The Land. Robert K. Swisher Jr.
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of the sun and transformed them into all colors of the earth. It was like sunset and sundown. Placing the point on the deer hide cloth, he took the chipper and hammer and the drill and dug out a small hole in the ground. These would return to the earth. Never again could he use them. Their magic and power had been extinguished in his work. Shining Moon stood and gathered his horses. He would ride to the tribe now. He had found no danger. His duty was completed and he could return to his love and his marriage.
Riding he thought of his wedding day. Flying Bird would be dressed in her finest dress. Beads of red and blue, green and white would flow over the soft deer skin. From her hair would be small feathers from song birds and around her ankles delicate bells that would ring when she walked. Shining Moon would wear long elk hide britches with bead work down each side of the leg. His shirt would be laced with hawk feathers and his hair would be greased and parted in the middle. Around his waist he would wear a beaded belt. The beads depicted strength and love.
Fore the entire day before the ceremony he would be segregated from the tribe as Flying Bird would be segregated. The women would build a tent for them out past the others, and in this tent they would place many elk and buffalo hides, making a soft and deep cushion for the lovers. Inside there would be food for several days. Dried venison, dried fish, corn and beans and several gourds of water. Riding, Shining Moon could hear the women singing and see the sly glances of the older men, remembering their wedding night and the soft curves of their young wives. Of course there would be pranksters. Young boys sneaking up to the tent late at night. Pelting the tent with stones to disturb the lovers. And of course Shining Moon would have to run outside, feigning anger, yelling threats to the retreating boys.
After the lovers were married, Flying Bird would be stolen by his friends, and only after much bickering and bartering would he be be able to buy back his bride. Shining Moon rode and his heart was as the light spring breeze, as happy as a song bird greeting the day. There was no danger, there was nothing but his thoughts and his love.
Late in the afternoon, Shining Moon rode up to the edge of the sloping ridge that overlooked the pueblo. But when he stopped and looked down, his heart was seized by a terrible empty feeling. Below was nothing but signs of havoc. Scattered everywhere, pots and other articles of the tribe. He kicked his horse and rode recklessly down the face of the bluff, riding into the desolate village. He jumped from his horse, his heart racing, and ran around, looking at the desolation. There was no sign of battle, no blood, no dead animals. But he knew one of the braves must have discovered the danger, and the tribe moved quickly towards the box canyon.
Shining Moon walked quickly to Flying Bird’s hogan. Sitting outside, a great anger arose in his chest, and he turned his face towards the sky and a deep grief-filled yell came from his throat. “Those who have caused this will die. I will tear their hearts from their bodies and lay them out for the buzzards to eat.” Shining Moon walked back to his horses and mounted one. Following the tracks of his people, he began to follow the fleeting.
As night approached he came across the hoof prints of many horses, and he knew now what had been the danger. By the tracks he figured the tribe had been gone almost ten suns and the invaders were no more than one sun behind them. Shining Moon did not stop but continued to ride and change ponies randomly. By dawn he was tired, but he would not halt. Burning deep within him was the sight of his people and the sight of his love forced to leave their homes and run and hide like some mad and wild beast. By nightfall he stopped and rested, but again he did not sleep. His heart raced in his chest and his mind grew hard with the thoughts of death to his enemies.
Two days later Shining Moon, hiding with the dark behind a large cedar tree, saw the invaders’ fires. Directly to their front he knew the box canyon lay and inside his people. Somewhere with the rocks was Flying Bird. So close, but so very far away. He wanted to take his pony and ride through the enemy and into the canyon, but he knew this was a foolish act. Instead he rode back away from the enemy to sit and meditate on his actions.
Stopping about a mile from the invaders, Shining Moon tied his ponies. He took from his horse his bow and quiver of arrows and made sure his knife was secure on his belt. He felt for the spear point, wrapped in his pouch. Walking away from the horses, he sat down, and taking deep breaths, closed his eyes. He did not think of Flying Bird but only of the invaders. And in time he decided on a course of action. He would not break through to his people, but would instead with each night sneak in with the enemy and kill as many as he could. Silently, like a snake, he would creep close to them and cut their throats.
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