Grey Buck – The Destiny of a Yaqui Chief By: Charles Roman
(C) 2011 Charles Roman ISBN9781456591625 Book Cover by Barbara Roman
To my mother, Frances Aguirre Roman Jimenez, a Yaqui Princess!
A grateful thank you to my loving and forbearing wife Barbara for all her help in bringing this story to print!
Message from the Author: This short story is meant solely for pure entertainment. There will, no doubt, be critics who will perfectionisticly disagree with some form of the story. And yet, there may be those who may catch one of my many mistakes, being a self-published author. I however, welcome any feedback you have. Please email me at CRoman_57@hotmail.com with your comments. Thank you!
INTRODUCTION It was at Santa Ana College in California, while taking a class in the American Western Frontier, that I learned the startling statistic that the American Cowboyâ€&#x;s actual history only lasted 30 years. Yes, thirty years! Alas, he was displaced by the railroad. It was quicker to load horses and cattle onto rail cars than it was for cowboys to herd them through the Wild West. It is also amazing, however, to think of how Hollywood continues to keep this bit of history alive by drumming up stories to feed our starving, adventurous imaginations; of how the exciting world of this fascinating figure may have been as he sat around a camp fire chewing on beef jerky while
drinking coffee from a hot steel cup. How we dream to live the life of John Wayne living on our own spread out in the open with miles and miles of virgin land between us and our closest neighbors, building our own home cabin, cutting down our own fire wood, and hunting for our own grub. The story about Grey Buck is really no different. It is much the same as a Hollywood movie. There are many things in the story that are true; such as the Yaqui people leaving Mexico and settling in Arizona. And some of the things mentioned such as doing the Deer Dance are part of the Yaqui culture. But for the most part, they didnâ€&#x;t live in teepees or have a dispute with a California waste company. Even though the Yaqui people are historically a resilient people who withstood oppression by others, they are mostly a free people
who live peaceably among themselves and other nearby tribes. May the Great (Holy) Spirit grant us peace with all men!
Chapter 1 He was born along the Yaqui River on a blistering winter morning. His mother lay resting alongside a fire in a nearby teepee as his father, Great Eagle, wrapped him up in a warm buffalo blanket and carried the newborn infant to the riverâ€&#x;s edge. He had waited for his sonâ€&#x;s arrival a long time and after his birth, Great Eagle had prepared a simple alter of oak branches and twigs. He laid the baby on a woven blanket made of brilliant colors of purple, green and red. Then
he took two small branches and rubbed them together until they got hot and pressed them against dry, green, pine leaves till a fire started. Today was a holy and special day to him. It meant he was to be serious minded and everything he did now had to be done right. As a small flame began to kindle, he put a pot of water on to boil so that he could clean and purify his newborn son. This was a day of dedication, a day to name his son, so he picked him up then went to his knees, closing his eyes, prayed to the Great Spirit in the Sky for a name. He soon was distracted by a soft wind blowing his fire out, so he rose and gathered bigger branches to keep the fire going. He looked down the mountainside to see if any other tribal members were awake but there was no one stirring. His teepee was situated above theirs so that he could have the vantage
point of seeing and watching out for his people. He also chose this site because it was up against a massive rock wall that cut down the wind during the winter months. The only breeze felt was one that came along the river. But the rock mountain being on one side of the river and huge sequoias on the other, protected his teepee from heavy winds and kept it secluded. Great Eagle was a towering figure at seven feet. His skin was smooth and soft as adobe and yet he had the athleticism of a tiger. He was gifted with an appearance that was noticed and respected by anyone who saw him and he had the physique of a true warrior. He was like his father Wise Owl in many respects who was the chief among our Yaqui people, for we settled in Arizona long ago to escape slavery from the Mexican government. The Yaqui are a
surviving people as Chief Wise Owl was a surviving leader. When his father, Wise Owl, had vanished, the tribal leaders quickly and unanimously elected Great Eagle to be their Chief. It was an election without contest since many of the tribal members had looked up to Great Eagle when he came of age and many of the elders had said for some time that it was his destiny. Knowing that everything had a reason and purpose, Great Eagle sat at the riverâ€&#x;s edge quietly praying and waiting for the pot of water to boil. Slowly he noticed a layer of fog beginning to glide along the river. His attention had been distracted too many times and he began to get angry at himself for his lack of devotion, so this time he swore he would keep his eyes shut and concentrate on his prayers. As he did so, he heard a sound as if it came out of the nearby
forest. He refused to open his eyes, not wanting to have his sacrifice be rejected by the Great Spirit in the Sky, so he started to chant and sing praises to his God and exercise discipline. He felt the mist of fog around him now so he wrapped the baby so that he wouldnâ€&#x;t get cold or wet and kept him close to him so that he could give him body warmth. Yet Great Eagle sensed as if he was being watched or as if someone was nearby. Suddenly he opened his eyes and standing before him was a magnificent and grandiose buck. The creature was awesomely built with a majestic set of antlers. His eyes were wild with terror and he stood nose to nose with Great Eagle. The buck breathed on him a blast of breath, and then made a loud call like the sound of a trumpet. Great Eagle kept his eyes tightly closed and was shaking on his knees in horror of the dreadful beast. He opened his eyes
again and noticed the buck was still standing there. Then one of its antlers grazed the right cheek of Great Eagle and he started to bleed slightly. Not knowing what to do, he closed his eyes waiting to see what the buck would do next, but when he opened his eyes again, the great creature was nowhere in sight. Great Eagle saw that the water had started to boil, so he took a cloth and dipped it into the water and began cleaning his son. Cautiously he looked around again but did not see the buck anywhere. During all this time the child had remained quiet, proving in his mind that he had received an answer to his prayers. As he dried his son, he noticed a speck of blood coming from his sonâ€&#x;s hand. He remembered the blood that was dripping slightly from his cheek and he mixed it with the boyâ€&#x;s blood.
“This day I make a covenant with you my son.” He said to himself. “Today I call you Grey Buck after the visitation of our friend from the forest.” The proud father kissed his son and lifted him to the sky. The baby soon began to cry. “Ok my son. You‟ve had an adventurous beginning,” his father joked. “It is time for you to get some sleep. We need to make one visit before you rest.” And so Grey Buck was born, the very image of his warrior father and after the tradition of our native Yaqui people.
Chapter 2 I was speaking to my love Soft Dove when I heard him running towards our teepee. I knew what had happened and I knew he would come. “White Cloud! White Cloud!� He yelled excitedly. I opened the entrance to our teepee and motioned for him to come in for the cold chill of the morning was starting to hurt my eyes.
