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Black Weasel Becomes The Wanagi

In Process of Writing...

Part 2: The Wanagi Visits Black Weasel's Childhood

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Many moons after the birth of the Wanati spirit beings onto the lands of the original people, they dispersed rapidly before the Creator could really achieve to teach her people of these beings. While they remained an oppressed, scattered, ununified family clan of trickster spirits..the damage definitely had been done as many dispersed to all the people of turtle island. The Clown people they became known to the Zuni and Pueblo nations of the deserts..the Wanati people effecting the mighty Sioux, Cheyenne and Blackfoot nations on the plains..even reaching to the far east known as the Moon people to the grand Iroquois confederacy. Regardless of tribal interpretations, origin stories, and appearances they portrayed to the people they encountered and effected...they were all linked to the same damned purpose..their curse to be as of a wolf, a coyote, a spider..and a colored painted man of black and white. With their females they had entrapped..often turning into Naatoyitapiksi's themselves or becoming Deer Women, the female equivalent race of immortal trickster beings. They created underground, secret systems of family, spirit-being nations within places people could never see. Within the deepest corridors of mountain caves and in untravelable parts of the Rockies. Though most traveled alone in sovereignty of others of their kind. They drowned themselves in loneliness and eternal pain, but it was better "hunting" this way of mortals.
In these "old" days before Europeans invaded and the sacred hoop was broken..the Wanagi beings were a very powerful race of spirits and shape-shifters, gaining numbers quickly as they tricked so many into the curse of loneliness and immortality...the Vampire and Lycan plague of the Americas it seemed.

Our story begins, with a very small boy. Deep in the Indigenous continent of North America, lived a powerful confederacy of nations called the Niitsitapi.."the real people". In this confederacy existed the Amsskaapiipikani, the " The South Peigan", Aapatohsipiikani, the "The North Peigan", Kainai, "The Blood People", the Siksika, "The Blackfeet People", and smaller nations under their protection including the Sarsi and T'suu T'siina nations. The Niitsitapi were a powerful and fierce people, creating no outside allies with other nations and fought everyone around them..holding firm dominant control of the northern Platte.

In a small camp, no smaller nor bigger than most winter camps, lived Spotted Tail's clan of North Peigan Blackfeet. It was the snow moons of 1797, in the conifer mountain winter camps of the Rockies..where the Great Niitsitapi nation split to live in solitude within the mountains to escape harsh prairie blizzards. It was a time of peace, of rest for the warriors to finally uncoil their anger and hunt stray inii (buffalo) who also disbanded into small groups in the winter. Their winter coats, being at their toughest and thickest, were gathered to make strong, impenetrable war shields for the summer war parties.
But it was a time of boredom, of unrest, for the children, for the boys and girls. Often too cold outside or the snow too thick to play in..they were often forced to be kept in their family lodges to be entertained by weary, exhausted grandmothers. In one of these lodges lived two large families. They were wealthy and respected because both husbands were dominant leaders of the Painted Horn society..a society best known to the Peigan for their vigilance and bravery in battle against the Apsaroka (Crow), Nez Perce and Shoshone, as well as a long lineage of seemingly immortal-to-pain Sun Dancers. In this lodge, lived a solitary boy, named Black Weasel.

Black Weasel played with other boys but often loved to paint and draw with sticks in the ground. He was often scolded for not paying attention, for he had no interest in normal boy things such as knives and bows. Though regardless the boy lived his young childhood, in support of his artitsic grandfather who helped keep the Winter Count and in much frustration of his parents. On a cold day in the winter camp, Black Weasel set out by himself into the snow covered firs of the mountains. He was fascinated by the stillness of winter, as he accepted and learned it was her way to keep things still. It seemed nature hated movement in these times, and done much in her power to instill silence and unwavering structures in the land. He always seemed to seek something but never knew what in this silence. He found often many tracks of animals, evidence of dragging travois of meat carriers back to camp and Niitsitapi feet planted into paths in the thinnest parts of the snow. With his long boy braids and thick buffalo-calf hide wrapped around him, he explored.

