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RIDES BENEATH THE
HAWK.
The shimmering sun hung low on the horizon, the evening sky turning blood
red as the power of the bright yellow circle slowly diminished before the
onslaught of the onrushing darkness of the night. The slight movement across the
land was almost lost to the grey eyes and long snout of the old four footer who
had been following the scent for most of the long hot sultry day that was,
thankfully now coming to its end. The wolf’s long pointed ears pricked up and
the black spots within the center of his grey eyes narrowed as he focused his
whole attention upon the telltale sign that something might moving within the
thick brush below the steep hill upon which he now stood. A lifetime of
experience told him that the animal he had been carefully following had chosen
to make the security of the brush its home for the duration of the fast
descending night.
Before
beginning the descent down the steep slope the grey wolf checked instinctively
the direction of the wind. He found that it was in fact blowing from the south,
across his path and away from the brush. This was how he wanted it to be, a
lifetime of protecting his presence from his prey were still as keen as ever,
and the old wolf did not want to give himself away to the animal that for some
reason, and because of some irresistible force pulling at him, was drawing him
ever onwards.
He moved slowly down to the foot of the hill. He moved with caution and
with purpose, for it did no good to rush such a delicate task as the one before
him. When he stood upon level ground again the wolf turned his long grey pointed
snout towards the darkening sky above and again drew a vast quantity of cool
night air deep into his powerful chest and lungs.
He now detected a scent that immediately made his mind somewhat
confused. For he had detected the smell
of blood upon the evening breeze. But
how could this be? His mind questioned. Then a spasm caught him in its terrible
grip, slowly his long pink tongue flopped out of the side of his mouth, resting
across long yellow pointed teeth, as droplets of saliva dripped down onto the
grass beneath his thick padded paws. His old heart raced and he fought the urge
to lay down and rest awhile. When he reached the outer edges of the thick brush
he heard the faintest of noises coming from within.
The sound was like that of a soft whimper. Something like a newborn cub
would make as it tried to find its mother’s teat. Cautiously the wolf moved
forward, still being pulled by the invisible force that he was unable to resist.
Carefully he placed one paw down before the other upon the now cold
ground, each time testing the ground underfoot before placing his full weight
down upon it. The cub like noise again broke the still night air but this time
the noise did not alarmed the old four footer because an inner feeling of calm
had suddenly descended upon him. The pervading darkness of the night was like a
true friend to the wolf, but it was not this that had given him the comfort that
he now felt, the calmness had to do with the thought that he now knew the reason
for his being there. His eyesight, much impaired by the passage of time, could
not take in fully the sight that now befell him.
Within the darkening folds of brush he could just make out a clearing up
ahead. He paused and stared beyond the brush that now surrounded him, trying
hard to make out what was there. A fleeting movement made his heart beat a
little faster. Boldly he then stepped out into the clearing and his dimming eyes
took in the sight of the animal that had been drawing him onwards throughout the
long hot day. Laid out upon the ground before him was a woman and her new born.
The woman was cutting through the cord that still attached her to the
blood stained body of the child that she had just delivered into the world. When
she had completed this task she placed the knife down upon the ground and
started the important task of knotting the cord.
As she did this the child whimpered for the third time since his birth.
Suddenly fearful that the noise might be carried away upon the wind the mother
quickly raised the child up to her breast and guided his hungry mouth to her
nipple. As the small mouth closed upon it a strange, yet wildly exotic,
sensation rushed through the mother’s body as the baby’s lips begun to
suckle. The aching pains of childbirth that still racked her belly suddenly
became lifted from her.
Her energies were all but spent because of the hardship and the duration
of the labour. The mother started to lower herself to the ground in a bid to
obtain some much needed rest as she cradled her child in her arms. She was
almost flat down upon the long grass when the moon broke through the thin
covering of cloud above. The full face of the moon sent a thin silvery column of
light down upon the clearing.
The mother’s eyes grew wide with terror as she took in the sight of
the large male wolf sitting across from her. She could see that he was watching
her child feed. Like most cubs the wolf could see that the new born was
desperate for food. The woman wandered whether the wolf was waiting for the
right moment to attack her, even though she had never known a wolf to do such a
thing, but she was fearful for her child’s safety.
“Hello my
brother.” She said in a low yet firm voice as she slowly raised her body up
again. “Have you come here to greet me or to hunt me?”
“I have come to greet you.” The wolf replied. “Until now I did not
know what was drawing me here, but now I think I do, my life is at its end and
yet this one is just beginning. It pleases me to know that through him my spirit
may continue to live.”
