The Bird is Gone: A Manifesto

Indian Burn

IINDIAN BURN This was a long time ago. Well, seven years, maybe eight. It was the Moon of the Popping Bud. So maybe January or February or April or September or October or December or November or March or Mayor August, June or July. The sound a can makes when it opens, right? Anyway, Bacteen wasn't even drinking this day, which made him notice how hungry he was. He was wearing his Big Chief war shirt with all the bullet holes in it and chewing some White Man. He could hardly talk around it even, and 1'inally took it out and rolled it into the arms and legs and hump of a 76 I STEPHEN GRAHAM JONES buffalo, then buried it and made a fire over it. 'What are you doing?' Raven asked when he saw Bacteen. 'Cooking,' Bacteen said, and smiled. Raven shook his head and flew away, saying he was glad to be a bird. At least he wouldn't get burned when Bacteen's fire got out of control again. Bacteen stood over his fire. Raven was right. Last time Bacteen had tried to cook he had burned down everything. But then Bacteen remembered what to do: he just had to offer some tobacco in the right directions. The tobacco was under the fire, though. 'I'll just take a little,' Bacteen said, and laid on his belly, dug under as far as his arm could reach, and cut off a little for the West. 'There,' he said, but then the world tilted to the West, so Bacteen reached under the fire again, cut off some tobacco for the East. 'Now,' he said, and squatted down over his fire. Just then Fox slid into his back, almost knocking him into the fire. 'What are you doing?' Bacteen asked him. 'Just riding,' Fox said, and took off running again, then jumped into a cannonball shape, kept sliding. Bacteen stood to see him better but almost fell forward. The world was tilted again, to the South. He needed to offer more tobacco. 'But I won't have enough,' Bacteen thought, then reached under a third time anyway, used his scissors to cut off another piece of tobacco. 'I wonder what my buffalo looks like now,' he said, offering to the North. It knocked him backwards , though-to the North. Bacteen was almost crying now. 'Well,' he said, laying on his belly again, reaching under the fire, 'one bite of buffalo will at least be better than no buffalo at all.' THE BIRD IS GONE I 77 And he offered the last piece to the South and the world leveled out again, and he squatted over his fire again singing the cooking song until the buffalo should be done. But he couldn't reach it anymore. He had cut too much off. He called Raven to help, but Raven just laughed. He called Fox to help, but when Fox said yes without asking for a bite, Bacteen knew Fox would eat it, so he said thanks, but no. Soon Coyote came nosing up. 'What you got there?' he asked. 'Nothing,' Bacteen said. Coyote smiled. 'You need someone who can dig,' he said, 'someone used to digging in holes.' Bacteen stood. 'You're right,' he said, then grabbed him-Coyote-and pushed his tail in, smudged his eyes around, and made him into a mole. 'Now you can get it,' he said, and the mole growled, but did it, dived into the earth for the buffalo, only when he came up his mouth was Coyote again. Bacteen hadn't pushed the nose in far enough. Coyote was a badger now, not a mole. And he had taken a fi1'th bite out of the tobacco, and it wasn't a buffalo anymore. 'What is it?' Bacteen asked, and the badger just stared at him. 'You can eat it,' Bacteen said-because Badgers eat anything-but the badger shook his wide head no and scampered away, looking back four times, twice over each shoulder. 'I'll eat it then,' Bacteen said, and brushed the dirt off. The tobacco still had four limbs, but it was different. It was a man now. And white. It reached up with a stick it had and poked Bacteen in the eye, and Bacteen dropped it. They stared at each other, Bacteen rubbing his eye. 78 I STEPHEN GRAHAM JONES 'What are you...