~ An account of a life in the American
wilderness ~
dedicated to an ancient Yellow Pine and her forsaken heart.
The tree now lies cut and bared to an unforgiving universe.
Born 1535
AD -Felled 1985 AD
| TIMETREE CHAPTERS: 1 Two Indians 2 Spring 3 His Brother The Wind 4 The First Years 5 Comings And Goings 6 Another Spring 7 The Great Meeting 8 Alone Yet Not Alone 9 Remembering 10 Tomorrow Gone Home Page |
Once Upon A Time, |
BOUNDARIES
Throw a stone across the river without wet moccasins,
The
Pilated mocks you there and cheats not in his flight.
The Forest knows not
man's bare foot-print, now long forgotten,
It cherishes its own well enough
and needs not know anything new. ~ ggehrke
TIMETREE Chapter 1 - TWO INDIANS
In a far away western forest, near the Continental Divide, above the Lochsa River, there is an old Indian and game trail. Long ago, the trail was started by animals and then discovered by wandering Indian tribes. In time, many Indians traveled the hidden, high trail because it was an easier journey to trade for flint in times of peace. Because the trail often traverses the higher shelves of the entire Rocky Mountain Range, it commands a spectacular view from above. Often, enemies could be avoided. Yet, the easiest traveling is when the high trail dips down into valleys along streams. The great forest sometimes dipped thick and vast along many rivers and it made travel almost impossible if it wasn't for the old trail. So it was, flawless flint for arrow heads, skinning knives, spears and boring tools was hard to find in some regions of the continent's forests and the northwest. The forest was over fifteen hundred miles long and it was a very, very old forest.
One trail was a path that progressed in an east-west direction. Another, the main Indian Trade trail, was one of the longest in the entire land and ran north-south along the Continental Divide. It began well south of Colorado in southern New Mexico and the few Indians that knew its' entire length, rarely traveled it all the way into Canada. The most prized flint came from lands to the south and flint meant food, weapons and life. It was a common practice to refrain confrontation with possible enemies while on the trail even though they were plainly in sight. The trail mean't right of passage and seldom did anyone commit cowardly acts while upon it. The sight of a wampum bag represented an unseen peace offering for often they contained items that promised safe travel and luck and holy relics that held much power. What was inside often could be of trading interest or at least civil converstation with a restrained, known enemy of old. Traveiling the old Indian Trading Route was an uneasy peace while upon it, but it was better than the alternatives of running into war parties far below in the flat lands at the foot of the Rockies.
The land was as old as time itself. The forest protected many things. Animals and Indians lived there or came for food, lodge pole saplings for tents, or for protection from cold winds. They loved the forest because it was a warmer place against winter winds and it was cool in the thick timber during hot summers.
Years were neither dated nor known as they are today. There was no need. History was handed down by memory and words were not yet written down upon parchments or hides except the criptographic drawings so familiar in the west, some often scratched into walls along rivers or even in caves. The Indian spoke of time in terms of moons, seasons or winters. His spirit merged with the sun that crossed the heavens each day. A warm sun meant abundance, a cool sun meant hard times. Far to the east in another land it was quite different. In that land across a great water, it was the year 1536.
The hot summer days slowly changed to brilliant aspen yellows and willow reds. The colors melted and blended into the rich green of the mountain pines. The ridges and valley slopes heaved with color as the sun glided quietly each day, from the pale blue eastern sky into the deeper hues of the west. The great divide seemed to know winter was coming. The deer moved slowly to the lower slopes, a shade further each night. Three thousand miles to the west in the greatest ocean basin of the planet, an eddy of wind stirred. This was the birth and first breath of a monstrous cold front swelling with life as it fed upon the warm southern Pacific Ocean. To the southwest, the final innocent days of summer were about to fall victim to the storm. The mountains awaited the coolness that would soon arrive. Hidden in the quivering yellows of the forest, a deer looked up. The doe tastes a change in the wind. She slowly and nervously moved on out of the clearing toward the edge of the forest. Her yearling follows.