“Would you
like to see him?” The mother suddenly and unexpectedly offered.
“I would.” The wolf said moving across to where the woman lay.
“Is he not
the greatest of all the Great Spirit creations?” The mother asked with love
and happiness filling her heart.
“I see great things befalling this child.” The old wolf said looking
down upon the child’s face. “And all your kind will know of him.”
“I hope
so.” The mother sighed and then smiled across at the four footer. “Just as
the deeds of your own kind are known to us.”
“Now it is time for me to go.” The old wolf said turning as if to
leave.
“But where
will you go?” The mother asked.
“Somewhere where I can lay these weary bones down and sleep for a very
long time.” He replied.
“Sometimes
it is not good to die alone.” The mother said fighting back her tears. “Come
and rest beside me and let us talk some more this night.” She urged.
Unable to resist the temptation of her offer the wolf moved closer. The
silver light of the moon reflected in his old grey eyes, and he lay down beside
the mother and her small bundle. When he closed his eyes he felt the soft caress
of her hand upon his back. It felt good and seemed to smooth away all the aches
and pains that he had been feeling of recent times.
“You have
brought me great comfort sister. In exchange I want you to take my fur when I
have need of it no more and give it to your child.” He sighed as the life
force left his body.
“May the Great Spirit guide you on your last journey home my
brother.” The mother said with a hint of sadness in her voice.
When the woman
felt the last breath leave the body of the wolf she laid her weary head down
upon the ground and closed her eyes. As she wavered between the comforting
worlds of dreams and realities the spirit of the wolf rose up out of the now
lifeless body. The spirit then looked down at the sleeping body of the woman and
her child still heartily suckling his mother’s milk.
“Feed well my little brother.” The spirit of the wolf said. “For
hunger can be the death of you. Now I must go and join my brothers for they are
calling me to join the pack once more. Your mother is a brave woman. The Great
Spirit has truly blessed you, so take heed in what she has to teach you. In
remembrance of her kindness towards me this day I now pledge my spirit to you.
Whenever you have need of me all you have to do is seek me out and I shall come
to you. So for now I will say good-bye my little brother.
As the mother slept and the child suckled the spirit of the wolf rose
high into the cold night air where he was met by Wakan Tanka who now greeted him
into the spirit world. Together they watched for a moment the tender sight
below. Suddenly, in a last gesture of farewell to his beloved lands below, the
air became filled with the sound of the wolf as he cried out his haunting
melody. It had been heard since the time when the first human beings walked
across this vast continent. For it had been the home of the grey wolf since the
beginning of time. And as the first streaks of light began to creep across the
land, chasing away the darkness of the night, Wakan Tanka finally led the wolf
up into the sacred world of the spirits where the wolf could once more run with
the pack.
When the woman opened her eyes she was surprised to see that the sky
above was both clear and bright. She had slept a little longer than she had
wanted to. As she moved to sit up her eyes fell upon the still body of the wolf.
She lay watching as the breeze gently caressed the thick covering of fur along
the dead animal’s flanks. She knew the hide would make a warm cover for the
sleeping child beside her.
Placing the child upon the ground without waking him from his slumbers
the woman once again took hold of her knife and moved across to the body of the
wolf.
With both respect and skill learnt from many years of observation and
handling the carcasses of the larger buffalo, the woman first offered up prayers
to the spirit of the animal world and Wakan Tanka before she plunged the blade
into the soft under belly of the wolf. It took but just a short amount of time
before she had the hide of the wolf laid out upon the ground so that it could
begin the process of drying.
When the child awoke she was ready to feed his now empty belly. It would
be wise, she now thought, to start her journey back to the village so that she
could present her husband with his first born son. She made herself ready and
wrapped the child in the grey fur of the departed wolf. The climb back up the
steep hill made her legs feel weak again and she needed to rest briefly before
continuing on.
It was not long before she found herself standing at the edge of
Prancing Horse Creek beside which her people camped during the long hot summer.
Before she entered the village she decided she first needed to wash the now
dried blood from the body of her sleeping child. After she had done this she
gently laid him back on the bank. He was wrapped once more in the security of
his fur blanket, before she took off her deerskin dress and walked slowly out
into the deeper reaches of the creek and allowed herself to bathe naked within
its cooling waters.
As she floated on the surface of the waters she felt all her aches and
pains being washed away. When she stood again she then reached down and cupping
her hands together she brought the cool refreshing water up to her mouth and
drank deeply of the sweet tasting waters that was Prancing Horse Creek.
