The Purple Sky Book Two: Teh-Ghut-Sa and the Clear-People

By Peter Anthony Barbieri

Peter Barbieris final novel in his trilogy continues with EMILY MADDINGs journal; in it, Emily documents PALE-MOONs narration of life in her [Pale-Moon] ninth-century Native American village. Pale-Moons connection to Emily, a woman living in the nineteenth century, enables the two women to dream-travel to each others time-band. Thus begins a celestial relationship that endures for centuries.

Emily frequently dream-travels to the ninth-century village and is present during the birth and much of the subsequent twenty-year life of Pale-Moons nephew TEH-GHUT-SA. The narration recounts the periods during which Teh-Ghut-Sa undertakes two vision quests: the first at age thirteen; the second at age twenty.

As events unfold, an imbalance in the interstellar positive-negative polarity develops. Emilyher ability to dream-travel to time-bands within the past, present, and futurereveals several possibilities that would result if the balance tips in favor of the negative polarity. If the imbalance were to progress unaltered, mayhem and death would result.

When Teh-Ghut-Sa, age twenty, returns from his second vision quest, he becomes the target of a negative-polarity plot. The confrontation's eventual outcome will affect the lives of all beings residing in the known universe. A more immediate consequence: the stream of consciousness that had given rise to the mind-consciousness of many village inhabitants would be obliterated, along with the lives of those connected to it.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Sep 26, 2016
• ISBN: 9781532004650

Peter Anthony Barbieri

Peter Barbieri received his masters and doctorate in Music Composition from the University of Colorado, Boulder. His diverse creative talents have led to careers in the field of music: composer of classical works for orchestra, small ensembles, and solo instruments; jazz pianist, composer, and arranger; and educator. Currently, Dr. Barbieri teaches jazz piano and improvisation at his home in Longmont, Colorado. Peter Anthony Barbieris first published literary work, Tales From the Soft Underbelly of Confusion, iUniverse, 2007, is a collection of short stories; these stories are contained in the present volume. Three subsequent works (a trilogy) followed: Tree of Dreams, iUniverse, 2009; The Purple Sky Part One, iUniverse, 2011; The Purple SkyPart Two, iUniverse, 2016. Dr. Barbieri has long been interested in fiction writing as a natural extension of his interest in music composition. Photograph by: Judith Glyde.

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Copyright © 2016 Peter Anthony Barbieri.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

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ISBN: 978-1-5320-0464-3 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5320-0465-0 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2016913487

iUniverse rev. date: 09/08/2016

CONTENTS

Acknowledgements

Introduction

I. Introduction—Part One: Teh-Ghut-Sa’s First Vision Quest

II. Teh-Ghut-Sa’s Entrance Into The Burial Grounds

III. Emily And Pale-Moon

IV. The Sacred Grove—Teh-Ghut-Sa’s Time With The Clear-People

V. The New Site—Part Two

VI. Eyes-Of-Two-Colours’ Mission Revealed

VII. Teh-Ghut-Sa’s Secret

VIII. The Moving Game

IX. The Celestial Mother’s General Comments On The Human Condition

X. Pale-Moon’s Plan

Afterword

BOOK TWO

Teh-Ghut-Sa And The Clear-People

Obstacles On The Noble Path

To my daughter Charol and her children

James and Anne-Marie.

Author’s Preface To The Purple Sky—Book One, The Dawning

The Purple Sky is a prequel to Tree Of Dreams. Tree Of Dreams was published by iUniverse in 2009.

I was born and raised in Hamden, Connecticut. As a young boy, I regularly frequented the Dixwell Theater, a movie house whose parking lot—in which we neighborhood kids played baseball—was across the street from my house. Cartoons, serials (usually Westerns such as Hopalong Cassidy), and two full-length features were always included in the weekend-matinee bill of fare. In those days, films having Indian content most often portrayed Native Americans as the bad guys. In fact, rarely were they shown to have compassion, insight, or any higher spiritual or moral qualities whatsoever.

At the time Europeans first reached New England shores, the land area now known as Connecticut was home to various tribes such as the Mahican, Mohegan, Niantic, Nipmuc, and Pequot. Many rivers and towns throughout New England have retained the names given to them by the Native American inhabitants of the region.

