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The Legend of Wesoomi:
Three, The Bandar Raiders:
March 18, 2002:
In the village of the Husbandmen, it was the eve before festival
day. The harvest had been gather in plenty and stored in the
storehouses and bins. Meat and fish had been cured and stored
too. There would be no want in the village as winter approached.
It was a good time for celebration. All was prepared.
Snowflower had been with the seven other maidens in the lodge
of passage. She had been intensely instructed and initiated.
Some of the spiritual rites had surprised her. Until then she
had little understanding of the wonder and generosity of the
Great Spirit. Now she knew and she knew her duty to the him and
to the earth in her care. She was to become the living embodiment
of the Earth Mother; the Great Spirit's vessel of life.
She also knew her duty to her community, her mate to be, and
her cubs. She had also been surprised at the introduction to
her own body and its ability to respond. It was not that she
had never noticed or toyed with her femaleness. She had indeed
learned from her sisters in secret games, but this was a different
level. It was the intensity of it which engulfed her, along with
the equally intensity of the instructions. She understood now
that there was duty involved.
Now she could look forward with wonder to her husband to be.
She felt sure in her spirit and her body. She had only to wonder
who her father would select. That must wait until after the festival.
Now with the others, they awaited the arrival of her father.
The rite of passage was complete. It awaited only the songs of
praise to the great Spirit, to be conducted by her father.
Finally, he came through the door. The maidens were seated in
a circle on the floor. They were clothed in soft doeskin about
their hips and legs. Their torsos were bare and glistened with
the perfumed oils of the sacred rite. Silent Stalker sat at one
side of the circle where a place had been left for him. He spoke
not to the maidens, but raised his eyes to the roof. As though
he could see him through the roof, the elder sang to the great
spirit.
Oh Great Spirit, gaze upon these your people.
I lift up my voice in your praise.
Accept my praise.
With good and warm spirit,
look kindly on us.
Accept my praise.
Look upon these maidens of passage.
Accept their spirits in joy.
Accept my praise.
Bring these maidens into your family.
Strengthen their spirits and hearts.
Accept my praise.
For several moments longer, Silent Stalker sang, praising
the Great Spirit and entreating his indulgence. For the final
lines, the maidens had been instructed to sing along with him.
He paused and nodded to them, then he continues with them.
Oh, Great Spirit, accept me.
Accept me into your family.
Accept my praise.
The song of praise and appeal ended. The elder sat in silent
meditation for a moment. He was about to speak to the maidens
when the door burst open. Into the room came several Bandar warriors.
They were clothed in hunting skins and there faces were painted.
They carried spears and some had bows also.
"The maidens will come now," said one stepping forward.
Silent Stalker stood, looking uncertain. "It is not time,"
he said. "We are not finished. Who are you?"
"We are Bandar," said the warrior. "The maidens
must come."
"No!" said the elder. "It is not time yet."
"Be quiet old man," snapped the warrior. He reached
out and grasped Snowflower by the hair.
"No!" screamed Silent Stalker and he pushed the warrior
away.
Another of the Warriors stepped forward and rammed a spear through
Silent Stalker's chest. He fell backward with a gasp. The older
women ran and cowered in a corner. Then the warriors herded,
pushed, and dragged the maidens out of the lodge.
Snowflower stumbled to the ground. Her new doeskin skirt was
soiled and torn and her hand bled where it had scraped on a stone.
As she struggled to her feet, she saw the chaos all about her.
Several of the people were lying on the ground. Some were moving
and moaning. Others were not moving at all. There were strange
warriors all around the village. The storehouse doors had been
broken open and the laid up food was being dragged out.
Then the warriors began to organize things. One very fierce warrior
seemed to be in charge. Several of the young Husbandmen were
lined up. They were brought to the storehouse and loaded up with
food. The maidens were pushed over and were also loaded with
all they could carry. Then the whole group was marched off. The
last Snowflower saw of her village was flames rising from the
roofs of several lodges. She was terrified and tears streamed
down her face.
They marched away from the village. The march went on long into
the dark of night. The Husbandmen and the maidens struggled under
their burdens. Every time one of them paused of stumbled on a
root or rock they felt the flat of a spear of a fist on their
back. Snowflower took several blows.
Finally the march stopped and the warriors began to make camp.
Snowflower thought to have some rest. It was not to be. As she
fell to the ground, exhausted, one of the warriors was upon her.
He tore her skirt away and with mad lust he took her. When he
arose, the ordeal was not over. Another took his place. After
four times, Snowflower lost her conscious self into a dream of
unknown horror.
She awoke by being kicked and stuck. She was yanked to her feet
and reloaded with her burdens. The march began again. For three
days the march continued and each night, Snowflower was used
without mercy. One of her friends and two of the men fared even
less well. They were left dead beside the trail. Finally they
arrived at the village of the Bandar.
Damaged in body and in spirit, Snowflower was given into the
keep of an old woman of the Bandar. The woman simply threw her
into a small hut. From the door, Snowflower watched in horror
as the fate of the young Husbandmen unfolded. They were relieved
of their burdens after arrival and slain without hesitation.
There was no ceremony of bier for the men. Their bodies were
simply dragged into the forest where the hungry beasts waited.
Later, Snowflower learned her own fate. She was forced to submit
and became a shared concubine of the young warriors of the tribe.
They used her without remorse or pity. After a while, she learned
to submit to the indignities without struggle. This reduced her
physical suffering. Her spirit was torn beyond repair.
Thus went her life for four pain filled summers. Her only solace
was her faith in the Great Spirit and the memory of her village.
Then, one day, Snowflower found herself with child. She began
to grow heavy. After a time, the warriors no longer desired her.
They had brought now slaves from other raids on other villages.
There was no end of plunder for the Bandar.
In truth, Chief Crazy Wolf had set a simple plan into being.
He had selected the most successful of the nearby villages. Each
year at harvest, he would send his warriors to each of the villages.
The villagers had a choice. They could give a quarter part of
the harvest to the Bandar, else they could have it taken and
have their village burned.
By the fourth year, all Crazy Wolf needed do was send one warrior.
Then the village leaders would yield a quarter part of their
harvest and send their young men to carry it to the Bandar. They
gained by not having their village burned nor their young men
slain. The power of Crazy Wolf and of the Bandar Grew. Men came
from other villages to become Crazy Wolf's warriors.
In the seventh moon of her new life within, the old woman took
Snowflower to the edge of the village.
"You must go now," she said.
Snowflower was shocked anew. Her eyes opened large. "Where,"
she pleaded.
"I care not," snarled the old woman. "You are
a burden. You must go. That is all."
"I cannot go. I know not where," cried Snowflower.
By then, several of the other women of the tribe had gathered.
They had been summoned by the old woman. They picked up stones
and sticks. They closed in on Snowflower who had become slow
and heavy.
"No, please," pleaded Snowflower.
Then the first stone struck her. She held up a hand and staggered
back. Another stone struck and another. Snowflower thought only
to protect the life within her. She turned and ran as a volley
of missiles flew after her. She was struck several times as she
fled into the forest. Finally they let her flee and after a time
she fell to the earth in despair and exhaustion. The view of
the forest became blurred and her eyes closed wearily.
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