As she made her way back to the bank she heard way off in the distance
the sound of children’s laughter, followed shortly after by the baying of one
of the village dogs. Then along the opposite bank she saw three warriors come
into sight. They did not see her. They appeared to be returning from a hunting
party with fresh supplies of meat. As she pulled her deerskin dress over her
head and allowed it to fall down against her still wet body she became aware of
the smell of meat cooking. It was a delicious smell and made her fragile stomach
groan out loudly in protest.
She quickly retrieved her child, holding him firmly in her arms once
more, as she rushed across the grass in the direction of her village and her
home. She crossed the ground swiftly and before long she came upon the first
painted tipi of her people. As she moved towards the central ground of the
village circle she saw a group of men standing outside the entrance of a tipi
across from where she now was. She immediately recognised her husband amongst
them. Although she desperately wanted to attract his attention she fought the
urge to cry out to him. Instead she carried the child swiftly across the circle
of tipis until she came upon him. She waited, the child pressed tightly to her
breast, and waited for her husband to turn when the voices of the other males
died down, as each became aware of her presence.
When he turned she saw the look of wonder, and then pride, burning
brightly within his eyes as he took in the sight of his wife and child. He
reached out his arms and took the child from her. He held the naked child high
in the air as the other men around him smiled at the sight of a father seeing
his first born son for the first time.
“Behold,” he cried, “for I have a son!”
IN SEARCH OF A VISION.
When the young Oglala warrior entered the tipi of the old medicine
man
Running Antelope he was struck by how dark the interior seemed to
be. Although a fire burned in the middle of the dirt floor the many cooking pots
that were stacked around the hearth blocked any light that may have been
reflected up into the tipi.
When he sat down he also noticed hanging high above his head the bones,
feathers and skeletons of many birds that the old man had collected during his
long life as a medicine man. When he glanced across at
Running Antelope the Oglala
warrior was a little surprised to see him busily looking down into one of the
larger pots bubbling away before him. The young man thought that maybe the
medicine man was about to offer him something to eat
from the pot he was looking into. But he was a little surprised
however when the old man pulled a large antelope skull from out of the boiling
water. Once prepared, this would soon join the other skulls that lay scattered
around the floor of his tipi.
“You have been blessed
my brother.” The medicine man spoke without
looking across at the young man for he was still inspecting the gleaming white
skull that, under
his stick like arms, he rather shakily held aloft. “The birth of a first born is truly a
moment to behold the wonder of Wakan Tanka and to give thanks for all his
blessings which he bestows upon us his children.” He carefully placed the
skull back into the pot.
“I have given thanks to the Great Spirit for blessing me thus. And I
will continue to give thanks until my bones are turned to dust and I am returned
to the womb of my mother.” The young warrior replied solemnly.
“Then you must make a journey my brother.”
“I know. When I leave this lodge I will go away into the distant hills
and wait in the hope that Wakan Tanka might bless me with a vision. But before I
do that I know that I must prepare myself so that he will know that it is I who
has journeyed to visit with him. Maybe then Wakan Tanka will help me chose a
suitable name for my son.”
“It is a good thing to think about a name for this young Human
Being.” The old medicine man said with a nod of approval. “I will begin
prayers and offer up gifts to the Great Spirit in preparation for the time when
he may grant you all that you want.” Then taking a round wooden bowl the old
man scooped some liquid from out of one of the other pots boiling away around
the fire and offered it across to the young Oglala. “Drink this my brother for
it will help you in your quest for the vision that you now seek.” He sat and
watched the young warrior drain the bowl of the bitter tasting soup. When he had
finished the old man took the bowl back and scooped up more of the liquid. This
time the old man drank it himself. “Now that we have prepared your mind, we
must now prepare your body.”
The old man stood and on thin spindly legs moved around to where the
young man sat and began removing all of the decorations and pieces of clothing
that adorned his strong bronzed body. Everything was removed until the young
Oglala wore nothing more than a breech cloth to cover his private parts. Next
the old man poured buffalo fat down onto the young man’s head and then worked
it in with his thin old fingers. He worked slowly, massaging the fat down and
along the long strands of black hair. Then he pressed the hair down onto the
scalp before tying the rest back with a thin leather strap. Throughout the whole
procedure the old man chanted songs and prayers. Not once did speak directly to
his charge.
When he had finished with the hair the Medicine Man quickly made up
several pots of paints. Each time he completed the mixture he would then hold
the bowl up high above his head as he whispered a scared prayer so that Wakan
Tanka might see the colours he had made before he began the task of painting the
face and body of the young warrior. When the pots were all laid out at his side
the old medicine man began. First he took up the pot of blue paint and started
applying it to the skin, covering the entire left half of the warrior’s face,
only leaving a circle of clear skin around the left eye as he spoke softly to
the warrior.
