Creations Song - (2 of 4)

The son said that he hoped that he wouldn’t be away a long time. He was well prepared with provisions. His mother gave him a birch-bark bundle, “it is pemmican, with huckleberries, just how you like it,” she said, with a sad smile.

Faced with the reality of leaving, the young man’s heart sank in his chest. He wondered if he should go after all?
How could he leave his parents and community and go after a song that might not exist? Could he do it alone?

Song Maker, (that was his name), took a deep breath and sighed deeply. He hugged his mother but kept his eyes on the mountains in the distance. With that, he said goodbye, and began walking away. To cheer him on his way, he took out his flute and began to play. He was on his adventure and with each new step, his confidence rose.

He went one days walk from the village. He made his summer shelter using cedar bark and poles to arrange a tee-pee like shelter. He tied the pemmican bundle to a pole inside the shelter to keep it from vermin and insects. He made a fire and began to play his flute. His music was strong and good. Day after day, he fasted, prayed, and played his flute.

On the fourth day of his fast, Coyote came to him. He sat next to him and listened to the music. Though weak with hunger, Song Maker’s music was still strong and good. Coyote nodded his head with approval.
“You are far from the village?” asked Coyote.
Song Maker answered, “I have been further on hunting trips.”
Coyote glanced about him, looking into the bush and up into the trees. He wanted to know if they were really alone.
Coyote was jealous of Song-Maker and his music. He thought of a trick to try on the boy. Seeing no one else, he said, “your songs are nice, but they seem to be missing something. Don’t you agree?”
Song-Maker had been fasting for four days. He was hungry and tired, and in no condition to match wit’s with that wily old Coyote. Since Song-Maker’s heart was good, he trusted others, and he also trusted Coyote. Song-Maker let out a sigh and his forehead wrinkled as he was deep in thought. He slowly said, “Perhaps you are right. My songs sound nice but are soon forgotten. I think there is a deeper music; a music that the heart remembers long after the song is quiet.”
Coyote smiled a little to himself, “he is believing me”, he thought. Sounding very concerned, Coyote then said, “I have heard that there is a powerful place in the mountains where the birds learn to sing their songs. I don’t suppose that could help…”
Song Maker looked up and fixed his eyes on Coyote. “Please, can you tell me more and how to find this place you speak of?” Song-Maker asked. Coyote was so pleased with himself that he had a hard time not laughing out loud. Coyote thought to himself, “The journey is too far. I can wear the boy out. He will never make it and be so discouraged, that he will stop making music,”