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«That’s right, Yotkhee. And you are the one who will lead our people. You are young, which means you’re strong enough for this journey. You are wise, which means you won’t stray from the way shown by the spirits. You will be able to take our people to the Land of the Dead. Only there life will be good and peaceful. And you must remember that even if, on the way, you are tempted to stop and stay in some other rich and pleasant land, you must not yield to temptation but press on!»
The old man let out a heavy sigh and looked down at the fire.
«But why have the spirits chosen that particular land to take us to?» the boy asked.
«There is a beautiful lake there. It is the favorite lake of the Great Num. He keeps that land with special care. He will help our good people to survive the Great Trouble. The lake gives birth to many rivers, and its islands are the Great Num’s heart and eyes. The lake is shaped just like the body of our Great Creator. That’s how you will know you have come to the right place and can finally settle down and live a long and happy life.»
The old man paused again and turned to look at the fire.
«O Wise Healer, why do you keep saying «you’ and not «we’? Are you not coming with us?»
«I am too old to live in that land, and our spirits are waiting for me. After I teach you everything I know and see you off on your journey, I will go up to the top of our beloved mountain and fly away to the world of our ancestors.»
Yotkhee must have been smart enough to see how silly it would be to argue with the wise old man and to try to talk him out of the decision he had made.
«We will miss you, O Good Teacher,» he said quietly, looking down on the ground.
«We have had a grand life together! And who knows what good works await us in the future,» said the shaman with a serene smile. «And now, Son, go grab a jug from my tent and run up to top of our sacred hill, where the blue stream comes out of the ground. Fill the jug with fresh, cool, living water and bring it back here.»
Without asking any more questions, the boy quickly jumped up, got the jug, and raced up the hill. As he ran, marvelous birds sang to him from the thick branches, green leaves rustled in cheerful greeting, and the sun’s rays pierced the dense foliage, sparkling merrily on small stones and lighting up the boy’s path as if showing him the way.
The stream with clear blue water was singing a happy song, winding its way around big and small stones and massive tree roots. Yotkhee carefully filled the jug and sprinted back. The old shaman was still at his fire, patiently waiting for his return.
«Thank you,» he said, taking the jug with both hands. «And now I am going to speak sacred words over the water, and all my knowledge will pass into it.»
The wise teacher closed his eyes and, holding the jug right before his face, started whispering something over the living water. It didn’t take long. He then handed the jug over to the boy and said:
«Now drink this water. But first close your eyes and, as you drink, think only of the most beautiful things you have seen here in our land. Think only of what is good and true.»
The jug was only a little bigger than the mug the boy’s father used each morning to have his first hot, fragrant, and refreshing drink of the day, and the boy downed it in one gulp.
«Don’t open your eyes!» the old man said urgently. «Sit still for a bit.»
The boy’s imagination came alive with pictures, one after another, swiftly rushing before his mind’s eye, faster and faster, until he couldn’t even discern what they were. After a while they slowed down and finally stopped. Yotkhee saw a lake, the very lake the shaman had told him about. Then, suddenly, he heard a deep low voice from somewhere within himself. The voice said:
«When you bring the people to my lake, you must put shrines on the islands so that I could speak to you through them.»
«It was the Great Num speaking to you,» said the old shaman and smiled.
The boy opened his eyes and looked at him.
«See, our gods have accepted you. Our good spirits will help you on your difficult journey. You must bring our people to their new land.»
«I will,» said his young apprentice with confidence. He raised his eyes and looked up to the vast blue sky and beyond, to the great unknown that was waiting for them all. When he turned his gaze back to his teacher, he looked grave and thoughtful.
«Tell me something, O Wise Teacher,» said Yotkhee to the shaman. «Why did you ask me to drink the water?»
«Water holds the whole of history, my son,» replied the shaman. «And not just of our people.»
«The whole history? All of it?» the boy’s eyes opened wide in astonishment.
«Yes, all of it,» nodded the old man. «And the purer the water, the better it can pour its secret treasures into your memory. Water can heal. Water can also kill. Some water is living water. You had some of it from my jug. There is also water that is dead water. This is the water you kill when you heat it up over your morning fires and then drink hot from your mugs. But dead water can also heal.»
«How?» asked his young student with interest.
«It can wash the body to make it clean. It can clean the wounds to make them heal faster. On your way to the Land of the Dead you will meet a good people who have built special houses for this purpose. Once in every seven suns and seven moons they go in there to wash their bodies, first with dead and then with living water. It makes the body strong, so that no sickness can come into it.»
Yotkhee was silent, trying to understand. Then, from somewhere inside his shirt, the wise healer took out a small reed pipe. He balanced it on his palm for a bit, as if trying to decide something, and then held it out to the boy.
«Here, take this. When the going gets tough, take it out and play. The good spirits will hear the music and come to you with wise counsel. Just close your eyes and listen, listen carefully to the voice inside.»
«Thank you, O Good Teacher,» said the boy. He took the pipe and examined it with great attention.
