Archaeologist DeShay Greywater studied her reflection in the mirror. Her long hair was braided in the traditional style of Lakota, as her mother had taught her to do, her brown eyes ringed with shadows due to lack of sleep. Today, she would try to locate a site near Eagle Nest Butte where relics of the Lakota had been unearthed. What new adventure would come her way? She grew anxious that her find would be as good as last week’s when she’d discovered a set of pottery dating back to the nineteenth century.
She gathered her belongings as her mind railed off to the relics she’d found last year: arrowheads, pieces of beads, and some pottery , items belonging to her ancestors, dating back to the time of Crazy Horse.
She turned the doorknob to the creaky screen door and stepped outside where the sun bathed Mother Earth with its heated rays. The TV weatherman had predicted it would be hotter today than yesterday. What did one expect in the month of August? Her people knew it as the Moon of Black Cherries or Thunder Moon.
The Great Creator had bestowed great beauty on this part of the Earth. Every morning, DeShay’s spirits lifted as she took in the land’s majesty. The jagged rocks hung low, pivoting toward Mother Earth, as the mountains towered toward the blue sky.
DeShay climbed into her dirty Jeep packed with all the tools of her trade. A sacred medicine wheel hung from the rearview mirror. The power it held radiated the strength of her people. Her grandfather taught her as a young girl to keep her Lakota way of life, regarding everything as sacred, connected, and sent from the Great Mystery.
A few minutes later, DeShay turned onto a dusty road. Dirt sprayed into the air as the wheels of the Jeep turned faster, transforming the moment they touched pavement. Would today bring more questions than answers?
Lost in thought, she almost sped by the path she sought. She mashed the brakes, sending her Jeep skidding sideways. Outside the window, the’ sun’s rays sparkled down upon the butte, releasing a glimpse into the world of the past. Could anything be more beautiful?
DeShay opened the door and stepped out. She stretched her legs d then grabbed her gear. Today would reveal a part of her heritage from long ago. Her heart thumped. What awaited her?
She headed down a dusty path, through a rusty gate, and up a gravel path. The beauty revealed the presence of her ancestors. The echo of the hawk squawked as the sun cascaded over the mountains. Finally, the site came into view. In the distance, Eagle Nest Butte stood, while Bear-in-the-Lodge Creek faintly made its presence known by its pivoting stair steps.
As she set her gear down, she noticed a ripple that looked like paper out of the corner of her eye. She stood and covered her brow to block the intensity of the sun’s rays while sweeping away the sweat on her forehead. A few feet away lay a niyaha, a feather.
As she picked it up, she thought of the legend her grandfather had told her when she was a young child. She squatted by a rock and looked off into the beauty of her land and heard her grandfather’s voice.
“Many, many moons ago, an old Lakota medicine man sat on a sacred mountain in search of his vision quest. The trickster spirit, Iktomi, appeared. He came in the form of the mighty spider.
Iktomi spoke man in a sacred language understood by the medicine men of the Lakota.
As the spider addressed the elder, he took the hoop the elder held in his hand and began to spin a web. As he did, he spoke about the journey of life. Life begins as an infant, then it emerges into childhood, then to adulthood and old age. He explained in each time of our lives, the good and bad will surface. .
Iktomi spun his web as he continued “The difference is, if you travel the red road, then you will walk in the right direction, whereas if you travel the black road, you choose a miserable life. Also remember there are many roads you will travel and many choices to make. You must always walk in harmony with Mother Earth and with our Creator.
The spider worked from the outer side of the web toward the middle.
Iktomi stopped speaking, while he handed the medicine man the web. The elder listened when the spider spoke: The web is a complete hoop but there is a small opening left in the center. Use this hoop to help keep all bad dreams away, and it can be used to aid in the Lakota’s beliefs and visions as a nation. Remember, if you believe in the nagi tanka, Great Spirit, the sacred hoop will catch your good dreams, and they will flourish, and the bad dreams will be allowed to pass through the hole and leave, causing no harm.”
