inanga > Head to Whiskey Spring

'Are you alone?'

I answered carefully:

'No there are two others. They aren't far behind me.'

'Oh, there they are' one of the hikers pointed.

I turned and saw two figures in the distance. it was my pursuers. They waved to me, happy that I was leaving in the direction they had told me to. I waved back and continued down into Peralta Canyon, past the so-called Geronimo's Cave towards the road head. I was thoroughly determined to move back into the Superstitions at the earliest opportunity. When I emerged at the Peralta road head my pursuers would have expected me to go out to highway 60 via the access road. 

I borrowed some water and sat down to prepare a hot drink of tea. Not far from me was Don's Camp but I had no intention of going in that direction. I packed up and proceeded east along the Dutchman's Trail towards Miner's Needle and Coffee Flat. Just before dusk I sneaked well off the trail to make camp, at a point where the Dutchman's and Coffee Flat trails met. It was a well concealed spot but all around the desert floor were patches of hedgehog cactus. I emptied the barbs of other cacti from my boots and started to prepare something to eat. As usual a piece of fruit, usually an orange, and some beef jerky. I shooed away some Walapai Tiger kissing bugs and some millipedes and lay down with my only my thoughts. 

Tomorrow I would start to return to Weaver's Needle via the Dutchman's Trail and whatever shortcuts I found. Water would not be a problem as I would pass Bluff Spring, Oak Spring, La Barge Spring, an unnamed spring in Music Canyon and Charlebois Spring on the way to Needle Canyon. I pondered the location of the watchers. If they watched over the Massacre Grounds then what other parts of the Superstition Wilderness did they watch over?

As I lay looking at the clear sky i heard a voice.

'Over here.'

I turned and looked. It was an old Native American. He had a black cowboy hat covering his long silver and black hair,and a toothless smile.

I got up and walked towards him.

'You have had a little trouble in there' he said as he pointed to the northwest.

'Yes I must confess.'

'But you are going back. Can I ask why?'

'I don't really know.'

'You after the treasure?'

'I am not sure. If I found it I would leave it where it was, satisfied that I had found it.'

'You raven totem?'

His question surprised me. 

'I was given a raven once.'

'You look raven totem.'

He sat down near my small fire and for several minutes said nothing. Then he spoke.

'Don't head to Needle. Your answer is not there, is it?'

'I don't know.'

'Raven totem is not at the Needle. You must go northeast from Whiskey Spring beyond Picacho Butte and Coffee Flat Mountains. There is no trail. The spirit of the raven will guide you. It is dangerous there and few trails. But you will know where to go. There will be watchers who know what you are doing. Watchers like those at Shoofly.'

His comment surprised me initially. But then I thought that in this abnormal world of spirit there were always surprises. I was getting used to them.

'Were you at Shoofly?'

'No, but I know that you were there. I know you were at Tonto Bridge also. Some say you were at Casa Grande. You leave the stone, the stone of our forefathers, in the rivers. My people know you are searching. You find marker in Willow Canyon.'

'I have been watched all along I guess.'

'Yes, we wait for stone carriers to come. They sent by the ancestors. They know we are all related. From all four corners of the earth. They know of flood of long ago when the Tohono o'Odham gave us the secrets of water. We not want the gold, only peace.'

'And you sir. What is your tribe?'

'It is same as yours. Tohono. I live on second mesa with the Hopi, our relatives.'

'I am Tohono?'

'Yes. Your people were Tohono but from a different earth corner. There is no difference. We are one and same.'

'Would you like tea?'

'Yes.'

I poured him some tea and he sipped at it. I learnt in later conversation that he was a shaman of the Long Hair Kachinas, and that he was here to specifically tell me that I must search beyond the Lost Dutchman legend. The answer was not there. He sang:

'At the edge of a cornfield a bird will sing with them
in the oneness of their happiness.

So they will sing together in tune with the universal power,
in harmony with the one creator of all things.

And the bird song,
And the people's song,
And the song of life will become one.'

I listened as he sang it over and over and I fell into an almost trance-like state. We talked long into the night, stoking the fire regularly to keep us warm. He produced a pipe of Arizona pipestone and he stuffed it with Native tobacco. 

'Spirit rises with the smoke. Spirit joins in our hearts as we take in the smoke. The smoke is mixed in you and I. Now all spirits watch over you. See you safe to the end of this journey. Start you on a new journey and watch you then. Tomorrow I take you to Picacho Butte and show you the direction of your journey. Stay on the path I show you and you will come to the place chosen for you. Journey will not end there. A new journey begins there. Journey of the stone carrier is neverending. It goes also into the spirit world, beyond what we see. You will find the circle of life and meaning beyond your years. very old secret will unfold for you.'

He was foretelling what he thought would happen to me, but his words became even more cryptic.

