The Two-Souled One
The white wolf of the echoing woods was a part of the
established lore of the native peoples, and had been so for as long as they
could remember. Now, it would be natural to assume that it couldn’t have been
the same wolf, extending back for hundreds and perhaps thousands of years, but
the peoples of the plains and the surrounding area insisted this was so. The
white wolf was almost certainly held to be the same one, and if it was so old,
this could only be explained by the fact that it was a sorcerer. It wasn’t
really a wolf, in other words.
Trees lived for hundreds of years, but would eventually succumb.
They would grow old and weary, and would be slowly hallowed out, and would lie
down the way other living things would lie down. They could also be attacked by
illness, by lightning strikes, and by fires. They could be chewed by beavers,
or beset by blight, or maybe, their roots might be pierced by some form of
burrowing animal. That much had been seen in other trees, and had been
communicated in the lore of other people who had lived in forests, if not in
the echoing woods. But there were things in these woods that couldn’t be
explained.
For one thing, there was the fact, as already mentioned,
that the trees were packed closely together at the edges of the woods. They
were packed so closely together that they seemed to weave a protective wall
that could scarcely be penetrated. Was it meant to keep things out? People
could still penetrate into the woods, but they would have to follow the path of
the rivers that led out of the woods, but none had ever penetrated very deeply.
It was also a fact that there were fires within the woods
that couldn’t be explained. Now, fires were used by the native peoples, and
fires resulted as well from the lightning strikes that hit during dry periods,
when the skies were abuzz with energy that was meant to caress the world below.
(So it was interpreted, for it was thought by many of the original inhabitants
that lightning must certainly be a sign of lovemaking between the earth and the
sky.) But what could explain the fires that were lit deep within the woods
during the winter period, great fires that tinged the sky with red, and that as
far as they knew couldn’t have been set by people, for none had been known to
live in the woods of the white wolf?
It was said that these fires were set by the wolves
themselves, and since the woods were ringed by hills, lying outside the domain
of the woods, it was possible for the people to climb up these hills to look
into the forests. (Curiosity sometimes overcame fear.) It was said that the
fires blazed in certain locations deep within the forest, but these weren’t
random blazes. These took the form of shapes, of patterns that seemed to trace
out circles, or lines, or what was most breathtaking, spirals. How could these
possibly be natural? These fires blazed brightly at night, and it was
speculated that the wolves had their own religious ceremonies, and they must
certainly be sending messages, for the howls of the woods would echo quite
distinctly during the periods when these fires were set, and could be heard for
miles away.
The white wolf, the one that stalked the dreams of so many
of the Indians of the region and, later, of the white settlers who arrived in
subsequent years, quite evidently was the leader of a hidden nation. It was
thus worthy enough to be graced with its own name, and in the lore of the
Zaltarek nation, was given the name Kakturimeritak-fnah-tutwui, which meant the
two-souled king. It was said to have the spirit of both a wolf and a man, like
the great constellation seen on summer nights, the one that seemed to take the
form of a wolf with a human face. This face seemed to follow the great milky
river that criss-crossed the night sky, as if it was following a path that led
to a hidden destination. The name was
also deemed apt because this white wolf, being singular, was quite evidently capable
of human speech. This ability had been noted in ancient lore, and while few had
ever been in close presence to Kakturimeritak-fnah-tutwui, those who had and
survived were adamant that it had understood their speech and had, furthermore,
spoken in turn.
It was said that the white wolf at times condescended to
talk to humans, for inscrutable reasons. Never had it been known to ask any
questions, for it already seemed to have all the knowledge that it needed, or
that it gauged possible to obtain from humans, but it would offer short and
taunt observations, as well as warnings, and from time to time, would foretell fates.
