Pt 2
They were both surprised at this poetic turn of his. Although in his mid-twenties, he had not had much contact with young ladies; he found them frivolous. He preferred to be in the forest, with the animals. He hunted in the old way, the way of the Native people; apologizing for taking the animal's life, only killing when necessary for food, and only trapping to exchange for what he needed.
"Tell me about your mother," she said.
"I'll start with my father, and my grandfather -- who was a Scotsman. There were clan wars, between my ancestors, the mountain Highlanders, and the Lowlanders, who raised the longhaired cattle. But when the English soldiers came -- they were truly brutal! They took over our lands, and they violated our women. When we protested, they killed off our men, and burnt whole villages."
Little Dove knew about that.
"My grandfather Gillespie and his brothers worked their way across the ocean on a clipper ship, from Scotland to America, in search of freedom. It was shortly after our war of independence from England, our Revolution. They landed in New Orleans, long before it became the Louisiana Territory. New Orleans was full of pirates, ruffians and thieves at the time, and the slave-trade was flourishing -- something offensive to my grandfather, who did not believe that one person could own another. The brothers established the Black Hawk Trading Post in Georgia, in Cherokee country, and Grandpa later moved to Mississippi, where he homesteaded some land.
Along the way he visited in villages of the local people: the Natchez, the Choctaw, the Creeks, the Cherokee. Some of them were what they call the 'five civilized tribes'; highly intelligent people who live in harmony with the natural world. The Cherokee would 'sing up Grandfather Sun' every morning, helping him to rise until the White People laughed at them, and they stopped doing it. Now they greet the Sun quietly, those that still do."
Little Dove's eyes grew wide, as she listened to these words. She did not know of these people he spoke of, but some of their ways were akin to her own.
Long Bow paused, amazed at himself. He was not accustomed to speaking more than a few sentences at a time, and he often spent months in the forest or on the plains talking to no-one but the animals, the birds, the trees. But it seemed important for him to tell her his story.
"Grandfather preferred the company of these people to the ones from Europe, where there had been powerful lairds, serfs, and not much in between, save the tradesmen.
"Many of the folk who came to this country were those who were released from prisons across the sea. That way the gentry could get rid of the 'undesirables', the criminals; and get them to do the hard work of building a new land. But the ruffians brought their evil ways with them. Instead of learning from those gentle souls who dwelt here already, at peace with their world, they killed off anyone who got in the way of their greed for gold or for land. The Native people of the South of Turtle Island are being moved forcibly from their sacred lands, such as the Great Smokey Mountains, and others, to a barren place called Oklahoma. It is thought to be worthless land. This removal has turned into a death-march. The People are calling it the Trail of Tears. Thousands have died along the way. The Seminoles, led by Chief Osceola, have fled East to hide in the alligator swamps of the Everglades, where the white soldiers cannot get them. They would rather die than surrender. My grandfather Gillespie married a Cherokee woman. Some of the Tsa-LA-gi, as they called themselves, had lived in log houses for decades, and they showed him how to build one. They helped him plant corn, cotton, beans, watermelon and other things that grew abundantly there in the rich soil beside the rivers in Mississippi, on land that he cleared. He raised a family, and they thrived. My father married a Choctaw-Cherokee girl. I have four brothers and two sisters. My father, half-Scottish, insisted that I learn the ways of the White Man -- it was important for survival, he said, to know how to deal with them. So I studied at their school. But my mother taught me the most important things: How to bring the rain, or send it away. To see the Light in all beings, knowing that we are all One. How to listen to the Ancestors, and to speak to the Star Nation."
A shiver ran through Little Dove's body, as this man who sat beside her quietly spoke these words that touched a chord deep within her. The drum-beat of her heart changed to a faster pace, as it began a sacred dance. She knew that there was something very special about this man, this meeting. A quiet joy filled her heart.
"Look deep into my eyes," said Long Bow, "and tell me what you see." He turned to her and took both her hands into his. Again, a shiver shot through her.
She hesitated. She knew that the light of a person's soul could shine through his eyes, and it could be too strong. A person could be controlled in this way.
Still -- she looked. They stared deep into each other's souls, beyond the beyond. She saw them journeying together; higher, higher, back to the beginning of time. She saw them both on a star-ship, looking down upon the globe of earth; seas rose; and islands, continents, disappeared, re-appeared in different form, and then were gone again.
Now Turtle Island formed; Florida forming one leg, Baja California another, its tail going down south into the land of the Olmec, the Toltec and the Maya, its arms reaching northward. They stood on the ship, with the Wise Ones in council, and agreed to come back in human form to help to heal the rifts that were forming on Turtle's back.
Their reverie was shattered by a harsh voice calling out, an angry voice.
