Reporter: Today I am here with Black Bear, the revered shaman of Paupeck, a village of the Sushutny Tribe of the Powshinti Nation. So, Black Bear, what does a shaman do?
Black Bear: A shaman is a spiritual leader and healer for the village. Larger towns may have more than one, and most shamans take on an apprentice or two to impart the ceremonies and rituals to future generations of leaders.
Reporter: Healer? But don’t you have herbal healers?
Black Bear: Yes. My wife Rainbow is an herbal healer and midwife, and she is training our daughter Laughing Brook to follow in her profession. They provide an invaluable service to the people, but sometimes the cause of an illness or condition is spiritual. The shaman cleanses bad energy from places and prescribes meditation, prayers, or positive actions to purify the patient’s spirit from negativity.
Reporter: What other functions do you perform?
Black Bear: I perform weddings, funerals, and naming ceremonies, lead rites and rituals for going on hunts and safe travels, and important ceremonial days like First Salmon, and the solstices. A shaman intercedes with the spirit world on behalf of the community. Some of us have special gifts, like Walks with Spirits, who can call animals.
Reporter: Who is Walks with Spirits?
Black Bear: She is my adopted daughter and apprentice… sometimes. I started to teach her the skills of a shaman when I saw the special gifts she possesses, but then she moved to Nutaula with her blood kin to become a hunter. She is of two-spirits and her male side pulls her toward such activities while her gifts grant her phenomenal success. But she is young; Spirits will grow to understand her true calling in due time.
Reporter: You are your village’s spiritual leader. Tell me about your religion. Do you have a gathering once a week for prayers and to teach the people about your beliefs?
Black Bear: What is this word, “religion”? I do not know that word. Once a week meetings? What a bizarre concept! We pray many times every day. We give thanks for the sunrise, for the air, for everything in nature the Creator has blessed us with. When a team goes out to cut a tree, they ask the tree’s spirit if it is willing, and then offer appreciation if it says yes. The hunters thank the deer, goat, salmon, and elk for their sacrifice. The spirits surround us all the time and we are mindful to always show respect for both them and the ancestors. And it is not the shaman alone who passes on our beliefs, but all the old ones and parents to their children. We teach the people there is more that what we see, hear, and touch with our physical senses; the spirit world surrounds and indwells each of us. The life-force energy of spirit connects all human beings to each other and to the Universe. We are all one.
Reporter: You believe everything has a spirit? Even a rock? What about this cedar house post; does it have a spirit you are connected to?
Black Bear: The cedar tree has a spirit, and spirits cannot die. So when we are granted the right to cut the tree, its spirit remains within the item we use it for—a canoe, a bentwood box, a piece of furniture, even the houses in which we dwell. When we eat an animal and use its skin for clothing, its spirit is reborn into another animal, so it may enjoy life until it becomes food for someone else. Some believe a portion of its spirit remains and strengthens the one who eats it, but whether in our bodies or in a new one of its own, the spirit continues.
Reporter: What if someone cut trees without asking permission? What then?
Black Bear: Only foolish people do that! If the tree was against him and the man cut it anyway, its spirit would lash out at him through whatever he made with it. His house would be filled with strife and sorrow, his canoe with bad luck, always hitting rocks in the river and scaring away the fish. His bow would never shoot straight and his bench would break when he sat on it. No sensible person would ever do such a thing.
Reporter: Interesting. Let me ask you about how your society is ruled.
Black Bear: Ruled? We have no ruler. Each village has several or many longhouses, depending on its population. Within each house are a few extended families and maybe some individuals with no relations, who elect a house chief, a position often passed on to the son or daughter by consent of the residents. The house chiefs form a council to hear grievances or requests and vote upon the appropriate action to be taken. Occasionally, there may be a meeting of senior chiefs of all the villages in a tribe to discuss a pressing matter.
Reporter: So, these are the richest or strongest, the most skilled warriors among your people?
Black Bear: Precisely the opposite. A good leader is the one who can diffuse a volatile situation, make peace between parties, and propose the best comprises. A house chief may be a man or a woman with no fighting prowess at all, but whose primary concern is for the welfare of the members of their household. And we determine wealth not by how much a person owns, but by how much he or she gives away.
Reporter: How fascinating! I have learned a lot about your culture, but can you tell us something personal about yourself?
Black Bear: I love my family and my community; I love my Creator and the spirits that guide me through life. I love nature that surrounds me and I really try to see, hear, and understand, but sometimes I get it wrong. Even a seasoned shaman can misread the signs and, despite his best intentions, make life miserable for those around him. I have made mistakes in my life, and I hope to make up for them one day and restore happiness to those who matter to me the most.
Reporter: Thank you for your candor, Black Bear. In any society, it is a strong man who is wiling to admit his mistakes. Thank you for answering my questions and I wish you a pleasant day.
Bound by love, separated by circumstances; can two women realize their happy ending?
In a time when people believed everything had a spirit, there was a two-spirit woman who chose the life of a hunter. Human beings live in the physical world, while spirits dwell in the land beyond; Walks with Spirits inhabits both.
Daughter of a shaman and an herbalist-midwife, Laughing Brook holds a prominent place in her society. She is training to be a healer like her mother, but her one wish is to spend her life with Walks with Spirits.
When a misunderstanding crushes their dreams of happiness, both women must learn to face the trials that await them in a land where danger lurks behind every tree and honor means more than life. Will the spirits intervene on their behalf, or are they fated never to manifest their visions of love?