Upon exploring the thick pines, he climbed upon rocks, whiping the snow away then cursing its coldness to his hands, retreating closed fists into his hide with tight shut eyes, exclaiming "shii.." in reaction to the cold. He climbed upon the rock and sat legs dangling, gathering twigs and breaking them..making small lodges with them as he recreated a pretend village in the snow..singing songs to himself at times but mostly enjoyed the silence.
He stopped his song at the sound of traveling feet. The snow crunched under an approaching creature..seemingly with two feet. His little boy eyes scanned all around as he sat listening for more. He pinpointed the location as he watched on a small hill with thick trees..watching a man pass through behind them,,seeing only glimpses as it passed through the tiny spaces of the powerful thick trunks. He watched silently..catching glimpses of a man wrapped in a large buffalo hide, with large eagle feathers standing upright and other directions. It appeared the man had a topknot or society pompadour with a bright white crusted paint on his forehead....until the man disappeared behind the hill and into the forest and rocks more. Bravely, but in fear, little Black Weasel called out.

"Pohsaapota...Pohsaapota!" -- "Come here!" cried the boy repeatedly, only hearing the echo dully travel to the trees, to be ended short of their echoing lifespan..trapped it seemed in the thick evergreen branches and inche sof snow piled upon them. Though the feet stopped moving he heard, but could not see the man. Surely the man would have responded by now, especially if he was now listening.

"Pohsaapota...pinaattaatsiskasita!" -- "Come here, do not fool around!" commanded the boy. Though the only response was a restarting rhythm of footsteps crunching in the snow, growing faster and faster in speed as it seemed to be attempting to escape the area. Black Weasel then assumed possibly it was a Crow spy. Only a Crow would care enough to spy and attack and winter camp, especially Spotted Tail's. He ran to the hill fast, tripping in the thick snow and the ends of his hide. Yelling out.

"Amohksi'natsiassikaan! Amohksi'natsiassikaan!" -- "Red Blanket!" he called repeatedly for his father. Hiding behind the thick trees and panting as he crashed his weight into the trunks, fearfully peering through the spaces of them looking for the man. His long braids covered in snow swung back and forth, being his only movement aside from his misting winter breath as he looked. His eyes scanning the ground for tracks, he kept the trail in his mind as well as its location to show his father. As he decided to turn to run, a whisper hit him from all sides, behind him, even above him..a quiet, shuddering whisper.
"Pinata tsipoyita........" -- "Do not speak..." said the whisper, as Black Weasel looked around, hearing crows take flight and squawking at each other, wings flapping and snow falling from the top of the tree they were at, above near the boy. Black Weasel sat in the snow in fear, his heart pounded unsure of what was going on..it seemed he no longer sought the silence, as now it seemed to scare him beyond belief. He turned his head to peer through the trunks again. He watched a bit far away the man was slowly walking from behind a rock to tip toe on his way, seeming to make try to make his quiet escape unaware. Glancing back, it made eye contact with Black Weasel, as yellow eyes shined at him..eyes of when the sunsets hit the eyes of the makoyii, wolf, or the mountain cat. The skin looked crusted and old like of an old woman, but the face was still strong and prominent like a primed warrior. Large yet broken mother-of-pearl shell earings swung from his earlobes as his silky dull loose hair rode the slight cold breeze. The boy in complete fear jumped up, even out of his robe and ran for the camp in just his loincloth and winter moccasin boots. Stumbling repeatedly into the snow, covering himself in its white bitter coldness as the camp's lodge poles came into sight, the clear smoke escaping the smoke-flaps. He ran around the base of his family's lodge to the east side, throwing the lodge-door open and crashing into the tipi, snow collapsing onto everything off his body. The girls screaming and protectively picking up their now wet dolls, and the grandmothers yelling curses to the boy as the snow landed all over the elder's quillwork. In fear he shouted to his father who's hair was being braided by his mother.

