Part I: The Gathering Storm (1809-1810)
Chapter 7: Firebird
"A wrinkled old woman, Loowitlatkla ("Lady of Fire,") lived in the center of the [Tamanawas Bridge] arch [where burned the only fire in the world, tending the fire. Loowit, as she was called, was so faithful in her task, and so kind to the Indians who came for fire, that she was noticed by the great chief Tyee Sahale. He had a gift he had given to very few others - among them his sons Klickitat and Wyeast - and he decided to offer this gift to Loowit as well. The gift he bestowed on Loowit was eternal life. But Loowit wept, because she did not want to live forever as an old woman.
"Sahale could not take back the gift, but he told Loowit he could grant her one wish. Her wish, to be young and beautiful, was granted, and the fame of her wondrous beauty spread far and wide.
"One day Wyeast came from the land of the Multnomahs in the south to see Loowit. Just as he arrived at Tamanawas Bridge, his brother Klickitat came thundering down from the north. Both brothers fell in love with Loowit, but she could not choose between them. Klickitat and Wyeast had a tremendous fight. They burned villages. Whole forests disappeared in flames.
"Sahale watched all of this fury and became very angry. He frowned. He smote Tamanawas Bridge, and it fell in the river where it still boils in angry protest. He smote the three lovers, too; but, even as he punished them, he loved them. So, where each lover fell, he raised up a mighty mountain. Because Loowit was beautiful her mountain (St. Helens) was a symmetrical cone, dazzling white. Wyeast's mountain (Mount Hood) still lifts his head in pride. Klickitat , for all his rough ways, had a tender heart. As Mount Adams, he bends his head in sorrow, weeping to see the beautiful maiden Loowit wrapped in snow."
ooooo
The warmth of the spring brought the blooms of trillium and rhododendron to interrupt the inexorable green of the forest. The Peoples of the Rivers and Peoples of the Bay left their winter homes and scattered throughout the forests, prairies, and mountains to gather in the rich upcoming harvests. The men returned to hunt and fish while the potlatch houses sat empty, waiting again for the next season of "bad weather" to fill them with festivals again.
News travelled by waterways and spoke of how the rest of the ho-kwat were captured by the Quileute. Those who did not surrender to Yutramaki made a short-lived attempt at an ocean voyage. The canoe hit a rock, overturned them, and the waves tossed them so violently that one drowned. The rest came to shore, seeking to overtake Yutramaki and their other companions, but the Makah contingent had since returned to their home on Neah Bay. With all of their weapons and food stores lost to sea, the ho-kwats wandered the shores for a time before they grew so weak and hungry that they surrendered themselves to the Quileute. The new captives were dispersed between the Makah, Quileute, and Hoh as slaves. Rolling-Thunder's father received both an Aleut man and woman, which he distributed to some of the lesser nobles along the river.
Rolling-Thunder pretended at first that he did not wish to know the fate of Growls-at-Bears. She had chosen her fate. She refused him, the second born son of the chief of the People of the Wolf. He was a warrior and a man garnering the respect of many. Yet she refused him only to accept a slave man who not only failed to protect her, but dared to raise his hand against her. After such a humiliating rejection, why should he be concerned with her welfare? But as his sleepless nights wore into melancholy days, he realized he could not deceive himself for long. He could not rest until he saw her again. Would her answer remain the same as it had so many months earlier, back when the wind blew cold and the ice covered the shallow waters?
He travelled back to the lands of the Makah and sought out his brother-in-law's home again. He found them in their summer home. There were whales to hunt and seals to skin and fish to smoke and dry so no hands sat idle.
Among their number at their longhouses, he saw a ho-kwat man, busily whittling a piece of wood, but the man was a stranger to Rolling-Thunder. It was only after a long evening spent sharing news with his sister that he could inquire into the fate of the ho-kwat woman.
"She's gone," She-Dances answered. "Yutramaki sent her to Orca some months back, farther along the way the sun rises."
"He did what?" Rolling-Thunder asked.
"He gave her to Orca. His eldest son insulted Orca's brother. This settled the debt. Yutramaki had to send his uncle to make the payments, Orca was so furious. Orca swore he would kill my husband on sight for the insults he received," she answered.
"He traded her!" Rolling-Thunder repeated.
"Of course. I do not understand why you are upset," she said, unperturbed and confused as to Rolling-Thunder's dismay at the news.
