Montana Summer Ch. 11
Date: 06.07.2008Keywords: Summer, 11, Montana, Ch.,
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Ryan's riding, and roping at the rodeo had been a big part of winning the team roping event, and now this. Walter was beginning to agree with his father that there was something special about this young man.
They had stopped just past where Ryan had had the confrontation with the three thieves the day before at a small creek to have some lunch, and to rest the horses, especially Bernie. Walt had just shook his head when he learned that Bernie had run at full speed from Baxter's Canyon all the way to the Rocking M ranch.
They had eaten some bannock, a type of bread made from flour, water, salt, and baking powder that was usually fried, or roasted over an open fire, along with some beef jerky, and some canned peaches. Walter had built a small fire, and had made some sage tea; at first Ryan had found it very bitter, but not bad after Charlie had added some honey to it.
Charlie pointed up at mountain, it wasn't nearly as high as the surrounding peaks, as a matter of fact, it looked like someone had taken a knife and sliced the top off, leaving a nice flat mesa for the top of this small mountain, "This place where we are going, is sacred, it is a burial ground for our people," Charlie's eyes were misty looking, "The things those people took were from the burials of many of my friends."
Ryan felt a sudden chill run up his back, he was nervous, he had always felt a little creeped out when he had driven past a cemetery. He nodded as Charlie spoke, taking some comfort in the fact that Walter and Charlie would be with him.
Charlie continued, "We believe that the spirits of our ancestors are here, and that we can walk among them," Charlie looked at Ryan's face and attempted to assuage his worries, "No harm will come to us, as we are going there for righteous reasons. And when we get up there, things will become a little more clear."
It was mid-afternoon by the time that they reached the plateau, Ryan could sense something different about this place, it was dotted with groves of Aspens, and Cottonwood. It was quiet up here, almost an unnatural quiet, the air felt different, almost heavy feeling.
Charlie pointed to a raised burial platform, "It was the way of our people to bury our dead in this way, in the open, that way the spirit could find it's way to what you would call heaven. If we buried the body in the ground, the spirit would be trapped. Generally a person would be wrapped up, and placed on a platform with all of his possessions."
"Do they still do that today?" Ryan asked, as he looked at the platform in a cottonwood tree.
"It is coming back, a lot of the people are beginning to return to some of the old ways," Charlie pointed to one old gnarled tree, "That is where I want to be placed after I die."
The rest of the daylight hours were spent trying to replace the items from the duffel bags on the platforms that they had been stolen from. After a while Ryan had set off on his own, stopping where there was evidence that the resting place had been tampered with. He found things on the ground that the thieves had discarded; Ryan would carefully replace it back with its owner. His original morbid feeling about being around the dead had been replaced with sadness, he found himself wondering about who the person was, what their life had been. What had been their dreams and desires? Ryan felt at peace with himself, over and over he had feelings that he had been here before. By the time the sun had set most of the relics had been returned to their rightful owners. Some of it though Charlie just wasn't able to find a place for.
"I'll think on it overnight," he told Ryan and Walter, "Maybe an answer will come to me."
While Ryan and Walter got the camp set up, Charlie had started a fire and prepared a meal of stew and bannock, with strong black coffee to wash it down. The horses were unsaddled, and brushed down. Ryan cut up a couple of apples and fed them slice by slice to Bernie. After the horses had been fed and watered they were tied to a remuda line. They sat quietly after the meal was over, each seemed to lost in their own thoughts.
Ryan stared at the fire as he sat on the rock, he looked up at Charlie, "You know I wasn't scared yesterday, not of dying, I didn't get scared until I got home."
Charlie nodded, "There is a strength when you are doing right, there is a power in the truth, and it can make us all feel ten feet tall"
"Are you afraid of dying?" Ryan looked at Charlie.
"No," Charlie poked at the fire with a stick, and then looked at Ryan, "When the pale rider comes for me, I will welcome him with open arms, and embrace him like an old friend, I will kiss his cheeks. To fear your death, is to fear your life, death will come to everyone. It is as important as your birth, the beginning of your life, death is a part of your life; it is the end of your life. Worrying about your death that will surely come is wasting your life. I have had a good life, and I have danced in many Sun Dances, and I have tried to observe and keep the old ways alive. I am a lucky man, I have lived two lives, I have lived in the land of my father, and his father, I have a strong son, I am a respected man. I have loved, and been loved by many women," Charlie paused for a moment and looked over at Walter, "Even my wife."