In Hamden, there lies a small group of adjoining east-west hills collectively known as The Sleeping Giant. The legend of The Sleeping Giant captivated my imagination. The following is a short rendition of the story, as I came to know it.

Native Americans knew the Giant as Hobbomock. One legend has it that Hobbomock, an evil spirit, became angry because native inhabitants treated him with disrespect. To punish these people, Hobbomock brought his foot down hard upon the earth causing the Connecticut River to change course, wreaking havoc on the region’s inhabitants. The beneficent spirit Keitan came along and cast a spell on Hobomock. The result: Hobbomock was put to sleep forever, so as to not inflict further harm and destruction. Native American culture is rife with colorful stories that explain nature’s shifting landscape. Some have made their way into this account.

When I was in my late teens or early twenties, I had a dream—or rather, a series of images presented itself. What I do remember are two, of perhaps many, frames. The central character in this dream-sequence was a Native American warrior.

In the first image, the warrior was positioned behind a large tree that stood at the edge of a trail deep within the forest. The warrior held a war club in his right hand and was prepared to strike a blow to an oncoming adversary; I, the omniscient observer, could see the adversary.

The subsequent frame was of the same image imprinted on the surface of a round coin. The date on the coin, clearly struck at the bottom and above the ribbed edge, was 861.

I’ve always wondered what possible reservoir those images, that connection came from. Until the idea of writing a novel dawned, thoughts of American Indians were consciously nowhere to be found within my day-to-day comings and goings, and I am still baffled by the persistence with which I sat at the computer—hours on end, day by day—developing, shaping, and plotting the tale’s course.

I began by researching the history of eastern-woodland tribes. It soon became apparent, however, that because of the Native American oral tradition, documentation regarding the earliest contact with these people was written by educated, Anglo-Saxon, Protestant newcomers, and was, of course, colored by those authors’ European-based worldview. One particular book, The League of the Haudenosaunee (1851), written by Lewis Henry Morgan, was the first in-depth study of an American-Indian people. Ely Samuel Parker, a Seneca chief who later rose to the rank of brigadier-general in Grant’s Union army and who subsequently became the first Native American to hold the post of Commissioner of the Bureau of Indian Affairs, contributed considerably to Morgan’s understanding of the Iroquois. The League of the Haudenosaunee serves as foundation for much of the background material woven throughout The Purple Sky.

After much deliberation, I finally decided to write a novel that was neither historically based nor culturally accurate, though much of what is contained herein draws upon what I’ve gleaned from my research. The reasons: shadings of the life and activities of Native Americans were authored by European-American immigrants; some of what has been passed down through the Native American oral tradition is, by their own admission, suspect in relation to historical accuracy. A more fundamental reason: the time period about which I’ve written is so far removed from anyone’s recollection, it would be impossible to build a story around the facts. Some of what is contained herein does reflect conditions, lifestyles, and the substance of events that are irrefutably true, but for the most part I have allowed the creative spirits to move me. The result of this endeavor is a story about people—who also happen to be Native Americans.

Morgan, Lewis Henry. League of the Haudenosaunee, or Iroquois. New York: Dodd, Mead, 1901. Lewis H. Morgan, League Of The Iroquois 9 (1962)

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Timothy Lyons, instructor in the creative writing program at the University of Colorado, Boulder, has again lent his editing expertise in the production of this novel. I am eternally grateful.

Dreams – Real Or Unreal

Emily Thigpin Madding, The Purple Sky – Book Two

Pale-Moon is not unique in this respect; we all wander through day- and night-time realities, ’tis our plight. We are all plagued by a sense of not knowing where to ‘sit’, how to rest our weary minds. From our first conscious moment, we incessantly seek to discover and maintain a separate reality that lies ‘outside’ ourselves – an external reality, one that we create from information received through our senses – not realising that each one of us has constructed a version of an external reality. We ‘see’ this external reality to be the one-and-only true reality. But what about a world without these projections, have we discovered it? Do we have a hint of its existence? Or, are we too busy maintaining our creation to realise that a world without projection even exits? If we look closely at what we call the ‘external’, we shall find there a reflection of something internal.