“Blue is for the sky above,” then taking up the bowl of yellow
paint, “upon which I now paint the yellow circle of our brother The Sun.” He
then leaned across and pulled out a smoldering log from the fire and carefully
scraped the charcoal into another bowl. Once it had been mixed down into a
powder and grease added he then began spreading the blackened mixture across the
right side of the face once again leaving a circle around the right eye.
“Black is for the night sky.” Then he took up a pot of white paint, into
which he added a little of the black charcoal. As he prepared the paint he said.
“In the blackness of the night there is but one light that shines down upon
all true Human Beings. The light comes from our sister The Moon who watches over
us.”
When the face was completed the medicine man began to work on the body.
He painted several red and yellow circles around the upper arms and thighs and
finally the ankles of the warrior as if painting him for war. Next he painted
large white hailstones across the young man’s back and stomach. For dramatic
effect he placed the zig zag lines along the length of both the young man’s
arms and legs. When at last they were standing facing each other, both pride and
pleasure burning in the old man’s eyes as he looked upon the painted figure of
the man before him, he moved closer for one final effect. When he spoke it was
in a very low whisper.
“You must open both your eyes and your heart when you stand before
Wakan Tanka. Let him cast his sight upon the sun and moon that you wear upon
your face, the source of the light and darkness within our world. Also show to
him the sacred circles that mark the journey of a man’s life. Humble yourself
before him. Now go my brother and may you be blessed with the vision that you
seek.” With one last gesture the old man placed the palm of his left hand upon
the younger man’s chest. “This yellow hand will keep the purity of your
heart safe until you return to your people and village.” When he removed his
hand a yellow image of the hand now protected the young Oglala warriors heart.
When he stepped outside the old man’s tipi his eyes instantly hurt
because of the bright light that the sun now cast down upon the earth. As he
walked away from the lodge the men of the village saw him coming towards them
and all fell silent and moved out of his way. When he had passed they watched as
he moved away from the village. From the lodge of the old medicine man, somewhat
muffled by the thick covering of buffalo hides; they now heard the chanting of
sacred songs and prayers.
Once away from the village the young man strode purposefully across the
land towards the highest hill that he could see. He knew that to reach the top
before the sun disappeared from the sky and the all-encompassing darkness
descended across the land he must move more rapidly and so broke stride and
started to run. The run up the steep side of the hill towards the summit was
made just as the sun dipped below the horizon. For it was now headed down into
the big deep waters far away in the West into which the sun fell every night to
be extinguished for his night of rest before springing to life after he had
awoken when he would once more rise in the East.
With every muscle taut and aching he now stood upon the hill as the sun
sank below the distant horizon. Across the vastness of the sky above he watched
as the last streaks of light faded and died. Darkness had conquered the light
and he knew that he must now offer up a prayer to his sister the moon in the
hope that she might help him in his quest for a vision.
“I send heartfelt greeting to my sister.” He called out into the
night. “For
I am an Oglala Lakota, a true Human Being, and I come to share this
night with you.”
“It makes my heart soar to see you my brother.” The Moon answered as
she showed her full face from behind the cloud that had been hiding her.
“You are even more beautiful this night.” The young man said as he
gazed upon the silvery face of his sister. What he spoke was both truthful and
what he felt in his heart.
“Your words are even more precious because I know the contents of your
heart are true.”
“Would you like to know why I have come in search of a vision?”
“It is because you have been blessed with a child.” Answered the
Moon. “A son who will bring you much happiness. I confess that at first I was
a little jealous having to share your heart with another, but a child, that is
different, even I could not be so cold hearted as to deny you a fathers love for
his child.”
“Has our brother also heard of the birth of my first son?” He asked
of the Sun.
“When Wakan Tanka blesses his children everybody knows. Throughout the
long hot day the Golden Eagle has soared high in the sky crying out the good
news. He cried so loudly that nothing could have possibly failed to hear him.”
“Then I must thank my brother of the skies.” The young warrior said
full of pride as he instantly began chanting a sacred song in praise of his
brother the Golden Eagle.
When this was done he stood throughout the long cold night looking up
into the sky. He wondered at the streaks of light that chased across the
vastness of the night sky. He watched as they ebbed and died. The silence around
him was only broken by the calls of the wild animals that hunted when other
animals slept. Far off in the distance a pack of wolves could be heard talking
to each other as they set out to hunt their prey. Overhead he heard the swish of
feathers as a night bird flew by him in search of a small creature of the night.
