The Legend of Tyoga Weathersby (13 page)

They passed under sharp-edged overhangs, curtained with ivy, moss, and ferns where the trail narrowed dangerously close to precipitous edges. In other places where the cost of distance and time trumped ease of travel, the path ascended steep vertical walls.

Even though Sunlei was a strong, seasoned traveler, the difficult vertical inclines required the pair to stop to rest every ten steps.

The mountain rewarded those strong enough to make the journey to the top where the trail would break into Greenwald’s Overlook, a plateau of lichen encrusted rock from which the entire Shennandoah Valley could be seen at a glance. From the overlook, it was only another twenty minutes through Hanzel’s Pass to the top of Mount Rag, fresh water, a warm fire, food, and rest.

The two reached the ragged summit rocks before sunset.

One of the highest points in the Appalachian Mountains, the top of Mount Rag is a rocky outcropping, crowned with a spherical boulder that the Cherokees and others used for centuries as a prayer rock—or odalvi. The Native Americans revered the heights for their proximity to the gods and for the unfettered view of the land—from horizon to horizon, and thousands of feet below.

For all of time, Shaman and Medicine Men brought offerings to Summit Rock on behalf of the People. They prayed for the ground to be fruitful, game to be plentiful, and peace to reign over the land. The geography of Summit Rock had a great deal to do with its stature as a blessed place from which the holy men prayed.

The concept of “oneness” is central to Native American beliefs. They considered themselves to be children of the universe—not separate, but a part of the divinity of being. The universe mirrored the People, and the People filled that universe with the innate and unique gifts of every other person, animal, plant, and thing given to their use by the great spirits. To separate or account for themselves in terms that set them apart from the natural world was a concept foreign to the Ani-Unwiya. They considered themselves a divine creation no less miraculous than the stars in the sky or the gift of the rising sun. To be closer to that divinity on Summit Rock was an occasion that required respect and reverence.

They were camping at a holy place. Tyoga and Sunlei would treat it with respect.

From each direction of the compass, except the North, three trails converged at the top of Mount Rag. The summit outcropping emerged abruptly from thick stands of pine, birch, and oak, which provided plenty of firewood. Scruffy blueberry bushes, heavy with the sweet fall fruit, blanketed the ground with a carpet of thorny woody branches. The bushes edged the summit trails with clearly defined borders, their dense growth discouraging veering from the path. The tired travelers kept a close look out for the numerous black bears that liked to gorge themselves on the calorie rich berries to fatten up before the winter snows.

Tyoga started a fire using pine needles and desiccated cones for kindling, then collected enough firewood to keep them warm and safe through the cold autumn night. Sunlei opened her de-ga-lo-di, which held their provisions, and spread a deer hide on the ground in front of the fire. Deer jerky and a mash of dried beans and corn would serve them well for the evening meal. She set the foodstuffs out on the hide, and then went back down the trail to pick some sweet blueberries.

The beginnings of a stream percolated up through the rocks and bubbled into a tiny clear pool a little ways down the trail that went to the west. Kneeling down, Tyoga filled their travelling gourd with the mountain water. His eyes wandered to the lip of a pool and he watched the first hesitant drops of water breach the wall to begin the journey to the sea. His focus silenced the forest around him and allowed him to open his mind to watch and listen.

Once over the lip of the pool the drops of water disappeared into a swampy patch of mud and moss, decaying leaves, and loamy peat. The lost drops emerged out of the ooze by adhering to the edges of a decaying branch. As if joining hands in a more determined march, the drops spilled into a pool of more resolute structure and function. Tiny traces of water of similar birth poured into the same pool from all directions. The trunk of a sapling elm dammed the down-slope edge of the pool. The water bubbled over the lip of the dam in a frothy curtain that spit and spewed in a joyous celebration of birth. The trace would grow into a rivulet. The rivulet would be joined by others downstream, and together they would form the Rapidan and the Rappahanock—and finally the Chesapeake Bay.

Slowly, Tyoga rose to his feet, threw the filled gourd over his shoulder, and headed back up to their mountain top camp. Recognizing the gift that he had been given, he became lost in thought about what the promise had revealed as he made the climb up to the peak.