History told of an elder who alone had been permitted to have
extended conversations with the ancient white wolf. His name had been Sa, and
he was known to have been a worthy warrior, one who had furthermore been known
for his preference for solitude. As an old man he had grown blind, and by all
accounts, would have been forced to depend on the people to attend to his needs
had he not received an invitation by the white wolf to the woods and dwell
within. Sa, who had turned white and hoary with age, accepted the invitation,
for he was human, and curiosity still burned deeply within him, and he had
always sought his own path.
Sa, with sightless white eyes and a white mien, withdrew from the open
sunlight, and chose to dwell in the shadow of the trees, in the company of the
white wolf. From time to time, he would emerge from the woods, and he would
shake his head and turn from side to side, and he seemed to turn whiter the
longer he dwelled within, as was passed down by lore. If members of his tribe
passed by the edge of the forest, and called out to him, never too insistently,
he might emerge, from a patch between the trees that had not been seen before,
and he would shuffle out to the men, his former nation, and would speak to
them.
He would emerge in particular during the time of the hunt,
when the herds of buffalo roamed the land from one corner to the other. The
vibrations seemed to draw him out more than the meek calls of his former
associates, and he would sit on the ground with his palms touching the ground,
and smile, as the drumbeat of distant animals on the open land were a music
that enchanted him as few other pleasure had in his lonely life. And he told
them of his conversations with the white one.
“The white one shouldn’t be feared”, he is reputed to have
said in a conversation that had been persevered in lore, “For while he seems
aloof, he cares deeply for the land. We should called him protector, and not
wizard, for what he keeps within the woods would surely destroy us if it was
loosed upon the world.”
Now, there were episode that had been preserved by oral
history, in which the white one had spoken to humans. These were invariably
brief conversations, and they were always associated with an element of wonder,
for what stood out in the memory of those that recounted these conversations
was the memory of the sound of that voice, a hoarse growl that was barked out
insistently, but was nonetheless very distinct, and had a certain grace and
authority that mesmerized almost as much as the stare of those magnificent
green eyes. The white wolf knew more than they could suspect, but it never
seemed to be motivated by a desire to do harm, for it was merciless only when
provoked.
According to Sa, it was a clever wolf who did, indeed, have
two souls. It had the soul of a wolf, but the other soul wasn’t a human. That
was where the people had been mistaken. The wolf spoke to the trees, and it
spoke as well to the sun, and to the moon, and to the far-off mountains that
called to the wolf in their own way that was almost unbearable to the
two-souled one. And, contrary to what they had thought, the white one roam
about the land only when accompanied by its pack. It was also a lonely animal,
as much out of place with the other wolves as it was in the woods far away from
the mountains, and when the call became too unbearable, it would roam out by
itself away from the woods, out into the plains, unseen and untouched by
anyone.
When the moon was hidden, Kakturimeritak-fnah-tutwui (for Sa
chose to continue using the human word, insisting that the name used by the
white wolf was quite unpronounceable), the two-souled one wandered far afield,
out past the edges of the human settlements. It listened to the voice of the
wind, and to the shimmering flicker of the stars, and at times, yes, it
approached the settlements of the people, as it had told Sa, and it listened to
the fire and to the stories that were told during dark evenings, for stories
were the spells that bound it to the earth and to the woods and to the mission
it carried out.
“The two-souled one lives for stories, and it knows that the
world has ever been a place of conflict. It knows that it comes from somewhere
else, but it has been given a mission deep in those woods, and although it is
unhappy, it would be unhappier still if it failed at the charge it has been
given. The stories tell of sacrifices, first and foremost, and pain alone give
dignity to life, for it expressed a sense of the value of things that we
otherwise take for granted.”
These were concepts that had been little associated with the
figure of the white wolf that had seemed unalterably strange and forbidden, as
aloof as the whirling summer twister, as fickle as the wandering buffalo, as oppressive
as the snow of winter. To tell the truth, what most affected those who heard
the first accounts by Sa of his conversations with the two-souled one was the
chilling revelation that they had almost certainly been spied upon by the white
wolf in the past, without having any way of detecting its presence.
