Creations Song - (3 of 4)

Coyote composed himself and slowly spoke, “Go to the snowy mountains and you will see a spot on the side that looks like red stone. Above those rocks a great battle occurred long long ago. Two shamans were arguing about who was the greater, and they used their magic to fly and show their power. First one flew, and then the other showed that he, too, could do that trick. Each flew higher and farther. Finally, one said to the other, ‘I will fly from the side of this mountain over the lake and to the other mountain on the other side.’
He flew again, but his magic wasn’t strong enough to take him over the lake. He fell and hit the rocks, and that is why the rocks are red today.”
“Along the place of the red rocks, you will find a trail. Take the trail up the mountain until you come to a small lake. That is a power spot, and perhaps you can find what you are looking for there?”

Song-Maker thanked Coyote for his kind help, and to began the journey the next morning. He was weak from fasting and the journey was hard. Every time he looked up, it seemed as if the mountain was no closer than it had been an hour ago. Weary from walking, Song-Maker stopped to rest along a small brook. The water was clear and cold. It gurgled over rocks as it went on its way from the snow to the valley. He took off his pack basket and took a long drink. He sat down on a thick soft patch of moss. He lay back against the basket like a pillow and closed his eyes. He was tired, so very tired. The last thing he heard was the brook.
In the soft stillness and wrapped in the sounds of creation, Song-Maker fell asleep. As he slept, he dreamt.
He dreamt of home and his family. He saw his mother singing as she prepared a meal. Suddenly, Snine appeared and asked him, “Wha..wha..what did you see?”
Song-Maker answered, “I was home.”
“How did you feel?” Sneena asked.
“I felt good”, Song-Maker answered.
Snine asked, “What do you hear?”
“I hear the brook singing on its way to the valley below,” Song-Maker said.
“How does it make you feel?” Snine asked.
“My heart is glad to hear the song of the brook,” Song-Maker answered. Snine blinked his large amber eyes and said, “Come with me.” With that, Snine spread his large wings and with just a few strong flaps, rose into the air. In his dream, Song-Maker also found himself rising with Snine, and they both flew to the snowy mountain. Song-Maker saw the animals below; the elk, moose, deer, and bear. The birch, aspen, and poplar trees were in their Fall colors, brilliant yellows and gold. Ahead, he could see the red rocks on the mountainside, just as Coyote had said. They flew higher and higher, up the mountain they went. He knew it was a dream, but he felt the air get cooler and cooler as they went higher. Sneena glided to a little high mountain saddle, with a small lake, and landed on a low limb of a pine tree. Song-Maker never felt the landing, but dreams are like that, he thought. The grass around the lake was short and thick. There were small groups of low growing juniper dotting the area. Swamp tea grew there, and also the avalanche lily. Song-birds, finch, and chickadees colored the air with their songs. Song-Maker drank in the beauty; he breathed in the fragrant air, and listened to the birds and the nervous barks from a small red estsek (squirrel).