Two days can be a week to a child, and one moon as a full set of turnings…after a few days I feel as if I belong with the old man.
He hasn’t said much, except for asking about my health. I tend the flock with him a few days, lounging around as he herds.
Soon I am going out by myself to watch and herd.
Having little else to do, I begin to watch the habits of the old man.
One of them in particular puzzles me for days before I find enough courage to ask him about it. Every morning he spends a portion of his time looking at one of his possessions.
What is that you look at?
It is a mirror……Do you have a name?
Something people say when they mean you.
I have a name …… Would you like to hear it?
Will it do something to me if I hear it?
It is a way of you touching me…….It is a way in which you may become part of me
Yes, tell me
My name is Twin Chiefs
Twin Chiefs…….Twin Chiefs.
…and I will give you the name of Estchimah…….Sleep
Come. We will tell your name to the trees.
We walk slowly, excitedly beside him…he leads to the edge of the small valley
He calls out to the trees, cupping hands to mouth: Estchimah!!
Trees echo: Estchimah . . . Estchimah . . . Estchimah . . . Estchimah . .