Spirit Pouch (36 page)

Soon I see the boulder in the trail where I had seen Fast Bear for the last time. 
Did he quit?  Is he injured?
  I round the corner.  Fast Bear is trotting on the small trail and is just joining the trail that I am on and he is ahead of me!  His red silk cloth is no longer under his belt.

He took a short cut!
  my thoughts scream.
  No one said what trail we had to run.  So it is fair, but sly.

Not only is he ahead of me, but he is running fast.  Maybe more quickly than me, and I am pushing my limit considering the rocks and sand and occasional tree branch in the path.

I do push hard, though, to catch up with Fast Bear and the distance between us seems to close slightly. I have to be with him or ahead of him toward the end because even with a finishing sprint at this distance there would be no way to close the gap.

At the top of the mountain it felt great to start downward, but now the muscles I use to go downhill feel weak and unreliable. 
At this pace will they hold?  Will they obey?
  With every stride the muscles in my legs must support my weight pounding against the rocks.  My chest and diaphragm are heaving in and out to get enough air, and my arms pump and fling outward to help balance my gliding body over the rocks.

I am gaining a little on Fast Bear, but I can see why he gets his name. 
Going downhill he is truly fast.
  I try not to think of that. 
I am fast, too.  And I am strong.

The rocks are mostly gone now and the trail is a dirt path again bordered by tall yellow-green grass.  I keep my eyes on Fast Bear.  He is my goal.  My target.

I see Fast Bear slip on the sand and he goes down out of control, but in a moment he is up and picking up speed.  Tired legs, slippery trail.  At the speed we are running, falling is a costly mistake, and it costs Fast Bear a few valuable seconds because I close the gap down to about thirty feet.  I am not on his heals, but close enough to put pressure on Fast Bear.  Maybe he will fall again and I will take the lead.

The path, partially hidden by grass, curves up ahead, but I see Fast Bear ahead so I know where the path is and which way it turns with no surprises.  Watching Fast Bear, I round the curve, but I don't see the muddy spot until it is my very next step.  Knowing that it may be slippery and slick, I try to step on the bordering grass.  Too late.  My foot lands and slides.  Off balance, I try to turn and I feel like a cat, twisting with arms flailing to get my feet back under me.  To no avail, I see the ground coming up to meet me. 
No rocks,
somehow my eyes get the message to my brain before I land, so I tuck into a ball and roll over.  My momentum pushes me onto my feet and I am running again.  The skin on my leg and my elbow sting and I am sure that I left some back there in the mud. 
I'm gunna be sore!

My eyes land on Fast Bear.  He is turning away from me.  I think he must have heard me slip and had turned to see my cat-like ballet dance and gymnastic roll.  Between Fast Bear watching me and my fast recovery I lost very little distance.  Now I am running strong.  So is Fast Bear.

We reach the stream where we cross.  Fast Bear jumps to the middle again, then sloshes across.  Not me.  I take three giant strides and I am across, right behind Fast Bear.  We are both up the bank and running.  My mind calculates that we have less than a half mile to the village, but the path is wide and relatively flat and we can run side by side.

It can be a long half mile when trying to sprint.  My mind says go, go, go!  My legs say no, no, no.

I remember hearing that 'the will to win on game day is never greater than during practice.'
[94]
  Well, I have practiced hard and I intend to win.  Nothing less will do.  My legs are like great lead weights and my lungs feel like they will rip into shreds and burst into fire with every breath.  My mouth and throat are dry as sand and I want to quit, to rest.  But I cannot.  My will to win is strong.  Mightier than my common sense.  So, I pour every ounce of strength that I possess into my legs and lungs and I push forward with the will of a winner.

We are nearly side by side now and I am gaining on Fast Bear.  I match him stride for stride, but my stride is longer than his and I have the edge.  I see the finish line.  I see people.  With all my might I push forward, gaining inches, and we cross the finish line.  The Sioux warriors are roaring and I collapse onto the ground, my strength gone.  All I can do is breath.

