A Family Restored

Aspen Flower - Art by Alfredo Rodriguez
Aspen Flower – Art by Alfredo Rodriguez

Historical Microfiction

Bull Elk would not let go of carrying his son, even though he was exhausted. The men traveled all day through the forest and into the night. There were several times he stumbled but he insisted on carrying the foot of the sling, while Seven Hawks carried the head. Bull Elk was carrying more than the physical weight of his son though, he carried the weight of his son possibly dying, if they did not get back to the village soon, and it was his fault.  Two Wolves proved to be an excellent guide and led them through one trail and then other. The men were impressed with Two Wolves, and Standing on the Mountain was especially impressed. As he looked at the sky, through the trees, Standing on the Mountain saw clouds moving in. He was praying that the storm would hold off until they got back home.

Once night came, Holds the Fire began to unravel. She sent for Cricket in the Meadow, not because she needed a vision, or an herbal drink, or even words of wisdom. She needed a friend. She needed someone like her mother, and Cricket in the Meadow was the closest thing she had to a mother. When Cricket in the Meadow came in, she immediately embraced Holds the Fire, and let her cry on her shoulder. Holds the Fire was crying, because she thought she might never see her husband, or son again. If they did find Talking Eagle – would he be alive?

When they began to see the fires of the lodges, the men all breathed a sigh of relief. Standing on the Snow and RiverMountain led them in a song of thanks, to the Creator. They also wanted the village to hear them coming in. Wild Horse ran ahead of them and went straight for the lodge of Holds the Fire. As he was running, it began to snow – heavily. Standing on the Mountain looked up at the sky, and knew it would be a big one. He thanked the Creator that they were home.

Once they were in the village there was no time for celebrating. It was time for action. Talking Eagle was carried straight to his lodge where his mother, Holds the Fire, his sister Bluebird, and Cricket in the Meadow, were waiting. The young man was pale and his lips were blue. The men had done well taking care of him on the journey back, but there was no way for him to begin to heal, until he was next to a fire in a warm lodge. Within seconds of them bringing in Talking Eagle, there were at least 10 people tending to him or helping. Wild Horse went to get more wood for the fire. Women were heating up rocks, wrapping them, and then placing them next to the young man.

Bull Elk intentionally maneuvered around the people so he could be next to his wife. He knelt down next to her, where she was seated next to the fire, and holding their son. He placed a hand on her shoulder. It was a silent gesture, and one that brought with it hope. He was hoping that she would respond in a positive way. She did smile, and looked at him with relief on her face.

It took a while for the young man to return from the brink of disaster, but his color returned and lips became a normal color. Unfortunately he lost several toes, and the small finger on his left hand to frostbite. They just could not restore them. There was some frostbite on his face as well, but Cricket in the Meadow thought it would heal with time.

The crowd began to thin as dawn approached. Talking Eagle did wake up long enough to drink several warm herbal drinks. Bull Elk did ask his wife if he should sleep in another lodge. He was concerned that she was hurting still. She said, “It will take time… but please stay here with us.” “Talking Eagle and I both need you here now”. It was an act of faith really. She was still hurting from all of his anger, but she detected a change in him. There was a deep sadness now.

So they went to sleep as the sun was coming up, together in the same lodge. In that sense they were a family again. Holds the Fire had good dreams, and dreamed that she was dancing the jingle dress dance around their lodge. She also dreamt of Bull Elk having humility, asking his son’s forgiveness, and once again being a strong man, without the anger and meanness.

The next night Holds the Fire took another step of faith by moving her bedding next to her husband again. It brought forgiveness, and started the healing process. It took time, but healing came, and love was restored.

by sheltieboy via flickr
by sheltieboy via flickr

Note: The jingle dress dance is done by women, and thought to bring healing and restoration. There are small bells on the dress, such as in the picture above. As the women dance the bells (jingles) make a beautiful sound. If I find a good one I think I will post a video on the dance. Thanks for reading! Peace!

