Climbing Bear -
Chapter Two
One day, weeks later, I realized there was the feel of spring in the air. Black
Horse stood in the cabin doorway, looked around, looked at the sky and said,
"Spring is here. We need to get rid of the winter." I didn't know what he meant
until he started hauling everything in the cabin outside. The only thing he left
in the cabin were the things stored in the loft and the stove. As soon as
everything was out, he started cleaning, with my help of course. When everything
was replaced, he took plants dried from last summer and spread them on the
floor. "Now it smells of spring," he said, and it did.
The next day we went on a long walk, gathering plants, some added to a stew,
others eaten raw. They had the taste of spring. A week or so later, spring was
definitely with us. There were plants blooming everywhere, we had started
bathing in the pond every day and some mornings we didn't bother with a fire
until time to cook.
I was becoming very restless and didn't know why. I felt that there was
something important I needed to do and couldn't figure out what. I guess Black
Horse noticed it, but he said nothing until one day he say, "We have allowed
spring to come without a sweat".
We prepared for a sweat, which Black Horse conducted. The only thing unusual
which happened during the sweat left me puzzled. When I was seeking guidance, I
looked at the stones and saw the image of a bear looking directly at me. He
seemed to be waiting for me to do something, but I didn't know what. After the
sweat, when Black Horse and I had turned in for the night, he said, "What did
you see in the sweat, Climbing Bear?".
When I told him of seeing the bear and that the bear seemed to be waiting for me
to do something, he grunted. "Black Horse, I don't know what it means."
"What do you think it means?" He asked.
"I don't know. I have been restless lately and I can't explain that either. It's
like I am supposed to be doing something, but I have no idea what. Sometimes I
think I need to be looking for something, but when I think about it, I don't
know what I am supposed to be looking for, where to look for it, or even how."
Black Horse grunted again and then said, "Well let's sleep on it. Maybe we'll
have a vision." With those words, I could hear him turn over and soon I heard
snoring. I lay awake for much longer than usual, trying to figure out what was
going on with me. Finally I drifted off to sleep. Sometime in the night, I got
up and walked outside. The night was very clear and the stars seemed to be so
close I could reach out and touch them. As I watched, a shooting star streaked
across the sky and seemed to point to the Big Dipper--the Big Bear to most of us
Indians. A bear in the sweat lodge, a shooting star pointing the way to the
bear. Someone was definitely trying to tell me something, but the message wasn't
getting through.
I went back inside, crawled in my sleeping bag and went to sleep. I wasn't sure
whether I was awake or dreaming when I found myself in a moonlit glade. I was
dressed in a breech cloth, nothing else. I looked around slowly and couldn't
recognize where I was. Suddenly I heard the savage roar of a bear. I was very
frightened, but unable to move. The underbrush at the edge of the glade directly
in front of me parted and an enormous black bear came crashing through, headed
directly toward me. I was speechless and paralyzed. The bear was only feet from
me when he raised himself on his hind legs, towering above me, his front paws
upraised. I expected to be crushed, but he took me into his great arms, turned
and approached a very tall pine. Holding me under one arm, he used the other and
started climbing the pine. When he reached the top, he turned me around until I
was looking out over a vast landscape. I had the definite feeling that somewhere
out there was something I needed, but I didn't know what.
While I was trying to discover what I needed and where to find it, I found
myself in a place I did know. It was a spot beneath an overhanging rock beside a
small stream, a place where I had spent many hours reading, thinking and
observing. I was sitting very still, just observing all going on around me. I
was at peace. The next thing I knew I was awake. The sun coming in a window had
fallen across my face, telling me it was time to be up.
I started a fire and prepared breakfast, then ran to the pond for my morning
dip. I hadn't seen Black Horse but that wasn't unusual, he was often gone when I
got up. When I got back to the cabin, he was finishing breakfast. When we sat
down he asked, "Climbing Bear, did you have a vision last night?".
