Bitter Harvest by J. Bryant Ray (best memoirs of all time .TXT) 📖

BITTER HARVEST

A Short Story

This is a story of pure fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

By: J. Bryant Ray
© 2009 The Internet Group

[-BITTER HARVEST-]

It was the summer of 1880. I shall try and remember the story as it was told to me as a young boy…

There once lived an Indian chief in the foothills of the nearby mountains, his name was Oliwagga; translated it means ‘One Who Listens’. He was not always the chief. As a young boy he hunted the woods around his home just as his father had taught him. Early on it was small game with a sling and smooth stones. His father would take him out into the woods and fields and show him the squirrels and rabbits; teaching him their nesting patterns, of how they came to feed.

The pair would sit very still observing the sounds around them; the boy listening for even the faintest signs of wildlife. There, on those early forays around his village, he eventually mastered the taking of larger animals, with bow and arrow and the long spear of his forefathers; the boy learned the skills that would serve him well into manhood. Later, once he became proficient in the act of taking game, his father began to teach him the ways of his people, those ways that had served them for centuries, many moons before the coming of the white settlers.

The planting of crops, the harvest and the storage of food for winter were among the earliest memories the young boy could recall. There was an old woman in their camp, some spoke of her in hushed tones, for she was blind; her eyes an eerie shade of blue-gray with a scaly covering that looked as if they had been burned by fire. Others said she was an old Spirit, from many years in the past. The older ones spoke of her as a child, recalling that day when she was in the field gathering grain with her mother; a summer storm quickly came up, catching them away from shelter. The two huddled under the protection of a lone oak tree at the edge of the field. They were trying to stay dry but the wind was blowing, the rain falling heavily, coming sideways so that the drops from the force of the wind were stinging their faces.

The little girl was afraid and wandered away from her mother; she looked to the sky and cried out! Just at that moment a large bolt of lightning came from the clouds striking the ground nearby; the falling rain immediately turning into a fine mist tasting of bitter salt, the mother’s skin felt cleansed of all impurities, as if she had taken a bath in one of the hot springs she had once visited.


Instantly the little girl was rendered unconscious; she lay there for a time before her mother rushed to see if she was still breathing, if she was in fact still alive. Sensing a faint heartbeat and listening for her shallow breathing, her mother picked her up and ran back to their village. There, for the next several days the little girl lay unconscious; the tribal medicine man and the woman of herbs prayed over her. Her mother and father wept uncontrollably as this was their only child. Others in the village offered up prayers for the awakening of the little girl.


On the fifth day, in the early morning somehow a miracle happened. The little girl awoke and asked for a drink of water. She told of the dreams that she had; she had seen a great famine of her people; a vision of hot, dry summers and failed harvests, of brutally cold winters with no game. She had also been visited by a spirit from many years past; this spirit spoke to her of how the rains could be summoned, but warning the little girl that misuse of the gift she was to receive would cause much pain and hardship to both she and her people.

Later that night, in the comfort of her family’s hovel, she told her mother and father that the spirit had also spoken to her of ways to cause the rains to come. She was given a simple prayer that could be offered with rain to follow in 3-days time; however she was never to reveal the prayer to anyone, not even her mother and father, not to the elders of her village; she should never utter it aloud; it was hers and hers alone.

The following spring brought new life and soon it would be time for planting. The men and women of the village were preparing the fields for sowing the seeds of corn and beans; planting the root crops of carrots, potatoes and beets and of course the grasses for their animals and the grains of wheat and barley for baking. They would till the fields making sure that no weeds were present; hoping for the rains of spring that would provide the moisture necessary for germination and young plant growth. Somehow this year the rains had not yet come. The young girl would hear talk around the campfire, the older men speaking of the need for rain but seeing that none was in the sky.

That night the little girl, lying in her bed, quietly recited the rain prayer she had been given in her dream. Three days later the rains came, not in a rushing downpour but in a gentle falling rain, lasting off and on for several days.

The villagers were excited and prayed to the heavens in thanks for the gift of the rain. All thru the growing season, whenever she heard the elders speaking of the need for rain, the little girl would offer up her prayer; each time the result was the same, gentle rainfall, lasting for several days, followed by growth of the crops. In the fall the harvest was very abundant, so much so that the village had to construct additional areas for storage of the grain and vegetables for the winter.


This went on for several years with each season being the same; regular rainfall with abundant harvests, followed by the offering of prayers of thanksgiving for the rainfall. Several days following the most recent harvests, she actually overheard her mother and father speaking quietly of their wish to reveal their daughter’s secret. The little girl begged her mother and father not to tell of her gift for fear that the prophesy might come true; that somehow famine and hardship would fall upon the village as she had seen in her dream. Her father was ever so insistent on telling the elders that it had been her and not the rain gods that they should be giving thanks to.

Finally, one evening around the campfire with the elders of the village, her father spoke of his little girls dream. He honored her wishes by not telling them of her ability to offer the prayer, but just that she had a gift that had possibly resulted in the rainfall the village had received for their crops.

The next day the tribal chief called the elders into council. It was decided that the little girl would henceforth be called “Wuti-Yoki” which translated means ‘woman of the rain’. It was not long before word spread across the territory of the existence of this gifted young girl, of this so called Wuti-Yoki; thus began the offering of gifts to her family in return for her bringing rain for their crops as well.


The years that followed were quite busy for Wuti-Yoki; she traveled throughout the territory, visiting village after village. She would stay for a few days, and in the solitude of her surroundings offer up the prayer she had been taught. As before 3-days would pass and the rains would come, followed by bountiful harvests. As the young woman advanced into adulthood she grew weary of this gift; she wanted a life of her own, she wanted children and a family, but to date no man had asked her to be his wife. She had not received even so much as a second glance from the young men she would meet during her travels.

One day she had just completed a visit into a remote area of the territory, when she came upon a wagon train headed west. There was a guide, a young man named Billy Spence, who assisted her, providing repair to her horse’s shoe that had become loose. During this brief encounter the pair struck up a conversation. She learned that Billy was to leave the wagon train in the next town, giving them over to another guide who would take them on to their destination. Billy learned that she was called ‘Wuti-Yoki’; she was so taken with him, and he with her that Billy agreed to come to her village to ask properly for her hand in marriage.

The next month, at the beginning of September, Billy Spence rode into her village. Every one came out to meet him, the young boys excited to see this tall white man with the beautiful horse and the hand-tooled leather saddle. His dual six-guns hanging from his belt and his fair hair and blue eyes were quite a novelty in the village. His skill with six-guns amazed even some of the elders as Billy gave demonstrations of his prowess with both gun and knife.

He challenged the young men to knife throwing contests, beating them every time. After a dinner meal, around their campfire, Billy formally asked Wuti-Yoki’s father for her hand in marriage. Amidst the cheering of the village, her father agreed; this made Wuti-Yoki very happy, at last she could have a family of her own; no longer would she travel from village to village feeling used and lonely.

The wedding was planned for three days following; it would be a tribal affair and Billy had much to learn before their wedding day. The next days would be spent in talks with the elders and the medicine man about the ways of their life, that Billy should not wander too far away from the village as Wuti-Yoki was a key to their survival. The elders agreed that she should be able to return each spring for the planting ritual and to assist with the rain that was needed.

Billy insisted that he had plans for the couple to live in the next town, only a half-days ride from the village. There he would become the proprietor of a feed and seed store; the couple would welcome family visits at any time they wanted to make the journey. On their wedding day the village was decorated in the traditions