Walt just chuckled and shook his head.
"What did you mean, you had lived two lives?" Ryan asked his eyes were on Charlie.
Charlie stopped playing with the fire and looked up at the stars, "When I was about your age, or maybe a little younger I was an angry young man. I blamed all of my weaknesses and faults on every one else. I lived in a whiskey bottle, and I was a drunkard, I wouldn't listen to my father and mother, I caused them great pain, and even greater shame. Finally an old man came and talked to me one day when I was in jail, and asked me why I had no pride. I asked him what did I have to be proud of; I was an Indian living on a reservation. He shook his head, and told me that my ancestors roamed the plains; part of the greatest light cavalry in the world, they fought with *"Tatanka"**" Yotanka"*, or Sitting Bull. He told me that some of my ancestors probably died at Wounded Knee. He said to deny pride in myself was to deny my ancestors. He told me that I was Lakota, and to take pride in that. He took me to my first AA meeting, and through him I learned the way of the warrior. And that began my second life."
"What do you do now? Ryan couldn't remember anyone telling him what Charlie did for a living.
Walt snorted, "He's the chief, he just causes a lot of trouble for the rest of us."
Charlie shook his head and rolled his eyes, "Damn kids."
Ryan stared at the fire for the longest time and then looked at Charlie, "I remember becoming a warrior..."
Walter sat in silence, and waited for his father's response.
Charlie nodded his head, "I thought that you might"
"I remember what it meant, and how it felt. There was honor among them then, and I remember something else," Ryan eyes were locked on to the flames licking at the wood in the fire.
Charlie's voice was gentle, "What else do you remember?"
"How proud I was to be Lakota, there was never any fear in me, and maybe that is part of the reason I wasn't scared yesterday," he looked at Charlie, and Walter, "I know I'm not Lakota, and I will never be, but I know what it is to be one."
"You may not have been born of a Lakota mother, or had a Lakota father, but in your soul you are one of our people, and you have the heart of a warrior. You proved that yesterday. In the old times what you did yesterday would have made you a warrior in the eyes of the village, yesterday you met the enemy, and you counted coup," Charlie's voice carried a lot of conviction as he spoke, "You have met the *"Wanagi"*, you have had a visit from your spirit guide, and you have defended the sanctity of this place, in my eyes you are as much a Lakota as me, or my son."
Walter spoke for the first time, "I was skeptical when my father told me of your dream, but after I worked with you before the rodeo I changed my mind. I knew you spoke from your heart, and then when I heard about what happened yesterday I again knew you were what my father said you were. Tonight you spoke of how you felt yesterday, that you felt no fear in battle, only after. Someone who was false would have never admitted that. I welcome you as my Lakota brother."
Walter rose from where he had been sitting and walked towards where Ryan was sitting. Ryan rose to meet him and Walter embraced him like a man who embraces his brother.
Charlie got up and he embraced Ryan too, "I too welcome you as my Lakota brother."
Ryan was overwhelmed, he hadn't thought of himself in the terms that Walter and Charlie had expressed. Later as he lay in his sleeping bag staring the multitude of the stars, he replayed parts of what had happened yesterday to portions of the dream he had with *"Mato"**"."* He understood what Walter had meant now, he could remember from the dream what it felt like the first time a Lakota boy proved himself, and he was struck at how similar the experience that he had yesterday resembled the dream.
As Ryan slept he began to dream, he saw five riders in the mountains, the skies were black, as black as hell at midnight. The clouds roiled, and churned, deep rumbling shook the earth, bright bolts of lightning struck various spots on the mountains, more often than not leaving a tree split, and smoking.
The leader of the five men pointed up towards the mountain, he yelled at the four with him, "There is shelter at the other side."
The winds whipped and howled, large mature trees groaned and creaked from the force of the wind. It was just after the time when the sun was highest in the sky, but you couldn't tell, it was almost as dark as a moonless night.
The riders urged their horses up to the plateau of the flat mountain, and were at a full gallop across.
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Keywords: Summer, 11, Montana, Ch.,