"Father father, I saw a crazy Crow!...A crazy Crow spy with sunny eyes!" panting as he regained his breath. Unfinished with his braid his father shot up instantly and ran outside, calling to other men. For his protection he ordered his son to remain in the lodge. His mother dried him and re-wrapped him in a blanket tightly, the ends of his braids dripping warm water from the melting snow. Moments of anticipation after his father returned, frustratedly throwing his weapons down and warming his hands.

"Did you get him?" he asked his father.
"You did not see a Crow, you did not see a man my son..calm down." he replied, but Black Weasel protested.
"Yes father, I saw him..he was painted like an Apsaroka (Crow) and had big feathers...he was running from me and when he looked he had bright eyes..." he pondered a moment, then spoke loudly again remembering the facts.."The tracks! there were tracks, follow them..they were of a man did you see!?"
His father Red Blanket shook his head, sighing as he re-relaxed into his spot in the lodge.
"My son, we found nothing but makoyii tracks..which would also explain the eyes you saw....it is ok Black Weasel, all boys fear the wolf at your age."



WORK IN PROGRESS

Part 1: The Wanagi Spirit is Born on Turtle Island

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Long long long ago..before the stories were told, before the happenings of them were created, the Paleo-Indian people lived on this quiet solitary continent. The birth of blood lines of many contemporary nations began spawning in the barren yet plentiful lands of Turtle Island..(North America). In the times of the large mammoth, ancient people migrated and lived in the rich forests and mountains of the north near modern day Devil's Tower. These people called themselves the Agonwequon..before the Athabasca and Algonquin major Indigenous blood lines were created. These people lived in happiness in their small numbers..the women were amazing elk-teeth dress makes and jewelers sought after by many...the men were the best hunters in the north, fearless men who stood face to face with Nature's most powerful adversaries.
The only issue with the early Agonwequon people is they had not experienced anything outside of their world, anything to let them believe things beyond their natural world existed. The did not have words in their language for such unexplained occurrences as well as human emotions and traits such as jealousy, ignorance, self-centered, etc. One day, before days were recorded, a group of Agonwequon men gathered. The old ones reminded the strong hunters that the moons of summer were ending, the constellation of Six-Neglected Boys was coming close to the north which meant fall was approaching. The old one stood in his primitive elk and bear hide..his long silver hair reaching the top sinew-ties of his moccasins. He spoke weakly from age yet strong from a tribal leader.
"Hunters of the people.." he stated boldly, as many men gathered. "I can see the falling snows already in my dreams, I see the elk gathering and moving as the Kwauitak people do when the chokecherries have been picked. This moon of hunting will be our most important if we are to keep our women fat and our lodges warm. Bring me the finest of meat and luscious of hides.."

The men mumbled somewhat in boredom, as the old man spoke often which was apparent to the inattentive teen hunters. Until the old man spoke again.

"...to bring strength into the hearts of you hunters, as the flowers bring the humming flies to visit...the man who brings us the best, most fattest of meat shall receive my bear claw shield, which makes the warrior invincible to arrows..".

The men mumbled and nodded inspired, until the old man continued.

"...and to the man who brings me the teeth and eyes of Unnoshiit shall receive permission to court my daughter."

The men really up-roared as they playfully pushed each other and spoke humor as well as confidence they were going to be that man. The old man's daughter simply blushed sitting on her elk hide as she worked a new dress for a coming-of-age girl. The most beautiful of women in the snowy regions of the north.

As inspiring as the reward was, none of the hunters could deny the fear they had for Unnoshiit. Unnoshhit was a cave-dwelling monster...who had the body of a water serpent, the claws of the biggest mountain bears, and the eyes more keen than the spotted eagle. He lived in solitude in the highest of hills where the trees grew thick as it preyed on large animals. Though the valor and honor to marry the beautiful old man's daughter was unspeakable to most men. He would be the center of jealously for all his brothers and fellow hunters, he would become the clans leader and would be the most wealthy. The men rested as best as they could before the gathering-hunt.

