Totem Lost

by James Hadman

  “You’ll help me then?”

  “I can help if you’re serious about following the spirit way. I am getting old and have wondered who would take my spirits, my Yek, when it is my turn to pass into the spirit world.” She smiled. “And here you are. With your father’s spirits and mine as well, you’ll be very powerful indeed. You and your mother and your little family are welcome to stay here with me while you learn the ways of the spirit world.”

  “I’m serious, Auntie and I will work hard, but right now I need a snug place where Arrow can nurse her babies.”

  “That’s no problem. You can have them with you right up there, where the slaves have set up your sleeping area. Think about this for a moment. You had your dog with you, she is nursing puppies, and you discovered this tiny thing that would have perished without her milk.” She petted the baby again. “Your Arrow accepted the orphan otter as her own. No accident here–I see the mark of the spirit world all over this encounter.”

  While we talked, Arrow sat patiently in front of me, keeping an eye on her babies who were beginning to fuss. “I really need to let them nurse,” I said, turning to Elena and asking which sleeping area was mine.

  “I’ll take you there,” she said, and Arrow and I followed her up to a cozy chamber. She and Olga had done a good job. All my boxes, including my precious journals, were neatly arranged. Arrow’s bed was ready and I settled her and the babies in it. The way they attacked her teats, you’d think they hadn’t eaten for days. Arrow rolled each pup around licking it clean while it squeaked in protest. I watched my little otter kneading and sucking. “What a good eater you are my little Kushdaka,” I whispered. “Grow up big and strong, so you can help me find my way.”

  I headed back down to the fire, but before I reached there I heard Sky Shaker say, “Welcome home, Wind Spirit. I’ve missed you.” Taking Mother’s hands, she continued. “I have always hoped that someday you would return and live with me again. You’re Haida and we are your people.”

  Mother didn’t answer and I knew why. She had so many ties to Klawak–her sons and their families, Seal Killer and Cedar Weaver, even Park and his wife, Aneeka, who had been her midwife. These friends and relatives couldn’t be casually cast aside. After a long moment, I saw her nod.

  “I’ll stay while you train Abraham’s Copper Spirit. I can use the time to look at the men you suggested as possible mates for my daughter, but I’m anxious to host a potlatch in memory of my husband and I will need to go back to Klawak to help Seal Killer organize that.” Beyond her plans for me, there was a message behind her spoken words and Sky Shaker looked at her and smiled.

  “I understand,” she said. “You have many friends there. Stay here as long as you like.”

  When they caught sight of me, their conversation lapsed awkwardly, a sure sign that I had been their subject.

  “So, have you got me married off yet, Mother?” I smiled, but my voice had a none-too-subtle edge to it as I asked my question. This ground, covered so many times before, was so predictable. Wind Spirit must have asked and Sky Shaker must have told her about the marriageable males in Howkan. Rather than ignore the issue, which was what I usually did, I decided to face it head-on. I had a mission. My spirit quest would keep me from having to deal with this marriage nonsense.

  Mother brightened now that her favourite topic was out in the open and when she spoke, I knew I’d been right.

  “Sky Shaker tells me that Sea Beaver’s nephew, Killer Whale Rider, is close to your age and he hasn’t married yet either. How lucky we’ve come to Howkan. I’ll arrange for you two to meet.” Her voice trailed off as she searched my face, not finding encouragement. “He sounds like a good match for you,” she said wistfully, and then couldn’t resist adding. “You’re not getting any younger, you know.”

  “Mother, I will be far too busy for this distraction. I have so much to learn.” I looked toward Sky Shaker for support, but the wise old woman was rocking slowly with her eyes closed and showed no inclination to take sides.

  “You’ll be meeting him soon anyway,” Mother said. “Sky Shaker says Sea Beaver has sent word. He has invited us to a feast tomorrow.”

  Sky Shaker opened her eyes and said, “Killer Whale Rider is a very handsome boy.”

  What was this? Was my aunt testing me to find out how serious I was about becoming a shaman? She didn’t know about my legacy letter yet. After I shared that with her, I doubted I’d have to worry about Mother’s efforts to find me a mate. Sky Shaker would be determined to help me become a shaman and we’d have no time for matchmaking.

  “Well, if he’s at the feast,” I said, hoping I was projecting an air of total disinterest. “I suppose I’ll meet him.”

  Mother beamed at me. “That’s more like it, Daughter. You have no idea what great happiness a good husband can bring you. Watching you being so tender and maternal with those puppies and that damned otter frustrates me. I want you to have babies of your own.” She turned to Sky Shaker and continued. “I’ve lost count of the number of men from fine families this girl has turned down. This can’t go on much longer.” She looked at me with her Mother-knows-best face. “When your moon-times dry up, it’ll be too late. You will be too old to have children.”

  “Mother, I’m barely twenty summers and already you have me beating bark with the old women. You were more than thirty summers old when you had me. I have plenty of time. We’ve come to Howkan, so I can become a shaman, not to find me a husband.”

  “You will be a fine shaman,” Sky Shaker said, interrupting our bickering. “Perhaps the time will come when you can have your calling and a family, too.”