How do dreams fit into this melange? Is there one amongst us who can deny the part that dreams play in constructing our view of the world? Further, is there one amongst us who can truthfully deny the existence of a world that lies ‘beyond’ the one we’ve constructed? Can dreams help unravel the ‘mysteries’ created by our single-sighted view of reality?

‘I was there. In my dreams, I was actually there.’

Emily Thigpin Madding: February 1807

INTRODUCTION

It has been more than one year since I had put to paper some of my recollections of Homer’s long-ago kin, Teh-Ghut-Sa. In that journal, I described both my dream-visits to Teh-Ghut-Sa’s Native American village and my symbiotic relationship with one of the village clanswomen, Pale-Moon. Written at a time when I didn’t know Pale-Moon’s name, I had described our relationship in the following way:

My appearance, my existence in that other world is somewhat complicated and I find it difficult to render a coherent explanation. I can make no guarantees that I shall succeed in either convincing you, the reader – if one such being should ever happen across this field of thoughts; otherwise I shall permit this journal to be my confessor – I can make no guarantees that I shall succeed in either convincing you of these statements’ validity or that my explanation, as conscientiously as I might prepare the ground in order to bring forth a bountiful account, is an accurate one. Words suggest, at best, mere descriptions. As such, they represent subjective interpretations. My experiences have led me to believe that in Mankind’s pursuit of the Absolute, there is only one immutable Truth: Nothing appears as it seems, however one wishes to punctuate it.

Sitting here, quill in hand, I realize that when I am in the process of recalling mental images and re-living them, she – me, Emily, the person who is writing this account, the physical being with her opinions, theosophy, code of conduct, et cetera, et cetera – she is, at the same time, there and not there. The sensation is akin to experiencing through the eyes of another. I am, while on this preternatural voyage, absorbed into the character I inhabit. Emily’s mind and the mind of the Native American woman with whom she is bound are linked, are inseparable – yet somehow distinct.

I speak her thoughts, feel her emotions, and experience her bodily sensations; yet at the same time, I do maintain a subjective sense of my former presence – Emily’s presence.

One could, I suppose, argue the merit of such statements; I shall not deny the statements’ preposterous claim.

Perhaps I can best explain the relationship in this way:

It is as if I am here now, on the tenth of January, 1806, sitting at my desk, living a life as wife and mother – a life with a memory, history, and a fancied future – and yet I am vaguely aware of a ubiquitous presence hovering in an indefinable space; a presence that connects me to all that has been and to all that shall be. In so far as the Native American woman is concerned, Emily is her ubiquitous presence, and she is to a certain extent aware of it.

My relationship with Pale-Moon allowed me to experience, through her eyes, body, and mind, ninth-century Native American life. That initial period included the early years of He-Who-Brings-Forth-The-Dawn – Teh-Ghut-Sa’s birth-name, and the name by which he was known from birth to the approximate age of thirteen – and the life of others who were closely related to him: his mother, Spits-Like-Fire; his father, Talks-To-The-River; his grandfather, Hungry-Bear; his grandmother, Radiant-Moon; his uncle Bees-On-The-Head; and his uncle Rising-Cloud. My detailed knowledge of this particular longhouse family was possible because of the intimate friendship between Pale-Moon and Spits-Like-Fire, and, of course, because of my enchanted life as Pale-Moon.

The first journal culminated with the War-Between-Two-Brothers. The two brothers, Bees-On-The-Head and Rising-Cloud, fought to the death. As a result of those deaths, the two warring factions – the band of families that were allied to Bees-On-The-Head, and the village to which Pale-Moon and Spits-Like-Fire belonged – united and became one. What follows is a short summary of the circumstances that led to war.

The conflict had its roots in Bees-On-The-Head’s wrongful accusation that his siblings – his sister Spits-Like-Fire and his brother Rising-Cloud – poisoned the wife of Hungry-Bear’s heart-friend Grey-Eagle. After Grey-Eagle exposed the accusation as false, Hungry-Bear banished his son Bees-On-The-Head from the village. In his youth, Bees-On-The-Head had come under the spell of The Evil One, Ha-Ne-Go-Ate-Geh. As a man increasingly aware of both his deteriorating condition and the degree to which his inability to control himself would eventually result in danger to the entire community, Bees-On-The-Head devised a plan that he knew would result in his banishment. The plan was carried out with Grey-Eagle’s complicity and sanction; Grey-Eagle had been Bees-On-The-Head’s mentor from the very first day in which the symptom of Bees-On-The-Head’s illness reared its ugly head.

