Tiopa Ki Lakota Part 2

Cinksi ducked into the lodge and glanced about. The firepit was in the center, her father's robes across it and opposite the door in the respected place. Her mother was already rolled up in the robes, awaiting her man's arrival. To the right, Hca Wanahca was pulling a wooden comb through her long hair.

The younger girl averted her gaze, visually avoiding the area as she stepped over to her own sleeping robes nearby. Living in a ti ikceya with a number of people, avoidance was a common practice within. It was the only way to guarantee privacy. Respectfully, the younger girl's family returned the favor and did not look towards her as she pulled off her shirt and prepared for bed.

For a long time, Cinksi lay in her robes, her hands behind her head as she gazed up to the juncture of several logs that was the top of the lodge. Soon we will be at summer camp and there will be a Sun Dance. She thought of the men who would be attempting the Sun Dance this season.

Last season, Nupa had vowed to do the Sun Dance when he had survived a sickness through the winter. Others who felt that they needed to prove themselves to the spirits or show their appreciation for their help would do so this season. Cinksi knew of three here in camp who would be partic.i.p.ating as dancers. But none of them will be me, she thought mournfully.

While the Sun Dance was not written in stone, changing and evolving fluidly over the seasons, the one thing that appeared constant was the fact that no wicincala had ever danced. Cinksi had begun to wonder exactly what she could do should she call upon wakan tanka for a.s.sistance and receive it. There has to be some way to show my grat.i.tude. Maybe I will be able to talk the shaman into allowing me.

Cinksi drifted off to sleep, hearing the drums and songs of the Sun Dance, feeling the sun on her face as she danced, feeling the tug of the ropes where they were attached to her shoulders and back.

Cinksi awoke in the pre-dawn hours of the morning. All was silent and peaceful, the sun not yet beginning to grey the sky. She rolled over onto her side and brought her arms around her middle. Her belly ached considerably, feeling as if someone had put a rope around her and was pulling it tight. The pain came and went, cramping.

Unsure of what was happening, she worriedly considered calling to her mother, asking for the medicine man. And then a fresh cramp hit unexpectedly and she moaned a little. She rocked in agony until the pain let up.

There was moisture between her legs. Did I wet my robes? she wondered, her fears gaining ground. I haven't done that since I was a baby! Cinksi's hand delved beneath her breechclout, feeling a heavy slickness. Pulling her hand out, the embers from the firepit showed only a dark stain on her fingers. The girl squinted in the dim light, trying to understand just what the substance was. And then they widened as she understood.

I am bleeding! she thought. Another cramp hit her and she moaned again, her heart pounding in fear. I am going to die! Once the pain subsided again, she struggled out of her robes, crawling towards her older sister, to wake her, to get help. I do not want to die!

Hca was rousted from sleep by a frantic little sister. There were whispered words as Cinksi explained what was happening and that she was going to bleed to death. When the older girl comprehended the reality of the situation, she urged the younger back to her robes. "I will take care of you, mitankala , she whispered.

Cinksi did as she was told, wondering why her sister did not wake their parents, did not call the medicine man and the shaman. She watched in pain as Hca slipped her dress over her head and moved away from her bedding to rummage around in the herbal stores their mother kept.

"Here," Hca murmured as she returned. She handed her little sister a root. "Chew on this while I make a tea for you. It will help with the pain." The older girl kindly caressed Cinksi's head and smiled. "It will be fine. Trust me. You are becoming a woman now." She then moved to the remains of the fire and stirred up flames to heat some water.

Chewing on the root, Cinksi watched, frowning. I am becoming a woman? This is the bleeding time? Many questions filled her mind regarding this new insight and she resolved to ask her sister and mother about them as soon as possible. Another wave of pain hit her and she gasped and rocked.

Hca returned a few minutes later with an herbal tea to help with the pain. She insisted that Cinksi drink it all before it cooled to get the healing benefits from the herbs. Hca then gave whispered instructions on what to wear, helping the younger girl put on the necessary items to contain the bleeding. Afterwards, she held her sister's head in her lap, caressing her hair and crooning a soft song that their mother used to sing to them when they were babes.

The pain backed away and the younger girl relaxed, a weariness stealing over her. She drifted off to sleep with a lullaby in her ear.

Cinksi carefully placed the sacred bundle in the branches of a tree near the summer camp. She murmured a prayer to the spirits, asking for a vision of her adulthood before she climbed back down and settled at the base of it.