  “When can we begin my training, Auntie?” I asked, ignoring her comment about family.

  “We’ll start in the morning. I have a plan for introducing you at the feast tomorrow. Now I must go to my bed.” With the aid of her cane and a slave woman, she limped across the cedar platform toward her sleeping area. Mother left a moment later.

  I was alone and looking forward to my solitude. I wanted to write in my journal before I went to sleep. I got my writing things from my sleeping area and made sure Arrow was settled down with her family before going back down to the fire. I found a comfortable spot, took out my ink and quill and wrote. I told about our trip, finding the baby otter, the trouble with the nephews, and our welcome here in Howkan. When I finished, I stowed my writing kit and realized how tired I was. I would begin training tomorrow, and I needed rest to be ready. I put myself to bed and fell asleep immediately.

  Chapter Four

  March 25, 1778: I awoke to find fingers of wan daylight reaching down through the smoke-hole. As I dressed, I could hear Mother’s voice and scolded myself for sleeping so late. I checked on Arrow and the babies and all were fine. I took a moment to lean down and stroke the baby otter’s round little tummy. She’d definitely grown and the puppies’ eyes were nearly fully open. They would be playing together soon.

  Arrow followed me down to the fire where we found Sky Shaker sitting alone sipping tea. I fed the dog some fish and asked, “Where’s Mother? I thought I heard her voice.”

  “You did. She left to find old friends and say hello.” She leaned closer, her gnarled hands clasping the head of her cane.

  “Actually, she went to find out the latest gossip. She’s got plenty to catch up on, so I imagine she’ll be gone awhile. There’s fresh halibut,” she said. “Sit down and we’ll talk while you eat.” She passed me a small bowl and ladle. “Here, try this,” she said. “This is special hooligan oil. It comes from the Nass River, the best in the country they say.”

  I put a generous ladle of it on my fish and tasted it. It was good. I smiled and said, “Whoever claimed it is the best is right. It’s certainly the best I’ve ever tasted, Auntie.”

  “I’m glad you enjoy it. Before we get started on your training, tell me what you expect from me.”

  “I�
��ve told you that my father’s spirits came to me and ordered me to become a shaman. What I didn’t tell you was he also wrote me what he called a legacy letter and entrusted it to Mother to be given to me after his death. Three days after Father died, when his Kushdaka spirit appeared to me, it told me to ask Mother for my ‘legacy’. When I did, she was stunned that I knew about it. I can’t help wondering if she would have given it to me at all if the spirit hadn’t told me she had it. As you know, she’s never approved of me learning to read and write. She blames those skills for me not being married.”

  “You’re right. She’s told me that same thing. Why don’t you tell me more about this writing you do. I’ve known about your father doing it for years, but I’ve never gotten a clear picture of why this skill was so important to him and now you.”

  “My father used writing to keep what he called a journal. In it he described the many events that happened during the forty summers he lived here. To master this skill, a person must first learn letters and use them to create words and assemble those to describe the things we say and do. He taught me those skills and after his death. I’ve begun keeping my own journal.” I had to stop and wipe away a tear. “The most powerful thing about writing is that once a piece of information is written, anyone who has been trained can read the words and understand what it says.”

  “So, you could write about something that happened here and send it down to Sea Lion Town where someone who knows how to read could understand what you’ve written.”

  “That’s correct.”

  “What makes that better than sending word with a messenger?”

  “Messengers don’t always get the facts straight, Auntie. They get distracted or forget details and the message gets twisted. Father told me that many whitefaces can read and write. They communicate exact details even when they are far apart. Reading my legacy letter was like having Father speaking to me from the spirit world.”

  “That’s an interesting idea. I would like to have you tell me what he says in that letter.”

  “I can do better than that. I will read Father’s letter so you can hear his exact words. I’ll go and get it from my sleeping area.” When I got back, I said, “This letter is big medicine. You’ll understand just how big after you hear what he has written.” I sat down and read the letter, skipping the false beginning.

  When I finished, Sky Shaker was silent for a long moment, before shaking her head as if clearing her thoughts. “I think I have a better understanding of the power of this writing skill. Hearing what he says in that letter scares me. It’s much more convincing than a messenger. I think you’re right. Copper Hair has spoken to you from the spirit world. Not only has he warned us of great danger, he has also given us a plan to repel these invaders. I can feel his presence right here with us.”

  I nodded and she continued. “He says you are the best person to warn our people about the whiteface weapons. Have you seen these things he describes?”

  “The only one living who has seen them is Seal Killer. The letter specifically mentions that he can vouch for the power of the weapons. I went to him and asked about them. He told me that he and Father fired these things and what Father writes is true. He says the weapons are very noisy and very destructive—big medicine.

  “I didn’t read this letter to him because I don’t want to disrupt his life. Even though he is an old man, if he knew what Copper Hair was warning us about, he would feel it was his duty to go traveling around the country to warn people. I want him to stay in Klawak and enjoy his peaceful life.”

  “Your father is correct when he says you’ll need to enhance your status. Becoming a shaman is the only way I know for a woman to accomplish this. Men may not like it, but they will listen when a female shaman speaks.”