Writing © Copyright 2015, nicodemasplusthree

The Lost Son – Conclusion

by Dave Brosha via flickr
by Dave Brosha via flickr

Cricket in the Meadow prayed all night that night. She sensed the young man was in great danger, and she was unable to rest. She stepped outside several times to look at the night sky, and was amazed at how many stars she could see. As she looked around the village, she saw other fires lit brightly, and other people were awake too, moving around, no doubt praying as well. Among them was the lodge of Holds the Fire. Cricket in the Meadow had tears well up in her eyes, so she closed them, and prayed for healing for their family.

Talking Eagle had just barely covered himself, in the pit with logs, when the fire started to grow dim. And then the wolves did come, quietly at first. They were sniffing the ground, and making soft growling noises. It was dark now, but he could plainly see them surrounding the pit and several got on top of the logs to look down at him through the cracks. They became angry, bared their teeth at him (which he could see in the moonlight), and began growling and snarling. They also looked for a way to get to him and around the logs. The logs were too heavy to move, so a few began digging around the pit. Talking Eagle was prepared for this though, and he jabbed at them with his arrows, and several times he drew blood. The animals yelled, ran around limping, but would eventually return madder than ever.

Several miles away the men built a fire to keep warm, and they took turns standing guard against wolves. They heard them in the distance howling, but could not see them. Every so often, when the guard could not stay awake any longer, he would wake up the next person. Without a lodge to protect them, the cold was intense, even with a fire. No one slept very well, and they spent most of their time shivering.

Talking Eagle was shivering, partly from the cold and partly from fear. The wolves spent hours breathing down at him, through the cracks, their drool dripping down the logs, and onto his blankets. They tried to dig, and he continued to poke and jab at them. They were everywhere at once, was he dreaming – having a nightmare? No they were real, their blood dripping from his arrows and their yelling was real for sure.

from earthsky.org
from earthsky.org

It was sometime just before dawn when Cricket in the Meadow had a vision. She saw two pieces of light hanging over the forest. They were not sunbeams or rays from the sun. They were two long pieces of light with a beginning and ending, just hanging there in the sky. They looked a lot like…well icicles. She knew it was a sign and sensed that Talking Eagle was between the two pieces of light. Would the men see the sign? She began praying that they would.

It was just before dawn when the wolves gave up the attack. It was the cold now, that was killing Talking Eagle, as he lay quietly in the pit. He shivered severely. His skin was growing pale, and his fingertips were turning blue. He was confused, but had enough presence of mind to sing the death song, that his mother had taught him. He was not at peace about dying, but he was trying to be. For the first time in his life – he prayed. Then he stopped singing, because he did not want the pit that he had dug, to be his grave.

When the men woke up at dawn, there was a discussion on which way they should go. All discussion stopped however when Standing on the Mountain stared at the sky awestruck. There were two long pieces of light hanging over the forest, each with a beginning and an end. They all looked at this miraculous sign, and then they looked at each other. Without speaking they quickly gathered their belongings. Bull Elk asked Two Wolves if he knew how to get there, and he said yes. At that, the men took off running towards the place where the pieces of light were.

Bull Elk took the lead, and could be heard yelling, “My son!”, “My son!”, “We must find my son!” The tears streaming down his face, froze to his skin as he ran. Once they were closer the two pieces of light went out, but they could smell a burning smell. Was it a fire? The eight men sprinted now as one, thundering through the otherwise quiet forest. They followed the smell to a clearing, and stopped dead in their tracks. There were signs of wolves everywhere, a lot of them. “The pit!”, yelled Bull Elk.

They sprang into action. Hawk in the Sky, and Wild Horse drew their bows and stood guard, watching the woods, while Seven Hawks removed the logs in an instant. There they found the boy, unconscious, and barely alive but breathing. Three men restarted the fire, while Talking Eagle was lifted out of the pit, and surrounded with layers of buffalo blankets. The young man was placed in the arms of his father, who sank to his knees, weeping.

A short time later the fire was roaring, and everyone was getting warmer. Life was coming back to Talking Eagle, but he was still pale, and he was showing signs of frostbite. While Standing on the Mountain made an herbal drink from melted snow, and herbs from a pouch he kept at his waist, it was decided to get the young man back to the village as quickly as possible. They would carry him, and not stop until they got there.