In due course and as The Evil One took more and more of him, Bees-On-The-Head gathered together a group of warriors, and after his body, mind and spirit had been completely divested of any sense of goodness or any bond of kinship, Bees-On-The-Head struck out to make war against his former family and friends. The war took place on a beautiful, warm, late-summer day and ended when the two adversaries – Bees-On-The-Head and his younger brother Rising-Cloud – killed each other in hand-to-hand combat.

After the war, and in support of placing Bees-On-The-Head’s body upon scaffolding amongst the other fallen warriors, Grey-Eagle revealed the ‘banishment’ plan to the council of elders saying, ‘Bees-On-The-Head was aware that he could not keep The Evil One’s grasp from destroying what little hold he had on the life he once knew. In order to protect his family and our community from death and destruction, banishment was the only solution’.

The warriors from Bees-On-The-Head’s group, including their women and children – all of them tired and hungry, for they had travelled their last few days to the battleground without an ample supply of food and other essentials – were then invited by the boy-warrior He-Who-Brings-Forth-The-Dawn to join, in solidarity, the village compound of Hungry-Bear’s people.

In this second journal, I shall resume with Pale-Moon’s narration.

PART ONE

Teh-Ghut-Sa’s First Vision Quest:

The Ancestral Burial Grounds And The Sacred Grove

The present is approximately nine years after the period in which the first journal had ended. However, Pale-Moon’s narration begins with recounting events that had taken place immediately following the ceremony for the dead warriors: those final days before the community moved to the new village. Overall, the body of the text denotes, in chronological order, all of the entire above-mentioned nine-year period, commencing with the events that took place at the beginning of that period.

I

Village Life After The ‘War-Between-Two-Brothers’ – He-Who-Brings-Forth-The-Dawn’s New Name – Hungry-Bear’s Announcement – Choosing A New Leader – Pale-Moon’s Dream Life – Teh-Ghut-Sa’s Quest

Many seasons have passed since the war in which Rising-Cloud and his brother Bees-On-The-Head fought to the death. Immediately following that dark time, we comforted all those who had lost their sons, brothers, husbands, and fathers; after three days of mourning, we celebrated The Harvest Festival and moved to our new village site. As is our custom, the new site had already been chosen and found suitable for our needs. We were anxious to reach the new site and establish our village before the onset of harsh weather.

The up-coming move was especially disquieting for this reason: the dead warriors’ family members refused to or were unable to let go of their loving memories; the deceased had, for these family members, acquired, in a most peculiar manner, a mysterious form – an ethereal life of their own, so to speak – that materialized in the village a few days prior to our departure.

This woeful state of affairs – unlike the Dance For The Dead in which the spirits of dead warriors return and join their women relations in dance – was acknowledged to have no precedent in the traditions of our people. For those of us who were outside the influence of this illusion, the concern was that family members of dead warriors had the look of a distant land in their eyes; they structured their everyday existence around the morbid and eerie almost-world that their loved ones’ spirits had seemingly come to inhabit. Mothers, wives, and daughters were seen talking to their deceased relatives, or cooking meals for them and waiting impatiently, at times uncontrollably, for their relatives’ return from the war.

There was even a group of families who had petitioned our leader Hungry-Bear to delay for one more year the move to our new village. After meeting with the council of elders, Hungry-Bear gathered the villagers under the communal canopy and explained why the journey to the new site had to be undertaken immediately: the old fields would not produce another abundant crop; more land area was needed for longhouses and crop planting in order to accommodate the newly arrived families who had joined the village compound following the War-Between-Two-Brothers. Hungry-Bear’s message was delivered in such a soft and heart-felt manner that the spell was broken. The reluctant families agreed to the move and immediately began making final preparations. Not the least of the petitioners’ change-of-mind was acknowledging Hungry-Bear and his wife Radiant-Moon’s own sorrow for the loss of their two sons.

The move was undertaken in peace and harmony.

