Andre Martin - Yotkhee

The old man let out a heavy sigh and looked down at the fire.

«But why have the spirits chosen that particular land to take us to?» the boy asked.

«There is a beautiful lake there. It is the favorite lake of the Great Num. He keeps that land with special care. He will help our good people to survive the Great Trouble. The lake gives birth to many rivers, and its islands are the Great Num’s heart and eyes. The lake is shaped just like the body of our Great Creator. That’s how you will know you have come to the right place and can finally settle down and live a long and happy life.»

The old man paused again and turned to look at the fire.

«O Wise Healer, why do you keep saying «you’ and not «we’? Are you not coming with us?»

«I am too old to live in that land, and our spirits are waiting for me. After I teach you everything I know and see you off on your journey, I will go up to the top of our beloved mountain and fly away to the world of our ancestors.»

Yotkhee must have been smart enough to see how silly it would be to argue with the wise old man and to try to talk him out of the decision he had made.

«We will miss you, O Good Teacher,» he said quietly, looking down on the ground.

«We have had a grand life together! And who knows what good works await us in the future,» said the shaman with a serene smile. «And now, Son, go grab a jug from my tent and run up to top of our sacred hill, where the blue stream comes out of the ground. Fill the jug with fresh, cool, living water and bring it back here.»

Without asking any more questions, the boy quickly jumped up, got the jug, and raced up the hill. As he ran, marvelous birds sang to him from the thick branches, green leaves rustled in cheerful greeting, and the sun’s rays pierced the dense foliage, sparkling merrily on small stones and lighting up the boy’s path as if showing him the way.

The stream with clear blue water was singing a happy song, winding its way around big and small stones and massive tree roots. Yotkhee carefully filled the jug and sprinted back. The old shaman was still at his fire, patiently waiting for his return.

«Thank you,» he said, taking the jug with both hands. «And now I am going to speak sacred words over the water, and all my knowledge will pass into it.»

The wise teacher closed his eyes and, holding the jug right before his face, started whispering something over the living water. It didn’t take long. He then handed the jug over to the boy and said:

«Now drink this water. But first close your eyes and, as you drink, think only of the most beautiful things you have seen here in our land. Think only of what is good and true.»

The jug was only a little bigger than the mug the boy’s father used each morning to have his first hot, fragrant, and refreshing drink of the day, and the boy downed it in one gulp.

«Don’t open your eyes!» the old man said urgently. «Sit still for a bit.»

The boy’s imagination came alive with pictures, one after another, swiftly rushing before his mind’s eye, faster and faster, until he couldn’t even discern what they were. After a while they slowed down and finally stopped. Yotkhee saw a lake, the very lake the shaman had told him about. Then, suddenly, he heard a deep low voice from somewhere within himself. The voice said:

«When you bring the people to my lake, you must put shrines on the islands so that I could speak to you through them.»

«It was the Great Num speaking to you,» said the old shaman and smiled.

The boy opened his eyes and looked at him.

«See, our gods have accepted you. Our good spirits will help you on your difficult journey. You must bring our people to their new land.»

«I will,» said his young apprentice with confidence. He raised his eyes and looked up to the vast blue sky and beyond, to the great unknown that was waiting for them all. When he turned his gaze back to his teacher, he looked grave and thoughtful.

«Tell me something, O Wise Teacher,» said Yotkhee to the shaman. «Why did you ask me to drink the water?»

«Water holds the whole of history, my son,» replied the shaman. «And not just of our people.»

«The whole history? All of it?» the boy’s eyes opened wide in astonishment.

«Yes, all of it,» nodded the old man. «And the purer the water, the better it can pour its secret treasures into your memory. Water can heal. Water can also kill. Some water is living water. You had some of it from my jug. There is also water that is dead water. This is the water you kill when you heat it up over your morning fires and then drink hot from your mugs. But dead water can also heal.»

«How?» asked his young student with interest.

«It can wash the body to make it clean. It can clean the wounds to make them heal faster. On your way to the Land of the Dead you will meet a good people who have built special houses for this purpose. Once in every seven suns and seven moons they go in there to wash their bodies, first with dead and then with living water. It makes the body strong, so that no sickness can come into it.»

Yotkhee was silent, trying to understand. Then, from somewhere inside his shirt, the wise healer took out a small reed pipe. He balanced it on his palm for a bit, as if trying to decide something, and then held it out to the boy.

«Here, take this. When the going gets tough, take it out and play. The good spirits will hear the music and come to you with wise counsel. Just close your eyes and listen, listen carefully to the voice inside.»

«Thank you, O Good Teacher,» said the boy. He took the pipe and examined it with great attention.

«Well, tomorrow we’ll have to start getting ready,» said the old shaman and added: «We need to tell everyone to get ready and prepare well for the long journey. The Spirit of Light has already touched the tops of our trees.»

Soon Yotkhee, holding the shaman’s reed pipe close to his chest, was skipping down the path that led between the hills to the river which was close where his family lived. He loved the river. It was quiet and peaceful, and he could simply sit on the bank and think.

So many thoughts were now swarming in his head! It was heartbreaking to know that he would have to say goodbye to the place where he’d grown up. And how could he possibly imagine that soon all this beauty would disappear under the great waters? And all his ancestors will remain here too!

As he was nearing the tepees, Yotkhee saw Edeine who had just come out of her tent. She had brought out a tiny puppy which was now yawning and stretching, basking in the warm morning sun. Edeine and Yotkhee had been neighbors and good friends all their lives.

«Here, Edeine, come with me!» said Yotkhee, running up to her and trying to keep his voice low. «Come quick!»

«Where to?» she asked, surprised.

But the boy had already grabbed her hand and started pulling her behind him. She barely had time to catch up with her puppy and was now holding it tight, running after her friend. The children sped down forest paths and then up a familiar low hill until they found themselves near a fallen tree.

«Now sit down and listen!» cried Yotkhee excitedly.

Edeine put the puppy in her lap and stared at her friend in mild bewilderment.

Yotkhee put the reed pipe to his lips and started playing a soft tune. As soon as the music began, a doe with her fawn came out from behind the thick bushes on the opposite bank and stopped at the water, lifting its left front leg slightly and perking up its ears to listen to the song. Several noble-looking swans delicately glided onto the clear blue water, gently spreading their large wings.