Deganawidah

Deep in the thick woods of ash and mulberry trees, several miles inland from the O-Y-O (the
Great River), sat Lalawitheka (he makes noise) with his son, Deganawidah (two rivers running).
Deganawidah was born where the O-Y-O meets the Spaylaywthiipi, hence his name. They sat under the
canopy of leaves and Lalawitheka stared at his son. The father had a long pony tail and a scar ran down
the right side of his deep, red face. He wore a necklace with claws and animal teeth, and his vest and
leggins were covered in patterns of purple and brown beads. Deganawidah wore a breech cloth made
of deerskin, and he wore a white and brown beaded headband. He was skinny, and his eyes were set
back in his face, shining like the sun’s first rays above the horizon.

“My son, you were born many snows ago, and I have patiently waited for you to grow into a
young man, and for this one day to be upon us. On the very day you were born, I came down to the
shore of the O-Y-O to start the morning fire to cook venison for your mother Orenda (magic power),
who would soon give birth to thee. I looked out across the grand waters of the O-Y-O, and there were
two stars and a rising sun. Orenda carefully walked down to me, and said to look at the sky, at the two
stars and the rising sun. I blew for flame as she stood there with thee in her heavy womb.

You, Deganawidah, were the sun, and your mother and I were the stars. And one day, this very
day today we are now upon, you would start your vision quest, and become a man. Do you understand
me, Deganawidah?”

“Father, oh great Father, elder of our people, today I am a boy. When thou would next see me, I
shall be a man. I will find my place in the shallow waters of the O-Y-O far from here, and await my vision.
No matter how long it may take, I will wait. The sun will be my messenger, the moon will stare down
upon me, the O-Y-O will cleanse and heal me.”

Lalawitheka cried through every inch of his body, yet not through his eyes. “Thou hast made me
proud, my son. Thou will walk through these woods and find your very own place in the shallow waters
of the O-Y-O, and you will be filled the courage of many eagles. Behind thee, in the tops of the trees, the
Great Spirit will guide thee, beating His Sacred Drum steady, slowly, in a cadence only thou can hear.
Steady slowly. Steady slowly.”

Deganawidah

Lalawitheka put his calloused hands on his son’s shoulders. Deganawidah stood firm and looked
at his father’s face. “I will come back a man, my father. You shall see. I will honor thee with my presence
when I return to thee, and my beloved mother Orenda.” And with that, Deganawidah walked away into
the brush and the woods, never looking back, towards the O-Y-O, then not towards it, over the smooth
roots of the sycamores, under the dark shades of the enormous oaks and tall buckeyes.

Deganawidah thought of his youth as he walked. He heard the squirrels in the branches above
flick their tails at him, and he heard the songs of the cardinals and sparrows. He remembered sitting
with his mother many times, while his father went to fight battles against other Indian tribes, and
wondering if this would be the time his father would not return. He thought of the hunting parties
returning with deer and wild turkey. He thought of the winters, and the cold winds, and the patches of
ice on the O-Y-O. He thought of the drumbeats when the elders danced around the Council Fire.
Lalawitheka loved his mother and father deeply, and was proud of his father who was filled with
courage and wisdom.

Now it was his turn. He would find his very own place, far away from his people, and be
submerged in the O-Y-O, in the clear waters by the shore. It was almost dark now, and Deganawidah
found a grove of white pines on the top of a small knoll. He sat on the brown needles under these trees,
and rested his back on one of the trunks. He felt the pangs of hunger and prayed to the Great Spirit:

When all the land sleeps the night, and our brothers and sisters are done for the day, and
everything is quiet but the Great Owl in the woods, or the Beaver splashing their tails in the Grand
Waters of the O-Y-O, You, oh Great Spirit, are silently creeping amongst us, moving from place to place,
on the ground and in the trees, preparing for us, and what will happen when the sun next rises. We will
wake, and You, oh Great Spirit, will take us to that place only You know of.

When Deganawidah awoke, the sun was night quite shining, but it was just light enough to see.
His hunger made him dizzy, but he knew that this was all part of his vision quest, and now he walked
straight to the O-Y-O. He walked through the brambles and vines and saw glimpses of the majestic
waters through the leaves. “I am here,” he thought. “soon I will sit in the soothing waters of the O-Y-O,
and wait to become a man.”

