| | Granny Boo ~ The Legacy of the Puma Man | |
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Phil Whitley Four Star Member
Number of posts : 907 Registration date : 2008-04-01 Age : 81 Location : Riverdale, GA
| Subject: Granny Boo ~ The Legacy of the Puma Man Tue May 27, 2008 4:16 pm | |
| This is from the first chapter of the backstory from Granny Boo - The Legacy of the Puma Man (the sequel/prequel to Keechie. (the formatting sucks)
*******
The dream had come again during the night. The spirit being, Owl, entered his sleep and showed him the path his people must take, but Stands Alone had no idea what the vision meant. Owl had indicated a northward journey, directly into the land of his enemies. They were not enemies of his choosing, but enemies nonetheless. A hunting party was attacked again the day before by a small group of young Alabama warriors. All but one of them was killed with no losses to his experienced warriors. They had twice before encountered small bands of these warlike “Alabamas” and defeated them each time.
The lone captive warrior from yesterday had earned himself a quick and honorable death that was to occur at sunrise tomorrow morning. The 0captive had displayed courage under torture, and his final but most likely untruthful admission of the location and size of his Nation was more a threat than a sign of weakness. It had been fortunate that Still Water, the widow of one of Stands Alone’s fallen warriors, spoke his strange language.
Panther Above, Stands Alone thought, if they had known that they outnumbered us tens of tens to one, we would have ended our journey here in this desert. But he also knew that they had been afraid of having to share their hunting grounds with outsiders. If they had only sent emissaries for a meeting, they would have known we were only passing through their lands. We would have paid them for our safe passage, but their young warriors had seen an opportunity to gain status. They had made their attack foolishly and without plan against my own seasoned warriors, and they had died because of it. Now these Alabamas will be seeking to revenge their young warriors.
He looked down from the small mesa that overlooked his people’s temporary camp. Fires were being kindled and the women were preparing the morning meals. They had grown accustomed to the hardships of travel over these last few moons, and they were very efficient in the feeding of many people in a short time. His warriors had been well prepared for the attempted attack the day before.
Since their journey had begun, he had maintained scouting parties within a day’s run to the north and east of the main body of his people. They had spotted the enemy several hands of time earlier and had prepared an ambush for them. Since leaving their homeland, they had been on full alert and were on duty night and day.
Ten moons ago his people, the Muskogee, had left northwestern Mexico en masse and four hundred strong, seeking a new home where the Sun God rose each day. His first and most powerful vision had come just after the foolhardy Aztec – Montezuma - had attacked the army of the invading Spaniard - Cortez. Montezuma lost not only his own life, but most of his warriors. Stands Alone had even sent many of his own finest warriors to join Montezuma’s army as a sign of unity towards the Aztec Nation, and they died with the rest.
Stands Alone’s people had listened as he retold his vision in council. The white-skinned invaders had superior weapons, and a method of waging war not understood by the people. They did not speak with truth, but used trickery and cunning in their dealings. The Aztec were still willing to suffer at the hands of these white invaders, treating them as gods, but Stands Alone’s vision told a different story—one of suffering, slave labor and eventual total destruction.
Some began to think of him as the ‘Child of the Sun’, who had been foretold for tens of tens of generations by the shamans of their ancient homeland from across the Great Water. When he told his people of his encounter with Owl, who told him to seek the land where the sun rose each day, they listened. Then they followed him.
They were carrying a most precious treasure with them. Two summers after their arrival in the land of the Aztec, one of their hunting parties had encountered a village. They were met peacefully and were given food. They shared some of their fresh venison with the villagers, and in exchange received several baskets of a grain they had never seen.
The Aztec people called it a-chee, or maize, and considered it sacred. To the hunters it was obvious why—it made the most delicious bread they had ever tasted. There was also a kind of gruel made from it that the villagers called “Sofkee”. Every family they saw kept a pot of it simmering over their fires all day long. When anyone was hungry, they just went to the sofkee pot and filled a bowl. Sometimes they added bits of whatever meat they had for extra flavor.
They remained in the village for two days, gathering all the information they could about this wonderful new grain. They knew they had made an important discovery, but the full impact would not be evident for several years. Little did they know that this grain was the turning point of civilization in this land. It was the foundation of the first communal lifestyle. People began settling in one location, raising this crop and domesticating livestock, no longer having to depend solely on hunting, fishing or gathering wild foods.
