grey buck-the destiny of a yaqui chief
DESCRIPTION
Short Native American story.TRANSCRIPT
Grey Buck – The Destiny of
a Yaqui Chief
By: Charles Roman
(C) 2011 Charles Roman
ISBN9781456591625
Book Cover by Barbara Roman
To my mother, Frances
Aguirre Roman Jimenez,
a Yaqui Princess!
A grateful thank you to my
loving and forbearing wife
Barbara for all her help in
bringing this story to print!
Message from the Author:
This short story is meant solely for
pure entertainment. There will, no
doubt, be critics who will
perfectionisticly disagree with some
form of the story. And yet, there may
be those who may catch one of my
many mistakes, being a self-published
author. I however, welcome any
feedback you have. Please email me
at [email protected] with
your comments. Thank you!
INTRODUCTION
It was at Santa Ana College in
California, while taking a class in the
American Western Frontier, that I
learned the startling statistic that the
American Cowboy‟s actual history
only lasted 30 years. Yes, thirty years!
Alas, he was displaced by the
railroad. It was quicker to load horses
and cattle onto rail cars than it was for
cowboys to herd them through the
Wild West. It is also amazing,
however, to think of how Hollywood
continues to keep this bit of history
alive by drumming up stories to feed
our starving, adventurous
imaginations; of how the exciting
world of this fascinating figure may
have been as he sat around a camp
fire chewing on beef jerky while
drinking coffee from a hot steel cup.
How we dream to live the life of John
Wayne living on our own spread out
in the open with miles and miles of
virgin land between us and our closest
neighbors, building our own home
cabin, cutting down our own fire
wood, and hunting for our own grub.
The story about Grey Buck is
really no different. It is much the
same as a Hollywood movie. There
are many things in the story that are
true; such as the Yaqui people leaving
Mexico and settling in Arizona. And
some of the things mentioned such as
doing the Deer Dance are part of the
Yaqui culture. But for the most part,
they didn‟t live in teepees or have a
dispute with a California waste
company. Even though the Yaqui
people are historically a resilient
people who withstood oppression by
others, they are mostly a free people
who live peaceably among themselves
and other nearby tribes.
May the Great (Holy) Spirit grant
us peace with all men!
Chapter 1
He was born along the Yaqui
River on a blistering winter morning.
His mother lay resting alongside a fire
in a nearby teepee as his father, Great
Eagle, wrapped him up in a warm
buffalo blanket and carried the
newborn infant to the river‟s edge. He
had waited for his son‟s arrival a long
time and after his birth, Great Eagle
had prepared a simple alter of oak
branches and twigs. He laid the baby
on a woven blanket made of brilliant
colors of purple, green and red. Then
he took two small branches and
rubbed them together until they got
hot and pressed them against dry,
green, pine leaves till a fire started.
Today was a holy and special day to
him. It meant he was to be serious
minded and everything he did now
had to be done right.
As a small flame began to kindle,
he put a pot of water on to boil so that
he could clean and purify his newborn
son. This was a day of dedication, a
day to name his son, so he picked him
up then went to his knees, closing his
eyes, prayed to the Great Spirit in the
Sky for a name. He soon was
distracted by a soft wind blowing his
fire out, so he rose and gathered
bigger branches to keep the fire going.
He looked down the mountainside to
see if any other tribal members were
awake but there was no one stirring.
His teepee was situated above theirs
so that he could have the vantage
point of seeing and watching out for
his people. He also chose this site
because it was up against a massive
rock wall that cut down the wind
during the winter months. The only
breeze felt was one that came along
the river. But the rock mountain being
on one side of the river and huge
sequoias on the other, protected his
teepee from heavy winds and kept it
secluded.
Great Eagle was a towering figure
at seven feet. His skin was smooth
and soft as adobe and yet he had the
athleticism of a tiger. He was gifted
with an appearance that was noticed
and respected by anyone who saw
him and he had the physique of a true
warrior. He was like his father Wise
Owl in many respects who was the
chief among our Yaqui people, for we
settled in Arizona long ago to escape
slavery from the Mexican
government. The Yaqui are a
surviving people as Chief Wise Owl
was a surviving leader. When his
father, Wise Owl, had vanished, the
tribal leaders quickly and
unanimously elected Great Eagle to
be their Chief. It was an election
without contest since many of the
tribal members had looked up to
Great Eagle when he came of age and
many of the elders had said for some
time that it was his destiny.
Knowing that everything had a
reason and purpose, Great Eagle sat at
the river‟s edge quietly praying and
waiting for the pot of water to boil.
Slowly he noticed a layer of fog
beginning to glide along the river. His
attention had been distracted too
many times and he began to get angry
at himself for his lack of devotion, so
this time he swore he would keep his
eyes shut and concentrate on his
prayers. As he did so, he heard a
sound as if it came out of the nearby
forest. He refused to open his eyes,
not wanting to have his sacrifice be
rejected by the Great Spirit in the Sky,
so he started to chant and sing praises
to his God and exercise discipline. He
felt the mist of fog around him now so
he wrapped the baby so that he
wouldn‟t get cold or wet and kept him
close to him so that he could give him
body warmth. Yet Great Eagle sensed
as if he was being watched or as if
someone was nearby. Suddenly he
opened his eyes and standing before
him was a magnificent and grandiose
buck. The creature was awesomely
built with a majestic set of antlers. His
eyes were wild with terror and he
stood nose to nose with Great Eagle.
The buck breathed on him a blast of
breath, and then made a loud call like
the sound of a trumpet. Great Eagle
kept his eyes tightly closed and was
shaking on his knees in horror of the
dreadful beast. He opened his eyes
again and noticed the buck was still
standing there. Then one of its antlers
grazed the right cheek of Great Eagle
and he started to bleed slightly. Not
knowing what to do, he closed his
eyes waiting to see what the buck
would do next, but when he opened
his eyes again, the great creature was
nowhere in sight.
Great Eagle saw that the water had
started to boil, so he took a cloth and
dipped it into the water and began
cleaning his son. Cautiously he
looked around again but did not see
the buck anywhere. During all this
time the child had remained quiet,
proving in his mind that he had
received an answer to his prayers. As
he dried his son, he noticed a speck of
blood coming from his son‟s hand. He
remembered the blood that was
dripping slightly from his cheek and
he mixed it with the boy‟s blood.
“This day I make a covenant with
you my son.” He said to himself.
“Today I call you Grey Buck after the
visitation of our friend from the
forest.”
The proud father kissed his son
and lifted him to the sky. The baby
soon began to cry.
“Ok my son. You‟ve had an
adventurous beginning,” his father
joked. “It is time for you to get some
sleep. We need to make one visit
before you rest.”
And so Grey Buck was born, the
very image of his warrior father and
after the tradition of our native Yaqui
people.
Chapter 2
I was speaking to my love Soft
Dove when I heard him running
towards our teepee. I knew what had
happened and I knew he would come.
“White Cloud! White Cloud!” He
yelled excitedly.
I opened the entrance to our teepee
and motioned for him to come in for
the cold chill of the morning was
starting to hurt my eyes.
Soft Dove got up from the fire and
took the child from Great Eagle and
softly bounced the boy in her arms.
“He looks exactly like his father,”
she said. “It looks like we have
another Chief on our hands.”
“Yes,” I replied, “Looks like we
are going to have to sacrifice him.”
Great Eagle looked at me in
horror.
“What?” He asked me.
“Yes,” I said. “We have too many
chiefs and not enough Indians!” Both
Soft Dove and I broke out laughing as
we tried to break the tension Great
Eagle was feeling.
Little did Great Eagle know that
Soft Dove and I were holding in our
bosoms the reality of what happened
to his father and mother, Wise Owl
and Light Feather. We cried for days
but didn‟t tell any other tribal
members because Wise Owl made me
swear that if anything happened to
him, we were to take care of his son,
which I would have done anyway
since Wise Owl was my brother.
When my brother and Light
Feather had vanished, it was as if they
had never been born, as if they never
existed. Wise Owl was a wise leader
and although we lived on rich soil
next to the Yaqui River, our territory
extended out towards the Arizona
Forest and westward towards a
wasteland that bordered the California
State line. Even though we never had
problems with the white man, still
Wise Owl set sentries to watch our
borders because he still didn‟t trust
them. One day an American company
from California sent a truck of
chemical waste onto our land and
dumped their entire truckload. The
sentries were so use to not having
seen anyone for years that they were
busy hunting, working or farming.
