Date: Sat, 31 Mar 2001 01:31:22 -0500
From: NailsB69@hotmail.com
Subject: The Bagboy - Chapter 15, revised.

Warning!  This story is about male-male love but this chapter has no
graphic description of sex between consenting adult males.  If you don't
want to read the story, or it is illegal for you to do so, STOP and LEAVE!
All others may continue.  Please send comments to the author; e-address at
the end.


				Ralph's Spirit Quest
			               The Bagboy, Chap. 15
				    by Bob Nelson


"Thank you for a wonderful supper, Mrs. Hansen," Ralph said to Mom as he
got up after eating.

"Oh, it was nothing special, but you are very welcome, Ralph.  We hope
you'll stay with us until you feel comfortable in Lynchburg.  It's a nice
town and close enough that you can get back to your mountains."

"Yes, Ma'am.  I'd like to go back to visit my Grandfather and Grandmother
before they die."

"Are they sick?"  Mom asked with a worried look.  "When did you see them
last?"

"I don't know if they are sick.  I haven't seen them for almost four years
but both looked healthy then."

"Didn't they live close enough to visit?" Mom asked.

"No.  I was telling Bob and Greg that four years ago in the Spring I
searched them out, following my Mother's tale of how she came down to where
Cain found her.  She was pregnant with me, and had run away from her
family, thinking she had brought shame on them.  I decided to go to them
because my Mother had left Cain and me.  The next Spring he went off on a
bear hunt for two to four weeks and I was feeling lonely so I went up and
over two mountains, reversing the route she told me she took to come to our
hollow.  I told Bob and Greg how I found a cabin that looked right and
stood outside for an hour.  Then a man came out and I greeted him in
Cherokee, calling him Grandfather.  I was lucky -- he is my Grandfather,
and he taught me many things about becoming a Brave.  I'll tell you all
about them, sometime."

"That would be nice," Dad said, "We'd enjoy hearing all about it.  I am so
sorry the Cherokee were forced to leave their homes and orchards, moved
first to Georgia and then forced to walk to Oklahoma.  I think they called
that march "The Trail of Tears," didn't they, Ralph?"

"Yes sir, that's the closest it can be translated into English.  It's words
in Cherokee reflect the pain and loss a lot more than that simple phrase.
After I go back to visit my grandparents and learn more about it, in our
family history, I'll tell you about it from The People's memory."

"Thank you, Ralph.  We'd appreciate your telling us very much -- but only
if it does not violate any taboo or restrictions of your family or The
People.  I know that's the name for those we call Cherokee.  I think most
Native Americans called themselves something like that, though, so I'll
probably think of you as Cherokee, in the noblest sense and meaning of the
title."

"Thank YOU, Sir," Ralph said with a widening smile and a swelling of pride
in his whole persona.

Bob, Ralph and I excused ourselves to go outside to soak up some sun.  Mom
had suggested that the sun would help heal Bob's wound and surgery faster
than sitting inside.  She got us some sun block for it, though, and lighter
SPF for the rest of him -- and me.  Ralph was a beautiful light mahogany
tan already so I doubted that he'd need anything artificial to keep from
burning.  We settled onto individual deck loungers, able to lay out full
length and raise or lower the upper part from sitting up to flat out.  We
all chose to lie almost flat back.  Bob and I had dark shades.  Ralph
declined my offer, saying he could close down his eyes' allowance of
incoming light enough that he didn't need them.  One more amazing thing
about him!

" Would you both like to hear of my Spirit Quest?" he asked after we were
relaxed, soaking up rays.

Bob and l responded, "Yes!" and "Please tell us."

"Before I met my Grandfather I taught myself to walk and stand quietly.  I
could approach a deer, a bear or a turkey, sometimes close enough to touch.
My first visit to my Grandfather's he and my cousins taught me how to make
a bow, my own arrows, and clothes, using only a small knife.  When I went
back the Spring after my thirteenth birthday, my voice had changed and I
had some hair on places I hadn't had any before."

Ralph paused, not sure if he should explain further so I encouraged him,

"Yes, Ralph, all boys grow taller, get hair in new places, get stronger,
and their voice changes."

