Michael Blake - The Holy Road

Determined to observe the decorum that befitted his age and place, Ten Bears let Kicking Bird place the white man's invention on his face, thinking he would make a polite comment or two if he saw interesting colors or odd patterns. He did not expect to see a teenager on a horse at the far end of the village and was astounded to find that he recognized the young man.

"How did Sun Boy get in here?" he exclaimed.

"Look to the right," Kicking Bird suggested.

"It's Otter Belt. He's leading some horses."

"Look left."

"Bird Woman shaking out a robe. ."

Ten Bears pulled the glasses off his face and looked dorm at them with a mixture of respect and awe.

"This is a good trick. . but how do they get people inside these discs? And how do they know what the people I see look like?” "You don't understand, Grandfather. .”

“No."

"Put them on."

Ten Bears did as his friend asked.

"Everything you see is here in camp. Sun Boy was riding his horse just now. Otter Belt was bringing in his animals. Bird Woman was shaking out a robe. Looking through the discs makes your eyes new.” Ten Bears fixed the glasses over his nose and ears, this time without help, and commenced searching out a succession of objects both living and inert. AII the while he kept his fingers on the frames, tilting the glasses up to check the indistinct images in his eyes against the ones he was seeing through the little discs of glass.

A profound calm settled over Ten Bears as he moved his gray head from one place to another. He stopped tilting the glasses and for a long time stared through his new eyes exclusively. At last he turned to Kicking Bird. The spectacles hung on his face as if they had been there for years.

"You are right. . my eyes are new. I'm going to keep this thing.” "Good, Grandfather."

The old man resumed his gazing. Looking over the village so keenly seemed to take the stoop out of him. The addition of the grasses had made him appear straighter and stronger. So intent was he on looking that when he spoke again it sounded like he was talking to himself.

"We must council on all you have told me.”

"Yes, Grandfather."

"We must talk tonight."

Smiles A Lot would have spent much more time in his lodge had it not been for the demands of others. Almost as soon as he got home, men started coming by to smoke or invite him out, and after a full day and night of constant interruption, he and Hunting For Something decided to leave Rabbit with one of his uncles, strike the lodge, and move a distance from camp, where they would be left alone.

They had returned at twilight on the day Ten Bears received the miracle of new sight and had just started to unpack when they heard the crier announce an important council that night.

Not long after they had started a fire the voice of Wind In His Hair sounded outside the door and Smiles A Lot was stunned to see him come inside. The great warrior walked to within a pace or two of the boy.

"Sit among the Hard Shields tonight," Wind In His Hair said. "The bravest should always sit together."

Smiles A Lot was too shocked to respond.

Wind In His Hair smiled thinly, reached out, and gave Smiles A Lot's shoulder a few light taps.

"Someone will come by and bring you."

Then he turned and, a moment later, ducked out the lodge flap.

Smiles A Lot and Hunting For Something had known Wind In His Hair all their lives. They saw him almost every day he was in camp. The history of his life was well known to them and yet they stood mutely, as if they had been poleaxed and would at any second crumble, senseless, to the floor.

As usual, it was Hunting For Something who found her tongue first.

"Sitting with the Hard Shields. ." she said, turning her face to his. "What does it mean?"

"I don't know."

"Does Wind In His Hair want you for the Hard Shields?”

"Maybe."

"He wants you to sit with them."

"Yes," he answered. "Anyway, I have to make ready.”

"I'll help you," she said excitedly and skipped across the floor for the occasional bag that held Smiles A Lot's things. "What is this council about? "

"Kicking Bird is going to make some talk," he answered, settling himself in front of the fire.

As she brushed his hair and oiled it, and found the new moccasins she had just finished for him, she questioned him, but Smiles A Lot, who was usually happy to converse, answered in one-word replies. It was evident that some problem was occupying his thoughts.

"Do I look good?" he asked after he was standing again.

"You look like a warrior."

Somehow Smiles A Lot was not pleased. With a wince he cast his eyes down and thought a moment more before gazing unhappily into her face.

"I have nothing for my scalplock."

Hunting For Something was more concerned with his sadness than she was with his scalplock. She wanted to pull him close but did not.

Smiles A Lot began to pace.

"That white man I killed. . I should have taken his rings. I think he had some."

"A white man's ring," she muttered critically. "Why would you want something so awful in your hair when you have that black racer standing outside?"

"I can't put a horse in my scalplock," Smiles A Lot laughed.

"A piece of him," she countered. "A piece of him."

Smiles A Lot cut a hank of hair from the black racer's tail, and when Hunting For Something was done braiding it into his scalplock, the horsehair flowed along one temple, over his shoulder, spread down his back, and spilled over his buttocks like a living talisman. As he walked back and forth, in the way a haberdasher's client might take a few steps to check the fit of a new suit, the voice of Shaking Hand called from outside.

Hunting For Something moved with him as he started for the lodge flap.

"You can speak if you want," she reminded him.

"Why should I speak?"

"People want you to."

Smiles A Lot couldn't fully grasp that he had become a man of distinction. Everything had happened so quickly. He stared at her vacantly, but Hunting For Something only smiled.

"I won't go to sleep," she said matter-of-factly, and he stepped outside, the long swath of black horsehair moving behind him.

Ten Bears' tent was already packed with warriors when he came inside. Smiles A Lot still felt he was dreaming as a place, only a few men removed from Wind In His Hair's side, was made for him among the Hard Shields.

He had never sat in the front rank of a council, and as he let his arms relax on crossed legs, a flash of clarity lit inside him. Taking in the scene around him, Smiles A Lot realized suddenly that he knew what was about to happen.

Though the council had not started, the lodge was abnormally quiet. Flanked on either side by Kicking Bird and Wind In His Hair, the figure of Ten Bears provided a clear line of demarcation. The lodge was physically split by the followers of each warrior, yet each of them shared a uniformly apprehensive look on his face. There were always disagreements in council, and at times heated words were exchanged, but Smiles A Lot understood, even before anyone had spoken, that the division that would rend this council was something completely unprecedented.

Extraordinary as the tension was, it was surmounted in spectacular style by the appearance of Ten Bears. Every man made some whispered comment about the bizarre apparatus on his face, and the fact that it was a thing from the white world passed from warrior to warrior until it was known to all.

Smiles A Lot's eyes fell toward his lap, then onto his hands, fingers, and wrists. He noticed the elegant curve of his fingers for the first time, and the supple, miraculous movement of his wrist. A prominent artery ran over his thumb, and where it stood at its highest he could see the steady pulse of his blood.