«Well, tomorrow we’ll have to start getting ready,» said the old shaman and added: «We need to tell everyone to get ready and prepare well for the long journey. The Spirit of Light has already touched the tops of our trees.»
Soon Yotkhee, holding the shaman’s reed pipe close to his chest, was skipping down the path that led between the hills to the river which was close where his family lived. He loved the river. It was quiet and peaceful, and he could simply sit on the bank and think.
So many thoughts were now swarming in his head! It was heartbreaking to know that he would have to say goodbye to the place where he’d grown up. And how could he possibly imagine that soon all this beauty would disappear under the great waters? And all his ancestors will remain here too!
As he was nearing the tepees, Yotkhee saw Edeine who had just come out of her tent. She had brought out a tiny puppy which was now yawning and stretching, basking in the warm morning sun. Edeine and Yotkhee had been neighbors and good friends all their lives.
«Here, Edeine, come with me!» said Yotkhee, running up to her and trying to keep his voice low. «Come quick!»
«Where to?» she asked, surprised.
But the boy had already grabbed her hand and started pulling her behind him. She barely had time to catch up with her puppy and was now holding it tight, running after her friend. The children sped down forest paths and then up a familiar low hill until they found themselves near a fallen tree.
«Now sit down and listen!» cried Yotkhee excitedly.
Edeine put the puppy in her lap and stared at her friend in mild bewilderment.
Yotkhee put the reed pipe to his lips and started playing a soft tune. As soon as the music began, a doe with her fawn came out from behind the thick bushes on the opposite bank and stopped at the water, lifting its left front leg slightly and perking up its ears to listen to the song. Several noble-looking swans delicately glided onto the clear blue water, gently spreading their large wings.
The girl and her puppy didn’t know where to look: it was all so marvelous! Suddenly all around them there were myriads of tiny sparkling rainbow-colored stars gently floating in the clear morning air and settling down on tree branches, flowers, and berries.
«See, Edeine,» said the boy when he stopped playing. «These are our good spirits. They’ve come to visit us.»
«Really?» the girl asked in astonishment.
«We can’t see them, but they are here all the same. This is our old shaman’s magic pipe. He gave it to me,» explained Yotkhee.
«It is all so beautiful!» Edeine cried in delight. She was holding his hands, palms up, towards the sky, trying to catch the bright little sparks which kept coming from somewhere above and gently alighted on the children’s hair, shoulders, clothes, cheeks, and eyelashes, tickling them a little, so they both laughed happily and wrinkled their noses.
«I think though,» said Yotkhee seriously, «that one shouldn’t just play this pipe for fun. We shouldn’t bother the spirits without a reason.»
«Aaww, that’s too bad,» said Edeine with regret. «I could listen to this wonderful music all day long!»
«Don’t worry,» said Yotkhee, trying to comfort her. «I will try to make a pipe just like this one and will play for you whenever you like.»
The girl suddenly felt a little self-conscious. She tilted her head and gave Yotkhee a kind, sweet smile.
By next morning everyone was ready to start on their long journey.
«Let some of our strongest men lead the way,» said the old shaman. «They must be ready to protect and defend the women and children.»
He was standing in the middle of a large circle: all the families of the camp had gathered around him to hear his last words to them. The people’s faces were clouded with anxiety, sadness, and even fear of what lay ahead, but everyone was hanging on to the wise old man’s every word.
«Then, after the men, our new little vydu’tana will follow. Please remember that he is your wise healer now, and he will be the one to lead you to your new land.»
Everyone nodded in approval, and all the children beamed: they loved Yotkhee because he always had time for them, playing their games and telling them all sorts of fascinating stories which he either had heard from grown-ups or made up on the spot. He often took them to the river and taught them to swim in the clear blue water, all radiant in the rays of the Spirit of Light.
Edeine was there too, with her puppy as usual. She was the middle daughter of the tribe’s chief, and her parents had long ago agreed with Yotkhee’s parents that their children were betrothed[22 - Nenets families sometimes promise their children to each other in marriage when they are still quite young. Once the betrothed come of age, they get married.] and would get married when they came of age.
«Women and children will walk in the middle,» continued the shaman. «They will be followed by strong men who will defend and protect them from any danger.»
Then the shaman turned to the young vydu’tana:
«And remember, Yotkhee: you must only go in the direction which your own shadow or the shadows of trees will show you at noon, when the Spirit of Light is right in between Ilibembertya[23 - Ilibembertya (Nen.) – the spirit of light, the spirit of the East.] and Nga[24 - Nga (Nen.) – the spirit of darkness, the spirit of the West.] and right behind your back.»
It didn’t take long to put everyone where they belonged, according to what the old shaman had said. It was time to say the final farewell. Everyone fell silent. Only birds kept chirping in the trees, and green leaves rustled in the soft morning wind.
«Farewell, our dear, beloved homeland! We will always remember you. Thank you for everything. One day we will see you again!»
The young shaman spoke these words, and they were immediately echoed by the others in low, broken voices:
«Farewell, our dear homeland! Farewell! Goodbye!…»
The people slowly turned and, still in silence, started walking towards the land of Ngherm.[25 - Ngherm (Nen.) – the spirit of cold, the spirit of the North.] They could not know how much hardship and how many trials would meet them on the way.