Then Johnny Lightfoot saw a
reflection from a truck‟s rear view
mirror and he came running to see
where the light came from. When he
saw the truck leaving he tried to run
down the hill to catch up to the truck
but by then, the truck was gone. All
he could see was the name of the
company written on the side of the
truck. The sentries were sworn to
secrecy and were told if they ever saw
anything, they were to come to Wise
Owl privately.
That evening, as we were getting
ready for our tribal meeting, we were
suddenly told it was canceled. No one
knew why. Some had seen the sentries
come into camp and wondered why
they weren‟t at their posts. Soon
rumors spread around camp that
something was wrong but no one
knew what was going on. But I knew
because I was there when Johnny
Lightfoot told Wise Owl what had
happened. He gave Wise Owl the
name of a company called Chemical
Waste Management.
I had never seen my brother mad
with rage before but when he heard
the news, he clinched his right fist in
show of anger.
He looked at me and said to be
privately, “I think I better visit this
company privately, maybe me and
Light Feather in the guise that we are
going to a regional tribal meeting.
Let‟s go see where they have dumped
this waste. I want to see this for
myself.”
When we approached the area
where the truck came onto our
reservation, we saw another truck just
leaving the very same area the other
one dumped its load. Wise Owl was
furious and pulled out a Winchester
from out of the side holster of his
horse. He pointed it at the tires then
thought better and hit one of the
taillights.
“That should send them a
message.” Wise Owl said.
Chapter 3
There was a great murmur in camp
as days passed by without any word
of Wise Owl and Light Feather. The
last time we saw them, they were
leaving our reservation in their Ford
Truck. Now the Tribal Leaders started
to get nervous. They could not explain
to our people what had happened to
our beloved leader. My cousin Loco
Joe was causing a ruckus by asking
everyone if they knew where Wise
Owl was but I knew he was probing
in hopes of becoming the next Tribal
leader if something happened to my
brother. Finally, I called a Tribal
Meeting to discuss what action we
should take. They advised we call the
Regional Lawyer and have him visit
this California Company. When the
lawyer for Native Americans
appeared a week later, he said there
was bad blood between Wise Owl and
the CEO for Chemical Waste
Management. The CEO didn‟t take
too kindly to Wise Owl‟s barging into
the middle of his Board Meeting, then
pointing his finger at him and asking
him why he crossed into sacred
Native American land and desecrated
it with liquid contamination. The
CEO said he didn‟t know what he was
talking about but said he would
investigate whether it was true or not
and if it was true, he would have it
cleaned up. That was the last of their
conversation according to the CEO.
“Could he have been going
somewhere else?” asked the Regional
Lawyer.
“No…no, that‟s the only place he
planned on going.” I replied.
As the Tribal Council was talking
to the Regional Lawyer, a tall young
figure walked into the meeting. I was
amusing myself because the Regional
Lawyer kept staring at him as if he
had seen a god or something. He
stopped and looked over to me to ask
me who this young man was.
“This is Great Eagle,” I said. “He
is the son of Wise Owl.”
Great Eagle squatted down in the
circle and passed the peace pipe to
Dana Kingsberry. Little Una sneaked
into the meeting and ran into Great
Eagle‟s arms. She loved him
immensely but he told her she needed
to wait outside until they were
through with business. Little Una was
the jewel of the whole tribe. She had
long black hair for a young child of 7
years. She wanted to cry but he made
her promise to be a brave girl and he
would go see her first thing after the
meeting. So the little child nodded her
head yes and ran outside. Then he
looked over at the Regional Lawyer.
“The Anasazi tell me a biker gang
owns this Waste Management
Company,” said Great Eagle to the
Regional Lawyer. “Even my friends
from the north, the Navajo tell me
they have run into problems with
them. They have not cleaned up their
waste from our land. I think we need
to visit this company and ask about
my father and if they say they don‟t
know, then bring them to an
accounting. We need to ask them why
they haven‟t cleaned up our land.”
Everyone in the Council agreed
until Loco Joe interjected his views.
“Maybe we should have a
Powwow first,” he said “and ask the
Great Spirit if something has
happened to Wise Owl. Perhaps
something has happened along their
journey. We could end up wasting
time going in the wrong direction.
They might call us the “Where the
heck aw we tribe.”
Everyone in the council laughed in
agreement.
“What do you think young
brother?” Loco Joe asked Great
Eagle.
“This is excellent council,” replied
Great Eagle. “This will give me time
to gather our red brothers from the
other tribes in the area. They may
even wish to come with me to visit
this California Company. Tonight I
will do the dance of the Deer. We will
hunt our prey until we find an
answer.”
I snickered at Loco Joe‟s
suggestion but still it gave me time to
think about what to do. Great Eagle
had already made up his mind on
confronting this company. Because
we dismissed the Council near sun
down, we decided to have the pow
wow the next night.
When I returned to my teepee, I
told Soft Dove everything that was
said in the Council meeting and what
was planned for tomorrow. Then I
told her I was very worried about
what to do and that I wasn‟t hungry
because the dead heat of summer and
the uncertainty of not knowing about
my brother Wise Owl had taken my
appetite away. So I had some fresh
water and lay down to sleep. My
dreams were very disturbing. In my
dreams I saw a great white owl fly
into the clouds. Then the clouds left a
whole but reformed slowly. Then the
owl did the same thing over and over
again. In my dreams I wondered what
this meant. After this I was walking
outside in the cool of the air of the
Arizona forest when the great owl
returned and came out of the sky and
landed several feet in front of me. He
looked down the path and never
looked my way. As I walked towards
the great beast, he started to fly ahead
several feet again. I began to realize
that this was a sign the great bird was
leading me somewhere.
Soft Dove woke me and said I was
perspiring and talking in my sleep.
“You have been asleep for a short
time,” she said. “I know what you
have been dreaming about and I have
had the same dream. I have prepared
the horses, water and bread for our
journey.”
“You had the same dream too?” I
asked.
“Yes,” she replied. “And we better
leave while it is the cool of the night.
We won‟t last out in the California
desert during the dead heat of the
afternoon.”
Chapter 4
Directly above us the moon cast its
soft light on the trail leading towards
the Arizona forest. As we entered the
forest we heard the sound of an owl
coming from within its depths. We
knew we had no time to waste. Where
we were going and why we did not
know but we both felt something
driving us, urging us. The Jesuit
Priests taught us long ago what it says
in the good book, “Abel‟s blood cries
out from the ground.” We both had a
hunch of foul play in the back of our
minds but possibly the vision meant
something else. We descended along
the path till it lead us to the open
expanse of the border. Here we
stopped and I “whooed” like an owl
two times. Then we heard the sound
of a hawk in the distance. We waited
then we heard a voice from out of the
darkness;
“Who is it?” said Johnny
Lightfoot.
“It‟s me White Cloud and Soft
Dove,” I replied.
“Uncle I knew you were coming”
Johnny replied. Before I could explain
to Johnny what had happened he
interrupted me.
“Did you get a vision about an owl
Uncle?” He asked.
“Yes” I said.
“Then you need to go.” He said. “I
had the same dream and you don‟t
have time to waste.”
So we continued to descend down
towards the border till we came to the
valley of the California desert. We
were a half hour within the border
when we came to a dirt road leading
north or south.
“What‟s wrong?” Soft Dove asked.
“I‟m waiting for our friend,” I
said, “the owl.”
We waited for a few minutes but
there was no site or sound of the owl.
We were going to give up but Soft
Dove suggested we head out in the
direction of the California Waste
Company. This was an excellent idea.
“I‟m glad to see that after all these
years my wisdom is rubbing off on
you.” I joked to Soft Dove.
“I just hope your Alzheimer‟s
doesn‟t rub off on me,” she torted.
We laughed and quickly headed
south on the dirt road. As we went on
our way suddenly we heard the sound
of an owl behind us. Soft Dove and I
looked at each other being puzzled as
to why the owl was behind us.
Knowing time was running out, we
turned and headed in the direction of
the owl‟s call. Every time we thought
we were getting close to the owl, we
lost sight of him and then he would
hoot ahead of us and we would pick
up his trail again. We followed our
spirit guide until the dirt road came to
an end. It was here that tears began to
flow from Soft Dove‟s eyes.
“This is Muerte Point,” she said
sadly. “No one ever comes here. This
area gets hotter than Death Valley and
the earth melts into sand because of
the fierce anger of the sun.”