Two Wolves said, “Since we are not following his trail, we do not have to go through the thick brush” “There is another way around, which is longer but will take less time”. That is exactly what they needed. They made a sling from buffalo blankets. Talking Eagle woke up long enough to take the herbal drink, and to see his father. He managed a smile and fell back asleep.

They headed back to the village with Two Wolves leading the way. Seven Hawks carried the head of the sling, and Bull Elk carried the foot. They did not know it, but Talking Eagle was praying for the second time in his life, thankful that he was alive. The Creator was speaking to him that he would be safe now.

Frosty Trees in Mist Yellowstone by Anita Erdmann by fineartamerica.com
Frosty Trees in Mist Yellowstone by Anita Erdmann by fineartamerica.com

This was longer than normal – thanks for reading! Next week more on life in the village, and the restoration of Bull Elk’s family. Peace!

Writing © Copyright 2015, nicodemasplusthree

The Lost Son – Part III

via flickr
via flickr


Bull Elk did not say a word as the men quickly moved through the forest. He knew that all of this was his fault, and it was all he could do to hold himself together. He was torn up inside and he knew it. Why was he so stupid last night? Somehow he found the courage to apologize to his wife before they left. She said nothing but shook her head “yes”. He loved his wife more than anything on this earth, but he had caused her great pain. He hated himself. He knew it would be a long time before they embraced again. She had every right to leave him, according to their custom. At least if they died out here, trying to find his son, he did what he could to make peace with his wife. At least he had done one thing right.

And now it was time to find his son, before it was too late, before they all froze to death and there would be no asking for his forgiveness. He didn’t usually pray but Bull Elk prayed for help from the Creator. They moved swiftly, and made good time following the trail of Talking Eagle. They found themselves at a group of very large rocks, where they climbed and surveyed the land. There was a creek and thick brush up ahead. It was very clear that the trail of Talking Eagle went into the thick brush. They all looked at each other, and knew that it would be tough going from here.

By the time Talking Eagle made it to the other side of the thick brush he had no idea where he was. To be honest though, he didn’t care. He was away from his father and all the pain of the village. He came to a clearing and decided to rest. He also needed to do something about his feet. They were wet and cold, very cold. He took off the many layers of buckskin, and replaced them with fresh ones, after drying off his feet. He did have sense enough to prepare for this, but he was starting to become concerned about the extreme temperatures.

He built a fire, which was not easy, just before the sun began setting. In the distance he heard aWolf 1 wolf howling, which sent chills down his spine. He decided to do something his father had taught him, and that was to dig a pit in the earth, and put heavy logs over top of him, once he was in it. The pit would protect him from the wolves but there was no way to have a fire, once he was inside. He might freeze to death. It was either the fire and probably facing the wolves, or sleeping in the pit. Either way he might die.

Oh no! As he started digging he realized the earth was frozen, which ruined his knife. It was slow going, but he made it deep enough, to move the earth with his hands. At the same time, he had to keep the fire going. Wolves did not like fire. Off in the distance he saw several sets of eyes. They were not people eyes, and they were not friendly. He would have to move quickly to get the large logs.

The logs were so big he had to roll them into place. Then he put more wood on the fire, and kept digging. He could see forms moving in the forest, shadows really. He guessed there were 4 or maybe 5 of them, pacing back and forth, looking for the right time to attack. He worked quickly, but not quickly enough. The wolves became bold and showed themselves. He began throwing burning pieces of wood at them which held them at bay.

Once he had the pit deep enough, he got in and said goodbye to the fire. He might be saying goodbye to life, and for the first time he realized that coming out here by his self was not a good idea.

The men had a tough time getting through the brush. Most of them were cut or scratched on their faces, and then on their hands as they tried to protect themselves. Seven Hawks got the worst of it, as he tried moving his huge frame through branches that hit him like ropes with knives on them. He gave up trying to protect himself, and barreled through like a buffalo in a corn field.

