THUNDERBIRD AND HIS CUMULONIMBUS

Part I: The Gathering Storm (1809-1810)

Chapter 1: The Potlatch

Then K'wati went on and reached the Quileute land. He saw two wolves. There were no people here. Then K'wati transformed the wolves into people. Then he instructed the people saying: "The common man will have only one wife. Only a chief may have four or eight wives. For this reason you Quileute shall be brave, because you come from wolves," said K'wati. "In every manner you shall be strong."

The Origin of the Tribes

Rolling-Thunder, clung to the whale bone handle of his adze and he drew the blade over his cedar log. The wood shavings littered the sand of the beach as he worked to round out what would become the hull of an ocean canoe. The canoe must go fast and hold water well or it would be of little use in battle. If Rolling-Thunder failed, he would prove a lack of spirit power in canoe-making and he would need to hire a canoe carver more attune with the guardian spirits of the canoe-builders to make him one.

He paused to stare out into the breakers of the grey-green ocean beyond. The charcoal clouds hung heavy with oncoming rainstorms in the distance, prophesying the coming of winter. The Quileute clan that called La Push their winter home were gathering the last of the year's harvest of salmon into their long houses to prepare for the dark, cold days ahead.

For 900 square miles of the Olympic Peninsula, the People of the Wolf fished and built their longhouses along the Pacific Ocean and the Quillayute River up to the flanks of the glacial Mount Olympus. The beaches gave them clams and mussels. The oceans provided seals and whales. The waters were bursting with salmon and halibut. The prairies were rich with ferns and berries. So rich was their land that their people thrived their since long before even the oldest songs were sung. The land itself gave them life and power and taught them how to sing.

To be Quileute was to be brave and to be strong. Their fortified settlement on A-ka-Lat Island protected their people on the mainland and gave their warriors a stronghold for when attacks came, which they always did. The war canoes carved their way through the grey, wild waters of the Pacific to deposit throngs of warriors upon their shores. These warriors of the peoples of strange tongues were hungry for glory and vengeance and acquisitions to use to increase their own wealth at their potlatches.

The Makah, to the north, were renowned for their wealth and battle prowess.. The canoes of the Nootka, Quinault, Queet, and Chinook all ocean waterway. The Hoh, their sister-tribe of Quileute, were the "upside-down people" who were formed by K'wati along the mouth of the Hoh and taught to "fish smelt" the proper way. These peoples were not the People of the Wolf, but they still gave their children in marriage amongst them, held potlatches, and warred against them just the same.

Soon, Rolling-Thunder's canoe would be ready for the open ocean, painted with the symbols of his house, the Wolf, and ready to defend their lands. He delighted in the freedom of the open waters, the speed of the canoe over the waves and rivers. He delighted in the ocean. Their ocean. The birthright of the Quileute. From the sun-filled southern waters of the Hupa to the ice-filled northern shores of the Tlingit, the ocean was their freedom, their strength, their provision, and their protection.

The ocean was also a source of great danger. The ocean both sustained them and threatened them. The ocean brought whales and seals for them to feast on, and it brought tidal waves that threatened to drown them and canoes of enemies who wished to take their bounty for themselves.

When the canoes of other peoples came to their shores, whether invited or not, they never left empty. When other canoes came by invitation of the head of a great family, they came to potlatch. Then the visitors marveled at the might and wealth of their hosts and all they carried home in their canoes was given willingly.

When the canoes came uninvited, they came to raid and take what was not willingly given. They left tears and debts of vengeance in exchange for their full canoes. Foodstuffs and tools, clothing and slaves - all could be taken if the Quileute warriors vigilance slacked or their weapons proved inferior. Their wealth could be torn from their hands and used to build the greatness of another chief, another house, another people. To their shame, future winters would see their own possessions given away as potlatch to build the glory of another.

The canoes of other peoples carried other dangers besides those of raids. In the days of his grandfather, when Rolling-Thunder's father was still young, canoes came bearing gifts from peoples never before traded with. The gifts were marvelous to see, but they paid a great cost for the sickness-with-no-cure came with them. The time of sorrow crashed on them with as much strength as the ocean wave which once covered their lands and flooded their longhouses. So many died, they could not bury the bodies in burial canoes and cast even the bodies of nobles into the forest as fodder for animals, as if they were slaves and not great men.

The Makah, the Hoh, the Quinault - none were spared. Now the eyes of the chiefs looked to rebuild their strength and grow their houses. As long as food remained plentiful, they would bear sons and daughters, and regain their previous strength.

Now their were tales of new canoes from far lands beyond the northern ice and the southern sun. These were slow, cumbersome canoes as large as a longhouse that moved by wind in giant white blankets rather than paddles. The Quileute called these the "ho-kwat," which meant the "white drifting house people."

