I have always been fascinated by the power of words to convey a message. When I was young, my mother used to read us stories some of which were her own. I loved those stories.
J.V. Andrus Dec. 2, 1934 – Oct. 10, 1989
Sometimes, however, an artist’s work isn’t fully recognized or appreciated until after they are gone – the following story has never been published but, it needs to be. It is a story I have never been able to get out of my mind.
Written by my mother, J.V. Andrus, Man Eater is about a wild mustang captured in the Alberta Foothills before the majority of wild horses disappeared from the range.
Many people like to romanticize the good old days – truth is, times were hard back then and the bitter reality of that truth can be harsh. The story of this wild mustang is raw. It’s real. It is a battle between a wild animal fighting for a territory being encroached upon by man. So, let’s take a step back into our not so distant history and enjoy my mother’s story of a wild stallion who roamed free in the foothills of Alberta in the 1939’s or 1940’s.
Proudly, I present:Man Eater by J.V. Andrus.
The following is Chapter 1 of 3.
Man Eater
By: J.V. Andrus
When I was a little girl, my family lived on the CC Ranch southwest of Nanton. The Ranch, situated on Willow Creek was silhouetted by the wild and beautiful Rocky Mountains.
The land was filled with bush and farther in towards the mountain was thick timber. I remember that it was not uncommon to see bear, moose and deer on this land. We knew that many wild horses made their home in the mountains although they were rarely seen.
My story is about a black stallion who gained the band of wild horses and who was snared in the mountains by my Dad and his best friend Frank.
I had only seen the wild horses a few times. My Dad, who was foreman of the CC Ranch, said the wild horses were inbred. They had large over-sized heads, crooked legs and big pie feet. Some were very small. The wild horses usually had long unshed hair and the older mares had matted manes and tails that hung to the ground.
They stayed high up in the mountains most of the year and grazed on the tender grass that grew along the timber line. Their bands were very small. The cold harsh winters and deep snow found the colts and weaker mares starving. Some were pulled down by Timber wolves, some by another hungry predator. During these times, wild horses usually descended from the mountains into the foothills.
The moon was still high when Vesta emerged from the lean-to. She knelt by the fire and added kindling to the embers coaxing it to flame then added larger pieces of wood. She could hear steady rhythmic breathing and snores. The babe still slept soundly as well. Vesta was certain her daughter was in good hands. She needed to go and quietly sit away from camp in order to decipher the dreams that so disturbed her rest.
A movement to her right caught her eye, a red fox. It had stolen a meaty bone and was scampering away from camp. Sly little fox, they were never to be trusted Vesta had learned. They’re too smart for their own good she remembered as she thought back to the time she’d watched one get over confident when trying to steal from a wolf. Its greed had been its undoing. But, that was nature’s way. The strongest and more intelligent species survived.
She wrapped a fur blanket around her shoulders and started walking through the foothills toward the flat land. From the edge of a grove of trees, yellow eyes followed her.
Xheng’s eyes widened. It was the first sentence Amarelle had spoken. The Captain relieved Amarelle of her abusive captor, the Preacher, almost a fortnight ago but she’d fallen into a mute silence after being rescued. He noticed a spark of life in her eyes. Stiffness in her stance fore told a stubborn determination to have her way in this discussion.
“You are still too weak for a voyage over the ocean to the Canada’s, Amarelle,” Chin spoke his words softly and carefully so as not to cause the girl duress.
“I’ll not stay!” Amarelle stated with forceful intent.
“Well, she’s correct in thinking she can’t stay Chin! The moment we are gone the Preacher will be claiming her once again and we can’t have that. Gather up what tinctures you can for her and all the cheese, fat meats and bread makings you can to get her weight up while we journey. Then procure some proper foot wear and clothing for the girl. She will be relegated to the Captain quarters while we sail.”
Smith gave Amarelle a quick once over. The girl, although healing, was frail. Outward bruising had disappeared but she had not overcome the trauma she’d endured at the Preacher’s hands.
“Deny her nothing Chin. Take her with you to gather her needs. I suggest you hurray we leave on the tide come morning light.” Continue Reading »
I am a very easy going person, and enjoy life. I don’t ask for much other than to be healthy and happy, but yet it seems like I get taken advantage of in many different ways. I get walked over all the time. I don’t think I’m better than anyone, in fact I probably have less than a lot, but I feel very rich within myself and my home. I know that I am an enabler because I never want to see anyone hurting for any reason so I try to help if I can. How can I change his within myself and still be helpful to others?