"EMMA GRACE!" they heard. "You come here this instant! I‘ve been looking all over for you: I thought you'd fallen into the river and drowned!"
Grace was startled. She jumped away from her companion as they sat on the grass. It was dusk; perhaps Mrs. Gray had not noticed their hands had been touching.
She was not accustomed to being reprimanded. She had never done anything to call for it,
"I will marry you if you'll have me,'' said Long Bow in a low tone, as Little Dove got up and walked away from him. She hoped that this had not been overheard.
"Forgive me, Ma’am,'' she said with dignity. "We were watching the boat with the big wheel, and the gentleman was telling me his ancestor-story; about his grandfather who came from a place called Scot-land."
"He's not a gentleman, dear; he’s a woodsman. And there were several gentlemen who were asking after you -- even officers! -- with you looking so lovely in your long dress, and your ribboned hair. But you were nowhere to be found! Land sake!"
Emma had high hopes for her daughter. The girl was 16, but that was certainly marriageable age on the frontier. Native people, in tune with natural cycles, would have paired off even earlier,
"One gentleman was particularly dashing," said Mrs., Gray. "A Cavalry Officer. I told him that our ancestry was French, and was Spanish on your father’s side -- that my husband was descended from a Spanish Conquistador."
"Mercy!" Mrs. Gray exclaimed. "What did you do?"
"I had been taught to be brave, but many were the tears that rained upon the earth, and onto the body of my mother. I implored Great Spirit to allow me to follow the spirit path of my mother, Turtle Woman, and of the people of our village. But the spirit of my mother appeared to me, and told me to be strong, to have courage: That one day all would be well, and that I had an important mission in this earth-walk. I was to bring understanding between peoples. To bring love.
"I could not believe she meant that I should go among the feared Wasichu, killers of my people! I did not know then of people like you, who have a tender heart.
"My mother, Turtle Woman, was a Holy Woman of our tribe, a healer, honored and loved by all. She was always praying for The People, doing Blessing Ceremonies."
"But what happened to you?" Mrs. Gray asked.
"After three days, my uncle came and got me. My mother's spirit went to her brother and told him where to find me. He took me to two wise Elders high in the mountains, and they taught me the ways of The People. They told me that I would be captured, but I must allow it -- because the blood, the spirit, of my people must continue. For one day, the child of my child's child would return, to share our teachings of Oneness -- of honoring all life -- with the Rainbow People, the ones of all Nations, all colors, at a time when it would be needed."
Mrs. Gray was without words. It was a lot to take in. Finally she said: "Why have you never told me these things?" She dabbed at her eyes with her embroidered handkerchief.
"I did not think they would interest you. You did not seem to think that what happened to ‘pagans' was of importance. And I did not wish to hurt your heart. You have taken me as your own daughter, and you have shown me many kindnesses. I do not forget this, and I am grateful."
"My dear, dear little Grace," Mrs. Gray said. "How strong you were to keep your sorrow to yourself. We have been worlds apart, and you never let me know!"
The Captain's wife gained a great deal in understanding that day.
A month and a half later Captain Gray was sitting at his desk in the parlor looking over some reports when a knock sounded at the door. As the womenfolk were out in the kitchen preparing dinner, he rose to open it.
A tall young man stood before him. He wore a short gray top-hat, a high collar with a wide black bow-tie, a double- breasted coat, and trim grey trousers. He removed his hat.
"Good evening, sir," he said respectfully. "I've come to call on your daughter."
The Captain was surprised.
"I wasn't aware that you knew my daughter!" he replied.
"Yes, sir. We met at a dance. "
"Ah -- of course. Do come in."
Little Dove looked up from where she sat at the kitchen table, shelling peas. She could not see who came in -- but she sensed a special energy.
"I wonder who that is," said Mrs. Gray, "and if we need to set an extra place." Grace seemed to have a special glow, she thought; a secret smile. Interesting. Perhaps it was that trapper who came to call. He was the only one she'd shown any interest in. But how would she know it was him?
In the parlor, the Captain was looking him over. "Seems to me we might have met before, but I can't place where?"
"I am George Gillespie, son of Robert, of Clan Gillespie of the North of Scotland. My father owns a plantation down in Mississippi, at the junction of the Yazoo and the Tallahatchie rivers. Many acres planted in cotton, corn, beans, melon... A large house, and many small cabins."
"Slave quarters, I expect."
"For the field-hands, yes."
Mrs. Gray wiped her hands, took off her apron, smoothed her hair, and went into the parlor. Grace followed.
"Why, good evening! And who might this be, Captain?"
"This is Mr. Gillespie, dear. He was just telling me about his plantation, in the state of Mississippi."
"My family's place, sir."
"Indeed. You've a familiar look to you, George; it's haunting me," Captain Gray mused.
