Orenda

"Orenda" is a short story that takes place in the Pacific Northwest of the United States. It is set against the background of the Makah tribe and their culture.

    The narrow canoe rocked violently among the thrashing waves of the hazy Pacific Ocean. As it struggled to stay afloat upon the unsteady surface, the eight Native American men on board shifted their lean bodies in an effort to prevent the vessel from tipping over. The tallest of these sinewy men stood unwaveringly at the front section of the canoe. This was the harpooner. He did not seem to take heed of the sea’s violence. The harpooner’s brown deep-set eyes remained focused upon the prey he was hunting. It was the same prey that his ancestors had pursued for thousands of years, in these same waters. This prey was the whale. And the Spirits of the Makah natives had given them their magic power to catch this whale.

    The harpooner’s name was Sea Hawk. He had keen, penetrating eyes that could see equally well at night as in the daytime. Sea Hawk’s naked legs stood firmly upon the cedar dugout canoe. He wore no clothes, save for a short tunic made of otter skin. This he wore around his waist. As the vessel drew closer to the gray beast, Sea Hawk began to speak gently to it. He offered promises of a great party in honor of the whale which would be held back at Sea Hawk’s village. Sea Hawk promised to dance for the whale, and to give it gifts of feathers. He sang to the whale, a song of ancient mystery and sadness. And as Sea Hawk did so, he quickly thrust his harpoon into the side of the enormous creature. It penetrated deeply into the whale’s flesh causing its gray skin to redden with blood. Sea Hawk continued to sing to the whale, for were they not friends?

    The whale dove and thrashed, desperately trying to escape back out to sea. Sea Hawk stopped singing. He now implored the whale to pull the wet and battered canoe toward the shore, for the other Makah men were holding the rope that was tied to the end of the harpoon. Attached to this rope were air bladders made from seals. It was essential that the whale not dive and vanish. Although sweat poured profusely from their muscular bodies, none of the natives spoke a word as they held on to the rope with all of their strength. They observed in stoic silence as the whale took turns swimming in two different directions; one minute he seemed to head back to the open sea, another toward the shore. But finally, the whale grew tired of the fight. His powerful tail gave out one last thrash, nearly tipping over the small canoe. But the Makah men displayed no signs of fear at this action, for they knew the village totem pole, that none of them had ever seen, gave them special protection. And as the whale died the Makah men chanted a tribute to the Spirits that had enabled them to capture this noble and magnificent creature.

    But there was one Makah hunter who did not share in the enthusiasm of his fellow whalers. This was Raven.  He was the second-best harpooner in the village. But for the Makah, second-best was not best. Raven was now busy swimming in the icy waters near the canoe. It was his responsibility to sew the mouth of the whale, preventing any air from escaping while the crew towed the beast back to shore. Raven was not only a good swimmer; he was also good at pretending to be Sea Hawk’s friend. They had competed at everything since childhood, when every game the two youths played seemed to have serious consequences. Sometimes Raven would win, but more often than not, the bigger, stronger Sea Hawk would defeat his friend. At these times Raven would pretend to laugh, patting his big friend on the back in congratulation. But just as he hid a secret garden where he grew extra food for himself, Raven hid a dark jealousy in his heart. For every attention Sea Hawk received from the villagers was like a harpoon shot to raven’s own heart.

    When the canoe returned to shore, the villagers came running to greet it. Some of the older men were already at the beach. These natives were busy hauling in various kinds of fish from the sea, for although they hunted game and planted vegetables, the Pacific Ocean provided much of the food supply for the Makah. Not far from the beach, the odor of fish being smoked in fire could be detected by anyone with a nose. The Makah women would dry out the captured fish, ensuring that their people would have food for the entire year. But the capture of the whale meant more than extra food or oil to trade with neighboring villages. It symbolized the sacred covenant between the sea and the Makah people.

