Live In the Moment

Note: their is a glossary at the end that contains the translation of the words with a (*). Those words were originally used by the Cherokee tribe.

*Sidanelv Day,

I’ve finally convinced myself to write down my thoughts on paper, so here I am. I’ve also made a friend, but I'll talk about him later. First things first, I’ll begin with a solid introduction of my sidanelv.

I have one witty brother, a loving mother, and a fearless father. The four of us are part of the Shoshone tribe; there is plenty of food to go around and the weather is good. Each day, the women gather berries found in the forest that borders our camp and the men hunt.

So, if the men are unsuccessful in their daily hunting out on the prairies we are able to feast on roasted fruits we had gathered that day.

When we’re lucky and the men bring home buffalo meat, there is a huge celebration and everyone gathers around a big bonfire to tell stories. My older brother, Takoda, and my *Agidoda, who is the chief of our tribe, are part of the hunting group so they have the responsibility to ride out on horseback every day at the crack of dawn to hunt down buffalo.

Belonging to the hunting group is a huge honor in our tribe, but it also places a great uneasiness and burden on families. Family members of hunters are frequently worried about their fathers, sons, brothers, uncles, or cousins getting trampled by a stampede of wild buffalos or thieves robbing them.

I believe that it is a dangerous but daring life to live. Alas, my *Agitsi and I are constantly anxious when they hunt, but it is a relief to us that Agidoda leads the expedition so we know that Takoda is in good hands.

Besides, my absolute favorite part of the day is when the men return from their hunting because that’s when Takoda and Agidoda’s hunting adventures are re-enacted to me in a mini production.

Since women are not allowed to hunt, it is always a thrill when they reenact their adventures on the prairies to me. I never become bored of their performances no matter how many times it is acted out or how old I become. 

Even so, Agitsi always lectures me to grow up and carry in her footsteps as a seamstress often reminding me that I was already fifteen, old enough to marry. I respect and love Agitsi, but I’ve always longed to join Takoda and Agidoda on a hunt and feel the sensation of being open and free on the prairies, like they do.

Finally, there's me. I’m known as the daughter of the chief. While hunting down berries or sewing at camp plenty of girls gather around me to talk and call themselves my friends, but I don’t feel as if I have any real friends. Well, that was before I met Kitchi. I have to meet up with him right now, but I promise to write more.

Daughter of the Chief,

Aiyana

*Unali Day,

In this entry, I will retell the meeting of my new friend, Kitchi, who is truly a kindred spirit. I may not be the best story teller, but I hope my words will be sufficient enough to fulfill their purpose.

***

It all started two days ago when I went berry gathering with my tribe, the Shoshones, in the forest near our camp. The fruit picking in the forest passed as usual with the occasional chatter of conversations, the chirping of sparrows in the lush treetops, and the bubbling stream beside our route. That companionable stream often filled our ears with delightful music from Mother Nature.

During the daily berry picking expedition, I slackened my pace, inspected every flower, and listened to nature’s hushed voice. I must have dawdled behind my group because when I looked up from nature’s beauty they were nowhere in sight.

My so called friends were probably too chatty to even notice my nonexistent presence, but I wasn’t at all worried. I wasn't hurt by their forgetfulness and thankfully, I knew the way through the forest like the back of my hand, so I was not lost. I’m quiet by nature, so it makes perfect sense for my group to accidentally abandon me.

I decided to venture to my secret spot in the forest with knowledge that my sudden departure from my group would not raise much alarm, since my disappearances happened regularly. In addition, the wolves, bears, and other vile creatures of the forest only surfaced during the nighttime so my tribe knew that I would be safe as long as the sun guarded the sky. They also knew that I was resourceful and much too intelligent to perform anything rash.

With these thoughts in mind, I strolled through the forest listening to the squirrels and other small animal's feet pad against the soft earthy floor. I felt so alive and free as the warm rays of the sun seeped into my delicate skin.

I later took a break at a fast moving stream to supply my thirst and hunger that my trek had caused. I bent over on my knees, cupped my hands, and filled them with crystal clear water. Just as the refreshing and rejuvenating stream water poured down my throat, it also drenched my colorful beaded buffalo leather dress, already damp from my kneeling on the dewy green grass.

Once my thirst was quenched, I layed by the side of the green grassy bank that overlooked the gurgling stream while I weaved a crown of daisies and watched small fish dart down the stream. Every now and then, I popped in a few sweet wild blackberries from my hand-weaved berry basket.

As the sun hit the middle of the sky, I ended my break and moved on again. The rest of my journey was short and I had almost arrived at my secret place when a loud continuous cry, almost like an infant’s wail, caused the birds around me to abandon their post on their tree branches in fright/alarm.

