The Eagle's Coup

The Earth moaned in her sleep, a low soul-filled rumbling that woke the birds in roost and filled the night with rumors.  The old man perched high upon the ragged rock canyon wall wondered if anyone else notice.  Probably not, he thought, people now days had their homes and beds far off the ground and no one kept the secrets of the night anymore.  A swift green flash caught his attention and he turned skyward again in search of understanding.  Could this be one of the last signs?  His bones ached and he felt for Mother Earth, she must be hurting too in her old age.  Why, he wondered, when he was called a medicine man and a shaman of his people and he could heal so many of their hurts, was he so afflicted with these aches and pains. Of course, he mused, he had never known a medicine man who wasn’t afflicted with some sort of ailment - perhaps it goes with the job, just to keep us humble.  Or, perhaps we just aren’t paying close enough attention. 

            He marveled at the Aurora Borealis Painting the midnight sky.  The Great Mystery it was called - a great play of spirit lights in the sky far to the North.  Many warriors journeyed for a year to the far North country to bask in the flaming icy lights where spirit touched the ground and settled spiritual healing powers right down into their souls.  Upon returning to their home around the Black Hills, they were said to be forever changed, healed in body, mind and spirit.  But the Great Mystery had never descended this far south before to any great extent - certainly not as strong as this spectacular nightly display.  It covered the nightly news and made for much speculation on the part of the TV scientists everywhere - talk of ozone layers, holes in the veil of Mother Earth, great disasters that it portends, but no one really seemed to know why the great lights journeyed so far south and stayed and stayed.  Could it be they searched for someone as the old legend said?

            The effort of trying to look that far back past the mists of time was a challenge to the old Souix Indian’s heart.  Did he still have the ability to look so far?  His name, Two Owls, endowed him with wisdom, but somehow, he didn’t feel very wise tonight.  He had been a seer his whole life and yet, did he dare to look back into time at his advanced age?  Are life threatening quests only for the young warrior or are there some journeys that only the wisdom of age can undertake?  Never in all his time, his father’s time and as far back as anyone could remember had the earth rumbled so much here in the sacred Black Hills of the Souix.  Never had the Great Mystery come seeking here for so long, so strong night after night.  They were signs.  They must be read.  Mother Earth was trying to speak. The signs must be read for the people who would listen...for the people who were still human, for the people of the Red Road who would understand. 

            The old shaman clutched at the rough woolen blanket that he dragged around his bony shoulders to keep the sharp cold dark for finding him.  He knew what must be done and he knew he must be the one to do it.  Automatically, her reached for his medicine pouch and felt its’ familiar warmth respond to his touch...help from the Great Spirit always warmed him that way.

            A meteorite streaked across the red and green lights and died in ecstasy.  Another sign, an answer to his question - one could slowly and meekly burn out ones’ life in mediocrity or meet ones’ destiny in a flash of glory...in any case, today is always a good day to die.