"There were new feelings of excitement, some tingles when I did dangerous
things -- good tingles, like I was able to handle myself and control how
much danger I was in.  But some yearnings to find out about my mother's
people and my heritage.  I didn't find out until Cain shot Bob here that
I'm NOT his son, thank God, but even then four to five years ago I
wondered.  I didn't look like him or act like him, and I guess I didn't
have the same feelings as him.  I was curious about the woods, loved to
watch the animals, the trees, the sky, and even the flowers.  Nature seemed
to talk to me and to be so wonderful.  Cain only wanted to kill or destroy
what he could.  He'd killed off everything within half a day's walk from
our cabin, even if we didn't need it to eat -- just for the pure 'fun' of
killing.  I never felt that, and would always wonder if I should shoot or
trap the animal that I had trailed."

"Anyway, when I got back to Grandfather's cabin, I again approached as
quietly as I could and stood in great respect fifty feet from his cabin.
Although I stood absolutely still, half hidden behind a bushy small tree,
Grandfather came out onto the porch and looked right at me after about
fifteen minutes.  That sent a shiver up my back, that he was so in tune
with his home place that he could feel or hear any changes that my coming
up made.  After what seemed like ten more minutes, he nodded at me, turned
around and went back inside without latching the door.  I took it as an
invitation and went in.  As soon as I got inside I greeted him and
Grandmother,

"O-si-yo, a-gi-du-da" I said to Grandfather, and "O-si-yo, a-gi-ki-ai" to
my Grandmother, making a small head bow to each.

"Ga-li-e:-l-gai," said Grandfather, with a bare trace of a smile. "Did you
wash in our creek?"

I wondered if he heard that, too, but decided that he knew I should wash my
hands and face, to purify myself to some extent before entering his house.

"Yes, Grandfather.  I washed before I approached."

"Good.  You remember well.  Come.  Eat."

As I had answered, Grandmother got up, went to the fireplace, pulled the
big iron kettle out on its iron hinged hook, and scooped out something into
a bowl.  She picked up a spoon and handed both to me.  That's when I
realized that the bowl was a well worn and polished turtle shell and the
spoon was a carved cow's horn.  The mush in the bowl smelled nutty, and
when I tasted it I realized it was acorn and cornmeal mush.  All natural.
I ate the modest portion, wondering if it was mostly ritual or the
beginning of my summer's training to eat less than I wanted.  I wiped one
last bit out the bowl with my right index finger when I was done, sucked my
finger without making noise, and handed the bowl and spoon back to
Grandmother.

"Do-na-go-hv-i, a-gi-ki-ai," using the form respectfully to thank her.

"O:-s-da, Yo-nva a-tsu-tsa."  she answered.

" Yo-nva a-tsu-tsa?" I asked.

She just smiled and looked over at Grandfather.  I looked at him and waited
for him to explain.

"Yo-nva a-tsu-tsa is our term for Little Boy Bear, an affectionate name we
give all boy children until they earn their real name in the tribe.  This
summer is your time to go on a Spirit Quest to find your name, your totem,
and your Spirit.  We will prepare you to search and to recognize what you
will find, then the rest is up to you."

That was the longest speech I ever heard my grandfather make, and his words
burned themselves into my being.  Soon I would truly find and learn my
mother's heritage for me, from her mother and father!  The following five
weeks were spent learning to see more of Nature than I had ever noticed --
how the wind and sunlight changed so often, and what that did to the trees,
plants, and even the creeks and animals.  How to walk and stand so quietly
that I could finally approach the cabin without Grandfather knowing I was
there.  In short, I became one with Nature -- flowing with and in it, not
fighting it or trying to destroy it as Cain and most other white men do.  I
learned to appreciate the mixed forest, with hardwoods and pine trees,
dogwoods and redbuds, each in its appropriate place, with open meadows and
flowing streams.  It was truly a Homecoming to my grandparents' ways, to
the People.  It was a feeling of soaring high as an eagle then hiding under
a bush like a small rabbit.  Each animal, each growing thing, each rock and
hill in its place with the clouds, rain, sun, moon and days there for us to
enjoy and use wisely, not to take away anything, but to try to keep it and
even add something of value to it.  When I told Grandfather of my new way
of seeing things he told me, "Tlay-hum!  It is good!  Now you are ready for
your Spirit Quest.  Your Grandmother has taught you how to find enough of
the good things to eat to purify your body.  I have taught you to see and
live with Nature.  Now you must go on a three sleep walk in the direction
the Great Spirit takes you.  You must eat only purifying foods the first
two days, then nothing until you find a hole or cave to wait in for your
vision.  When the Spirit comes to you, it will reveal your animal totem
which will be your clan of the tribe, your earth totem which is whether you
will be a hill man, a forest man, a water man or an in-tribe man -- a
hunter, a gatherer, a fisherman or a farmer.  That is, how you will best
help the tribe.  Your direction of the four, your type of sky for doing
your job.  All will be revealed to you if you truly open yourself to the
Great Spirit.  After your vision you will come out of your trance or sleep
and your totem animal will come to you, bringing something to revive and
sustain you until you make your way back here to tell me of your Quest.  Is
all that clear?"