"Black Horse, I really don't know. I think I might have, but I'm not sure and I
don't know what it means if I did." I then told Black Horse about my dreams. All
the time I was talking, he was nodding. "So that's it. If I had visions, that's
what they were, but I still don't have a clue as to what they are all about."
Black Horse grunted again, then asked, "Why is the place you dreamed about, the
overhanging rock, special?".
"I guess it's because it is the one place I can point to where I learn much, so
very much. It's kinda like a private classroom."
"Black Horse nodded while I was speaking. When I finished, he said, "We know
about the bear. It's your spirit guide."
"Well, I wish he did more guiding and less making riddles."
"Climbing Bear, last spring Wounded Hawk mentioned a vision quest. You know
about vision quests?" I nodded. "You were not ready then. Now you are. Your
totem animal has called you to it and your special place has called you. Don't
think there is a puzzle. It's pretty clear."
"Now that you explain it, it is. So when do I do a vision quest?"
"When you are ready. There'll have to be a sweat, and you need to prepare
yourself physically because it is a long fast."
The next few days, Black Horse spent most of our waking hours telling me about
Indian ways, having me eat and drink until I was ready to burst, getting the
tobacco pouches ready for me to mark my questing place, and telling me stories.
One morning he sat looking out across the canyon, his thoughts seemingly far
away. Finally he asked, "Climbing Bear, you told me of your parents and
grandparents being buried and that is good for that is their way. It is not our
way, the Lakota way." He then told me the Lakota custom. A scaffold is erected,
the body wrapped in a buffalo robe and placed on top of the scaffold. "Guess you
can't do that if you are near other human beings, but it's the Lakota way." He
went on to talk about the giving of eagle feathers, the sun dance and all seven
of the Lakota ceremonies.
The next morning I told him I was ready to make my vision quest. We prepared the
sweat lodge and Black Horse conducted a sweat at noon. When we came out, he
handed me the four pouches of tobacco and embraced me. I turned and walked to my
questing place.
Black Horse told me to take my buffalo robe with me and I was glad I did. It was
still early enough in the spring for the nights to get chilly. The first night I
rolled up in the robe and slept--no dreams, no visions. The next day, I was
watching the forest around me when I got very sleepy. I curled up on the robe
and slept. Still no visions, no dreams I could remember. The second night I was
sitting on the robe, looking across the stream, watching the foxfire, strings of
light in the darkness. As I watched, I saw a woman walking toward me from across
the stream. When she reached me, she smiled and said, "Climbing Bear, my son, I
have longed to be with you, to guide you, but I was taken to the spirit world as
you came into this world. I have wept for you many days, but now I am filled
with joy. You are a man, a proud Ndee, my son." With those words, she reached
out and touched my head and my chest. "Be wise my son, be loving." As she spoke
those words, she disappeared. I curled up on the robe and slept.
I don't know whether it was the same night or if I had slept all day and woke up
the following night, but once again I was sitting looking across the stream. I
had been very hungry the last time I was awake, but this time I was not hungry,
just thirsty. I debated going to the stream and drinking--it was not forbidden,
just seldom done. As I debated with myself, I saw another figure crossing the
stream, walking toward me. When it was a few feet in front of me, I still could
not recognize it because it has been mutilated, its face all torn and bloody. As
it stood in front of me, I was frightened, then felt tremendous pity and
heartache. As I did, the figure's wounds began disappearing until the face was
whole and it was the face of my dad.
I reached out for him, but I couldn't touch him. "Climbing Bear, my beloved son,
I watch over you and I have suffered because you have lacked my guidance and
have made some very bad choices. Now you have been healed. Now you are whole.
And because you are whole, I am whole. There are many ways to be a warrior in
this world. The least worthwhile, the least proud is the way I chose, the way of
death. You have not chosen that way, but you will be a mighty warrior and I am
proud of you, brave Climbing Bear." I again reached out, trying to embrace my
dad, but he was gone.
I slept again, waking up in late afternoon according to the sun. All around me
were the sounds of the many creatures sharing my world. As I watched, a mother
bear and her two cubs came to the stream, drank and then crossed the stream. The
two cubs came to where I was sitting, sniffed me and then started playing. The
mother bear watched all three of us and then turned and walked away, followed by
her cubs.
