- english Version -
The Path of Dreaming
(Buffalo Rolling
Thunder)
The sign
Once upon
the time, there was a little boy, who was living with his parents, his
brothers and sisters and the rest of his tribe in a small camp,
somewhere in the middle of endless prairie in a country, we call in our
days the United States of America.
The place was situated in a wide
valley next to a busy floating river. Far in the distance, the huge
rocks of the Holy Mountains grew up and every evening, when the sun
finished her daily walk along the sky with all sorts of red colors, the
boy got an idea, why this mountains were called, the Red Mountains.
In these days, the little boy had no proper name yet. He grew up, and as
all the other boys in village, uncle "Crow - Wing" showed to him,
outside the circle of the wigwams, how to use the bow and the arrow, how
to make fire and to read all the trails of the animals who were living
around. And of course, on sunny days, the boy went with his friends down
to the river for swimming and fishing. In the evening, he often was
siting by the fire, and in the darkness he was listening to the stories,
his grandfather "Eagle White Cloud" was telling. In this tribe,
grandfather "Eagle White Cloud" was a very respected person. He knew all
about the sacred herbs and flowers, that could help people in case of
injury, sickness or fever. By reading the drift of the clouds he could
tell about the weather and he knew all about the holy ceremonies that
are necessary to get in contact with all sacred ones of the different
worlds. People came to him, to tell him about their dreams and
to ask him for advice. "Your
dreams", the grandfather once said to the boy, "they can tell you all
about the invisible paths all beings are walking on. Your dreams will
show you the ways through all the different worlds, the worlds where
everything came from and where everything is going to. They are a real
present to all the people and it is good to know your dreams and to
honor them. The boy of course had dreamed very often yet. For each
dream he remembered, he had found words, for telling the grandfather.
Then, the old man was sitting there, listening to the words of his
grandson. Seeing his closed eyes, one could think he was sleeping, but
from time to time by nodding his head with grumbling noise he was
showing, that he attended the telling of the boy quite mindful. Some
times ago he had told to him: "Soon there will be given a sign to you,
because you have reached the point and now it is the right time to go
out into the world, to find your dream, the dream of your life". The
Great Dream, the boy knew what that meant. This dream was something
special, different to all the other dreams he dreamt before. It was
more, than getting in touch with pictures during the night, which on
could remember in the dawn of the next morning. To dream the
Great Dream, that meant to leave the village, to go out into the
wilderness, to find his way, up to the loneliness of the mountains, so
far away. Walking the holy path, as his grandfather did, his father,
all his uncles and all the other man, as long as the memories of history
of the tribe reached back into the past. Out in the solitude, there
he would start to sing the chants and dance the dances in pure beauty
and holiness, as grandfather had told him. He would go on and on with
dancing, until in the middle of the beat of the invisible drum the
Katchina of his dreams would appear and speak to him.
Nobody could predict, what finally would happen, every dancer kept this
secret by himself, the whole life long. Once he had found the
way to his Sacred Dream, he would be allowed to leave the Holy
Mountains. After all, the little boy would remain up there, and a young
worrier would return into the village, carrying his own name know.
One morning, the boy was waking up, stretching himself, like a young
tree whose branches are reaching out for the sun. It was the same like
every morning, he found it so hard to leave the warm and cozy hole which
he built during the night under his warm blanket. In front of the wigwam
he heard the soft singing of his mother. His brothers and sisters were
still sleeping. He looked into the face of his younger brother, which
was half covered by the brown blanket made smooth and cozy fur. In the
middle of the wigwam, the mother had already set alight a small fire,
the white smoke found his way up to the opening in the top of the tent.
As he got up, the smoke prickled in his nose, so he had to sneeze. When
he gathered the branches yesterday, he obviously got some, which were
not completely dry. In this way it was all right, that his father wasn’t
around, probably he would have wrinkled his forehead in a rather
reproaching way. But the father, accompanied by some other
warriors of the tribe, was out in the prairie during the night. They
were following the buffaloes, one of the man had discovered in grassy
plains next to the mountains. If the men would succeed to shoot one
ore two of these mighty animals, there would be enough to eat for the
next time, the pans on the fires would be filled up very well. The other
meat the women surely would dry to store it for the scanty time during
the winter. During the last
time, the kindly smile on his mother’s face was disappeared. The first
storm of the autumn was blowing already over the plains and before the
first snow was fallen, there should by a good supply of food for the
long journey to the winter - camp. The boy just was putting on his
shirt when he stopped amazingly. On his leggings he discovered a brown
feather, he realized the pattern, it was the feather of an owl. How it
could happen that this feather came into the tent? Who put it at this
place? He was scared for a moment, then he finished clothing, took the
feather and ran to his grandfather’s tent.