When the first rays of light appeared on the horizon the young Oglala
warrior bid his sister good-bye and turned so that he faced east. This way he
would be looking at the distant horizon over which his brother the Sun would
rise. His eyes now marveled at the wonderful sight of the dawning. As the sun
rose ever higher in the dawn sky he began to chant a song in praise of his
brother.
“It has been a long time since we last spoke my brother.” The Sun
said as the heat from his glow began to warm the air around the almost naked
body of the Human Being standing before him. “I have heard of your blessing
and my heart is truly happy. We are old friends you and I and it makes my heart
soar to hear your song. May your son always walk in my light, may he find and
follow the sacred paths throughout a long life, and may he always know what it
is to be a Human Being.”
“Thank you my brother.” The young father replied full of pride at
the Sun’s blessing for his son.
Even during the hottest part of the day the young warrior stood firm. He
did not allow the tiredness of his mind or the tiredness in his limbs to
distract him from his mission upon the hill. Throughout the day he sung praises
and offered up prayers to the Great Spirit. And when a wind blew to cool his hot
and sweaty body he gave thanks to the four directions for helping him in his
plight. And when the sun began its descent in the sky the young Oglala bid him
farewell.
On his second night standing upon the hill the young man saw again the
silvery moon that was his sister. They once again greeted each other and then
the moon fell silent for she knew that the young Oglala was waiting for
something very important to happen.
THE VISION.
On the fourth morning of his vigil upon the hill the Oglala warrior
could not fail to notice the morning dew that coated the grass around his cold
bare feet. Although the night had been cold he had not allowed this discomfort
to worry him. When his brother the Sun rose from his slumbers and appeared over
the crest of the horizon the warmth that he usually brought with him was
somewhat lacking this morning. He also noticed that the clouds overhead looked
somewhat greyer than normal.
The Oglala warrior closed his eyes for what seemed like a fraction of a
second but when he opened them again the scene before him had changed
completely. The sun no longer appeared in the sky. Instead there was a clear
blue sky that stretched from one horizon to the other without a blemish of a
grey cloud. As he looked around him for the yellow disk that was his brother a
deep voice suddenly rumbled across the plains towards where he now stood.
“Greetings my son.”
No other words were needed for the Oglala warrior to know that this was
the voice of Wakan Tanka who had chosen to speak with him directly. This was
indeed a very special moment for the warrior and in honour of such a privilege
he fell to his knees and held his arms outstretched towards the sky as he spoke.
“Greetings oh
Great Spirit. I have come to thank you for my son, for making me a Human Being, and
for blessing me with this most sacred moment. My heart soars high in the sky to
know that you have blessed me thus.”
“I have watched you throughout your time upon the hill. I have
listened to the prayers that you have offered up to the sun and the moon. I have
listened with a full heart at the praise that you have bestowed upon me. It is
good to know that you will carry me in your heart now and forever more. And
because of your devotion to me I want to grant you the vision that you seek.
Look and listen carefully because contained within the vision is a name that you
must place upon your newborn son. Do this in honour of me.”
Suddenly the Oglala thought he felt the ground beneath his feet shake,
and although the sky above remained clear he thought he heard the distant sound
of thunder also, he looked ahead at the far horizon and thought he saw a flash
of movement. The thunder rose in volume as the shaking beneath his feet grew
ever more violent. Then he saw the image of a horse galloping across the flat
plains towards where he stood.
The horse suddenly stopped running and the shaking of the ground and the
sound of thunder also ceased to be. A sudden calm now spread across the plains.
The young Oglala then watched as the ground in front of the horse split open and
a young naked warrior suddenly crawled from out of the womb of mother earth.
The warrior then stood before the frightened horse and spoke soothingly
to the animal. Although the Oglala warrior could see the mouth of the young
warrior open and close as he spoke to the animal he could not however hear what
it was he was saying. The horse seemed to listen but then, like the true
character of an animal of the wild, it rose upon its hind legs and kicked both front legs violently into the air. Unafraid the naked warrior walked across to
the raging animal.
Again the warrior spoke soothingly to the horse. Then he slowly reached
out a hand and allowed the animal to gain his smell. This action seemed to offer
the horse some comfort. It also allowed the warrior to move in even closer. The
Oglala watched in silent anticipation as the warrior
before
him slowly placed his arms
around the horse’s thick neck with one hand and took hold of his mane with the
other. The look of fear that had once been plain to see within the eyes of the
animal was suddenly replaced with a look of intense calm.