Sa elaborated on his account. He told them that the wolves
had lived in the woods long before the first people had arrived. Back then, the
woods had been different, had been brighter, and had been more joyful. What was
now a place of echoes had once been a place of music, and the wolves had not
been alone. Back then there had been other creatures that lived in the surrounding
area, gigantic bison with large tusks, and wild boar, and lions that had
prowled in the hills, powerful and feared hunters. But something had happened,
something had arrived in the woods that had teemed with activity, and with it,
the two-souled one had been called, to try to contain what had slowly started
draining the life of the woods.
Here Sa became more ambiguous and vague in his recounting of
the story, as if he was hesitant to reveal the true dimension of the problem
involved. All he would say was the Kakturimeritak-fnah-tutwui spoke of one who
slept, but would one day awaken. There were places deep inside that he would
never see but that the white wolf told him about, and there was a secret place
that they, the wolves themselves, avoided at all costs. There were, thus,
secretive woods within secretive woods.
Sa told his tribe to respect the boundaries of the woods.
They should never try to enter, for they were being kept out for a reason. If
they tried to enter, they would certainly be killed, for the need was great to
maintain a certain equilibrium, all the more so since it was so fragile. Why it
was that Sa had been permitted to enter one he would never be able to explain,
but there was a passage deep in the woods, and up to this point little detail
had been provided by the two-souled one. It was a riddle that obsessed them
both, however.
Kakturimeritak-fnah-tutwui alone of all the wolves could
speak the speech of humans. It was never fully clear, though, if those wolves
might not be able to understand human speech, for Sa sensed that the other
wolves gathered around when the white wolf spoke to him, and appeared to listen
carefully, as he could judge by their quiet breathing and the stillness of the
air. Sa learned of many stories that he promised to tell them at another time,
and he told them that the wolves listened carefully when he shared his own
stories treasured among the people, their own stories of origins, and of hunts,
and of courtship and adventure.
There were stories about the river as well, and of the fish
that traveled along it and settled in the lakes, but the two-souled one always
remembered the mountains from which it had been called.
And so it was that the people memorized the stories told by
Sa, those stories that were shared during that one summer, for Sa never did
reappear in subsequent years. There were those who scoffed at the stories, and
insisted that they must have been idle dreams produced by one who had ever been
known to prefer the intoxication of the Paruntha weed, the one of eternal
dreams. Why Sa alone had been allowed to enter the woods the young scornful
ones could not explain, but they spoke with bravado about their mission, to one
day challenge the white wolf, and to claim the woods for their own. In their
view, Sa was little other than a foolish man, too fond of solitude and rendered
unmanly by age. Others disagreed with these scornful ones, and defended the
memory of the old man, who had been a distinguished warrior when young, but
little else was said other than to incorporate the account of the hidden
mysteries revealed by Sa. It was held that he must surely be gone, though, that
winter, the bone rings that had been worn by Sa were found in the midst of
their tents, after one moonless night. How they had ended up there was quite
unknown, for a man did not part with his bone rings even in death.
So Sa became known as the man-wolf, and
Kakturimeritak-fnah-tutwui became known as the wolf-man, in addition to his
other titles. And part of this knowledge was passed on to the early friars who
accompanied the earliest white settlers, and in particular, to one who took the
time to learn the language of the Indian nations and to inquire as to their
religion and their legends, thinking thereby to catalogue and dispute these
outlandish suspicions. This friar, Fray Joaquín Gaspar Zubizárraga, the Basque,
had the foresight to write them down, and that was how the knowledge of Sa and
the lore of the two-souled one came to the settlers, when so much lore from the
early peoples who had lived before the arrival of the settlers had been
otherwise lost. And it was to figure into the legends that were to be spun
about the child Sara, she who was also to venture into the woods many years
later and to emerge with a wondrous tale and message.
OGRomero © 2013
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