Elijah the Water Diviner

A man walked out of the Dead Mountain Wilderness area wearing the traditional robes of a shaman.  His name was Elijah Foster and he had been reported missing over fifty years ago.  His sudden appearance sent shock waves through the remote communities of the Mojave Desert in California. According to first hand accounts, Elijah appeared not to have aged a bit since his disappearance and he was confused and disoriented after his Rip van Winkle disappearance a half century before.

His father was a Paiute shaman, a follower of Wovoka who started the Ghost Dance cults.  Based in both Christian and ancient spiritual beliefs of the native peoples, the Ghost Dance was made famous by the Lakota who wore the shirts that were supposed to stop bullets during the Wounded Knee Massacre when they found out the shirts were not bulletproof. Shaman Marakado Foster, simply known as Marty when he was a ranch hand at the Hanson Ranch outside of Henderson, Nevada.  When he wasn’t working as a ranch hand, he would use his dowser to find underground water in the driest place in the country. He would teach his son Elijah how to be a water diviner.  As Elijah would come to find, being a water diviner was a lucrative way to earn a living while most of his people struggled on the reservations.  

One day a rich rancher hired Elijah to search for water near the Dead Mountain in 1925, but Elijah was never heard from again.  Popular suspicion pointed to Ryland McDowell, the rich rancher who had hired Elijah.  Whatever the case, when Elijah stumbled out of a cave that dotted the mountains, it caused quite a stir.    

“I just don’t get it.” Hank Bowden remarked as he put a bridle on a young horse he had been trying to break.

“I wouldn’t put much stock in it, you know how folks like to twist things around out here.” His son Lance chuckled as he leaned against the fence, his hat pushed back to keep the early afternoon sun out of his eyes.  It was already hot, too hot to be breaking horses as far as Lance was concerned. 

“Folks tell how Ryland McDowell did him in up there in the mountains while the old shaman was using his dowser to find water.” Hank rode the colt out into the middle of the corral.

“Don’t let it get to you, pa, Ryland is long gone.” He spit on the dusty ground.

“Yeah, but his grandson, Barry, is kind of riled.” Hank bounced in the saddle, but was pleased with the progress of his roan colt. 

“Barry?  He’s just a corporate pawn.” Lance shook his head.

“Our well is healthy.” Hank rode over toward the fence where his son was standing. 

“Healthy according to our last inspection.” He spit again. 

“Plenty of underwater runoff.” Hank dismounted.

“As far as we know.” Lance opened the gate so his father could exit the corral. 

“I’m going to let him run for a bit.” Hank locked the gate.

“He’s sure got lots of energy.” He nodded.

But the summer that year brought a drought.  Even though the annual rainfall was under ten inches, the ten inches never came and the snow run off did not provide enough for the underground wells that most of the ranchers on the High Desert depended on to provide their livestock with enough water. 

When the June inspection of their well was accomplished, Lance noted that there might not be enough water to meet the needs of the ranch.  While the ranch had done well financially, Hank doubted they could afford to import water to meet their requirements. 

“What do you want to do, pa?” Lance asked.

“Do we know how to get in touch with that Injun?” He asked, closing the ledger to the ranch.

“I could ride out to where I heard he had a trailer.” Lance shrugged.

“He lives in a trailer?” Hank looked up at his son. 

“That’s what I’ve heard.” He nodded.

“Well, bring him here.  We can pay him for her services as a water diviner.” Hank kicked his chair back and stood up.

“I’ll take the jeep.” Lance replied,

“Take your brother Jess.” Hank ordered.

“Sure thing, pa.” He walked out of his father’s office and went looking for Jessie.  Hank sighed looking at his ledger. It was already a difficult year and the summer had not yet arrived.  

Driving up the dirt road toward the Dead Mountains, Jesse wore his bandana over his mouth and nose to keep the dust out while his older brother didn’t bother since he was used to it. 

“So, who are we looking for?” Jesse tried to speak through the bandana.

“Some shaman named Elijah Foster.” Lance answered. 

“I’ve heard of him.” Jesse nodded as the jeep jolted across the gravel road, “He was that guy who wandered out of the mountains after being gone for fifty years.” 

“Yup, that’s the guy.” Lance affirmed. “I see it.”

“Hard to believe that anyone lives out here.” Jesse noted. 

“Sure is pretty desolate out here.” Lance chuckled as he pulled into the short  driveway.

From the door of an ancient Airstream Trailer, burst a man armed with a shotgun.

“Must be him.” Jesse was a little startled by his sudden appearance. 

“Holy-!” Lance couldn’t even finish his statement.

“What do you want?” Elijah Foster stood before them raising his shotgun.

“We are looking for Elijah Foster.” Lance put his hands in the air hoping the man would not see them shake.

“Well, you found him.” He lowered his shotgun, “What do you want?” 

“My father, Hank Bowden, sent us to hire you.” Lance put his hands back on the steering wheel.

“Hire me for what?” Elijah tilted his head.

