Tuesday, January 12, 2010

Medicine!


Big medicine! Lost Wolf watches a red tailed hawk soaring on a high thermal across a broad expanse of blue sky. The hawk is a messenger and medicine animal, and he is elated to see brother hawk watching over him and his fellow warriors as they prepare to confront the enemy. Beside him in the cool forest are three other warriors, each a veteran fighter of the people. What started out as simple hunting trip to the mountains has suddenly become a scene of carnage unlike any the warriors have ever witnessed. The late fall grasses in this pristine meadow are tainted with the crimson wash from dozens of slain buffalo. Their blood and bloating bodies pollute the air with a scent of death that cannot be described. Their killers are sitting around a too big fire eating the only piece of meat that they bothered to salvage from those they have slain, the tongues. Every piece of the life giving buffalo except the hides and tongues has been left to rot in the meadow. A lone calf walks among the bodies crying for his mother, without her hide the youngster cannot distinguish his mothers scent from the other dead so he continues to wander and cry in anguish. Each hidden warrior is full of fury and hatred for those who have come to this place and done this evil thing. Six bearded men sit around the fire, all are dirty and smell of sweat and death. Death ! That is what these warriors will deal to the evil doers, with a loud war cry they burst forth from the forest on horseback, each steed and rider is painted for war and they make a menacing sight as they close in on their prey.


Ten minutes later the meadow is once again littered with bodies, their life’s blood stains the tan grasses and the scent of death rides the wind. Lost wolf and his three friends walk among the dead, they throw every belonging of the evil ones into the fire and even set the wagon and hides on fire. Nothing will leave this place that was part of the evil ones and their lack of honor. A fresh wound across Lost Wolf’s arm from a stray bullet will remind him of this encounter with these white men and their horrible deeds. He helps a fellow warrior throw the last body into the flames, as the fire consumes the corpse he sees a button on the man’s coat, it is just like the button he wears around his neck, the one he was found clutching as a young boy when the people found him. Through blue eyes he watches the flames and wonders if this man who died screaming like a coward could be a long lost relative of his. No! he is Lakota, and in his heart he knows that no relation of his could ever be involved in this kind of evil. Turning from the fire he and his brothers of the forest retreat to the west.

I Look up and see a Hawk soaring overhead, I offer up a prayer to the Hawk, they are big medicine.. I move slowly through the late evening shadows along this high meadow, suddenly the hair stands up on my neck and the wind breathes to me of something amiss. I have had this feeling before, with my left hand I reach for my tobacco pouch and offer some to the four directions, to the mother earth, and to the creator with my right. I slowly retreat to the west and deeper timber, there is bad medicine here and I want no part of whatever happened here in the past.. Some things never go away, I swear I hear the call of a calf coming from the meadow as I slip from shadow to light in the forest. But why would a buffalo calf be in a place like this? Hawk

4 comments:

Susan Catt said...

Oh why cant we correct the wrongs!

Grandfather speaks through you... Mother's tears never stop wetting her face.

Thank you for bringing to us this inside view of Spirit.

AHO

Greg said...

Thought provoking, my friend. Greg

Christian Parker said...

Your post actually made me smell the putrid rotting flesh of the dead buffalo. Such offhanded waste is just tragic. It's going to be hard to shake that today.

sarina said...

I was again pulled right into the story. Great job Hawk.