Soft Dove got up from the fire and took the child from Great Eagle and softly bounced the boy in her arms. “He looks exactly like his father,” she said. “It looks like we have another Chief on our hands.” “Yes,” I replied, “Looks like we are going to have to sacrifice him.” Great Eagle looked at me in horror. “What?” He asked me. “Yes,” I said. “We have too many chiefs and not enough Indians!” Both Soft Dove and I broke out laughing as we tried to break the tension Great Eagle was feeling. Little did Great Eagle know that Soft Dove and I were holding in our bosoms the reality of what happened to his father and mother, Wise Owl and Light Feather. We cried for days but didn‟t tell any other tribal members because Wise Owl made me swear that if anything happened to
him, we were to take care of his son, which I would have done anyway since Wise Owl was my brother. When my brother and Light Feather had vanished, it was as if they had never been born, as if they never existed. Wise Owl was a wise leader and although we lived on rich soil next to the Yaqui River, our territory extended out towards the Arizona Forest and westward towards a wasteland that bordered the California State line. Even though we never had problems with the white man, still Wise Owl set sentries to watch our borders because he still didnâ€&#x;t trust them. One day an American company from California sent a truck of chemical waste onto our land and dumped their entire truckload. The sentries were so use to not having seen anyone for years that they were busy hunting, working or farming. Then Johnny Lightfoot saw a
reflection from a truckâ€&#x;s rear view mirror and he came running to see where the light came from. When he saw the truck leaving he tried to run down the hill to catch up to the truck but by then, the truck was gone. All he could see was the name of the company written on the side of the truck. The sentries were sworn to secrecy and were told if they ever saw anything, they were to come to Wise Owl privately. That evening, as we were getting ready for our tribal meeting, we were suddenly told it was canceled. No one knew why. Some had seen the sentries come into camp and wondered why they werenâ€&#x;t at their posts. Soon rumors spread around camp that something was wrong but no one knew what was going on. But I knew because I was there when Johnny Lightfoot told Wise Owl what had happened. He gave Wise Owl the
name of a company called Chemical Waste Management. I had never seen my brother mad with rage before but when he heard the news, he clinched his right fist in show of anger. He looked at me and said to be privately, “I think I better visit this company privately, maybe me and Light Feather in the guise that we are going to a regional tribal meeting. Letâ€&#x;s go see where they have dumped this waste. I want to see this for myself.â€? When we approached the area where the truck came onto our reservation, we saw another truck just leaving the very same area the other one dumped its load. Wise Owl was furious and pulled out a Winchester from out of the side holster of his horse. He pointed it at the tires then thought better and hit one of the taillights.
“That should send them a message.� Wise Owl said.
Chapter 3 There was a great murmur in camp as days passed by without any word of Wise Owl and Light Feather. The last time we saw them, they were leaving our reservation in their Ford Truck. Now the Tribal Leaders started to get nervous. They could not explain to our people what had happened to our beloved leader. My cousin Loco Joe was causing a ruckus by asking everyone if they knew where Wise Owl was but I knew he was probing
in hopes of becoming the next Tribal leader if something happened to my brother. Finally, I called a Tribal Meeting to discuss what action we should take. They advised we call the Regional Lawyer and have him visit this California Company. When the lawyer for Native Americans appeared a week later, he said there was bad blood between Wise Owl and the CEO for Chemical Waste Management. The CEO didn‟t take too kindly to Wise Owl‟s barging into the middle of his Board Meeting, then pointing his finger at him and asking him why he crossed into sacred Native American land and desecrated it with liquid contamination. The CEO said he didn‟t know what he was talking about but said he would investigate whether it was true or not and if it was true, he would have it cleaned up. That was the last of their conversation according to the CEO.
“Could he have been going somewhere else?” asked the Regional Lawyer. “No…no, that‟s the only place he planned on going.” I replied. As the Tribal Council was talking to the Regional Lawyer, a tall young figure walked into the meeting. I was amusing myself because the Regional Lawyer kept staring at him as if he had seen a god or something. He stopped and looked over to me to ask me who this young man was. “This is Great Eagle,” I said. “He is the son of Wise Owl.” Great Eagle squatted down in the circle and passed the peace pipe to Dana Kingsberry. Little Una sneaked into the meeting and ran into Great Eagle‟s arms. She loved him immensely but he told her she needed to wait outside until they were through with business. Little Una was the jewel of the whole tribe. She had
long black hair for a young child of 7 years. She wanted to cry but he made her promise to be a brave girl and he would go see her first thing after the meeting. So the little child nodded her head yes and ran outside. Then he looked over at the Regional Lawyer. “The Anasazi tell me a biker gang owns this Waste Management Company,” said Great Eagle to the Regional Lawyer. “Even my friends from the north, the Navajo tell me they have run into problems with them. They have not cleaned up their waste from our land. I think we need to visit this company and ask about my father and if they say they don‟t know, then bring them to an accounting. We need to ask them why they haven‟t cleaned up our land.” Everyone in the Council agreed until Loco Joe interjected his views. “Maybe we should have a Powwow first,” he said “and ask the
Great Spirit if something has happened to Wise Owl. Perhaps something has happened along their journey. We could end up wasting time going in the wrong direction. They might call us the “Where the heck aw we tribe.” Everyone in the council laughed in agreement. “What do you think young brother?” Loco Joe asked Great Eagle. “This is excellent council,” replied Great Eagle. “This will give me time to gather our red brothers from the other tribes in the area. They may even wish to come with me to visit this California Company. Tonight I will do the dance of the Deer. We will hunt our prey until we find an answer.” I snickered at Loco Joe‟s suggestion but still it gave me time to
think about what to do. Great Eagle had already made up his mind on confronting this company. Because we dismissed the Council near sun down, we decided to have the pow wow the next night. When I returned to my teepee, I told Soft Dove everything that was said in the Council meeting and what was planned for tomorrow. Then I told her I was very worried about what to do and that I wasnâ€&#x;t hungry because the dead heat of summer and the uncertainty of not knowing about my brother Wise Owl had taken my appetite away. So I had some fresh water and lay down to sleep. My dreams were very disturbing. In my dreams I saw a great white owl fly into the clouds. Then the clouds left a whole but reformed slowly. Then the owl did the same thing over and over again. In my dreams I wondered what this meant. After this I was walking
outside in the cool of the air of the Arizona forest when the great owl returned and came out of the sky and landed several feet in front of me. He looked down the path and never looked my way. As I walked towards the great beast, he started to fly ahead several feet again. I began to realize that this was a sign the great bird was leading me somewhere. Soft Dove woke me and said I was perspiring and talking in my sleep. “You have been asleep for a short time,” she said. “I know what you have been dreaming about and I have had the same dream. I have prepared the horses, water and bread for our journey.” “You had the same dream too?” I asked. “Yes,” she replied. “And we better leave while it is the cool of the night. We won‟t last out in the California
desert during the dead heat of the afternoon.�
Chapter 4 Directly above us the moon cast its soft light on the trail leading towards the Arizona forest. As we entered the forest we heard the sound of an owl coming from within its depths. We knew we had no time to waste. Where we were going and why we did not know but we both felt something driving us, urging us. The Jesuit Priests taught us long ago what it says in the good book, “Abel‟s blood cries out from the ground.” We both had a
hunch of foul play in the back of our minds but possibly the vision meant something else. We descended along the path till it lead us to the open expanse of the border. Here we stopped and I “whooed” like an owl two times. Then we heard the sound of a hawk in the distance. We waited then we heard a voice from out of the darkness; “Who is it?” said Johnny Lightfoot. “It‟s me White Cloud and Soft Dove,” I replied. “Uncle I knew you were coming” Johnny replied. Before I could explain to Johnny what had happened he interrupted me. “Did you get a vision about an owl Uncle?” He asked. “Yes” I said. “Then you need to go.” He said. “I had the same dream and you don‟t have time to waste.”