In one swift movement the young warrior threw himself upon the back of
the animal and sat astride the powerful beast. The horse remained perfectly
calm. Then in the sky above there appeared the red back hawk that began to
scream so loudly that the Oglala warrior had to cover his ears with his hands so
as to block out the intensity of the noise. The cry of the hawk did not seem to
bother the young warrior or the horse upon which he sat. They continued to look
ahead at the Oglala warrior oblivious to everything else that was going on
around them.
The young warrior spurred the horse into full
flight, hair and mane streaked behind them as they flew across the plains. They
charged towards the place where the Oglala stood. The ground shook and the
battle cry of the warrior and the shrill cry of the hawk pierced the air.
Suddenly the air around both horse and warrior became dense with both arrows and
spears and the lethal bullets fired from long barrels. But nothing it seemed
could harm the warrior or his charging mount. And in defiance of everything the
hawk, flying
low
just above the head of the warrior, still shrilled his own war cry
for all to hear.
As they drew ever closer to where he stood the Oglala warrior could now
see the look within the eyes of
both
the charging horse
and its rider. It was a look of absolute
togetherness
for in the heat of battle this is what would get them through the dangers that
would often surround them on all sides. It was a look that would remain fixed
within
the Oglala's
mind for as long
as the Great Spirit allowed life to flow through his body.
He did not move
or turn away when the naked warrior and his galloping mount charged straight at
him. When it seemed they were about to collide a sudden and powerful wind
enveloped the entire body of the Oglala and he had to close his eyes as dust and
dirt
flew up into his face. When he opened them again the air around him was calm and
he was once more standing upon the hill. The sight of the sun burning brightly
overhead brought with it the fact that his vision was now at an end.
Before he left his position upon the hill the Oglala warrior once more
fell to his knees and with arms outstretched towards the sky again offered up
sacred prayers, first to the Great Spirit, and then to his brother the Sun and
his sister the Moon. Once this was done he turned and began the descent down the
steep hill. Although his body was weak from his ordeal the thought of discussing
his vision, and therefore gleaning the meaning of what he saw with the old
medicine man, drove him ever onwards to the village that was his home.
The village dogs barked out his arrival once he entered the circle of
familiar tipis. Those who were outside recognised him and word soon reached his
wife, mothering their child in the comfort of their tipi, of his return. Instead
of going to his own tipi the Oglala warrior made his way across the circle until
he stood once more before the tipi of the old medicine man. He was about to make
his arrival known to those inside when the flap of the tipi was thrust back and
the old weathered head of the medicine man popped out into the evening sunlight.
“So you have arrived back.” The old man smiled as he gestured for
the young man to enter. “I heard a voice this morning that said you were to
arrive here before the sun set this day.” The old man ushered the younger man
to sit down before the fire that was still covered with a number of pots in
varying sizes. “You must eat and drink before speaking.”
In the darkness of the tipi the younger man heard a rustle of clothing
behind him. To turn around would appear bad manners so he sat looking at the old
man who was indicating with a nod of his head to someone behind the Oglala. The
two men sat in silence as the medicine man’s wife brought two wooden bowls
across to one of the pots and scooped a thick stew into each of them. These she
then offered to the two men.
“Thank you mother.” The young man said politely.
The smell from the bowl made his stomach dance and gurgle in excited
anticipation of the prospect of having something inside it at last. Manners
dictated that he should show restraint however hungry he felt. He could not wolf
the food down like some ungrateful and unmannered coyote. With his fingers he
took out pieces of meat placed them into his mouth and chewed. The wonderful
smell was equally matched by the taste. It was the finest meal he had eaten in a
long time. When the bowl was finally empty he placed it down on the ground in
front of him. The old woman scurried to clear it away. As she bent before him he
said in a low voice.
“Once
again I thank you mother, it was the finest stew I have tasted, I thank you
for both a full heart and a full stomach.”
Although he did not see it he knew by the way that the old woman now
carried herself that she had been pleased to hear his words and receive his
praise. She waited at the side of her husband until he had finished and took the
empty bowl from him. Then without having to be told or asked she left the tipi.
This was the moment that the old man had been waiting for.
“You must tell me everything that you saw in your vision my son.”
The old man said softly. “And when you have finished then together we will
come to understand what it is the Great Spirit wants you to see.”
As the Oglala began to recount everything that had happened to him the
old man sat, with both eyes closed, gently rocking back and forth as he listened
to every word the younger man spoke. He did not interrupt neither did he seek to
question. When at last the young man had finished the recounting of his journey
home to the village the tipi fell silent and the old man then opened his eyes
once more.
