by James Hadman
Why was it alone? Otters traveled in groups. Where were the others? Could this solitary otter be the omen I had been waiting for? Was she coming to bring me my missing songs? The otter surfaced again, much closer now, and she had a squirming fish in her jaws. She swam to shore and carried her prize out of the water.
This was my moment and I must seize it. Slowly, I took out my spirit axe, carefully raised it and pointed it at the otter. She dropped her fish and stood tall, balanced on her muscular tail. Our eyes locked as I held my spirit axe steady and the three missing power songs flowed to me. When I began singing my new songs, my otter spirit whistled once and slipped back into the water. Her task was now complete.
My exhaustion vanished. I hurried down to the water’s edge to examine the fish she had left behind. It was a small fish, a sculpin. Even though she had bitten it, she had left the fish’s spirit behind. I touched its nostril and the little fish raised its horns. I touched its head with my spirit axe and four more power songs flowed to me. Sculpin’s spirit was now mine.
My roster of four spirits was complete. I now possessed spirits of the land, sea, and sky. My otter spirit would guide me as I learned to seek the other spirits’ help to find my way in the spirit world.
With my sculpin in one hand, Killer Whale Rider’s lovely otter staff in the other, and Pearl Shell Woman’s beautiful bag over my shoulder, I waded through the snow on my way back to camp. I had just caught sight of the brightly burning fire and could smell boiling halibut when I stumbled. Killer Whale Rider saw me fall and he jumped to his feet and helped me into our shelter. All I could think of was how hungry I was.
While Pearl Shell Woman was brushing the snow from me, I shouted. “I have the missing songs.”
I held up the grimacing bullhead by its lower jaw. “Not only did the otter give me my missing songs, she also gave me another spirit–sculpin–and her songs as well.”
My helpers looked at one another and laughed as I handed sculpin to Pearl Shell Woman. “When you find spirits, you go all out, Shaman,” Killer Whale Rider said, giving me a steaming bowl of halibut. I burned my mouth trying to wolf down my first solid food in seven days. After a bite or two, I slowed down and savored each morsel. Much too soon, I was full but my bowl wasn’t empty.
Killer Whale Rider noticed my look of frustration and laughed. “Your poor stomach has shrunk,” he said. “Don’t worry. We have plenty of fish, so we can feed you small meals all day. You’ll be back to normal by this time tomorrow.”
“If you keep on acquiring spirits at this rate, we’ll have to find you another assistant just to carry your costumes and masks,” Pearl Shell Woman said. “Now that you’ve eaten, let’s cut sculpin’s tongue. I’ve got the devil’s-club stems right here.”
She handed me the knife and I split the fish’s tongue. We put it between pieces of devil’s-club, tied it, and tucked it into my medicine box with the other tongues.
“I think I’m ready for some more of that halibut,” I said and Killer Whale Rider laughed as he dipped up another bowl
“Let’s stay here until the snow quits,” Pearl Shell Woman said. “You can teach us the new songs and we’ll work on your costumes.” I felt quite content, but I was also very drowsy.
“I’ll take a little nap and then we’ll sing the songs,” I said, unrolling my sleeping robe. Moments later I was asleep.
When I awoke, already feeling stronger, Pearl Shell Woman gave me another bowl of halibut. I savored the fish while I enjoyed a feeling of accomplishment. I had achieved the hardest part of my shaman’s quest. I was content to watch the falling snow and recuperate before returning to the village.
We spent the afternoon singing my new songs. The otter songs were somewhat disturbing but powerful. The sculpin songs, on the other hand, were light and airy, almost like a child would sing. We had fun with them. Toward evening the snow quit and we even had a few moments of sunshine before sunset. The once intimidating lagoon with its shaman grave houses almost seemed friendly in the fading light. Our little camp was quite comfortable and my excellent helpers had taken very good care of me.
For our farewell dinner, Pearl Shell Woman roasted a big chunk of halibut. Killer Whale Rider had dug a basket of fat butter clams and he roasted them until they popped open. They were delicious. After that fine meal I fell into bed and slept.
