himself hard to stay on the path Painted Turtle Man suggested and now he was too tired for a fire. He ate some smoked fish and drank some fresh, cool water from the lake.
He was too exhausted to think about much that evening and decided to save his strength for the third day of his vision quest. He could not help but think about Water Lily Woman as he settled into his tent for the night. He was perplexed about what to do about his feelings for her. How could something so pure create something evil…
That night he had a strange dream. All of the women in his life were walking in a single file. Their gait was slow and steady and too uniform to be natural. He saw his grandmother, his auntie, his mother, Water Lily Woman, the Eagle twins, and all of the matriarchs of Nisichawayasihk. At the very end of the row he saw his sister. They were walking with their hands clasped in front of their bodies.
He began to see, in fact, that their hands were tied together and they were being dragged on a rope, one woman linked to another. On approaching them, he saw their eyes had no colour, no pupil—just whites. He tried to speak to them but they ignored him. It was as though their bodies were no more than an empty shell without a spirit inside of them.
He could hear strange voices—men arguing or grumbling about something. He awoke with a start, just past sunrise. He could still hear the voices of the men from his dream. Quietly, he squirmed out of his tent and lowered the poles. He dragged himself on his stomach towards the sound, which came from the lakeshore. What he saw made his heart shudder against the cool ground.
Two warriors wearing plain, unadorned clothing unlike the style of the Nehiyawak were walking. Five women walked slowly in a row between them, just like the women in his dream. Their hair was unbraided, loose, and scraggly. Their clothing ragged and dirty. Without quillwork, the leather looked bare and wrong. Their hands were tied in front of their bodies and linked to one another on a rope. The two men held each end of the rope.
“I do not see why they all need to be used for the ceremony…” said the first man. “We spend all this time and effort to capture them. What would be the harm in saving one or two for ourselves?”
“I am not disagreeing with you,” grumbled the other man. “But who will be the one to ask Dark Cloud Man?”
“Not me, that is for certain. Maybe it should be you.”
“Motch! I’m no fool…”
Dark Cloud Man? Little Grey Bear Boy’s heart was pounding so hard he was worried they would hear it. He had to get a better look at what was going on. He crawled back to his campsite and picked up his medicine bundle and Flying Rabbit Boy’s bow and arrows. He would have to leave his tent, bedroll, and food satchel. He moved carefully, as though on the hunt, to stay out of their line of sight.
They followed a path along the lakeshore. The women’s gait was slow, steady, and unnaturally uniform, just like in the dream. Whenever they reached a place where some effort was needed to navigate the terrain, the men would push and pull them in whichever direction they wanted them to go. The women said nothing and went where they were forced.
Little Grey Bear Boy tried to get closer to see the women’s faces. He needed to know if they were scared, injured, or sick. He knew in his heart something was not right about the scene before him.
At that moment, the two men began to turn in his direction. Little Grey Bear Boy looked down to see he was standing on a worn path. With nowhere to step off between the cliff and the lakeshore, he was trapped. He forced himself to think and feel just as he had when he disappeared in front of Painted Turtle Man. Taking his cousin’s bow, he drew an arrow and aimed it at the lead man. He tried to find his breath.
As he was about to take the shot, he felt a vibration in the air. He looked down at his legs and saw they were no longer there.
“Maybe we could get one of the young ones to ask him,” said one of the men.
“Those young ones would not know what to do with a woman, even if he let us!”
The men and their strange women came up the path, arriving at the exact spot where Little Grey Bear Boy had stood only moments ago.
As they came close, he could see their eyelids were painted red. Their expressions were vacant. Soulless.
He followed them most of the day until they arrived at an encampment. Several tents sat around a large, circular lodge. He had never seen this sort of lodge before, though the style resembled the big lodge of the Trader’s people.
Little Grey Bear Boy watched as the men led the three women into the large circular building. Warriors were milling about the camp, shouting and cursing, pushing and slapping one another, all of them with their eyelids painted red. Little Grey Bear Boy drew as close to the camp as he dared.
A man emerged from the round lodge. “Gather around!” he ordered. “I have received our instructions from the Red-Eye.”