"Jared," Ty says, running up to me and grabbing my shoulders with his hands.  "Jared, get up and walk."

"I …"  I am breathing too forcefully to talk.  I want to say that I have to rest, but Ty pulls me to my feet.

"You will catch pneumonia or something if you lie there," he says without much conviction.

"Did I win?" I breath.

"It was a great race.  You were neck and neck at the end," Ty answers.  "But they say that Fast Bear won."

My heart sinks into my ankles. 
I should have won.  If only I hadn't slipped.  If …

"Chief Four Bears sent a runner to make sure that you didn't cheat," Ty says.

"Me?" I squeak.

"He wants to know that you left your marker at the top," Ty finishes.

"I guess that doesn't really matter now," I say indignantly.  "If I didn't win, then he doesn't have to be concerned with me cheating, now does he?"

"No, I suppose not," Ty agrees.  "But it was still a very close race.  "Maybe he will let you keep your name."

"And stay alive, too," I say.  "That would be good."

Chief Four Bears walks toward us.  He holds his mace up above his head  and the crowd of Sioux warriors become completely quiet.  In a loud voice, so that all can hear, he speaks, first in Lakota, then in English, "I sent a runner before the rising sun to bring back the markers from the tree at top of the mountain.  By this I will know that each of you reached top of mountain before turning back.  My runner comes now."

I see his runner.  He pushes through the crowd of warriors and places two items into Chief Four Bear's hands.

"Thank you, Red Arrow.  You honor the Lakota by your quick completion of this task," he says.  Holding up the photograph of Lyn he says, "Is this your marker, Runs-Like-Deer?"

"Yes," I say.

He holds up the red silk cloth.  "Is this your marker, Fast Bear?"

"Yes," Fast Bear replies in the Lakota language.

Chief Four Bears turns to me.  "Runs-Like-Deer, you are not as quick as Fast Bear.  From this time forward you shall be known as Runs-Like-Dog-With-Three-Legs.  I banish you from our village and from our tribe.  If my people see you, they will hunt you just the same as any White Man.  This I pronounce upon you as Chief of …"

"Wait!" I hear someone call from a distance.

Every head turns to see Medicine Eagle running toward us.  He pushes his way through the crowd of warriors.

"Chief Four Bears," he says breathing rapidly.

"Yes, Medicine Eagle.  You were not present to witness Runs-Like-Deer defend his name.  He did not win the honor to be called Runs-Like-Deer.  And you now interrupt my decree to banish him?"  Chief Four Bears repeats this in Lakota for emphasis.  A great stir rumbles through the group of warriors.

Several warriors cry out in their language.  I don't have to speak Lakota to know they are saying, "Banish him!  Banish him!"

"Yes, Chief Four Bears," Medicine Eagle says.  "Please hear me?"

Four Bears nods subtly.

"I, too, left for the mountain before the morning sunlight," he says in both English and Lakota.  "At the top, near the tree, I hid myself behind a bush and was quiet like a fawn.  The sunlight comes and after a time Runs-Like-Deer approaches the tree and places his marker, then leaves.  Very soon another arrives.  It is not Fast Bear.  It is Broken-Hand who places the red marker at the tree."

A wave of chatter rolls through the crowd and then quiets again.

"Broken-Hand leaves by a different trail.  I am about to come out from my bush when Red Arrow comes and picks up the two markers and runs down the trail.  I follow him but he runs faster than I do."  Medicine Eagle pauses.  "Fast Bear did not reach the top of mountain.  If he had, then I believe Runs-Like-Deer would have won."

A hush sweeps over the Sioux warriors and Chief Four Bears finds Fast Bear with his eyes.  Fast Bear lowers his head in shame.

"I will talk of this with you later, Fast Bear," Four Bears says.  He turns toward me and in a loud voice says, "Now concerning my decree to banish you.  From this time forward you will be called Runs-Like-Deer, and you may stay with my people if you respect the traditions of the Lakota and live our way."

"Thank you, Chief four Bears," I say.