I quickly but cautiously inched toward the noise that produced the sound of distress. Meanwhile, I racked my brain for different animal calls that Agitsi taught me but it was to no avail. Once I’ve reached the source of the sound my heart stopped beating and I stared at the thing creating the noise with sorrow.

The creature that made the noise was a small fawn who had its back right hoof caught in a metal snare. The unmerciful jaws of the trap grazed and sank its teeth into his tender sandy colored flesh. So much fear and pain emitted from the animal’s huge and innocent amber eyes that it took me much effort to cease staring at the poor thing.

After I recovered from my immediate shock, a rustling of wind disrupted a bunch of fallen leaves at my feet which caused the fawn’s ears to suddenly prick up and bore his majestic eyes into me almost as if it pleaded, Will you help me? We made eye contact and it was too late for me to retreat to my camp to call for help for fear of producing another fatal tear around its already bloody ankle.

I slowly dropped my gaze and made relaxed movements so as not to further scare the deer. In all my lessons with Agitsi, I’ve learned that when confronted with wild animals the key is to move with ease and remain calm because animals can smell your emotions.

I observed the trap and immediately recognized it as one of the inventions the New England hunters used to trap small animals such as rabbits or squirrels. Our tribe is required to stay inside the forest at all times ever since the travelers and their ships took possession of the sandy beaches that bordered our forest.

I looked in every direction for the sign of the fawn’s mother or any New England men, but I saw nothing. The next thing I did was set my berry basket down and looked for a long stick I could use to prod open the trap.

When I finally found a lengthy tree branch I slowly walked toward the panicked animal, softly humming a melody we often sang around our bonfire. The fawn calmed down a bit, but blood was still issuing forth from his hind leg.

Slowly, slowly, slowly the trap sprung open with a satisfactory click. When released from the snare, the deer promptly limped toward the more overgrown part of the forest. He clumsily stumbled over tree roots, leaving a crooked trail of crimson evidence in his path. Surely he wouldn’t live a day, especially during the night when the wolves would smell out his leaking blood.

I hurriedly tied together bits of twine from my basket and approached the stumbling deer. I offered a ripe blackberry to him which he curiously smelled, nudging his moist black nose into my palm. After he took my offer, he prodded his head into my arm as if asking for more. I quickly placed the handmade twin lead over the fawn’s head and fed him another juicy berry.

The sun is close to setting and I knew that we needed to get to camp quickly before the wild animals of night began to prowl. An injured fawn and a defenseless girl would serve any predators appetite. With this horrible thought in mind, I convinced the wounded deer to move with a convincing proposal of berries.

***

We arrived at camp by sunset. Everybody was worried and the sight of the tethered fawn was expressed with great surprise. I was exhausted and so was the deer. My family greeted me joyfully with tender hugs as the fawn was taken from me to our camp healer.

A dose of Agitsi’s herbal tea has restored me enough to finish this entry. I’ve used way too much of our taper and paper supply to write this, but I believe it was worth it. Tomorrow morning, I will check on, Kitchi, which is the fawn’s new name. Good night.

Daughter of the Chief,

Aiyana

*Shaman Day,

Good news; Kitchi will be fine! The shaman told me that his recovery will take about two weeks with the correct application of medicinal herbs and plenty of rest. I’m so glad. The shaman also informed me that she needed to stay up all night with Kitchi because his wound was so severe. Thankfully, our tribe has the best shaman in the world, Sacagawea.

I should probably begin with a quick description when I first entered Sacagawea’s thatch hut. Setting foot in her shack was like entering a whole new world. There were glass bottles and jars that neatly aligned so many shelves. Numerous books were piled on top of each other in countless stacks. I had never seen so much knowledge before me.

I knew that Agitsi taught me to read and write, but we never had access to as many books as Sacagawea. I flipped through a particularly large book filled with pictures of exiotic plants and animals, but I couldn’t understand any of the words. It must be in a different language, I thought. I quickly took in the rest of the room and came to the conclusion that no one was inside but myself. With this in mind, I continued to explore.

As I closely examined a beautiful painting of an orange flower a voice said hello behind me which caused me to jump and hastily apologize to the owner for my rude entrance. I made a quick physical examination of the shaman: she had long brown hair the color of rich soil, tied neatly with blue ribbon in two thick braids. She was tall for her sixteen years and her name was well known throughout our tribe. If my memory will allow it, I might as well just recount a snippet of our conversation:

“Don’t apologize, there is no time for that. As I always say, curiosity is the key to knowledge. Follow me,” the shaman says with a wink and a smile, “I have a surprise for you.”

