Читать книгу The Magic Aquifer: Treating the Political Stress Syndrome A Novel - John R. Krismer - Страница 11

Chapter 3

Bear Claw was the Chief of the Ojibwe Annishinaabe Indians living on the Red Lake Reservation, which was located on the United State’s side of the boarder along the western shoreline of The Lake of the Woods. Both Canada and the United States had granted the Indians the sole right to net fish from this lake’s abundant supply of Walleye, and the Ojibwe tribe made much of their living by selling the fish they netted from the large open waters at the south end of this huge lake. Bear Claw, and his small tribe of Ojibwe Indians also maintained a fish processing plant at Wheeler’s Point, where the lake emptied into the Rainy River, which was only six miles north of Baudette, Minnesota. When the tribe was netting near the eastern shore, they always stayed at their smaller Canadian Reservation at the mouth of the Grassy River. On this Reservation, there was a single dirt road that took them south to Wheelers Point, which was about eight miles southwest from where Dave, Bill and Ed were camping at Split Rock Falls.

“Please tell us the story about Kitchimanidoo, the children shouted as they pulled on Bear Claw’s deerskin pants leg.”

With that Bear Claw smiled, as he casually sat down on a huge log bench near the fire.

“All right, but you must promise me you’ll go right home and go to sleep when I’m finished.”

“Yes, we promise,” they shouted in unison as they all snuggled close together, tucking their legs under them and leaning forward in anticipation of what was about to take place.

Bear Claw was in his late seventies, and his face was tanned and wrinkled from the strong winds that were almost always blowing over Lake of the Woods. In fact his wrinkled skin looked much like the leather band he always wore around his forehead, holding back his long gray hair that was tied together behind his head. Bear Claw always enjoyed returning to their Red Lake Reservation after a hard week’s work, and the children always looked forward to hearing the Chief’s remarkable stories about their tribe’s history, which was of course a very special treat for them. Although his joints ached, he awkwardly moved each leg into a comfortable position where they could absorb the heat from the warm and inviting fire. As he lit his pipe, he looked up and blew a huge puff of smoke into the air, as if he was calling upon the Great Spirit Kitchimanidoo for assistance.

“Many moons have passed since Kitchimanidoo, the Great Spirit, approached my father Chief Black Thunder as he and his hunting party slept on the eastern shore of the great Lake of the Woods.”

Bear Claw usually spoke loudly as the Chief, but suddenly he lowered his voice to a whisper saying, “He came as a Ma’iingan,” raising both eyebrows and staring intently at each child sitting around the fire. “As you all know, a Ma’iingan is a great gray wolf.”

With this the children’s eyes widened as they cuddled even closer to one another.

“The Ma’iingan told Chief Black Thunder, that a great battle was about to be waged right on the very spot they were sleeping, and that many Sioux Warriors would attack their camp at the break of dawn.”

“With that, the great Chief Black Thunder woke in a cold sweat as the great gray wolf suddenly disappeared from his dream, but he was sure that the Ma’iingan came to warn him of this great danger. Chief Black Thunder slowly looked around the camp, while the moon cast long frightening shadows from the trees that were blowing in the night wind. The fire’s glowing coals were almost out, as Chief Thunder silently prayed to the Great Spirit Kitchimanidoo. ‘Oh Great Spirit, tell me what I should do.’ He pleaded.”

With that Bear Claw took his pipe and loudly hit it against the log, causing some of the children to shudder as they huddled even closer together. While knocking the hot ashes to the ground, he sat silently staring at the children. Then finally, after he slowly reamed out his empty pipe, he continued.

“Black Thunder lay motionless for a while until the moon finally disappeared behind a cloud, and then he decided to slowly crawl on the ground to warn each member of his hunting party.”

With this, Bear Claw hunched forward moving his arms as if he were crawling.

“By morning, the Ojibwe hunting party had prepared for the attack by filling their blankets with leaves and brush to look like they were sleeping - and while they crouched in the deep grass that lined the shore, they all waited for the attack. Black Thunder knew the Great Spirit Kitchimanidoo had sent the fog for their protection, which had suddenly replaced the wind, but this created an even more frightening and eerie feeling for his hunters as the morning light began to show.”

As Bear Claw spoke, he crouched silently as if he himself was waiting for the attack.

“Suddenly Black Thunder and his tribe of hunters saw many shadows sneaking from the woods, with knives raised, ready to pounce on each sleeping figure.”

As Bear Claw spoke, he drew his knife and raised it high above his head. Driving his knife into the log, the wide open eyes of the children starred in disbelief. Then after leaving his knife in the log, Bear Claw once again sat tall, before continuing.

“As the Sioux drove their knifes into the blankets, Black Thunder suddenly let out a blood curtailing war cry, and each member of his hunting party raised their bow and shot an arrow into the Sioux warrior that had stabbed their blanket.”

With this, Bear Claw paused and raised both eyebrows.

“The Sioux were caught completely by surprise,” he whispered, “and as the Sioux warriors fell to the ground, the Ojibwe reloaded and continued to shoot until they were almost certain that no Sioux warrior remained alive. Only three Ojibwe were slightly wounded when they approached the Sioux, and although unknown to the Ojibwe some Sioux had managed to escape. Then as they walked among the dead Sioux warriors, a strange light suddenly appeared in the sky.”