As the bears were drinking, I was aware that I was no longer thirsty.
Later, as I watched the sunset through the trees, I thought about what my
parents had said to me. I found myself weeping both because of all the shame I
had brought to them and my grandparents and because of the love they had made
known to me, even from the spirit world.
Long after the sunset, I fell asleep. As I slept, I dreamed. I dreamed of
becoming a real man, responsible for myself, and of a great love. I knew the
great love of my life was a man, a man who understood me and who loved me in
spite of what I had been. He loved me for what I was. I could see his shadow,
but not the man himself. My heart swelled with love for someone I did not know
and had never known, I knew that. But I was comforted knowing that I would not
spend my life alone.
When I awoke, Black Horse was standing beside me, holding out a bowl filled with
a liquid. "Drink this," he said and when he did, I started laughing. When I
regained control, I said, "I feel like Alice in Wonderland who kept finding
things to drink".
Black Horse laughed with me and then said, "Don't think this will make you grow
small or tall, but it will make you feel great".
"I feel great already, Black Horse," I said as I drank from the bowl. Black
Horse told me I had been gone for five days. I was surprised.
When we got back to the cabin, Black Horse gave me things to drink until he felt
I could have solid food. I was weak, but regained my strength quickly.
It was almost time to begin planting and I was surprised when I suggested we get
started that Black Horse said, "It can wait". We spent very lazy days walking in
the woods, talking and even discussing some of the things I had read. It was a
wonderful time. I was really alive, spring had gotten into my blood. I was often
as playful as a little boy. When I was, Black Horse watched and smiled.
Two weeks, I guess, after my vision quest, Black Horse said we needed to do a
sweat. He let me do all the preparations and conduct the ceremony. That he
wanted to do the sweat at noon was kinda strange. We had done one at noon, the
sweat before my vision quest, but usually we started at sunset.
During the sweat as I was staring into the glowing rocks, I saw a face, a face I
did not know, but one which caused a strange feeling in me. I said nothing to
Black Horse about it, without knowing why I chose not to mention it.
When the sweat was over, Black Horse was sitting beside the cabin door and I was
romping around in front of him. Finally I settled down and sat at his feet. "It
has been a good year, Climbing Bear, a very good year. We are both ready to get
on with what we need to do."
"It has been a very good year, indeed, Black Horse. I will never forget it or
you, but you are right. It is time I got on with my life and what I need to do."
I sat still for a very long time, thinking about the year and about the wise old
Indian who put off dying so he could straighten me out. As soon as I had the
thought, I looked up at Black Horse. I was not surprised to see his head resting
on his chest.
I took Black Horse's body into the cabin and placed it on the table. I took a
bucket and went to the stream and brought back fresh water and washed his body.
I suspected I knew where I would find what I needed to dress him so I opened his
old trunk, the one from which he had taken my birthday clothing. Sure enough, in
the bottom of the trunk was another bundle containing leggings, breech cloth and
vest. As I lifted the bundle, an envelope fell to the floor. It was addressed to
me. I opened it and inside was an eagle feather. It was wrapped in a note which
read simply, "For a true warrior, Climbing Bear, from his spirit father, Black
Horse". Until I saw that, I had managed to hold back the tears, but no longer.
When I was finally able to contain my grief, I dressed Black Horse, covered him
with his buffalo robe and sat beside him. I guess I slept, I'm not sure, but all
through the night, spirits came to be with Black Horse for a while. There were
many and all spoke to me of their journey into wholeness under the gentle
guidance of Black Horse.
As soon as the dawn came, I took an axe and went into the woods where I found
saplings strong and straight enough to make a scaffold. It was well past noon
when I had finished it. I had chosen to build it at the edge of the forest,
overlooking the cabin, the sweat lodge and the pond in the stream. When it was
finished, I waited until the sun was setting and then placed Black Horse's body
on it. Recalling phrases from the prayers and chants I had heard from Black
Horse's lips, I sent his spirit to the spirit world.