I awoke with a start in the deep black of a moonless night. My heart was pounding. The soaring dream had come again–the first time since I’d received my eagle spirit. Now, the power of the spirit bird was mine and my strong wings felt like they belonged to me. As I wheeled and dived I wondered if my eagle spirit was strong enough to protect me from the attack I feared was inevitable. Just as before, I was gliding low above their strange canoe. The black-coated, yellow-haired whiteface stood up and pointed his fire-stick at me, but this time he was looking up at me. With my eagle vision, I could see his face plainly. It was covered with yellow hair and his eyes were blue. This was no man. This was a demon. My eagle spirit couldn’t protect me from the demon’s power and even as I tumbled from the sky, I knew I could recognize the monster in an instant if I ever came face to face with it.
As before, I was rescued from my dream before I hit the ground by my sudden awakening. After my breathing and heartbeat gradually returned to normal, I dozed and when I next awoke it was to the smell of roasting salmon. Usually, by this time of year, I was tired of dried salmon, but this smelled wonderful. I rolled out of bed to greet a glistening white world with a sense of anticipation. I’d need practice and help from Sky Shaker and my assistants to become an accomplished shaman, but now that I had my spirit animals, I was confident I could make it happen.
Apr. 5, 1778: After finishing our meal, we packed our belongings aboard the canoe. Like a sled, we pushed our craft across the snow-covered beach. When we reached exposed gravel, we carried it to the water’s edge and launched it. As we paddled out past the guardian grave houses, I was only too glad to make offerings to those dead shamans who had made this place so special. I looked back into the cove where my spirits had come to me and bid farewell to my drift log, now buried deep in snow.
We landed back in snow-covered Howkan at midday. My helpers carried our boxes up to Sky Shaker’s house. She and Mother were bundled up and seated near the fire. Both women brightened as they saw us come through the door.
“Welcome back, Daughter,” said Mother cheerily, “or must I call you ‘Shaman’ now?” She exchanged glances with my aunt.
“Did your otter spirit come to you?” Sky Shaker asked.
“Everything went very well.” I couldn’t seem to quit grinning. “Things went so well, Auntie, that I now have four spirits.”
“I knew you could do it, Shaman,” Sky Shaker said. “I never doubted your abilities. All you need now is practice in communicating with your new spirits.” She patted the cedar-plank floor next to her and said, “Come. Sit down and tell us all about it.”
“How’s my little Kushdaka girl?” I asked.
“She’s fine. She and those greedy puppies must be nursing or they’d be underfoot.”
I smiled. “I’ll be right back.” I walked back to my sleeping area, and as I drew close I heard the sounds of commotion. I looked in and broke into laughter. The puppies and the little otter were rolling around on the floor while Arrow sat like a benign babysitter watching them chew on each other as they tumbled about. The elongated body of the otter wound around the other pups like a brown scarf as they wrestled. I reached down and disentangled the otter who hissed and whistled in protest. She began squirming like a furry eel as she tried to rejoin the rough house that was going on without her. Her little nose twitched and she stopped struggling when she caught my scent, and then her bright black eyes searched my face.
“Are you happy little Kushdaka?” I asked unnecessarily. She was obviously thriving on dog milk and enjoying playing with the pups. I held h
er close to my cheek and she nuzzled my neck, making little contented noises as she tried to nurse my tender neck. I felt ever so maternal.
I carried the otter who had fallen asleep in my arms back to the fire. Pearl Shell Woman and Killer Whale Rider were eating roasted salmon and offered me some. Before I could take a bite, Kushdaka awoke and showed immediate interest in the salmon snack. I broke off a small piece and held it for her. She mouthed it tentatively at first, but when she got the taste, she clutched the morsel in her front paws and using her needle-sharp baby teeth, tore it apart and ate with gusto. She finished and looked around for more. I gave her another bite.