"Now you eat and rest.  When the sun is high we will prepare for the Sun Dance ceremony.  You will come."

On wobbly legs I walk with Ty to our teepee, and within minutes Talutah comes with food.  "Thank you," I say nodding my head, and she quietly disappears into the small forest of teepees.  Seeing the fruit and the roasted meat in the bowl makes me realize how hungry I am.  I sit down and snarf the food and drink heavily from the water flask.  When I finish, Ty is still eating.

"I'm just going to lie down for a minute," I say, pushing open the flap of the teepee.

"Okay," Ty says through a mouthful of fruit.

I crawl onto the buffalo skins and in a few seconds I feel myself sinking into a deep, relaxing sleep.

"Jared," Ty says.  "Wake up."

"What do you mean, 'wake up'?" I say a bit irritated.  "I just barely put my head down."

Ty laughs.  "You've been solidly asleep for over two hours.  It's time to help prepare for the Sun Dance."

"Okay," I say.  "If that's what the Chief wants.  After all, he let me live, didn't he?"  I sit up and then groan, "Oooh.  I feel that.  I'm going to be really sore tomorrow.  That run took a lot out of me."  I rub my sore leg muscles and move slowly to loosen them up a bit.

"Speaking of that," Ty says, "let me give you back your stuff."  He hands me my wallet, knife and spirit pouch.

"Thanks," I say.  We both get up and exit the teepee.  A Sioux warrior walks up and motions for us to follow him.

"Was he watching us?" I ask Ty as we follow the warrior to the edge of  the village near a stand of cottonwood trees.

"I don't know, but it does seem a bit odd that he happens to come by to escort us, now doesn't it?"

"Yes," I say as we reach a group of men and women and youth that have gathered.  "Tell me again what we are doing.  I was a bit stressed out and psyched up for the race and I don't remember."

"They are preparing for the Sun Dance ceremony," Ty answers.

"I'm not up on my Lakota ceremonies," I say.  "What is it about?  The harvest or something?"

"The Sun dance is the most important ceremony practiced by the Lakota Indians," Ty says.  "Its when members of the tribe seek a spiritual blessing from Wakan Tanka, the Great Spirit."

"What kind of blessing?" I ask.  "And how do you happen to know this stuff?"

"I looked it up on the internet," Ty says.

"Uh huh," I say with a laugh.  "In 1866?"

"No, silly.  I looked up stuff about the Sioux the night that you told me about the spirit pouch.  It's all over the internet."

"Okay," I say.  But I think,
Maybe he is adopted or something.  Looking up information about the Sioux Indians on the computer is like doing an essay for Old Mrs. Harris without having to.  Who would do that?

"So …" I say.

"So, it looks like we are going to get a tall cottonwood tree for a pole.  It's part of the ceremony."

The tribal Holy Men set out for the edge of a small stand of cottonwood trees and the men, women and children follow them.  We mix into the group and tag along.  The Holy Men select a tall, fairly straight cottonwood tree, and one of them climbs up near the top and ties three ropes.

“The pole is sacred and must not touch the ground,” Ty says as the Holy Man climbs back down.  “I think they will use the ropes to keep it from falling onto the ground.”

The ropes are drawn tightly outward and one man swings an ax.  Soon the tree separates from its stump.  All the men push toward the cut tree.

“Come on,” Ty says.

“What?  Me?  No,” I say.  “This is their ceremony.”

“All the men are helping.  We have to keep the tree from touching the ground.  We have to hold it up.”  Ty looks at me with pleading eyes.  “This may be the only time in your life that you get to participate in the Lakota Sun Dance ceremony.”

“Okay,” I say following Ty until we are under the tipping tree reaching upward to catch the trunk as it comes slowly down. 
Anyone else think standing under a falling tree is not too smart?
I think.  But I do not say it out loud.

When the branches reach me, we push upward and, surprisingly, many hands make for a light tree.  The Holy Men quickly remove the small branches with their sharp hatchets and in just minutes we have a single, long, and fairly straight cottonwood pole suspended in our hands above us.