By dark, they had made it through the brush, but they had lost the trail of Talking Eagle long ago. There was no sign of the young man, and they had no choice but to build a fire, in order to stay alive. Was that a wolf? Night Scene

 This weekend the conclusion of The Lost Son, and some poetry!

Thanks for reading! Peace!

Writing © Copyright 2015, nicodemasplusthree

The Lost Son – Part II

from indianscowboys via flickr
from indianscowboys via flickr

He made his way to the forest, and had gone inside of it, through a trail that Two Wolves had shown him. Once he was in the forest for a while, the sun was beginning to rise, and he could see everything clearly. Up and over logs, around rocks, down into a ravine, and up the other side he went. As he traveled he noticed deer tracks. There were two – no three – deer not far up ahead according to what the trail was telling him. He thought about hunting, but no, he needed to get deep into the forest and away from the village.

It was bitter cold, some of the worst he had seen, and that was another reason to keep moving. He was still being driven by what he felt inside, but he knew he would have to build a fire by nightfall in order to survive. This was the kind of weather that could kill a man.

The trail ended at a large group of boulders, which he climbed. At the top he could see nothing but trees, and a small creek. This is where he wanted to be, the deep forest. No one would find him now. There was some thick brush that would be difficult to get through and that is exactly where he went.

At the village, it took a while for his mother to realize he had left. When she woke both her husband and Talking Eagle were not in the lodge, and she thought maybe they had gone out to talk. She prayed that there would be healing in her family. Her heart ached and tears filled her eyes. A short time later though, Bull Elk came inside and stared at her. He looked terrified. He did not say, good morning, or I’m sorry, he stammered, “I cannot find him, our son is gone”. Her mouth dropped open and her heart sank. He continued, “I’ve looked everywhere, the trail he left is headed for the forest”.

Bison in SnowThey both ran to the lodge of Standing on the Mountain, and the village sprang into action once the word had spread. There was no reason to ask why, or how did this happen? The people knew already, but more importantly they judged no one, and only wanted to help in some way. A group of men volunteered to go into the forest without horses, including all of the Grie men. They were Seven Hawks, and his son Wild Horse, Strong Bear, Buffalo Talker, and the boy’s father, Bull Elk.

Standing on the Mountain thought for a moment, as they were all assembled together, and asked Bull Elk if any Grie men needed to stay in the village. Bull Elk was having trouble facing the people, but he looked up and said, “The Grie people are safe here among the Tsi, and we know that”.

Most of the Tsi men also wanted to go looking for the young man, but not everyone should go. Hawk in the Sky mentioned that the group needed to be small, because of the thickness of the brush in the forest. Fifteen year old Two Wolves spoke up, and said, “I should go. I know the forest better than anyone. Besides, Talking Eagle is my friend.” It was true on both counts, and everyone knew it.

It was decided that 8 men would go, the 5 Grie men, Standing on the Mountain, Hawk in the Sky, and Two Wolves. Songbird was scared for Two Wolves, and she told him so when she had the chance. They were too young to be married, but they were very much in love. He embraced her, and told her he would be back, but he needed to help a friend. She shook her head yes. No one objected to their embracing, in fact it was expected. After all, the Creator had put these two together.

The men left quickly, and were in the forest in no time, led by the young man Two Wolves. Standing on the Mountain couldn’t help thinking, how remarkable this young man was. Here he was just fifteen, and he was leading the men.

According to the trail, Talking Eagle was about 3-4 hours ahead of them.

Dawn Snow

Happy New Year!

Wishing you all – the best in the upcoming year!

I look forward to more of your wonderful blogs in 2015!

The Lost Son Part III, next time! Peace to you!

Writing © Copyright 2014, nicodemasplusthree

The Lost Son

Harley Upton Jr. (Diego James Robles) from indiancountrytodaymedianetwork
Harley Upton Jr. (Diego James Robles) – Apache from indiancountrytodaymedianetwork

His father was angry again, and he couldn’t take it anymore. Why did he always have to yell? There was something wrong with his father for sure, but he dared not say anything. Fifteen year old Talking Eagle loved his father but not when he was like this. He had had this problem for a long time, but it was worse now that they were in a new village.

