Donnie Ames was also known as Nantana, one who walks funny, by the people of his tribe. His club foot made the youth walk with a slight limp and doctors had told his parents the lad would remain that way until his foot stopped growing and they could perform the operation necessary to repair his
deformity.
He stared long and hard through misty brown eyes at the most magnanimous eagle he had ever seen, even though it was carved from a piece of wood. Standing on two perfectly shaped, slightly spread, legs this wooden marvel appeared to be the perfect combination of the great golden eagle and the proud bald eagle. In his heart Donnie instantly felt this carving carried the spirit of Wichitata, the spirit eagle, deep inside its body. The three foot outspread wings and the hanging down talons gave the feeling of speed even when this majestic creation was at the stand still.
He had walked into Rupert's store twenty minutes earlier and after carefully looking at or touching several other carvings he stood transfixed by the wooden eagle. Never in his young life had he experienced such innermost feelings. The spirit of the wood silently spoke to him telling him he and the
eagle had become one.
But all he had in his pocket was a five dollar bill and sadly he realized anything as wonderful, as desirable, as this eagle carved by a master artisan would have a value many times that amount. He studied the features of the fantastic bird as carefully as a criminologist scrutinized the area around a crime scene. He discovered the beak was slightly open almost as though it was preparing to lift itself on outspread wings and pluck a huge trout from a
mountain lake.
He jumped in surprise when a hand lightly touched his shoulder.
"Do you like that funny looking bird, Nantana?" A tall, bearded, old man asked.
"That eagle isn't funny looking," quickly came back an answer almost bordering on impoliteness. "That's the most beautiful bird I have ever see and....and how do you know my Indian name?"
"The eagle told me," Rupert answered appearing so serious Donnie almost believed him.
"Eagles don't talk," answered a child's voice. "Would you tell me how much it cost?"
"The price depends on you," Rupert replied with a knowing smile on his face. "That dumb old bird told me you have five dollars in your pocket. Is that correct?"
"Yes," Donnie answered wondering how Rupert knew he had exactly five dollars and reached for his pocket to be sure his money was still there.
"Remove the five dollar bill from your pocket so the eagle can see it and walk over here with me."
Donnie didn't know why but he took out the bill and followed Rupert some twenty feet away.
"Now hold the bill out in front of you."
Donnie still didn't understand but did as he was told.
"If that eagle can fly over here and remove the money from your hand would you take it home and promise to take good care of it."
Donnie's young heart skipped a beat and rose to settle in his throat. He was positive wooden eagles couldn't fly and an old man was playing a joke on him.
"Would you take good care of it?" Rupert asked again.
"Of course I would. Indians are taught to honor and respect all spirit creatures. This one is only wood but I promise I'd take good care of it."
"Then look at my face and blink your eyes."
Again Donnie did as ordered and when he looked at his hand the five dollar bill was gone. His first thought was that Rupert had snatched it from him but when he looked at the eagle the bill was resting in the bird's beak.
"How did you do that?" Donnie asked Rupert with the curiosity of a nine year old.
"I didn't do anything. I don't have the money the eagle does. So now it's yours and you'll have to take it home."
An elated Donnie nearly floated out of the store not quite sure what had just happened to him. He still had his five dollars and a prize wooden eagle that would be the envy of everyone, but more than that he felt he had a powerful Indian Shala; a spirit soul mate. He was amazed that anything as big as his wooden eagle could weigh so little.
Donnie knew his regal bird would turn the head of every being in Old Town Maine, a picturesque little city nestling on a crook of the mighty Penobscot River.
From the day the first Indians roamed the woods, plains, and deserts there had never been anyone prouder of the fact he was a full-blooded Indian than Donnie. And he came from one of the most important Abnaki tribes in all of Maine; the Penobscot tribe. The other tribes, the Malecites, Norridgewock, and Passamaquoddy, didn't compare to his tribe. Not as far as he was concerned.
Now his thoughts were continuously on his new toy. Wouldn't the other kids be surprised and jealous when they first gazed on his new master piece; his splendid eagle. Some of them might even try to take it from him. A valuable prize such as this was something to be desired by everyone.
School had just opened so he took it to show and tell so everyone else could see it and his close friends would even be allowed to touch it. He kept it cover with a cloth until it was time to astound the rest of the students with his great find but when his eagle was uncovered nobody seemed to care. Most
of them had seen carved eagles before. Wasn't Watani ( the one who creates ) the greatest wood carver of all times and didn't the tourist come from far across the country to buy something he had produced with wood and knife.
"How can they be so blind?" Donnie thought to himself that afternoon when school was over and he sat in his bedroom. "I show them the finest bird ever to be carved from wood and they compare it to something Watani has done. His eagles are good but nothing like this one of mine. Can anything Watani carves fly so swiftly it could take a five dollar bill from someone's hand and return to its perch without being heard or seen. To heck with them. I promised to take good care of my bird and I will.
