Harsh Medicine

They were coming! Although they wore thick moccasins and were treading along the riverbank as softly as deer, Makawee heard the rhythm of their steps.

She was hidden beneath a bearskin blanket in the bottom of the birchbark canoe belonging to the Brothers. She drew in her legs more tightly and rolled into the tiniest ball she could make.

They must not find me here, she thought. I must go with them on this journey.

Closer, closer they came. She heard no words exchanged. She knew no words were needed. There was complete understanding between those two — Parahunt, the eldest, and his younger brother Otaktay.

She heard the sound of the last-minute supplies being laid beside her canoe—the bow and arrows and spear, she guessed. The Brothers would keep those in easy reach.

She felt her hiding place begin to slide forward, scratching on the gravel beneath her ear as the canoe was pushed into the river. She held her breath. The boat tilted and lowered as Parahunt took his usual place in front. Then came another swaying motion. That would be Otaktay seating himself at the rear, closest to her hiding place.

Now breaking his morning silence, the strong voice of Parahunt rang out. It was the prayer to god he always spoke with the first stroke of his paddle, as he lifted his face toward the sun.

"Thank-you, creator god," he chanted, "for the gift of Tree for this canoe, that we may ride upon the gift of your Great River."

The Brothers paddled in rhythm. The lap-lapping of water against the canoe was like a happy song to Makawee's ears. The water's delicious coolness pressed in through the birchbark. Joy rose in Makawee like a happy bubble that almost escaped in a giggle, but she tightened her lips. her plan was working! She was going with them!

But where"

Makawee did not know.

She knew it was not to join the other warriors on a hunt for the mighty bison. This was not the season. Besides, brave as she was, Makawee wasn't yet sure she wanted to embark on such a journey.

In the 11 summers of her short life Makawee had heard many stories from her mother, Moema, about Bison hunts. Once an Older brother of hers was caught in the terrible stampede and he never returned home again.

Makawee also knew that Parahunt and Otaktay were not traveling to fight in a tribal war. Battles were much more common, for her Grandfather was the mighty Cherokee chief who called himself Howahkan. He had conquered thirty tribes and now ruled over 80 villages, so his people had known much fighting. But for many moons there had been no war dances in her village. Nor had she seen any war paint as the Brothers prepared for this journey.

It was clear that only Parahunt and Otaktay had been chosen for the trip. From a distance she had watched them in secret counsel with her Grandfather. Their faces had been serious, their voices only whispers. She had watched them, too, as the tipped a spear with the shining metal that was bought at a great price from a strange trader far to the north.

What could all this mean"

"Grandfather, may I go with the Brothers?" she had asked.

Howahkan had raised his eyebrows and shaken his head in a firm No. There was not even a word of explanation. This had only increased her desire not to be left behind.

Soon the gentle motion of the canoe made her drowsy. Under the heavy bearskin, she felt as snug as a little squirrel nesting in a hollow tree. She slept. She dreamed of the Great River's beauty as she guided her canoe upon it. She rode through the shadowy green forest until she reached the great plains of Dakota. There was a great Bison there to meet her and talk with her. Surely he would be friendly. Surely he would not trample over her.

Suddenly everything was shaking. She heard a crunching and banging beside her head. With a frightened shriek she sat up and threw aside the bearskin blanket. Water splashed in her face. The world was white and wet and swirling.

The birchbark had just beaten its way through a stretch of rocky rapids. In an instant she feared nothing from the river, but plenty from the Brothers. The canoe slipped quickly into calmer water, but a storm as building on the faces of Parahunt and Otaktay. They pulled in their paddles to drift in the slower current as the scowled at the stowaway.

"Makawee!" Otaktay shouted. He grabbed her ear and pulled until she cried. "You little trickster! You're as quick and sneaky and full of mischief as the little creatures your sister has that follow her. I think I'll go home and kill them for giving you their spirit!" He yanked her ear even harder.

"No!" she screamed, thinking more of her sisters treasured pets than of her pain.

"Stop it!" Parahunt commanded. Otaktay loosened his grip. But the fire of controlled anger she saw in Parahunt's eyes was even worse than Otaktay's torment.

"You know your Grandfather told you not to come with us." Parahunt spat the words at Makawee. With a jerk of his arm, he picked up his paddle.

"Yes, but I'm very brave!" she said, though more tears were forming in her eyes.

"I know," he answered.

"You're not going to war," Makawee stated. "I could see that."

"No," he acknowledged.

"And it isn't the season for hunting Bison."

"No."

"Are you going to spy on our enemies?"

"No."