“As a water diviner.” Lance sighed.

“I thought your ranch had plenty of water.” Elijah lifted his chin.

“We did up until our last check.  We’re not going to make it through the summer.” Lance replied.

“I warned a lot of folks about that.” He shrugged.  From a closer look, Lance noted that the old shaman with his silver black hair that hung down to his shoulders and his leathery skin, Elijah did not look much older than about sixty years old.  Dressed in buckskin and Levi jeans, he looked like a lot of the patrons that hung out at some of the cowboy bars in Bakersfield that Lance would frequent on Saturday nights.  He and his friends were known to pick on some of the natives who dared invade these establishments where they would get too drunk to stand. Once they were in this state of inebriation, it was easy to pick their pockets and rough them up a bit for fun.  

“We’d be willing to pay top dollar.” Lance hoped the old man would not recognize him from one of those cowboy bars.

“Alright. Let me put away my shotgun. I had some unwanted visitors last night.” He began walking back to his trailer.

“He lives in that heat box?” Jesse sniffed.

“I reckon so.” Lance nodded.

“Makes me grateful we got what we got.” Jesse leaned back in his seat.

“I guess some folks aren’t so lucky.” He punched his brother in the arm.

“Knock it off.” Jesse whined. “One day I’ll be as big as you, moron, and then you’ll be in for a world of hurt.” 

“Well, it’s going to be a long time before that happens.” Lance laughed.

“I’m ready.” Elijah said.

“Climb in.” Lance pointed to the backseat with his thumb.   Elijah complied and got himself settled in the backseat as Lance started the engine. 

“It will be a summer with no rain.  Not even the Monsoon will quench the thirst of this parched land.” Elijah declared as Lance circled the small trailer and headed back down the incline.  

“So how long have you been living here?” Lance asked his guest.

“All my life.” He answered.  Lance looked at Jesse as his brother shrugged.

“I heard you had disappeared for a spell.” Lance stated.

“I wasn’t lost.” He declared, “I was just not found.” 

Again Lance looked at his brother who had a strange expression on his face. For the rest of the forty minute journey, it was silent as Lance did not wish to continue their strange conversation.

Hank walked from the shady porch to greet his visitor when Lance pulled up in the driveway with the water diviner.

“Hello, it is good to meet you.” Hank shook Elijah’s hand.

“I heard you needed the powers of a water diviner.” He said with an acknowledgment of his purpose for being at the ranch. 

“Yes, it appears we are going to have a dry summer.” Hank walked Elijah to the front porch where it was cooler.

“I have been warming people of what is to come.” He sat in an Adirondacks chair next to where Hank had been sitting upon their arrival.   

“I will pay you handsomely for your services.” Hank assured him.

“I do not need money for the magic I bring.  Paying me would not compensate the proper entity.” He sniffed the air and closed his eyes. “I feel the presence of what you seek.” 

“Really?  Water?” 

“Correct.” He sat there with his eyes closed.

“Boys, go get him some refreshments.” He motioned with his hand.

“Water.  Water only.” He sniffed again without opening his eyes. 

“Water it is.” Lance nodded and slapped Jesse on the shoulder. Both of them ran inside to leave their father to speak to the strange man sitting next to him on the porch.

“Who is your father talking to?” Wilma, their mother, asked.

“Some shaman.” Jesse picked up some of what his mother was preparing for dinner and popped it into his mouth. “Hey mister, leave it be.” 

“Sure mom.” He smiled and winked at Lance who got his hand slapped for doing the same.  

“I heard strange things about him.” She mentioned as she continued to cut the carrots.

“Well, he does not disappoint.” Lance said. 

“He disappeared for fifty years.” She nodded.

“And he talks like it.” Lance shook his head.

“Have a little empathy.” She glanced up at her oldest son. 

“Alright, no matter how loony he is.” Lance smirked at Jesse who was already smiling. 

Elijah raved about the splendid meal that had been prepared as Wilma gushed with each superlative compliment.  Both of the boys sat there exchanging glances with each other while Hank seemed to become part of the scenery, eager to help clean up after the meal was over.  When Hank went to show Elijah to the guest room prepared for him, he did not see him.  Walking out onto the porch, he found his guest sitting by a fire he had made.

“Are you going to come inside?” Hank sauntered up to him as he sat on the ground in front of the fire.

“No, I must keep a vigil out here with the spirits.” He did not turn to face Hank, “As a shaman, I must promise myself loyalty to my mother.” 

“Your mother?”

“Yes, Mother Earth, for it with her guidance I will find what you seek.” He bowed his head.

“When will you seek?” Hank squatted on his haunches next to Elijah. 

“In the morning before the sun rises above the horizon.” He replied, “I will use my dowser to search.” 

“Well, I will leave you to it.” Hank stood up and walked inside, “But if you need anything, please ask.” He said over his shoulder.  Once inside, Elijah was alone.

“We should go out there.” Jesse said, looking out the window at Elijah.

“What for?” Lance shrugged.