It had been a week since she first began bleeding. The camp had made it to the summer place a day later and she had spent quite a bit of time with her sister and mother. Apparently, Wanbli Zi had been informed of the new state of affairs with his youngest daughter and had stayed away.

For a while, Cinksi was worried that she would have to give up her path and become a woman, but that had not come to pa.s.s. She was taught by the women of her camp the ways of the bleeding - how to protect against the painful spirits that invaded her belly when it happened, what to do with the soiled clothing used to capture the fluid that flowed from her. Hca had eased her mind by telling her that the pain only lasted a day or so with herself, dissipating to a dull discomfort rather than the aching cramps.

And now, Cinksi was doing as many young women did with their first bleeding. Attempting a vision.

I do not see how a vision can come to me, she mused with a frown.

Cinksi was on a small hillock that had a stand of trees on it. Beneath her was the summer camp, laid out in all its splendor. The pole in the center of the clearing was where the Sun Dance would be held in two days and the entire camp was buzzing with excited preparations. From here on the southern edge the girl could see her own camp's settlement.

According to tradition, a girl's first bleeding was put into the limbs of a tree and the girl was to sit at the base for the day. A vision was supposed to come to her if she should be worthy of it. But how can I be worthy of it? The hoksila have to sit for days to receive visions from the spirits. How can the spirits deem me worthy if I am not willing to sacrifice more to achieve a vision?

The doubts swirled around in her head as she sat and watched the camp's activities.

"Wicahcala ?".

The shaman, Inyan Ceye, looked up from his work. He was sewing a small pouch made of fox fur. Before him stood the youngest daughter of Wanbli Zi. "Hau , Cinksi. Please, sit with me." He set aside his task and smiled warmly at the girl.

Gingerly, Cinksi sat to the left of the shaman and in the honored place. She frowned to herself as she considered what to say.

Inyan Ceye kept his counsel, knowing the girl needed to come to terms with whatever she wanted. He had seen her on the hill a few days earlier and had surmised why she was there. But she needs to ask for herself. She must be strong for herself.

The silence continued for some time. It seemed to grow more comfortable as the sun moved across the sky rather than distressful. Cinksi mulled over her reasons for approaching the shaman, finally speaking up. "Wicahcala , I would like to seek a vision."

The shaman nodded solemnly, his suspicions confirmed. "You did not receive one on the hill?" he asked.

Cinksi blushed and ducked her head. "Hiya , wicahcala. I did not." She appeared to almost speak, but held back.

"Tell me your thoughts, Cinksi," Inyan Ceye said. "I cannot help you if you do not."

Her face flushing further, the girl said, "I do not see why the spirits would give me a vision that way, wicahcala. I did not seek a vision as my father did or his father before him." She shrugged a little and stared at the firepit before them. "I know that I am not hoksila, but I feel the spirits would want me to seek a vision as the other hoksila have. If I am to be a warrior, that would be the only way the spirits will speak to me."

The shaman nodded with the same serious intensity. Again silence filled the immediate area as they both contemplated this turn of events. After some time, Inyan Ceye spoke up. "Then I must instruct you on seeking a vision, Cinksi, so that you might hear what the spirits have to say to you."

The girl looked up in surprise, a glow in her dark eyes. "You will help me, wicahcala?" she asked, her voice almost a whisper.

"Hau, Cinksi. Now, go. I must prepare to teach you the way."

"Ohan , wicahcala!" The girl jumped up, failing in her attempt to temper her excitement. "Thank you!"

"Do not thank me, young warrior," Inyan Ceye intoned, though his dark eyes sparkled with humor. "It is you that must be clear and centered and able to receive a vision from wakan tanka." He shooed her away, happy to see the life return to her as she ran off. It had been disheartening to see her moping about the camp this last week.

The shaman inhaled deeply and looked down at the fur pouch he had been making. It is time to smoke a pipe and prepare the spirit banners. He set the project aside and rummage around for his pipe and tobacco.

Cinksi ducked out of the oinikaga tipi , her body slick from the sweat the heat inside caused. She was wearing only a breechclout and moccasins, as was prescribed by the elders of her camp. Outside the rounded lodge, she picked up a leather bag that she slung across her shoulders and a buffalo robe. These would be the only things she would take on her quest for a vision.

It was still dark out, the coolness in the air despite the season causing her to shiver. Cinksi pulled the robe tighter around her shoulders and moved into the darkness.