As she uttered these words, I
remembered the story she told me of
her younger sister disappearing years
ago. Young Doe was only 5 years old
when she vanished but they found her
remains in this area and Soft Dove
mourned for her ever since. Now Soft
Dove took the lead down a side trail
as if she were in a trance, her focus on
a mound of sand in the distance. No
trees or brush could survive the heat
in this forsaken and barren land. I
could smell the wet sand from the hot
water that dropped from the sky. The
moon was particularly brighter
because of it and when we came to
this mound of sand our hearts sank in
deep sadness when we saw protruding
from it, the rear bumper of my
brother‟s Ford truck. My heart told
me it was his. I didn‟t have to uncover
the sand to know he and Light Feather
had met foul play. While I felt grief
over my brother‟s end, I was also
comforted in knowing that the
mystery of his death was now known.
I was also very angry at what had
happened and knew who was to
blame and I swore to myself that I
would get vengeance some day. To
me it all made sense. The truck was in
the opposite direction of the chemical
company and too close to the
reservation as if it was an accident.
But I knew better.
Both Soft Dove and I gathered
some sand and tried to cover the truck
up as best we could. Why?...we did
not know. Even though I had no
evidence or proof of who did this
cruel thing, my spirit guide was a sign
that the Great Spirit was telling me
something different. For the sake of
the tribe we felt it was wiser not to
mention what we had discovered or
we could have a war that could wipe
out our people. On the other hand, I
had to think about what to do about
Great Eagle. I knew he was not about
to sit still. He was ready to cut
someone‟s head off especially if he
found out what had happened to his
brave father.
We held each other and took time
to thank the Great Spirit for guiding
and giving us the revelation of what
happened to my brother and Light
Feather. We didn‟t have to say
anything to each other about how we
needed to head back before we
became prisoners of the desert. We
mounted our horses and began the
assent back home; her grieving over
the remembrance of her sister, me
grieving over the loss of my brother.
Chapter 5
Although Great Eagle was chiseled
in the likeness of his great father Wise
Owl, he in no way inherited his
patience and wisdom. Wise Owl was
a master planner and would study
birds, trees or even the wind to see
what he could learn. He was learning
all the time. When there was a dispute
among tribal members, Wise Owl said
he would resolve their problem as
soon as he planted some seeds in the
ground, and after the seeds sprouted
one foot high, he would have an
answer. It would be several months
later when the seed sprouted and by
this time tribal members had learned
to solve their differences on their
own. This was the wisdom of Wise
Owl. He had hoped tribal members
would see themselves as one people,
helping each other survive, not
enemies who fought with each other.
Great Eagle, on the other hand, grew
impatient as days went by. His
warrior blood began to boil everyday
when there was silence concerning his
father.
“Why don‟t you go peacefully
with a delegation of different tribal
members to this waste management
place?” suggested Running Deer,
Great Eagles wife, “All of our people
see the anger in your spirit and you
are as restless as a caged tiger.”
Running Deer sat at the other end
of their teepee. She had a white shawl
over her long, shiny, black hair and
she was wrapped in a purple blanket
holding young Grey Buck.
Great Eagle said nothing. He took
one of his enormous bows made of
polished redwood and checked its
strength by pulling on the string made
from horse‟s tail. With his back to
Running Deer, he started to look at
the different types of arrows he had to
check their pointed tips. Great Eagle
was too preoccupied with carrying out
a plan he had already conceived in his
mind than rather listen to his lovely
brave wife. One by one he inspected
the arrows decorated in different type
of Yaqui figures, symbols and colors.
As he did so, he put them in a leather
quiver carefully laying them in one by
one. Along the side of the leather bag
were pockets in which Great Eagle
put darts of ducktail tips dipped in
poison. Great Eagle checked the
weight of his warrior‟s bag and felt he
could add a club made of shinny
silver and a throwing knife made of
tough steel. Running Deer was busy
tending to Grey Buck to mind what
Great Eagle was doing. Finally, she
took the child and lay on some
blankets with the child next to her.
Soon the sun would lay its bright orb
under the blanket of the western
horizon. A change was in the wind
that would affect our culture and our
history.
Chapter 6
One by one my people gathered to
the open field on the eastern end of
our reservation. I had come early
because I was the overseer and
coordinator of these special events
and I wanted to make sure the Great
Spirit was pleased with our offerings.
To us, presenting ourselves before the
Great Spirit is like believers getting
dressed for church. We come with
respect for our God, but unlike people
of faith, we come dressed in our
special gifts. Warriors come dressed
as Warriors, women with gifts of
giving bring produce gifts from the
earth and those who are gifted with
weaving colorful patterns of fabric,
wear their colors for display and
praise to our God.
It was near dark now so I had
some of the young men light the wood
at the center of the field. I warned
them sternly that it was their job to
always look after the fire and never let
it go out or the Spirit, who is a
consuming fire, would consume them.
They never believe me until I tell
them the story about Moses and the
burning bush. Luckily, the Jesuit
Priests were good for something.
Then they become quiet. Then I had
some of the youth clean the track the
tribe will dance on with tree brush.
We set up a table for jugs of water,
sweet herbs and hot apple cinnamon.
We also placed freshly baked Indian
bread, corn, figs, bananas and various
types of fruit so that we can celebrate
after the pow wow. Along the outer
ring of the circle facing east, I situated
the musicians. Many had come early
with their instruments and were
waiting for my instructions. I
positioned the drummers next to each
other and next to them I placed the
chatters and the rattles. There is a trail
that leads to this sacred ground and
along the trail are poles I had the
young men light up with torches so
that the whole tribe can find their way
in the dark. Since the tribe has to
make a small climb up to this area,
one can see the trail of lighted poles
leading from here to the main village.
The main fire at the center of the ring
was billowing with bright flames so
that the whole area lit up like a bright
light. The drummers started beating
on their drums and started chanting
the “Warrior Chant.” Many of the
tribe members had gathered now as it
became pitch black despite the flames
intensity. As they waited for our
leader, many of them started to dance
and chant in place, not moving but
mostly getting warmed up. Everyone
waited for a good half hour as the
flames began to subside and the
crowd began to get restless. Then out
of nowhere came a loud shout and
Great Eagle appeared out of nowhere,
jumping into the midst of the crowd.
The members were startled and yet
they were also excited as well. Great
Eagle was crowned with immense
deer antlers as he led the progression
with the Deer Dance. In his right hand
he held a long spear the length of his
enormous frame. He was the tallest of
our people. In his left hand he held a
tomahawk dipped in blood. The
Fariseos, dressed in black and
representing evil, try to prevent the
Deer from advancing. Dana
Kingsberry is dressed in all black and
tries to butt the Deer but Great Eagle
slays him and the others with his
spear. The Pascolas, in respect for the
Deer and in celebration throw flowers
in the path of the Deer and at the
crowd. Other Warriors follow the
Great Deer in the Deer Dance, dressed
in various animal colors and features.
Some wear masks while others wear
war paint. They sang this muse of
praise to the Great Spirit in our Yaqui
tongue as they danced:
“O Lord our God how perfect are
your ways
O Lord our God how perfect are your
ways
Perfect in your righteousness
Perfect in your holiness
Perfect in your awesomeness
O Lord our God
O Lord our God.”
The women followed wearing
outfits of fine fabric in the Yaqui
tradition, dancing and chanting. Some
of the elder tribal members do not
dance but sit at the western edge of
the circle as a sign of respect for
them. Sometimes we have a flute
player play a muse. The whole tribe is
in harmonious movement, chanting
and yelling victory. Everyone is
dancing in the Pow Wow circle
celebrating the Yaqui culture and
spirit of our people. After Great Eagle
makes a full circle, he will sit down at
the north end of the circle, we call the
head of the circle and wait till all of
the members have danced and
worshiped and offered their sacrifices
to the Great Spirit. Then they will
begin to sit down in front of the seat
of Great Eagle and wait for him to
speak a word to the whole tribe. The
Elders decided not to call on the other
local Tribes tonight because they
feared the situation would escalate
into something bigger than was
necessary. They decided to keep it
internal and personal with the regional
governments help.
At the end of the Deer Dance, all
the members sat facing Great Eagle as
he stood up at the north end of the
circle. He lifted up his enormous
spear to the sky and cried out in a
loud voice:
“Oh divine Spirit. Hear our plea.
We ask for justice for our leader Wise
Owl. You bring rain so that our crops
can grow. You bring sunshine to
strengthen our spirits and lighten our
paths. Our brothers the Jesuits taught
us that in your word “Vengeance is
mine.” So we know you will answer
and avenge the mystery of our great
leader‟s disappearance.”
