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Canku Ota |
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(Many Paths) |
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An Online Newsletter Celebrating Native America |
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November 16, 2002 - Issue 74 |
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Brother Eagle |
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by Richard Slater
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credits: art: Crown
of Gold by Alan M. Hunt
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Here
is a true story. It happened several years ago while I was working in
Idaho. I was driving to Boise, ID to
finish a consultation job with a group of sugar refineries, located
in southern Idaho. I had left home early that morning and was in the
hills south of Nampa, ID when I first saw it. Sitting along the highway,
an adult Golden eagle, dark brown feathers down its sides and wings,
shiny gold colored feathers along its face. I slowed the truck to look the
eagle over as I drove by and for a split second I heard a voice inside
me saying "Don't stop, Go". I looked at the eagle as I went
by and I realized the bird was also watching me. I proceeded down the highway
for about a mile and then turned around. I had a feeling that I needed
to go back to where I had seen the eagle. It was gone when I arrived.
I parked the truck and looked over the ground along the road. I found
nothing, no fur or feathers to indicate the bird had made a kill along
the road. I recall thinking, how unusual, to find a Golden eagle sitting
on the ground and then I noticed that there was no other traffic. I
was the only one on the road for as far as the eye could see in either
direction. I got back in my truck and continued on towards Nampa. About ten miles later, I saw what appeared to be a bad accident. It looked like a car had pulled onto the highway, in front of a pickup. The Highway Patrol and an ambulance were there along the side of the road. I went on to Boise, ID, finished
my work in about a week and headed for home the following Saturday morning.
The south city limits of Nampa
were behind me some ten miles now and I suddenly remembered the encounter
with the eagle. I slowed the truck as I neared the place where the eagle
had been. Of course, I never thought I would see the bird again, at
least not sitting along the highway. I stopped the truck and got out.
I looked down the road. No bird. Then I scanned the hill ridges to the
north and there perched high was the eagle. I walked across the road,
closer to the bird and sat down on a rock. We sat there looking at each
other, me on a rock below and the eagle on that high ridge, for a long
time. The Golden eagle call sounds
like a high pitched whistle which trails off at the end and as I sat
there on that rock I talked to the eagle, thanking it for making me
stop the week earlier. The eagle called back to me. Much time has passed since we and our brothers spoke the same language and each understood the other clearly, but our actions can still express our feelings and intentions towards each other. Some of the People have said "Things like this don't happen anymore because we are not pilay (pure)". I would like to think that Our Creator continues to love us and still sends his Helpers to take care of us when we need them. And now my story has ended |
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