No matter what his mother (Holds the Fire) did, his father would not get out of this mood. She tried yelling back, but that did not go very far. She tried talking softly, and even touching him but he pushed her away. He was an impossible, snarling animal, and Talking Eagle was fed up.

The topic was always the same. Bull Elk felt betrayed by his own people because they did not want to start a new Grie village. They had come to the Tsi village only for safety in the middle of winter, and they were to start another village in the spring (or so he thought). What was to become of their customs, their ways? Were they all supposed to become Tsi? Were they even to give up their language? “Never!” shouted Bull Elk at the top of his lungs.

Talking Eagle was sure that everyone in the village heard that outburst. He was becoming so angry at his father for humiliating them in the eyes of all the people, that he thought he would burst. Holds the Fire was trying to calm him down and moved in closer to her husband, but he pushed her away again. Talking Eagle jumped up and started yelling, “Stop pushing her! Stop pushing her!”. A swift blow came to Talking Eagle’s face from the back of his father’s hand, which knocked him sideways. His father had never done this before, and all of them, even his father were in shock. Nobody said anything. Talking Eagle instinctively placed a hand on his face, and found that his lip was bleeding.

Holds the Fire was weeping now. Her son had never seen her weep like this, unless someone had died. Perhaps they were dying. His family was dying right before his eyes, and he wanted no part of it. He was about to leave, when someone came to their lodge, and scratched at their door.   Horse at Night

Standing on the Mountain came in with concern written on his face. Being a tall man, he also carried a certain amount authority and calmness. The spiritual leader of the Tsi, spoke in perfect Grie, and asked to talk to Bull Elk outside. They talked for what seemed like a long time. Through her tears, Holds the Fire tried to gather herself together, but she did move her bedding as far away as she could from where her husband would be sleeping. Talking Eagle laid down in his place but did not sleep. Instead he made plans. He knew exactly where he would go.

When his father came back in, he stood and looked around but said nothing. He laid down as well, but no one slept for a long time. Talking Eagle was thinking about what he needed to take with him. He would also dress with many layers and travel to the forest. Should he take a horse? No he thought, some parts of the forest were too thick with brush for a horse.

He loved the forest. He and Two Wolves and some of the other young men would go there, just for fun, or to do some hunting. It was peaceful there, not like this place. He needed to be away from here. As soon as he could hear his parents sleeping, he would leave.

Eventually he fell asleep too, but woke up with a start. He quietly moved around the lodge gathering what he needed, and dressed as warm as he could, especially his feet. Grabbing his weapons, he slipped quietly out of the lodge. He could not stay in this place any longer. Night

Next time Part II of The Lost Son. Thanks for reading! Peace to you!

 Writing © Copyright 2014, nicodemasplusthree

The Decision

photo by Kate Purdy from startupchimp.com
photo by Kate Purdy from startupchamp.com

Seven Hawks had a problem, and he did not know how to tell his wife about it. They both lay in their lodge, awake one night, not knowing what to say. How could he tell her he wanted to stay here and live with the Tsi? The plan had been from the very beginning, to stay with the Tsi over the winter, and then in the spring they would begin a new Grie village somewhere else.

He loved the people here. There was something about them that made them different. They seemed more… connected somehow. He remembered his family visiting the Tsi when he was a boy, and he noticed then their spirituality. He also played games with the Tsi boys then, such as Whirlwind, and Standing on the Mountain, and lately he was able to get to know them as men. They were becoming more of his “brothers” than the Grie men were, in his old village. He turned over again towards his wife, and looked at her. Noticing she was still awake, he lifted his head, and thought about kissing her but she turned away.

Prairie Flower also had a problem. She could not figure out how to tell her husband that she wanted to stay here, and it bothered her to no end. It was the way the Tsi people treated them more than anything else. It was the love and respect they gave the Grie, that impressed her the most.

Her husband was a huge man, with a chest and shoulders more like a horse than a man’s. His arms were like two small trees. Over the years he had saved more than one life simply because he had the strength of three men. But he was the most gentle and humble man she had ever met, and that’s why she married him. She wanted their children to have his personality. In spite of her name, she knew she was too often harsh, and he smoothed her out with his gentleness, like no one else could.