Grandfather
Reaching the place
rather excited, he was just starting to shout for the grandfather, when
he hold back himself, remembering that it was necessary to meet the
grandfather in a respectful way. So he beat carefully against the fur
that closed the entrance of the tent calling his grandfather with a
gentile voice. But there was no reply out of the tent and the boy felt
himself rather confused. The feather of an owl, that must be an
important sign of course. Now he needed grandfather’s advice, where
was grandfather, where he had gone? The boy went up and down restlessly.
„The
heat of the young warrior is burning, full of impatience“, he heard
telling the voice of his uncle „Hawk Fast Flight“, „grandfather went
down to the river before sunrise. You will have to tame the fire in your
heard, being patient and waiting for his return“. The uncle
was right, grandfather was ridden down to the river to dance the
ceremony of sunrise, nobody was allowed to disturb him. If the hunters
out in the prairie would be successful it was depending on, if the old
man would be able, to connect in this holy ceremony the energies of
Mother Earth with those of Grandfather Sun.
So he squatted down in front of the tent, waiting for grandfather. He
wasn’t sure, if he fell asleep once again, but when he realized the
voice of the old man, he felt himself wide-awake. Jumping up he was
facing the respectful appearance him. His long white hair was falling
down to his shoulders framing his serious but still friendly looking
face. Before the boy could even say one word the old man spoke
to him: „The Great Holy Spirit has rewarded the patience of my little
brother. As I can see, you are prepared for to walk the Sacred Path of
Your Dreams. He took the
feather of the owl, which the boy handed over to him. „When
the sun is touching the top of the mountains this evening, the moon will
have reached his full dimension“, he said. Then the ceremony of cleaning
will start and therefor there will be prepared a sweat lodge for you. In
the shine of the full-moon there will be the farewell to the time of
your childhood. At the next morning, when the day is dawning, the new
way of yourself will start. Grandfather looked at him
seriously, but for one moment there was an encouraging twinkle in his
eyes. The boy gave thanks to
the old man and went over to the tent to prepare himself for the
ceremony. He tried to hid his excitement and when he met his little
sister he tried to show a face quite stately, pretending he didn’t
realize her.
Sacred Dance
Before the sun came up next morning, the boy already had
crossed the river and was walking towards the mountains. Even he didn’t
sleep at all during that night he felt himself strong and powerful. The
grass was still covered with wet dew and while he was breathing in the
clear and fresh air of this morning, he concentrated his attention to
everything that happened around him. The rustling of the small animals,
which were running away, when they realized him, the stately movement of
the eagle’s flight, so far away in the blue of the sky and of course he
noticed tracks of the buffaloes, crossing his path. But
finally the mountain range in front of him more and more caught his
eyes. The mountains where lightened by light shining different shades of
red colors of the rising sun. While the sun came up, going upwards
higher and higher, he felt the warm rays on his back. And while she went
up more and more, the colors of the rocks changed from the light red of
the early morning to quite different shades of orange in the later
morning. Finally there were to be seen all kinds of different yellow
when the sun reached her highest point at noon. The heat of the
burning sun made his walking more and more difficult. So he looked out
for a shady place. But there was no tree and no bush and not even a rock
that could spend to him some shade. He realized his dry throat, but he
knew it was not yet the time to drink. He was not sure if he would find
any water up there in the mountains. Feeling so exhausted now he
stood still for a moment and looked around when he discovered a cactus
not far away. He felt very glad about that, because he was told by his
father about the special kind of leaves of this plant. Even they were
looking so dry and prickly there was a well tasting juice inside the
leaves which could satisfy his thirst. He was glad to remember his
father’s advice, and while he was pulling the knife out of his belt he
started to ran over to the plant.
But suddenly he stopped like he was totally paralyzed, he was so
frightened that it seemed his hard stood still. Just in front
of him he heard the imminently noise of a rattle snake. He stopped
breathing, knowing if he would make one wrong movement, he would be
lost. The bite of this snake would bring him his death. He felt the
vibration of his tautly muscles, so he forced himself to calm down.
Feeling his knife in his right hand, he started breathing again, very
slowly, without any movement. He looked at the animal, he was talking to
her in his mind, apologizing. He concentrated his look on a place
underneath of her head. And then, everything happened very quickly, like
a brightening flash the shining metal whistled through the air. While he
jumped backwards the body of the snake was shaking a few times, fell
down at the place where he stood just a few seconds ago. He looked down
to his feet at the dead animal’s back and the pattern on the skin
reminded him of the carvings on his grandfather’s sacred pipe.