  “Then you’ll help me?”

  She nodded. “The future your father paints is bleak. You will have to work hard to become a shaman and I will help you. Together we’ll make your name recognized, respected, and feared throughout the land. Only then will you be able to convince people of the danger we all face.”

  “Let’s begin, Auntie.”

  “I have a plan,” she said. “We’ll begin by introducing you at the feast tonight. To do that properly, we’ll dress you like the shaman you will become.” She got up and limped off toward her sleeping area, motioning for a slave woman to follow her. Sky Shaker returned with an apron and a tunic draped over her arm. A slave carrying a rather large box followed and placed it beside us.

  “Stand up,” she ordered. She looked me up and down and continued. “My, you certainly are a tall one. That’s good. We can take advantage of that. These things belonged to the uncle who taught me. He was pretty tall, so they should work. Let’s see how they look on you.” She tied a sealskin apron with four strips of shell embroidery attached around my waist. Dangling from its lower edge were dozens of puffin bills that rustled and clacked together every time I moved.

  “Now, take off your skirt.” I was surprised but did as told. “You must be naked under the apron when you dance.”

  I had seen shamans perform all my life, but it never dawned on me that they weren’t wearing anything under their aprons. Now that I thought about it, I did remember bare backsides. The price of becoming a shaman had just soared. It seemed I would be required to show my private parts to an audience. Could I do that?

  Sky Shaker saw my confusion and said, “I have leggings that go with that costume.” She signaled her slave to come and help slip them onto my bare legs and fasten them in place. When she stepped back, I looked down. The leggings didn’t conceal anything. I was definitely naked!

  Sky Shaker surveyed the result and said, “Not bad. I can see you’re uncomfortable with exposing yourself, but giving people, both men and women, a glimpse of your body during your performance is a powerful technique. Always remember that a bit of exposure will excite and divert your audience so that while their attention is on your body, you’ll have an opportunity to create illusions that will dazzle them.”

  Raven’s Bones! Now she was telling me that fooling my audience was an important part of being a shaman. I certainly hadn’t expected this. What next?

  “Now the tunic,” she said, holding up a garment that was decorated with the head of a thunderbird in red across its short front and dark wings on the back. Laces held the front and back together but left both sides wide open. She motioned for me to bend down and then slipped the tunic over my head. The back panel ended in a forked tail that at least covered my bottom. That wasn’t much help. My costume still revealed too much.

  “The thunderbird isn’t one of my crest animals, Auntie,” I protested, hoping she might make a change.

  Sky Shaker smiled. “I know and that doesn’t matter. This is exactly the effect I want. When you give them a glimpse of tit, men can’t resist a fine-looking woman such as yourself. It’s stupid––they’re surrounded by bare breasts every day––but when they’re partially concealed...” She made a crude gesture and I was taken aback. I was beginning to realize how much my father had sheltered me.

  I stood there feeling thoroughly uncomfortable while she continued to paw through her box. She was muttering as she pulled out a bulky object wrapped in a sea otter pelt. Holding it in both hands, she looked up at me and grinned. “Perfect,” she said. “This will really take advantage of your startling height.” When she unwrapped the bundle, an amazing piece of work made me gasp.

  “I have always loved this piece,” Sky Shaker said, “but I’m too short to do it justice. As tall as you are, it will be stunning.” Stunned more accurately described how I felt.

  “Look,” she said and I did. “The forehead medallion is the killer whale. How fitting for you. See how the eight tentacles of the devilfish stand tall above the body of the crown and writhe in the air. Eight is a magic number for shamans. This is big medicine. In this one piece, you have the devilfish, the mas
cot of all shamans, and the killer whale, your inherited crest.”

  I bent down and the slave woman settled it on my head. She stepped back and I shuddered. Having this headdress on my head reinforced the gravity of my decision. It was the embodiment of shamanic power. “How many shamans have worn this piece, Auntie?”

  “I know of at least three, but I wouldn’t be surprised if there were more. That headdress contains much power, but you will have to work hard to master it. I will teach you many skills, such as entering a spirit trance at will and, more importantly, how to return. You will learn what spirit to select for a particular ceremony and how to conjure up images in smoke.” She stepped back and inspected me.

  “You look pretty good, but we’ll have to do something about your hair before the feast. No female shaman would go around looking like that. We want a hairdo that will dance when you do. Like this.” She shook her head, setting her many small braids in motion, so they flew about her face. “After we’ve tried on the rest of the costume, I’ll have Lina, the last of my assistants, fix your hair, so it dances along with you. Now, let’s add some more power.”

  She reached into her chest and lifted out a long necklace of carved charms. “These represent many of the animal spirits you will come to rely upon.” I leaned down and she draped it over my head being careful not to tangle it in the headdress.

  “The charms are carved from parts of the animals they portray. For instance, this bear is made from the bone of that animal, that killer whale is from an actual tooth.” She reached into the chest again and pulled out a handful of earrings. “I see you already have several holes in your ears. That’s good, but you will need more. Here. Put these on.”