I returned to the cabin and started gathering my things together. I wasn't sure
why, but I sensed it needed doing. I had just finished, made a pot of coffee and
was sitting outside drinking it when I saw lights approaching. In a few minutes,
Wounded Hawk's truck pulled up. I put down my coffee and walked toward the
truck. Wounded Hawk stepped out of the truck just as I reached it. As soon as I
saw him, I started crying again. He embraced me, held me close. He didn't have
to ask what was wrong, he knew. As he held me he said, "Rejoice, Climbing Bear.
You gave him one of the most wonderful years of his life, a year he would not
have had without you."
It took me a while to get control of myself. When I did, we walked to the cabin,
I fixed coffee for both of us and we sat at the table talking. I told Wounded
Hawk how Black Horse had died, what I had done, and he was very pleased. We
talked about my vision quest and my reading and thinking over the winter. I told
him I knew I was ready to go and I wasn't surprised that Black Horse had decided
it was time for him to go as well. "But I will miss him."
"We all will, but he will be alive and well so long as we are alive and living
well." Then, abruptly, he said, "I see you are packed. Are you ready to go?"
"Yes, as soon as I change." I had dressed in my Indian clothes to honor Black
Horse's spirit.
"Do you want to go tonight?" Wounded Hawk asked.
I nodded, then said, "If you can drive out of here at night".
"I can. Get dressed."
I took off my Indian dress and, while I was standing naked, Wounded Hawk laughed
and said, "I'm into women myself, but you have become one good-looking man".
"Thanks," I replied. "Now if I can just find a man--a real man. He doesn't have
to be good-looking though I wouldn't knock that."
As soon as I was dressed, we loaded my things, including two boxes of books I
especially wanted, and a couple boxes of carvings. I suggested we leave Black
Horse's, but Wounded Hawk said, "No, we'll take them. He did them for you. They
will provide some money which you will need once you leave here." When
everything was loaded, I got in the truck with Wounded Hawk and didn't look
back.
The ride out of the canyon was rough, especially so since I am sure Wounded Hawk
was driving more by instinct than sight. We had very little to say until he was
back on a paved road and could relax a bit with his driving. I was half-asleep,
I guess, when he startled me. "Climbing Bear, you have had a good year getting
yourself together, physically--and, as I said, you've done a damn good job of
that--mentally, emotionally and spiritually. How do you feel about all of that?"
"Very good. I think I learned my lessons well. Yes, I think I am in great
shape."
"Well, it's time to see. You had no alcohol in the Black Hills, you have had the
best possible mentor, so now it's time to see if you can live in the white man's
world. Maybe a few of us can live the old way, but fewer and fewer I suspect,
and I don't think you are one of them. How did your studying and reading go?"
"Very good, I think. There was not a whole lot to do during the winter, so I
read a lot. Did the whole Great Books thing. Wish I had someone to discuss them
with, although sometimes Black Horse would talk with me about them."
"I think the next step is to get you in a situation where you can get your GED
and then decide where you go from there. I have made arrangements for you to
live with a good Indian family in Winnemucca, Nevada. The husband has a great
Indian name, John Taylor. His wife is Betsy Taylor. They are a middle-aged
couple who have never been able to have children, so they take in strays I pick
up here and there. Right now they are without and I reserved a place for you. I
think you will like them--love them. Can't get you there right away, so you'll
have to hang with me a few days."
We got to Denver mid-morning after stopping for breakfast. I found everything
too salty or too sweet. Wounded Hawk noticed I wasn't eating much as asked why,
then before I could answer, said, "Right, too sweet and too salty. I should have
remembered. It takes me a long time to get used to all the salt and sugar when I
get back from time in the spirit places." He called the waitress over and
ordered fresh fruit for me. It tasted very good.
Wounded Hawk checked my clothes and discovered I had only one pair of jeans and
a couple shirts, so he took me shopping. He finally convinced me I would have to
learn to wear sneakers and maybe dress shoes. I felt like my feet were in
prison. He got me outfitted and then we went to a drugstore for toothbrush,
toothpaste, that sort of thing. Thank goodness I didn't need a razor.