With this, Bear Claw raised his arm and pointed to the east.

“Black Thunder and his hunting party stood staring at the light as it grew larger and larger, leaving a long tail of fire before it finally hit into the ground only a few miles away.”

With this Bear Claw held out both hands and waved them in front of him.

“When this strange ball of fire hit the earth, the ground shook, and flames shot high into the air, as the Ojibwe hunters threw themselves to the ground face down in fear. Many of the brave hunters yelled this must be Majaimanidoog, which meant devil; while others yelled Majimanidoo, which meant a dark evil spirit.”

Bear Claw slowly stood up and this time he reached out with both arms toward the sky.

“No - Black Thunder shouted, this is surely Nanabozho. Only a spirit full of tricks could cause such a celebration,” Bear Claw shouted.

With this, the children cheered with joy, laughing loudly as they prodded one another, whispering Nanabozho to one another. Then Bear Claws slowly sat back on the log, before continuing.

“Black Thunder and his warriors felt it important to search out where the strange fire had landed, but it was a long, slow and tedious walk because their three wounded warriors slowed them down - yet they knew their trail was in the right direction as they followed the small plume of smoke that could still be seen in the sky where the strange light had hit the earth.”

Bear Claw paused to refill his pipe, and after lighting it with a stick from the fire he once again blew smoke into the air, looking around just as if he was still searching for this strange fire that had dropped from the sky.

“Then suddenly the winds began to blow,” he continued, “as dark clouds moved in to empty their rain they’d gathered over the great lake they’d just passed over, and soon there was no place to hide as lightning and thunder seemed to be everywhere. “

This time Bear Claw raised both arms above his head as if to protect himself from a storm.

“Surely this was a warning to stay away from the strange light in the sky. Then suddenly the rain stopped, and they could no longer see the smoke against the gray sky. With that, Black Thunder’s hunters felt hopelessly lost and saddened for it now could be very difficult to find where the fire had landed. So they turned and began to head back to their camp when suddenly the hunters stopped, all staring at something that seemed to be blocking their path. ‘Look,’ one of the tribe members shouted, pointing in the direction they’d been walking. Off in the distance, the warriors could see Ma’iingan, the same great gray wolf that Black Thunder had seen in his dream.”

With that Bear Claw once again lowered his voice as he stood up and gestured with his arm, “‘Follow me,’ the Ma’iingan seemed to be saying.”

Each child’s eyes were now frozen on Bear Claw, believing he really was the Ma’iingan.

“The hunting party was terrified, but cautiously followed the Ma’iingan until he suddenly disappeared at the foot of a huge rock filled pit that no one had ever seen before.”

“This must be where the fire landed, the tribe members murmured to one another, as they found their way to where they could now see a large hole in the ground that had surely been created by this strange ball of fire they had all seen in the sky.”

“Look, Black Thunder shouted. There in the center of the gouged out ground stood what looked like a huge ball of smoldering rock. Surely the Great Spirit has marked this land for us, so we will always know where our great battle was fought.”

With this, Bear Claw again pounded his pipe loudly against the log, and before he put his pipe away, he whispered.

“And then it happened!”

Each child seemed suspended in mid air, as they waited for him to continue.

“What happened?” They all shouted.

“Steam began to rise around the large hot rock, curling high into the air, like a ghost swirling around them. Then suddenly there was a hissing like sound of a great serpent that grew louder and louder until the warrior’s ears felt like they were going to split if they didn’t cover them.

Then just as sudden as the noise stopped, they saw water spouting out of the ground, shooting everywhere, as if it had been trapped in the ground for many moons. It took only moments for the water to fill the hole in the earth as it began to flow as if it was anxious to reach our great fishing lake. Still in shock by what the warriors had all witnessed, they stood back safely so they were not washed away by the roaring stream as they watched this magic river bubble out of the earth and flow north toward the lake. The spray from the water seemed to be everywhere, feeling cold as ice on their face, as it cooled their sweat covered bodies while they watched this Great Spirit show off its power. As each of the tribe members tasted the water on their lips, it seemed to magically quench their thirst.”

With that Bear Claw licked his lips, as if he himself had just quenched a deep thirst.

“Then one of the wounded warriors looked at his wounds and screamed in amazement. ‘My wound is gone, I’m healed!’”

“As each of the wounded warriors looked at their wounds, they were shocked to see that all their injuries were completely healed.”

“Chief Black Thunder stood up and shouted loudly above the noises of the rushing magic river.”

“This is surely the work of the Great Spirit Kitchimanido. He has provided these sacred waters as our Midewiwin,’ [medicine man]. We must keep this water secret from the Sioux, and the white man. We must never let them know of this spirit who saved our lives and healed our wounds.”

Bear Claw then stood up and began to walk away, but after he took several steps he stopped and turned back to look at the children.

“Tonight, you can dream of this great gift the spirit has given us, but you must never speak about it with anyone other than an Annishinaabe Indian.”

“Can we go see this Great Midewiwin Gift?” One child asked.

“Not until you are older. Its location must be kept secret, but soon our fisherman will be bringing a fresh supply of this magical water to our reservation, and you may all have a taste.”