Thusly, the Lakota medicine man explained his vision to his people, and now the dreamcatcher is used as the hoop of life to protect the people and their way of life.
DeShay gazed toward the sky, skan, as a hawk, cetan, circled overhead. She closed her eyes when the wind echoed through the canyon causing the feather to brush her hand. The feather was very sacred to the Lakota, more so if it is the feather of the hawk or eagle.
She opened her eyes and glanced down at the feather. It had tarnished, and parts of the feather shredded by the heat, or had they had been pulled off in a struggle? She tucked it in her pocket and to consider later.
When she turned to set up her site, a rancid odor grabbed her attention. Uneasiness crept inside her at the sight of something partly covered with earth. Some kind of animal carcass? ’
Her heart beat faster. Her stomach clenched. Her mouth went dry. She covered her nose to shut out death’s distinctive odor. These were human remains. A woman. A cry of anguish escaped DeShay’s lips. The young woman lay supine, clasping something to her chest. As DeShay got closer, she identified the object as a medicine wheel with an arrow in the center pointing southwest. Who would have done this? Her mind raced. Her heart skipped beats, as she leaped over the gate on the way to her Jeep. She had to get her cell phone. Why, oh why, hadn’t she taken it with her? In her haste, she tripped over a rock, but jumped back to her feet and ran. Approaching her vehicle, she reached inside, grabbed the phone, and, shaking dialed 911. “Nine-one-one, what is your emergency?”
“My name is DeShay Greywater. I came to Eagle Nest Butte to explore for artifacts, and I found a dead body.”
“Okay, Ms. Greywater. What is your exact location?”
“I’m on a gravel road, off Highway 44, just west of Wanblee.”
“I have officers en route. Please remains where you are and do not disturb the site. Is the body male or female?’“
I believe it’s a female. The skeleton looks somewhat intact, but the body has been eaten by vultures.”
“I will let the officers know, thank you. I will stay on the line with you until officers arrive. “
Tucking the phone under her chin, she opened her bottle of water and took a long, cool drink. Although relieved she called the authorities and someone would soon arrive on the scene, she couldn’t get the dead woman out of her mind. She ran her forearm over her forehead to wipe away the sweat and willed herself to stop trembling. Her dig for today would have to wait. For now, the poor woman’s remains were far more important. The feather, the medicine wheel, and the dead body were all connected in some way.
She glanced inside her vehicle where the permit for today’s excavations sat clipped to the sun visor. She snatched it, placed it inside her pocket. She now realized why permits must be obtained .
Her instructor in college explaining the reasons for the permit. His words echoed in her mind. “No archaeological excavations can take place on federal or Native American lands without a permit being purchased in advance. If any part of this law is broken, everything including equipment and the violator’s vehicle can be taken away. In addition, the items found cannot be sold or traded. A person can be fined up to $100,000 and prison time of up to five years could be handed out for such violations. Besides it helped to cover the innocent.
Also, the tribe and federal government would be the ones to deal with any graves unearthed, and the remains turned over to the tribe to deal with proper reburial.
DeShay was glad she’d followed the rules.
Had this woman committed suicide or murdered. The feds would be called in to investigate the situation. Her thoughts ran about the newspaper article, she had read months ago about human remains being found on federal land.
The sunflowers caught her attention once again. They smiled as they stood erect. Perhaps Agent Melina Wolfe, a good friend and a Lakota, would come from Minnesota Some could not understand when she decided to become a federal agent. She said it helped her people having somebody on the inside. Have somebody representing them from the federal offices.
The operator spoke again, interrupting her thoughts. “Just wanted to let you know should be there soon.”
“Okay, thank you.”
DeShay paced back and forth now. Soon her world would become one with the determination of finding whose remains these belong to and how somebody could leave a person in such a place and why this person died so in such a manner and maybe catch a murderer.