All of the members rose and
shouted in agreement. Afterwards, all
the members made their way to the
table for fruit and drinks while the
older members went to their teepees
being exactly midnight.
Chapter 7
It was late the following night that
I received word from one of the tribal
elders that Great Eagle was missing.
No one knew his whereabouts. Some
of the elders met in the village
questioning each other but no one
knew anything. I decided to pay a
visit to Johnny Lightfoot to see if he
knew anything but when I got to the
outer end of the reservation, Johnny
was missing too. Another sentry, Big
Bear Frank, was manning Johnny
Lightfoot‟s post. I would rather have
Big Bear Frank there instead of
Johnny because he was probably the
only one in our tribe who could stand
up to Great Eagle in height and
stature. He was a huge brave. But I
could understand Great Eagle‟s
thinking. He may need someone who
could move like lightning and Johnny
Lightfoot was the fastest of our
people.
“Big Bear,” I asked as I
approached him at the outer part of
our reservation. “Where is Johnny
Lightfoot?
“Uncle” he replied. “Great Eagle,
Dana Kingsberry, Johnny Lightfoot
and the loco brothers went to the
Waste Management place to talk to
the owner and ask him about Wise
Owl and Light Feather. They should
have returned by now.”
I didn‟t have time to get mad at
Big Bear knowing he could not do
anything but do what Great Eagle
said. For a while I just stood looking
towards the west, watching the sun
descend, hoping for the best but
expecting the worst. Finally, I decided
to call the tribal leaders to tell them
that I discovered where Great Eagle
had gone. They were all silent but
concerned. They too were helpless in
doing anything for it was our tradition
not to meddle in the white man‟s
affairs. In the back of their minds I
suppose they were thinking of Wise
Owl and how he disappeared. We all
were dumbfounded and speechless.
None of the tribal leaders said
anything, even Loco Joe. Finally we
decided to just wait till we heard
something from Great Eagle himself.
As several days passed, Big Bear
spotted several horses approaching
the reservation at noon, two white
women both with long, white hair. As
they came to the entrance of our
reservation, they dismounted their
horses and sheepishly approached Big
Bear. They didn‟t know what to
expect from us as they trembled,
asking him if he would take them to
there Chief. I imagine anyone who
didn‟t know Big Bear Frank would
shake like a tree since he was a
towering figure but he was as gentle
as an aged bear and just as friendly if
you knew him. Big Bear didn‟t say
anything but motioned for them to
follow him. So they grabbed the
reigns of their horses and followed
him on foot till they came to our tribal
hut. One of the young braves came
running to my teepee to tell me the
news. I told him I would go to the
tribal hut shortly.
“What do you think they want?”
asked Soft Dove.
“Well,” I replied. “Hopefully they
have news about Great Eagle.”
“I fear the worst,” said Soft Dove
as tears began to fall down her
cheeks.
“I feel that you are all too right my
love.” as I held her in my arms and
tried to consol her. “I must go and
inquire about Great Eagle.”
As I entered the tribal hut, the two
ladies quickly rose to greet me. I
could tell they were afraid, never
being on Yaqui land before and not
having any sense of how they would
be greeted. They seemed to have
embraced the notion that all Native
Americans were savage beasts. So I
quickly approached them and shook
their hands.
“Welcome to our Yaqui land.” I
told them right away trying to make
them feel less fearful. “My name is
White Cloud. Please be seated.”
“My name is Mary Beth
Williams,” said the lady who seemed
to be the outgoing one. The other
woman was very shy and quiet.
“We have come to bring news
about the Indians who we believe are
from your tribe, the tall brave whom I
heard was called Great Eagle and the
others.”
“Yes,” I assured her. “He is our
Chief.”
“Well, Mr. White Cloud. I am the
daughter of the owner of the company
that your Chief visited. And I came to
tell you that a lot of what happens in
my father‟s company is wrong.” She
stopped to get her breath and was
struggling to continue.
One of our women came in with
fresh water and a basket of fruit. I told
her to pour our guests some water and
put some fruit in a bowl.
“Please go on.” I encouraged her.
“You have nothing to be afraid of
here in telling me the truth about our
Chief.”
“Well,” she labored but continued.
“My father is a crooked man.”
“So your father owns this Waste
Management Company?” I
interrupted her wanting to know
clearly.
“Yes,” she said. “He lets my
brothers run the company and they are
a motorcycle gang who only like to
cause trouble. When your Chief
appeared, there was a biker‟s get-
together going on with bikers from
every state gathered that day. I was in
the front office when your Chief came
in and asked my father about the
whereabouts of his father. My father
was drunk with alcohol that day and
he was braver than normal and so he
became belligerent and asked your
Chief what he was talking about. If it
weren‟t for all the bikers who had
showed up that day, he probably
would never have been so bold but he
knew he could do whatever he wanted
that day because of so many of them.
My brothers got word that there were
Indians in my father‟s office and they
stirred up the bikers. They stormed his
office and tied up all your people with
chains.”
The woman started to cry and put
her face in her hands. Then she
proceeded to tell me how they
dragged our people on the dirt behind
their motorcycles. Then they let them
go and kicked them as they lay on the
ground helpless, bloody with their
skin torn from being dragged in the
dirt and rocks. They took Great Eagle
and put him on a cross the way they
did the Great One and threw rocks at
him, mocking and making fun of him.
She continued, “One of your people
got away somehow. Although he
could run fast, one of the bikers shot
him with a rifle as he tried to escape.
“I…I was struck with horror,” said
Mary Beth. “I couldn‟t believe what
my eyes were seeing. I wrote a letter
to the Director for Native American
Affairs and even tried to wire
everyone I could but I couldn‟t wait
for a response. I had to come and tell
you myself”
“I think I need to report this to our
Regional Lawyer.” I told them.
“Where are the bodies of our people?”
I asked.
“I‟m not sure,” said Mary Beth
“because we were taken away to my
father‟s house outside the company
premises to keep us from knowing
anything, me and my younger sister
Linda Sue here. But I couldn‟t take
the lies and dishonesty and had to
come and tell you what happened.
This was cruel and completely
wrong.”
“I cannot tell you how grateful I
am for your honesty and concern. I
and the Yaqui people are very
thankful that you have come to share
what you know with us so we can rest
knowing the truth of what happened
to our great Chief. It is a long journey
back to your home. Please remain the
night with us as our guests.”
“We would be honored,” said
Mary Beth.
I called one of the lady elders over
and told her to ready a teepee for our
guests for the night and to tell the
women to prepare water and food
also. I told some of our young men
who are good with horses to clean
them and give them fresh water and
food for tomorrow‟s journey. The
women who are in charge of cooking
made the preparations while I told
another one of my personal assistants
to tell all of the tribal elders to meet at
the tribal hut when the sun rises.
Chapter 8
In the morning, I asked Mary Beth
to recount what she told me to the
tribal elders. There was much sadness
when she spoke of the horror that
befell Great Eagle and the rest of our
braves. It was probably in the back if
their minds that this tragic event again
touched our people, echoing what
happened to Wise Owl.
We thanked Mary Beth and Linda
Sue, telling them they were always
welcome to visit and that they have a
place of honor in our hearts and
among our tribe. We lavished them
with gifts of turquoise beads and
woven Indian clothing. We gave them
plenty of water and food for their
journey, which we suggested they
leave early sunrise to avoid the sun‟s
wrath. I sent an escort with them to
the California border to report to me if
they were being followed.
A few days later, the Regional
Lawyer appeared with the bodies of
all our brave men. All of the tribal
members assembled around a large
wooden wagon being pulled by two
black mules. Quickly I gave the order
to my assistant to gather as many
young men as possible and start
digging for our braves. All the tribal
members followed the wagon as I
directed the driver to take the bodies
to an open field not far from where
we have our pow wow. There we
would say our respects for our
brothers and hold a quick gathering
and prayer before we lay the bodies in
their burial ground. As the wagon
came to a stop, many of the members
were mourning with their heads
dejectedly downward. I could sense a
wave of shock and humiliation among
my tribe. We were again a people
without a leader. I was the one the
tribe elected leader if things like this
were happen. But I was growing old
and soon we would need young blood
to take over. Grey Buck was only a
child and he would need time to
simply grow before he was even
considered a leader, besides we
needed to see if he had any Chief
blood in his veins.