    The children were the first to reach the canoe. These youngsters might have appeared odd to anyone not from the Pacific Northwest. For the heads of the Makah Native Americans were pointed sharp at the top. Did the Spirits bless this trait upon their most-favored people? Well, perhaps the Spirits had imparted the knowledge into the minds of the Makah women, for they made this miracle happen to everyone in the tribe. Soon after a Makah baby was born, it was attached to a board. Then, another small board was attached to its forehead. The force of the two boards would gently press the baby’s head into a pointed shape. This was a mark of pride and honor among the Native Americans of the Great Northwest.

    A steady rain poured down upon the villagers as they congregated around the emerging fisherman. The children shouted with delight as they examined the size of the creature. For a gray whale, this one was a considerable size. To the clapping innocents, this beast was colossal. The villagers now performed the traditional ceremonies and songs that an occasion like this necessitated. The whalers now pulled the brute farther upon the rocky shore, making use of strong ropes carefully constructed of whale sinew. As the villagers crowded around Sea Hawk, honoring him for having caught the great whale, Raven quietly took his knife and cut open the mouth of the beast. No one cared how he had risked his life to sew the mouth of the creature. It was Sea Hawk who would receive the glory and the attention of the Medicine Man.

    Sea Hawk walked with gravity and purpose as he approached the beast he had captured. He took his mussleshell knife and used it to cut a piece of flesh from the whale called the saddlepiece. This could be found between the center of the back of the beast and its tail. This choice piece of meat belonged to Sea Hawk by right of having killed the whale. The harpooner now carefully cut an oily piece of flesh out of the dead prey, then climbed back off of the carcass. Though he enjoyed the tribute of the villagers, Sea Hawk was now only looking for one person. This was Orenda, the beautiful Makah girl who wasn’t a Makah girl at all. It took some time to find her; the villagers were all dancing and chanting in a large body that made it difficult to find anyone. And it was quickly becoming dark; the sun had begun its sweep toward the far reaches of the western sea. But Sea Hawk was not a man to give up easily. And just as he had patiently sought out his whale, the young harpooner soon discovered his other prey.

    Of course she was not alone. There was rarely a time when Orenda was by herself. For she was the assistant to Tall Tree, the village Medicine Man. Tall Tree towered over the other men of the tribe. He had wide shoulders and thick arms that looked and were powerful. Although the Medicine Man was older than most of the other members of the Makah, he still was rumored to be strong enough to break any man’s back. Tall Tree might have been called Tall Legs; his brown trunk-like thighs seemed to bulge like those of a bear.The length of his legs that ran from his knees to his gigantic feet gave him the appearance of standing on redwood trees. But it was his face that truly caught one’s attention. It seemed to have as many lines in it as the Pacific Ocean had waves. It was a face that always seemed to be stony and serious in demeanor. One felt that no joke could ever force those full red lips of his to stretch in mirth. Though the sky was now pouring down rain upon Tall Tree’s long white hair, and he was becoming drenched, the Medicine Man did not wear a rain hat like his fellow villagers. And though it would have suited his massive nose, Tall Tree never wore shells in his nostrils like his fellow Makah. It was as if he wanted to be able to smell life in its most rosy and rancid forms.

    And how to describe Tall Tree’s eyes? They had a kind of resigned sadness to them, brown and traditionally Native American. Yet if you dared to look deeper into them, you would observe a strange hint of blueness. The skin under these eyes was flattened and reddish in appearance. But everyone in the village knew that the sad eyes of Tall Tree hid a ferocity, one that could corner one like a wolf with its prey. And no one in the Makah village wanted to become that prey.

    At the moment, Tall Tree was resting one large hand upon Orenda’s shoulder. It was difficult to tell whether he was leaning on his helper for support or was instead letting the young wolves of the village see that a much more dangerous animal was protecting her. Most people in the village were afraid of this animal. But Sea Hawk had just faced a gray whale and overcome it; he was determined to not let himself be scared away by this large beast. He took his knife and cut a piece from his share of the whale meat, then quickly placed the flesh into a wooden box he had left on shore for this very purpose. When he was certain that it was clean and presentable, Sea Hawk walked with pride and confidence in the direction of Tall tree and Orenda. He approached them as they stood in front of a rock, observing the results of the hunt.