“Just look at him. Sitting there like some magic wizard. He’s just another drunk injun.” Jesse stated.  Lance sat back on his bunk.

“Sure, I'll go with you.” Lance nodded. 

“Midnight.” Jesse snapped his fingers.

“Done.” 

The boys hid in the barn with the horses.  They had a clear view of the water diviner who was chanting with words neither one of them understood.  

“What do you suppose he’s saying?” Jesse wondered aloud.

“I don’t know and I don’t care.” Lance shook his head.

“What do you want to do?” Jesse bubbled with excitement.  

“I want to kick out his fire and then kick his ass.” Lance chuckled.  Although Lance Bowden was nearly twenty-five years old, he had never had to mature living on his father’s ranch.  He had no intention of showing any signs of becoming his own person as long as he lived on the ranch.  Jesse was going to graduate high school the following year, but together the boys enjoyed the juvenile hijinx they were about to impart on Elijah.  Neither one could see that what they were about to do was wrong. 

Lance was first out of the barn, walking up to Elijah with his hands behind his back.  

“Hey there chief.” He addressed Elijah who was sitting by the fire with his eyes closed.  He did not look up at Lance.

“Did you hear me or are you deaf?” Lance sat next to Elijah.

“I heard you, but I am in the middle of my prayers and do not wish to be disturbed.” He said without opening his eyes.

“Really?  Who are you praying to?” Lance asked innocently.

“The spirits to guide me to the water your father seeks.” He continued to keep his eyes closed which angered Lance.

“What if we decided to kick this fire out?”

“Then I would pray in the dark.” He answered with his eyes still closed.

“You know, I think the whole thing was a hoax.” Lance put his hands on his hips, but Elijah just sat there. 

“Hoax? What do you mean?” 

“I mean that disappearing for fifty years.” Lance’s voice reflected his growing anger.

“I was being chased by some men who wished to do me harm.” He said in a calm voice, “Mother Earth hid me from my enemies.”

Lance stroked his chin with his hand, “Is that so?” 

By this time Jesse was hiding behind some rocks a few yards out from the fire. 

“I must warn you that I am protected by forces with power you cannot reckon with.” He opened his eyes and looked at Lance.  When Lance saw Elijah’s glowing red eyes, he gasped. “Too long Mother Earth has cried out for help and received no response. Now you have come to me for help and still you cannot appreciate what has been given to you.” 

“Who are you?” Lance put his arm over his eyes, but Elijah’s eyes grew brighter and brighter.

“I am the hot desert wind who will make you die of thirst.” His voice carried on the hot wind that now swirled around him.  Jesse called out from his hiding place, but he too was surrounded by the wind that kicked up the dust and rocks.  He was not wearing his bandana and felt the dirt scratch in his throat.

“Please, please…” Lance begged but the wind had lifted him off his feet.

“I have warned you of what was to come, but you did not listen.” Elijah’s voice seemed to come like thunder out of the sky.

“We will listen.” Lance promised as he was lifted higher into the air.  

“Water is a gift from our Mother.” He cried out.

The horses were screeching from their stalls in the barn.  

“You wished to do me harm.” Elijah called out from the heavens.

“No!  I promise!” Lance saw that he was at least fifty feet in the air.  His brother was crying as he was lifted like a piece of crumpled paper in a windstorm.  Elijah waved his hand and both boys disappeared.

The next morning Hank knocked on the doors of his sons’ rooms.  Both boys blinked awake. “Breakfast is on the table.  Come and get it.” 

Lance walked into Jesse’s room, “Did we dream that?”

“How could we both have the same dream?” Jesse yawned and stretched out his arms. 

“It happens.” Lance said more to convince himself than to answer his brother. 

“Me and Elijah want to go out into the field with his dowser stick.  Hank had never really been one to believe old superstitions, but at this point he was willing to try anything.  Even at sunup, the temperature was almost triple digits.  There was a wind that seemed to kick up over the mountains as he walked behind the shaman.  

“Do you feel that?” Elijah asked as he felt the stick pull him along. 

“What?” Hank asked.

“The wind.” Elijah answered. “I can hear the voices of my ancestors as it rushes through this arid land.” 

Hank tried to hear these voices, but was unable to hear a thing other than his own breathing. 

“Here.” Elijah stopped, “Dig your well here.” 

Hank looked down at the rocks and dirt beneath his feet.  He did not think it was possible that water would be hiding there.  Taking out a can of spray paint, Hank marked the spot. Much to his surprise when he turned, Elijah was no longer standing next to him with the dowser.

When Hank got back to the house, Lance and Jesse were eating their breakfast in silence which was nearly as unusual as the shaman vanishing into thin air.

“I marked the spot.  We will go digging a well in the evening when it’s cooler.” Hank said, but his sons just looked at him and nodded. 

“Is he still here?” Lance asked.

“No, strange thing, he just vanished into thin air.” Hank shook his head. Lance and Jesse looked at each other, but didn’t say a word.