Are you feeling like this and have you ever asked this type of question? If so, it is an excellent question!
Congratulations number one for recognizing that you are a codependent and enabler! We all are from time to time; this is human tendency and obviously causes self-esteem problems.
Moose Medicine and the North direction are indicated to seek wisdom in addressing self-esteem issues. This is inner work. Continue Reading »
Vesta sat cross-legged near a grove of red willow and weaved a basket from their flexible stripped branches. In this basket, she would carry any collected red bark back to the settlement. The medicinal properties of the bark were much needed to subdue fevers, aches and pains during the outbreak of the springtime influenza which the colonies residents were now suffering. Continue Reading »
Do you believe in a soul walking into someone who is still alive? Can the two soul’s cohabitate in one body?
These are very complex questions. Let’s unravel the Dreamwalker Scroll pertinent to these questions to answer them with more depth.
It is extremely important to be physically, emotionally, mentally and spiritually balanced.
When your heart chakra is fully open, you are open to the emotional energy of many other sources. This may cause you to receive too much feeling energy even if balanced. There is a possibility that if you are too open, you may absorb negative auras or lower energies into your own because the light you emit copies that of heaven’s gate so to speak. Energy absorption can be either involuntarily or voluntarily. Those who unknowingly absorb spirit or soul energies are called Ghost Keepers or Soul Keepers. Tell these energies to leave your body at once. (This goes for anything else that may be draining your body of energy or messing with your mental or emotional well-being.) Remember, you are in charge of your own body, mind and spirit. Then help send these wayward energies heavenward, with much love and blessings. Be prepared to feel some grief as these energies may have shared your body for a while. Continue Reading »
I have submerged myself into something unknown. The path, still curvy feels pressurized. It is turbulent at times and if I move against the flow, tire more easily. But, I know that is necessary to go against the norm. My instincts drive me to do this.
Determination to reach my destination has caused me to focus on inner power. This instinctual power causes adrenaline to surge through my body and I leap into the light only to splash down slightly further ahead. The journey is almost complete. I can feel it. I have worked hard. Soon I can rest but not right now. My body is aching. I am hungry. I have used up nearly all of my reserves just to get this far. Surely, I will die completing this labor of love. I must eat. That is when I spot it, a tidbit to feed my starving soul. I snatch it up barely missing a hook. Next time I will be more careful, not everything edible along this path is safe.
I hope the morsel will be enough to propel me to where I need to be. A knowing fills me and I dive deep into dark shadowy depths. My lungs feel like they will explode as a vise-like grip grabs hold of my body and forces a vaporized bubble from my lips then I hit bottom. Continue Reading »
In spirit form, Nell lingered unseen and unheard while Vesta gathered willow bark for her benefactor. She listened somewhat bemused as her apprentice invoked the ‘Power of Three’ then hurled words like poisonous darts from her mouth; words which were aimed at the Preacher. Vesta and Amarelle were both still her students – even though neither could see her while she was in spirit form; Nell could guide them. Her protégés, Vesta and Amarelle had both taken an oath. They had sworn not to use their ‘powers’ to cause fear or harm. However, Amarelle did deserve justice. Perhaps, just this one time, she could let Vesta’s slip-up pass. In a way, she wished she’d used such ingenuity for Amarelle’s justice. Perhaps, this faux pas was more of a spell than a curse and one that she agreed was for the “good of the whole!” As Nell faded away into the ethos she realized that Karma alone would decide the positive or negative results of this spell on Vesta and the Preacher.
His name was Xheng but no one could pronounce it properly. They just referred to him as ‘Chin.’
Xheng was a sensei; a teacher but he had not yet achieved status of senpai – master of the healing arts as he had been taken hostage by pirates who invaded the shores of his homeland seeking slaves to sell. When Captain Smith came upon the pirate ship called Black Betty, they’d done battle. Xheng was one of the few survivors of the sunken Black Betty. He had been hauled aboard the rescuing ship by none other than the Captain himself. Xheng had always been a fast learner. He could speak some broken English. “You heppa me?” he’d questioned the intrigued Captain.