A single drop of water—like a man alone—is lost in the swampy mire until hope is found in the company of others of its kind. Working together, combining strengths, resting to regain momentum, and beginning the journey anew was the course set for the water even before it emerged from the spring to begin its journey to the sea.

What does the message mean for me and my life? What am I to take away from these precious moments at the spring? Why was I permitted to see, but not given the gift of understanding? Why am I, like the drops of water, powerless to change my course?

He wondered at the aloneness that seemed to define him.

Cresting the last rise in the trail, their summit rock campsite came into view. His heart skipped a beat at the realization that he wasn’t really alone—ever.

Sitting on the deer hide, Sunlei was tending the fire and preparing their evening meal. The sun was setting to the West and, like a gossamer orb bowing in approval, the shadow of the summit rock was rapidly enveloping their campsite. In the crisp autumn air, the sun danced off of Sunlei’s raven mane with an almost blinding brilliance. Curled up on the deerskin hide, her bronze legs to one side, she reached around and placed both tiny hands in the small of her back. She arched her back like a stretching kitten, threw her shoulders back and tilted her face to feel the warmth of the setting sun kiss her delicate lips good night. Her shadow poured over the rocks in sensual undulations running from the course of the setting sun.

Stunning, she took his breath away

It was no wonder at all that the Chiefs of the tribes from the Great Lakes to Georgia had tried in vain to broker a deal with Nine Moons for his daughter’s hand in marriage to their first born sons. That no union had been forged with one of the propsective suitors was not for lack of trying by Nine Moons. Sunlei was adamant and would not be swayed. She would not be given as chattle to one she did not—and could never—love. Her heart, her future, and that of her children was with Tyoga.

Tyoga understood that Sunlei was prized by the Indian nations for more than her beauty, and that her continued rejection of powerful suitors may one day set the stage for taking by force that which they could not obtain in trade.

The temperature dropped rapidly as the sun set, and Tyoga stoked the fire into a roaring blaze. Enjoying the astonishing view of the heavens, they wrapped themselves in a single blanket to share their body heat before the fire.

There was no moon, and the stars lit up the night sky with a brilliance untarnished by the natural world. They pointed out the constellations—the same stellar patterns described for millenia by the Babylonians, the Aztec, and the Egyptians—and retold the stories they had heard dozens of times while gathered around the fire in the village’s long lodge. They wondered at the clearness of the night when the bowl of the big dipper became filled with so many stars that its outline was lost in the celestial bounty.

In the hollows below, two owls teased with gentle enticements of the carnal pleasures to be had just a short glide away.

Sunlei rested her head on Tyoga’s shoulder. She was content—and tired—and at peace.

Tyoga took her face in his hands and looked deep into her eyes. Before he had a chance to say a word, Sunlei threw her arms around his neck and hungrily drew his lips to her own. They kissed long and hard with an animal passion that had been caged for far too long. Sunlei’s tears of joy salted their kisses with an acrid tinge that electrified their tongues and prepared them in other ways for what was to come.

They had saved themselves for one another far beyond the cultural norms of the Cherokee way. Many of Sunlei’s friends were spoken for, promised, or married. Any of three understandings was license enough for couples to consumate the arrangements.

That Tyoga had not been more sexually demanding with Sunlei was a subject discussed around many an Uni-Unwiya lodge fire. But there was an understanding among the Cherokee that their ways were not always shared with the white world; and ever since Tyoga’s battle with the Runion wolves, he was allowed a degree of respect that would not permit ridicule of any kind.

Sunlei got up, threw one leg over Tyoga’s crossed legs, and straddled him where he sat on the deerskin mat. She kissed his lips, his cheeks, his forehead and his neck, but quickly returned to his mouth where their tongues could explore the mysteries of their desire. Slowly unlacing his deerskin frock, she pulled it over his head, and tossed it to the side. She stood upright and lifted her doeskin tunic to her thighs. Swaying seductively, she reached down and grabbed the hem to pull it over her head, but stopped and let it fall back into place when she heard the rustling in the underbrush.

