The Arrow Keeper’s Song Read Free Page A

head, and he strained to identify the sound, concentrating intently until it came to him. He was listening to his own breathing, each and every breath made resonant, yet for his ears alone. No sight, no sound, save for his hammering heart that seemed to increase in volume. Didn’t they hear? Why couldn’t they hear?
    Tom shook his head and wiped a hand across his face to clear his vision. The Arrows were not for him. He had glimpsed the future and wanted to be a part of it. He wanted to be more than a reservation Indian. These beliefs and rituals were echoes of the old ways and would only hold him back. He tried to speak but his mouth had gone dry. He swallowed and tried again, this time managing a hoarse reply.
    â€œI cannot.”
    Coby looked stunned and retreated a step. “What?”
    Tom met the gaze of each of the elders, looking from one to the other as he repeated himself. “I cannot.”
    â€œBut the All-Father has spoken …,” Coby began.
    â€œHe has not spoken to me,” Tom replied. He had to be careful now, for he had no desire to offend anyone. “I must follow a different path.” The faces in the crowd were a blur as he walked from the circle of light and followed in the footsteps of his father into the night air.
    Tom paused to allow his vision to adjust and, breathing a sigh of relief, started toward his dun gelding. He spied Seth Sandcrane waiting for him by the tethered horses and dreaded what was to come.
    Made a widower while Tom was still a toddler, Seth had raised the boy to manhood, unaided and alone. Tom knew he owed this man more than he could ever repay. Hurting his father was the last thing in the world Tom Sandcrane wished to do, but there seemed no way to avoid it. As he drew closer to the dishonored Arrow Keeper, Tom held up his hands to show they were empty. Seth’s elation dimmed when he realized his son did not cradle the bundle in the crook of his arm. He frowned and his expression became puzzled.
    â€œTom …?”
    â€œNow I know why you insisted I attend this … this ceremony. You are a wily old fox, Seth, but it didn’t work. I’m sorry.”
    A horned owl whooshed across the night sky. It glided from the tangle of live oaks and dropped onto a small rodent attempting to cross the clearing. With the bird’s prey screeching in its cruel black talons, the owl lifted from the earth on great gray wings and rose to the safety of the treetops, where it nested in the cleft of a towering white oak and proceeded to feed.
    â€œCoby said he would offer the Arrows to my son.”
    â€œHe spoke straight, father,” Tom said. “But I could not take them.”
    â€œWhat?” Seth staggered back as if struck. “No!”
    â€œI’m sorry. But the Arrows should be kept by someone who will follow the old ways … and the prayers and songs.”
    â€œBut the spirit songs … I taught them to you.”
    â€œThey are the echoes of the past,” said Tom. “The days of the buffalo are gone. It is time to learn new ways.” He placed his hand on his father’s arm. “We must learn or we will die.”
    â€œI think you are already dead,” said Seth, his voice heavy with resentment. Now the Sacred Arrows were indeed lost to him. He would never have the power again, never sing the songs of renewal or summon the Maiyun with a single prayer. As my son has failed me, so I have failed all who have gone be fore , he bitterly reflected. Cut to the quick by Tom’s betrayal, Seth Sandcrane pulled away from his son. His gaze hardened until it became an impenetrable mask without a trace of paternal familiarity. He slowly turned on his heels and, with shoulders bowed by the weight of his despair, walked off through the darkness, following a trail that skirted the hill and the ceremonial lodge.
    â€œFather … ne-ho !” Tom called out, his breath clouding the air. But the stand of