Because of his gentle ways, her husband never got the respect that he should have, in their old village. She knew deep down that was one the reasons they left. She was also tired of the jealousy from other women at the old village. Young women would often giggle as he walked by, hoping to catch his attention. Even married women whispered cruel jokes about him. It often made her angry and sick in her heart.

Everything was different here though. They had been here two months already and the people respected her and her husband for who they were – on the inside. Then too the relationship between Thunder Speaking and Bluebird was the most amazing thing she had ever seen. It was supernatural really.

Thinking about this couple inspired her to get up for a while, and work on Bluebird’s wedding dress. Holds the Fire, had given her the tremendous honor of helping to make it. It was a beautiful white buckskin, with fringes and beadwork. Prairie Flower loved doing beadwork and as she sewed carefully she heard her husband gently snore. She loved hearing that sound, and smiled because of it.

She would also be installing a beautiful and distinctive blue color at the top of the dress. The Grie were known far and wide, for this color they used so often, to decorate their clothing and horses. It reminded her people of the blue sky and deep blue lakes.

She decided that in the morning she would talk to him. She had a peace about this, and she knew deep down they would stay. She would also tell him about the new child she was carrying. She smiled again, realizing how close this would draw them together.

 Brown and White Vanner

Note: Next time – the wedding! Blessings of peace to you!

Writing © Copyright 2014, nicodemasplusthree

Time Together

Leslie Deer
Leslie Deer


The more she learned about him the more she loved him. When he told Bluebird about leaving his original village near the coast, she cried. She was horrified about his people dying, and that the village was mostly abandoned. She thought out loud that maybe the Grie and Tsi should go and fight the bad people there. He pondered this for a moment and said, “Then we would be no better than they are”. She cried again and held a hand over her mouth, this time because she was so happy the Creator had given her this particular man.

Both the Grie and Tsi people made sure the young couple had time together. They talked freely for hours, only occasionally stumbling over words, smiling or laughing about it. Sometimes they were outside but mostly they were in a lodge. A lot of shifting had taken place since the Grie people arrived. The Tsi people were one of the few that had lodges for their supplies. This was especially important in the winter, and included food for their horses. Supplies and people were moved so that each of the Grie families now had their own lodge. The young couples did share their space, but only with extra supplies of food.

Thunder Speaking was living alone in his lodge again, which was good for having people visit. Bull Elk and Seven Hawks were regular visitors. At first he thought the visits were just social, but he caught on they were also teaching him about the Grie people. Their origins and customs were of a particular interest to him. They spent hours talking together, eating, and smoking the pipe.

As his love for her grew, there were times when she came to his lodge, and he loved these times! She would fuss over his arm, and they both were busy setting up the lodge for when they were married. They talked about their lives and their dreams. They often kissed, and held one another, but stopped before it went any further. “Soon” they both said, smiling.

Since they were near the forest some of the Grie and Tsi men went deer hunting, and Thunder Speaking went along for the ride, even though he could not hold a bow yet. They were stretching their supplies by going hunting in between storms. The Grie were clearly impressed with the fact that there were so many deer and elk living in the area. Bull Elk spoke in perfect Tsi, “this is a good land”.

When his mother, Cricket in the Meadow, came to visit she always spoke about her relationship with Lone Horse. He learned about men and women, how they see things differently, what makes them think a certain way, and how to resolve conflicts. She did this by telling stories, and what she and Lone Horse did in different situations. He could clearly see a light coming from her face. She would often stir the fire when she spoke, but he could also see the image of Lone Horse’s spirit sitting next to her, nodding his head in agreement, and smiling. Thunder Speaking always thanked his mother for these visits but he really had no words to express his gratitude for the gifts of wisdom that she shared.

After she left, he would always sit alone and ponder her words. She truly was a mother to him, and he knew without a doubt, that the Creator was living in this village – his village – and that he belonged here…. among the Tsi and Grie people.