First I've got to find a name suitable for a creature as fast and as beautiful as you and what could be more honorable than Wichitata? The eagle spirit that is faster than sight and lighter than a moon cast shadow. Do you like your new name?"
The great eagle sat in silence.
"What we need is a walk in the woods," Donnie said tenderly taking the eagle in his arms and walking out the back door, across the open field, and into woods beyond. Once hidden from anyone that might see him he placed the eagle's claws in his hands and lifted the splendid bird above his head giving it the appearance of flight. His young body seemed to become one with the wooden bird. He had never been able to move very fast because of the clubfoot but now the wind seemed to blow under the eagle's wing and partially lift him from the ground. He moved faster now than he ever had in his life and his foot didn't hurt. With the help of his new toy and new freedom he wandered far from his home
and soon found himself on the banks of the Penobscot River, many miles upstream. He lingered only a moment taking in the beauty of the area and returned to the point of his origin. The wind lifted the bird, and the lad, a few inches from the ground and swiftly carried them to the opening behind his house. He held the eagle in his hands and went to find his father for someone must know of the magical spirits of this piece of carved wood.
His father smiled deeply when he heard the lad's tale.
"So the eagle lifted you from the ground and returned you here to us did he? What a fantastic eagle he must be to lift you, carry you far away, and return you here in less than twenty minutes."
"But he did," Donnie answered almost in tears because his father didn't believe him.
"I'll tell mom and she'll believe me," Donnie thought to himself. When he told his mother about his trip she answered the same as his father had. Donnie was devastated.
"I'll tell Harold. He's my best friend and he'll believe me." When Donnie found his buddy and told him the story of his flight Harold nearly doubled up with laughter.
"You've been watching too much TV or your dad has been telling you too many stories about Indian spirits. That dumb eagle is only a piece of carved wood and wood doesn't fly," and added with a big laugh, "unless of course you sprinkled it with fairy dust. I wouldn't tell anyone else that your eagle flies,
Donnie. They'll all think you fell out of bed and landed on your head."
"If you think I'm nuts come out to the woods and I'll prove I can fly."
"I think your nuts, Donnie, but I'll go with you just for the fun of it."
When they approached the spot where he had been lifted from the ground by the eagle he took the talons in his hand and lifted the eagle as high in the air as he could, but nothing happened. He tried several time but his eagle never lifted him.
"You know, Donnie," Haddie said "in the old days the great chiefs
smoked their pipes and the spirits sometimes came to them. I'm not sure what you're smoking but you better quit it before your father finds out and tans your fanny."
Donnie was downhearted. He knew the eagle could fly for hadn't he been miraculously lifted from the ground, flown to distant places, and returned safely home. He didn't understand why the spirits would fail him and make him feel so stupid in front of his parents and his friend. He thought he had
better take Harold's advice and keep his mouth shut. Some others might think his quiver was shy a few arrows.
Sly Fox, Harold's Indian name, whistled an old Indian tune he had learned early in life as he separated from his despondent friend and headed back toward town. Donnie lifted the eagle above his head by the talons and in seconds was soaring above the tree tops. The earth passed so fast beneath him it was almost a blur. He was heading away from Old Town and soon found himself flying above Lead Mountain, Peaked Mountain, and minutes later he left the Maine seacoast and flew over a Canadian Island called Grand Manan. Here Wichitata turned back west and carried his owner home. Donnie knew he couldn't tell anyone of his journey and he realized he had an eagle with great spirit power.
That night in his dreams Donnie went back in time to a land that had never known a white man. Back when all his ancestors roamed as free as the deer and their spirits intermingled with the creature spirits. Once more he flew high and far and as he soared over the heads of the earth bound humans he sang these magic words.
flying so high.
Circling the Universe
on wings of pure light.
Fly high and fly fast
Mighty Wichitata
When he awoke in the morning he took the eagle in his arms and headed for the weald across the open field. He could hardly wait to be carried aloft by his enchanted toy. As before, once he lifted the eagle skyward, his feet departed earth and he arose into the firmament as lightly as a thought. The earth passed beneath his feet and he traveled over mountains, streams and lakes, and studied the ground below from his heavenly view. Soon Wichitata reversed his direction and Donnie was being flown home.
Every moment he wasn't flying he was thinking about it and wondered why the Great Spirits had allowed him to possess such a gift. It couldn't possibly be just a toy. Spirits were all-knowing and shared themselves only when it was necessary to help someone in the tribe. He was being helped because when he was lifted from the ground his foot didn't hurt, but that was not reason enough for the creation of such a spirit toy. He would have to wait and see what things were in store for him and his precious gift.
Weeks passed and every day Donnie spent as much time with his spirit brother as possible. One Wednesday morning, long before sunrise, Donnie was awakened by his desire to fly. He donned his clothes, cuddled the eagle under his arm, and headed for the woods; but never made it. The eagle slipped from his arm and rose slightly into the air. Donnie grabbed the claws, as he had done so many times before, and in the open field the eagle became airborne carrying Donnie with him. Wichitata didn't rise to his usual heights but sped along mere feet above the trees.