Time pa.s.sed and soon the sun was high in the sky. The girl had removed the robe, not expecting to meet anyone out in the wilderness of the northern plains. Rolling hills rose around her and she considered which would be the proper place to make a stand for her vision. The warm breeze of summer caressed her back and she felt goose b.u.mps arise at the oddity. She'd been forced to wear a shirt for the last two winters. It was good to be free of it as she'd been as a child.

Cinksi finally found a hillock that felt right and began to climb. Her stomach indicated that it was now nearing dinner as she reached its summit and looked around. This will do well, she thought with respect.

She removed the pouch and set it aside with the robe. As the shaman had instructed, she began clearing a patch of ground of all life. The area was longer than she was tall and as wide as her reach. When her ch.o.r.e was complete, she gathered the robe and pouch and stepped within.

Now, she could not leave until the spirits blessed her with a vision or until she gave up.

Cinksi began saying the prayers she had been taught by the elders as she opened the pouch. Carefully, she drew out four tiny bundles about the size of her thumb. Each was attached to the twig of the plum tree and had been made by the shaman for her quest. With further prayers, she stood the twig in the ground on the western side of the cleared area. And then the southern side, followed by the eastern and northern edges. These were the spirit banners and would help protect her from harm.

Next out of the pouch was a fur-wrapped pipe, a quant.i.ty of tobacco and a few other herbs. She gathered the herbs together into a small pile and also loaded the bowl of the pipe. The final thing from her pouch was a smoldering ember that had been kept safe in the hollow of an antler and fed bits and pieces of gra.s.s to continue burning. Cinksi lit the herbs, the sweet smell of sage and rosemary filling the air around her.

Using the ember to light the tobacco, she offered the pipe to the western sky. "Spirit of the West," she called, "I am Cinksi and I seek a vision." And she took a puff of the smoke, directing the excess cloud over her head, and waited.

Nothing happened.

Cinksi wasn't sure how long to wait. She'd been told by Inyan Ceye that she was to allow some time in between requests to give the spirits time to contact her. I cannot wait too long. My ember will burn out and I will not be able to complete the ritual. She debated this for some time.

Finally coming to a decision, she turned to the east and followed the same procedure, offering the pipe, calling out a request, smoking and waiting. This was followed by supplications to the Spirits of the North and South with the same results.

The girl sighed. Of course, it cannot be easy. The spirits need to see my resolve in this matter. She decided to take the next course of action.

"Spirit of the Sky, I am Cinksi and I seek a vision."

Nothing.

Frowning, Cinksi finished the ritual. She asked the Sun itself for a vision, its flaming soul beginning to dip behind the hills as the evening drew to a close. And then she asked the Earth itself for a vision, the final and most significant request. The girl finished just in time as the coal she was using finally burned out.

She crouched down in the clearing, face down on the ground. Cinksi wrapped her robe around her and concentrated on receiving a vision from the spirits.

It was the second night, moving into the third morning. About the only truly scary time had been the wolves howling nearby, but none had approached the girl on the hill.

Cinksi found it hard to continue focusing on her desire for a vision. Especially at first, when her every thought was on food and warmth. When she wasn't asleep, she was thinking of a vision, searching the area around her for a sign from the spirits. And none was forthcoming.

The girl was feeling a little dizzy from the lack of food and water. If she did not receive a vision soon, she would have to make the choice of dying here or giving up. It wasn't unusual for someone to return to camp after a vision quest without finding what they sought. But, Cinksi just couldn't believe that wakan tanka would set her on this path as a newborn and not speak to her.

Cinksi was currently facing the east. As the sun rose before her, it happened.

The Sun seemed to flare into a brilliant white light. The girl had to squint to peer at it, one hand raised to shade her eyes. As the light faded, she could see a cloud of dust rising and feel the ground beneath her shake at the stampeding of a thousand buffalo. They were running towards her position, led by the most sacred animal of all, the white buffalo.

Watching in dazed awe, Cinksi saw a warrior woman swoop in from the south, screaming her cry as she attacked the white buffalo with a spear. The warrior's. .h.i.t was solid and the white buffalo was mortally wounded.

It seemed that the remainder of the herd simply disappeared, as did the warrior woman. The white buffalo staggered closer to Cinksi, blood pouring from its side and its nostrils flaring wide as it panted for breath. It fell just outside the cleared area and looked so real that the girl could almost touch it. The Sun flared again, and she lost the image, covering her eyes with her arm. The light faded and she looked again, only to find the white buffalo gone.

In its place was a strange woman with pale skin. Her hair was long, longer than Cinksi's, and a yellow the color of the Sun itself. Her eyes were the blue of a deep lake, still and clear. She was wearing the standard dress that all of Cinksi's women wore, buckskin and moccasins, her hair flowing freely in the breeze.