Gillespie glanced at Little Dove, who of course knew him immediately. She smiled. 'He certainly doesn't look like an Indian,' she thought! 'But then, neither do I. We’re both pretending. We wear masks, like ceremonial dancers.'
"Yes, sir, Captain; we've known each other. I used to hunt, to supply meat for the regiment. And scout some."
"Long Bow! Of course! Didn't know you, all trimmed up and dressed like a gentleman! You kept our company from hunger, many a time, and helped us find our way through the pass when the blizzard came. Saved our hide, you did. The men always spoke highly of you. Honest, quick-witted and dependable, they said. Knew your way around the wilderness."
Well, this was an interesting turn of events! -- thought Mrs. Gray. He looked respectable after all.
"And what brings you here, Mr. Gillespie?" she asked.
"I’ve come to call on your daughter, Ma’am."
"You'd like to court her?" she said.
"I'd like to marry her. With your permission."
"Oh, dear! My lovely daughter... You wouldn't be taking her away, would you?"
....She joined Long Bow at the circle of stones that he had prepared, praying, with a sprinkle of tobacco, as he placed each stone on the grass. Invoking the Spirits of the place to join them, he called them in, with rattle, drum and song, honoring all the beings in turn.
Little Dove was thrilled to be part of such a traditional ceremony once again! Though her husband's tribe was from the South, he had dwelt among the People of the Plains as well, and he knew their language and their ways.
They entered the circle from the East, where he had placed a yellow stone -- to represent the morning light; beginnings. In the South, a red stone, representing the blood of Mother Earth; growth. The West -- black. Sun-gone-down; a time of vision, dreaming. To the North, the direction presided over by the Sacred White Buffalo, the place of the Elders; wisdom.
On the center stone, the altar, Long Bow had placed his chanupa, his Sacred Pipe. Unassembled, it lay still in its fringed and beaded pipe-bag, with a pocket on the outside for a tobacco pouch, and an antler-tip, to tamp the tobacco down with. Little Dove laid her Medicine Pouch next to it, containing her sacred things: Small bones and feathers from the claw of an eagle; tobacco, for offerings; a crystal given her by Oldest Grandfather, who had taught her how to use it. "You place it inside your head-band," he had said, "in the center of your forehead, when you go into vision -- that you may see more clearly what Spirit is showing you. And it will make stronger the loving thoughts you send out to the children of Mother Earth. It has great power; you must use it with wisdom."
Long Bow lit a bundle of sage and cedar, placed it in a large shell (representing the waters of the Great Mother, from which the world was birthed), and they cleansed themselves with the purifying smoke. He wafted it first toward himself, that he might be pure; then toward her, with strokes of an eagle feather. This would protect them from any malevolent spirits. He then lit a strand of braided sweet-grass, to call in the friendly spirits, for Blessings.
He sat cross-legged upon the ground. Holy Ground, for they had consecrated it. Long Bow took tobacco and put it into the red pipe-stone bowl of the chanupa, which he had carefully fashioned into the head of an eagle. Each carved feather was clearly delineated, and the spirit of the eagle was present.
....As they came around a bend in the path, she cried out in delight: "Oh! A tipi! The lodge of my people! How good it will be to lie upon Mother Earth again!" He had erected it while she was preparing their meal.
Inside the tipi, they stood facing each other for a moment, and then he took her gently into his arms. He could feel her body trembling. He stepped back, and held her face between his hands, drinking in her exquisite beauty. Being 10 years older than Little Dove, he had had experience of man-woman things, but he knew that she had not; that she had only had years of being repressed, in her time since coming of age. He would be very gentle with her.
Untying the thongs at her shoulders, he slipped her dress down over her arms and let it fall to the ground. She stepped out of it, as he removed his shirt and leggings, but still wearing his breechcloth.
He guided her to a soft pile of furs, and laid down beside her. Gently, his hand caressed the length of her body; he softly kissed her forehead, eyes, cheeks, mouth, throat; then her breasts, her stomach, and down her legs. He kissed her toes before he began his progress back up the length of her trembling body. He suckled her breasts like an infant, and was caressing her hips, which began to writhe involuntarily. Every nerve ending of her body came alive at his touch.
"What is happening?" she cried out. "Why do I shake like this? I do not understand!" Her wanting seemed to have a terrible intensity.
"It's all right, beloved one. It is our time of coming together. Becoming One." He removed his loincloth -- and it seemed that they exploded into each other!
His many years of alone-ness, and hers, were ended.
After the first frightening thrust, their love-making carried her to great heights of ecstasy. The fireworks took them out among the stars -- she was sure she could hear the wings of hummingbirds, eagles, or perhaps angelic beings! They made love again and again, until the golden fingers of dawn's light crept into the opening of the tipi at the top, and under its sides, between the poles.