The hunters carried enough of the maize for their leaders to taste, and their wives to experiment with in cooking, but the majority of it they planted according to the information the men had gathered. Within two harvests, they became well adapted to this new crop. All the families now had a stone metaste, used for grinding the grain into meal. They learned to use the ashes from oak fires to leach the kernels and make hominy. Sofkee was an offshoot of this process.
During the first season of their journey, they had traded some of their maize with the other tribes they encountered. But nearly every time, the other tribes ate all the maize instead of saving some for re-planting. Unfortunately, one of their affectionate names for their treasure was “The Golden God”. This was the message that spread through their chance encounters with others. Within one season, traders carried the message far and wide that the Muskogees were carrying gold, and gold was what the Spanish invaders wanted.
The Spaniards had goods that all the tribes wanted that could be attained nowhere else. Although the Muskogees had never seen a Spaniard, the invaders desired to possess this wonderful gold treasure that they were said to be carrying.
As the first rays of the sun illuminated the barren landscape, Stands Alone offered his prayers of thanksgiving for his warriors’ victory and for the continued guidance of his people. He gathered his atlatl, darts and medicine bundle and headed downhill to his people. They must leave this land soon, before the enemy had time to react. But northward? Why would Owl want us to go northward, into the land of these Alabamas, that he so badly wanted to avoid? Did he not first tell me to go to the rising sun? Owl is of the night and of darkness. The Great Sun rules the day. The Twins of Light and Dark must be playing with my souls, he thought with a chill of foreboding.
Butterfly was alternating between preparing flatbread cakes and watching her husband as he stood high on the mesa above them. She turned to the other women around the fire and said, “That is how he got the name ‘Stands Alone’ when he became a man. Even before he could talk, he would go away from the others and stand, just like that, and look at Father Sun. His mother worried about his eyes being damaged by the sun because he would stare at it until he could not see. When he went on his spirit quest, Owl came to him and became his spirit guide. Imagine that! A creature of the night for a man dedicated to Father Sun.” The other women shook their heads in amazement and joined her in watching their leader as he made his way down the mesa. They all knew the story well, but to hear it from his wife of three tens of seasons made it all the more meaningful.
Butterfly’s mother, Thorn, had been a Spirit Singer and a great healer among the people. This psychic “Gift” appeared in every other generation among her clan since First Woman, but only in the female lineage. Butterfly had learned all the woman skills from her mother, but the “Gift” was not hers.
She and Stands Alone had only one daughter, Raven, who had spent most of her time with her grandmother Thorn, learning the rituals and ways of the spirit world. She had demonstrated her Gift many times, and even once during this journey had used her gift of Spirit Singing to call game to the hunters.
Raven’s only son, Mushroom, had one older sister, Wekiwa-Chee - Little Spring of Water, who was now pregnant. It was hoped that she would have a girl child so that the Gift could continue among their Clan. Wekiwa-Chee was approaching the age when women could no longer bear children, and until now, had only had boys, who were all men now.
As Stands Alone approached the fire, Butterfly scooped a ladle of sofkee into a flatbread cake and handed it to him. He looked at her affectionately and tasted it. The sofkee was hot and he almost spat it out, but grabbed a water gourd and cooled his mouth instead. “A warning would have been appreciated, woman,” he said with mock anger. “How can I speak with my tongue burned from my head?” The women giggled as he stuck his tongue out and asked them, “Is it still there?” He called to a young boy playing nearby, “Mushroom, go fetch the war leader Tall Bones. Tell him to be quick about it. We have much to decide in the next few hands of time.”
His grandson Mushroom was filled with pride as he went to do his grandfather’s bidding. He grabbed a flatbread cake and ran off towards the war leader’s hide shelter. He was too young to be a warrior, and they had to restrain him the previous day when the men went to do battle with the enemy. He had been one of the first in the encampment to see the hostage that they brought back, and he had watched as the man was tied, beaten and tortured. He felt pity for the man’s suffering, but had also understood the reasoning behind it. Some of the other children kicked and prodded the man with sharpened sticks and firebrands, but he had not taken part in it. He had stood silently by and watched. The captive made eye contact with him at one point, and Mushroom admired his courage. He gave the man a solemn nod and walked away.
*******
(More in next post) |
| | | Phil Whitley Four Star Member
Number of posts : 907 Registration date : 2008-04-01 Age : 81 Location : Riverdale, GA
| Subject: Re: Granny Boo ~ The Legacy of the Puma Man Tue May 27, 2008 4:24 pm | |
| It was apparent how Tall Bones earned his name. As he walked toward Stands Alone with Mushroom at his side, he was still adjusting his breechcloth as he ambled along with the loping, yet graceful gait that was typical of one so tall. He was extremely lean, his muscles long and rock hard. Every bit of exposed flesh was covered with tattoos, signifying his success in warfare. “You wished to see me, Mikko?” he asked as he eyed the flatbread cakes Butterfly was piling in stacks.