So we continued to descend down towards the border till we came to the valley of the California desert. We were a half hour within the border when we came to a dirt road leading north or south. “What‟s wrong?” Soft Dove asked. “I‟m waiting for our friend,” I said, “the owl.” We waited for a few minutes but there was no site or sound of the owl. We were going to give up but Soft Dove suggested we head out in the direction of the California Waste Company. This was an excellent idea. “I‟m glad to see that after all these years my wisdom is rubbing off on you.” I joked to Soft Dove. “I just hope your Alzheimer‟s doesn‟t rub off on me,” she torted. We laughed and quickly headed south on the dirt road. As we went on our way suddenly we heard the sound of an owl behind us. Soft Dove and I
looked at each other being puzzled as to why the owl was behind us. Knowing time was running out, we turned and headed in the direction of the owl‟s call. Every time we thought we were getting close to the owl, we lost sight of him and then he would hoot ahead of us and we would pick up his trail again. We followed our spirit guide until the dirt road came to an end. It was here that tears began to flow from Soft Dove‟s eyes. “This is Muerte Point,” she said sadly. “No one ever comes here. This area gets hotter than Death Valley and the earth melts into sand because of the fierce anger of the sun.” As she uttered these words, I remembered the story she told me of her younger sister disappearing years ago. Young Doe was only 5 years old when she vanished but they found her remains in this area and Soft Dove mourned for her ever since. Now Soft
Dove took the lead down a side trail as if she were in a trance, her focus on a mound of sand in the distance. No trees or brush could survive the heat in this forsaken and barren land. I could smell the wet sand from the hot water that dropped from the sky. The moon was particularly brighter because of it and when we came to this mound of sand our hearts sank in deep sadness when we saw protruding from it, the rear bumper of my brother‟s Ford truck. My heart told me it was his. I didn‟t have to uncover the sand to know he and Light Feather had met foul play. While I felt grief over my brother‟s end, I was also comforted in knowing that the mystery of his death was now known. I was also very angry at what had happened and knew who was to blame and I swore to myself that I would get vengeance some day. To me it all made sense. The truck was in
the opposite direction of the chemical company and too close to the reservation as if it was an accident. But I knew better. Both Soft Dove and I gathered some sand and tried to cover the truck up as best we could. Why?...we did not know. Even though I had no evidence or proof of who did this cruel thing, my spirit guide was a sign that the Great Spirit was telling me something different. For the sake of the tribe we felt it was wiser not to mention what we had discovered or we could have a war that could wipe out our people. On the other hand, I had to think about what to do about Great Eagle. I knew he was not about to sit still. He was ready to cut someoneâ€&#x;s head off especially if he found out what had happened to his brave father. We held each other and took time to thank the Great Spirit for guiding
and giving us the revelation of what happened to my brother and Light Feather. We didnâ€&#x;t have to say anything to each other about how we needed to head back before we became prisoners of the desert. We mounted our horses and began the assent back home; her grieving over the remembrance of her sister, me grieving over the loss of my brother.
Chapter 5 Although Great Eagle was chiseled in the likeness of his great father Wise Owl, he in no way inherited his patience and wisdom. Wise Owl was a master planner and would study birds, trees or even the wind to see what he could learn. He was learning all the time. When there was a dispute among tribal members, Wise Owl said he would resolve their problem as soon as he planted some seeds in the ground, and after the seeds sprouted
one foot high, he would have an answer. It would be several months later when the seed sprouted and by this time tribal members had learned to solve their differences on their own. This was the wisdom of Wise Owl. He had hoped tribal members would see themselves as one people, helping each other survive, not enemies who fought with each other. Great Eagle, on the other hand, grew impatient as days went by. His warrior blood began to boil everyday when there was silence concerning his father. “Why don‟t you go peacefully with a delegation of different tribal members to this waste management place?” suggested Running Deer, Great Eagles wife, “All of our people see the anger in your spirit and you are as restless as a caged tiger.” Running Deer sat at the other end of their teepee. She had a white shawl
over her long, shiny, black hair and she was wrapped in a purple blanket holding young Grey Buck. Great Eagle said nothing. He took one of his enormous bows made of polished redwood and checked its strength by pulling on the string made from horseâ€&#x;s tail. With his back to Running Deer, he started to look at the different types of arrows he had to check their pointed tips. Great Eagle was too preoccupied with carrying out a plan he had already conceived in his mind than rather listen to his lovely brave wife. One by one he inspected the arrows decorated in different type of Yaqui figures, symbols and colors. As he did so, he put them in a leather quiver carefully laying them in one by one. Along the side of the leather bag were pockets in which Great Eagle put darts of ducktail tips dipped in poison. Great Eagle checked the weight of his warriorâ€&#x;s bag and felt he
could add a club made of shinny silver and a throwing knife made of tough steel. Running Deer was busy tending to Grey Buck to mind what Great Eagle was doing. Finally, she took the child and lay on some blankets with the child next to her. Soon the sun would lay its bright orb under the blanket of the western horizon. A change was in the wind that would affect our culture and our history.
Chapter 6 One by one my people gathered to the open field on the eastern end of our reservation. I had come early because I was the overseer and coordinator of these special events and I wanted to make sure the Great Spirit was pleased with our offerings. To us, presenting ourselves before the Great Spirit is like believers getting dressed for church. We come with respect for our God, but unlike people of faith, we come dressed in our special gifts. Warriors come dressed
as Warriors, women with gifts of giving bring produce gifts from the earth and those who are gifted with weaving colorful patterns of fabric, wear their colors for display and praise to our God. It was near dark now so I had some of the young men light the wood at the center of the field. I warned them sternly that it was their job to always look after the fire and never let it go out or the Spirit, who is a consuming fire, would consume them. They never believe me until I tell them the story about Moses and the burning bush. Luckily, the Jesuit Priests were good for something. Then they become quiet. Then I had some of the youth clean the track the tribe will dance on with tree brush. We set up a table for jugs of water, sweet herbs and hot apple cinnamon. We also placed freshly baked Indian bread, corn, figs, bananas and various
types of fruit so that we can celebrate after the pow wow. Along the outer ring of the circle facing east, I situated the musicians. Many had come early with their instruments and were waiting for my instructions. I positioned the drummers next to each other and next to them I placed the chatters and the rattles. There is a trail that leads to this sacred ground and along the trail are poles I had the young men light up with torches so that the whole tribe can find their way in the dark. Since the tribe has to make a small climb up to this area, one can see the trail of lighted poles leading from here to the main village. The main fire at the center of the ring was billowing with bright flames so that the whole area lit up like a bright light. The drummers started beating on their drums and started chanting the “Warrior Chant.� Many of the tribe members had gathered now as it
became pitch black despite the flames intensity. As they waited for our leader, many of them started to dance and chant in place, not moving but mostly getting warmed up. Everyone waited for a good half hour as the flames began to subside and the crowd began to get restless. Then out of nowhere came a loud shout and Great Eagle appeared out of nowhere, jumping into the midst of the crowd. The members were startled and yet they were also excited as well. Great Eagle was crowned with immense deer antlers as he led the progression with the Deer Dance. In his right hand he held a long spear the length of his enormous frame. He was the tallest of our people. In his left hand he held a tomahawk dipped in blood. The Fariseos, dressed in black and representing evil, try to prevent the Deer from advancing. Dana Kingsberry is dressed in all black and
tries to butt the Deer but Great Eagle slays him and the others with his spear. The Pascolas, in respect for the Deer and in celebration throw flowers in the path of the Deer and at the crowd. Other Warriors follow the Great Deer in the Deer Dance, dressed in various animal colors and features. Some wear masks while others wear war paint. They sang this muse of praise to the Great Spirit in our Yaqui tongue as they danced: “O Lord our God how perfect are your ways O Lord our God how perfect are your ways Perfect in your righteousness Perfect in your holiness Perfect in your awesomeness O Lord our God O Lord our God.�
The women followed wearing outfits of fine fabric in the Yaqui tradition, dancing and chanting. Some of the elder tribal members do not dance but sit at the western edge of the circle as a sign of respect for them. Sometimes we have a flute player play a muse. The whole tribe is in harmonious movement, chanting and yelling victory. Everyone is dancing in the Pow Wow circle celebrating the Yaqui culture and spirit of our people. After Great Eagle makes a full circle, he will sit down at the north end of the circle, we call the head of the circle and wait till all of the members have danced and worshiped and offered their sacrifices to the Great Spirit. Then they will begin to sit down in front of the seat of Great Eagle and wait for him to speak a word to the whole tribe. The Elders decided not to call on the other local Tribes tonight because they
feared the situation would escalate into something bigger than was necessary. They decided to keep it internal and personal with the regional governments help. At the end of the Deer Dance, all the members sat facing Great Eagle as he stood up at the north end of the circle. He lifted up his enormous spear to the sky and cried out in a loud voice: “Oh divine Spirit. Hear our plea. We ask for justice for our leader Wise Owl. You bring rain so that our crops can grow. You bring sunshine to strengthen our spirits and lighten our paths. Our brothers the Jesuits taught us that in your word “Vengeance is mine.” So we know you will answer and avenge the mystery of our great leader‟s disappearance.” All of the members rose and shouted in agreement. Afterwards, all the members made their way to the
table for fruit and drinks while the older members went to their teepees being exactly midnight.