The Hoh and the Quileute did not know what to make of the first of the two white drifting houses that landed on their shores so they treated them as they would any other war canoe. They attacked their small scouting parties and killed some, lest the white drifting house people question their strength or wish to send their own warriors to raid the people on the shore.

Still, more white drifting houses came. These spoke the clumsy words of the Chinook trade language and wished for animal pelts in exchange for goods the Quileute had never before seen. They wandered and came with knives stronger than stone, weapons that spit fire, and cloth unlike anything they could weave from cedar bark. They willingly gathered furs to trade, but they still kept their bows and arrows and clubs close by, in case the ho-kwat wished to attack (or in case the Quileute gained a good opening to raid and capture their own slaves).

Another white drifting house had been spotted far from their shores. For three days, a terrible storm pounded their village on La Push. Inside their longhouse, their fires kept them warm and their stocks of dried salmon and bags of roe kept them well-fed. When the storm finally passed, the white sails of a drifting house could be seen, wandering on the currents instead of purposefully chasing the wind. For two days, Rolling-Thunder had watched the tiny white shape drift closer and closer until it finally ran aground on a sand bar not far from their beach.

Rolling-Thunder left his canoe on the beach and called to his family to come. Excitement spread through their longhouses like dandelion seeds on the wind. All able adults gathered their weapons and scattered to the forests around the beach, peering cautiously through the breaks in the dense foliage to see the white drifting house and the people it carried. From morning till afternoon, the ho-kwat carried items of great value from their stranded boat. Guns and canvas, knives and axes, beads and gunpowder scattered the beach as the small band set up makeshift tents out of the ship's sails and built fires.

Of the twenty two ho-kwats, seven were Aleut, the peoples of the northern ice long accustomed to hunting the creatures of the cold ocean. The others were from the lands across the ice and used to hunting the creatures of the frozen lands. They were tall, pale as an uncooked duck. They clutched their weapons to their breasts as if they were shields and wary eyes watched as the Quileute crept ever closer to the beach.

Unless the ho-kwat were very great warriors, their numbers were not enough to protect their belongings from the ones on whose land they now trespassed. Both their cargo and the ho-kwats would make valuable gifts at the next potlatch.

Rolling-Thunder's father, the Quileute chief was greeted by a ho-kwat in the clumsy trade tongue of the Chinook. The man welcomed Rolling-Thunder's father into their tent for many words, but the other Quileutes cared little for words and pretenses. The barbaric ho-kwat did not understand how to speak or their ways. The point of a musket was clear enough communication for both groups. The Quileute spoke this language well. Kill or be killed, attack or be attacked, steal or be stolen from. Strength, sharp weapons, and cleverness were what was required and those who failed to take slaves became slaves. As quickly as possible, they claimed as many of the trade goods as they could and fled to the forest.

The ho-kwat shouted and spit fire from their guns to chase off the raiders. The Quileute threw rocks and spears and shot arrows in response. No ho-kwat escaped without injury, but four Quileute warriors lay dead on the beach.

Rolling-Thunder's father was furious. In striking down the People of the Wolf, the Quileute were now honor-bound to take the lives of the same number of ho-kwat in retribution. It was their duty to avenge the deaths of their kin. Even when a death of a family member was caused by illness or disease, the best way to grieve was to make an outsider share their grief. Their warriors mourned with clubs and arrows and gave their sorrow away to other as if grief were a gift to be given.

They scattered to the forest to grieve and regroup and to determine the best way to fulfill their debt to their companions now in the Land of the Dead. The clumsy ho-kwat did not know their way through the forests or over the mountains. They did not know where to gather camas or which clams to dig for on the shores. They had neither canoe nor fish traps to help them eat salmon. They were hungry and afraid and fear makes prey as dangerous as it makes them vulnerable. The ho-kwat abandoned their white drifting house, fled through the forest, and travelled south to the lands belonging to the Hoh.

Oooooo

Rolling-Thunder did not hear of the ho-kwat again until another full moon passed and the winter's dark blanket covered the forest. In their cedar plank longhouses, they stayed warm even in the snow and constant rains. Each family kept their own fire burning to cook their seal meat and give them warmth. Beneath their bear skin blankets, their plank beds along each side of the longhouse kept them warm even on the coldest days.

Six families stayed in their longhouse, all under the leadership of Rolling-Thunder's father, the รก't'cit, or chief. He was the man with the most wealth and so the man who garnered the most respect and authority from their family. His voice, when he spoke, echoed the loudest against the thick cedar walls, without drowning out the many other voices who wished to speak.