“It is not often that the Great Spirit speaks with his children so
directly.” The young man could tell by the reverence in the old medicine
man’s tone how important this event had been. “And the significance of his
words are all the more important because of this. So I want you to once more
tell me everything you saw in your vision.”
The Oglala again recounted the appearance of the thundering horse, the
naked warrior climbing up out of the womb of the mother earth. How the warrior
mounted the horse and how they escaped the arrows, the lances, the bullets that
were fired at them. How the red backed hawk flew alongside the warrior
throughout his charge.
“I want you to look once more upon the face of this young warrior.”
The old man said. “Close your eyes and see him in your mind’s eye again.
Once you have him there look closely at his face and tell me what you see.”
Within a short time the Oglala replied. “He has a face like mine, but
much younger, and he has his mother’s gentle eyes.”
“Do you now recognise him?”
“The
warrior was my new
born son
grown into a man.” The Oglala opened his eyes and smiled across at the
old medicine man nodding his head with a smile upon his lips.
“But I feel the importance of this vision has something to do with the
animals
you saw. The name that you are seeking is contained within the significance of
those images. Now look again upon the scene and tell me what you see?"
The Oglala once more did has he had been instructed to do. The tipi fell
silent and both men closed their eyes and waited for the image to come galloping
into their mind’s eye. It did not take long and what the young Oglala was now
seeing so the old medicine man sitting opposite him saw. The sight of the hawk
screeching through the air slowly revealed itself to the old man and he
instantly recognised what the Great Spirit was trying to convey within this
vision. He opened his eyes and looked across at the Oglala who still sat with
his eyes closed. He did not disturb the younger man but waited patiently for him
to open his eyes again.
“Although I see the horse
and the hawk again I do not understand what the vision is
trying to tell me.” The young Oglala said.
“Look at
the whole vision as one.”
"The whole vision?” The young Oglala said slightly puzzled.
“Do
you not see my brother?” The old man smiled
trying to
encourage the Oglala to open both his inner eye and heart.
“The hawk was crying out something for me to hear but I could not understand
him.”
“He was calling out the name.”
“The
name!” The words almost flew out of the young Oglala’s mouth before he had time to
think. “The
hawk was greeting me by
showing me the name of my son!”
“Then you have found the name that the Great Spirit wishes for you to
bestow upon your son.”
“Rides
Beneath The Hawk!” The young man shouted aloud
as he jumped to his feet. “I must go
and tell him the name that has been chosen for him so that he will know who he
is. Thank you oh wise one for making me see with clarity that
which my own eyes were
blinded too.”
The old medicine man watched him leave. He waited a moment or two before
he followed the young Oglala out of the tipi. The evening air was still warm and
the sky above burned blood red like the embers of a dying fire. Across the
circle of the village the medicine man watched the young Oglala rush to the
entrance of his own tipi. In one quick movement he was inside. The old man
slowly sat down upon the ground and waited. He knew that before the sky turned
black overhead the young Oglala would bring him a gift in acknowledgment for all
the help that the medicine man had given him during this most special of moments
in a father’s life.
THE NAME
GIVING CEREMONY.
The days leading up to the Name Giving Ceremony were a busy time for the
young Oglala and his wife. They were constantly kept busy making preparations
for the feast that was to follow the ceremony. Fresh deer and buffalo meat were
hunted and cooked. Several woman of the village helped in this, as vast
quantities would be needed to feed the whole tribe. Vegetables were also sought
and boiled on the morning of the feast. Gifts were made for the people who would
partake or perform in some part in either the Name Giving Ceremony or the feast
and dancing afterwards.
In honour of the occassion the
old medicine man wore his new moccasins,
which the young Oglala had
already presented to him,
this was in gratitude for the help that
the old
man had given to
the young father
in making him understand the meaning of his vision. He walked out
into the middle of the circle and stood looking at the tipi of the young parents
whose child he was about to help name.
The village crier was busy going from tipi to tipi informing all that the
newest member of their village was waiting for them to gather before the tipi of
their chief. Every man woman and child of the village, including the chief and
the elders of the village all sitting proudly upon the ground outside the
chief’s tipi, were all dressed in their finest clothing for this important
event.
The last to leave their tipi was the young Oglala and his wife who
carried the baby in her arms. They were pleased to see the many faces of their
loved ones and friends waiting to greet them. When they stood before their chief
the medicine man moved to the mother and gently took the child from her. He held
the child high in the air and offered up a prayer inviting the Great Spirit to
come join them for the Name Giving Ceremony.