Chapter 7 It was late the following night that I received word from one of the tribal elders that Great Eagle was missing. No one knew his whereabouts. Some of the elders met in the village questioning each other but no one knew anything. I decided to pay a visit to Johnny Lightfoot to see if he knew anything but when I got to the outer end of the reservation, Johnny was missing too. Another sentry, Big Bear Frank, was manning Johnny
Lightfoot‟s post. I would rather have Big Bear Frank there instead of Johnny because he was probably the only one in our tribe who could stand up to Great Eagle in height and stature. He was a huge brave. But I could understand Great Eagle‟s thinking. He may need someone who could move like lightning and Johnny Lightfoot was the fastest of our people. “Big Bear,” I asked as I approached him at the outer part of our reservation. “Where is Johnny Lightfoot? “Uncle” he replied. “Great Eagle, Dana Kingsberry, Johnny Lightfoot and the loco brothers went to the Waste Management place to talk to the owner and ask him about Wise Owl and Light Feather. They should have returned by now.” I didn‟t have time to get mad at Big Bear knowing he could not do
anything but do what Great Eagle said. For a while I just stood looking towards the west, watching the sun descend, hoping for the best but expecting the worst. Finally, I decided to call the tribal leaders to tell them that I discovered where Great Eagle had gone. They were all silent but concerned. They too were helpless in doing anything for it was our tradition not to meddle in the white manâ€&#x;s affairs. In the back of their minds I suppose they were thinking of Wise Owl and how he disappeared. We all were dumbfounded and speechless. None of the tribal leaders said anything, even Loco Joe. Finally we decided to just wait till we heard something from Great Eagle himself. As several days passed, Big Bear spotted several horses approaching the reservation at noon, two white women both with long, white hair. As
they came to the entrance of our reservation, they dismounted their horses and sheepishly approached Big Bear. They didn‟t know what to expect from us as they trembled, asking him if he would take them to there Chief. I imagine anyone who didn‟t know Big Bear Frank would shake like a tree since he was a towering figure but he was as gentle as an aged bear and just as friendly if you knew him. Big Bear didn‟t say anything but motioned for them to follow him. So they grabbed the reigns of their horses and followed him on foot till they came to our tribal hut. One of the young braves came running to my teepee to tell me the news. I told him I would go to the tribal hut shortly. “What do you think they want?” asked Soft Dove. “Well,” I replied. “Hopefully they have news about Great Eagle.”
“I fear the worst,” said Soft Dove as tears began to fall down her cheeks. “I feel that you are all too right my love.” as I held her in my arms and tried to consol her. “I must go and inquire about Great Eagle.” As I entered the tribal hut, the two ladies quickly rose to greet me. I could tell they were afraid, never being on Yaqui land before and not having any sense of how they would be greeted. They seemed to have embraced the notion that all Native Americans were savage beasts. So I quickly approached them and shook their hands. “Welcome to our Yaqui land.” I told them right away trying to make them feel less fearful. “My name is White Cloud. Please be seated.” “My name is Mary Beth Williams,” said the lady who seemed
to be the outgoing one. The other woman was very shy and quiet. “We have come to bring news about the Indians who we believe are from your tribe, the tall brave whom I heard was called Great Eagle and the others.” “Yes,” I assured her. “He is our Chief.” “Well, Mr. White Cloud. I am the daughter of the owner of the company that your Chief visited. And I came to tell you that a lot of what happens in my father‟s company is wrong.” She stopped to get her breath and was struggling to continue. One of our women came in with fresh water and a basket of fruit. I told her to pour our guests some water and put some fruit in a bowl. “Please go on.” I encouraged her. “You have nothing to be afraid of here in telling me the truth about our Chief.”
“Well,” she labored but continued. “My father is a crooked man.” “So your father owns this Waste Management Company?” I interrupted her wanting to know clearly. “Yes,” she said. “He lets my brothers run the company and they are a motorcycle gang who only like to cause trouble. When your Chief appeared, there was a biker‟s gettogether going on with bikers from every state gathered that day. I was in the front office when your Chief came in and asked my father about the whereabouts of his father. My father was drunk with alcohol that day and he was braver than normal and so he became belligerent and asked your Chief what he was talking about. If it weren‟t for all the bikers who had showed up that day, he probably would never have been so bold but he knew he could do whatever he wanted
that day because of so many of them. My brothers got word that there were Indians in my father‟s office and they stirred up the bikers. They stormed his office and tied up all your people with chains.” The woman started to cry and put her face in her hands. Then she proceeded to tell me how they dragged our people on the dirt behind their motorcycles. Then they let them go and kicked them as they lay on the ground helpless, bloody with their skin torn from being dragged in the dirt and rocks. They took Great Eagle and put him on a cross the way they did the Great One and threw rocks at him, mocking and making fun of him. She continued, “One of your people got away somehow. Although he could run fast, one of the bikers shot him with a rifle as he tried to escape.
“I…I was struck with horror,” said Mary Beth. “I couldn‟t believe what my eyes were seeing. I wrote a letter to the Director for Native American Affairs and even tried to wire everyone I could but I couldn‟t wait for a response. I had to come and tell you myself” “I think I need to report this to our Regional Lawyer.” I told them. “Where are the bodies of our people?” I asked. “I‟m not sure,” said Mary Beth “because we were taken away to my father‟s house outside the company premises to keep us from knowing anything, me and my younger sister Linda Sue here. But I couldn‟t take the lies and dishonesty and had to come and tell you what happened. This was cruel and completely wrong.” “I cannot tell you how grateful I am for your honesty and concern. I
and the Yaqui people are very thankful that you have come to share what you know with us so we can rest knowing the truth of what happened to our great Chief. It is a long journey back to your home. Please remain the night with us as our guests.” “We would be honored,” said Mary Beth. I called one of the lady elders over and told her to ready a teepee for our guests for the night and to tell the women to prepare water and food also. I told some of our young men who are good with horses to clean them and give them fresh water and food for tomorrow‟s journey. The women who are in charge of cooking made the preparations while I told another one of my personal assistants to tell all of the tribal elders to meet at the tribal hut when the sun rises.