'Snake wind through valley. Earthquake thrown trees and rocks down. Many die. Snake he finds apple tree and offers it to people of the river. River people are undecided. There are fish in the river. Snake writhes at center of his body, twists and turns. Twists and turns. It steals into the darkness of the valley. The fish lurk at bottom of the stream. Dead meat on ground where hawk flies overhead. Hawk looking. Snake gets tired. Snake unwinding. Hawk waits for it to die. Silence. Snake not moving. Snake spirit on journey. Hawk strikes at snake not moving. Hawk is eating. But snake spirit gone long ago to far off place. In new body same snake. Snake on wall twists in many places. far off places. Same snake each time. Same snake each time. Four corners of the world, and underworld, same snake spirit.'

I opened my bag and took out a greenstone pendant. Rubec had told me it was a grandfather stone. I gave it to the old man. Toby was his English name, from Tobias. He thanked me and then gave me a small plastic bag with seven pieces of azurite. 

'The medicine. For entry into life circle.'

We both fell asleep. When I woke Toby was preparing a herbal drink.

'For strength. You will need for your journey.'

I drank the cup he offered without question. I had no idea of its ingredients. He produced a small leather pouch.

'Inside is medicine. You have just drunk it. There is enough in bag for journey.'

He pinched a small amount between his thumb and forefinger and showed me how much to brew. I was starting to feel high, but not in a stoned sense. My feet felt light on the ground and I felt tall as if I could take giant strides. I imagined this is how I would feel if I was subject only to the moon's gravity.'

background: detail from 'Let Me Pass!, Kosovo' by inanga

courtesy of Google Earth, Panoramio, Picasa 3, SmugMug, Google and Mozilla Firefox 2009
inanga > Avocado Sunset, St Louis, Missouri

i had the privilege of visiting St Louis when i wrote the 'Plains States' for the first Lonely Planet US guide. i was fascinated with St Louis as one of my heroes Thomas Stearns (TS) Eliot was born in that city. He said that it inspired 'The Love Song of J.Alfred Prufrock', one of my all-time favorite poems. Here is what wiki says:

'In 1915 Ezra Pound, overseas editor of Poetry magazine, recommended to Harriet Monroe, the magazine's founder, that she publish "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock". Although the character Prufrock seems to be middle-aged, Eliot wrote most of the poem when he was only 22. Its now-famous opening lines, comparing the evening sky to "a patient etherised upon a table," were considered shocking and offensive, especially at a time when the poetry of the Georgians was hailed for its derivations of the 19th century Romantic Poets. The poem follows the conscious experience of a man, Prufrock (relayed in the "stream of consciousness" form characteristic of the Modernists), lamenting his physical and intellectual inertia, the lost opportunities in his life and lack of spiritual progress, with the recurrent theme of carnal love unattained. Critical opinion is divided as to whether the narrator leaves his residence during the course of the narration. The locations described can be interpreted either as actual physical experiences, mental recollections, or even as symbolic images from the sub-conscious mind, as, for example, in the refrain "In the room the women come and go." '

Across the 'river' from St Louis's famous arch are the Cahokia Mounds - hence the dream-catcher above. i have visited there also and i was fascinated with the pivotal location of the site, at the confluence of the Missouri and Mississippi rivers. For more on these see Another Roadside Attraction - the Treasure Hunt in this site. I left pounamu (greenstone) in many locations in the US when i was on my spirit quest - but not here under the arch. So with Google's Street cam, a wiki download and a painting of greenstone/pounamu (from Kuri's Big OE) amends have been made. Bernice, a friend of Ms P's, decided to send a message into the ether to her late father. Don, also born in Missouri, i hope you get this by ether-mail.

courtesy of Picasa 3, SmugMug, Google and Mozilla Firefox 2009
inanga > Thanks Richard

courtesy Google Earth and mfnw

inanga
inanga > Heart of Voh, New Caledonia

Google Earth image of 'Lac' Voh, New Caledonia (reminiscent of Yann Arthus-Bertrand's 'The Earth from Above' picture of the feature, now a Google icon) overlaid on detail from 'Beauty and the Beast' - see this gallery for the original

i went on a wild trip through New Caledonia a few years back. This wonder - the heart of Voh - is only visible from the air and it is a fluke to find it in the snaky delta of the Voh River on the north-western coast of New Cal using Google Earth.

courtesy of Google Earth images, SmugMug, Picasa 3 and Mozilla Firefox 2009

inanga
inanga > Los Meurtos, near Tempe, Phoenix, Arizona

Strange, but thet still celebrate this Day of the Dead in Los Muertos, near Tempe - the day when the Pima and the Papago (Tohono O'odham) overcame the Hohokam and cast them out. Again, you rightly ask - what has this to do with a treasure hunt in the Superstitions? Quite a lot. We know the treasure is being protected - the list of 'los muertos' - the Dead - being found in the Superstitions is far greater than any other similar lair of treasure hunters.