Winter was a time of rest and renewal, connection and celebration. It was during the winter that the old year ended and the new began and they welcomed in all those who transitioned from one life stage into the next. Winter was a time for potlatch.

The Quileute of La Push were invited to the village of the Hoh at the mouth of the Hoh River to celebrate the end of mourning for the old chief. It was the chance of the Hoh to show their strength and generosity by giving elaborate gifts to their sometimes allies, sometimes enemies, from just north of their lands. Rolling-Thunder's father would spend years gathering enough wealth to reciprocate with his own potlatch and ensure his position as chief was respected and maintained. If he failed to gather enough wealth to give away, he would lose the respect of both his people and his enemies and, more importantly, the claim of their house to their land and its resources could be dissolved and could be claimed by others.

Wood carvings and tools, bear skins and otter furs, cedar bark skirts and dried fish were all part of the gifts which were carefully gathered and given to guests during the elaborate days of feasts. More valuable than all of the possessions and foodstuffs were the human acquisitions. The slaves, gathered both through trade and war, were gifted and exchanged to pay debts, establish relationships, and display prowess of great men from the coasts of the frigid far north to the peoples of the sun-drenched south. If a chief felt particularly demonstrative or extravagant, he would destroy the gifts he received simply to show he did not require such wealth to be great.

The whale oil burned on the bonfire in the center of the Hoh potlatch house, casting long shadows of the ceremonial masks against the tall, cedar walls. The drum beats pulsed through the steps of each of the dancers as they filled the house with their songs. Whale, Thunderbird, Raven, and Wolf were intricately carved into the wooden masks worn on the heads of the dancers. Only those who inherited the honor of wearing each mask could bear them. Only those who inherited the words of the song and the steps of each dance could perform them. The songs themselves were guarded, owned, and as precious a possession as the honor bestowed upon the head of each house. The Hoh performed their songs in dances in welcome of their guests and in honor of their own guardian spirits, who were proudly carved into the totem poles outside the longhouse.

Rolling-Thunder and his father and his father's father belonged to the Wolf and bore paint on their faces to show their membership in the elite secret society. They were warriors, called to protect their people and increase their strength through the power of the Spirit of the Wolf. When Rolling-Thunder came of age, and the Spirit of the Wolf chose him, he received his own songs to sing, songs that only he knew, song he could pass on to his sons someday.

But this day belonged to their Hoh hosts and it was their time to sing. It was their house that exchanged wealth for honor.

The Quileute knew that at the culmination of this potlatch, they would return to their own longhouses with new slaves to use to perform the most menial of tasks and to use for future potlatch exchanges. It was then, as the slaves were ceremoniously given by the head of the Hoh to Rolling-Thunder's father, that he saw her.

Rolling-Thunder had never seen a ho-kwat woman before. While the other ho-kwats often came with the wives from the Aleut, they never came with women of their own people. Rumors spread it was because they had no women of their own.

She was pale and thin, barely of childbearing age. The woven, cedar bark skirt and rabbit skin cape showed her skin was dotted with scars, the little indents which revealed that her people, too, faced the sickness-without-cure, for all that overcame bore such scars. Her hair was woven out of firelight and it fell down over her rabbit skin cape in rough braids. No paint or tattoos or decorations beautified her skin and her forehead was not flattened like a noble, but rounded like a woman of low status. She neither spoke nor appeared to respond to any greetings from those who spoke to her. Her face showed all the fear of a seal facing a hungry orca and she kept her eyes trained on the dirt floor of the longhouse rather than meet the faces of the many who stared at her as if she were a moss-covered ghost.

Rolling-Thunder stared at her, slightly in fascination and slightly in shock. Was she human as the People of the Wolf or was she something else?

When the feasts and the giving of gifts finally ended and the canoes of the Quileute were loaded till they nearly overflowed, Rolling-Thunder's father turned a well-pleased gleam onto his sons.

"We have received enough gifts that before the winter is over, we will hold a potlatch for the husband of your sister. We will send a messenger to the Makah to prepare them," he said.

OoOOOo

Author's Notes:

Thanks all for your reviews and likes and follows!

Majority of my cultural and historical references for the next few chapters come from the following sources:

The Wreck of the Sv. Nikolai, by Kenneth N. Owens and Alton S. Donnelly, Western Imprints, 1985

The Quileute of La Push: 1775-1945, by George A. Pettitt, University of California Press, 1950.

"The Origin of the Tribes" comes from Quileute Texts by Manuel J. Andrade, 1931, Columbia University Press.

All mistakes are mine! I am trying to keep things accurate, but there's a lot to learn and a lot of gaps I have to work around!

I am, mostly, not going to use indigenous place names because it will get hard to keep track of names as eras progress. I may make a few exceptions. I will, however, change the names of my main characters each part. ;)