Chapter 8 In the morning, I asked Mary Beth to recount what she told me to the tribal elders. There was much sadness when she spoke of the horror that befell Great Eagle and the rest of our braves. It was probably in the back if their minds that this tragic event again touched our people, echoing what happened to Wise Owl. We thanked Mary Beth and Linda Sue, telling them they were always welcome to visit and that they have a
place of honor in our hearts and among our tribe. We lavished them with gifts of turquoise beads and woven Indian clothing. We gave them plenty of water and food for their journey, which we suggested they leave early sunrise to avoid the sunâ€&#x;s wrath. I sent an escort with them to the California border to report to me if they were being followed. A few days later, the Regional Lawyer appeared with the bodies of all our brave men. All of the tribal members assembled around a large wooden wagon being pulled by two black mules. Quickly I gave the order to my assistant to gather as many young men as possible and start digging for our braves. All the tribal members followed the wagon as I directed the driver to take the bodies to an open field not far from where we have our pow wow. There we would say our respects for our
brothers and hold a quick gathering and prayer before we lay the bodies in their burial ground. As the wagon came to a stop, many of the members were mourning with their heads dejectedly downward. I could sense a wave of shock and humiliation among my tribe. We were again a people without a leader. I was the one the tribe elected leader if things like this were happen. But I was growing old and soon we would need young blood to take over. Grey Buck was only a child and he would need time to simply grow before he was even considered a leader, besides we needed to see if he had any Chief blood in his veins. Running Deer came to the wagon and gave out a loud cry, moaning heavily. Many of the women surrounded her, trying to comfort her, joining in with her weeping. Soft Dove took Grey Buck when Running
Deer approached the wagon. Many of the young men started to chant as the mood began to swing to more of a pow wow service. But the chant was short lived because the somber spirits prevailed. As we ended our chant, we huddled around the wagon and I started to pray to the Great One for our brave and fallen brothers. I was very aware of the feelings of our people but as I prayed I started to break down and cry when I remembered Great Eagle running to our teepee when Grey Buck was born. He looked up to me for everything and now he was gone. My tears turned to anger as I prayed that the Great Spirit would some day give us revenge. The revenge I sought for Wise Owl did not come and now I had to live with the sudden death of Great Eagle. Hope put off made my heart weary. I prayed that I would not go down to my grave until I saw the
justice due my people. I could sense the younger braves wanted to start a war chant but I gave the word to let us mourn silently for our loved ones. Then I spoke these words to them all: Although the heart seeks blood the sun goes down ending the day. Where the mind is worrisome the truth prevails leading the way. Ours is not a struggle forcing a seed to grow out of its season. But watering and waiting day after day until it germinates once dormant it hears the call of its creator “Now is the time to bloom Now is the making for seed time and harvest�
For one day this seed will emerge into a mighty buck And he will gather our people with one accord and written on his forehead in fire it will say “Vengeance is mine.�
We laid our warriors to rest. We laid Great Eagle in a private burial ground separate from the others as a way of honoring him. Running Deer stayed and wept at the grave sight. It became very late but with the urging of the women, she quietly was escorted to her teepee.
TWENTY YEARS LATER
Chapter 9 “Throw it over the edge,” I told She who runs like the Wind. “Father?” she asked me. “He will fall over the cliff.” “Yes,” I replied. “I want to test his loyalty.” “But Father,” she protested. “These are your beads that have your history on them.” “I know my daughter,” I assured her. “I know.” She who runs like the Wind grew up with Grey Buck. They were
inseparable. She was everything a mate would want. She gave Grey Buck a run for his money as the white man says. She wasn‟t my daughter. That‟s just what the young call me out of respect. She just looked at me not understanding my crazy request but out of respect obeyed. Grey Buck was standing at the edge of a cliff overlooking the Arizona Forest holding his father‟s spear in his right hand. He wasn‟t paying attention to what She who runs like the Wind and I were talking about. The cliff‟s edge didn‟t drop straight down. It sloped at an angle so that anyone could survive if they fell over. One only had to be quick and alert at what they were doing to avoid getting hurt “Hey doe!” said the Wind to Grey Buck. “See if you can catch these.” Grey Buck turned around and saw the beads in her hand as she threw them over his head and just to the side
of him, out of his reach. When Grey Buck recognized them as belonging to me, he started to run and jump after them but then he extended the spear in his hand instead, nabbing them in the air. He looked at them and then walked over to me and handed them over. “Father, these are yours!” said Grey Buck. “Why did you try and throw them over the cliff?” He asked She who runs like the Wind. “She only did what I asked her to do my son,” I told him. “I only wanted to see how you would react and you did well,” I replied. “She who runs like the Wind needs to learn a lesson,” he said jokingly. “You have to catch me first He who runs like a turtle,” she retorted. And they were both off, playing like two children who hadn‟t learned to grow up. Grey Buck looked exactly like his father Great Eagle. He had his
stature and looks but one thing he didn‟t have was his father‟s impatience. I was surprised to see him use the spear to grab my beads. Even I was not expecting that. He somehow inherited Wise Owl‟s sense of looking at things. It was time to prepare him to be our next leader. Even though it had been some time since Great Eagle‟s death, in my mind it was as if it happened only yesterday. Time was however against me. I hungered for vengeance like bread. Many of our tribal members knew he would take over for his father Great Eagle but Grey Buck had not grown into his own yet. He spent more time outside the Yaqui land hunting, exploring and learning. He had the curiosity of Wise Owl but not the maturity. One day, I gathered some of the young braves together and told them to come with me as we walked outside the reservation overlooking
the California Desert. Puma had been talking with Cochiti while Black Crow and Hiute were near by. These were brave young men, fighting men. “You know our history,” I told them. “We are a people who keep to themselves. Our great leader Wise Owl vanished without any word from him and Light Feather. You are young now but many of you may know what happened to our leader Great Eagle. The time has come for us to move forward and seek redemption.” I could tell by the way they were looking at me that they didn‟t understand what I was telling them. I needed to educate them on our history. “It was foretold in a prophecy that one would come and give us vengeance for the injustice done to Great Eagle. He had suffered cruelly by the hands of the white man at the waste facility in California.”
“Father,” said Black Crow. “What are we to do? We live in peace here on the reservation and we follow the Native American Code towards all men.” “Yes,” I answered. “But we must listen to the Great Spirit as He leads us to purify our people from what is wrong. Grey Buck must come into his destiny and lead us to avenge the wrong done to us as a people when they disgraced our leaders. When this thing happened, we remained dormant and let things rest. Soon the harvest will be here and we must reap.” “But what should we do?” asked Hiute. It took me a long time to explain to these braves the whole story behind my urging. With tears and words of anger, each man looked me in the eye as I swore them to secrecy concerning the fate of Wise Owl and my heart‟s desire for revenge on the death of
Great Eagle. After I was finished, I could tell these young warriors wanted blood and would do anything I asked of them to get it. “Father,” said Black Crow. “What do you want us to do?” “You must play a unique part in shaping our history,” I said. “You must help Grey Buck come into his own destiny. We are going to declare war against this California Company and we will fulfill our dreams of purging out the wrong done to us. My sons, it would be wrong to declare war without a purpose and for the sake of selfish gain. Our Native American Code is to live at peace with all men. And we have. But when someone attacks and kills our people, then my blood cannot rest until the Great Spirit‟s work is done.” The young men started to dance the warrior dance after I said these words. Their young blood started to
boil and they were ready for action. I instructed them to follow my lead and I would direct them as the days moved forward.
Chapter 10 During the coming months, a great deal happened. Many complained about losing personal belongings, precious and special things. Soon many were murmuring and complaining but no one did anything to resolve their problems. I watched Grey Buck as he wondered about these things and I sensed he was puzzled in his mind as if he should do something but was not sure why or if he should be the one to investigate. I
sent Black Crow over to She who runs like the Wind and told him to flirt with her, for which he was more than happy to do. Black Crow was a fierce warrior whose body physique was all muscle. There were not many braves who disrespected Grey Buck and his seven foot frame but Black Crow saw him as a kid who needed to grow up. Black Crow was older and more arrogant. So he went over to see the Wind when he knew Grey Buck was busy working on something on the reservation. The Wind was out in the desert hunting game when Black Crow spotted her. Black Crow cut his finger with his knife and pretended a snake bit him. He acted like he was out hunting also. The Wind saw him holding his hand and turned around to see what had happened. “Black Crow?” she said. “What happened to your hand?”
“I threw my knife at a wild hare and missed,” he said. “When I went to pick it up, a diamond back bit me.” “Let me see,” the Wind said. “It doesn‟t look like the bite of a diamond back.” “Yes,” said Black Crow. “The Spirit who protects us perhaps was kind to me because it seems the teeth didn‟t enter my hand; it seems as if it cut away as I pulled my hand quickly when surprised.” She who runs like the Wind thought it was a good answer and despite the circumstances, she took a knife from a side sheath and cut a piece of red cloth she had tied to her waist. Then she took a small pouch from the exact area and put some aloe on the cloth then wrapped the wound tightly closed. “Thank you sister,” Black Crow said.