Running Deer came to the wagon
and gave out a loud cry, moaning
heavily. Many of the women
surrounded her, trying to comfort her,
joining in with her weeping. Soft
Dove took Grey Buck when Running
Deer approached the wagon. Many of
the young men started to chant as the
mood began to swing to more of a
pow wow service. But the chant was
short lived because the somber spirits
prevailed. As we ended our chant, we
huddled around the wagon and I
started to pray to the Great One for
our brave and fallen brothers. I was
very aware of the feelings of our
people but as I prayed I started to
break down and cry when I
remembered Great Eagle running to
our teepee when Grey Buck was born.
He looked up to me for everything
and now he was gone. My tears
turned to anger as I prayed that the
Great Spirit would some day give us
revenge. The revenge I sought for
Wise Owl did not come and now I
had to live with the sudden death of
Great Eagle. Hope put off made my
heart weary. I prayed that I would not
go down to my grave until I saw the
justice due my people. I could sense
the younger braves wanted to start a
war chant but I gave the word to let us
mourn silently for our loved ones.
Then I spoke these words to them all:
Although the heart seeks blood
the sun goes down
ending the day.
Where the mind is worrisome
the truth prevails
leading the way.
Ours is not a struggle
forcing a seed to grow
out of its season.
But watering and waiting
day after day
until it germinates
once dormant it
hears the call of its creator
“Now is the time to bloom
Now is the making for seed
time and harvest”
For one day
this seed will emerge
into a mighty buck
And he will gather
our people with one accord
and written on his forehead
in fire it will say
“Vengeance is mine.”
We laid our warriors to rest. We
laid Great Eagle in a private burial
ground separate from the others as a
way of honoring him. Running Deer
stayed and wept at the grave sight. It
became very late but with the urging
of the women, she quietly was
escorted to her teepee.
TWENTY YEARS LATER
Chapter 9
“Throw it over the edge,” I told
She who runs like the Wind.
“Father?” she asked me. “He will
fall over the cliff.”
“Yes,” I replied. “I want to test his
loyalty.”
“But Father,” she protested.
“These are your beads that have your
history on them.”
“I know my daughter,” I assured
her. “I know.”
She who runs like the Wind grew
up with Grey Buck. They were
inseparable. She was everything a
mate would want. She gave Grey
Buck a run for his money as the white
man says. She wasn‟t my daughter.
That‟s just what the young call me out
of respect. She just looked at me not
understanding my crazy request but
out of respect obeyed. Grey Buck was
standing at the edge of a cliff
overlooking the Arizona Forest
holding his father‟s spear in his right
hand. He wasn‟t paying attention to
what She who runs like the Wind and
I were talking about. The cliff‟s edge
didn‟t drop straight down. It sloped at
an angle so that anyone could survive
if they fell over. One only had to be
quick and alert at what they were
doing to avoid getting hurt
“Hey doe!” said the Wind to Grey
Buck. “See if you can catch these.”
Grey Buck turned around and saw
the beads in her hand as she threw
them over his head and just to the side
of him, out of his reach. When Grey
Buck recognized them as belonging to
me, he started to run and jump after
them but then he extended the spear in
his hand instead, nabbing them in the
air. He looked at them and then
walked over to me and handed them
over.
“Father, these are yours!” said
Grey Buck. “Why did you try and
throw them over the cliff?” He asked
She who runs like the Wind.
“She only did what I asked her to
do my son,” I told him. “I only
wanted to see how you would react
and you did well,” I replied.
“She who runs like the Wind needs
to learn a lesson,” he said jokingly.
“You have to catch me first He
who runs like a turtle,” she retorted.
And they were both off, playing
like two children who hadn‟t learned
to grow up. Grey Buck looked exactly
like his father Great Eagle. He had his
stature and looks but one thing he
didn‟t have was his father‟s
impatience. I was surprised to see him
use the spear to grab my beads. Even I
was not expecting that. He somehow
inherited Wise Owl‟s sense of looking
at things. It was time to prepare him
to be our next leader. Even though it
had been some time since Great
Eagle‟s death, in my mind it was as if
it happened only yesterday. Time was
however against me. I hungered for
vengeance like bread. Many of our
tribal members knew he would take
over for his father Great Eagle but
Grey Buck had not grown into his
own yet. He spent more time outside
the Yaqui land hunting, exploring and
learning. He had the curiosity of Wise
Owl but not the maturity.
One day, I gathered some of the
young braves together and told them
to come with me as we walked
outside the reservation overlooking
the California Desert. Puma had been
talking with Cochiti while Black
Crow and Hiute were near by. These
were brave young men, fighting men.
“You know our history,” I told
them. “We are a people who keep to
themselves. Our great leader Wise
Owl vanished without any word from
him and Light Feather. You are young
now but many of you may know what
happened to our leader Great Eagle.
The time has come for us to move
forward and seek redemption.”
I could tell by the way they were
looking at me that they didn‟t
understand what I was telling them. I
needed to educate them on our
history.
“It was foretold in a prophecy that
one would come and give us
vengeance for the injustice done to
Great Eagle. He had suffered cruelly
by the hands of the white man at the
waste facility in California.”
“Father,” said Black Crow. “What
are we to do? We live in peace here
on the reservation and we follow the
Native American Code towards all
men.”
“Yes,” I answered. “But we must
listen to the Great Spirit as He leads
us to purify our people from what is
wrong. Grey Buck must come into his
destiny and lead us to avenge the
wrong done to us as a people when
they disgraced our leaders. When this
thing happened, we remained dormant
and let things rest. Soon the harvest
will be here and we must reap.”
“But what should we do?” asked
Hiute.
It took me a long time to explain to
these braves the whole story behind
my urging. With tears and words of
anger, each man looked me in the eye
as I swore them to secrecy concerning
the fate of Wise Owl and my heart‟s
desire for revenge on the death of
Great Eagle. After I was finished, I
could tell these young warriors
wanted blood and would do anything
I asked of them to get it.
“Father,” said Black Crow. “What
do you want us to do?”
“You must play a unique part in
shaping our history,” I said. “You
must help Grey Buck come into his
own destiny. We are going to declare
war against this California Company
and we will fulfill our dreams of
purging out the wrong done to us. My
sons, it would be wrong to declare
war without a purpose and for the
sake of selfish gain. Our Native
American Code is to live at peace
with all men. And we have. But when
someone attacks and kills our people,
then my blood cannot rest until the
Great Spirit‟s work is done.”
The young men started to dance
the warrior dance after I said these
words. Their young blood started to
boil and they were ready for action. I
instructed them to follow my lead and
I would direct them as the days
moved forward.
Chapter 10
During the coming months, a great
deal happened. Many complained
about losing personal belongings,
precious and special things. Soon
many were murmuring and
complaining but no one did anything
to resolve their problems. I watched
Grey Buck as he wondered about
these things and I sensed he was
puzzled in his mind as if he should do
something but was not sure why or if
he should be the one to investigate. I
sent Black Crow over to She who runs
like the Wind and told him to flirt
with her, for which he was more than
happy to do. Black Crow was a fierce
warrior whose body physique was all
muscle. There were not many braves
who disrespected Grey Buck and his
seven foot frame but Black Crow saw
him as a kid who needed to grow up.
Black Crow was older and more
arrogant. So he went over to see the
Wind when he knew Grey Buck was
busy working on something on the
reservation.
The Wind was out in the desert
hunting game when Black Crow
spotted her. Black Crow cut his finger
with his knife and pretended a snake
bit him. He acted like he was out
hunting also. The Wind saw him
holding his hand and turned around to
see what had happened.
“Black Crow?” she said. “What
happened to your hand?”
“I threw my knife at a wild hare
and missed,” he said. “When I went to
pick it up, a diamond back bit me.”
“Let me see,” the Wind said. “It
doesn‟t look like the bite of a
diamond back.”
“Yes,” said Black Crow. “The
Spirit who protects us perhaps was
kind to me because it seems the teeth
didn‟t enter my hand; it seems as if it
cut away as I pulled my hand quickly
when surprised.”
She who runs like the Wind
thought it was a good answer and
despite the circumstances, she took a
knife from a side sheath and cut a
piece of red cloth she had tied to her
waist. Then she took a small pouch
from the exact area and put some aloe
on the cloth then wrapped the wound
tightly closed.
“Thank you sister,” Black Crow
said.
At this time Grey Buck walked
over. He always came to see the Wind
when he was done working on the
reservation or some other task.
