Read Online Birth of the Wolf (Wahaya) by J. B. Peterson - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: J. B. Peterson
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skin above it was reddened and swollen. As much as he hated to, Dave opened the foot binding. Abbie’s foot was swollen and the beginnings of infection were visible. He used the last of the tiny can of spray local anesthetic in his first aid kit, and then as gently as he could, he opened the cut on her foot with his last sealed surgical razor blade.
He gently debrided the reddened flesh and flushed it with the last of his hydrogen peroxide. The triple antibiotic ointment tube was nearly empty as well, but he applied the last of it and tied a field compress around it. There was plenty of time before they would have to move, so he elevated her foot and advised the ladies to take a rest in place.
The top of the draw was only about four hundred meters uphill, and Dave figured to make his recon for possible LZs (landing zone, a reasonably flat area clear for a fifty meter circle with a less than seven degree slope) later in the day.
He never should have allowed himself to sit down after taking care of Abbie. He was not a bad enough soldier to let himself fall asleep but he was in enough of a daze that when the Indians approached, he didn’t notice them until they were on him.
Dave never saw the warrior who hit him from behind with the thick wooden club, he only saw the lights go out.
Chapter 7
The Aguaruna (they call themselves Awajun, or, “the people”) Indians of Peru are a proud race. The Incas, the Spanish, and all the ruling classes since had tried to subdue them and had failed miserably.
It was a tradition among the young warriors upon coming of age to visit the ruins at the foot of the draw and take aja'waska, a pychotropic drug manufactured from the caapi vine. The purpose of the drug use was to give them visions which would help them to determine their path in life.
It was an event of great importance. They were very uncertain what type of omen it might be to have found four whites at their sacred site. Their first urge was to kill the whites and drag their bodies into the forest, but the Shaman, whose name was Zeev, insisted that they simply be taken outside the ruins and guarded until he could consult the spirits.
The young men obeyed their shaman, and the ones not actively engaged in guarding the prisoners set about purifying the site for the ceremonies, which they would have had to do in any case.
The young men, shirtless, barefoot, and dressed only in the long legged Bermuda type shorts that they wore for daily work, carried heavy traditional spears hand fashioned by themselves to the ceremony. They followed an ancient purification ceremony, even older than the ruins themselves, and they revered the shaman.
The Shaman said his prayers in a loud and confident voice for such an ancient appearing man. None of the young men knew how old the Shaman was, and even Dave would have been shocked to know that this Shaman had conducted this rite at this site more than one hundred times as an adult. He himself did not remember how many times he had attended as a young man and as an apprentice to the Shaman of his youth.
The Shaman’s prayers stopped, and Dave came back to full consciousness as the Shaman drank from a dipper which had been filled in a cauldron sized gourd set down on a large semi squared stone they were using as an altar.
The Shaman took powders from various pouches on the belt he was wearing, taking his time measuring and pinching the powders and casting them into the small fire that was burning in front of him. Some of the powders flared or sparked, and some released small clouds of fragrance.
After several minutes, the Shaman nodded to a young man, younger than the rest and who carried no spear, and the dipper was refilled and brought to him. The Shaman ceremoniously sipped from the dipper until it was empty. The old man held his arms to his side and began to chant. He seemed to lose his chain of thought, and he began to bobble and weave, as if he was drunk.
He gently debrided the reddened flesh and flushed it with the last of his hydrogen peroxide. The triple antibiotic ointment tube was nearly empty as well, but he applied the last of it and tied a field compress around it. There was plenty of time before they would have to move, so he elevated her foot and advised the ladies to take a rest in place.
The top of the draw was only about four hundred meters uphill, and Dave figured to make his recon for possible LZs (landing zone, a reasonably flat area clear for a fifty meter circle with a less than seven degree slope) later in the day.
He never should have allowed himself to sit down after taking care of Abbie. He was not a bad enough soldier to let himself fall asleep but he was in enough of a daze that when the Indians approached, he didn’t notice them until they were on him.
Dave never saw the warrior who hit him from behind with the thick wooden club, he only saw the lights go out.
Chapter 7
The Aguaruna (they call themselves Awajun, or, “the people”) Indians of Peru are a proud race. The Incas, the Spanish, and all the ruling classes since had tried to subdue them and had failed miserably.
It was a tradition among the young warriors upon coming of age to visit the ruins at the foot of the draw and take aja'waska, a pychotropic drug manufactured from the caapi vine. The purpose of the drug use was to give them visions which would help them to determine their path in life.
It was an event of great importance. They were very uncertain what type of omen it might be to have found four whites at their sacred site. Their first urge was to kill the whites and drag their bodies into the forest, but the Shaman, whose name was Zeev, insisted that they simply be taken outside the ruins and guarded until he could consult the spirits.
The young men obeyed their shaman, and the ones not actively engaged in guarding the prisoners set about purifying the site for the ceremonies, which they would have had to do in any case.
The young men, shirtless, barefoot, and dressed only in the long legged Bermuda type shorts that they wore for daily work, carried heavy traditional spears hand fashioned by themselves to the ceremony. They followed an ancient purification ceremony, even older than the ruins themselves, and they revered the shaman.
The Shaman said his prayers in a loud and confident voice for such an ancient appearing man. None of the young men knew how old the Shaman was, and even Dave would have been shocked to know that this Shaman had conducted this rite at this site more than one hundred times as an adult. He himself did not remember how many times he had attended as a young man and as an apprentice to the Shaman of his youth.
The Shaman’s prayers stopped, and Dave came back to full consciousness as the Shaman drank from a dipper which had been filled in a cauldron sized gourd set down on a large semi squared stone they were using as an altar.
The Shaman took powders from various pouches on the belt he was wearing, taking his time measuring and pinching the powders and casting them into the small fire that was burning in front of him. Some of the powders flared or sparked, and some released small clouds of fragrance.
After several minutes, the Shaman nodded to a young man, younger than the rest and who carried no spear, and the dipper was refilled and brought to him. The Shaman ceremoniously sipped from the dipper until it was empty. The old man held his arms to his side and began to chant. He seemed to lose his chain of thought, and he began to bobble and weave, as if he was drunk.
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