At this time Grey Buck walked over. He always came to see the Wind when he was done working on the reservation or some other task. “Brother,” asked Grey Buck. “What has happened to your hand?” “I was hunting a wild hare when I bent down for my knife and was bit by a snake,” said Black Crow. “I thank the Great One the Wind was here to clean my wound because I came unprepared. I go now. My hunting day is short.” I was watching things unfold from a distance. Black Crow did exactly what I wanted him to do. At least he planted the seed of jealousy. But time was wasting as many things continued to happen yet Grey Buck did nothing, being a reluctant leader. It wasn‟t that he could not lead; it was that he was never asked to lead. He could step in any time but we as a people never ceremoniously appointed him Chief;
which may have been our problem. I tried to force the issue myself but I now had to admit I was wrong. We needed to impose the position on him and make him Chief right away, and then declare war. I privately returned the items that were taken in secret and stopped other activities concerning the development of Grey Buck and called the Tribal Leaders together to tell them it was time to set Grey Buck as Chief so he can grow and give our people leadership. Later I walked up to Grey Buck who was surprised to see me so far away from the reservation. I admit, it was a difficult walk and I could tell my days were getting shorter just by how long it took for me to get to the exact spot where I started to talk to Grey Buck. “Father,” he said surprised to see me so far away from our village. “You should have sent a young brave for me.”
“Perhaps so my son,” I said as I sat down in the shade of a small white oak tree. “But it was important that I see you. We ride out before the sun rises, only you and I. There is something I need to show you that only you need to see and you must give me your word that it will be kept secret until the proper time.” “I don‟t understand Father,” Grey Buck said. “I know,” I said reassuringly. “Tomorrow you will know everything.” Early morning, we rode off in the direction of the California border, the way Soft Dove and I did years ago when we went looking for Wise Owl and Light Feather. I could tell by Grey Buck‟s demeanor that he was suspicious of something but trusted me, patiently waiting for whatever it was that I was going to show him. It
was a warm night as I sat on my horse riding down the trail till we came to the point where we had to turn left or right. I laughed to myself when I recalled Soft Dove and I thinking we should go towards the south, when we were redirected to the opposite way by our friend the owl. So I guided us in that same direction when we came to it. Nothing had changed over the years as if the area was cursed and everything and everyone was forbidden to travel in this area. I finally located the heap of sand slightly off the trail and knew it was the spot I was looking for. I stopped my horse and dismounting, found a branch to tie him to. Grey Buck didnâ€&#x;t ask questions but only followed my lead. When we came to the area where my brother was buried, hot tears started to pout down my checks for I could not control what my heart
felt inside. Grey Buck looked at me in horror as if he had seen a spirit. “Father?” he asked. “What is wrong?” It took me awhile to gain my composure when I finally was able to say something. “Son…”I said as best as I could without choking any more…”underneath this pile of dust and sand lie your grandfather and grandmother.” “What?” Grey Buck said, “Father? How can it be?” And not waiting but in a hysterical fervor, he started to uncover some of the sand until the rusted bumper of my brother‟s truck became exposed. He could not contain his anger and started to cry out loud tears of sadness and anger. He squatted down and rested his head on the bumper and wept bitterly. He sat there for some time weeping and moaning. Finally he
came to his senses and stood up, facing me, asking me who did this as his countenance turned to bitter anger and rage. It took me some time to recount to him what had happened to his grandfather and grandmother but he was moved to unceasing tears as I told him about his father Great Eagle and the restlessness he lived with, wanting to know what had happened to his father. I told him the day he was born, Great Eagle was the happiest father alive. And yet down deep inside he wished to share his happiness with his father, but he never could. Then I told him about his destiny and why he was born; to lead our people and take the place of his grandfather and father. All Grey Buck could do was listen and weep as he was overwhelmed with a truth that was too heavy for him to carry. I told him his grandfatherâ€&#x;s wish was that if
anything every happened to him when he took this journey years ago, he wanted it to remain a secret. I gave my brother my word I would respect his wishes and told Grey Buck he needed to do the same. It was one of the longest rides back to the reservation I had ever taken. We said nothing as Grey Buck trailed behind weeping softly all the way as hot tears flowed down my cheeks as I reopened a wound that I tried to ignore years ago. The memory was always there, but the pain I tried to cover.
Chapter 11 The next day, I was alone at Great Eagleâ€&#x;s burial ground telling him of Grey Buckâ€&#x;s new awareness and wondered if we would ever get revenge when I looked in the horizon and saw two horses coming towards our reservation. It was at that moment that I sensed that the Spirit was directing our destiny, as if our time had come for it was our dear friends, Mary Beth and Linda Sue; friends we had not seen in quite some time. They were headed for the village as before,
so I started for that direction so that I could greet them. When I arrived at the village, I was told they were waiting for me in our tribal hut. So I walked in and saw their faces light up like the sun. We hugged each other and I asked for fresh water and food to be brought in for our special guests. I also told some young braves to tend to the needs of their horses as if they were my own. All the tribal members were glad to see them when they arrived. We spent some time talking about the years between their last visit and what was transpiring at the Waste Company. “My father is retiring from the company this year,” Mary Beth said. “He is going to hand over the company to my brothers. My brothers haven‟t changed. They still party, rebel rouse and cause trouble. They‟ve been talking for years about coming to your reservation to cause
trouble and I have an inside source telling me they are going to celebrate my brothers new promotions by raiding your village and they want to do more than just cause trouble because they think they can get away with it. They plan on having a huge party for their biker friends and then the next day, come to your reservation and cause a great deal of trouble.” I said I was very happy that they came to share this news with us. “Will this promotion take place soon?” I asked wanting to get a sense of how long I will have to prepare the tribe for this conflict. “My father is going to retire the last day of this year,” Linda Sue said. “so probably sometime soon, maybe two months from now.” “Please do not take this wrong,” I said to them calmly. “But maybe this is what the Great Spirit has prepared us for to make us strong. The wind
blows, the earth shakes, there are famines that occur at times, all to make us strong and not be unthankful to the one above for his kindness.” “It is funny that you should say that,” said Mary Beth as she rose and grabbed something wrapped in a red cloth. “As Linda Sue and I were riding here to give you warning, we found this on the path and felt it had meaning for you somehow. We thought this because we were on the way to come and see you and we have no need of it.” She unwrapped the cloth and in her hands was a petrified rock in the form of an ax head and on it looked what appeared to be engraved a cross. I almost shook in unbelief. She handed it to me as I looked at its beauty. “It is the symbol of the holy one the Jesuits taught us about years ago” I replied. “It is the symbol of the
ultimate sacrifice, the pouring of blood for redemption, an act in itself of judgment and forgiveness.” I held it as if it were a new born child then I looked at our guests and asked; “Do you know what the Jesuit‟s favorite saying to us was?” I asked as my guests looked at each other with a puzzled look. “They use to always quote the good book saying „Greater love has no man than this; that he lay down his life for his friends.‟ Soon we are going to see how much love my people have for each other.” In the morning, we led our guests out as a tribe to the edge of our reservation and gave them our blessings. Little did my people know how important our friend‟s visit meant to us as a people and little did they know how things were going to change. Our destiny was unfolding
before our eyes like the great sun which moves in its course without fail. I needed to talk to Grey Buck and show him the ax head, so I sent word by two braves and told them to go to the outside of the reservation and summon Grey Buck to see me at once at my teepee. It wasn‟t long before he appeared but he looked worn and tired, lacking strength. I could tell he was still grieving in his heart. “Father?” he asked. “Is there something wrong?” “There is nothing wrong at all,” I assured Grey Buck. “As a matter of fact, the Great Spirit is moving and is alive.” Then I took the ax head and showed him. “What is this Father?” he asked. “It is a sign from above.” I said. “Your destiny draws near.” “I don‟t understand,” he said. “After your father passed away there was a prophesy that you would
lead our people to avenge your father‟s death. At the time we did not know what this meant and soon it was a forgotten prophesy. Look at the ax. Here is the meaning of our purpose.” “I still don‟t understand Father,” Grey Buck said. “The two white women” I said, “who we have become friends with years ago showed up in our village and revealed to us that those who killed your father are planning a raid on our reservation.” Grey Buck‟s eyes lit up like light. Anger began to surface as he reflected on the meaning of my words. “I have waited a long time for this day to arrive my son.” I told him. “Now is the time for you to take your place among our people. You have to prepare our people for war and to protect us from defeat so we do not lose our history or our people.”