Twenty five miles from Donnie's home the eagle stopped and remained still in the air. A few feet ahead of Donnie the spirit God of Lightning thrust a bolt of fire into the forest and in moments the dry woods were ablaze with killing heat. Then the Spirit God of the Winds blew gently at first, but shortly increased his breath until the blaze became enormous, and headed for Old Town. Now Donnie knew why he had been given the gift. He must hurry back and warn the town that the blaze was coming and would soon burn their homes to the ground. But how? He couldn't possible cover all the town before the blaze was upon them and who was going to believe a child that thought wooden eagles could fly.
When he neared the open field Wichitata started his descent and once more became only a carved eagle. Donnie ran to his house just as his father was coming down the stairs from his bedroom.
"Quick, Dad, we've got to warn the town that a blaze is coming this way that will destroy the town unless they do something right now."
"Why do you think a fire is coming this way, Donnie? I don't smell any smoke or see any flames."
"You will shortly and we've got to warn the rest of the people."
"How do you know a blaze is coming?"
"Wichitata carried me there and I saw the lightning strike and ignite the trees."
"You and that stupid toy...." but before he could complete his sentence the eagle in Donnie's hands rose and lifted Donnie inches off the floor.
Mr. Ames had heard stories of old how some young Indian bucks were chosen by the Spirit Gods because their hearts were pure and they believed all things were possible and now he was seeing a manifestation of this gift in his son. He knew Donnie had been chosen by the Great Spirit and that his toy was indeed enchanted.
"Have your toy take you to the fire station and tell them what is happening. I'll get on the phone and call as many people as I can."
Wichitata lowered Donnie to the floor and once they were outside lifted him into the air again and soon he was carrying him over the center of the city and directly to the fire station. Nobody had seen Donnie arrive because one of the fire trucks had a flat tire and three of the firemen were nearly finished changing it.
"There's a big fire headed this way and should be in town within half an hour."
The firemen turned to Donnie and laughed.
"We haven't heard about any fire."
"How do you know there's a fire? You haven't been playing with matches have you?" one of the firemen teased. Everyone thought it was funny except Donnie.
He held the eagle in the air and as his feet left the ground he said, "I saw the flames and they're coming this way fast. I'm going to warn the rest of the town and I suggest you get every truck possible to the north east side before it's too late."
Once more Donnie lifted the wooden eagle heavenward and instantly was flying twenty feet above the center of town.
"If you look in the direction I'm pointing to you can see the glow of the fire in the distance. You had better hurry though there isn't much time."
The firemen rushed into the street and seeing the glow in the northeast sounded the alarm and were soon preparing to do battle with the biggest, hottest, forest fire ever to invade the state of Maine.
It was still early in the morning and the town was asleep except for a very few early risers. Donnie's voice was not strong enough to awaken everyone so Wichitata carried him to the houses where the lights were shining out into the early dawn.
"Spread the word there's a big forest fire heading toward us."
Soon every street in Old Town was alive with people looking into the sky watching Donnie being carried by his eagle, or they heading for the fire department to see how they could assist. Now the odor of smoke was detectable and in the near distance the flames could be seen heading toward town. The construction crews headed all their ground-moving equipment to the northeast and under the guidance of the fire chief started building a fire wall to prevent the fire from entering the city.
One truck was held in reserve in case the fire broke through the barricade and entered the town and a call had been put through to Orono to help with fire fighting equipment. A call was also made to Milford to warn them of the oncoming disaster. Slowly the flames neared the town destroying everything in its path. The roar became almost deafening as it drew closer and the heat was unbearable. The fire wall was nearly finished as the flames swept up to it and the small area of land that was left unprotected was controlled by the fire trucks.
Donnie and Wichitata soared above the flames, away from the heat, and watched as the flames were extinguished. When the last spark from the fire had lost its glow the flying pair headed for home. As they neared the main street someone yelled at him and Donnie looked up to see Wichitata was ablaze. An ember had settled on his wooden back and the ancient dry wood had ignited. It required all the magical power the eagle had to land Donnie safely. Once the lad was standing on solid ground, and had laid his eagle down, it erupted with a burst of heat and in moments was just a pile of ashes.
The next morning in school everyone congratulated the town's greatest hero and everyone was talking about how close they had come to disaster. A town meeting had been called and at ten o'clock as many of the town's populace as possible filled the school's auditorium. Donnie wasn't surprised to see his parents there but was curious at the attendance of the elders of the Penobscot tribe. The Chief rose when Donnie entered and asked him to come to the podium. Donnie was shy and his heart was beating a mile a minute as he approached the great chief.
"Nantana," the chief began, "always a brave must earn any great Indian name bestowed upon him and from this day on you will be known as Wichitata because you fly with the eagles. I'm proud to give you this headdress made from the feathers of the mighty bird." As he finished speaking he walked to Donnie and placed the feathery headdress on the youth. Roars bounced from the rafters and echoed throughout the auditorium as every person in the room stood and applauded the young Indian brave who had soared with eagles and saved a town.
