lighting it with a burning stick, Shadow sat upon his rolled robe and prayed as he smoked.
He held his chin high as he sought contact with the spirits. Whom these spirits were, exactly, Shadow could not say. He knew of Father Sun and Mother Earth. He knew of their daughter, Sister Moon. He knew of the Thunderbird who brought rain and played the deadly lightning game with the True Humans. But there were other spirits out there as well, each waiting to share medicine with the walkers of earth. This Shadow knew. He prayed to them all at once, wondering which would accept his invitation to serve as his personal guardian spirit and shape his life with magic.
With the pipe smoked, he rose and continued the long walk to the bluff at the head of Sometimes Water. He stopped to smoke again at the spring. The water roared from the base of the bluff as Shadow had never seen. The Burnt Meat People had camped along Sometimes Water several times in his memory, but never when the water was so strong. This gave him confidence. The magic here was good. Grass stood high. Leaves were green and fruit grew everywhere. He was forbidden to eat or drink for the next four days, but the abundance made him hopeful that his father, Shaggy Hump, and his teacher, Spirit Talker, had chosen well his time and place to seek his medicine.
Halfway up the bluff, Shadow stopped to take his third smoke. He could see the haze of many campfires above his camp from here, for he was climbing high, and the day was still. The lodges were hidden in distant timber, but the thin cloud of smoke made him feel near his people. The sun was over him now, the rolling plains below him pale gray and brown in the bright light.
The climb to the top of the bluff became more difficult as the slope steepened. Shadow embraced the challenge, seeking the handholds and footholds that would lift him ever nearer his place of sacred solitude. Near the top, he found a ledge upon which to take his fourth smoke. He felt eager as he spun the drill shaft within its spirals of cured hide, for the number four was sacred. The spirits had created many four-leggeds to serve the True Humans. Four directions joined across the face of Mother Earth. Four seasons made the great circle of time. Shadow faced four most sacred days to invoke something mystic from the spirit world.
The fourth smoke seemed to give him wind to finish the climb. He scrambled over the last brink as if running a foot race, then sprinted up a gentle slope to the highest point on the bluff. Dropping his rolled robe, he turned slowly, letting his eyes sweep across the vast range.
To the east, where the bluff faced, the land rolled away in gentle folds, covered with sage and bunches of grass, dotted with dark green cedar. Between the east and the south, as he turned, his eye followed Sometimes Water, snaking away in a crooked thread of green, vanishing beyond the smoke haze of the village. Due south, the young medicine seeker noticed a thin haze of another hue hugging the horizon, wavering with distant magic. He hoped it might mean a dust cloud from a herd of buffalo. He turned farther still, now shading his brow against the late-day sun. The land rose in rugged steps to the west, broken by many dry ravines and jagged escarpments. Beyond this harsh country were the enemy highlands, the crests of which were visible though they lay several sleeps from here, even by horse. Turning north, Shadow saw the mystic regions of many strange peoples, the Mountains of Bighorn Sheep, and the Cold Dry Hills.
A tiny point of white, flashing momentarily, caught his eye on a hillock he could not have reached by sundown at a dead run. Shadow knew that signal meant antelope, for the tail of that animal could be seen flashing in the sun even when the animal itself blended into a far-distant slope. He wished he might run back to his camp to tell the hunters about the antelope he had spotted and about the dust haze he thought he detected so far away to
He held his chin high as he sought contact with the spirits. Whom these spirits were, exactly, Shadow could not say. He knew of Father Sun and Mother Earth. He knew of their daughter, Sister Moon. He knew of the Thunderbird who brought rain and played the deadly lightning game with the True Humans. But there were other spirits out there as well, each waiting to share medicine with the walkers of earth. This Shadow knew. He prayed to them all at once, wondering which would accept his invitation to serve as his personal guardian spirit and shape his life with magic.
With the pipe smoked, he rose and continued the long walk to the bluff at the head of Sometimes Water. He stopped to smoke again at the spring. The water roared from the base of the bluff as Shadow had never seen. The Burnt Meat People had camped along Sometimes Water several times in his memory, but never when the water was so strong. This gave him confidence. The magic here was good. Grass stood high. Leaves were green and fruit grew everywhere. He was forbidden to eat or drink for the next four days, but the abundance made him hopeful that his father, Shaggy Hump, and his teacher, Spirit Talker, had chosen well his time and place to seek his medicine.
Halfway up the bluff, Shadow stopped to take his third smoke. He could see the haze of many campfires above his camp from here, for he was climbing high, and the day was still. The lodges were hidden in distant timber, but the thin cloud of smoke made him feel near his people. The sun was over him now, the rolling plains below him pale gray and brown in the bright light.
The climb to the top of the bluff became more difficult as the slope steepened. Shadow embraced the challenge, seeking the handholds and footholds that would lift him ever nearer his place of sacred solitude. Near the top, he found a ledge upon which to take his fourth smoke. He felt eager as he spun the drill shaft within its spirals of cured hide, for the number four was sacred. The spirits had created many four-leggeds to serve the True Humans. Four directions joined across the face of Mother Earth. Four seasons made the great circle of time. Shadow faced four most sacred days to invoke something mystic from the spirit world.
The fourth smoke seemed to give him wind to finish the climb. He scrambled over the last brink as if running a foot race, then sprinted up a gentle slope to the highest point on the bluff. Dropping his rolled robe, he turned slowly, letting his eyes sweep across the vast range.
To the east, where the bluff faced, the land rolled away in gentle folds, covered with sage and bunches of grass, dotted with dark green cedar. Between the east and the south, as he turned, his eye followed Sometimes Water, snaking away in a crooked thread of green, vanishing beyond the smoke haze of the village. Due south, the young medicine seeker noticed a thin haze of another hue hugging the horizon, wavering with distant magic. He hoped it might mean a dust cloud from a herd of buffalo. He turned farther still, now shading his brow against the late-day sun. The land rose in rugged steps to the west, broken by many dry ravines and jagged escarpments. Beyond this harsh country were the enemy highlands, the crests of which were visible though they lay several sleeps from here, even by horse. Turning north, Shadow saw the mystic regions of many strange peoples, the Mountains of Bighorn Sheep, and the Cold Dry Hills.
A tiny point of white, flashing momentarily, caught his eye on a hillock he could not have reached by sundown at a dead run. Shadow knew that signal meant antelope, for the tail of that animal could be seen flashing in the sun even when the animal itself blended into a far-distant slope. He wished he might run back to his camp to tell the hunters about the antelope he had spotted and about the dust haze he thought he detected so far away to
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