Sky Shaker laughed, then leaned over and petted my Kushdaka. “She will be a good animal to accompany you. People are so afraid of otters that when they see the two of you together they will assume you’re a great and powerful shaman. I’ve noticed we’re both referring to the otter as she. Can you tell whether your Kushdaka is a boy or a girl?”
“Not yet. I’ve tried to figure that out, but I can’t tell. Since you told me the best spirits for a female shaman are female, I’ve decided that she’s going to be a girl unless I find out differently.”
“That’s sensible. Turn her over. Maybe I can tell.”
She growled her displeasure when I interrupted her snack. I gave it back to her, turned her over, and she was content to lie in my arms and let Sky Shaker inspect her belly.
“I see what you mean,” she said. “I can’t tell either. As far as I’m concerned, your Kushdaka is a girl.”
“When we asked Killer Whale Rider about your spirit quest,” Mother said, “he told us a little, but he wanted us to hear the whole story from you.”
“The most important thing was that I finally received the three missing songs from my otter spirit. Remember? They were the ones I failed to get when I found the dead otter.”
Mother shivered and said, “I remember that event only too well. I’m glad you got your missing songs, but I’m anxious to hear how you did that.”
I had begun to tell her when Lina approached. When Sky Shaker looked up and nodded, she said, “A messenger has come from Sea Beaver. He learned that Abraham’s Copper Spirit has returned and he hopes she will be able to help.”
I looked at Sky Shaker. “Do you know what this is about?”
“His youngest daughter, she’s only three summers old, has fallen ill,” she said. “Bear Claw gave her cold baths and danced a healing dance, but that didn’t help. Then I gave the child special medicines and a devil’s club tonic. Lina performed a special dance, but the poor thing is getting worse.”
When she told me this, my first instinct was to help, but what if I failed and the girl died? That would be a tragedy for her and me.
“Even if you don’t cure the child, failure won’t harm your reputation,” Mother said. “Two experienced shamans have already tried and failed.”
“That’s a big problem,” I said. “If Sky Shaker and Bear Claw couldn’t help her, I don’t think I have much of a chance. If by some stroke of luck, I do succeed, I don’t think Bear Claw will approve.”
“Spirits are unpredictable,” Sky Shaker said. “If the spirit you summon sees the problem, the child will live. If not, she will die.”
Why must these decisions be so difficult? The soaring dream Bear Claw inflicted on me proved he was not a friend of mine. I didn’t want to antagonize him further, but I couldn’t just let the child die.
“What do you think I should do, Sky Shaker?”
“The evil spirit making her sick has a strong grip on her. I even had her poor little spirit in my soul-catcher, but the evil spirit wrenched it from me before I could identify which one is possessing her. Perhaps you will be more successful.”
“So, you think I should attempt to heal her?”
“I do. As your mother said, I don’t think it will hurt for you to try. If you fail, people will blame your lack of experience, but if you succeed,...” she paused, “you’ll gain great prestige. Of course, Bear Claw, already a dangerous enemy, will be humiliated if the girl is healed by you.”
“He doesn’t worry me,” I said. “So far, the worst he’s done is to give me bad dreams. I’ve made my decision. I can’t let the little girl die without trying to save her.”
“I’ll go over and tell them you’re willing to try,” Mother said.
“Be careful not to make promises,” Sky Shaker warned. “Just tell them Abraham’s Copper Spirit will do her best.”
Mother got up and headed for the door, but Sky Shaker stopped her. “Since you’re taking on the job of your daughter’s assistant, you must do as I taught you long ago and ask a good price for her services.”
“What do you consider a good price?’ Mother asked, looking puzzled. “My daughter is untried as a shaman. How much could her efforts be worth?”
“The parents may say those same things. You must remind them of the great risk a shaman takes when she attempts to capture the evil spirit that infests their child. Also point out how empty their house will be if she dies. They dote on the girl–Sea Beaver’s wife was already talking about who she wants the girl to marry.”
Mother stood silent for a moment. Clearly she wasn’t happy to find herself in the role of negotiator, but she had volunteered. “I’ll do the best I can. Abraham’s Copper Spirit needs all the help she can get to increase her status.” Sky Shaker’s affirming nod was enough. Mother turned and left.