I obediently listen, very much intrigued with her bluntness. I follow her as she walks outside her hut to a small thatched stable. I peer inside but see nothing.

“Come out, little deer! You have a visitor,” Sacagawea hollers in a kind voice.

Amber eyes peek out behind a stall, which is meant for a pony, and out comes four spindling legs with one wrapped in a slightly red bandage.

“Thank goodness Kitchi’s alright, I was so worried about him. This is a great surprise shaman.”

“Kitchi is a perfect name for this little fighter, but that wasn’t the real surprise,” she responds mysteriously.

I remain silent, waiting patiently for Sacagawea to continue. While I wait, I dangle my arms over the stable fence, allowing Kitchi to lick my hand.

“I have good news and bad news. Do you have a preference over which one to hear first?”

“Good news, please.”

“Good news it is, then. The deer, Kitchi, is not a boy but a girl. Last night, when I was inspecting her I discovered that she is with a child. She is expected any day now. Another bit of surprising news is that Kitchi is not a fawn, but a full grown deer. Her species is just of a smaller size, so that’s why you probably thought her a fawn.”

“That is incredible, shaman! How could I not notice?”

“Sometimes it’s hard to tell. Without my equipment, I wouldn’t have known either,” Sacagawea replies as she looks down at me, her warm eyes filling me with bubbling joy.

“Now, time for the bad news,” she sighs deeply before continuing on, “two New Englander explorers named Meriwether Lewis and William Clark are harbored with their ship on the beach. Tomorrow, they will venture into our forest and beyond to learn about the terrain, animal species, and climates to report back to their leader and report their findings.

“My husband and I have been chosen to guide them through their journey since we are more native to the land than them and we will also act the position of a translator,” Sacagawea pauses to look down at Kitchi who is now trying to roll in the musty hay that litters the stable ground. She laughs quietly and resumes where she had trailed off.

“We leave at once. I just want you to know that I’m doing this for my people and to prove to the world that we are stronger when we work together. All the same, the reason I am telling you all this is because I won’t be able to be with Kitchi when she gives birth. Lomasi will step in as temporary shaman when I am gone so it is important that Kitchi stays with her most of the time. Do you understand?”

“Yes, shaman.”

“*Donadagohvi, little Aiyana.”

My conversation with Sacagawea was over. As quickly as it had started, it ended just as soon. I then asked permission to take Kitchi with me for a walk at the edge of the forest, and I was graciously granted it.

While I slipped a lead over Kitchi’s head, I reminisced over Sacagawea’s inspirational words to me: to do everything for our people. In my mind, I answered yes and then she left. I must take Kitchi out for her walk again before nighttime. I’ll write more later.

Daughter of the Chief,

Aiyana

*Usdi Day,

Many months have passed since Sacagawea has left, but that’s beside the point. Today, the day came when two pairs of quizzical amber eyes laid eyes on me.

It happened when the lights of the night peeped out, hidden during the sun’s reign. Unleashed, untethered, and unhindered by the sun the stars began to prepare for the nightly merry making the moon hosted. It was me and the deer. The deer and me. Nothing else mattered but the delicate infant fawn. Only myself, God, the stars, and the mother witnessed this newborn fawn’s first breath of air on Earth.

It was nighttime when this breathtaking event occurred. Lomasi was not present when it took place because she had ventured into the edge of the forest to look for some pain killer herbs for Kitchi. It was me and the deer. The deer and me.

The young blinking stars had already begun their graceful ascent to attend the night sky’s ball. As the starry party in the sky commenced, Kitchi lay on the stable ground and her breath quickened as her amber eyes shut tightly in pain. I hardly assisted her pain with a harmonious lullaby while the stars danced mockingly above. I could sense Kitchi’s fear issuing from her amber eyes.

The stars grew even more numberless as more guests arrived fashionably late. All of a sudden, the star of the show stole the show. The empress of the night sky was steadily rising, rising, rising. The sovereign lessened the stars’ beauty and grace to nothing in comparison to it. Finally, reaching its highest peak in the sk, the moon outshined them all with its milky smooth face and deep battle wounds that its noticeable craters left.

With the lady of the ball present, the dance of the night sky began merrily. The heavens twinkled in silence as the leaves of the forest whispered inaudible phrases. It was perfect.

Then, there were two. Kitchi and her fawn lay curled up in the soft hay and slept in peace. During their slumber, I named the fawn Citali after the stars that provided peace to the world that night. It was me and the deer. The deer and me.

Daughter of the Chief,

Aiyana

Glossary:

* sidanelv: family

*unali: friend

*agidoda: father

*agitsi: mother

*shaman: healer

*honadagohvi: until we meet again

*usdi: baby