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Authors: Becky Lower
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about her feelings to him. Then the memory of Basil’s kiss kept getting in the way. She hummed to herself as she touched her lips, remembering the feel of his mouth on hers.
No, Temperance!
She banged her hand on the pommel of the saddle, startling her horse, making it shy from the path. Temperance’s wayward thoughts stopped quickly, as all her attention was focused on getting her horse under control.
As the horse once again settled into a comfortable trot, her thoughts returned to her letter to Jeremiah. Maybe as she composed her letter, she could write about his kisses as if they were Basil’s. That would certainly convince him that she loved him, wouldn’t it?
• • •
Temperance listened carefully as Joseph’s mother, Mary Tall Feather, a full-blooded Ojibwa, gave the Jones family precise instructions on how to prepare the body for an Indian burial. In accordance with their tradition, Samuel Jones’s body was washed, groomed, and dressed in his Sunday best. Because he had been a circuit rider preacher, Mary deferred from giving him a painted face. His arms were folded across his chest and his Bible was firmly in his hands. Her husband and sons wrapped the body in birch bark and hoisted it out the window, the only opening in the soddy, other than the door. The Ojibwa belief was if the body left the home through the front door, its spirit would find its way back inside the house.
The body was laid in a shallow grave under a tall red oak tree, which grew near the soddy. Its leaves were only now beginning to turn from green to the brilliant red and maroon colors of autumn, but soon they would rain down on the gravesite. Temperance’s father loved to take long walks in the woods, so he would feel right at home here. She stood next to her mother as they waited for the ceremony to begin. Her mother wept softly, but Temperance cleared her eyes of their tears. This was a first for her — participating in a traditional Indian burial ritual. Even though her father was a Church of the Brethern minister, he’d held an open mind to other beliefs, and so did she.
The youngest of the Lafontaine sons, Etienne, and Temperance’s sister Prudence took turns banging slowly on a ceremonial drum. Ginger was in attendance as well. Even though she was only a few months away from giving birth, she refused to be confined at home, and stood now by Joseph’s side.
Joseph was dressed in traditional Indian garb. He wore a deerskin shirt, richly embellished with beading down the front. His legs were covered in deerskin breeches, and a loincloth hung at his waist. Several feathers adorned his straight, black hair. Temperance spent a few minutes watching him as he prepared the sacrificial tobacco.
She understood why Ginger had been swept off her feet by him. Joseph in full Indian regalia was a very handsome, exotic man. The paint on his face emphasized his high cheekbones and his dark eyes. His hair hung loosely around his face and came alive as the breeze caught it. He, Mary Tall Feather, and another brother, Gaston, chanted softly as they drew near the grave.
Normally, the offerings to the Spirits would be performed by a high priest of the tribe, or the shaman. But Mary and Emil’s son Raoul, who was studying to become a shaman, was in Canada learning the Ojibwa ways alongside his grandfather. So the privilege fell to the eldest male with Indian blood.
Joseph stood tall at the foot of the grave and spoke in a low tone to Samuel Jones, wishing him well on his journey to the afterlife. He took the tobacco and raised it over his head. He offered it to the gods of the four winds, facing north, south, then east and west as he continued to chant. He completed the offering of the sacrifice to the sun, moon, thunder, and lightning, as well as the Great Spirit. Joseph continued to chant for a few more minutes, joined by Mary Tall Feather and her other sons. As one, they fell silent, along with the drum.
Justice walked forward, into the
No, Temperance!
She banged her hand on the pommel of the saddle, startling her horse, making it shy from the path. Temperance’s wayward thoughts stopped quickly, as all her attention was focused on getting her horse under control.
As the horse once again settled into a comfortable trot, her thoughts returned to her letter to Jeremiah. Maybe as she composed her letter, she could write about his kisses as if they were Basil’s. That would certainly convince him that she loved him, wouldn’t it?
• • •
Temperance listened carefully as Joseph’s mother, Mary Tall Feather, a full-blooded Ojibwa, gave the Jones family precise instructions on how to prepare the body for an Indian burial. In accordance with their tradition, Samuel Jones’s body was washed, groomed, and dressed in his Sunday best. Because he had been a circuit rider preacher, Mary deferred from giving him a painted face. His arms were folded across his chest and his Bible was firmly in his hands. Her husband and sons wrapped the body in birch bark and hoisted it out the window, the only opening in the soddy, other than the door. The Ojibwa belief was if the body left the home through the front door, its spirit would find its way back inside the house.
The body was laid in a shallow grave under a tall red oak tree, which grew near the soddy. Its leaves were only now beginning to turn from green to the brilliant red and maroon colors of autumn, but soon they would rain down on the gravesite. Temperance’s father loved to take long walks in the woods, so he would feel right at home here. She stood next to her mother as they waited for the ceremony to begin. Her mother wept softly, but Temperance cleared her eyes of their tears. This was a first for her — participating in a traditional Indian burial ritual. Even though her father was a Church of the Brethern minister, he’d held an open mind to other beliefs, and so did she.
The youngest of the Lafontaine sons, Etienne, and Temperance’s sister Prudence took turns banging slowly on a ceremonial drum. Ginger was in attendance as well. Even though she was only a few months away from giving birth, she refused to be confined at home, and stood now by Joseph’s side.
Joseph was dressed in traditional Indian garb. He wore a deerskin shirt, richly embellished with beading down the front. His legs were covered in deerskin breeches, and a loincloth hung at his waist. Several feathers adorned his straight, black hair. Temperance spent a few minutes watching him as he prepared the sacrificial tobacco.
She understood why Ginger had been swept off her feet by him. Joseph in full Indian regalia was a very handsome, exotic man. The paint on his face emphasized his high cheekbones and his dark eyes. His hair hung loosely around his face and came alive as the breeze caught it. He, Mary Tall Feather, and another brother, Gaston, chanted softly as they drew near the grave.
Normally, the offerings to the Spirits would be performed by a high priest of the tribe, or the shaman. But Mary and Emil’s son Raoul, who was studying to become a shaman, was in Canada learning the Ojibwa ways alongside his grandfather. So the privilege fell to the eldest male with Indian blood.
Joseph stood tall at the foot of the grave and spoke in a low tone to Samuel Jones, wishing him well on his journey to the afterlife. He took the tobacco and raised it over his head. He offered it to the gods of the four winds, facing north, south, then east and west as he continued to chant. He completed the offering of the sacrifice to the sun, moon, thunder, and lightning, as well as the Great Spirit. Joseph continued to chant for a few more minutes, joined by Mary Tall Feather and her other sons. As one, they fell silent, along with the drum.
Justice walked forward, into the
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