Adizo - a short story

Thousands of years before the white man arrived on their native soul, there was a proud nomadic tribe of peoples. Their names have been lost forever in history, even to those who keep the blood of their kind alive. For purposes of this tale, we will call them the Adizo.

The Adizo [pronounced: uh-DEE-tsoh) lived for a time in a large valley surrounded by three mountains, and it was when they lived in this valley that this tale took place.

When first the Adizo happened upon this beautiful paradise of land, they thanked the Earth their mother and they thanked the sky for lighting their way even at night, and they thanked the winds for alerting them of the rich perfumes and hints of livestock which alerted the Adizo scouts to this direction.

There were no predators and there were no warring tribes. The Adizo had travelled long and hard from the west in order to escape more battle-oriented tribes with which they had gotten along poorly. The Adizo were not generally a warfaring peoples. They preferred to move on as opposed to staying and fighting, for they believed life was more precious than land or property or misunderstandings.

The first night spent in this valley was a celebration. During the celebration, the Chief of the Adizo asked the Medicine Man to name the mountains and the valley. So it was the Medicine Man of the Adizo who gave these mountains their names, as it was customary. The wisest of the Adizo was chosen to be the Medicine Man for life. Though he was not the leader of the Adizo, even the chief of the tribe spoke of the Medicine Man with reverence and pride, often asking his advice and council on many issues pertaining to the safety and wellbeing of the tribe.

The Medicine Man took from his pouch some powder and tossed it into the fire, which caused the fire to briefly expand and sparkle with many colors. This silenced the celebration, and all eyes were turned to their spiritual guide and teacher.

The Medicine Man pointed to the north. The mountain to the north was to be known as White Mountain, he said. For its peak will always be covered in snow and it was the tallest. And all cheered the Medicine Man in his wisdom.

The Medicine Man pointed to the south, and said that mountain was to be known as Green Mountain, because year round he believed it woudl be fertile and covered in rich forests, flora and fauna, as well as a seemingly endless supply of healthy prey for the warriors of the tribe to bring home for their families. And all cheered the Medicine Man in his wisdom.

Then the Medicine Man turned to the east, and he stared long and hard at the mountain to the east. A hush fell upon the Adizo. What fell from his lips next came so softly, some in the back whispered to others what did he say?

The mountain to the east was to be known as Little Woman mountain, he said.

The people did not understand why. The mountain to the north was covered in snow, and so was to be called White Mountain. The mountain to the south was covered in grass and trees, and was to be called Green Mountain. They understood his wisdom. Yet, the mountain to the east appeared barren and chiseled with rock from deep in the Earth. It almost glowed a faint pinkish red in the moonlight. Surely it should be called Red Mountain.

And the Chief of the Adizo sensed the concern of his people. He approached the Medicine Man with reverence but uncertainty, The Chief cautiously explained he did not wish to question the wisdom of his mentor, but would it be possible to explain why?

The Medicine Man shook his head. Dare you question my authority? The time is not yet ready for all in the tribe to know, but a precious few will know soon enough.

The Chief reluctantly turned away, but only had to look into the eyes of his fellow tribesmen to know that he could not leave it at that. He insisted. The Medicine Man refused. The Chief scowled and ridiculed the Medicine Man before his people for not following a request of the Chieftain, inciting the possibility that others would follow suit. The Chief demanded an explanation. Why are we to call the red mountain The Mountain of the Little Woman?

The Medicine Man turned to his fellow Adizo and said, I will reveal as the Chief has demanded, though this is not the time and you are not ready. And because of his insolence, I name this valley after our Chief, and may all blessings and curses of this land be reflected in his namesake and his lineage.

The Chief accepted this cryptic punishment, acknowledging that having a place named after oneself while still alive was both a blessing and a curse to any man. And so the Valley was to be known as Chieftain Valley, and the people rejoiced in the wisdom of their Medicine Man.

The Medicine Man threw more pouch dust into the fire, which stilled the crowd.

A day will come, said the Medicine Man solemnly, when one of our tribe will explore the Green Mountain seeking something with selfishness but will find something else which will be precious to our people and it will be given to the tribe selflessly, then this same one of our tribe will climb the White Mountain seeking something selflessly but in so doing will find strength and precious untold wealth of the self, which will be both a blessing and a curse to this person and our people.

The chief was amazed. A Prophecy! The people rejoiced. And what of the third mountain? asked the chief of the Adizo to his mentor.

There she will find truth, said the Medicine Man. And that will be where we lay her bones. That will be her home.

The bravest and strongest of the Adizo hunters had been listening to all of this with disinterest and whimsy. Only now did he dare speak, This great explorer you speak of is a woman? Titters of amusement and uncertain whispers flitted about the tribe like butterfly wings. For it was largely accepted in the tribe that it was the men who explored and hunted for food and other necessities. The women remained at home to care for the children, sew the clothing and cook the food. No one questioned that the role of the other gender was equally as important, and no one before now ever dared question their place in the tribe.