Friesen in the Snow

Writing © Copyright 2014, nicodemasplusthree

A New Home – Part II

Flathead Valley, Canada
Flathead Valley, Canada

The day after the search party left, the people in the Tsi village waited patiently. They kept searching the horizon, hoping to get a glimpse of their return. The young people were especially diligent with looking for them. They wanted to be the first ones to shout the good news. There was much speculation, as to what the search party might find. Were the Grie still alive? Why were they traveling in winter? How many were there? These and other questions were the talk of the day.

The snow was deep after all, but as the day wore on, the concern grew. The people became concerned now for the search party too. Nightfall came and they had no choice but to retreat to their lodges. The cold was setting in.

Thunder Speaking was alone again in his lodge. As he was building his fire, he thought about the dreams he had been having for the past several nights. He held his hands up to the flames and enjoyed the warmth, thinking about the woman. He had been dreaming about the same woman. In the dreams they were not physical with each other (not yet), but they were always about the two spending time together. They were running through summer fields, chasing each other, falling down, laughing, playing the children’s game called hoops and darts, and walking by the river. He remembered one dream where they were sitting under an oak tree, in the fall, talking for a long time.

The strange thing was he could never see her face. He saw the outline of it, but her eyes, nose and mouth he could not see at all. He remembered in the dreams that he always tried to see what her face looked like, maybe to try and kiss her, but her face was not there. It was like a fog, and gray. What was that all about? Was there something wrong with her face?

At that exact moment Bluebird touched her face, and noticed that the swelling had gone down some more. There were still bruises though, and she knew she must look awful. She was traveling now, riding comfortably with the Tsi search party and her people. The Tsi men had been very good to them, and if they were any indication, she knew they would be welcomed in the Tsi village. She began to see the fires of the village on the horizon. A happy and nervous excitement was building.

In the village, Thunder Speaking laid down still pondering the woman in his dreams. He rolled over and tried to sleep. He wasn’t sure what it all meant, and it was not something he could talk to his mother about.

Once the village was asleep the search party rode in, yelling and causing a commotion. The village erupted with jubilation. Everyone came out to greet them, and there was a lot of hugging, and greeting the Grie people. There was singing, back slapping and well wishes. Only a few of the Tsi knew the Grie language but they talked anyway. Cricket in the Meadow knew the language, and talked up a storm with both the women and the men. Some spoke about holding a dance, and celebrating all night, but the Grie needed rest more than anything.

And then she saw him. After experiencing about thirty hugs from women she did not know, and hearing nothing but a language she did not know, Bluebird saw him. She knew it was him and she stared. He was watching the crowd of people.

He was the most handsome man she had ever seen. Her heart did a flip inside of her. The voice in the vision did not say he was so handsome! Were those sea shells? Did that mean he was not Tsi? He grew more exciting by the moment. Oh no! He saw her staring at him. She looked down immediately. He looked away.

Somehow they both got the courage to look at each other. They both knew. It all made sense to Thunder Speaking now. Her with bruised and swollen face, and his broken arm, both had left their people and sought refuge with the Tsi. They were two broken people that would heal each other. The voice of the vision spoke to her again, and said, “You will be married….and soon!”.

It wasn’t until the next day that she found out his name. When she heard what his name was, she yelled, “Oh!” and began weeping in front of everyone in the lodge, and holding a hand to her face. There was joy that went very deep, and she remembered the thunder in her vision. Her mother held her close, and both her mother and father wanted to know what the matter was. She cried like a child, but managed to blurt out the words, “….his name is Thunder Speaking!”

from Etsy
from Etsy

This is not only a microfiction blog, but it is flowing so strongly from deep within, that I will keep going with it. Next time the story will continue with “Two Peoples”. Thanks for reading!

Writing © Copyright 2014, nicodemasplusthree

A New Home


Mounds of snow began moving and shifting, as the people pushed upward and began rolling out of their cocoon of buffalo blankets. They were all alive and grateful for it. Bull Elk was especially grateful and he broke out in a song prayer, and everyone else joined in. It was an ancient prayer of gratitude, and of asking for help.