“Brother,” asked Grey Buck.
“What has happened to your hand?”
“I was hunting a wild hare when I
bent down for my knife and was bit
by a snake,” said Black Crow. “I
thank the Great One the Wind was
here to clean my wound because I
came unprepared. I go now. My
hunting day is short.”
I was watching things unfold from
a distance. Black Crow did exactly
what I wanted him to do. At least he
planted the seed of jealousy. But time
was wasting as many things continued
to happen yet Grey Buck did nothing,
being a reluctant leader. It wasn‟t that
he could not lead; it was that he was
never asked to lead. He could step in
any time but we as a people never
ceremoniously appointed him Chief;
which may have been our problem. I
tried to force the issue myself but I
now had to admit I was wrong. We
needed to impose the position on him
and make him Chief right away, and
then declare war. I privately returned
the items that were taken in secret and
stopped other activities concerning
the development of Grey Buck and
called the Tribal Leaders together to
tell them it was time to set Grey Buck
as Chief so he can grow and give our
people leadership. Later I walked up
to Grey Buck who was surprised to
see me so far away from the
reservation. I admit, it was a difficult
walk and I could tell my days were
getting shorter just by how long it
took for me to get to the exact spot
where I started to talk to Grey Buck.
“Father,” he said surprised to see
me so far away from our village.
“You should have sent a young brave
for me.”
“Perhaps so my son,” I said as I sat
down in the shade of a small white
oak tree. “But it was important that I
see you. We ride out before the sun
rises, only you and I. There is
something I need to show you that
only you need to see and you must
give me your word that it will be kept
secret until the proper time.”
“I don‟t understand Father,” Grey
Buck said.
“I know,” I said reassuringly.
“Tomorrow you will know
everything.”
Early morning, we rode off in the
direction of the California border, the
way Soft Dove and I did years ago
when we went looking for Wise Owl
and Light Feather. I could tell by
Grey Buck‟s demeanor that he was
suspicious of something but trusted
me, patiently waiting for whatever it
was that I was going to show him. It
was a warm night as I sat on my horse
riding down the trail till we came to
the point where we had to turn left or
right. I laughed to myself when I
recalled Soft Dove and I thinking we
should go towards the south, when we
were redirected to the opposite way
by our friend the owl. So I guided us
in that same direction when we came
to it. Nothing had changed over the
years as if the area was cursed and
everything and everyone was
forbidden to travel in this area. I
finally located the heap of sand
slightly off the trail and knew it was
the spot I was looking for. I stopped
my horse and dismounting, found a
branch to tie him to. Grey Buck didn‟t
ask questions but only followed my
lead. When we came to the area
where my brother was buried, hot
tears started to pout down my checks
for I could not control what my heart
felt inside. Grey Buck looked at me in
horror as if he had seen a spirit.
“Father?” he asked. “What is
wrong?”
It took me awhile to gain my
composure when I finally was able to
say something.
“Son…”I said as best as I could
without choking any
more…”underneath this pile of dust
and sand lie your grandfather and
grandmother.”
“What?” Grey Buck said, “Father?
How can it be?”
And not waiting but in a hysterical
fervor, he started to uncover some of
the sand until the rusted bumper of
my brother‟s truck became exposed.
He could not contain his anger and
started to cry out loud tears of sadness
and anger. He squatted down and
rested his head on the bumper and
wept bitterly. He sat there for some
time weeping and moaning. Finally he
came to his senses and stood up,
facing me, asking me who did this as
his countenance turned to bitter anger
and rage.
It took me some time to recount to
him what had happened to his
grandfather and grandmother but he
was moved to unceasing tears as I told
him about his father Great Eagle and
the restlessness he lived with, wanting
to know what had happened to his
father. I told him the day he was born,
Great Eagle was the happiest father
alive. And yet down deep inside he
wished to share his happiness with his
father, but he never could. Then I told
him about his destiny and why he was
born; to lead our people and take the
place of his grandfather and father.
All Grey Buck could do was listen
and weep as he was overwhelmed
with a truth that was too heavy for
him to carry. I told him his
grandfather‟s wish was that if
anything every happened to him when
he took this journey years ago, he
wanted it to remain a secret. I gave
my brother my word I would respect
his wishes and told Grey Buck he
needed to do the same.
It was one of the longest rides back
to the reservation I had ever taken.
We said nothing as Grey Buck trailed
behind weeping softly all the way as
hot tears flowed down my cheeks as I
reopened a wound that I tried to
ignore years ago. The memory was
always there, but the pain I tried to
cover.
Chapter 11
The next day, I was alone at Great
Eagle‟s burial ground telling him of
Grey Buck‟s new awareness and
wondered if we would ever get
revenge when I looked in the horizon
and saw two horses coming towards
our reservation. It was at that moment
that I sensed that the Spirit was
directing our destiny, as if our time
had come for it was our dear friends,
Mary Beth and Linda Sue; friends we
had not seen in quite some time. They
were headed for the village as before,
so I started for that direction so that I
could greet them. When I arrived at
the village, I was told they were
waiting for me in our tribal hut. So I
walked in and saw their faces light up
like the sun. We hugged each other
and I asked for fresh water and food
to be brought in for our special guests.
I also told some young braves to tend
to the needs of their horses as if they
were my own. All the tribal members
were glad to see them when they
arrived. We spent some time talking
about the years between their last visit
and what was transpiring at the Waste
Company.
“My father is retiring from the
company this year,” Mary Beth said.
“He is going to hand over the
company to my brothers. My brothers
haven‟t changed. They still party,
rebel rouse and cause trouble.
They‟ve been talking for years about
coming to your reservation to cause
trouble and I have an inside source
telling me they are going to celebrate
my brothers new promotions by
raiding your village and they want to
do more than just cause trouble
because they think they can get away
with it. They plan on having a huge
party for their biker friends and then
the next day, come to your reservation
and cause a great deal of trouble.”
I said I was very happy that they
came to share this news with us.
“Will this promotion take place
soon?” I asked wanting to get a sense
of how long I will have to prepare the
tribe for this conflict.
“My father is going to retire the
last day of this year,” Linda Sue said.
“so probably sometime soon, maybe
two months from now.”
“Please do not take this wrong,” I
said to them calmly. “But maybe this
is what the Great Spirit has prepared
us for to make us strong. The wind
blows, the earth shakes, there are
famines that occur at times, all to
make us strong and not be unthankful
to the one above for his kindness.”
“It is funny that you should say
that,” said Mary Beth as she rose and
grabbed something wrapped in a red
cloth. “As Linda Sue and I were
riding here to give you warning, we
found this on the path and felt it had
meaning for you somehow. We
thought this because we were on the
way to come and see you and we have
no need of it.”
She unwrapped the cloth and in
her hands was a petrified rock in the
form of an ax head and on it looked
what appeared to be engraved a cross.
I almost shook in unbelief. She
handed it to me as I looked at its
beauty.
“It is the symbol of the holy one
the Jesuits taught us about years ago”
I replied. “It is the symbol of the
ultimate sacrifice, the pouring of
blood for redemption, an act in itself
of judgment and forgiveness.”
I held it as if it were a new born
child then I looked at our guests and
asked; “Do you know what the
Jesuit‟s favorite saying to us was?” I
asked as my guests looked at each
other with a puzzled look.
“They use to always quote the
good book saying „Greater love has
no man than this; that he lay down his
life for his friends.‟ Soon we are
going to see how much love my
people have for each other.”
In the morning, we led our guests
out as a tribe to the edge of our
reservation and gave them our
blessings. Little did my people know
how important our friend‟s visit
meant to us as a people and little did
they know how things were going to
change. Our destiny was unfolding
before our eyes like the great sun
which moves in its course without
fail. I needed to talk to Grey Buck and
show him the ax head, so I sent word
by two braves and told them to go to
the outside of the reservation and
summon Grey Buck to see me at once
at my teepee. It wasn‟t long before he
appeared but he looked worn and
tired, lacking strength. I could tell he
was still grieving in his heart.
“Father?” he asked. “Is there
something wrong?”
“There is nothing wrong at all,” I
assured Grey Buck. “As a matter of
fact, the Great Spirit is moving and is
alive.” Then I took the ax head and
showed him.
“What is this Father?” he asked.
“It is a sign from above.” I said.
“Your destiny draws near.”
“I don‟t understand,” he said.
“After your father passed away
there was a prophesy that you would
lead our people to avenge your
father‟s death. At the time we did not
know what this meant and soon it was
a forgotten prophesy. Look at the ax.