Yet the Medicine Man was prophecying a great break from tradition. One that would not be tolerated by most, but for his wisdom.

The Medicine Man turned to the Chief. He then turned to the First Hunter to the Chief.

If you do not want this to transpire, First Hunter. Walk into the fire now.

The First Hunter returned the Medicine Man's look quizzically, with sheer disbelief on his face. I - I do not understand.

Walk into the fire and let it consume you. If the fire consumes you, what I foresee will not transpire, and we will call the red mountain, The Mountain of the First Hunter, and no hunter will ever be considered first after you. If the fire spits you out, then what I foresee will happen, and we will name the red mountain The Mountain of the Little Woman.

The Chief reluctantly but diplomatically rebelled against his mentor. The First Hunter was a prize of the tribe. To walk into the fire and be consumed, the tribe would lose a man who had served his people well, brought them meat and skins and defended the tribe when there was trouble. Saved children that other tribes had sought to kidnap or attack. The Chief refused to allow the First Hunter to enter the fire.

The First Hunter stood up and approached the fire, and begged the Chief for his permission to allow the fire to consume him. The Chief forbid it. The First Hunter said that the Medicine Man had placed before him a challenge, and were the First Hunter to back down, he would always believe the tribe would see him as weak and with fear, but he was strong and fearless, and would take on a fire stronger than the one before him, if it meant to save his people.

The Chief forbid it, and instructed the other hunters to prevent the First Hunter to approach the fire. The First hunter's peers then stood and circled the fire, and the First Hunter continued to insist that he be allowed to challenge the fire. The chief and his peers chanted Let it be called the Little Woman. We need you. The Fire does not want you. The fire will spit you out.

The Medicine Man stood back and watched, and glanced at another face among the gathered tribe. The face of a woman pale in the firelight. She was the daughter of a veteran Scout who was well respected in the tribe. She struggled to break free from the embrace of her mother, siblings and friends, for they knew she cared deeply for the First Hunter, but that he had never noticed her before.

The First Hunter danced around the circle and the fire, looking for an opening to pounce through and embrace the fire. His fellow hunters and some of the scouts now circled the center of the fire, defending it and blocking his approach. The First Hunter knew he could fight through and take them all to get to the fire, but it was a law of the tribe that never was one to raise a fist to assault a fellow member of the tribe. He would have to out dance them. Out maneuver them.

The entire tribe was a swirl of emotions and confusion, and the display before them dancing about the fire both amazed and frightened them. They were all transfixed on the challenge of the fire.

The Medicine Man quietly made his way to the Daughter of the Scout, and amidst the turmoil and shouting, he quietly motioned to each of her family and friends to let her go. To let her go to him.

However, just as they let go their embraces and set the Daughter of the Scout free to run to the First Hunter and stop him from meeting the challenge of the fire, the First Hunter broke through the ranks of his fellow hunters and scouts, and jumped into the center of the bonfire. The tribe seemed to gasp in unison, as they witness him stand in the flames.

The pain was tremendous, searing immediately at his feet and legs. Almost as soon as the First Hunter jumped onto the hot coals and met the red blades of flame as they reached for the sky, the pain was too much for him and he was forced to jump back out again.

He fell to the ground on the opposite side of the fire from where he had entered it, and screaming he began rolling in the dirt and grass as his fellow hunters threw blankets on top of him to put out the flames that still licked and wrapped themselves around him.

Then the Daughter of the Scout appeared by them on the fire, and her friends and family members followed behind, carrying healing salves and material for bandaging his burns. In his pain and misery, the First Hunter looked up into the eyes of the Daughter of the Scout, and noticed her touch was cool and soothing to his pain wracked and burned body, and her eyes enveloped his with a love he had never felt before, always being too proud and vain to pay attention to anything but himself.

And preparations were made to carry the First Hunter to a tent, to be cared for by the Daughter of the Scout, known in the tribe as a healer, as she and other women in the tribe had been taught by the Medicine Man himself, the ways to cure and treat the wounded hunters and scouts.

The Medicine Man returned to his Chief's side, The fire spit him out, put the Medicine Man simply. Then it shall come to pass.

The Chief turned to the Medicine Man in dismay. Did this have to be?

Yes said the Medicine Man. It had to be. For now the safety and security of the future of the Adizo people was insured. A day would come when one of their tribe would explore the Green Mountain for selfishness only to find selflessness. A day would come when one of their tribe would climb the White Mountain for selflessness, but would find both a blessing and a curse. And a day would come when she would seek out the Red Mountain and find the truth. And that would be her home. And that would be where her bones were buried.

And the name of the Red Mountain would be the Mountain of the Little Woman.