“WE SERVE THE RED-EYE!” chanted the followers.
“Dark Cloud Man commands we attack in three days.”
The men cheered and whooped.
“Will we be able to keep any of the women for ourselves?” asked one of the men.
“I did not ask him,” snapped the leader.
“It might be a good thing…” offered one of the younger men, grinning.
“I am sure when we are successful, there will be plenty of women for all of us. Dark Cloud Man tells me the Turtle lodge is overflowing with pretty young women.”
“YEEAAAYYY!” shouted the men.
Little Grey Bear Boy thought his heart was going to stop. It was his village they were talking about, he was sure of it. His vision quest was over. He had to get back at once and tell someone what he knew.
A crow landed on the top of the circular lodge and began cawing loudly. The leader looked up at it and nodded. “There is someone here!” he yelled. “Fan out and find him!”
It was time to run.
Little Grey Bear Boy moved to the south as fast as his feet could carry him. He would have to turn northeast to get back to Nisichawayasihk. He could hear men yelling behind him but also a barking and growling that did not sound like dogs, but something much worse. Something savage.
He continued south and had gone only a short distance when he ran right into a fast-flowing river. With the blood pounding in his head, he had not heard the rush of moving water. He waded in, looking for a shallow place to cross. The water pushed him hard along the current and everywhere he stepped seemed deeper and deeper.
Something came crashing out of the forest behind him. It was an abnormally large coyote, bigger than a bear. Its eyes were large and wild. Its tongue lolled, and foam dripped from its mouth. Soon three others joined it. They sniffed the ground this way and that, converging on the place where Little Grey Bear Boy had first entered the river. He had to get across. He dove hard into the water and swam as fast as he could. The river’s current pushed him along. He went above and below the surface and down river, but was still far from the other side.
The four coyotes, alerted by the splashing, barked and howled along the river bank. They whimpered and yelped whenever they were bumped into the water. Soon, several of the Red-Eyed warriors joined them, firing arrows at Little Grey Bear Boy in the river.
“Find a place to cross!” screamed the leader. The men began to wade into the river in both directions, looking for a place to cross, just as he had. Little Grey Bear Boy swam harder and harder and eventually rode the current to the other side, downstream. He pulled himself out and sta
ggered northeast, toward Nisichawayasihk, exhausted, soaking wet, and with a horrible cramp in his side.
Little Grey Bear Boy lumbered along as best he could. Hearing the howling of coyotes to the south, he realized they had found a way across the river. He picked up the pace, ignoring the pain in his side, but he was moving too slow. The barking and growling was getting closer. Soon, they were on his heels.
The bow was heavy. He drew an arrow with great effort. Is this where he would make his stand? Would the people learn of the attack only as they were being attacked? The coyotes reached him, but stopped short, looking at one another and then back at him. They bared their teeth and drooled. The fur on the back of their necks stood up straight. The largest of the four coyotes stepped towards Little Grey Bear Boy and spoke.
“You are a long way from home, Grey-Eye,” it growled.
“Stay back!” shouted Little Grey Bear Boy, pointing his arrow at them.
“You do not command me, pretender. I serve Dark Cloud Man.”
“WE SERVE THE RED-EYE!” shouted the others. The leader barked and leapt towards Little Grey Bear Boy. The boy loosed an arrow and it sank deep into the coyote’s shoulder. The coyote yelped and fell over. When it got to its feet and pulled the arrow out with its teeth, Little Grey Bear Boy turned and ran. The other coyotes rushed to their leader, sniffing and licking at him.
As he ran, the boy drew his turtle shell rattle and tried to think of a song that would help him. The fire chant and the water chant were of no use—there was neither fire nor water nearby now. He looked at the dirt and rock beneath his feet as he was running and decided to sing a song dedicated to Mother Earth. Perhaps she could help him.
As the coyotes snapped at his back with their fangs, the earth beneath them rose up. Pillars of dirt and large rocks burst forth from the ground and blocked their path. One of the coyotes ran right into a large boulder and yelped. Another coyote was pitched high into the air and knocked over a tree as he came crashing down. Still, they continued their pursuit, dodging the pillars of earth and trying to gain on the boy.