As the sun rose, the many hunters gathered in the center of the village. Carrying packs on slings and wrapped hides, for these were the days long long long before horses and packing dogs. With their finest and straightest arrows, their strongest of bows they headed out. Many women hugging and singing prayer songs out loud for the safe return of their husbands and children. Many hunters split off into smaller hunting parties, some even cocky enough to brave the hunt on their own. Though two brothers stuck to one another, they knew together they could complete any task.

Wolf Runs Two, and his slightly younger brother, His Eyes Are Many, had been close their entire lives as they reached their adulthood. They did every and anything together. Many mothers were jealous and often talked about the boys' cooperation and teamwork with each other.
As the brothers hiked up the unforgiving hills and mountains with ease, they made many jokes and laughed together. They never discussed the reward as they enjoyed hunting together for any reason. They traveled for 4 long days, finally camping at the valley of two mountains, where the ice freezes and stops trolling off the mountainsides. They made a small fire and ate pieces of dried rabbit meat and other berries their mothers had picked and packed for them. Into the evening and night they made up stories of brave hunters (instead of warriors for this was before war), going into the details of amazing kills and prosperity and wealth of many wives and lodges from horizon to horizon. They fell asleep dreaming of these stories becoming real for them one day.

As the brothers awoke and gathered their belongings, His Eyes Are Many was throwing stones over the cliff. Wolf Runs Two laughed as he asked his brother.

"His Eyes Are Many, no matter how far you throw our Grandfathers, they are still going to be related to you, silly younger brother!"

His Eyes Are Many chuckled but spoke to defend his actions, tossing another before speaking.

"Hiiktika oohoun ni sha, brother! These stones under my sleeping hide made me roll around uncomfortably like the pine logs roll in mighty rivers!" They both laughed, but unaware one of the rocks tumbled down the mountainside. It gained speed and velocity as it tumbled and skipped. Until it clunked onto the head of Unnoshiit.

The monster unable to find his cave the night before decided to sleep on the ledge. He growled loudly, louder and more fierce than any bear or wolf any man had encountered. The serpent-like monster crawled up the mountain fast.

As the boys finished packing and kicked soil onto their fire, they started to head into the trees, ducking under low branches, until they both turned and ducked as the large monster reached over the edge onto their camp. Its roar shook the mountains, the trees seemed to bend like in storm winds. The boys yelled in fear, but were strong hunters in heart and body. The brothers hide behind strong trees as they readied their bows with their strongest and straightest arrows. Unnoshiit claws at the trees, breaking them one by one as he paved his way to the brothers. They looked to each other and gave their knowing nod of their hunting technique. At a second clawing of the monster, the bows turned simultaneously and shot their arrows. Each arrow landing dead center into each eye of Unnoshiit. The monster screamed and roared as it clawed around trying to find its way around. The brothers then unsheathed their strong knives used to gut game as they both stabbed it into the monsters heart. The monster roared again, sending his death song to the four corners of the earth, as it fell and lay motionless on the ground, on a bed of trees and branches it had broken in its rage.

The brothers, panting from fear and exhaustion of the fight, neared the monster step by step. Their bows still armed with their hands gripped tight ready for any sudden movements. Suddenly the monster didn't move but began to change colors. The brothers watched in amazement. They started to discuss what powers could come from the beast if they were to take the arrowed-in eyes, and the sharp fangs. The people would write songs of them, songs of their bravery and strength. They would marry the old man;s daughter and one day be a leader of the Agonwequon. Though they began to fight. They realized there could only be one leader, the old man's daughter could only have one husband. They began to argue who's arrow and knife hit the monster first, even though they did everything together and everything at the same exact time. The brothers began yelling insults in their language as their brown arms and hands pushed and grappled with each other.

While the brothers scuffled, ghostlike arms extended from the monsters blood-running eyes. As ghostly and vibrant as the northern aurora as it snaked its way through the air towards the fighting brothers. The arms then grabbed and coiled them like giant snakes. The heat of their argument dissipating as they realized they were being attacked. A new face formed from the vibrant ghost spirit as it held the two brothers and began to speak.

"You human boys are very brave to attack me, and succeed for that matter.." as the boys struggled to be freed they listened.