Captain Smith was a scholar and gentleman. Xheng dubbed ‘Chin,’ and Captain Smith became friends and colleagues on their voyage toward the America’s where they sailed to colonize a new land. Continue Reading »
This golden flower is known as a buffalo bean, prairie bean, golden banner and prairie pea. These flowers bloom during
late May or early June. The buffalo bean can be found in open sandy areas of the prairie and aspen forests where water tables are high.
The golden bean flowers were once used as a cure for stomach disease and its roots used as a horse medicine.
Dye was made from the yellow flowers and used by the First Nations People to color arrows and skin bags.
Most importantly, the appearance of this golden pea-like flower was used as a form of phenology (study of nature) by the First Nations People because upon its arrival, the spring hunt for buffalo bulls could resume.
Warning: The pea shaped pods of a buffalo bean should never be consumed as they are poisonous!
I don’t mind spotting this type of smoke on the prairie!
This little flower is called, ‘Prairie Smoke.’ Otherwise known as Geum triflorum, three flowered avens or old man’s whiskers.
The flowers on this perennial herbaceous plant bloom from mid-spring to early summer.
They grow wild on the prairie but you can also purchase them from your local greenhouse and plant them as perennials in your flower garden.
Native Americans and early settlers once used the root from the Prairie Smoke to treat colic, fever, coughs and stomach ailments with tea made from its roots.
It was even used in the treatment of Tuberculosis (TB) an infectious disease that affects the lungs and other parts of the body.
I am traveling the middle world from west to east. I know that I am from earth but not of it. Today though, I must join my human family as it is a time of celebration.
The eagles are crying out in distain. Their shrill whistles permeate the air as I temporarily exit the higher realm. Their piercing screams remind me that they will continue to support my efforts to rise above human drama and past mistakes. I remember the lessons that I have progressed through then breath through self-doubt, illusions of fear and vanity.
My family is very unassuming. They accept me for who I am. I am the one who self judges. I am very hard on myself so, I prefer not to take on someone else’s illusion of who I am. Ego is hard to be rid of. However, ego demolishing makes you wise. It is very humbling.
It is hard to be a leader because people want to follow those who are wise or humble. Sometimes, they put you up on a pedestal that is impossible to uphold or maintain. I have no desire to be on that type of a pedestal. I prefer to simply be myself. Although, I have a strong desire to be the best that I can be, my preference is just to be happy doing whatever it is that I’m meant to be doing at the time. Now, if that led to an invitation to stand behind a podium for a sharing of mutual empowerment, I would be very accepting and grateful for the opportunity. This would allow all involved to achieve victory and freedom because we all chose to be present in order to experience the joy of shared wisdom. I like to share. This is what I try to teach to others. But they don’t understand.
I say to them, “I cannot be your leader. I may be able to assist you during your journey but, you must follow your own lead. Be an individual, revel in your differences. Share as you are guided. This is what it means to lead by example. This is what it is to be happy; joyful. This is the true essence of love. Love yourself. Take the small steps.” Continue Reading »
Vesta wandered along the creek and wove amongst budding trees and bush in search of the red willow her ‘ami,’ had sent her for.
Once boiled with water and ingested, the red bark of willow became a remedy which would lower fever and reduce pain; a much needed medicine at this time of year when the weather was unpredictably hot or cold.
Vesta noticed the creek started to bend just farther east from where she stood. Beyond the bend, an alcove would shelter her from a cool spring breeze that blew through this shaded area of burly twisted tree trunks. There a few feet beyond that bend lay a meadow surrounded by thick bush and willow tall enough to block any wayward wind. Vesta stepped briskly toward the bend up ahead, eager to shake loose her brown woolen cape and carefully coiffed hair. How she looked forward to these rare moments of freedom away from the confines of the community where she felt like such a hostage. Out of mortal fear, she’d been forced to camouflage herself amongst them – those she described as, ‘murderous vultures.’ She deliberately dressed in dowdy colors like they did; browns, grays and blacks were colors that more often than not kept one unnoticed among the colonies vultures. Still, she liked ‘tiny pretty things’ and would don a small sparkly necklace or pin that could be easily covered if necessary when prying eyes cast their umbrous glances in her direction. Continue Reading »
This is an update on my last post regarding the progress of Bill C-10; an Act to Amend the Broadcasting Act here in Canada.
Let me start this article by sharing a quote from a fellow Canadian regarding the digital sphere:
“We need to pay attention to what is happening.