    “The Spirits that protect our village have given us good magic,” Sea Hawk announced to the pair. “They guided me to throw my harpoon in true fashion and helped me to use right magic while talking the whale into swimming toward shore,” he added.

    Although Sea Hawk was directing his speech to Tall Tree, the young whaler could not help stealing a look at Orenda. This assistant to Tall Tree was short and slender. Unlike the ancient Medicine Man, she could have been no older than fifteen. Her hair was long and straight and as black as the bears who roamed the dark woods that lay not far from the Makah village. Perhaps the mystery and allure of Orenda lay in her perfectly rounded head, for she had never been given the ceremonial treatment that awaited every Makah baby. For Orenda was known to be not of the true Makah people.

    Orenda was now smiling shyly at the great harpooner, Sea Hawk. The traditional face paint on her full round cheeks stretched as her reddish-toned lips curved into a friendly grin. But just as quickly, Orenda lowered her head toward the ground in deference. Her beaded headband greeted Sea Hawk’s gaze instead of her brown eyes. The young whaler turned his attention back to the Medicine Man. Tall Tree was gazing straight into Sea Hawk’s eyes with a look of fierceness and questioning. There was something challenging in this gaze; few if any men in the tribe ever dared to answer such a gaze. For Tall Tree was known to walk with the Great Spirits and this gave him power that was not to be questioned.

    Sea Hawk now found himself hoping that the medicine man wasn’t looking down at the harpooner’s legs. For there he might have witnessed the trembling of Sea Hawk’s knees. But the younger man did not let this fear show on his face. He dared to return Tall Tree’s gaze with a stern look of his own. This surprised the taller, older man who nevertheless kept his own expression stony. Sea Hawk took this opportunity to take the wooden box he carried with the whale flesh and to offer it to Tall Tree. Again, the Medicine Man was surprised but again, was careful not to let it show.

    “What is this mischief, Sea Hawk?” Tall Tree asked of the younger man, a serious look visible upon his massive face. “All the Makah tribe know that the saddlepiece belongs to the brave man who catches and kills the whale. I am no poor slave who needs charity from you. What do you mean by this offering?” he inquired of the harpooner.

    Sea Hawk remained motionless. The confidence and determination he had worn earlier did not abandon him now. But the head of Orenda which had up to now been lowered toward the ground now raised itself. She stared intently at this brave young man who faced down terrifying sea creatures and even more terrifying land ones. And once again, the round-headed young woman smiled at Sea Hawk. When Orenda suddenly noticed the disapproving eyes of the medicine Man upon her she quickly covered her mouth with one small hand. But the smile remained.

    Tall Tree now seemed to lose his temper. He glared at the younger man and raised his voice. “Again I ask you harpooner…what do you mean by this offering?!” Sea Hawk moved closer to the towering Medicine Man. The young man made a sweeping gesture with his bare arm. He first indicated the sea; then he made a similar motion that included the sky. While doing these things, sea Hawk sang a song, the deep richness of his voice ringing in the crisp, evening air. Finally, the harpooner responded to Tall Tree’s inquiry.

    “Every Makah knows that it is not he alone who has the ability to catch the whale,” Sea Hawk began. “Who but the Spirits give us the power and magic to do this great thing? I am stronger sailing the sea, knowing that Tall Tree has spoken to the Spirits, learning their secrets and gathering the good magic that allows me to find the whale, to bring my canoe close to its side, and to guide my harpoon to give my brother whale a true stab. And who but the Spirits that Tall Tree summons makes my brother whale swim toward the land? It is true talk that Sea Hawk could not be Sea Hawk without the magic and power of the great Medicine Man, Tall Tree. So I offer this meat as a tribute to the wisdom of Tall Tree,” the young harpooner finished.

