Chapter four
By Jim Farrell
The moment that comes into the life of all Natives, came to Brother Bill also. Brother Bill, along with the other children his age, set off on the biggest adventure of their few short years had ever experienced. Given only the skins in which they were born, the children went off into the forest in different directions with the instructions that they were not to return to the canyon for seven moons. They were to send messages back with seven different animals during their experience, to let the principles of the tribe know that they had mastered the art of talking with the animals and surviving in the wild using the skills that they had been taught.
The only weapon they were allowed to take with them was the ability to stare into the eyes of wild creatures. With this one weapon they could convince the creature to leave them alone or if the child was hungry, they could convince the wild critter to swallow a stick and jump over a fire, landing with the stick firmly caught in the fork of two twigs stuck in the ground on either side of the fire. Or they could get them to show where to find fruit, berries or eatable roots.
The only animal that they had to fear was the cunning, quite cougar. The cougar is the only animal that the Natives had never been able to hypnotize, so the Indian children had learned in their play to hide so well, that the cougar would never be able to find them.
The only difference between Brother Bill and the other children was his size. The Indian children were fairly tall, at least seven to eight feet long, while Brother Bill was still only 2 feet 12 inches. The only reason that we could ever figure out was that while he was flying in the wind, something must of hit him on the top of the head to stop his growth.
Anyway, he went traipsing into the tall virgin fir trees that surrounded the Indian encampment, in search of his adulthood. He walked up the mountain side as far as he could, to the very top of a ridge, turned and looked down on the primitive village that he had spent the last five happy years of his life. A giant tear (any tear of a boy 2 foot 12 inches high, would be giant) fell down his cheek as he turned his back on the village and peered down the other side of the mountain, observing before him a green carpet of fragrant forest, ridged by the dark green Salal bush and cedar trees, accented with many strings of deep blue creeks and streams meandering in many seemingly undirected directions.
Brother Bill sat on a large out-cropping of rocks to rest before he explored further. Between the musty scent of cedar and wet ferns, came the crisp tingling essence of approaching winter, forewarning him of a violent time of year to come. Not wanting to worry his adoptive parents, he chose to send them first message by crow, who he knew loved to spread any gossip and news. It’s known far and wide the thriving crow would talk for hours about absolutely nothing, but when he really had something important to say, nothing in the whole world would stop him from saying it.
After walking for two hours watching the trees to see which side the moss was on, so he could tell which way was north, for it was a cloudy, and he couldn’t really see the sun, and he wanted to know which way he was going. He arrived at a high alpine lake just in time to see two crows fighting over a shining rock, arguing over which one had seen it first. Unnoticed by the two crows, Brother Bill crept up so close to them that when the one with the biggest mouth happened to glance up at him. Brother Bill gazed into that argumentative black bird’s eyes until the bird’s eyes got a strange glare as if staring off into space. The other crow grabbed the shiny stone and hopped away as only a crow that’s stealing something can, leaving the one still setting on the lakeside, jabbering to himself.
Brother Bill got up and walked softly over to the confused bird and tenderly picked him up. “Babbling bird, I need you to fly to the Pachena Bay people and tell Grinning Tall Man and She-Who-Hits-Head-On-Branches that I love them, and thank them for helping me grow up. But I need to find a way to leave this lovely valley and strike out on my own, and not to cry for me because this is what I need to do.” He said to the large black bird. “I’d be more than happy to take your message to Grinning Tall Man and She-Who-Hits-Head-On-Branches, if only you’d quit staring into my eyes,” chattered the crow.
“Fair enough”, Brother Bill said. “And I think I’ll just name you Yakety-Yak if you don’t mind”. The nattering bird nodded his beak to Brother Bill, and hopped into the sky as only a crow can, and with his wings flapping headed back to the village to spread the news that he loved to spread. Somehow, Brother Bill had a strange feeling that he and that fast talking bird were to meet again in the future. With the problem of telling his adoptive parents taken care of, Brother Bill’s stomach began to tell him that it was time to find something to eat.
He looked for a place well away from the trees to start a fire because during an Indian summer in the mountains was no time to get cold, especially since he hadn’t found anything to cover himself with. Besides, he would have to have a fire to cook the goose that he had just seen and was about to mesmerize, for high above the lake there was a flock of geese searching for a place to land for the evening. Brother Bill lay down on his back on a flat rock and looking up into the sky, he fixed his gaze on the lead fat goose of the large formation as it began to pass overhead and thought to himself, “you’re going to provide my supper tonight”. Well, anyone who might have heard him would have thought him a bit daffy, but of course, how could they know the trick that the Pachena Bay people used?
Brother Bill began to look at the fat snow goose with all his power, and as the overweight bird flapped her wings even harder, but still fell behind the rest of the flock. That old goose tried not to look down, but the power Brother Bill held her with that frightful gaze. All that goose could think of were the many grain fields just to the south, where she could stuff herself. Little by little that goose fell closer to the ground and when she couldn’t hold back anymore, fell into a controlled glide, straightened out and flew to a flat rock beside the fire and laid three huge eggs on the rock. Her task finished, and ten pounds lighter, she flew to a large tree and broke off a long stick and swallowed it whole. She flew to the water nearby and let the force of the water take her feathers off and all Brother Bill had to do was pick her up, thank her for her life and place her over the fire between the two forked sticks pushed into the ground on each side of the fire. He took the three eggs and broke them into the fire heated rock to cook. Of course, Brother Bill had cleared off an area around the fire and ringed it so that the fire wouldn’t spread. The Pachena Bay people had taught him to be careful of fire because it could burn a forest down with all the animals getting trapped in it.
After eating the bird and eggs, Brother Bill banked the fire and crawled close to keep warm, for he still hadn’t found a new set of clothes to replace the ones that his proud adopted father, Grinning Tall Man, took from him as he started his journey into adulthood. That would have to be his next challenge before he could find a way out of the valley.