Here is the meaning of our purpose.”
“I still don‟t understand Father,”
Grey Buck said.
“The two white women” I said,
“who we have become friends with
years ago showed up in our village
and revealed to us that those who
killed your father are planning a raid
on our reservation.”
Grey Buck‟s eyes lit up like light.
Anger began to surface as he reflected
on the meaning of my words.
“I have waited a long time for this
day to arrive my son.” I told him.
“Now is the time for you to take your
place among our people. You have to
prepare our people for war and to
protect us from defeat so we do not
lose our history or our people.”
When I reminded Grey Buck that
these were the same people that killed
his grandfather and father, he seemed
to finally understand and come alive,
as if he finally understood why he
existed.
Chapter 12
From that day forward, Grey Buck
spent every waking hour teaching
every tribal member how to use the
bow and ax. We never made him
Chief but he took charge as if he was
appointed. He was still shy in
asserting his will as our leader
because he had a kind nature but
everyone made it easy for him to
accept the role. The entire elders saw
he was driven with a passion and the
entire braves saw a marked change in
him; one of a leader trying to fulfill a
purpose. They didn‟t know he was
preparing them for war, so he used his
training to remind them that it was
important for the survival of the tribe
to always be prepared for war. The
older members thought his efforts
were unnecessary but admired his
attitude.
Soon he had the younger braves
digging trenches at the bottom of the
hill that lead to the reservation. Then
he had them dig more ditches at the
California border so that no trucks
from the waste company could enter
Native American soil and if they tried,
they would end up stuck in a ditch. He
had every member practice shooting
arrows, tossing spears and axes, and
hurling rocks from off the side of the
cliff. He made traps on the ground
leading to the reservation made of
wood spikes. If any one stepped on
one, the trap shot up and a wood spike
would be driven into the enemy‟s
foot. Some dug holes and covered
them with dirt and foliage and if
walked on, the foot would fall into a
hole of thorns. Then there was the
ground that was covered with dirt but
was a large hole that could be fallen
into. Some of the holes Grey Buck put
rocks or cactus in. He studied the
paths that best lead to the top of the
hill leading to the reservation and
placed metal bear and deer traps.
As Grey Buck was intent on his
efforts in laying traps and other
surprises, the very young boys of our
tribe were inspired by what they saw
him doing and started to gather
around him. So he divided them and
told some to gather as many rocks as
they could for putting into a sling shot
and make a big pile, while the other
group was to collect rocks as big as
their fists. While they gathered their
rocks, Grey Buck had young braves
set up four poles with crosses on top
for the rock slingers to hit. Then he
had poles put at the bottom of the hill
but not put into the ground until he
gave the word. When the rocks were
gathered, he had the young boys of
our tribe stand fifty feet away from
the poles and aim for the crosses at
the top of the poles. He knew they
would need to practice but he
encouraged them to try hard and they
would hit the cross. He then headed
down the sloped hill and told the boys
to throw a rock down as far as they
could. After several tries, Grey Buck
told the men to set the poles in the
ground some twenty feet farther
where he knew they could hit them
only after they had pleany of practice.
I was surprised to see a little of Wise
Owl in Grey Buck. He wanted to
stretch them as much as he could.
While Grey Buck was doing these
things, She who runs like the Wind
was working with the young women
of our tribe. She had them gather
many small, strong sticks no longer
than a finger‟s length and then had
them sharpened. Then she and the
women gathered poison from a small
lot outside the reservation called the
herbs of poison. Here they gathered
parts from Yellow Oleander, Tree
Tobacco, Pathos, Philodendron,
Century Plant, the Candelabras Cactus
and berries from Mistletoe.
After they cleaned the items
carefully not touching the poisonous
parts, they grounded them until they
became a liquid form and added a red
dye so that the darts were all the same
color.
Day after day went by and both
Grey Buck and She who runs like the
Wind worked at a feverish pace.
Finally, the tribe began to get tired
and started to question what they were
doing and why. Although earlier
generations of our Yaqui people had
to prepare for war, this generation
didn‟t. So they began to question the
need to continue with these efforts. I
was happy when Grey Buck came up
to me and said that he felt the tribe
needed to know what was going to
happen to them so that they would
take his training seriously.
“What are you proposing to do?” I
asked him.
“We need a pow wow to inform
our people of the coming enemy,” he
said.
I encouraged him to take charge
and to lead the pow wow as Chief of
our people. He was reluctant at first
but understood that it was his destiny
and responsibly also. So I suggested
he wait a few days to let our people
rest, then announce one in seven days.
He agreed and waited for the right
time and announced the pow wow in
six moons.
Chapter 13
The entire tribe gathered at the
sacred pow wow meeting grounds.
We waited but Grey Buck was not
there yet. Then one of the braves said
he was coming up the hill. We all
watched as he strove our way in full
warfare attire. He had Great Eagles
spear and he held the ax with the
cross in his right hand. He towered
over the rest of us and I sensed
everyone had a new fond respect for
him. He made his way to the front of
the crowd were the Tribal Elders sat
facing the people. The Elders stood
when he walked in front of them and
all the people became silent. When he
raised the ax, the people sat down on
the open grass. He held the ax up a
little while longer and remained quiet
for over a minute. The silence was
deafening. It seemed forever. Finally
he spoke.
“Look…a gift from the Great
Spirit,” he said as he held the ax up
again for everyone to see the symbol
of the cross on the ax. The sun shown
on the ax and made the petrified wood
look as if it was made of clear glass
and the cross could be seen as if it
were carved in the middle. Everyone
was awed by its beauty. They may not
have understood the meaning but they
respected what Grey Buck was
saying.
“The greatest injustice of all,”
Grey Buck continued, “is in this
symbol. The one who knows all about
injustice is the Holy One who the
Jesuits said loved all men and
suffered by his own creation out of
love. We have hope because the Great
Spirit suffered injustice. If he can
suffer for us, then we can suffer for
each other so that we can survive as a
people, nation and tribe. All nations
under the earth have suffered in some
way or another but the red man knows
all too well about hurt and sorrow.
Our native brothers have lost their
lands that were given to them from
the Great Spirit, only to be taken
away by the white man. The great
Geronimo said „I was no chief and
never had been, but because I had
been deeply wronged than others, this
honor was conferred upon me, and I
resolved to prove worthy of the
thrust.‟ Even the noble Chief Joseph
was not a warrior but protected his
nation in an honorable way by
refusing to accept slavery. But when
his heart could not stand the sorrow,
he said „Hear me, my chiefs! I am
tired. My heart is sick and sad. From
where the sun now stands I will fight
no more forever.‟ Since the arrival of
the white man, we have been driven
on to reservations and striped of our
land. Even Cochise questioned this
injustice when he said „When I was
young I walked all over this country,
east and west, and saw no other
people than the Apaches. After many
summers I walked again and found
another race of people had come to
take it. How is it?‟ The Great Spirit
created all things for all men to enjoy.
But through the lies of „manifest
destiny‟ the white man has abused
their power. They said lies and
injustice were ok and took what didn‟t
belong to them. Is this the heart of the
Great Spirit? Would he do something
like this to all men? I strongly agree
with Chief Tecumseh of the Shawnee
when he said of his land „This Great
Spirit in His wisdom gave it to you
and your children to defend, and
placed you here.‟
The tribe could no longer contain
themselves and stood up yelling,
chanting and ready to go for war.
After awhile, Grey Buck held the ax
up and motioned for everyone to sit
down again.
“My brothers and sisters,” Grey
Buck continued, “my fathers and
mothers…I have not told you the
most unjust acts of all yet. Some of
you questioned privately why I was
teaching many to prepare for war.
Now is the time to reveal to you the
truth. Many moons ago, our great
leader Wise Owl and Light Feather
left our reservation and never returned
to us. They never came back because
they were murdered by the white men
from the California Company.”
A great shock went throughout the
tribe. They were stunned by the
revelation.
“It was deep sorrow and pain that
drove my father Great Eagle to seek
justice but in the end he too suffered
from the hands of this same company.
White Cloud has informed me that the
two white women who have become
our friends, have warned us that many
men from this company plan to attack
us and do us harm. Despite the many
years that have passed by, their hate
for us still runs deep. This is why we
have been preparing for war.”
After Grey Buck said this I arose
to support what he said.
