Harrison Investigations 2 Ghost Walk Read Online Free PDF

with snakes that writhed and crawled among them."
    "Ugh!" cried one of the younger girls.
    "What happened then?" asked the older boy who had heckled him before.
    "Ah, well, the other hunter was naturally amazed—and more than a little afraid. But the woman told him to hurry to his village and tell the elders, chiefs, shamans and all the people that she was coming, and that she had a message to give that all must heed. The hunter hurried to the village and relayed his story, and everyone—from the great chief to the smallest child—dressed in his and her best and gathered in the great tepee as if for a council, and awaited her. She came, beautiful in her white, carrying the bundle that she had previously worn on her back."
    "And what then?" asked a boy of about eleven.
    "First she took a stone from the bundle and set it on the ground. Then she took out a pipe. It had a red stone bowl, the color of the earth, and she said that it stood for the earth. There was a calf carved upon it, and the carving stood not just for the calf but for all the creatures that walked the earth. The stem of the pipe was wood, and that stood for all things that grew. There were beautiful feathers attached to the pipe, and they stood not just for the hawks and eagles, but for all the birds that flew in the sky. When she had explained all this, she said that those who smoked the pipe would learn about relationships—first, with the Wakantanka, had come before them, grandfather, grandmother, father, mother, and those who would follow, sons and daughters. All relatives were bound as one and meant to be honored. All the earth was sacred and to be cared for. All were to be respected."
    The boy of eleven looked troubled.
    "What is it?" Brent asked.
    "We're not supposed to smoke," the boy told him solemnly.
    Brent smiled. "You're Michael?" he asked, trying to remember all the names.
    "Michael Tiger," the boy said proudly.
    "Michael, you're right. Smoking isn't just very bad for your health, it's an expensive and annoying habit."
    "Then how can anyone smoke the sacred pipe?" the girl at Brent's side asked.
    Brent lowered his head, smiling. "The sacred pipe is now part of a ceremony. There are very specific times when the pipe may be smoked among the Lakotas, you see."
    "You never finished the story," another of the girls pointed out.
    "Ah, yes," Brent said. "Well, the rest of the story relates to what we're saying now. The stone that the White Buffalo Woman put down at first had seven little cuts in it. They indicated those very special times when the pipe might be smoked, ceremonies to honor all that she was teaching. They would be part of the relationships that the people must learn so that they would not be like animals, wandering the earth, without care for it or those around them. When she had taught them a bit more, she walked a few steps away. Then she turned into a brown and white calf. Again she walked, and this time she became a white calf. After a few more feet, she became a great black buffalo. She left the council tepee and walked up a hill and there she bowed to the four corners of the earth, north and south, east and west, and then…"
    "And then?" Michael Tiger demanded.
    "She vanished," Brent said.
    "But… why did she come, if she was only going to disappear?" Michael asked.
    "She came to teach the people to respect and care for one another, for the earth itself, and for all creatures, and for all the gifts that were given to man, even the stones and the river and the ground," Brent said. He smiled, rising. "That is the Lakota legend of the White Buffalo Woman." He swept an arm out, indicating the many people who were attending the festival, a gathering of tribes deep in the Florida Everglades. It wasn't a reenactment of the old days—vendors sold soda, popcorn, tribal T-shirts, corn dogs and other non-native foods, while rock bands filled the air with sounds that would certainly have shocked the White