Rolling-Thunder growled and gristled to himself, like a porcupine rubbed the wrong way. "I only wish to see if she is well," he said, realizing the foolishness of the sentiment only after he had spoken it aloud. His sister was far too clever to mistake his true intent. His sister gave him a knowing look and her laugh bounced off the eaves of the longhouse.
"Oh, my brother. Now it is very clear to me. It is easier to pay for damages to someone who is kin and it will be less convenient to steal her away from Orca. Tell me, there were rumors you tried to take her as wife once before. They said you were not pleased so left her with us. Is this true?"
He grumbled under his breath and shook his head, his embarrassment still burning his cheeks and leaving a bitter taste on his tongue.
She laughed again, rankling him as only a sibling could. "I will not force you to choose between revealing your shame and hoping to deceive me with untruths. It is enough to say that if you stalked a deer with the same skill you pursue a woman, your longhouse would starve."
Rolling-Thunder frowned. His sister gave a light toss of her head, making her long hair shake to her waist and she put one hand lightly on his arm.
"Yutramaki may buy her back next season, once Orca's honor is assuaged and the old man will let our kin near their longhouse again. When we buy her back, I will inform you. Though if I manage to do so without making Father suspicious, you will owe me new shell bangles. I presume Father does not care for the idea of his second son marrying a slave? Oh course, that is why you are here, as last time, pretending to miss your sister so dearly. Do not bother to deny it."
He was about to protest but decided against it.
"I will not deny it," he said. Then, he gave her a moment to revel in her sense of smug victory. "Tell me, how did she fare when she departed here?" he asked.
"She was well enough when she departed here, though her ho-kwat husband wished it were otherwise. We had to separate him from her again and again for the man beat her as if she were an erring dog or his own slave. Yutramaki kept the man with us for some time, but the man cried and wailed so piteously for his wife that he was nearly useless. He begged to be sent to live with his wife and so we sent him after her. We received a good payment of a young girl and some blankets out of it and we were all glad to be done with him. Let Orca deal with the man and give us our peace. You are going there next, aren't you?" she asked, noting the stubborn set of his jaw.
"I will."
"And then you will return here, because you must convince me that you love me and miss me terribly. If you do not, I will tell all to Father the next time I am home," she said.
He knew she was teasing him. He could only groan and then agree.
Oooo
Half a day's canoe journey east on the bay, Rolling-Thunder came to the small village where Orca's clan dwelt. The old man was once a renowned warrior but his hot-headed temper and his even hotter-headed sons' stirred up conflict like his namesake among seals and few enjoyed the man's company other than his close kin. Rolling-Thunder did not wish to be noticed by the man and so did not announce himself. Instead, he grounded his canoe in the woods, hidden to the sight of the village by a hillside and he watched. He was not disappointed. The object of his search walked to-and-fro between the longhouses and the sea, gathering mussels and washing cooking utensils.
She had grown thinner and her face was drawn, but as impassive as ever. Her golden hair was pulled into a neat braid down to her waist. She still wore the moccasins he had given her, though they were nearly worn through. Around her neck, she wore the necklace he had given her as well. Attached to it, hanging down like a pendant, was the wooden painting she carried with her everywhere she went.
He waited until she left the shores to gather firewood. He followed her, then emerged from the shadows of the woods which had, up until now, concealed him. She gave a startled gasp of surprise and then her face broke into an uneasy smile.
"It's you," she managed to say, though he could not tell if that were relief or disgust in her voice.
"No stones or tubers to throw at me today?" he asked. He expected her to laugh or to dismiss him for his impertinence, but she did neither. Instead, her face crumbled and tears fell down her pale cheeks.
He clicked his tongue and approached closer. "What is this? Growls-at-Bears fells beasts and warriors with her bravery. Why these tears?"
"Why are you here?" she asked, quickly rubbing away the traitor tears and replacing her impassive, carved mask upon her face. He motioned toward the bay.
"I hear it is time for the sea lions," he said. "What better reason to come?"
"You did not need to travel this far for sea lions. Orca is not your kin."
"It is true," he answered, abandoning the façade. "I visited She-Dances yesterday and she told me you were here. I wished to know if you were well."
Another stray tear seeped out from behind her mask, but she did not let it remain for long. "Why? What does it matter?" she demanded.