Lalawethika

The shore of the river was sandy where he emerged out of the woods, and he took off his
breech cloth, and submerged himself in the waters there, and drank from his cupped hands. He looked
across to the other side, and there were more brambles, then trees, then hills, then the clear sky, and to
the east, the rising sun. This was his spot, the very spot in the cleansing waters of the O-Y-O that he
would attain his vision, and become a man. He did not know when it would come to him, but it would,
as it did to all the fathers and grandfathers before. Soon he would be a man, ready for battle, ready for
the hunting parties, ready for Orenda and Deganawidah to beam with pride in their son, now a man.

You, oh Great Spirit, are silently creeping amongst us.

Lalawitheka now lay prone on the sandy bottom of the O-Y-O, with his face just above the slow,
steady current, as the tiny waves hit the beach behind him. He felt more dizzy, and shut his eyes. His
mind now wandered between his current presence in the O-Y-O, to flashbacks of his youth. He saw the
river, then the flame his mother blew on each morning for the cooking fire. Current, river, flame no
flame, smoke, no smoke, river, no river.

He was dreaming now, and he knew it, and he fought with himself to be back in the body
submerged in the warm and shallow waters of the O-Y-O. He was a baby, and he was crying, and Orenda
slowly rubbed his back and legs, soothing him. There were trees and limbs falling in a huge summer
storm, and he felt the wind upon his face. He dreamed that he was swimming in the dark on the O-Y-O
toward a flickering light in the middle of a small island. He crept through the trees and came upon his
father Dagandawidah, dancing around the fire, face painted, who then lifted off the ground into the
trees, like a robin.

Lalawitheka opened his eyes to the real world, so he thought. He was flying above himself laying
in the waters of the O-Y-O, soaring with his arms out, higher and higher over himself. There were woods
and streams, and the bright reflection of the sun upon the river. Then it turned to night, then to stars,
then the deep blackness of the forest surrounding him. He faintly heard the beating of the Sacred Drum
of the Great Spirit, beating steady, slowly; steady, slowly.

By now it was late afternoon. His hunger was overtaking him, and he was weak. The shoreline
on the other side began to vibrate, unless he closed one eye. He thought way back in the very dark ends
of his mind, that he would soon see his vision, and that he would be a man.

Lalawethika

Take me to that place, oh Great Spirit. Take me to that place only You know of.

Suddenly, across the waters of the O-Y-O, in a clear spot half way up one of the hills,
Lalawitheka saw a human form, dressed in brown pants and a red shirt, and a black cap which went high
above the head. He was white skinned, and Lalawitheka shook his head and splashed water on his face.
The white man then took what looked to be a large branch to his face, then a flash of fire came out of
the end, then the retort came to Lalawitheka, and it was a loud bang, and Lalawitheka was afraid. He
kept blinking his eyes. This had to be his vision! It was a white man with a branch that shoots fire from
the end and makes the noise of many Council drums.

The white man on the other side disappeared and Lalawitheka rose and walked out of the O-Y-
O, and put his breech cloth on, and began the trip back to his tribe, back to his mother and proud father,
and now he would be the man he so wanted to be after his vision quest. He would now sit with the
elders and smoke their holy pipe with them. He would tell his father about the white man, and the
branch, and the fire and the bang.

He thought about this as he walked and walked, keeping the river within his sight to his right. He
was more lightheaded and hungry than ever, but he trod on through the sycamores on the shore, and
now the smooth roots were moving like white snakes.

Lalawitheka became more and more confused as he walked toward his village, and his mother
and father. The cardinals and the sparrows stared down at him, and the squirrels floated down out of
the ash and buckeye trees. It was his father Dagandawidah dancing around the Council fire with a
painted face. Lalawitheka was back in the river, white man, no white man, branch with fire, no branch,
bang, no bang. He heard the Sacred Drum of the Great Spirit beating steady, slowly, in a cadence meant
only for him.

Lalawitheka smelled the smoke of the campfires from his village now, and he knew he would see
his father soon, and his father would be proud of him. Then Lalawitheka saw his father gazing through
the trees for the return of his son, his son now a man.

You, oh Great Spirit, are silently creeping amongst us, moving from place to place, on the ground
and in the trees, preparing for us, and what will happen when the sun next rises.