After many days, a new cool breeze has crossed many coastal rivers. The sweet, fresh smell of a great ocean was upon her breath. The land was hot and dry and the heat of day has been unbearable for two moons. Billowing clouds formed and lightning danced between clouds and mother earth. The sun sets behind a crimson-rimmed haze and darkness descends, but the lightening continues to flash as animals take shelter in the forest. A great storm was approaching and a grey, dark light falls upon the mountain-sides, high above the Lochsa River.
Across the steep canyon, under a bluff, a warrior chief and his son took shelter in a cave when it began to rain. The son was frightened. He sits near his father-chief for he had never seen such anger in an evening night and he had never been so high in the sky, away from the plains and valleys where hewas born, lived and learned how to to hunt. "Is the great spirit angry with us father?" he asks.
"No, " said the chief, "he is pleased. But there has been no rain for two moons, and the Great Spirit will send the land water. It may yet be too much. This is why we have camped high above the mighty Lochsa. We are safe and dry here."
"You are brave, father, and have no fear. I will try to be like you," The son walked to the cave entrance to look at the mighty Lochsa below. He saw sparkles on the water reflected from the sky flashing around them.
Across the canyon stands a great Yellow Pine. The young Indian stares at its' massive size by the light of a bolt of lightning. "I will stand tall like that great tree," he boasted, glancing back at his father squatting by their small fire as he turns several cutthroat trout on a spit.
Just then an arrow of fire strikes the tree! It hangs and dances in the air for long moments before its huge, fiery hands grasps the apex of the great Yellow Pine and locks upon it. A bright snake of light embraces the entire giant and suddenly plunges itself to the ground! A cobalt-blue halo surrounds the tree and enters its very soul. The millions of volts of electricity cook the trunk’s life-giving sap and the very blood of the tree is converted instantly into boiling steam and pressure.
The young warrior looked at his father and he sees the sign of a Great Spirit reflected in his dark eyes. He turned quickly back, just as the great fury of athe arrow’s crooked light dieds, in time to see the bark explode into the air. The boy returns quickly to his father's side and sits in silence. Trembling, he draws his wapiti blanket tightly around his shoulders. After many moments, his father slowly begins to answer unspoken questions that he senses are in his son's mind.
"If your words fly straight as an arrow to the morning sun, it will instruct you. And if this tree still stands, your heart will be good. And when the spirit of the tree passes, you will have captured its life like catching the flying eagle. The great spirit of the tree will live in you. It will bring you strong medicine. When the tree burns, it means your sons will be many, and it means that life on the mountain will not die".
The son lifts his head and the glow of the fire dances upon brown eyes. He nods about the deed in thought. Finally his father, the chief, smiles, "Here— now the fish of the Lochsa will make you big and strong and will keep you warm."
The next morning the two Indians are up at first light. They stepped outside and see the great tree in the rays of a pale, damp, yellow hued dawn. A fire was smoldering across the canyon. The tree was scarred but still unsplit and whole.
"Look father, it stands!" pointed the young warrior.
"So from today your name will be 'Tall-Tree-Standing'." The Indian chief places his large hand on his son's shoulder. "We go now, for you and the mountain, the fire of life begins."
Quickly the two Indians packed up and departed the canyon forest in a steady trot common and comfortable to Indians who have far to travel. The following night put them two days journey from their village. Under the bright constellations, clear after the rain, the young man ventured a shy question.
"How do you mean that fire is life?"
"The Great Spirit brings life to the great forest through fire. This fire is good. New seeds will dance with its spirit next spring and more the following spring. Without fire, there is no birth. In time, when you discover your new life, you must bring a gift to the great tree.
This, in due course, the son did.
| TIMETREE CHAPTERS: 1 Two Indians 2 Spring 3 His Brother The Wind 4 The First Years 5 Comings And Goings 6 Another Spring 7 The Great Meeting 8 Alone Yet Not Alone 9 Remembering 10 Tomorrow Gone Home Page |
Once Upon A Time, |