When I reminded Grey Buck that these were the same people that killed his grandfather and father, he seemed to finally understand and come alive, as if he finally understood why he existed.
Chapter 12 From that day forward, Grey Buck spent every waking hour teaching every tribal member how to use the bow and ax. We never made him Chief but he took charge as if he was appointed. He was still shy in asserting his will as our leader because he had a kind nature but everyone made it easy for him to accept the role. The entire elders saw he was driven with a passion and the entire braves saw a marked change in
him; one of a leader trying to fulfill a purpose. They didnâ€&#x;t know he was preparing them for war, so he used his training to remind them that it was important for the survival of the tribe to always be prepared for war. The older members thought his efforts were unnecessary but admired his attitude. Soon he had the younger braves digging trenches at the bottom of the hill that lead to the reservation. Then he had them dig more ditches at the California border so that no trucks from the waste company could enter Native American soil and if they tried, they would end up stuck in a ditch. He had every member practice shooting arrows, tossing spears and axes, and hurling rocks from off the side of the cliff. He made traps on the ground leading to the reservation made of wood spikes. If any one stepped on one, the trap shot up and a wood spike
would be driven into the enemyâ€&#x;s foot. Some dug holes and covered them with dirt and foliage and if walked on, the foot would fall into a hole of thorns. Then there was the ground that was covered with dirt but was a large hole that could be fallen into. Some of the holes Grey Buck put rocks or cactus in. He studied the paths that best lead to the top of the hill leading to the reservation and placed metal bear and deer traps. As Grey Buck was intent on his efforts in laying traps and other surprises, the very young boys of our tribe were inspired by what they saw him doing and started to gather around him. So he divided them and told some to gather as many rocks as they could for putting into a sling shot and make a big pile, while the other group was to collect rocks as big as their fists. While they gathered their rocks, Grey Buck had young braves
set up four poles with crosses on top for the rock slingers to hit. Then he had poles put at the bottom of the hill but not put into the ground until he gave the word. When the rocks were gathered, he had the young boys of our tribe stand fifty feet away from the poles and aim for the crosses at the top of the poles. He knew they would need to practice but he encouraged them to try hard and they would hit the cross. He then headed down the sloped hill and told the boys to throw a rock down as far as they could. After several tries, Grey Buck told the men to set the poles in the ground some twenty feet farther where he knew they could hit them only after they had pleany of practice. I was surprised to see a little of Wise Owl in Grey Buck. He wanted to stretch them as much as he could. While Grey Buck was doing these things, She who runs like the Wind
was working with the young women of our tribe. She had them gather many small, strong sticks no longer than a fingerâ€&#x;s length and then had them sharpened. Then she and the women gathered poison from a small lot outside the reservation called the herbs of poison. Here they gathered parts from Yellow Oleander, Tree Tobacco, Pathos, Philodendron, Century Plant, the Candelabras Cactus and berries from Mistletoe. After they cleaned the items carefully not touching the poisonous parts, they grounded them until they became a liquid form and added a red dye so that the darts were all the same color. Day after day went by and both Grey Buck and She who runs like the Wind worked at a feverish pace. Finally, the tribe began to get tired and started to question what they were doing and why. Although earlier
generations of our Yaqui people had to prepare for war, this generation didn‟t. So they began to question the need to continue with these efforts. I was happy when Grey Buck came up to me and said that he felt the tribe needed to know what was going to happen to them so that they would take his training seriously. “What are you proposing to do?” I asked him. “We need a pow wow to inform our people of the coming enemy,” he said. I encouraged him to take charge and to lead the pow wow as Chief of our people. He was reluctant at first but understood that it was his destiny and responsibly also. So I suggested he wait a few days to let our people rest, then announce one in seven days. He agreed and waited for the right time and announced the pow wow in six moons.
Chapter 13 The entire tribe gathered at the sacred pow wow meeting grounds. We waited but Grey Buck was not there yet. Then one of the braves said he was coming up the hill. We all watched as he strove our way in full warfare attire. He had Great Eagles spear and he held the ax with the cross in his right hand. He towered over the rest of us and I sensed everyone had a new fond respect for him. He made his way to the front of
the crowd were the Tribal Elders sat facing the people. The Elders stood when he walked in front of them and all the people became silent. When he raised the ax, the people sat down on the open grass. He held the ax up a little while longer and remained quiet for over a minute. The silence was deafening. It seemed forever. Finally he spoke. “Look…a gift from the Great Spirit,” he said as he held the ax up again for everyone to see the symbol of the cross on the ax. The sun shown on the ax and made the petrified wood look as if it was made of clear glass and the cross could be seen as if it were carved in the middle. Everyone was awed by its beauty. They may not have understood the meaning but they respected what Grey Buck was saying. “The greatest injustice of all,” Grey Buck continued, “is in this
symbol. The one who knows all about injustice is the Holy One who the Jesuits said loved all men and suffered by his own creation out of love. We have hope because the Great Spirit suffered injustice. If he can suffer for us, then we can suffer for each other so that we can survive as a people, nation and tribe. All nations under the earth have suffered in some way or another but the red man knows all too well about hurt and sorrow. Our native brothers have lost their lands that were given to them from the Great Spirit, only to be taken away by the white man. The great Geronimo said „I was no chief and never had been, but because I had been deeply wronged than others, this honor was conferred upon me, and I resolved to prove worthy of the thrust.â€&#x; Even the noble Chief Joseph was not a warrior but protected his nation in an honorable way by
refusing to accept slavery. But when his heart could not stand the sorrow, he said „Hear me, my chiefs! I am tired. My heart is sick and sad. From where the sun now stands I will fight no more forever.‟ Since the arrival of the white man, we have been driven on to reservations and striped of our land. Even Cochise questioned this injustice when he said „When I was young I walked all over this country, east and west, and saw no other people than the Apaches. After many summers I walked again and found another race of people had come to take it. How is it?‟ The Great Spirit created all things for all men to enjoy. But through the lies of „manifest destiny‟ the white man has abused their power. They said lies and injustice were ok and took what didn‟t belong to them. Is this the heart of the Great Spirit? Would he do something like this to all men? I strongly agree
with Chief Tecumseh of the Shawnee when he said of his land „This Great Spirit in His wisdom gave it to you and your children to defend, and placed you here.‟ The tribe could no longer contain themselves and stood up yelling, chanting and ready to go for war. After awhile, Grey Buck held the ax up and motioned for everyone to sit down again. “My brothers and sisters,” Grey Buck continued, “my fathers and mothers…I have not told you the most unjust acts of all yet. Some of you questioned privately why I was teaching many to prepare for war. Now is the time to reveal to you the truth. Many moons ago, our great leader Wise Owl and Light Feather left our reservation and never returned to us. They never came back because they were murdered by the white men from the California Company.”