“Yes, Tall Bones. But first have some of Butterfly’s cakes and sofkee. Don’t burn your tongue as I did, though. Did our prisoner survive the night?” He indicated by looking toward the staked man near Tall Bones’ tent. “He still lives, Mikko, and I promised him a quick death this morning. He is a brave one. Even his admission of the size of his Nation was more a warning than a confession.” “Good. I want to set him free. I want him to carry a message to his leaders that we do not intend to make our home here; and that we will pay for our passage through their land. We do not wish to make war with them, but if that is their decision, we will kill many of their warriors whether we are victorious or are defeated. We will ask him to arrange a meeting between his leaders and ours. I think this is why Owl told me last night that we are to go north for a time. I pray that it is a temporary diversion, and that we will soon resume our eastward journey.”
Tall Bones gave a nod of assent, and with a clenched fist, struck his chest in a sign of obedience. “I will see that he is fed well before he is escorted beyond our sentries, Mikko. Alone, they would kill him before he could get past them.” Tall Bones saw Mushroom hovering near Butterfly’s fire and called him over. “Mushroom, tell Still Water that we will once again need her services. Have her come to my tent. Oh, and tell Bright Star to bring her healing supplies to my tent as well.”
Bright Star, the old Medicine Woman, was outside her clan’s tent dropping heated stones into a large clay pot when Mushroom and Still Water arrived. With an air of importance Mushroom announced to her, “Grandmother, Tall Bones needs you right away. He said for you to bring your healing bag with you.”
The old woman looked up and nodded. She placed a bark lid over her pot and gathered up her bag. “Is Tall Bones sick?” she asked, with a concerned look on her face.
“No, Elder, I think it is for the prisoner. They are going to free him so he can carry a message back to his people.” Mushroom was about to say something more, but realized that he had just told more than he should have, since he had overheard the two men’s conversation, but had not been a part of it.
The three of them walked to where Tall Bones was standing in front of the bound captive. The man was alert and staring defiantly at the war chief, as if he expected to be killed at any moment. When he saw Still Water he spoke to her in his strange language, looked over at Mushroom, then he resumed his determined stare into the war chief’s eyes.
He asked if the boy wanted to watch to see how a man dies, War Leader, ”Still Water translated.
Tall Bones gave the man an evil smile as he drew his shiny metal knife from its rawhide sheath. It had been acquired at a great price—the lives of many of his warriors who were killed in the battle with the Spanish. The prisoner’s eyes widened a bit, but he regained his composure quickly.
“Tell him, Still Water, that not only will the boy watch, but he will be the one to use my knife.” Tall Bones handed the gleaming blade to Mushroom. Mushroom took the knife, which was nearly half his height with a troubled look on his face—a face that he saw reflected in the shiny metal blade as he held it out in front of him.
“War Chief … I can’t …” he stammered, just as Stands Alone arrived with two of his warriors.
Tall Bones gave the Mikko a carefully concealed wink, then told Mushroom, “Go behind him, little warrior, as if you are going to slit his throat. Take your time, and then cut only his ropes.”
Mushroom laughed insanely out of relief, which the prisoner misinterpreted and thought, I was ready to face my death as a warrior, but to have it taken by a mere child is too much. What kind of people are these Muskogee? For the first time since his capture, fear showed on his face, as he wondered if his souls could ever rest if it was a child who took his life.
Mushroom was so relieved that he would not have to kill the man that he played his part almost too well. Standing behind the captive he could see the expressions on the faces of his Chief and War Leader, and they were having difficulty concealing their laughter. He took the man’s hair and pulled his head back until it touched the stake. He passed the knife in front of the captive’s face, then, waiting a few heartbeats, Mushroom gave a great shout and with one slash cut the ropes. The man fell face down at the feet of the two leaders. As he tried to get to his feet, his arms failed him from being tied behind him all night. He managed to pull himself into a sitting position, then turned his head toward Mushroom and said something to him. Still Water interpreted, “He said that the young warrior needs more practice with the knife if he was aiming at his throat.”