"Then why can't I come?" she pleaded. She held up her little basket-purse filled with popcorn and dried berries. "Look! I've brought my own food. I won't be a burden!"

Parahunt's mouth nearly curled into a smile, but she could see he was determined to be stern. "Food is not the problem, little one," he said simply. "we go on a journey which is man's work, not child's play. It's a journey you cannot understand."

"We can put her out right here," Otaktay suggested. His tone was cruel.

Parahunt thought for a moment. "No, it's too far for her to walk alone in this time of mystery." Without saying more, he swung around the canoe, and began the strain of paddling upriver. They were going back to their village.

As she watched the strong arms of the Brothers fighting the current, Makawee sniffled with disappointment. It isn't fair, she thought. Why couldn't she be a part of this journey"

The clear river rushed under the birchbark as she and the Brothers continued homeward. Makawee saw the sun's warming rays reaching all the way down to a school of trout. The forest on both sides was bursting with life. Beaver and mink were undisturbed by the canoe gliding silently by. She saw redheaded ducks and blue herons, and heard geese honking overheard on their way north. In her peaceful delight she almost forgot she was going home, back to her girl-child chores, and back to her Grandfather.

Grandfather will understand why I hid in the canoe, she told herself, grateful that she had at least come this far on the forbidden journey. Her Grandfather was very wise, for he had already lived nearly seventy summers. Yes, he would understand.

Or would he? She began to worry.

Too soon, a familiar sound announced their nearness to home. It was a waterfall in a stream that joined the river just above their village. As they rounded a bend in the river, she could see the tall log fence Howahkan had built around the fifty Teepee's of her village. The sight gave her a strange dread, a feeling it had never given her before. Dogs on the shore barked an alert.

Then she saw them. Howahkan already stood outside the log wall, and beside him was the Quiyow, the tribe's Spirit Man. The Quiyow's face was painted black and he wore a cloak of weasel pelts and snakeskins. Something important was happening, or he would not have been there. He lived apart from the village, and Makawee had not seen him since the last ceremony of the Dark Worship. A knot of fear formed in her stomach. It always did whenever she saw him, though he had never spoken a word to her.

Besides these two, no one else was outside the wall.

The brothers beached the canoe. As they helped her out, she felt her knees trembling. Slowly she walked towards her Grandfather, staring at the ground. Her shoulders slumped.

"Granddaughter, look at me," her Grandfather commended, when she stopped in front of him. His voice was like a cougar's growl.

She obeyed. She saw him towering above her. Fear and respect for Howahkan the mighty chief came flooding into her heart.

He spoke slowly. "Your mother called you Joehlle. I am he who named you Makawee, for you have always been a caretaker of your sister, Ahinawake."

Makawee nodded only slightly, without smiling. There was no favor in her Grandfather's eyes today. His voice was empty of all kindness.

"I have loved you for your beauty," he continued. "I have loved your for your courage and your spirit in your mother's absence. But your spirit must never again cross mine."

She swallowed, and quietly began to speak. "But, Grandfather-"

Quiet!" he commanded. "I have forty-seven children. Not one of all the others would dare do what you have done today!"

She felt a tightness rise in her like a fist from her stomach to her throat, choking her. She turned away from her Grandfather'sterrible gaze. The Quiyow's glare looked even more frightening. She lowered her head again. She saw the moccasined feet of the Brothers, who stood silently on either side of her.

"You must remember who you are," her Grandfather said. "You are Makawee. One day you'll be a Spirit Woman, like your mother was, and will rule over your own village. But today you've acted foolishly. You have worried and frightened your grandmother, Leotie, for she guessed at once what you had done and where you had gone."

"It has been decided that you will be given no food until the Brothers return from their journey," Howahkan announced. "You will do only the tasts of the very youngest girl-children, for you have acted like a small child."

In her cheeks, Makawee felt the burning of shame.

"This, too, will be your punishment," her Grandfather continued. She looked up. "No one may speak to you," he said, "and you may speak to no one — not even your sister — until the Brothers return."

Her mind was spinning with remorse and bewilderment. She saw Howahkan give a quick nod to Parahunt and Otaktay. They hurried from her side. behind her, for the second time this morning, she heard but did not see the launching of their canoe in the river.

Howahkan and the Spirit Man turned angrily and stalked back inside the wall to the village, leaving her alone.

Makawee began running. She ran past the wall and into the woods, then out on a grassy knoll overlooking the waterfall. This was her special place to think and be alone. She managed to get this far before falling to the ground and bursting into sobs.

Never before had she known such anger from her Grandfather. This was harsh medicine — bitter, bitter medicine.