——————

Near the end of our first summer at the new site, those families who had lost their men to war returned to our previous village, gathered the bones of their relatives that had been ceremoniously placed upon scaffolds, and journeyed to the far-away burial grounds in the west. At this holy place, the most sacred within the lands of our people, families positioned the bones of fallen warriors on the mound of their ancestors and covered the bones with earth. Families from Bees-On-The-Head’s group also buried their fallen warriors within the circle, building newly consecrated mounds; thus our two groups truly became one.

The bones of Bees-On-The-Head were allowed burial with his ancestors. Permission was granted following the council meeting at which Grey-Eagle told of Bees-On-The-Head’s long and valiant struggle to ward off the spell of The Evil One, Ha-Ne-Go-Ate-Geh. Bees-On-The-Head’s bones and those of Rising-Cloud were placed on the mound side-by-side, their skeletal arms intertwined, in hope that brotherly love, which had not blossomed in their earthly existence, would flourish in the land of The Great Spirit.

When the families returned from the burial grounds, the entire community, members old and new, gathered for a feast to honour our dead tribesmen. Following the feast, families who had lost kin called for the O-Ke-Wa, the Dance For The Dead. Women – mostly mothers, wives, and daughters of slain warriors, though others joined in as well – sang the mournful songs for the dead and danced throughout the night until the first pale light from Father Sun began to brighten the eastern horizon. The Dance For The Dead allows the spirits of dead warriors to join the women in dance. At the precise moment when the first pale light from Father Sun appears, these spirits disappear and unite with their ancestors in The Great Spirit He-Wen-Ne-Yu’s celestial abode.

Most of Bees-On-The-Head’s warriors accepted our offering of solidarity and have since become an integral part of our community. Those few warriors who did not remain with us have sworn an oath of allegiance, declaring that they would forever hold close to their hearts the bonds of brotherhood and friendship.

Stands-Tall and I (Pale-Moon) married shortly after our arrival at the new village; time together has brought every-day fulfilment to our lives. Our first child arrived during the following year’s Green Corn Festival. I had feared that my season had passed for receiving this splendid gift and had comforted myself by saying, ‘At least Stands-Tall and I have each other.’ Our daughter Laughing-Star colours each day with joy. She constantly reminds us of this glorious gift that He-Wen-Ne-Yu bestows upon His people. Laughing-Star has celebrated her eighth Green Corn Festival and is now able to help me with all the womanly duties that our rugged life demands. Our second child, a boy, died two days after opening his eyes. He came to us early and, as early arrivals most often do, left before fulfilling his life’s journey. Teh-Ghut-Sa – the new name that our leader Hungry-Bear had bestowed on Spits-Like-Fire’s son He-Who-Brings-Forth-The-Dawn – says that the boy-child had fulfilled his life’s journey. These words are most difficult for me to understand, but I trust Teh-Ghut-Sa fully and await his teachings on this heart-matter.

My dearest friend Spits-Like-Fire and her husband Talks-To-The-River bring to Stands-Tall and me as much warmth as does Father Sun. Stands-Tall and his brother Talks-To-The-River spend much time with other tribesmen, yet being with their wives is, for them, more satisfying than even going on the chase. Of course, the brothers, in their sense of humour born from the mouth of an ailing jack-rabbit, remind Spits-Like-Fire and me that the reason may also be that their legs no longer lead the hunting party, but feebly follow those of younger, more energetic men.

Spits-Like-Fire and I have truly become ‘sisters’. When the community moved to the new village, our two families decided to build our own longhouse and share our lives. Of course, we asked permission to do so; Hungry-Bear and the council granted it. And, of course, Spits-Like-Fire’s children – Su-Su, Little-Bird, and He-Who-Brings-Forth-The-Dawn – came with us and now have their own cubicles within our longhouse.

Following the second New Year’s Jubilee at our new site, Su-Su married Lonesome-Beaver; they have three children of their own now. Su-Su so reminds me of her mother; it’s as if the story has been retold without a diminishing of its refreshing highlights. After their marriage, Lonesome-Beaver moved into our longhouse. I think Lonesome-Beaver was happy to be amongst kindred spirits. Lonesome-Beaver’s family did not object to his leaving their village, as his defiant attitude in not paying tribute to The Great Spirit caused much unrest amongst his people. With Teh-Ghut-Sa’s guidance, Lonesome-Beaver has since come to understand that while he, Lonesome-Beaver, does not believe in The Great Spirit, others do, and, it is possible to honour the belief of others without surrendering one’s own.