“Those parents are desperate, so I think they will hire you. You and your helpers better start getting ready. Have you decided which of your spirits you will call on to help you?”
“When my otter spirit brought me sculpin, I was mystified, but now I see her purpose. I will seek help from my littlest spirit.”
Sky Shaker was silent, lost in her thoughts, then in a low voice, almost as if talking to herself, she said, “What a brilliant choice! A small spirit for a small girl. Why didn’t I think of that?” She looked up at me with new respect. “I think you will do well in this healing, Abraham’s Copper Spirit.”
Until now my assistants had been silent. They exchanged glances. “We haven’t had time to finish your sculpin costume yet,” Pearl Shell Woman said.
“What do you have?” Sky Shaker asked.
“I’ve nearly finished the dance apron, but it lacks fringes and rattles.”
“I have extra aprons. We can borrow from them to complete the costume,” Sky Shaker said and dispatched an ancient slave to get the fringes. Making exaggerated motions of hurrying, the old woman limped across the room.
“Do you have an appropriate mask?” Sky Shaker asked. Killer Whale Rider opened my shaman’s box and took out a parcel. He unwrapped it and showed us a mask carved from yellow cedar. The face was human, but where its ears would have been were sculpin’s horns. Hundreds of tiny scales were carved onto the surface of the mask.
“When did you have time to make this beautiful thing?” I asked.
“While we were camped out. I had already roughed out the basic features of what was to be your otter mask. Then you came back with sculpin and my plan changed. I worked on the sculpin mask all night while you were sleeping. I wasn’t the only one who stayed up that night. While I was carving, Pearl Shell Woman worked on your costume. Show them the apron you’ve made,” he said to her.
She unrolled a bundle that contained a tawny doeskin apron and held it up for our scrutiny. Sculpin, with her broad head, wide mouth, and gill-plate horns, was painted in red across the front of the garment.
“That’s good work,” my aunt said, nodding her head. “Did you do the design?”
“No, Shaman. Killer Whale Rider is our designer.”
“You’ve both done very well. The designs and workmanship you’ve shown me are excellent.” She motioned to the old slave who had returned with several aprons draped over her arm. Sky Shaker took one from her. “Take
the fringes off this one. It belonged to my uncle and I never received the spirit it portrays.” Pearl Shell Woman took the old apron and efficiently separated the fringes and puffin beaks from it.
“She has the sculpin mask, the moon rattle, and her otter baton,” Sky Shaker said, “so when the apron is finished, Abraham’s Copper Spirit will be ready to go and heal the girl.”
Mother returned carrying a sizable bundle. After brushing snow from her cloak, she said, “They are so grateful that you have offered to help. Sadly, Sea Beaver has lost hope. His wife was beginning to lay out the funeral things. So, here is what I negotiated for your first healing ceremony.” She opened her bundle and shook out a glossy sea-otter cloak. Then she held up shell jewelry, shiny black-stone carvings and two oil ladles made from sheep’s horn. She even had a box full of little cakes of dried berries, a special treat at this time of year.
“I wish I’d sent you when I tried to cure the girl,” Sky Shaker said. “Lina didn’t do half that well.”
“You must hurry,” Mother said. “The little girl is very weak.”
“My apron is nearly finished,” I said. “Go tell them that everyone except the mother and father must leave the house.” I looked at Sky Shaker. “I’d like you to come along and give advice if I need it.”
“I’ll be happy to help you sing your power songs, but you won’t need me to advise you. When your spirit comes, you’ll know exactly what to do.”
While Pearl Shell Woman finished attaching the fringes, Killer Whale Rider painted my face and we practiced my sculpin songs. Sky Shaker found appropriate charms and earrings. The final item, save for the apron, was the devil-fish headdress. When it was in place, Pearl Shell Woman fastened the apron about my waist and I was ready. The only problem was that I had no idea how to heal the child.