When they made it through the forest that fringed their camp and walked into an open green valley, Yotkhee turned around. Their old wise teacher was standing on the top of the sacred hill, tall and strong. His white clothes were clearly visible against the deep green of the woods. He was standing next to a massive tree, gazing after his people who were leaving for an unknown land. Yotkhee waved his outstretched arms in farewell, and everyone else stopped, turned around, and waved back. The old shaman raised his right hand high and smiled in response. He was finally at peace: he felt certain now that his people would be safe, that they would not perish in the Great Water, and that someday they would all see each other again.
Edeine was walking next to her mother and sisters, holding her puppy tight. The little dog was one of the litter that their faithful grey Bura had brought them about thirty moons ago. Bura was right here, too, running along with everyone else; every now and again she skipped ahead and looked up at Edeine to make sure her little one was safe and sound.
The people kept marching in dejected silence, looking down at their feet and thinking about the land they were leaving behind, their good old life, and their good old shaman who was now all alone.
Suddenly Edeine lifted her eyes from the path and looked at the trees and sky with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. She was a great storyteller and easily made up all sorts of songs and tales. She raised her puppy above her head and started singing merrily, dancing and twirling as her sweet little voice carried the cheerful tune.
Through the woods on we go,
To the land that we don’t know.
Sunshine’s bright and merry ray,
Guide us, guide us on our way!
Down the path we march along,
With a happy marching song.
Chirping birds, rustling grass,
Water’s babbling song,
Valley road, mountain pass —
Our journey’s long.
Keep your strength and from the start
Spark a fire inside your heart!
The people quickly caught up the lively melody, and it seemed to make the walking a little easier. The children started noticing lovely flowers by the roadside. The grownups’ faces brightened, their backs straightened, and soon they started grinning, finally remembering that they were supposed to show their young ones how to bear long and arduous journeys bravely and cheerfully.
Time wore on. The children were running about and playing games, while their parents kept a slow but steady pace, looking at the scenery around them with curious attention. Towards the evening, when the sun was nearing the horizon and seemed to almost touch the thick green treetops, the adults put the younger children on their shoulders, as they were too tired to walk on. The older children kept dashing back and forth, playing tag, and weaving their way between the grownups.
Suddenly everyone heard a loud cry from up front.
«Halt! It’s a river. Let’s make camp!»
Soon even those who were bringing up the rear found themselves on the low flat bank of a river that lay in their way. The river wasn’t very broad or very deep, but they still needed to stop and think of how to best cross it.
The elders told the adults to go and gather some wood for the fire. There were plenty of tall pines, birch trees, and aspen trees in the forest they had been walking through, so dry dead-wood would be very easy to find. The children were supposed to find stones to frame the campfires, to keep the flames from the grass.
It quickly got dark, and the place was quiet. The birds seemed to be down for the night, and even the frolicsome little wind had taken itself off to get some rest up in his mountain abode, so not a single leaf was stirring.
For supper everyone had their fill of delicious mushrooms, fried over the campfire, and plenty of fresh cold water from the river. It was time to settle down and go to sleep.
«Look!» said one of the elders pointing down the river. «It flows straight towards Ngherm’s land, which is exactly where we need to go. While the weather is good and the river isn’t frozen, we could go down on rafts. Our children can’t walk as fast and long as we need to go.»
«Hear, hear!» exclaimed eager voices on all sides.
«The elder is right!» echoed others.
«This way we will get to the new land much faster!» cried yet more people.
«Then tomorrow we will start building rafts,» said the first elder, raising his hand to ask for silence. «Let’s get some rest now and start the work first thing in the morning.»
The elders decided that in the morning a few of them would walk along the river and see if there was a ford anywhere near so that they could simply wade across. The others would start making rafts for everyone.
The big campfire started dying down, and the red-hot coals cast a warm bright glow on the faces around the fire and the trees behind. The children were the first to drop off to sleep, and their mothers put them close to the dying fires, tucking them under warm animal hides and snuggling down next to them.
«What is there, beyond the river?» the older men around the fire kept asking themselves. «And how many more rivers will there be? What if we come across a tall mountain range?» No one knew, and there were no answers. They had never ventured so far from their land and knew nothing about this place.
As the last deep-orange gleams of the setting sun finally flickered out, a soft dark night descended on the tired travelers. Birds were asleep in their nests, and beasts were quiet in their holes. Not a whisper of wind moved the tiny flames over the glowing coals, and wispy strands of smoke were floating straight up, melting into the velvety darkness, while stars, big and small, glittered up high in the deep vaulted vastness, forming mysterious patterns of unfathomable beauty.
The only sounds in the complete and utter silence of the night were the quiet crackling of the fire and the tiny whimper of Edeine’s puppy. It wouldn’t go to sleep and kept fidgeting and whining, so Edeine started singing softly, gently rocking her little pet in her arms.
Hush-a-bye, my darling sweet,