    Tall Tree’s icy demeanor never wavered during this speech. His large arms remained crossed and there was a frown visible upon his forehead. But, just for a moment, it appeared as if the usually cross brown eyes became blue with a hint of something like gratitude. Sea Hawk didn’t notice this change, but Orenda did. And this gave her courage to speak.

    “You do well to pay tribute to my master,” she said to Sea Hawk. Her voice had a light quality to it, higher in tone than the other Makah women. Again her difference made her stand out. “There is no Medicine Man on the entire Pacific coast that travels with the Spirits like my master. He gathers great knowledge because he has great courage. And perhaps, Sea Hawk has good courage as well,” she remarked. Orenda immediately lowered her head to the ground. She had spoken out of turn; Tall Tree would have been correct to strike her. But the Medicine Man’s arms remained crossed. He looked slowly and contemplatively at Orenda, never changing his expression. Then he turned to Sea Hawk and did the same thing. After a moment of this silence, the Medicine Man spoke.

    “Orenda knows better than to speak when I am in council. Perhaps this is my fault. I took a stranger for a helper, one who I found far from here when she was just a baby. The Spirits told me she would bring good magic to the Makah people. But perhaps I should have chosen a true Makah for a helper. You will not judge me for this, harpooner. Orenda is smarter than most of these arrowheaded women in the village; she sees the ghosts in the forest who speak truth. Both of you follow me now,” he suddenly commanded.

    Tall Tree spun around, walking with a speed that seemed odd for one so big and so old. Orenda followed his path, being careful to leave a respectable distance between them. She had no trouble keeping up with the Medicine Man’s long strides. It was Sea Hawk who found it difficult to follow them. He was still tired from the long day’s hunt, and he was still carrying the cedar box. And he had no idea where he was being led. But he kept up nevertheless, being careful not to lose sight of the pair. The trail led from the beach, leading through a darkly wooded area where the trees stood close together. Several times he thought he would lose them; it was fortunate that his keen eyesight was as good on land as it was on the sea. Finally they reached a clearing. A fireplace was there; the flames seemed to make Tall Tree’s shadow on the red rock behind him many times larger. It gave him the appearance of some gigantic animal.

    But what immediately caught Sea Hawk’s eye was no shadow. It was an object tall and wooden, but not a tree. Sea Hawk found himself staring at the Totem Pole he had so long heard rumored to exist in Tall Tree’s camp. It had apparently been carved from the local cedar trees and it looked ancient. It was embossed with several animal symbols, with various shades of ceremonial paint decorating its surface. There were three ceremonial heads in the pole that were larger and more pronounced than the others. At the base was a decoratively carved raven. It had a curious and mischievous expression upon its features. In the center of the pole was an imaginative carving of a killer whale. This particular beast looked brave and strong, not unlike the one Sea Hawk had killed that very day. But what truly impressed Sea Hawk was the enormous figure at the top of the pole. It had green circular eyes with dark brown pupils. Its golden beak was hooked and its lips were blood red. Its eyebrows were black, as were its cheekbones. Its headfeathers were black and white, balanced and symmetrical. The feathers that extended from its torso were spread out, as if it was ready to fly off and catch its prey. Clearly this was no ordinary bird.

    “That is a thunderbird,” High Tree answered Sea Hawk’s unasked question. “He is a spirit bird with many different powers. But mostly he is an indomitable spirit. When I was a boy, the Medicine Man before me believed the sound of thunder in the sky foretold the coming of war. But over the many years that I have protected the Totem Pole, I have come to understand its real purpose,” the old man leaned a wrinkled hand against the side of the pole. Sea Hawk noticed that he chose to clutch the raven’s head for support.