Little-Bird has also married. She was contracted to a warrior, Quick-As-Rabbit, who had lost his wife to childbearing. Hungry-Bear, after having passed into the land of our ancestors, dream-suggested the idea to his daughter Spits-Like-Fire. Before agreeing to the marriage contract, Spits-Like-Fire asked Little-Bird if the proposal was pleasing to her. Little-Bird, unlike her sister Su-Su, was not of a mind to object to marrying someone chosen for her. Little-Bird and her husband Quick-As-Rabbit also live in our longhouse; they have two children. Our longhouse now has six cubicles, five of which are occupied.

Grey-Eagle, Hungry-Bear’s closest and dearest friend since childhood, finally achieved his wish to remarry. To achieve his goal, Grey-Eagle had first approached Spits-Like-Fire; that incident took place during the final season of her husband Talks-To-The River’s more than twelve-year absence from our community. Following Talks-To-The-River’s return to us, Grey-Eagle enquired about marrying Spits-Like-Fire’s daughter Su-Su. As the mother and the one upon whom responsibility rests for making marriage contracts for her children, Spits-Like-Fire refused Grey-Eagle’s offer; neither she nor Su-Su would agree to such an arrangement. Besides, Su-Su and Lonesome-Beaver had already formed a heart-bond. After the War-Between-Two-Brothers and the death of Bees-On-The-Head, Grey-Eagle married Bees-On-The-Head’s widow Lake-Of-Joy. They are very happy. Lake-Of-Joy has once again become the essence of all that her name implies, and Grey-Eagle has truly become the father that Lake-Of-Joy’s children never had.

Teh-Ghut-Sa – the one we used to call He-Who-Brings-Forth-The-Dawn – has seen twenty-one New-Year’s Festivals. I still have images of him as the little boy who would straddle my shoulders, tugging at my braids and speaking words that only adults knew. He is taller than both his father Talks-To-The-River and his uncle Stands-Tall. His face, sculpted and dark, is adorned with high cheek bones, a nose slightly aquiline, broad sensuous lips, and shoulder length straight black hair. His body is long and lean with a naturally prominent muscular structure. After the war, and before He-Who-Brings-Forth-The-Dawn left on his long journey into the wilderness, our leader Hungry-Bear gave him the name Teh-Ghut-Sa. Now, the entire village knows him by that name. The name signifies the ability to see the three worlds: the world of our ancestors, the every-day world, and the world that has yet to come. Teh-Ghut-Sa says that his name also signifies the emergence of a third eye. He says this third eye cannot be seen, rather, it allows him to see more clearly the inner lives of others. I do not pretend to understand these words. Sometimes I wonder if I am the only one who does not understand such things. I asked Spits-Like-Fire if she understood. She said, ‘I know the meaning of these words in some form, but I do not mean to say that I know fully the meaning’.

Teh-Ghut-Sa still lives in our longhouse, the longhouse of his mother. He has yet to marry. Spits-Like-Fire would like him to marry an older woman whose husband had been killed while on the chase. Teh-Ghut-Sa has repeatedly said that he has found someone; he is waiting for her to come of age. Teh-Ghut-Sa’s failure to be more specific displeases Spits-Like-Fire, but she is also pleased that another woman has yet to take him away from the familial longhouse – and mother’s loving eyes.

For many of us, Teh-Ghut-Sa has become a spiritual leader. I will relate the events that led to his becoming such; my spirit-body was present during the two defining periods of the boy-man’s formative years. Period one pertains to the time of Teh-Ghut-Sa’s first vision quest. Period two describes his years-later trial at the river and subsequent experience living amongst and learning the ways of the Clear-People. It is from this second period that Teh-Ghut-Sa acquired the phrases ‘Celestial Realm’ and ‘Celestial Bodies’. According to Teh-Ghut-Sa, Celestial Realm indicates the peculiar otherworldly place where the Clear-People dwell; Celestial Bodies indicates the forms taken on by the Clear-People who reside within the Celestial Realm.

The following describes the events that led up to the first period.

