(…continued from Chapter One)
Joseph had been fishing in this river at the base of the mountain for three years now. He had learned the basics of fishing from his father, and got some additional help from his two brothers. He loved to go fishing, especially in the Summer when the days were longer and there was enough light left in the sky after his work was done.
This day, though, was different than the others. Joseph did not want to fish. He was scared. His father had not returned from hunting and it was getting late. The sun had already begun to set and a storm was coming. Joseph knew what that meant: The storm would come with rain, wind, and lightning. The storm would be bad. It would bring with it danger to the village and Joseph’s family would be without shelter until the storm was over.
So, Joseph decided to leave the river and return home. His brothers were still out fishing, so he had the freedom to walk back to the village as he pleased. He was happy about this, as it gave him the chance to look at the mountain more closely. He had never been able to get close to Mt. Hiawatha before — he was too afraid to. He had always stayed away from it, not wanting to get too close to a mountain that could take his family away if something happened.
Joseph walked down from the river and toward the base of the mountain, admiring its beauty. He stopped under a large tree and admired the markings that ran across its trunk. “These are wonderful,” he said. “Do you know what they mean?” He felt a strange feeling in his head, a sense of calm. The same feeling he had felt when he first saw Mt. Hiawatha in the distance.
He had felt this same calmness then, and knew he must be near it. He knew the village would be fine. It was just his father’s work. His father was a good man. He would know what to do when the storm came. Joseph was about to walk on when he heard a loud roar. It sounded like a lion, but Joseph did not believe it was. He was sure that if there was a lion around, it was already too late to run. Joseph began to run, not knowing exactly where he was going. But he ran and ran until he could see no more.
As he ran along the dirt path that led up the mountain’s side, he began to notice some strange marks in the ground. At first, he thought they were just the result of the many deer and elk that roamed through the forest. The marks were circular, as if someone had carved small holes into the dirt with a stick.
Then he noticed something else. On the hillside, he saw two sets of footprints, one right next to the other. They were human sized and appeared to be walking in a straight line from the river. He wondered where they could have come from.
He thought about the marks he had seen on the hillside. He did not know what they meant, but they made him think of a story his father had told him when he was little. A long time ago, his father told him that he used to live in a village with his mother, his brothers, and his father’s friend. His father’s friend was a shaman. He was an old man who walked with a staff.
One day, the shaman left for another village to visit friends of his own. His wife was with him. Their oldest son stayed behind to take care of the house while the shaman was gone. One day, the shaman and his wife got into an argument. They had been fighting over something all day, so the shaman decided to leave. But he did not want to leave his son behind to take care of the house. So, he asked the boy if he wanted to go with them, but the boy said no.
He wanted to stay and take care of the house while his father went away. The shaman said he understood, and told the boy he could come with him. He was sad that his father was leaving and he cried. He was not happy to be staying behind. But, the shaman reassured him that it would be alright, and told him that there were two beautiful deer in the forest and that his father would be back before long.
So, the boy took off after his father, following the footprints up the side of the mountain until they reached a large cave in the side. The cave was on the edge of a cliff, and had a small opening on the other end. Inside the cave was a pool of water, and next to the pool was a huge, sleeping bear. It was huge, as big as a small truck, and the boy was afraid. He was afraid of the bear and he was afraid to go inside the cave. He did not want to sleep in there alone.
But the bear woke up and growled at him. The boy did not know what to do, so he ran back down the path. He felt sad and lonely, knowing that his father would not be coming home for a long time. So, he went to the river to take a bath and wash away his sadness. Later that night, the boy’s father and his friend returned. The shaman was excited to see his son, but the boy was still sad. His father asked him what was wrong, and he told him about the bear.
“What is wrong with the bear?” the father asked. The boy told him that he was afraid of it.
“Oh,” the father said, “I’m not afraid of it. We will have to kill it. It is a gift from the Great Spirit. It is sacred.”
So, the boy’s father and his friend went to the cave. They found the bear inside asleep. The shaman hit it with his staff to wake it up. When it woke up, it looked at them and growled. The shaman then held out a cup of water in his hand. The bear opened its mouth and drank from the cup. But, when it tried to drink from the other side of the cup, the water spilled all over. It was angry and began to growl at them. The boy’s father and his friend were very frightened.