This strange apparition rose from where the white buffalo had been, blood pouring from her side where the white buffalo had been wounded. She walked gently closer to the girl staring at her in wonder. And then the woman put a hand to her wound, b.l.o.o.d.ying her fingers. She reached forward and brushed the blood onto Cinksi's face, two thunderbolts beneath the dark eyes. As the Sun flared again, the girl could see those brilliant blue eyes staring at her intently and hear the words whispered into her ear.

"Mahasanni ki .".

And then the light returned to normal. Cinksi looked frantically around for the woman or the white buffalo and found nothing. With shaky fingers, she touched her face. Again there was nothing.

Trembling, the girl gathered her pouch and robe. She needed to return to the camp, to ask the shaman to help her interpret her vision.

Cinksi sat anxiously as she awaited the verdict of those wiser than herself. Around the fire were her father, the shaman, and the medicine man. They had heard her tale and were now smoking in silence as they considered it.

It felt odd, but the girl accepted the pipe that was handed to her and she smoked with the rest, finally an adult member of the society that she'd been on the outskirts of during her childhood. It warmed her, as did the look of pride she could see from her father.

"It is a complicated vision, Cinksi," Inyan Ceye commented once the smoking was done and the ashes given to the spirits. "I do not presume to know what the spirits wanted you to know from it."

"I understand, wicahcala .".

The shaman nodded. "To see the white tatanka , to see yourself slay it.... I would think that this was your future."

Across from him, the medicine man nodded too "Hau , Cinksi. And so the rest of your vision must be your future, as well."

The girl frowned, her dark brows furrowed. "But, the pale woman? Is she my future? And why did she call me mahasanni ki?"

"It is hard to say. She is a stranger to us. She must be a stranger to our ways. But she is involved with the tatanka." Inyan Ceye stared into the flames of the fire. "And you will hurt her as you did the white tatanka."

For some inexplicable reason, Cinksi's heart twisted in sadness to hear that.

"You have had a very powerful vision, wikoskalaka ," the shaman said. "I think it is time you took a new name." He appeared to be in thought before he smiled. "You will be known as Wi Ile Anpo, as was in your vision."

The girl's father and the medicine man nodded in agreement, their faces happy. "Thank you, wicahcala," Anpo, who used to be Cinksi, responded.

Chapter 2.

Winyan Ki.

(ween-yahn kee).

The Woman.

1759.

"Push, la.s.s! Yer almost there!"

The 'la.s.s' in question panted with exertion as another contraction hit her. With a growl that was more animal than human, she did as she was bade, almost sitting up in her attempt. She was supported from behind by her mother as the midwife encouraged her.

"Good, la.s.s! I can see the head now." Ignoring the groan of frustration from the mother-to-be, the old midwife ran her hand along the distended belly. "I think the babe's about ready to have a look at the world."

"None too soon," the woman's mother spoke up, her voice reflecting her concern. She brushed her daughter's strawberry blonde hair out of the flushed face. "How are you, Rachel?"

The pregnant woman's face was a brilliant red and sweat poured off her body. "As well as can be expected, mum," she whispered breathlessly with an Irish lilt. "Though which of us is to be the more stubborn remains to be seen."

Kathleen O'Neill chuckled and wrung out a wet cloth to mop the heated forehead of her daughter. "Ye'll win out, eventually, love. Ye did with me." She brought the cool cloth to the woman's neck and cheeks. "I tried to keep ye the full nine months, but ye'd none of it."

Another contraction welled up and the woman groaned as she forced herself to apply more pressure. And suddenly she felt a loosening sensation within.

The midwife barely had time to capture the babe that abruptly chose to rush out of the womb. As she cut the umbilical cord and tied it off, the new mother slumped back into her own mother's embrace in exhaustion. The old woman smacked the newborn and the baby cried out at the indignity. She smiled and clucked at the baby, cleaning and wrapping it with a sense of a job well done.

Rachel McGlashan felt as if her entire body was made of pudding, all the energy spirited away. Without even realizing it, she dozed off through the cries of her firstborn child, not rousing until she felt the warm weight pressed onto her chest.

"Here, la.s.s. Yer daughter needs ta be fed." The old midwife smiled. "And I need ye to push one final time fer me. Must get the afterbirth out."

The new mother found herself caught up in a wave of tender emotions as she guided the hungry, questing mouth to her breast. Almost in afterthought, she bore down one more time and a mess of placental membrane was ejected from her womb.