Stands Alone was still laughing as he helped the man to his feet. He turned to Still Water, “Tell him that all my warriors, even the young ones like Mushroom here, are well-trained with all their weapons. He lives because I wish him to.” He turned to Bright Star, “Tend to his wounds, and see that he is well fed. I will meet with him later and we will talk.” As he turned to walk away he said to Tall Bones, “Guard him well, war leader. I do not want him escaping before we give him our message for his leaders.”
Mushroom stayed with the two women as they tended to the man. He asked Still Water to ask him his name.
After a brief exchange of words, she said, “His name is Lusa-Oka. In his language it means Black Water. He thanks you for not tormenting him along with the other boys yesterday, and for not cutting his throat today.”
Mushroom looked at him and smiled sheepishly, then lightly touched the raw flesh on the man’s wrists where the rope had been. He took some of the greasy salve from Bright Star’s bowl and rubbed it into the wounds. “I am Ekana-Cale,” he told Black Water. “I do not yet have my man name.”
Black Water looked at him and said with Still Water’s help, “In my language your name means Earth Fruit. Like the ones that have no roots.” The similarity of meanings between the languages was apparent. A mushroom was certainly an earth fruit that had no roots.
As Stands Alone and Tall Bones approached them, Black Water once again tried to stand. With the help of Mushroom, he got to his feet and faced them.
With Still Water interpreting, he said, “I thank you for sparing my life, Mikko Thlaco, but I think there is more to that than kindness. I will not be your slave, so if that is your plan, you may as well kill me now.”
“I have no need for a slave who would kill me in my sleep, Black Water. What I do need is for you to deliver a message and an offer to your leaders. First, tell them that we spared your life because of your courage under torture. The offer I wish to convey is this … I request a peaceful meeting with your chief and war leader. We will meet on neutral ground, and we will come with open hands. Will you do this thing for the sake of both our tribes?” Stands Alone waited for the message to be relayed, and watched the man’s expression as he listened to Still Water’s interpretation.
Black Water, although still unable to fully use his arms, made the universal signal of agreement. He struck his fist to his chest and said, “I will do as you request, wise Mikko of the Muskogee, but I cannot guarantee how my people will respond. We may have to face each other again in battle. I am but a warrior, but a warrior who follows his leader first, and his heart second.”
“Then get some rest, young warrior Black Water, for tomorrow you will be escorted beyond my sentries. We will not want to wait long for your leader’s reply.” Stands Alone turned and walked away. |
| | | Phil Whitley Four Star Member
Number of posts : 907 Registration date : 2008-04-01 Age : 81 Location : Riverdale, GA
| Subject: Re: Granny Boo ~ The Legacy of the Puma Man Wed May 28, 2008 6:15 pm | |
| I wish I knew the trick of removing formatting codes from Word documents so they can be copy/pasted here without doing what I had to do just to do those few pages - and still there are some oopsies left.
Close enough for government work... |
| | | Pam Five Star Member
Number of posts : 1790 Registration date : 2008-02-01 Age : 58 Location : Edmonton, Alberta, Canada
| Subject: Re: Granny Boo ~ The Legacy of the Puma Man Thu May 29, 2008 5:07 am | |
| Lol Brew...yes, I have had the same trouble. Maybe Shelagh can help.
Thanks for sharing this here. I enjoy your writing Phil; particularly where you weave in a bit of mischief like where the young Mushroom is going to cut the ropes and the big serious warriors are stifling laughter. :pirat: |
| | | Shelagh Admin
Number of posts : 12662 Registration date : 2008-01-11 Location : UK
| Subject: Re: Granny Boo ~ The Legacy of the Puma Man Thu May 29, 2008 5:47 am | |
| There are a couple of things you could try. You could save a word document as an rtf file and see if that works or save as an html doc. Btw, you can use this to change the editor mode: |
| | | Phil Whitley Four Star Member
Number of posts : 907 Registration date : 2008-04-01 Age : 81 Location : Riverdale, GA
| Subject: Re: Granny Boo ~ The Legacy of the Puma Man Thu May 29, 2008 8:42 pm | |
| Pam said, - Quote :
- Thanks for sharing this here. I enjoy your
writing Phil; particularly where you weave in a bit of mischief like where the young Mushroom is going to cut the ropes and the big serious warriors are stifling laughter. Thanks, Pam. I had fun writing that part. I try to follow intense scenes with something a little lighter - just before the next build-up. My idea for keeping a reader turning the pages. Thanks, Shelagh. I will try rtf next time. I even found in Word where to "remove all formatting", but it removed too much. That's what took me so long to re-format in this box. I think I coulda re-typed it just as easily... LOL |
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