"The spirits know of everyone, who they are and how they live with each other...though, we have known you are Wolf Runs Two and His Eyes Are Many, the brothers who never fight, and yet see they fight for things like women and power and wealth on this day...amongst your arguing for wealth and power and fame, you had forgotten to remove my three yellow scales from my back..."

As the monster lifted the boys to show them three shiny yellow scales, they still struggled to be free but listened intently.

"For those are what held my spirit trapped in this body, though as you can see, you have killed my mortal form. My eyes are shot and blood running from them...and two knives in my heart. So now I'm left without a physical form..and since I have you two, I will become you. May your mortal souls be cast out into nature, back to the grandfather stones and grandmother earth, and may you forever regret your selfishness."

The boys were crying now, struggling to still be free but at the same time begging for their lives. The vibrant colored apparition showed them no mercy however as the spirit only laughed at their sorrow and regret.

"I will become one being again.." Unnoshiit's spirit continued "but I cannot be as one being from two brothers..so I will have to accept three forms. I will use your blood and hearts to become a Agonwequon man..I will combine your youthful bodies with your handsome faces to be the most astounding looking two-legged man there is."

He chuckled as they cried and yelled at the monster in their language, saying mean and threatening things.

"For my other forms...hmmmm..." he contemplated, looking at the oldest brother before speaking. "The Creator says I cannot banish you completely and have my way, for you were strong enough to kill me in my mortal form that all men were supposed to fear. So I will have to honor you two somehow."

He trailed off, using the best of his abilities to think of how the situation should end up.

"Wolf Runs Two.." he said sternly, getting the older brother;'s attention. "I will honor your name by making my other form after you. Your name implies a wolf that runs on two legs, a strong hunter and yet fierce adversary to man. To honor you and the love you both hold for each other that cannot be destroyed..my other forms shall be curses. I will be the most handsome man alive, but your curse shall be I turn into a wolf-man; when the moon is shining I must turn into you and be a ruthless killer, seeking the blood of others."

Even knowing Wolf Runs Two was going to die, he smiled knowing he would at least curse this monster.

"His Eyes Are Many.." he shifted his gaze to the younger brother. "I will honor your name by making my last form after you. Your name implies a form that must have many eyes, and that is the spider..the web weaver. Aside from being a handsome man, and ruthless killing two-legged wolf, I will be cursed to be a form that scares the human..considered one of the most feared and ugly-looking creatures to exist. My human form will grow tired very easily, and in order to travel well, I will need to change into you so that my many legs can carry me."

Like his brother, afraid to die, felt some ease knowing he was also going to curse the monster. As they closed their eyes and held each others hand, there was a loud clap of thunder and an earthquake shook the lands from horizon to horizon. After the fray, there lay a naked, young handsome man. He stood slowly, brushing off his brown skin. Excited for his new body, he ran as fast as he could to the river. Though after only a few steps, he grew so tired he had to collapse. For this, he knew living a normal life was going to be impossible...he knew the hunters would never invite him for growing tired so easily. Unnoshiit transformed into his large spider form as he then got up and continued to the river. He looked in the water, only to see staring back at him an ugly 8 eyes with large fangs and mandibles. He switched to his human form and looked in the water, seeing the most handsome man ever in existence. He laughed selfishly as he laid there.

After a nap, he awoke to the sound of The Creator's voice. The Creator was very angry as strong winds ascended from the skies, bending the large trees and grasses. Unnoshiit stood slowly and yelled to the skies.

"Creator, I hear your voice, I feel your power...my ears are open if you wish to speak."

The Creator ascended in the form of a glowing white grandmother woman. Her long silver hair disappeared into the grasses as she was connected to the earth. She gave him a stern look.

"Unnoshhit, you are many of my spirit cousins, and for that I must heed your well-being and look after you. But this day you destroyed a love bond..a bond you cannot break. Sticks alone break easy, but the bundle will always remain strong, bearing any weight possible. For this evil deed, you are not fully a man that I have made to be. A spirit cannot exist within a man and survive for he will soon crumble weakly and his skin will melt and shed like that of a snake."