After I thought, recalling all his words, I answered, "Not yet,
Grandfather, but you have told me enough to recognize the things I will
see, eat, touch, and use in my Spirit Quest.  I will come back to tell you
all that happens to me, that you may interpret those things which are
hidden from me."

"Well spoken, Grandson!  Now, go.  May the Great Spirit grant you a
successful Spirit Quest."

I woke early the next morning to find Grandmother ladling out a small
portion of mush into the turtle shell.  It smelled different and was very
bitter.  I looked at her questioningly, for Grandfather had told me that I
was not to speak from last night until after I returned, at which time I
was to tell only him the things that happened.  "It is our People's acorn
mush -- from before we trained the green corn plant to give us corn.  It is
bitter to help purge and purify your body.  Eat."

I ate and washed it down with water from the gourd hung on the side of our
inside water barrel -- it came from the spring, uphill.  I went out into
the pre-dawn chill, feeling excitement at this journey.  I wore only my
buckskin breech clout and moccasins, had only my smallest knife and short
hunting bow with two arrows.  My hair had grown long but was held back with
a buckskin thong.  I had darkened during the past five weeks and now looked
like I was of the People.  But I knew I would not really be one of the
People until the end of a successful Spirit Quest.  I faced the notch in
the hills where the sun would appear, then turned left one quarter turn
with my eyes closed, then opened them.  I did this in each of four
directions, coming back to the notch just in time to see the first rays of
the rising sun.  Something in my told me that I must turn half way around
and go in the opposite direction, away from the rising sun.  I turned and
started out.  All day I walked, selecting small berries and digging roots
from certain plants that Grandmother had told me would be the first day's
food.  It would strengthen me.  That night I curled up in a hollow log,
pulled some dry leaves over me, and fell into a deep sleep.  I dreamed, but
forgot what I dreamed when I awoke.  I went on but now chose different
berries and roots that were mostly tasteless or bitter.  One even made my
tongue tingle and go slightly numb.  That night I had to relieve myself
often but remembered to drink all the water I wanted.  I found a large bush
under a large tree to sleep under and spent a restless night.

 The next day I drank only water, sparingly.  I had crossed three mountains
and was crossing a wide valley, being careful to stay away from white men's
farms and buildings.  I considered them different than myself, even though
I might be half white.  I slipped easily along their wooded fence lines,
across some open fields, and into the woods on the far side of the valley.
That day I saw more wild animals and birds than I had ever seen -- fox and
deer; wild turkey, eagles and hawks; rabbits and squirrels too numerous to
count, then a badger, a raccoon, and an owl, just before dark.  I stopped
half way up the mountain to find a place to sleep, but it did not seem the
right place, so I kept on.  It got darker and darker until the moon rose.
It was half full and the sky was clear, with no wind, so I kept climbing.
It must have been about midnight when I got to the top of the mountain.  I
could see a valley in front of me and a valley behind me, with smaller
hills to the right and left.  The moon was directly overhead and bright
enough to see the trees and bushes below me but only rocks around me.  This
felt right.  I began searching for a hole or a cave and finally found a
small cave behind a large rock, with a bush hiding its entrance almost
completely.  I would have missed it if I had not smelled an old animal
smell behind the bush.  I crept in, all senses at the highest level.  Was
the animal still in here?  Was it a mother bear with cubs?  That would be
worst, and might end my Spirit Quest right now.  No, the smell was not
fresh and rank, but old and almost mellow.  I crept in further and found a
dry dirt floor.  I curled up and went to sleep.

The next morning I woke dizzy, pale and sweating.  Was I sick?  No.  I
recalled Grandmother had told me the results of my purging would lead to
this.  I lay back and went to sleep.  Wild dreams flashed through my mind
all that day as I dozed, woke, took a sip of water and fell asleep again.
In some dreams I was running after a great beast with long hair and tusks
as it walked faster than I could run.  In other dreams I was in a big,
smoky cave watching some men draw hunting scenes on the walls.  In still
others I was wrapped in two or three animal skins which still had the fur
on them but could not stay warm as we trudged through snow, a long line of
skinny people behind me.  Some dreams were of holding a warm, wonderful
body close as we slept in spoon position.  All dreams appeared clearly then
collapsed, leaving only a faint trace behind my eyes.  Finally it was
morning again.