A great shock went throughout the tribe. They were stunned by the revelation. “It was deep sorrow and pain that drove my father Great Eagle to seek justice but in the end he too suffered from the hands of this same company. White Cloud has informed me that the two white women who have become our friends, have warned us that many men from this company plan to attack us and do us harm. Despite the many years that have passed by, their hate for us still runs deep. This is why we have been preparing for war.” After Grey Buck said this I arose to support what he said. “Grey Buck is right,” I said. “Wise Owl swore me to secrecy not to say anything to anyone if something were to happen to him if he went to this waste company to investigate why they were dumping waste onto our land. But when the fullness of time
came for Grey Buck to take his place as our leader, I needed to tell him the truth so that he could fulfill his destiny, as it was prophesied he would. Now we need to give him our complete support because our history as a people depends on it.” After saying this I sat down to let Grey Buck continue. “We must fight,” Grey Buck resumed, “for the memory and honor of those who went before us. We must remember Wounded Knee. We must remember The Trail of Tears. Someday they will say we fought for Wise Owl and Great Eagle and for the history of the Yaqui people and for all Native Americans who suffered the same sorrow and injustice. But one thing we have that makes us invincible (as he held the ax up for all to see), we have the hand of the Holy One with us.”
At this all the tribal members rose with a great shout of triumph. They celebrated and danced. Afterwards, all the members went to their places and rested. Grey Buck went to Great Eagles burial ground and told him he would give him justice so that he could rest in peace. He said he would not rest until the final hour came when he paid retribution on the heads of those who did his father wrong. Over a short period of time, Grey Buck had gained the respect and admiration of the whole tribe. This generation of Yaqui had not known war and they were glad they had a leader who worked hard for their survival. The very thought of becoming extinct as a tribe brought a lot of stress and worry on our people. Everyone could see in his eyes that Grey Buck too was worried about each and every tribal member. He spent a great deal of time assuring
everyone that he would take care of them and that they were going to fight as one people and that the culture and history of the Yaqui people, like times before, would prove that we were a resilient people capable of surviving any attack. He stressed he would do anything to make sure we were victorious in battle.
Chapter 14 We did not expect them to come for another month but for some reason they came as if trying to surprise us. Grey Buck sent the word out for everyone to take their positions and be ready for action. He and I went to the edge of the reservation overlooking the valley. We watched as mostly bikers tried to cross onto our land first. Then some would fall into ditches, holes and other booby traps. This slowed them down a little. Then they gave up their motorcycles
and started to walk towards our land, only to find other booby traps waiting for them. We could hear yells and screams from the distance as they started to curse us for setting them. But they still kept coming. Every once and a while, we would hear a scream or yell of pain go up when they ran into a ditch or stepped onto some thorns, but others kept coming. As they got closer to climbing the slope up to our reservation, the young braves who gathered many rocks the size of their hands, stationed themselves ready to throw them while the other braves who practiced with the sling shots prepared behind them. When they got close enough, Grey Buck gave the word for the young braves to start throwing rocks. The bikers didnâ€&#x;t expect this because many of them were out of shape and were looking down as they climbed the slope, stopping many times to
catch their breath. They became irate when rocks the size of fists started to rain down on them. They retreated talking among themselves what they should do. Then some came from behind carrying rifles and pistols. So they started to shoot towards us hoping we would run but we called up the braves with the sling shots and started to rain down rocks on them while keeping out of range and aim of fire. The warriors brought out their rifles and guns and lay at the edge of the hill and started to shoot back but only to intimate those who carried guns. Since those climbing the slope had no protection from tress because it was a barren slope, they had to fall back and come up with another plan. One of our scouts said there was an old man sitting in a jeep by himself. I remember our friends saying their father wanted to see the whole tribe wiped out and if he were to show up
he more likely would not be able to walk and would be staying in a truck. Grey Buck asked for his grandfathers Winchester. He took aim at the man in the truck knowing he was the father and shot him straight between the eyes. All the bikers motioned towards the jeep and found the old man dead. They started to yell curses towards the hill. But they knew they could do nothing for the time being. So they waited until dark to attack knowing they could climb the slope at the protection of night. But we stationed posts at the top of the hill and lit them brightly. We put up as many as we could so that it lit up the valley below. We also stationed our dogs at the perimeter of the reservation so that the bikers could hear them bark so that they would know what they would meet next if they attacked. We set lookouts for the night watch.
We chanted the 13th hour. At dusk, there was the sound of many bullets hitting the top of the hill. This caught us by surprise. They went back and brought machine guns. Several of our lookouts were killed. They kept firing their machine guns hoping we would fall back but we held our ground. The bikers tried to climb the hill under the cover of machine fire but we quickly made sticks with cloths and bandanas on them hoping they would believe they were Yaqui people moving around and aim at them. And it worked! As they aimed for these sticks, our best shooters aimed for those who had machine guns and started to pick them off one by one. Also, Grey Buck called the women to the front line and told them to be ready with the poison darts when a biker got close. Several young
bikers made it up the hill rather easily although it was over two hundred feet to the top, but their eyes opened wide with fear when they were greeted by our dogs then hit in the neck by a poisonous darts. Everyone one of the bikers who made it to the hill was pelted with a poisonous dart. Quickly they lay dead at the top of the slope. Then there was silence. The machine guns stopped. The bikers didnâ€&#x;t know what to do when they say their own lying dead on the slope. Then suddenly, a small Yaqui child got away from her mother and started to walk a short distance to a bike who managed to get nearly to the top of the slope. The mother cried for her baby to come back but it was too late, she was headed towards the biker who was carrying a club. Grey Buck went after the child but the biker was not going to harm the child. He had his club up in the air before he even knew
a child was before him. He was only in an off-balanced position and only appeared as if he were going to harm the child. When Grey Buck came to rescue the child, machine fire from several machine guns sprayed at him hitting him many times. The biker motioned towards the bottom of the hill to stop firing because there was a young child near. He fell on it to protect it. Then he got up and walked to the top and handed the crying baby to its mother. Everyone stood around stunned. No one knew what to do. The biker returned to the place where Grey Buck lay and kneeled as if saying a prayer asking him to forgive him. Then he got up and walked down the hill and didnâ€&#x;t say a word to anyone who spoke to him. All the bikers collected their dead then headed back to the waste company. All the Yaqui tribe gathered around Grey Buck as he lay dead on the side
of the hill in a pool of blood, still clinching the ax with the cross on it. There we sat, mourning the loss of our young leader. I am close to the red river. My time ends with the descending of the sun. I mourned the death of Grey Buck as if he were my son. He sacrificed his life for the sake of a child and for us all. He who knew tragedy all too well gave unselfishly, like the Holy One. We as a people felt a deep shock and loss we can not explain, but the one who felt the lost the most was She who runs like the Wind; for she told me later she was carrying their child.
Although the heart seeks blood the sun goes down ending the day.
Where the mind is worrisome the truth prevails leading the way.
The Red River: By Chief Grey Buck From the throne of the Great Spirit flows many rivers many rivers of many colors. In my veins flows the blood from the Red River. It is not my choosing. The Great One made me who I am. Each river comes from the same source. How can one be more important than the other? We breathe the same air… walk the same land… survive the same way… our destiny is manifest by the Holy One. Who then can say one people are greater than the next? Behold the mighty Sequoia!
Out of a single seed sprouts a majestic guardian of the forest. And still it will someday fall and out of its death will spring life for another generation. Who can say they are wise like an Owl to make such a wonder? Look at the great Eagle in the sky! Such majesty cannot be compared to him. Yet it claims the highest heavens as its home. Who can be its master? Look at the beauty of the stream. It is teeming with life. Even the mighty Buck must submit to its call to drink. The water is clear but you can still see it! Who can understand such mysteries? And still all men show no respect for the creator’s works.
He who is above, will not share his glory with a boastful man who does not honor his ways and his laws. Listen my people! One day, the Great Spirit will call all men to an accounting. The Great One is the guardian of the forest of life. He lives like the Eagle who broods in the highest heavens His wisdom is like the Owl and is above all. He creates the mighty Buck to fulfill His purpose. All things will come to an end, even the lies and broken promises of the white man. No my people‌it is better to walk humbly before our maker and to respect all that he has made and to cherish the earth.
For some day our bodies will return to the ground also but our spirits will rise and celebrate before the Great throne that issues forth the eternal Red River. Psalm 46:4 There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God, the holy place where the Most High dwells.