People of the Sea(30)
He set the bowl on the bench above Wooden Cup’s head. The shell’s shiny interior glistened like a rainbow in the murky light. Opening his pack, he removed a white pebble and a green soapstone pipe. The face of Otter peered up at him from the pipe, as if probing his soul. He had carved the image long ago, on his first vision quest.
Very softly, so as not to awaken those sleeping, he began to sing.
Please hear me, Above-Old-Man.
A sacred call I am making.
A sacred call I am making.
My people, behold them in kindness.
The day of Father Sun has been my strength.
The flight of the Thunderbeings shall be my road of death. Please wake the Great White Giant from his slumber in the north. A sacred call I am making. A sacred call I am making. Asking for your Breath to come into my warm body, I add my own to yours…
Sunchaser continued to repeat the last phrase as he tamped tobacco into his pipe and used a dried leaf to shove the ember into the bowl. He puffed four times to get the smoke going, then lifted the pipe to the west, where the Thunderbeings lived. Their color was black, like the storm clouds they rode. They had the Power to destroy life.
Quietly, he prayed, “Leave this one alone, Thunderbeings. Wooden Cup is not ready to go with you yet. Her family needs her too much.” Sunchaser sucked on his pipe and blew a cloud of smoke westward. Closing his eyes, he turned to the north. For a long while, he faced the land of the snows, where Great White Giant lived. Healing Power came from him. The white pebble had been chipped from Giant’s icy foot by a brash young Trader. Sunchaser had bought it at great cost. He’d given four precious moose hides for it and had promised to visit the Trader’s village to teach the people the Mammoth Spirit Dance. He’d kept his promise and had made the journey last summer.
Reverently, he took the white pebble and dropped it into the water.
Silver rings rippled outward across the abalone shell bowl. Standing Moon bowed her head when he lifted his pipe again and silently begged White Giant’s help in healing Wooden Cup. He blew four breaths of smoke to the north.
Next, he faced east. Dawn Child lived there, wrapped in the red cloak of sunrise. She had the Power to make people see and understand the ways of Above-Old-Man. All the days of men were born of by her. “I beg you to give Wooden Cup a few more days on earth, Dawn Child. She’s been a good woman.”
He turned to face south, where Summer Girl hid in a blaze of yellow light. Her warmth caused things to grow and flourish. “Summer Girl, cast your light on Wooden Cup’s soul so that it can find its way back to her body and flourish again.” Sunchaser lifted his pipe to Brother Sky, then at last lowered it to Sister Earth. He took several more puffs while he waited for his prayers to reach their destination. Like calls shouted from far away, they took time. The sweet fragrance of tobacco encircled him, cleansing and purifying, almost blotting out the reek of sickness. One of the children lying on the bench near the door shouted angrily, as though in fevered dreams. Standing Moon went to kneel beside her and smooth the girl’s brow. Her soft voice came to Sunchaser like a mourning dove’s, cooing over the crackling snap of the leaping fire.
He took from his pack his sucking bone, a long, hollow tube crafted from the tibia of a condor. The ends had been polished and the smooth sides carefully engraved with the symbols of Power: the spiral, the sunburst, the zigzag of lightning, the shapes of clouds. Chanting, he pulled Wooden Cup’s covers aside, lifting her dress so he could place the bone against her navel and suck with all his might to draw the malignancy from within her.
Wooden Cup moaned slightly, and Sunchaser turned to spit a mouthful of saliva into the fire, where it hissed and
vanished in the leaping flames. He repeated the process at the hollow of her throat, leaving a red bruise where he had drawn out the sickness. This, too, he spat into the fire. It would be destroyed and carried away in the smoke.
Laying the sucking bone down, Sunchaser puffed on his pipe, gently blowing sacred smoke over the woman and chanting the ancient Healing Songs. Would they work this time? What more could he do?
Rising on tired legs, he rested his pipe near the abalone shell and plucked the white pebble from the water. He Sang as he sprinkled Wooden Cup’s face and clothing with the drips that fell from the stone. The water had absorbed the Healing Power contained in the-pebble and would transfer it to Wooden Cup’s body.
He heard Standing Moon’s quiet steps as she came to stand behind him. While he emptied his pipe and tucked the sacred stone back into his Healer’s pack, he said, “You must give Wooden Cup a drink from the abalone shell every morning, at midday and at night. It will help her to get well.”