The Spirit Path Read Free Page A

Hawk entered the sweat lodge. Heart-of-the-Wolf’s nephew, Black Otter, remained outside to tend the fire and pass the heated stones into the lodge.
    Shadow Hawk took a deep breath and released it slowly as Black Otter passed in the first four stones, lifting them with a forked stick.
    With great ceremony, Heart-of-the-Wolf took the pipe and touched the stem to one of the stones. “All four-footed creatures,” the medicine man murmured reverently, for his power came from the wolf.
    He passed the pipe to Shadow Hawk, who puffed it four times and passed it back to the medicine man.
    This was done four times, until the tobacco was gone, and then Heart-of-the-Wolf reverently returned the pipe to the hanbelachia . Pipes were smoked to prevent storms, to ensure a successful hunt, to invoke the blessings of the gods, or to denote peace and friendship. They were considered sacred, their smoke carrying the prayers of the people to Wakán Tanka , and thus they were handled with great care and respect.
    “All four-footed creatures,” Heart-of-the-Wolf intoned solemnly, and taking up a spoon made of buffalo horn, he tossed cold water on the stones.
    He did this four times, as four was a sacred number. There were four directions to the earth, four elements above the earth—sky, sun, moon and stars. There were four seasons to the year. There were four classes of animals—flying, crawling, two-legged and four-legged. There were four parts to plants—roots, stem, leaves and fruit. And, finally, a man’s life was divided into four parts—infancy, childhood, adulthood and old age.
    As great clouds of steam filled the lodge, Heart-of-the-Wolf began to chant, begging the spirits to purify them.
    Shadow Hawk gasped for air as the heat engulfed him. The cold water and the hot stones united him with the earth and the sky, the water of life and the sacred breath of the Spirit. As he inhaled the steam, he inhaled the water of life, praying for strength, for courage, for wisdom.
    And suddenly she was there, the woman of his vision, her curly black hair falling about her shoulders like a dark cloud. Her lips were the color of ripe berries; her eyes, as blue as the wildflowers that covered the hills in the summer, were filled with tears.
    She was sitting in an odd-looking box with big wheels like those on the wagons of the bluecoats. Behind her, Shadow Hawk could see a drawing of a tall Indian man sitting astride a big calico horse. The Indian wore a necklace of bear claws; the horse looked exactly like Ohitika. Despite the stifling heat within the lodge, Shadow Hawk felt a sudden chill spiral down his spine.
    “Do you see her, old one?” he whispered, hardly daring to speak aloud for fear of chasing the image away.
    Heart-of-the-Wolf grunted softly, astonished by the clarity of the vision, troubled by the Spirit Woman’s ability to manifest herself to Shadow Hawk within the sacred circle of the sweat lodge, and even more alarmed that he was able to see another’s vision. What manner of white woman was this, to have such power?
    Heart-of-the-Wolf leaned forward, his gaze focused on the drawing behind the woman. No, he thought, it could not be Shadow Hawk…
    “You must put her from your mind,” the medicine man said sternly. “You must think only of the cave, and the vision that waits for you there.”
    Shadow Hawk nodded. “I hear you, Tunkasila ,” he murmured.
    As soon as he spoke, the image of the Spirit Woman began to dissolve until all that remained was the memory of the unhappiness he had seen in her eyes.

Chapter Five
     
    Shadow Hawk reached the entrance to the Cave of the Spirit Path as the sun began its descent behind the distant mountains. His heart was pounding like a Lakota war drum as he took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly.
    The cave was located on a narrow plateau near the crest of the hill, surrounded by trees whose branches were woven so tightly together they blocked his view of the sky, leaving the face of the