The very character of our country is at stake,”
Justin Trudeau, Prime Minister of Canada, May 16, 2019
I agree; we most definitely do need to payattention to what is happening! Our entire country is literally being torn apart by some of the very characters who lead it! The digital sphere is only one area being abhorrently affected by these characters. Continue Reading »
Amarelle awoke screaming, the sound so high pitched and pitiful it cleared the very darkness from her unhinged mind.
Her mental clarity had partially returned thanks-be to a disturbing dream about clues for the future. Her blue eyes darted around unfamiliar surroundings until she glimpsed a tattered dirty image of herself in the darkened window. One hand was curled tightly into a fist. She felt a stabbing, throbbing pain emanating from it. She looked down at her left hand and slowly unfurled her fingers to reveal the contents which she gripped so tightly.
Inside the clenched fist of Amarelle’s left hand was a red thorny rose. She had squeezed the flower so hard it had punctured her palm. Blood droplets landed on her bare feet then trickled like tiny streams onto the floor boards.
Amarelle stared morosely at the rose’s squashed red petals and watched curiously as crimson droplets of blood trailed toward the floor. She was transfixed by the scarlet colors.
So entranced was Amarelle by the colors of red, that she had failed to noticed a large unwieldy figure who accompanied her in the room. Continue Reading »
Oh, what tales we Weaver’s weave when our well scripted words are spun together into a magical yarn.
I am a writer; a weaver of magical yarns.
I am a Weaver; a weaver of magical yarn.
I am a Weaver.”
I have always been a fan of folklore, myths and parables. Recently, I came across the story of a Wise old Weaver woman hidden in a cave. Every culture has mystical tales that tell of Weaver’s hidden in places unknown or away from civilization. Their only company a big black dog. They weave beautiful capes, robes or blankets with ethereal cords from the cosmos which are never completed because chaos (the dog) intervenes to unravel their work, at which point the Weaver’s begin again. The myth is that if the Weaver ever completes their work, the world will end. These Weaver’s have been creating this article of beauty since the beginning of time.
During the winter months, I began to weave. It all started because of boredom. I am an active person. I don’t deal well with boredom. Boredom led me toward the need to purge. It’s astounding the amount of items that one accumulates and then holds on to for no real reason. The time had come for me to remove needless items from my home – make more space – let’s say; in those dark, shadowy closeted spaces one like me hesitates to venture into.
I read a piece of prose by Andrew The Lonely Author at www.thelonelyauthorblog.com ; it started with, “love hung in her closet,” what an enchanting thought!
I am a little terrified of what might be hanging in my closets – cobwebs and skeletons. But, there is proper timing for everything and the time for purging was now. Continue Reading »
The animals are confused. They have noticed we human beings are suffering. They have gathered about me to convey their concern.
“What can be done?” I ask. “I have been through the dark tunnel of despair. I am loathe to go there again. The air inside the void is stagnant yet fraught with turbulence and electricity. It smells sour. The land is picked clean. It has become barren, a desert. The people are starving. They are dirty because there is no water left for them to wash and they have abandoned the search. They are so entrenched in their own inner pain, they cannot see beyond the horizon. I do not want to enter there again! If I survive the dream walk, I will emerge weak and vulnerable myself.”
I hear Hummingbird laugh. He is laughing at me! I am angered by this and my belly begins to boil. Annoyed, I reply to Hummingbirds laughter.
“I was ordered not to re-enter the dark realm.” But even as I utter the words, I realize my ego was the voice which did the ordering. I take a deep breath and calmly exhale. Smiling now, I thank Hummingbird. He is very wise. Humbly, I admit I have been allowing my ego to rule my destiny. My instinct now is to return to the awareness of my heart. My heart is the safest place to be. Continue Reading »
For all women; past, present and future: as we grow in wisdom, strength and unity to blossom into the unique wildflowers that we are, let us continue to support and empower others with grace. May our grace transform world chaos into beauty by simply accepting our true unbiased nature.
I have developed a fondness for the word “thing”- albeit, it is somewhat of a love/hate relationship.
My use of the word “thing,” usually coincides with episodes in my life where I know that if I am using the word “thing,” I am experiencing some type of mental block. At these times, it is as if the universal vacuum has descended from above to clean out my cranium. Just like any other vacuum, the universal one can accidentally suck up useful things as well as cobwebs.
The universal vacuum likes information. And, just for your information, I am all for loosing such things that constitute life’s most embarrassing moments from my memory bank.
But does it really need to suck out my brain’s capacity to access its inner dictionary?
