The Transfer of Life

It was the perfect day to hunt. The leaves had just started to fall, the air was crisp and smelled faintly of honey crisp apples. This time of year was perfect for hunting, as it was much easier to navigate, the sound of leaves being stepped on often meaning that supper was near. It takes a lot of patience to succeed during a hunt, not uncommon to go home empty-handed. However, it is crucial to bring home meat during the fall months, as winter is approaching dangerously near. A winter without enough meat is a death sentence, and Tokala is not willing to see that happen. Tokala is the chief of the goose tribe, the most powerful among them all. It is his responsibility to make sure his fellow tribemates make it through the winter, especially since the other tribes are not so generous when it comes to food during this time of year. 

 All of a sudden, the sound of leaves being crushed can be heard within a short distance of Chief Tokala. He looks up to see a magnificent deer standing just a few feet in front of him. Grabbing an arrow from beside him, he gets ready to take a shot with his bow. He lines up his shot to ensure that the deer will die immediately, and so the meat will not be tarnished. Slowly pulling back his arrow,  he is about to conquer the beast.

“Chief Tokala, it’s happening! You have to get back now!” 

The chief is startled by the noise and shoots the arrow into the ground a few feet away from the deer.  Noticing this commotion, the deer bolts back into the woods for protection. The chief looks over at the now revealed Yuma and gives him a piercing glare.

“This better be good, or you’re going to be responsible for the number of people that deer could have fed.” He picks up his bow and starts running back to where he came from. 

The chief was determined to get back to his village in record-breaking time, his wife and soon to be child waiting for him there. He knew that his wife was very close to having their child, but the threat of having a dangerously low meat supply was too important to ignore. He still feels a pit in his stomach about him potentially missing his first child’s birth.  After all, somebody has to take over the tribe one day after he is gone, and his child will be the first one in line. 

“Yuma, how long ago did she start having contractions?” The chief murmurs under his breath, pausing to breathe during the sprint back home. Chief Tokala is not exactly built like a runner. He is a solid 270 pounds and utilizes walking as his main source of transportation. His solid black hair that goes down to his shoulders sways in the wind as he continued to get closer and closer to his village.

“Not too long. I found out right as it started happening, and immediately left to deliver the news.” Yuma said. He was much smaller than Chief Tokala. He could not have been any taller than 5’6”. He had brown straight hair that went all the way down to his eyes, looking like an insect compared to the chief, who towered a foot higher than him.  

“Good. I don’t know what I would do if I wasn’t there for the birth of my firstborn.” 

Yuma looks up at the chief and starts to see a tear stream down his face. This is the first time he had ever seen the chief cry, but depending on how things transpire at home, it very well may be the last. 

Yuma was informed by some of the tribe members taking care of the chief’s wife, Odina, that she was experiencing some complications. It was not looking great when he left to get the chief, suddenly fearful that she may not survive childbirth. Yuma did not tell Chief Tokala this however, not wanting him to worry about anything else besides the birth of his firstborn. However, Yuma cannot imagine the guilt that he would feel if he did not warn Chief Tokala of his wife’s condition. 

The sound of screaming could be heard throughout the village, the entire tribe congregating outside of the chief’s home. Inside was his wife, Odina. accompanied by two other female tribe members who were trying to comfort her and relieve some of the pains of childbirth. There were a variety of herbs and broths laying on a table in front of Odina. Many of the ingredients used were found right outside of the village, having been used by the tribe for generations to ease pain and help women during childbirth. However, by the sound of the screaming, it seemed as though the pain wasn’t going away. 

“I don’t know if I can handle this pain much longer. Something must be wrong, it shouldn’t hurt this much.” Odina looks over at the two women for answers, but they were just as confused as she was. All they knew was something wasn’t right, and she was dealing with excruciating pain. 

“I know it hurts, Odina, but I need you to keep drinking the broth we have.  Keep pushing as hard as you can. The longer it takes, the more pain you will have to endure.” One of the other women taking care of Odina holds her hand as she continues to give her the herbs. 

“I’m trying…” Odina says to the two women before taking a big breath and exhaling, followed by a piercing scream that ripped throughout the village and beyond. 

“You made it! Your wife is…” The individual starts talking as Chief Tokala pushes past him and rushes towards the location of his wife. He sees the entire tribe waiting outside and starts shoving people to the side to see what was happening. In front of his home were the two women that were taking care of his wife. One of them holding a blanket in her arms, a tiny head popping out of the end. The chief immediately runs towards the blanket and holds it close to his heart. The child looks up at the chief and reaches for his face.

“Where is Odina?” The chief looks over at the other woman, who immediately points her eye in the direction of the ground. She continues doing so for a few seconds before looking at the chief directly in his eyes.

“Chief Tokala, your wife died during childbirth. We are so sorry.”

  The chief looks past the woman and rushes into his home to see his wife. All he could see was a blanket on his bed covering her. 

The deer wasn’t the only thing Chief Tokala lost today.

Over time, the chief learned how to deal with the loss of his wife, Odina. It took a long time, but he finally felt strong enough to go on hunts again. He decided to name his son, Shawnee, which translates to ‘deer’ in his language. He wanted his son to be able to run away when confronted with danger, while also wanting him to be a skilled hunter, so he could provide for the tribe just as his father has done for a lifetime. The goose tribe looks a little different without Odina, but they continue to push forward, such is the transfer of life.