    “And what is his purpose?” Sea Hawk asked with perplexity. He was in awe of this Totem Pole. The clearing was forbidden ground; only Tall Tree and his helper were allowed to come here. Mysteries seemed to envelop Sea Hawk’s mind like the mists that came from the morning sea waters.

    And then the strangest thing happened. Tall Tree, always so menacing and unsmiling, grinned. It seemed to pain his wrinkled face. He took the hand that had rested against the raven and now used it to point to the top of the pole.

    “Sea Hawk, you will have to become much older to learn the true purpose,” Tall Tree remarked. “But I tell you now, it is a purpose that has taken me long years to understand. It is a noble purpose, one that contains the most powerful magic in the land. And though I honor the bird all my life it never ceases to scare me with its power,” he stated.

    Tall Tree pulled out a long pipe. He filled it with tobacco,and then sat at the fireplace cross-legged. The flames seemed to dance upon his ancient face. As Sea Hawk stared at the Medicine Man, an overwhelming desire to learn more of the thunderbird’s power overcame him. But Sea Hawk was still a little afraid to ask more of the old man. The magical aura that had always surrounded this man seemed even stronger in this dark place. Orenda herself was busy dropping hot stones into a cedar box that lay in front of the fireplace. The box held water; as Orenda took these stones from the fireplace, were they were heated and dropped them into the box, the water inside of it began to boil. She then took some dried fish from another box and carefully placed it into the boiling water. She was cooking a traditional Makah soup. Sea Hawk noticed that she had not offered to cook his whale meat. Once again, the harpooner held out the offering to Tall Tree.

    Suddenly, a dark figure crept out from the shelter of the surrounding trees. This figure was short and squat; he had none of the grace or good looks of his friend Sea Hawk. And he had been listening to the conversation in the clearing for a long time. This figure was Raven, the second-best harpooner in the village.

    As Raven approached the fireplace, Orenda knocked over the box of soup she had been carefully preparing. Sea Hawk was also startled; he sprang to his feet, dropping the box that contained the whale flesh and quickly pulling out his knife. But he relaxed when he saw it was only his friend, Raven. He sat back down at the fire. Only Tall Tree remained motionless. Not even turning his head, he indicated to the young man to come closer to the fireplace.

    “This is good council for whaling,” the old man said stoically. “The two best harpooners in the village have come to gather magic from the Spirits,” he remarked as he took a long drag from his pipe.

    Sea Hawk suddenly noticed that his friend Raven was holding a box. The dark-eyed Raven ignored his friend’s gaze. He turned his attention to the Medicine Man. The squat young man at first averted his eyes from the older man. He had been brought up to fear him as well as his friend. But he gathered his courage now and spoke to him.

    “Great Tall Tree, I am honored that you allow me to visit your medicine place. I have been studying the Totem Pole as well as my friend, here. Why is the raven at the bottom? Why is it so much lower than the thunderbird?” For just a second, the light of the fireplace showed squarely upon Raven’s face. For just a second, his hatred for his fellow whaler showed itself clearly. Orenda observed this sinister glare, directed at Raven’s friend. She placed her own hand over her mouth in shock. But Sea Hawk was too busy staring at Raven’s cedar box to notice this look. He was suddenly very curious about its contents.

    For the second time that day, Tall Tree smiled. But this time the smile was different. There was no kindness in his eyes now. One might have observed a glint of amusement.

    “What makes the Totem Pole strong?” he asked of Raven. “Is it not the base which unceasingly supports the top?” he remarked. As he said this he looked from Raven to Sea Hawk. He nodded his head with an old man’s amusement.

    Sea Hawk couldn’t wait for another moment: his curiosity was strong to know Raven’s purpose in coming to this council. “Raven my brother, what is it you carry there in your box?” he asked the squat man. “Is it a part of the whale that we caught today?”

    Raven turned on Sea Hawk with a sneer upon his face. His eyes were wet and runny, reddened from the smoke of the fire. He spoke with increasing hostility. “Yes…the whale that WE caught. But it was you as always that also caught the glory, wasn’t it my brother?” he spat out the words.