"Must I have a reason? Or must you understand or agree with my reason?" he asked.
She failed to respond or meet his gaze. She collapsed onto a nearby log. "How is your family?" she finally asked.
"All are well."
"I have missed them. I appreciated their kindness towards me."
"You could have stayed. I tried to keep you with us," he said. "But my father would not have it. Neither would you. What could I do against such formidable opponents?"
"How could I agree?" she finally burst out. "I married my husband before God, regardless of what I may wish or want or have chosen for myself. I do not know which is more terrible now - living with him or living apart from him. His jealousy will be the death of me when we are together, but when we are apart, there are too many others that wish to claim me as their own and I have little defense against them. Who am I to fear more?"
"Let me help you," he pleaded. "You wish to return to your homeland? I will ensure you return to the next ship that passes. You wish to stay with your husband? I will acquire you both as my slaves so you may be together. You wish to stay away from your husband, come and stay with Yutramaki or with my family. I will find a way. What is it that you wish for?"
"To live," she answered with her eyes closed and her fists clenched tight on her lap. "I wish to live. I fear that is the one pursuit that will be beyond my grasp."
"No. That is the one pursuit you will thrive at. I see it in your eyes. You are strong and you will live."
She let her suddenly heavy head fall into her hands and she pulled her rain cape off her shoulders to place it on the calloused wood of the log beside her. He could not tell what currents stirred beneath the surface of her mask, but when she opened her eyes, her face was stained with melancholy.
"No one has ever asked me what I wished for," she finally said. "I do not know how to answer. I wish to be home with my mother and father and brothers and sisters. I wish my grandmother could hold her great grandchildren in her arms and tell them stories she told me in my youth. I wish my babes had not been buried but lived and grew. I wish I could eat a full loaf of freshly baked bread with newly creamed butter melting upon it. I wish I could keep the sun shining always upon me as it is today. But this talk is all folly. I can have none of it."
She held her arms out into the shards of sunlight falling upon the log and watched as the pattern of shadows shifted with the breeze. He did not understand many of the words she spoke. He mulled through them, trying to disentangle the tangible from the whimsical like reeds from a fishing net. He did not think all the chiefs and all the wealth of all the rivers could help him to succeed.
"You wish to return to your homeland?" he finally extricated.
She shook her head. "No. It is too far and too costly. To return to my family would be a disgrace to Nikolai so he is unlikely to finance such a journey. To travel onboard a ship alone, without the protection of a male relative, would be foolhardy and even more dangerous than to stay as I am. And if I were to return, what then? My family cannot afford to feed me and clothe me. I would be a burden to them and no other would wish to marry a divorced woman. I would be a shame upon them. No. It is not in my power to return to my home. My home is now with my husband, even if it takes me beyond the oceans to lands in which I have no home. I will never see my family again."
"So you wish to be returned to your husband?" he forced himself to ask.
"No. That is not what I wish."
"Stay with me, then. I can feed you and clothe you and I will not lift my hand against you to harm you. My family would welcome you."
"You wish for an exotic bird to place in a cage of your own," she answered sadly. "What life is that?"
"No, I wish for you as wife, not to cage you but to free you."
"Thus, I return to where I first began. My freedom must be bought by tying myself to a man."
He groaned in frustration. "You prefer to stay as a slave, then? Your choice is to be tossed about from master to master, dependent on their goodwill for your protection? How is that an improvement over being tied to me?"
She fell silent. Her hands fiddled with the end of her braid and she used it to brush the back of her hand. He was about to speak again - to fill the space or lighten her heaviness or bring some semblance of a smile to her face when she spoke first.
"Oh, that I would have been born a man!" she burst out. She surprised him with both her outburst and the way she threw her hands up over her head in exasperation.
"A man?" he asked. "I do not understand."
"Yes. I have done all I could as a woman to save those I care about from harm. If I were a man, perhaps I could have done more."
"The lot of a man is little better. Then you would strive to protect those you love with all your strength, only to watch them being torn from you, knowing it is your weakness that could not save them."
"But then I could have a choice in whether they are torn from me or not! That I might a chance, however small, to protect those I love! Perhaps, my voice could be heard and I might be something other than an adornment to display the glory of a man! Even now, you believe you have the power to fulfill my wishes. You wish to prove your greatness and so leave me indebted to you out of gratitude."