Wounded Hawk said we needed to take the carvings to the shop which had always
handled them. "They sell only things made by Indians, none of the Chinese-made
'real Indian' crap and they pay a fair price." We took the two boxes of carvings
to the shop. The owner, a misplaced Hopi, looked at each piece carefully and
wrote a price for it on a pad. "Less than half of these I recognize as Black
Horse's. His carvings are always good and command a good price. The rest are
definitely good, very fine in fact. I hate to say this, but some are better than
Black Horse's. They are really good." Wounded Hawk looked at me and smiled. I
blushed.
"You will get no more from Black Horse," Wounded Hawk said. "He died a few days
ago. The others are by Climbing Bear, here. He may be able to supply you with a
few from time to time."
"I'll buy all you carve," the owner said. "At the very least, promise me first
dibs on them."
"Sure. Don't know how many there will be since I'm not sure where I am headed."
"Just promise not to forget us." He took the pad on which he had been writing
prices, used a calculator and said, "I get $3,500 for the lot. Do I need to
separate them and made two checks?"
"No, Black Horse left them to Climbing Bear," Wounded Hawk said.
The owner made out a check for $3,500 and handed it to me. It was a small
fortune. When we left the shop, Wounded Hawk suggested we got to the bank on
which the check was drawn, open an account and deposit most of the money. "You
won't get your ATM card for a several days and your printed checks will come
later. It might be wise to get a couple hundred in cash and about the same
amount in travelers checks. You won't need much money, but with traveler's
checks, you won't risk losing it all and they are as good as cash most places.
We took care of that and had to wait for the teller to get me a dozen checks
printed to last until I got my regular ones. Wounded Hawk had given the teller
my address in Winnemucca.
When we finished at the bank, I told Wounded Hawk I would like to get some
carving knives. "I have been using a couple of beat-up knives Black Horse gave
me, but if I'm going to get the kind of money I just got, I'd like a good set."
Wounded Hawk thought that was a good idea. "If you are going to keep
carving--and I don't see why you shouldn't--you need a good set, a very good
set." He took me to a fine shop which had all kinds of knives and other craft
materials. I looked at the carving sets and saw a good one that would cost me
$100. As I continued to look at it, Wounded Hawk said, "Climbing Bear, your
carving has made you enough money to get a good start in the white man's world.
$100 may look like a lot of money, but remember what it can earn you. I don't
think you want to compromise." What he said made sense, but I was a bit floored
when he selected a set of knives and proper whit stones, which cost $700. The
clerk didn't want to take a newly printed check, especially since it listed a
Nevada address. I looked at the knives and hoped I could find such a set where I
was headed.
"Is that Indian still manager of this place?" Wounded Hawk asked.
"Yes he is," the clerk answered.
"Is he around?" The clerk nodded. "Get him please," Wounded Hawk said.
It was clear the manager was prepared for a debate, but as soon as he saw
Wounded Hawk he said to the clerk, "Why didn't you tell me you had a couple of
Indians out here?". It was obvious the clerk didn't know what to do, "What's the
problem, Wounded Hawk?" the manager asked, shaking hands with Wounded Hawk.
"We have a problem here. This is Climbing Bear, my godson. He has just sold a
bunch of carvings to that Hopi down the street and would like to buy some
carving knives. He only has those instant printed kind of checks and your clerk
was reluctant to accept one. Can't blame him as Climbing Bear's address is in
Nevada. I'll vouch for the check if that helps."
"Sure, no problem, Wounded Hawk. Not much lost if the check's bad," the manager
smiled, but the smile disappeared when he saw the check. "Just to keep my scalp,
would you put your name and address on the front," he asked with a weak smile.
Wounded Hawk did and I got the knives and we left. In the truck, I opened the
case they were in and looked at them again. I was pleased that I had bought the
best because I knew that they could easily pay for themselves.