*****
On High Street, in the middle of the Yale University campus, stood a cold-looking, windowless Greco-Egyptian building with padlocked iron doors. This was the home of Yale’s most famous secret society, Skull and Bones. The medicine man sat across the street from the building and made himself comfortable on the well-manicured lawn. He prepped his prayer pipe and filled it with four pinches of sacred tobacco as he faced each direction and recited his pipe-filling prayer. Finally, he turned toward the north.
Waziya ouye—the north power
Waziya ahtah—the white giant from the north.
Strength, endurance, purity, truth
stand for the north.
The north covers our Mother Earth
with the white blanket of cleansing snow.
The snow prevents many sicknesses
found in places without snow.
After the winter snows,
our Mother Earth wakes refreshed
to bring forth the bounty of springtime.
For us two-legged,
it is the time of long contemplation.
We must think of when we will have
the face of the old.
We will want to look back upon our lifetime
and hope that we stood for the straight road
in our relationship to all things.
It is also a time to do small things,
crafts and creative works,
in order that we may pass through
and enjoy our long winter’s wait.
Courage and endurance—
these strengths we seek
and wish to be blessed with
as we stand here facing north.
(Ancient Lakota pipe filling prayer*)
He ignored the stares from passersby; nothing would deter him from his desired purpose. He began to chant and summon his animal spirit to conquer the cemented walls of the so-called tomb. Slowly, the medicine man began to swoon in deep meditation …
He found himself inside a casket. Looking up, he witnessed a skull and crossbones insignia on the inside lid of the coffin; it seemed to glow in the dark. He closed his eyes and concentrated deeply on the symbol, never allowing his thoughts to be altered. Consciously, he became aware of a room—a small room. Thirteen men of great renown were sitting together around a wooden table. Maps of the world were rolled out as they machinated over the world’s destiny. Eagle Flying Bye spied the skull; it was in the middle of the table, surrounded by four thick, black ceremonial candles, their flames dancing wildly upon his entry.
Geronimo spoke to him. “This is all it took. I am free. I am no longer a prisoner here. They have relinquished hold of my essence. You have freed me from this prison.”
Eagle Flying Bye had infiltrated the white devil’s sacred sanctuary. He looked around; the room was empty. None of those important men were there; they had suddenly dissipated …
He awoke on the grass and checked his watch: it was 7:17 pm on March 22, and the spirit world rejoiced in the return of their great chief.
Magic Words
Glow, glow the magic words you chant
from pen of sacred ink they rant
and all of black returns to white.
In verses of sweet music beat,
beat the magic words replete,
with reversing gloom as shadows retreat
and all the darkness of the night
fades to your utterance of light.
Glow, glow the magic words you chant.
Chapter 9, The gathering of bones
Eagle flying bye, called upon the great spirit of Devil Lake to help him in his quest. An eagle's feather floated softly, ever so lightly at his feet. Wiyohpiyata was one of the four cardinal directions, a mysterious realm, home to spirits like the Winged-One who commanded thunder and lightning. He had to prepare himself; first he would follow the direction of the feather, and took a train to New Mexico, specifically to the Gila River silently lapping the shores of eternity, near a great burial mound. He cleaned a spot on the north side of the great river and brought branches of soft leaves from the Red Ash trees and made for himself a bed. He would begin to gather his strength. He faced the east and pointed his sacred jeweled arrow to the left, to ward off evil. A power animal, the eagle soared high above him, keeping an ever watchful eye over his resting body.
A lone wolf spied the sleeping medicine man, and tucked his paws beneath his chest and lay down at the banks of the great Gila River to keep vigil. Soon it would be daybreak, and Eagle Flying Bye would enter a different realm to find the courage he was seeking.
“Today is a good day to die. I do not fear dying. Neither will I allow this great battle to worry me. It is something for which I have been preparing myself since the days of my youth. For I have known since the time of my birth that my true inheritance in this world would be a death befitting whatever, and whoever, it was that I was called to become. My dream has always been to die a warrior’s death, my life ending by the swiftness of an arrow or a fatal blow from an act of war. And yet, I must admit, a peaceful end would also be a good way to die. Surrounded by those I love within the comfort and warmth of my lodge, listening to the sounds of their grief, while the medicine men sing prayers and anoint my body to help my spirit to climb to that higher plain, is also a good way to die. But to have my life end, knowing that my courageous deeds might change the world for the better, is still the best end that I could wish for. That is why I do not fear my death." (Lakota battle prayer*)
He listened intently as the great warrior spirit of Geronimo beckoned him. "Go East old man.” Eagle Flying Bye immediately realized where he must go to gather up the strength to do battle. He first must receive the blessing of the great warrior Chief. The ancestral home of the Apache having blessed him, he turned his face toward the east coast of Turtle Island, preparing for the hardship that would lie ahead.
On High Street, in the middle of the Yale University campus stood a cold-looking, windowless Greco-Egyptian building with padlocked iron doors. This is the home of Yale's most famous secret society, Skull and Bones. The medicine man sat across the street from the building and made himself comfortable on the well manicured lawn....he prepped his prayer pipe and filled it with four pinches of sacred tobacco, as he faced each direction, and recited his pipe filling prayer, finally he turned toward the north,
“Waziya ouye - the north power
Waziya ahtah - the white giant from the north.
Strength, endurance, purity, truth
Stand for the north.
The north covers our Mother earth,
With the white blanket of cleansing snow.
The snow prevents many sicknesses
Found in places without snow.
After the winter snows
Our Mother Earth wakes refreshed
To bring forth the bounty of springtime.
For us two-legged
It is the time of long contemplation.
We must think of when we will have
the face of the old.
We will want to look back upon our lifetime
and hope that we stood for the straight road
in our relationship to all things.
It is also a time to do small things,
Crafts and creative works,
In order that we may pass through
And enjoy our long winters wait.
Courage and endurance,
These strengths we seek
And wish to be blessed with
As we stand here facing north.”
(Ancient Lakota pipe filling prayer*)
He ignored the stares from passersby.....nothing would deter him from his desired purpose. He began to chant and summon his animal spirit to conquer the cemented walls of the ‘tomb’. Slowly the medicine man began to swoon in deep meditation...he found himself inside of a casket, looking up he witnessed a skull and crossbones insignia on the
inside lid of the coffin, it seemed to glow in the dark. He closed his eyes and concentrated deeply on the symbol, never allowing his thoughts to be altered. Consciously, he became aware of a room. A small room, thirteen men of great renown were sitting together around a wooden table. Maps of the world were rolled out as they machinated over the world's destiny.....Eagle Flying Bye spied the skull, it was in the middle of the table surrounded by four thick black ceremonial candles, their flames dancing wildly upon his entry.
Geronimo spoke to him. "This is all it took. I am free. I am no longer a prisoner here. They have relinquished hold of my essence. You have freed me from this prison."
Eagle Flying Bye had infiltrated the white devil's sacred sanctuary, he looked around, the room was empty, none of those important men were there, they had suddenly dissipated… He awoke on the grass, he checked his watch, it was 7:17 pm, March 22, and the spirit world rejoiced in the return of their great chief.
Magic Words
Glow, glow the magic words you chant
from pen of sacred ink they rant
and all of black returns to white.
In verses of sweet music beat,
beat the magic words replete,
with reversing gloom as shadows retreat
And all the darkness of the night
fades to your utterance of light,
glow, glow the magic words you chant