At such seemingly unintellectual times; those I can only define as brain dead moments, it makes me wonder – where’s the thing? Meaning, my brain! Continue Reading »
I’ve seen the Thunder Birds again. They’re dark ominous creatures, larger than their brothers the eagle. They’re accompanied by lightning bolts and thunder. At one time I feared their appearance. Now, I realize Thunder Birds warn me not to give my fear power. Continue Reading »
"Northward the slope descended to a dim line of canyons from which rose an up-flinging of the earth, not mountainous, but a vast heave of purple uplands, with ribbed and fan-shaped walls, castle-crowned cliffs, and gray escarpments. Over it all crept the lengthening, waning afternoon shadows." (Zane Grey)
Amarelle’s eyes filled with knowing and fear upon hearing disembodied words that intoned those of Nell. She shrunk from the sound of her kind mentor’s out-of-body voice as it spoke to her and her alone – words unheard by others who were not gifted at hearing the spirits beyond. To Amarelle, Nell’s soft sounding voice seemed like a merciless sting. One could only feel a stab like that if they had conscience then acted against it. Guilt’s vice like grip clenched at Amarelle’s stomach causing her to lurch forward. It made her feel sick. Continue Reading »
The astrologers say that, “It is a big energy day.” I am somewhat bemused by their prediction.
Big energy or “quickenings,” as I call them can cause problems in a conflicted world like ours. Since the day is only beginning however, only time will tell the tale of this quickening. Continue Reading »
I am fiercely loyal to family and friends but I have learned that loyalty can be a detriment when it comes at your own expense through them.
I am fiercely loyal…
My mother always taught me, “If you can’t say anything nice; don’t say anything at all.” However, it goes without saying – our society has become addicted to drama or tragedies which cause traumas in life.
Tragedies are forces to be reckoned with that cannot be controlled. Lack of control causes us to behave badly. We all succumb to poor behavior once in a while. Humans have a tendency to fall backwards into bad habits when faced with ongoing stress in their lives so often time’s words are the weapons of choice used in defense of one’s self. We can all relate to the power of words.
Words can be destructive. Sometimes, we are in so much pain we cannot see the true shape of our kingdom which is in ruins. When people are not happy they become saboteurs. They can become their own worst enemies by spreading hurtful gossip or hurling stinging insults at other’s they care about to their own unfortunate peril then excuse their behavior by uttering quips. Continue Reading »
The land I live upon has a magical essence. It’s magical because of the creatures who share it with me. This spring, some creatures flew in from the south and nested along the dam which runs west and south of our property. So quite naturally, I am facing southwest while I reminisce about the Canadian Geese.
The term used for a flock of geese or a number of geese together is gaggle; and gaggle they did. A large social celebration commenced immediately upon their arrival. Continue Reading »
They were like vultures circling prey. Their beady eyes revealed a fear of death. But, the same eyes reveled in Nell’s. They waited expectantly to tear flesh from bone strip by strip. Once in a while, a brave one bounced forward. Its awkward peck was designed only to intimidate. Does the prey still have courage? Does she still fight? Then its own cowardice would over-take it and the vulgar creature would hop backward into the crowd to seek safety.
Nell pitied them, they were so ugly. She noticed their bare heads grow red in the twilight. They hunched forward. The sun receded. They grew restless and cold, pulling their cloaks toward them like wings, tight to their bodies. “Witch,” their raspy drawn-out voices hissed, “Burn Witch.” Continue Reading »
Earlier, he’d pursed his lips, tossed the newspaper aside and decided that even though the state of the world was depressed, he could still improve his grammar. The word of the day was weltscherz; a noun meaning sentimental pessimism, sorrow that one feels and accepts as one’s necessary portion in life. Continue Reading »
my Dad and his best friend Frank.
embers coaxing it to flame then added larger pieces of wood. She could hear steady rhythmic breathing and snores. The babe still slept soundly as well. Vesta was certain her daughter was in good hands. She needed to go and quietly sit away from camp in order to decipher the dreams that so disturbed her rest.
camp. Sly little fox, they were never to be trusted Vesta had learned. They’re too smart for their own good she remembered as she thought back to the time she’d watched one get over confident when trying to steal from a wolf. Its greed had been its undoing. But, that was nature’s way. The strongest and more intelligent species survived.
“I’ll not stay!” Amarelle stated with forceful intent.
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