I crawled to the cave entrance, remembering that Grandfather said my totem
animal would appear, with something to revive me.  It was a clear morning,
just after dawn but before sunrise.  The world was still as it seemed to
wait for my totem with me.  No wind, no clouds, no movement.  I looked all
around the horizon, wondering if I might be one to whom no Spirit appears.
Then I began searching the sky and THERE!  There coming in from the valley
I had crossed was a hawk of some kind, coming this way.  Coming closer,
coming straight for me!  Now I could see that it was an osprey or fish
hawk, carrying a struggling fish in its claws.  Closer, closer -- now he
LET THE FISH FALL -- directly TO me!  I pounced on it and before I knew it,
I drew my knife and killed the big brown trout.  Then I bowed my head and
thanked the Great Spirit for my totem, the Fish Hawk, and for my breakfast.
I cut strips of meat from each side of the great fish's backbone and chewed
all the juice out of them before swallowing.  SO good!  Restoring moisture
to my mouth and filling my belly with some good food!  I cut off all the
meat that I could, then took the remains outside, put them on a flat rock,
and went back into the cave mouth.  My Fish Hawk stooped down, picked it up
and flew off -- maybe to its nest where the chicks would eat the soft belly
and guts.

I looked around for ten minutes but could see nothing else I was to learn
here, so gathered my bow and two arrows, tucked my knife in my belt and
left to go back home.  All that morning I looked for my totem tree or bush,
an indication of my future job with the tribe or in life, my direction and
type of sky.  Then I realized clear morning sky was my sky and my direction
was toward the rising sun.  Just before noon I stopped to eat some of the
last of the Spring blackberries.  Big bushes with a lot of thorns, but
ripe, juicy blackberries.  As I came around one especially large bush, I
almost bumped into a large brown bear coming around the other way!  We both
stood up straight in surprise, but he recovered first and roared, then
dropped down to charge.  That's all I needed to run!  I bounded over the
next bushes, up a faint game trail and down the other side, but still he
came on.  I leaped a broad creek while he splashed through, not slowing
down at all.  I was starting to pant, feeling a pain in my chest, when I
saw an oak tree with a branch I could reach if I jumped off the mound near
it.  I gave one last lunge, leapt off the mound and caught the branch with
both hands.  I swung out then back, just as the bear came up.  He batted at
me with one clawed paw but I knew it was coming and had pulled my chest
over the branch.  Not completely away from him, though, as he was able to
scrape down the calf of my left leg before I got all the way onto the
branch, then balanced my way over to the trunk and climbed up three more
levels in the tree.

"Oh, Great Spirit, please make this bear forget he once climbed trees when
he was a cub!" I prayed silently.

My calf was really smarting and bleeding pretty freely, so I took off my
breech clout and head thong.  I wrapped the breech clout around my calf
then tied it tightly with the thong.  Not so tight it would cut off the
circulation, just slow the bleeding.

{SO -- here I am.  Is this part of my Vision Quest?  What part?  I know my
totem animal -- the bear didn't give me the berries.  Quite the opposite,
so Fish Hawk is my totem.  Blackberries are my totem plant, maybe, and
trout my totem fish?  But the bear -- hmm.  He didn't run, I did, but he
chased me.  So, will that make me "Running Bear" or "Runs from Bear?"
Grandfather will know.  All I have to do is get down and get home so he can
tell me.  Why is the bear still there?  Something else for me to learn?}

"Go away, Brother Bear.  I did not try to steal your berries.  I will leave
all berries on this mountain for you!  Go back to get more and share them
with your mate or your cubs."

No good, he's not going away.  Hmm, when I took off my breech clout I stuck
my small knife in the tree -- NO, it's much to small to fight a bear!
Wait, I still have my bow across my back, with two arrows lashed to it.  I
know I couldn't do much damage to him -- probably only arouse him to attack
-- so no shooting at him.  I wonder if I could shoot something to "give"
him for lunch so he'd let me go -- or forget about me while he ate.  I look
and finally see a large rabbit about fifty feet away upwind.  He doesn't
smell me or the bear.  He's just grazing on that patch of grass or clover.
Hmm, maybe, if I'm balanced in the crotch of the tree -- Now, take off the
bow slowly, untie one of the arrows, ease it onto the bowstring and pull
back slowly.. slowly -- now take aim, allowing for the breeze and the
drop..... and -- TWANG!  Wait -- THUNK!  GOT HIM!  He gives that dying
rabbit squeal, the only verbal sound a rabbit makes, and THAT gets the
bear's attention!

