  The drums beat slowly. A cloud of sadness hung over the Iroquois village. People moved slowly about their tasks. Even the pets of the village seemed to have lost their playfulness. The little children were playing quietly at sitting games, rather than the usual noisy running games that they liked so well. As Little Rock, a young Iroquois warrior, rode into the village with a dead buck slung across his pony, he became suddenly aware of the great feeling of sadness that was upon his village. Instead of hearing the usual gay greetings from the people of the tribe, Little Rock noticed that when he looked at them they would shake their heads and turn slowly away. Little Rock feared that great trouble had come and wanted to know what it was. So he dug his heels into his pony’s sides and sped toward his father’s wigwam. As he drew near, he saw a number of people gathered close to the entrance. The drums boomed slowly and sadly. As Little Rock came nearer his friend, Little Red Cloud, stopped him. “Wait, Little Rock!” his friend warned gently. “Do not go to your father now. The Medicine Man is with him.” “What is the trouble with my father?” “Do not worry, Little Rock. Great Rock is a great and strong Chief. He will be all right.” “As my friend, Little Red Cloud, I ask you once again. What is the matter with my father? It cannot be so simple, when half the tribe gathers outside the entrance to my father’s wigwam. They usually come to talk or seek advice, but now they are silent and their faces are sad. Tell me, Little Red Cloud, what is wrong?” Little Rock could not wait for an answer. He jumped from his pony and ran swiftly toward his father’s wigwam. He was met at the entrance by his mother. “Wait, Little Rock! Do not come in yet. Tall Spear is making medicine for your father. He is very ill.” “I must go to him. He may need me.” Just then the Medicine Man joined Little Rock’s mother. “Your father is asking for you, Little Rock,” the old man said. “You can see him now.” Little Rock stepped inside the wigwam and found his father lying on the great buffalo robe, his head propped up. Great Rock’s face looked drawn and tired and he breathed with great difficulty. As Little Rock knelt beside his father, the sick man’s eyes opened wide. “My son, you have returned.” Great Rock spoke slowly as though each word pained him greatly. “Did you have a good hunt?” “Yes, my father. There was much game and I was able to bring a really fine buck back to our village. He will give us much fine meat, and his skin will make you a fine shirt.” Great Rock closed his eyes for a few moments while Little Rock, his mother, and the Medicine Man waited anxiously in silence. Then Great Rock opened his eyes, wet his lips, and started speaking with great effort again. “That is good, my son. You have learned the ways of the forest well. This was your first trip alone into the great forest, yet you have tracked down a fine buck.” The old chief seemed more tired than before. Little Rock reached for a bowl of soup near by and spooned some of this to his father’s lips. The old man started to sip the soup slowly. Then he raised his hand weakly. “My son, your father is old. Last night this sickness came upon me. I feel that the time is growing near when I shall journey to the Happy Hunting Grounds. I have raised you to be a warrior in our tribe. I have taught you the way of the bear and the way of the fox. You will have to be the man of the family now and provide for your mother.” “But, my father,” said Little Rock, “you must not leave us now. Our tribe and all the Iroquois need you now more than ever before. There is trouble among the tribes. Soon the Great Council will meet. If your seat at the Council is taken by one who is not so wise, the trouble among our tribes will continue and become greater. You must get well, father, for much depends upon you.” “There are others as wise, my son. My voice is but a small breeze in a big windstorm. The men who lead our tribes are wise in the ways of peace. They will make good decisions. Of that I am certain. But now leave me, my son, for I wish to be alone. I am tired and I must rest for the final journey.” “Yes, my father, I will go now, but it is not to pine and weep, as the others do. I know you will get well. Tall Spear will make strong medicine. I have no fear.” Little Rock left the wigwam and, without saying a word to anyone, he mounted his pony and rode swiftly from the village. For many hours he rode until it was nearly dark. Then he stopped his pony in a pine grove. Leaving the pony to graze, he walked deep into the grove until he came to a place where an opening in the trees allowed the last rays of light to stream in. Under the spreading branches of a great pine tree, Little Rock knelt and started digging with his knife to root up some plants. When he had gathered a handful of roots, he arose. He walked toward a stream and near it he picked some berries from a bush. He dropped the roots and berries into a small leather pouch and rode back to the village. He thrust the pouch into his mother’s hand and asked her to brew the roots quickly in some fresh water. When the broth had been bubbling for a short time, Little Rock grasped the gourd from the fire and carried it toward the wigwam where his father lay ill with fever. As he approached the wigwam, Tall Spear stopped him. “Little Rock, what is it you carry in the gourd?” the Medicine Man asked. “Many moons ago, my father and I traveled deep into the forest. Finally we came to a large pine grove. Deep within the pine grove, my father pointed out certain roots and berries that grew there and nowhere else near our village. He told me that those berries and roots would make strong medicine for anyone sick with hotness of the skin. When I spoke with my father, I remembered those roots and berries. I thought that a broth made from them might save his life. So I have brought them to his wigwam.” The Medicine Man grasped the gourd and was about to turn away when Little Rock seized his arm. “Make him drink, Tall Spear. Tell him this is broth made from the plants in the pine grove. He will understand and he will drink.” “I will give him the medicine and I will tell him. You have done well, Little Rock. Your respect for your father’s wisdom is very great.” With that the Medicine Man disappeared inside the wigwam, and Little Rock sat upon the ground to wait. Soon Tall Spear came out again. “Your father has sipped the broth. He told me to clasp your hand as he would in thanks for bringing the roots. He is resting now. All we can do is wait.” As time went by, Little Rock became drowsy and soon could keep his eyes open no longer. As he fell asleep, the old Medicine Man took his blanket and wrapped it around the young brave’s shoulders. A new day was dawning as Little Rock awoke. He looked quickly toward the entrance of the wigwam. Suddenly Tall Spear appeared, his face looking cheerful. “Your father is asking for you. He is weak but he will not die. He will sit at the Council soon to decide for peace. Go to him and go with your head held high, for you have much to be proud of this day.” Little Rock entered the wigwam and hurried to his father’s side. At that moment his father reached out his hand and Little Rock bent down to take it. The eyes of father and son met in silence. No words were needed to tell how much more closely their lives were tied together. Tall Spear stepped quickly outside. It seemed only a moment to the men inside the wigwam when they heard the voices of their Oneida brothers speaking loudly and happily again. |
|