"I did not expect you to…" he interjected, but she did not let him finish.
"No. You expected me to respond with warmth and appreciation and adoration. You wished me to sing your praises and feel myself indebted to you. I do not fault you for it. Nikolai is the same."
"We are not the same," he hissed back through gritted teeth, his anger burning at the comparison.
"Perhaps not. But in this, you are the same. He also desires to gain my fidelity out of obligation and in return for his magnanimous provision, I am to stay blinded to any and all trespasses.
"But you are also correct. You are not the same and I will tell you how you differ. You have already earned my warmth and gratitude and adoration because you, unlike Nikolai, gave me a choice. You have allowed me to speak and you allowed me to refuse you. Not only today but in our day upon the beach. That is the greatest gift I have yet been given. I am where I am now based on my own volition and so now, I am where I am. I do not pretend these are the best of circumstances for me to be in or those I would have formed for myself, but they are mine and I am grateful that for now, and in this, I am free."
"I do not understand," he responded.
"No, I do not expect you to," she mused. "You must go. If my husband finds you here speaking with me, I will bear his anger for months. Orca's wrath would be little better."
She rose to her feet and moved to walk away from him.
"The man does not deserve to have you if he mistreats you in this way," he said angrily.
"Perhaps not," she answered.
"I cannot change your mind?" he asked futilely.
"Perhaps not," she said again.
He nodded. Then he reached out and placed a loose strand of hair behind her ear before leaning in to kiss her softly on the lips. She gasped in surprise, but did not pull away.
"If it would appease you, please strike me with a stone," he answered after. Then he held up a rock for her to take. "It would be well worth it to me."
She took the rock and her face broke into a laugh, a genuine laugh that echoed through her chest and lit up her eyes. It was like that moment on the sea when the sun breaks through the clouds and reveals the myriad of colors that dwell within each shifting, rolling fragment of the restless waves.
"Be gone with you," she told him, more warmly than she had spoken to him before. He obeyed, but not before leaning in to place one more kiss on the top of her head.
"Be well, Growls-at-Bears," he said.
"You as well," she answered.
He left her there in the forest and tried not to look back. He failed.
Oooooo
The days of summer were dwindling away, marking the turning of the season as readily as the reach of the waves marked the changing of the tides on the beach, when Rolling-Thunder saw the ho-kwat woman again. There, amongst three canoes filled with both Makah and Quileute, he discovered the unmistakable face of the woman he most wished to forget...and remember. He gawked in surprise and overturned an entire quiver of arrows when he caught sight of her. Then he ran to the banks of the Quillayute to glean what he could of their intended destination.
She had been traded again. This time to a lesser Quileute noble married to a Makah chief's daughter. Orca had traded her to an uncle who had wished to gain favor with his daughter and sent her the ho-kwat woman as a gift.
"We will harvest hops in the Upper Prairie and hunt deer in the forests along the Calawah River," the noble said to the curious onlookers who gathered to welcome him.
Rolling-Thunder did not wait three days before he followed after in his own canoe. He would hunt deer day and night along the Calawah if it meant he could watch her harvest hops.
oooo
In the darkness of the new moon, as the sky itself was reset, the second son of the chief placed his arrow back in his quiver and slung his bow around his back. The rising glow of Venus above cast out a pale amarillo light over the sleeping forest. Ahead, one beacon of firelight disrupted the shadows, like a whale breaching the unbroken line of the ocean horizon. The moss and ferns barely crackled under his bare feet as he walked away from the Calawah River and towards the source of the invading light.
He knew how to walk without noise when he wished, but he was not quiet enough to avoid detection to the keen ears of the woman upon the entryway of the small hunter's cabin. There, pacing restlessly like a mountain lion caught in a trap, the firelight reflected off her unbound golden hair. Her movements stopped as he neared and she neither smiled nor grimaced as he approached her.
"Rolling-Thunder," she said, as if she had been waiting for him all along.
"Growls-at-Bears," he answered with a cautious smile.
The unspoken words between them crackled like water in hot oil. She stood straight as a young cedar and he approached as cautiously as if she were a rabbit about to run. He hoped his face spoke all the litanies his words failed to speak. Their subsequent staring match would have continued till the morning sun rose, if it wasn't for his curiosity. He sighed and deflated first.
"Where is he?" he asked.