It went:

Great Spirit thank you that we are alive today,

we are the people of the earth,

the people of the earth,

help us and give us strength,

to live again today,

to live again today,

We want to live.

It was late in the day now, and there was not much time to do anything other than discuss what to do. Their horses were gone, which meant they had no supplies. Holds the Fire, and Prairie Flower each had a basket of food, which might last them a day, if they ate little. The snow was waist high now and it would be impossible to walk through without getting too wet and cold. No one wanted to die that way.

“We cannot give up, we must keep trying, and go forward.” Bluebird was surprised that it came out of her mouth, but it did. Her father was surprised too, but not her mother. Holds the Fire smiled because she was always proud of her daughter, but especially now. Bluebird came up with the idea of moving the snow out of the way, or least some of it so they could walk through it. She saw the baskets, picked one up and said, “…we can use these.”

They took turns in teams of twos, each person with a basket. It was a desperate attempt really, but at least they were trying, like Bluebird said. They moved the snow to the side, one to the left and the other to the right. By nightfall they had made some progress. Tomorrow they would eat the last of their food and they would keep trying.

Some distance away, the search party had had a tough time making it through the deep snow. Their progress had been much slower than they had hoped. When night fell, they had no choice but to stop. They camped near some trees and built a fire. They were convinced they were not far from the Grie, the trail of the Grie horses showed they were close.

Off in the far distance the fifteen Grie people were tired and hungry, and they bedded down again, without a fire. If they would have waited a few more minutes before bedding down, they would have seen a fire glowing on the far horizon. It was the fire of the Tsi search party.

The next morning they were found. Every single one of the Grie shouted, jumped up and down, and some prayed. They all hugged each other, and cried like children, even the men.

A New Home Part II will be posted next time! I love writing these.


Snow Bound

Writing © Copyright 2014, nicodemasplusthree

Thunder Speaking – Part II

colorized photograph
colorized photograph

The next day, Standing on the Mountain met with all the people outside. There was no lodge big enough to hold everyone, so they built a large fire in the center of the village. Once everyone was assembled he began telling the people about the dream, and what the horse had said. He told them all about what he saw and heard, and why Thunder Speaking had left his village. He was a man without a people.

As he was finishing, the people heard the hoof beats of a horse running very fast. It was the horse of Thunder Speaking! They were in shock as the horse circled the village at top speed. Thunder Speaking was the only one not in the crowd, but when he heard the horse running, he came out of his lodge. He knew it was his black and white. He went to the edge of the village, and watched the blur that was his horse. He was so fast it was hard to tell the exact coloring of the animal.

After four times of circling the village, the horse stopped right where Thunder Speaking was standing. The horse greeted him with loud snorting, foot stomping, and head shaking. Thunder Speaking gently spoke to the great animal and stroked his nose and neck. They seemed to talk to each other. By this point all the people were watching them, and their circle opened up, so everyone could see them better.

In the distance some rolling thunder could be heard. This was very unusual because the sky was blue and it was cold. The people could not understand the noise. The man Thunder Speaking now had his head against the horse, and his lips were moving. Was he praying? Were they saying goodbye? No one could tell.

The sound of thunder came closer, and a dark cloud suddenly appeared over the people. As it did, the black and white stallion rose up on his hind legs and yelled in the horse language a loud yell. A bolt of lightning cracked open the sky, and the earth shook with thunder. The people crouched down instinctively and looked at the sky, fearing for their lives. They held onto each other, and many closed their eyes.

And then all was quiet. They looked up and there was no more cloud, the sky was blue again. There was no lightning or thunder. As one, they looked over at the man called Thunder Speaking, and he was alone. The horse had vanished! No one saw or heard the horse leave, but he was not there.

Thunder Speaking was not afraid of what he had seen or heard, but he did turn toward the people hoping they would accept him. He wanted this village to be his home, and these people to be his people.

No one ever saw the black and white stallion again. Thunder Speaking did become part of the people, and he became the son of Cricket in the Meadow.

by Miriam Sweeney
by Miriam Sweeney

Writing © Copyright 2014, nicodemasplusthree