My name is Husananin Mountain Spirit. I am a Tellegewi of North Island.

Not all of my ancestors died at Sand Island across the “Western Sea”. My grandfather of forty generations ago led a courageous remnant of us Tallegewi to the eastern shore of Turtle Island. Then, being sorely pressed by our enemies, we took refuge and hope of survival in our legends of Madoc of Wales, who represented half of our heritage.

The other half was what remained of a tribe of ancient Red Family who, themselves had a heritage of a mysterious descendancy from a great Red Spiritual Leader named Husananin Onomonolonton. This part of my heritage called their selves the “ChikaOnomonolontons”…the Children of Ononmonolonton.

These two people’s life paths met and converged to become what I am today…a Tallegewi…the “flows together people”.

My forefathers built large, strong canoes, packed their belongings and what was left of the Tallegewi and with strong determined arms and shoulders, launched eastward in search of the legendary land of our beginnings. We were finished on Turtle Island. The Haudenosaunee would have none of us there.

One hundred and twenty of my ancestors began that journey. Only fifty of them saw land again and it was not the land they sought. For eleven months they struggled with the sea and its demons and rejoiced completely when their worn and battered vessels ground to a solid halt on this land. They limped and crawled inland from the beach of their delivery and it was a long time before they could bear to even look at the sea again. Even today, we are not comfortable near it…let alone on it.

We have become masters of this solid earth. We prosper in its vast bounty. We number three thousand in seven mounded and irrigated villages located near the mountains in the eastern part of this great land. Our crops are bountiful and our hunting couldn’t be better. We have built a well balanced society based on equality and responsibility. This land was the answer to our ancient prayers for a home to live good lives in.

I am six foot tall, massively built, but can move like a Panther. My hair is black. My eyes are deep dark blue and my skin stays a rich bronze color from my life in the blessed sun of this good land. I have many scars from our animal brothers, but none given by Human hands or weapons. My worst scar is just below my left collarbone, where a powerful buck white tail deer sought my heart with its sharp antlers, in its bid for survival. It is the animals of this land that have given us our fighting skills. They are great teachers that will kill those who fail their tests.

I am mild of temper and love deep thought and exploration of thought. I am good at organizing my people for large unusual projects. I am also good at “reading” the character of a person. The councils will be selecting a progeny mate for me soon, but sex is not thought bad of here among the unmarried. Pregnancy out of wedlock does not happen thanks to our healers.

I was elected “Huchasha”, chief advisor to the people, by all the councils of our tribe. These councils are The Men Elders, The Wise Women, The Best of the Best Warriors, The Two Spirits and The Children of Promise. We all listen with respect to our Medicine and Holy Persons as well.

Until now, only one other people shared this realm with us. They are the “Green Holymen”, some one hundred gentle and peaceful men and women who all have the same last name and pale skins... more than ours. They arrived only a few years ago, on the southeast shore, and have built a strong village of stone in the cliffs facing a river that goes into the sea there. We have always been at peace with them and our two peoples have exchanged much of value and worth. It seems that they too have fled from powerful enemies. They are much better on the sea than we and spend much of their waking hours in contact with the Spiritual World that is companion to ours.

A strange thing has happened. One of our groups of hunters on the Northern Plains heard a strange booming sound to the north. It was very distant and dimly audible, but it came in a perfectly clear and sunny morning sky. They sent four of their seven men back with the meat harvest and the other three went to investigate the strange sound.

In two days they had returned with news of their findings. They couldn’t say exactly what made the booming sound, but they had found where it had come from…and who it came from. There, is now, a third people on this land. We will observe them to learn more about them for a while. Before we reach out to them in friendship.

These changes seem strange to me.

Husananin Mountain Spirit


“Husananin takes a look”

As soon as my harvest duties are done enough to permit a break, I and two of my best friends, Chilookoo and Bayees, journey south to see unseen the newcomers. Upon our foreheads is our sign of peace and peaceful intentions rendered in fine white clay.

We feel and have seen signs of strife among them. The first scouts reported that the day after the booming sound, these new people were busy near the sea burying human bodies and erecting a large mound over it. They moved and acted with sadness. I wonder what happened that so many had to die? I am glad to hear that they have become peaceful now. Like the “Green Monks” they practice fighting a lot, but don’t actually get into fights. This is good.

No more booming sounds have issued from them, but they have been very busy. They too are harvesting, what I think, is their first crop. It is mostly some kind of grain, much smaller than our maize and corn. We borrowed some samples of it and watch to see if we can learn how they process it for food. They are growing some interesting new vegetables as well, but we have not “borrowed” any of these. We plan to trade for them when the time comes.

They have a strange material with them. It is hard and black and shaped into different things of usefulness in their lives. One of these things makes a loud pop and they seem to be hunting with it. This is good for us, because we can hear them if they come our way. It is some kind of magic. They point it at game and make the pop and the game falls down. But sometimes the magic fails and the game runs away. I would like to have a better look at this material and magic stick. It is most curious a thing.

Their village is different than ours, but they seem secure and sheltered in it. Their irrigation work is cruder than ours, but I think this is because they were in a hurry to catch the growing season. I think this will improve.

Oh, I love their music. It is so merry. Unseen in the darkness, I and my friends, would dance to it at night as they played to relax. We did this for several nights. This is delightful.

They are sending out more hunting parties than normal. Probably beginning to stock up meat for the “White Time”. We had better withdraw from their area. Besides we have our own work to do.

Husananin Mountain Spirit