Walks with Spirits is a historical fantasy set in an ancient time. Packed with Native American themes, heart-touching imagery, and an epic love story, Walks with Spirits will immerse you in an inspiring view of life.
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Edale is giving away a $20 Amazon gift card with this tour:
From Chapter Two of Walks with Spirits
A movement at the front door drew Brook’s attention and in an instant her face lit up and her heart swelled. A tall woman wearing men’s clothing strode in, her head held high, and the energy in the chamber danced. Even Thunder Warrior did not seem so dull.
“That is Walks with Spirits,” he said with a gesture. “She is an odd woman of Nutaula who is coming on the hunt with us tomorrow. The Old Ones and shaman speak of her like she is special, but she can’t do anything that I can’t do. I feel uncomfortable around people of two spirits, don’t you?”
Brook’s smile had become a glow. “That is my Mepoose, my best friend. We grew up together in this house before she moved to your village.”
Thunder Warrior shifted positions and pushed back his free-flowing long hair. “I mean, she is well respected among our community. We are taught it is a blessing from the Creator to be born with two spirits,” he fidgeted. “It is merely something I don’t understand.”
Brook wrenched her gaze from Spirits long enough to study her male guest, a bemused expression on her face. When she said nothing, he continued to explain himself.
“I am a physical man,” he said with a tap to his muscled chest, “who lives in a physical world. I do not put my trust in spirits and legends. My spear, my bow, and the strength of my arm protect me from danger. Many men say one is well served to steer clear of spirits, lest you offend one. They say she talks to them every day.”
As Brook returned her oval eyes to follow Spirits across the room, her heartbeat raced and she sensed a tingle running through her being. “She does,” she affirmed.
She watched Spirits approach the hearth closest to the door where she stopped beside the spot where an old man with a cane sat on a cedar box up close to the fire, a beaver fur cape wrapped around his shoulders. He had deep lines in his leathery face, long gray hair bound by a plain leather band, and one leg stretched out awkwardly to catch the heat. Since Thunder Warrior had stopped talking, she could overhear their exchange.
“It is good to see you, Growling Bear,” Spirits greeted.
He spared her a glance and grunted. “Is it, now? If it were so, maybe you would come around more often.” He pulled his cape tighter and stared into the flames with a sour look on his etched face.
“You know I moved to be with my relatives in Nutaula,” she replied pleasantly. “But all morning I have been praying to the spirits that you will help me out.”
This time he raised suspicious eyes to her, hooded under scrunched brows. “Is that so?”
“It is. You see, I have been so blessed with good fortune that I have caught more game than I know what to do with. I am hoping you can take these two rabbits off my hands.” She extended the better pair toward him.
Growling Bear scowled and lowered his gaze to hands as gnarled as thick, aged vines. “What do I want with those scrawny, worthless rabbits?”
Spirits shrugged. “See, the thing is, I can only offer you the meat. I need the skins for a project I’m working on, so I’d have to skin them before I give them to you. I know they are rather puny, but they are fresh and there is only you to eat them.” She let out a disappointed sigh. “If you don’t take them, I’ll have to toss them to the village dogs, and they may fight over them. I hate it when the dogs fight over food, but… I simply have too much fresh game to keep them.”
Thunder Warrior spun to Brook in outrage. “What is he talking about? Those are fat, fine rabbits. Why is that grouchy old man so ungrateful? He does nothing but sit about and complain. When I am chief, I will not allow anyone like him to live in my longhouse. How can Black Bear tolerate him?”
Brook waited a moment to answer him as she listened to Growling Bear’s reply.
He shifted on his box and rubbed a hand across his knee. “I suppose I could take them if it is going to cause you distress for me to refuse. Maybe Falling Rain can throw them in a pot with some vegetables.”
Spirits smiled. “I will bring them back in a few minutes when I have skinned and cleaned them. Many thanks to you, Growling Bear. You have done me a great service.”
“I do not understand that woman!” Thunder Warrior declared. “He insults her and she thanks him.”
Brook turned to her guest while Spirits made her way slowly around the plank-house greeting everyone. “Do you not know who that old man is?”
“A leach who lives off the charity of others,” he stated in derision.
“No.” Brook explained in gentle and compassionate tones. “Growling Bear was once a great hunter. He feared neither man nor beast. He brought in scores of fish and killed five bears along with countless deer, elk, beaver, and other game. When he married, a reunion was held in his honor and he was Worthy and esteemed.”
“What happened to him then?” Thunder Warrior considered her words with reserved curiosity.
“One falling leaves time, long before I was born, he was on a hunting party in the mountains and they must have wandered too close to where the sasquatch lived. A sasquatch hurled a boulder that started a landslide on the mountain and Growling Bear was caught up in it. When the dust settled, the others found him near the bottom under a pile of rocks. They made a litter and rushed him back to Paupeck for the healer and shaman to help.” In an aside, Brook added, “This was before Black Bear and Rainbow held those titles, but who knows if they could have done better. The healer straightened and set his leg with splints, but it was broken in many places. He was very fortunate to have lived through the ordeal at all.”
A native of Vicksburg, MS, Edale (or Melodie) is also a musician who loves animals, gardening, and nature. After driving an 18-wheeler cross-country for eight years, she now lives with her partner in beautiful Chilliwack, B.C. Canada.
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