We moved to the new village following the War-Between-Two-Brothers and the subsequent Harvest festival. During the second coming of spring at our new site, He-Who-Brings-Forth-The-Dawn went into the wilderness on his quest; he stayed in the wilderness until spring returned. Before leaving, He-Who-Brings-Forth-The-Dawn met with our leader Hungry-Bear, the father of Spits-Like-Fire, to seek counsel.

‘Grandfather, I leave to-morrow before the fingers of light from Father Sun begin to reach across the eastern skies. I have been instructed by my ancestors to wander in the wilderness for many new moons. My lengthy absence is necessary in order to fulfil their wishes. I must go to the burial grounds of our people and perform a special task. My ancestors also say that even more time is needed to receive special instructions. They have selected a place for me to go for these instructions. They call this place the Sacred Grove; it lies far from the many wa-a-gren-ne-yuh (trails) that crisscross the land of the Hill People. This grove sits high in the hills, protected from intrusion by giant rock-people and fierce beasts. I ask for your permission to leave our community of longhouses.’

‘The period between one new moon and the next is our tradition, my grandson. Why so long? Have your ancestors said why you must be away from your people for such a long period?’

‘My ancestors have only told me that I must wander in the wilderness until next year’s maple releases its sweet water. They have also said that I must prepare myself for a sacred ceremony. Just how I must prepare myself, they have yet to reveal. This is all I know, Grandfather. Do I have your permission to leave on such a long journey?’

‘What if I say no?’ asks Hungry-Bear playfully, the way a loving father caringly chides his son.

‘I do not wish to bring the fire of anger to your eyes, dear Grandfather, but I ask you only because I do not want the elders’ scornful wrath to settle upon me when I return – like it did when my father returned from his long journey. I already know your answer.’

‘Yes, He-Who-Brings-Forth-The-Dawn, you have my permission. Thank you for asking.’

A smile passes between them.

‘When you return from your journey, I will not reside in the village of our people,’ says Hungry-Bear. ‘The days of my earthly existence grow small in number. He-Wen-Ne-Yu calls out to me. Last night, after Mother Moon’s full face had shown herself in the evening sky, The Great Spirit came to me in a dream and said, Prepare yourself; your time nears. For many years, my eyes have been seeing the brilliant, white light of clarity. Long ago, I stumbled onto the path that leads to wisdom and understanding. Now, my bones ache for the sacred burial grounds; I am ready to leave this land for the heavenly kingdom where my ancestors dwell.

‘The Great Spirit also revealed to me that from this day forward you will be known throughout the land of the Hill People as Teh-Ghut-Sa, the guardian of the three worlds. Of course, I have known ever since you took the first breath that your birth was auspicious; all the spirits – those of wind, trees, animals of the forest, water creatures, and birds – whispered of your coming, whispered their greetings.

‘I will tell our people what The Great Spirit has said. I will also tell them that I have given permission for your lengthy journey into the wilderness. I will miss you, the son of my daughter.’

‘I know all these things of which you have spoken, Grandfather. My heart will be sad when your spirit leaves its earthly dwelling place. Your forbearance and kindness during our time together has opened my eyes to the many difficulties and wonders of this worldly existence. Now I will tell you all I know about my coming to the land of the Hill People, the land of your ancestors.

‘Before I began my journey, my spirit dwelled in a place not of this land – not of sand and earth. It is a kingdom without flesh-and-bone creatures of any kind. While there, I had occasion to choose the familial longhouse that would best allow me to fulfil the many challenges that I would face during my time on Earth. The qualities of intelligence, curiosity, and strength exhibited by my mother- and father-to-be played an important part in my decision. But it was you, dear Grandfather, and your unwavering compassion and your commitment to the honourable ways of your people that became the ultimate reason for my choosing this place, this community of clansmen and clanswomen. I also knew that you, who wore the feathers of endless vision and clarity, would help guide me through the many obstacles that would obscure my view of the noble path. I am forever grateful.’

‘These things that you speak of,’ says the elder, ‘clarity, vision, and compassion, I began to feel their luminous qualities following that long, dark night during which the veil of ignorance caused me to act with vengeance towards the malcontent. Until then, I was ignorant of the place within where the voice of wisdom dwells. It was as if the voice had a tongue to speak the words but no lips to give the words meaning. Ever since that time, I have often