"Nikolai is back with Yumatraki," she said. "I am glad of it."
He shouldn't have asked, shouldn't have hoped that answer, but he still did and he swallowed back the well of hope that now sat uncomfortably in his throat. In one leap, he came up onto the wooden platform around the cabin and he gracefully righted himself. The flames from the open door cast flickering patterns on the meticulously carved wooden figures on the doorway and he almost felt guilty for the trail of muddy footprints that he left in his wake. Quiet voices within the house murmured into rivulets of sound that mimicked the distant rush of the forest river. He settled himself on the floor, his eyes constantly keeping vigil of the darkness beyond, and she resumed her pacing.
He watched the stars as they journeyed across the breach in the canopy of cedars and he pointed towards one group of stars.
"That one is the Bear," he said. "You see the three stars there – those are the hunters who are pursuing the bear."
She stopped pacing to see where he pointed. "In Kodiak, they also called that one a bear."
"There you are," he said, pointing at one of the hunters. "Chasing after the bear."
She laughed quietly. "I hope I have greater success in the heavens. My grandmother said a little dog is chained to that one," she said and pointed to Ursa Minor and Polaris. "If the chain ever breaks, the world will end. The dog is guarded by that star there."
"The Morning and Evening Star," he said and he watched the unblinking, yellow beam of light staring back at them from the darkness of the sky. "It prevents the end of the world?"
"Yes. My grandmother said that one is Zorya, the goddess of dawn. She is the daughter of the Sun. Each morning, she opens the gates of heaven for the dawn and each twilight, she closes the gates behind the sun. Every midnight, she dies. Again and again, she dies with the sun, only to be reborn with the dawn, just as the Firebird does. She is said to be like Mary, the Mother of God, in that way. She is morning, twilight, and midnight. She is a virgin, a mother, and an old woman all at once."
"We say the stars are warriors who are trapped in the sky. Once, there was an arrow road between the earth and the sky. But one day, a star fell in love with the daughter of a chief and took her away to marry her. Her father was angry and tried to get her back. They fought a great war and the humans on the earth killed the humans in the sky. The arrow road broke and that is why the stars are trapped where they are in the sky," he said.
"They have been trapped in the sky for a very long time."
They fell into silence and she resumed her pacing. He shifted his weight around so he faced the door instead of the forest. On her next pass, he caught her hand, but she pulled it away.
"I must go," she said. "They are calling for me. You will be staying here?"
"If you will not send me away, then I will stay."
She nodded. "I would be glad to have you here."
"Tomorrow at nightfall, can I meet you here again?" he asked, a glow of hope bubbling in his chest like the warm waters of a hot spring on a mountainside.
She considered him for a moment before giving him an answering smile. "Yes."
"Promise me you will wait for me, here" he told her. "I will return by nightfall. Swear you will not leave this place until I come."
"I swear it," she said.
She walked through the door, away from him, and she didn't look back. He stayed as he was, still watching the stories in the sky, and dreaming up new stories of his own.
If he had known it was the last he would see of her before her souls departed to the Land of Shadows, he would have followed her through the cabin door.
ooooo
End of Part I
Next up: Part II Cloudburst (1847-1866)
Author's note:
This story will ebb and flow with sad and happy moments. We have come to the end of one part and will be moving into the next. It will not all make sense, but it will eventually…and my final ending will be happy. There will just be a long process to get there.
The Bear and the Hunters-this legend actually comes from the Iroquois, but I really liked it for this chapter so I borrowed it. The story of the Star Husbands is a Quileute legend. The legends of Zorya and the Firebird are Slavic legends. I will expand on these more in future.
The Lady of Fire comes From the Puyallup Tribe of a bit farther south and east of the Olympic Penninsula. This one came from Oregon State University's website on Native American Volcano myths. Thematically, I like it
I realize I am giving Anna way too much credit for language skills and fluency, even with as much immersion she has experienced.
How did Anna die? We don't know. We know she was shipwrecked in November and by August she was dead. She is a tantalizing footnote in history that I really wish had more information on! I have my fictional ending to go along with this story, so you will have to wait for that one.
There are two historical fictions based on Anna Bulygin's life. I have yet to read either.
Anna, Like Thunder: A Novel, by Peggy Herring, 2018.
The Navigator's Wife, by Jane Galer, 2012