“Grey Buck is right,” I said. “Wise
Owl swore me to secrecy not to say
anything to anyone if something were
to happen to him if he went to this
waste company to investigate why
they were dumping waste onto our
land. But when the fullness of time
came for Grey Buck to take his place
as our leader, I needed to tell him the
truth so that he could fulfill his
destiny, as it was prophesied he
would. Now we need to give him our
complete support because our history
as a people depends on it.”
After saying this I sat down to let
Grey Buck continue.
“We must fight,” Grey Buck
resumed, “for the memory and honor
of those who went before us. We must
remember Wounded Knee. We must
remember The Trail of Tears.
Someday they will say we fought for
Wise Owl and Great Eagle and for the
history of the Yaqui people and for all
Native Americans who suffered the
same sorrow and injustice. But one
thing we have that makes us
invincible (as he held the ax up for all
to see), we have the hand of the Holy
One with us.”
At this all the tribal members rose
with a great shout of triumph. They
celebrated and danced. Afterwards, all
the members went to their places and
rested. Grey Buck went to Great
Eagles burial ground and told him he
would give him justice so that he
could rest in peace. He said he would
not rest until the final hour came
when he paid retribution on the heads
of those who did his father wrong.
Over a short period of time, Grey
Buck had gained the respect and
admiration of the whole tribe. This
generation of Yaqui had not known
war and they were glad they had a
leader who worked hard for their
survival. The very thought of
becoming extinct as a tribe brought a
lot of stress and worry on our people.
Everyone could see in his eyes that
Grey Buck too was worried about
each and every tribal member. He
spent a great deal of time assuring
everyone that he would take care of
them and that they were going to fight
as one people and that the culture and
history of the Yaqui people, like times
before, would prove that we were a
resilient people capable of surviving
any attack. He stressed he would do
anything to make sure we were
victorious in battle.
Chapter 14
We did not expect them to come
for another month but for some reason
they came as if trying to surprise us.
Grey Buck sent the word out for
everyone to take their positions and
be ready for action. He and I went to
the edge of the reservation
overlooking the valley. We watched
as mostly bikers tried to cross onto
our land first. Then some would fall
into ditches, holes and other booby
traps. This slowed them down a little.
Then they gave up their motorcycles
and started to walk towards our land,
only to find other booby traps waiting
for them. We could hear yells and
screams from the distance as they
started to curse us for setting them.
But they still kept coming. Every once
and a while, we would hear a scream
or yell of pain go up when they ran
into a ditch or stepped onto some
thorns, but others kept coming. As
they got closer to climbing the slope
up to our reservation, the young
braves who gathered many rocks the
size of their hands, stationed
themselves ready to throw them while
the other braves who practiced with
the sling shots prepared behind them.
When they got close enough, Grey
Buck gave the word for the young
braves to start throwing rocks. The
bikers didn‟t expect this because
many of them were out of shape and
were looking down as they climbed
the slope, stopping many times to
catch their breath. They became irate
when rocks the size of fists started to
rain down on them. They retreated
talking among themselves what they
should do. Then some came from
behind carrying rifles and pistols. So
they started to shoot towards us
hoping we would run but we called up
the braves with the sling shots and
started to rain down rocks on them
while keeping out of range and aim of
fire. The warriors brought out their
rifles and guns and lay at the edge of
the hill and started to shoot back but
only to intimate those who carried
guns. Since those climbing the slope
had no protection from tress because
it was a barren slope, they had to fall
back and come up with another plan.
One of our scouts said there was an
old man sitting in a jeep by himself. I
remember our friends saying their
father wanted to see the whole tribe
wiped out and if he were to show up
he more likely would not be able to
walk and would be staying in a truck.
Grey Buck asked for his grandfathers
Winchester. He took aim at the man
in the truck knowing he was the father
and shot him straight between the
eyes. All the bikers motioned towards
the jeep and found the old man dead.
They started to yell curses towards the
hill. But they knew they could do
nothing for the time being. So they
waited until dark to attack knowing
they could climb the slope at the
protection of night. But we stationed
posts at the top of the hill and lit them
brightly. We put up as many as we
could so that it lit up the valley below.
We also stationed our dogs at the
perimeter of the reservation so that
the bikers could hear them bark so
that they would know what they
would meet next if they attacked. We
set lookouts for the night watch.
We chanted the 13th hour.
At dusk, there was the sound of many
bullets hitting the top of the hill. This
caught us by surprise. They went back
and brought machine guns. Several of
our lookouts were killed. They kept
firing their machine guns hoping we
would fall back but we held our
ground. The bikers tried to climb the
hill under the cover of machine fire
but we quickly made sticks with
cloths and bandanas on them hoping
they would believe they were Yaqui
people moving around and aim at
them. And it worked! As they aimed
for these sticks, our best shooters
aimed for those who had machine
guns and started to pick them off one
by one. Also, Grey Buck called the
women to the front line and told them
to be ready with the poison darts
when a biker got close. Several young
bikers made it up the hill rather easily
although it was over two hundred feet
to the top, but their eyes opened wide
with fear when they were greeted by
our dogs then hit in the neck by a
poisonous darts. Everyone one of the
bikers who made it to the hill was
pelted with a poisonous dart. Quickly
they lay dead at the top of the slope.
Then there was silence. The machine
guns stopped. The bikers didn‟t know
what to do when they say their own
lying dead on the slope. Then
suddenly, a small Yaqui child got
away from her mother and started to
walk a short distance to a bike who
managed to get nearly to the top of
the slope. The mother cried for her
baby to come back but it was too late,
she was headed towards the biker who
was carrying a club. Grey Buck went
after the child but the biker was not
going to harm the child. He had his
club up in the air before he even knew
a child was before him. He was only
in an off-balanced position and only
appeared as if he were going to harm
the child. When Grey Buck came to
rescue the child, machine fire from
several machine guns sprayed at him
hitting him many times. The biker
motioned towards the bottom of the
hill to stop firing because there was a
young child near. He fell on it to
protect it. Then he got up and walked
to the top and handed the crying baby
to its mother. Everyone stood around
stunned. No one knew what to do.
The biker returned to the place where
Grey Buck lay and kneeled as if
saying a prayer asking him to forgive
him. Then he got up and walked down
the hill and didn‟t say a word to
anyone who spoke to him. All the
bikers collected their dead then
headed back to the waste company.
All the Yaqui tribe gathered around
Grey Buck as he lay dead on the side
of the hill in a pool of blood, still
clinching the ax with the cross on it.
There we sat, mourning the loss of
our young leader.
I am close to the red river. My
time ends with the descending of the
sun. I mourned the death of Grey
Buck as if he were my son. He
sacrificed his life for the sake of a
child and for us all. He who knew
tragedy all too well gave unselfishly,
like the Holy One. We as a people
felt a deep shock and loss we can not
explain, but the one who felt the lost
the most was She who runs like the
Wind; for she told me later she was
carrying their child.
Although the heart seeks blood
the sun goes down
ending the day.
Where the mind is worrisome
the truth prevails
leading the way.
The Red River: By Chief Grey Buck From the throne of the Great Spirit flows many rivers many rivers of many colors. In my veins flows the blood from the Red River. It is not my choosing. The Great One made me who I am. Each river comes from the same source. How can one be more important than the other? We breathe the same air… walk the same land… survive the same way… our destiny is manifest by the Holy One. Who then can say one people are greater than the next? Behold the mighty Sequoia!
Out of a single seed sprouts a majestic guardian of the forest. And still it will someday fall and out of its death will spring life for another generation. Who can say they are wise like an Owl to make such a wonder? Look at the great Eagle in the sky! Such majesty cannot be compared to him. Yet it claims the highest heavens as its home. Who can be its master? Look at the beauty of the stream. It is teeming with life. Even the mighty Buck must submit to its call to drink. The water is clear but you can still see it! Who can understand such mysteries? And still all men show no respect for the creator’s works.
He who is above, will not share his glory with a boastful man who does not honor his ways and his laws. Listen my people! One day, the Great Spirit will call all men to an accounting. The Great One is the guardian of the forest of life. He lives like the Eagle who broods in the highest heavens His wisdom is like the Owl and is above all. He creates the mighty Buck to fulfill His purpose. All things will come to an end, even the lies and broken promises of the white man. No my people…it is better to walk humbly before our maker and to respect all that he has made and to cherish the earth.
For some day our bodies will return to the ground also but our spirits will rise and celebrate before the Great throne that issues forth the eternal Red River. Psalm 46:4 There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God, the holy place where the Most High dwells.