Like waking up from a dream, he suddenly realized the very painful
thirst. He cut some of the leaves from the cactus hastily and started to
suck the sour juice out of them. Finally he went on, the path
went upwards and became more and more stony. He heard himself gasping
for breath and it seemed that the wind, storming through the ravines was
answering him. He hardly
realized, that the sun went down already and an innumerable amount of
stars were sparkling at the black firmament. He was on his way the whole
day now, felt so tired and the great wish, just laying down and falling
asleep. But in the same time he was sure, that he hadn’t reached yet the
final goal of his journey. Suddenly the landscape changed. He had
left the mountains behind him and had reached a wide grassy plain. The
wind was blowing could at night and he was shivering, he felt pulsating
his blood in his veins in a wild rhythm. After had gone his further for
a while, he arrived at a small dale and in the middle of this place
there was standing a very old tree. It looked like that he was waving
with his branches. Then the boy knew, that he had found the sacred
place, he was looking for.
He was so exhausted now, that he would prefer to lay down under
the tree to fall asleep. But his actual task was still waiting for him
and there wasn’t the time yet to rest. So he started collecting about
twenty stones and put them in a circle attentively to form the sacred
medicine wheel. Finally he stood in the middle of the circle, he felt
himself safe and secure and all his tiredness had gone now.
First he started to move very slowly, while he was going on, his
movements became more and more attentive, until he was finally dancing
the sacred dance, his grandfather had told him. He hadn’t to think
neither for the movements nor for the word of the holy chanting. He
wasn’t singing and dancing like doing a task, but the song and the
dance, that was himself, being in contact with all the energy, which was
surrounding him.
The Vision
All of a sudden far from the distance he heard his
grandfathers voice, the hoarse singing, accompanied by the mystery beat
of the drum. So the boy continued to dance, until he was covered by the
light of the white disc of the moon and it seemed that the silver rays
would carry him away. He continued dancing for a long time,
when he heard quite unexpectedly the sound of flowing water and he found
himself standing in the middle of a small river. At first he was rather
surprised and when he looked around, he was frightened. Just beside
him he recognized the silhouette of somebody standing in the shadow of
the darkness and in the bitch-black night there was a mysterious
brilliance, sending a message he was not really understanding yet.
But then, he got an idea, „the katchina of the dreams“, he said to
himself. „Yes,
I am one of the katchinas of your dreams „Look“,
the katchina said and pointed to the floating water down to his feet,
„This
is the river of your life“ pointing in one direction he said, „that’s
where you came from“. The boy turned his head and in the
distance he realized another katchina. „He
is guarding the drams of your past“,
the katchina in front of him said. „And
there the river of your life is floating,“ he told him , pointing in the
other direction, „there you see the katchina waiting who is watching
over the dreams of your future".
And after a little pause he continued: „When
ever you call for us in your dreams, we will be with you, ready for
accompanying you".
There was a gentile
sound and the picture of the katchina faded like a cloud in a
windy
summer morning. For a moment, there was a complete silence, and
feeling himself surrounded by the deep black of a total darkness he was
connected with the whole universe. Far from the distance there
appeared a sound, at the first very smooth and gentile, then it grew up,
became louder and rhythmic and soon it sounded like the powerful beat of
innumerable huge drums. The sound became louder and louder, the ground
was shaking and it seemed that there was a rolling thunder in the air.
The air was trembling, making the boy frightened. „The
buffalo“, Like a flash of inspiration came the thought into his mind. He
knew quite well, that there wasn’t any chance to stop the buffalo’s wild
run. Not so far in the distance he saw already the first
animals galloping towards him. He could already recognize their powerful
bodies, their lowered heads with the long bent horns. It was such an
exiting picture, the boy couldn’t move at all and he was starring at the
animals completely paralyzed. And then he realized just in the
middle of the dust cloud the silhouette of a white buffalo. This animal
ran much faster than the others and was galloping just towards him.
At the first moment he was totally scared, but then he remembered the
word the katchina had told him, and with a loud shout he cried for help.
Like stopped by an invisible hand the powerful animal come to
a standstill just in front of the boy. They looked into each other eyes,
the boy stretched out his left hand and touched the forehead of the
white buffalo, very calm and without any fear. At the same moment a
great power was floating through his whole body and when he looked
around all the wild buffalo where grazing around him quite peacefully.
„Buffalo
Rolling Thunder“, said an invisible Voice, „your name is Buffalo Rolling
Thunder.“ Subsequently he cried out a tremendous shout and on the
back of the buffalo the massage was carried into the whole land.
And all over the country it was known, his name is: „Buffalo
Rolling Thunder“
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