    Sea Hawk was genuinely shocked at Raven’s words and demeanor. Unconsciously he brought his hand to his own knife. He angled his long legs on the ground in a manner in which to be able to leap to his feet if necessary.

    Raven continued. “I especially like the story of the raven supporting the base of the Totem Pole. For I have been that base for too long. And it has become tiresome, watching you on the top of that pole. You always get the best cut of the whale, as well as the best cut of the village women,” he indicated Orenda, who was cleaning her mess at the fireplace.

    Tall Tree now removed his pipe from his mouth. “Say Raven,” he asked with new interest. “What is it that you carry in that box? I know it is not the saddlepiece of the whale; Sea Hawk has already offered me that,” he informed the squat man.

    Raven now smiled. He quickly maneuvered the dirt-caked box in his hand, angling it toward the Medicine Man and pulling out some of its contents.

    “I have been keeping a secret garden for many months,” Raven informed the Medicine Man. “When I wasn’t busy whaling I was growing the most delicious fruits and vegetables in the village. I now offer you these gifts of corn, beans, and squash; three sisters to make you strong and well. I offer these gifts so that you will tell me the secret of the Totem Pole. I know that it contains great magic. I want to gather the knowledge from it that will allow me to become the best harpooner in the village,” Raven spoke excitedly. His short body seemed to have difficulty taking in air after such an exertion.

    Tall Tree suddenly stood up from his place at the fire. Never before had his height seemed so dramatic. He towered over the two young whalers as he regarded them contemptuously.

    “So, I am to choose between the two best harpooners, he declared. “I am to accept one Makah offering and thus refuse the other. Now is the time for truth-telling. The Totem Pole does contain the magic and power of the tribe. Whoever learns the true purpose of the thunderbird will have the magic to become a great chief. No one will stand in his way,” the Medicine Man informed the young men.

    Tall Tree first turned to Sea Hawk. “My young brother, you do offer good magic. The saddlepiece is the most important meat of the whale. And you did show courage in capturing it for the tribe. This is pleasing to the Spirits, for they are animals themselves who know the importance of the flesh,” he said with nodding approval to Sea Hawk.

    Sea Hawk grinned at Raven in triumph. Again he had defeated his rival. Sea Hawk cast a glance at Orenda for approval. But she was not watching the young harpooner anymore. She stood, transfixed at the sight of her master.

    Tall Tree now turned to Raven. The shorter man had been waiting impatiently, scratching the sides of his cedar box with frustration. Tall Tree addressed him. “Raven, you have understood. This is the true knowledge: the animal Spirits eat the flesh. But where does this flesh ultimately come from? It is the great land; that is where the greatest magic is gathered. All real power belongs to the land, and those who respect it. Because you have understood, I now accept your gift,” Tall Tree declared.

    Sea Hawk kicked at the overturned pot at the fireplace in rage. “What is this mischief?!” he shouted. “Raven’s gift has pleased you more? I am the best harpooner! I want the power of the Totem Pole!” he screamed furiously.

    Raven reached for a stone, intending to use it as a weapon. But Sea Hawk was quicker. He jumped upon his former friend, brandishing his mussleshell knife. The two men rolled around in the dirt, each trying to get an advantage. Tall Tree stood in front of the fireplace, his arms crossed, his legs stationary. The Medicine Man’s eyes twinkled with amusement as he smiled for the third time that day. Orenda just stared at her master. Then, Sea Hawk and Raven rolled into the fire. Then, there was nothing but screaming and black smoke. And then darkness.

    At the break of dawn, Orenda stole a sharp blade from the Medicine Man. She used it to chop down the sacred Totem Pole. The only part she took was the representation of the whale. Orenda took this and the secrets of the Makah magic Spirits, never to return to the village. And it would be a very long time before the Makah would capture another whale.