After this was done he unwrapped the child from the wolf blanket that he
had slept in since the night of his birth. Then, cradling the child naked in his
hands, the old medicine man now walked across and showed him to the chief and
the elders. They all cast their eyes upon the child and each one nodded at the
medicine man to show that he now knew the identity of the newest member of their
tribe. Next the medicine man walked around the gathering so that each member of
the tribe could look upon the face of the child so that they would know him by
sight.
When he reached the mother he handed the child carefully back to her. As
she stood holding the baby to her breast the old man began a series of songs and
prayers. Those who wanted to joined in with the singing. But they fell silent
when the holy man offered up the prayers, on behalf of the child, first to the
four directions, then to the Sun and the Moon and finally to the Great Spirit,
father to all living things. Lastly he thanked Mother earth for bring forth the
child.
Then he took the child again from its mother and handed the baby over to
its father who now carried him proudly across to where the chief sat watching
them. Kneeling down the young Oglala first appeared to whisper to the child in
his arms and then he whispered something to the chief and elders. The chief
showed his approval of the chosen name by smiling broadly and nodding his head
vigorously. The young Oglala then turned and holding his child high to the sky
proclaimed.
“Behold my son who shall be named...Rides
Beneath The Hawk.”
High in the sky a red backed hawk swooped down low upon the gathering and
gave a full throated cry as it sailed across the village. Far off in the
distance some thought they heard the primitive cry of the grey wolf. And the
ponies within the large herd of the village began to bay and call out their own
greetings to their new brother.
The murmuring of approval, and all the signs, pleased the young Oglala as
he handed the child back to his mother. Throughout the long ordeal the baby had
been awake and yet had not cried out once. This was seen by many also as a good
sign. When the final prayers were offered the chief and elders rose to their
feet.
“It makes my heart soar high in the sky to see my people and our
brothers and sisters of the animal world so happy. Today has been a good day.
May the name Rides
Beneath The Hawk become known throughout our lands and may our enemies tremble
when they hear that name. And now let us begin the celebrations for my stomach is
reminding me that a feast awaits us all.” The Chief, followed closely by the
elders, now led the way to the celebrations.
The pots containing the food were now brought forward and soon the people
were sitting around the area at the center of their village enjoying the feast.
As the sun began its descent a large fire was built for light and soon several
men had taken up the drums as dancers twirled and jumped around the flames
licking the night sky.
It was now that the young Oglala slipped away from the celebrations and
walked across to his tipi. Once inside he quickly collected the presents that he
intended to distribute amongst various people who had made the day so
successful. He carried the presents back across to the gathering. He then placed
them upon the ground before his wife.
Picking up a soft pair of deer leggings that his wife had so beautifully
made he crossed to the old medicine man and handed them to him. Although he
tried to conceal his joy at receiving such a wonderful and beautifully crafted
gift the young Oglala could see in the old face a measure of pleasure. Next he
carried a new pipe that he had carved himself across to their chief who received
it with a nod and a smile. Several smaller gifts were then handed to the elders.
Other gifts, presented by his wife, were then given out to those who had helped
in the preparation of the food and finally gifts were given to the dancers who
had entertained them all with both their dancing and singing.
It had been a good
day, a great day to name a child. The sun had shone brightly and when the night
descended the moon had come out to partake of the celebrations also. The people
were happy and it felt good to be alive. When the child had fallen asleep he was
covered once more in his blanket of wolf fur and cradled gently in his
mother’s arms as she sat and watched with pride her husband leading the men
around the fire in the scared dance of the warrior society.
The child stirred slightly in her arms and the mother lowered her face
and kissed her son gently upon the face. This seemed to comfort him and he moved
no more. As she looked down upon the baby’s face she suddenly knew that great
things were going to befall the child in her arms. He would grow to be a great
warrior and his name would spread far beyond the little village that he had been
born into. The People would sing songs in his honour and generations would know
of his many victories in battles and his good deeds.
Now in the yellow light of the fire the mother studied the small sleeping
face and her heart filled with undying love. She closed her eyes and offered up
a silent prayer to the spirit of the wolf that she had
comforted on his
last journey. When this was
done the response was instant. From the direction of the hills upon which her
husband had stood awaiting his vision the call came. If she had been able to
view the hill she would have seen a lone grey wolf with his snout pointing
towards the sky as he called out the centuries old greetings.
“Come
my little brother, come
and join
us,
for the hunt
shall
shortly begin!"
THE
END.
Copyright © William
Purcell 2003
All rights reserved.
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