He swings his great head around until he locates the sound source, then
goes lumbering off uphill, closer and closer, though he probably doesn't
know it.  Sound location works -- and THERE!  He sees the rabbit pinned to
the ground by my arrow, bats the "twig" out of the way and drops onto his
lunch.  CRUNCH! and no more rabbit squeals.  Quickly but quietly I slid
down the opposite side of the tree from the bear, crept along silently
until I had some of the berry bushes between us, looked to make sure no
other bears were dining there, then took off.  I couldn't run as fast due
to the torn calf, but I made pretty good time!  I splashed across the small
river where my breakfast probably came from, grunted out another thanks,
and staggered up the far bank.  I collapsed under a willow whose branches
shielded me from sight.  Aha!  This might be my totem tree.  I was able to
ease back down into the water, still covered by the willow branches, to
wash my wound, take a drink, and then wash off the dirt, sweat, and tree
bark.  The berry juice did not wash off.  Getting cold, I eased back up
into the middle of the willow until I was sure the bear was not following,
then took off for home.  I knew I could not make it all in one leg --
That's when I realized what's meant by "one leg of the journey."  My one
leg was not helping at all, just dragging along behind.  I had to find some
poultice weed and a place to rest. There was a small stream entering the
river, so I followed it and just before twilight found some poultice weed.
I stripped off as many leaves as I could, thought of chewing them into a
mash, but realized I had never seen Grandmother chew it.  It might be
poisonous.  So I found a flat rock beside the creek and a round rock, so I
had a kind of metate to mash the leaves.  I rolled the round stone back and
forth over the leaves until they were all soft and juicy, then took my
breech clout off the wound and packed the poultice weed into the wound.  I
rebound the leather around my calf, tied it back on with my head thong, and
made more poultice.  I replaced the first poultice with the last batch I'd
made then put the remaining three batches in the outer fold of my leg wrap.
It might dry out a little, but I could always add water before using it.

I slept under a farmer's haystack, all nice and warm even if prickly, then
came on home the next day.  I was NEVER so happy to see a place as when I
came over the last rise to see Grandfather's cabin.  Smoke was coming out
of the chimney and as I came into the clearing, he came out of the door.
The worried look on his face vanished, replaced with the only broad smile I
ever saw on his face.  He hurried to me and quickly looked me over to make
sure I was not seriously in trouble.

"O-si-yo, a-gi-du-da," I greeted him.

His grin became a smile as he said, "Welcome back, Grandson.  Did you have
a good Spirit Quest?"

"Yes, I did, but I need you to explain parts of it."

"That I shall be happy to do -- after you wash here so I can check your
leg.  Your Grandmother has a warrior's meal waiting for you."

Surprised, I asked "Why did she make that, and not a farmer's meal or a
gatherer's meal?"

"My totem bird, the Red-tailed Hawk saw you kill one animal to lure away
the one that wanted to eat you!  A true hunter's way!  My totem also showed
me your tribal name, "Running Bare."

"Running Bear, not Running from Bear?" I asked.

"Not that kind.  Not A bear, just ALL bare," he chuckled in his dry humor
way.

"Oh, Running BARE!  But isn't that a name without honor?" I asked.

"Not at all.  You ran when to stand and fight would have been foolish and
fatal.  Then you ran again to escape the bear so you could return home.
Some running is very good, whether with clothes or bare."

By then he had taken off his outer layer of his breech clout to tie around
the last of the poultice weed compress, rinsed my own breech clout, and
handed it to me to put on.  I did, and was no longer bare.  We went into
the cabin where Grandmother had made a stew out of possum, squirrel, and
one piece of dried bear meat they had saved for a special occasion.  It was
a feast I shall never forget!

And now you know what my Spirit Quest was like.  Every one is different,
but Grandfather was proud, as was Grandmother.  Soon after that I went back
to the cabin where Cain was waiting.  He was in another of his rages, but
for some reason he did not strike me.  I guess he saw that I had come back
as a man, not still as a boy.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

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