Frustrated, he knew he couldn't deny the words of The Creator. He instead huffed angrily and asked.

"Then what must I do, Creator...I have already cursed myself to balance the existence of things...what more must be done."

The Creator smiled, she could still see the love of the two brothers within him. Her hand reached out and touched his skin.

"I am which all that is good, Unnoshiit. Cursing yourself will never break the bond the two brothers possessed, and regardless of cursing yourself with two forms, your skin will never exist in the human world. For this, I shall place my own curse on you."

Soon, her hand gripped his arms as his entire body turned into a tornado. Lightning and rain and hail shot out all along the sides. When it ended, the man lay there on the ground again, but this time his skin was decorated permanently. His body was the balance of love and hate, the balance of day and night, star and night sky, dark cloud and bright hailstone. Half of his body was black, and the other white. The black side had white spots and the white side had black spots. The Creator smiled in satisfaction.

"Now, Unnoshiit..the boys will be forever separated by your evil doing, but you will at least forever show them on your handsome body. Your forms are your curse, but as a human, no woman will sleep with a man painted this way. The brothers and your selfishness and greed, for that all of you shall be punished with loneliness forever. Everything you fought against love to have, you shall never possess."

Unnoshiit frowned but laughed at her, already re-checking himself in the river.

"Silly Creator, the people know nothing of spirits. The people will never know I am anything different."

The old woman smiled at him, her wrinkles lovingly forming her delicate old face.

"You are right, Unnoshiit...but one day the people will learn of ceremony. They will learn of me and their place within turtle island's natural order. They will sing and dance to me and even cause themselves pain for me and for the love of their people. For this..I will share with them stories of spirits...of tricksters such as yourself. One day, Unnoshiit..they will know of your colors, of your appearance...and they will fear you. They will fear to trust you. They will know you are of no good. My curse to you is loneliness."

With that The Creator smiled her old grandmother smiled and seemed to disappear in every direction. Into the tree's leaves, into the stones, the grass, the water.


Many many moons later, more than can be counted. The people grew strong and dispersed all over Turtle Island. The Creator opened holes in the ground and out came many mighty beasts such as the bears and the buffalo. The people learned how to hunt these beasts and became strong nations. As people witnessed these occurrences, they knew a higher power was guiding them and watching them. Often she would send them visions and dreams teaching the people of humility, of compassion, love, devotion, perseverance, and many other honored traits. She made the people of her land aware of spirit beings. Many were there to help the people just as much as there were to harm and trick the people. Through experience in learning which were good and bad, the people began to pass down stories of foolish men being tricked by the spider, by the coyote and wolf. For men and women who fell in lust with pretty faces of painted people only to realize their souls were taken from them.

They learned of the Wanati..the black and white painted man who would turn into a spider and a wolf..he would come to trick the people for his amusement, even kill some. He depended on them for their blood and their souls. His hunger could never be quenched, his sexual desires never fulfilled. The people did not know of the birth of this trickster shape-shifting spirit. For he was created before the time of stories and dreams. The Wanati would always be alone, a wandering hunter of blood and souls, a lonely crying wolf in the night, a viscous spider venomous enough to kill tribes of people with a single drop of his venom. His unhappiness and curses would forever make him seek to harm the people of Turtle Island, to pay The Creator back for his curses, for his hatred of the two brothers Wolf Runs Two and His Eyes Are Many. He paid the price to learn that love can never be created nor destroyed. The effort in doing so would curse him for all eternity.

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In the true worlds of Native people, trickster and evil spirits existence in every tribe. The Sioux people call him Iktomi, the trickster spider who often accompanied a wild canine in his plots to trick people for his own self gain and inflict pain upon the people. Men have gone through many humorous jokes to pretend to be the Wanati to steal women and horses from enemy tribes or to get back at foes. Some people have even been tricked into being forced to bestow the curse of the Wanati. Anyone he is able to trick and fool turns into a part of him, another Wanati. He does it to to try to ease his bad heart..his pain and loneliness, but only to a small fraction does it leave him when he bestows the curse onto others.

Among the world's true..eternally damned.