Sunlei wasn’t a skittish camper by any means. Used to the sounds of the night, she was as comfortable sleeping in the open air surrounded by the old growth forest as in her father’s lodge. Being a seasoned Appalachian traveler, she too recognized the rhythms of the night. The danger from a step carefully placed to maintain cover concealed a threat more grave than that betrayed by the errant snap of a dried pine branch.

“Ty,” she said with a whispered urgency.

“Yeah, I heard it. Seems we ain’t alone up here,” he replied in a conversational tone incongruent with her level of concern.

She knelt back down next to Tyoga and he drew her near. Pulling a blanket around her shoulders, she nestled herself close to Tyoga’s chest. They listened quietly—not moving—barely breathing. A few yards away, behind a boulder, they heard three steps, lithely placed, seemingly meant to avoid disturbance rather than conceal presence, followed by the clumsy placement of a fourth step that slid into place rather than set.

Sunlei felt Tyoga’s body relax. She saw the tension in the set of his jaw disappear.

He had his arm around her and he shook her gently. “Don’t be afraid, Little One. Wahaya is here with us.”

She looked around hestitantly. “Where is he, Ty? Close?”

Tyoga flicked his chin in the direction of boulder and said, “He’s over there. Quiet now. He don’t mean no harm.”

Carried upon the gentle updrafts from the south, the call of a lone wolf, filled their campsite with its doleful petition. It was a long, mournful call. Pleading. Passive. Comforting in its solitude. A second wolf answered from the northwest. The cry was the same tone, pitch, and duration. It was somehow a reassuring sound—not unlike the midnight watchman’s cry of “All’s well.”

As the cries collided and echoed off of the granite parapets and along the valley streams below, Tyoga felt Sunlei relax in his arms. She understood.

“Ty, what do you think he wants? What is he going to do?”

“I don’t know what he wants,” he replied. “But he won’t hurt us. I know he won’t hurt us.”

Sitting on the deerhide with her legs crossed, Sunlei thought about his assessment of the wolf’s presence. After several minutes she said with some measure of authority, “Ty, chase him away. I want you to chase him away from here. I don’t want him here with us tonight.”

Reaching across her, Tyoga pulled a strip of deer jerky from their knapsack. “No, Sunlei. I won’t chase my brother away. He will keep his distance and guard us while we sleep. Funny though—” Knowing that her natural curiosity wouldn’t allow her not to challenge the open ended pause, he stopped.

“Funny? What’s funny?”

“He doesn’t get this close when I have someone with me. He usually stays far enough away to keep out of sight.”

Sunlei said, “Well if he is going to stay, you make him stay behind that rock.” She noticed the little smile begin to brighten up his eyes in that mischievous way that she found so endearing. She asked more than demanded this time, “Will he stay behind the rock?”

“It’s not up to me, Sunlei,” Tyoga said. “He goes his own way. He’s never shown himself to anyone but me. Are you afraid?”

“No. I was, but I don’t think that I am now. I feel … safe.”

“Shhh. Look.”

From out of the blackness, the wolf’s head and front legs rounded the boulder. He stepped into the light of the fire. The silver hairs that punctuated his thick winter fur reflected the firelight, and created an effervescent radiance that gave his body an other-worldly glow. He held his head high and erect. His stance was commanding; like an emperor dethroned, he would give no orders. His eyes were brilliantly alive, but deferential. They flashed with a reserved confidence in an as of yet untested ally. He sniffed the air and looked to the north.

He fixed his eyes on Sunlei.

His stare was so intense and purposeful that she gasped.

Tyoga’s armed tightened around her shoulders. “It’s okay.”

The wolf focused his stare from Sunlei to Tyoga.

“O-si-yo, Wahaya.”
(Hello, wolf)
“O-sti-nu-ga-wi. As-shi-no.”
(You can stay. Sit down.)

The wolf cocked his head, and looked back towards Sunlei. He took two careful steps towards them, and his whole body emerged from behind the rock. Though battered and slightly lame, he was still a magnificent creature.

Sunlei stared in disbelief at his majesty. “Ty,” she said with a tone of awe in her voice. “I had no idea. How did you …”

“Shhh. Let him be. Let’s let him be. He’s never shown himself to anyone but me before. He’s got somethin’ in mind. Let’s just let him be a minute.”