The battle between the 'old' ones and the Tohono o'Odham ('the people of the finger language, [Odham = Ogham]) has a lot to do with what is going on in the Superstitions, now, tomorrow, whenever. If you think you have no 4-D foes then boy (or girl) are you in for a little surprise. Between the 28th and 31st of October if you are anyway in downtown Phoenix you will see the 'dead' reemerge in ghoulish masks - some are even riding motorbikes. Let's say that out in 'them thar hills' they are lurking all the time.

Now Latter Day Saints, i am going to explain to you why you should have brought the Book of Mormon. This battle of long ago is mentioned in detail in your 'good' Book. Several clues are laid therein, between the lines so to speak. What you will read in that repository of wisdom is accurate, only the names have been concealed.

For example all negotiations with the Tohono o'Odham and their allies in the Superstitions is done using the septagesimal [7] system of Mosiah as this wiki feed explains:

'Measuring system

In Alma 11, Mormon lists "the names of the different pieces of their gold, and of their silver" and their relative value (Alma 11:4). It is unclear what kind of system "reckoning" and "measure" refer to, although most Book of Mormon scholars now believe they were weights, not coins. Mormon explains that

'the names are given by the Nephites, for they did not reckon after the manner of the Jews who were at Jerusalem; neither did they measure after the manner of the Jews; but they altered their reckoning and their measure, according to the minds and the circumstances of the people, in every generation.' (Alma 11:4)

Mormon then explains that this fluctuating system was replaced with a standard system established by Mosiah². Such a uniformity of measuring systems would have done much to unify the newly formed society, streamline the calculation of exchange rates in long-distance trade, and increase trade revenue.

Gold units 	    Silver units 	  Relative value (in measures of barley) 	Equivalent
limnah 	    onti 	                7
shum 	    ezrom 	                4
seon 	    amnor 	                2
antion 		                      1½
senine 	    senum 	              1 	a measure of barley; one day for a judge
	        shiblon 	              ½ 	half a measure of barley
	        shiblum 	              ¼
	        leah 	                      ⅛

[Ed: having trouble aligning these.]

One of the apparent purposes of this system was economy of use. A set of weights that contained one of each unit could be used to measure out increments of up to 14 units without needing two of the same weight. Thus, a Nephite merchant could use his small personal set of weights for a range of products being sold instead of relying on a large quantity of weights.[4]'

If you are really serious about getting to use these units out in the wild you better familiarize yourself with this book - 'The short, swift time of gods on earth: the Hohokam chronicles' by Donald M Bahr as it correlates very closely with the Book of Mormon. As i said, maybe just with a change of characterization. If you are confronted with certain questions out in the Superstitions, and you are half way up the Peralta Trail already, you may need to have a knowledge of this book as bargaining background with the Tohono o'Odham.

In the spring of 1935 Juan Smith and William Smith Allison, who both lived on the Gila Indian Reservation [just below Chandler on the clue map above], sang and spoke their story to Julian Hayden. Julian was then a resident of Tucson and had devoted his life to writing on Hohokam archaeology, particularly on archaeological digs relating to Tohono o'Odham culture in the region of the Salado and Gila river valleys.

The recorded words and songs of the two Pima Songsingers were interpreted by Donald Bahr, Professor of Anthropology at Arizona State University, and author of 'Pima-Papago Ritual Oratory' (1975) and 'Piman Shamanism and Staying Sickness' (1974).

As the blurb states:

'Now this extraordinary document is presented in its entirety for the first time.

Beautifully expressed and composed of thirty-six stories, the narrative constitutes a kind of scripture for a native church, beginning with the creation of the universe out of the void and ending in the sixteenth century of present-day villages.

Central to the story is the murder/resurrection of a god-man, Siuuhu, who summoned the Pimas and Papago (Tohono o'Odham) as his army of vengeance and brought about the conquest of his murderers, the ancient Hohokam.' [ISBN 0-520-08468-3].

If you merely and simply substitute 'Tohono o'Odham' for 'Nephites' and 'Hohokam' for 'Lamanites' you are starting to get close to some old truths. Check out this about the Book of Mormon courtesy of wikipedia:

'Chronology

The books from 1 Nephi to Omni are described as being from "the small plates of Nephi".[43] This account begins in ancient Jerusalem around 600 BC. It tells the story of a man named Lehi, his family, and several others as they are led by God from Jerusalem shortly before the fall of that city to the Babylonians in 586 BC. The book describes their journey across the Arabian peninsula, and then to the promised land, the Americas, by ship.[44] These books recount the group's dealings from approximately 600 BC to about 130 BC, during which time the community grew and split into two main groups, which are called the Nephites and the Lamanites, that frequently warred with each other.

Following this section is the Words of Mormon. This small book, said to be written in AD 385 by Mormon, is a short introduction to the books of Mosiah, Alma, Helaman, 3 Nephi, and 4 Nephi.[45] These books are described as being abridged from a large quantity of existing records called "the large plates of Nephi" that detailed the people's history from the time of Omni to Mormon's own life. The book of 3 Nephi is of particular importance within the Book of Mormon because it contains an account of a visit by Jesus from heaven to the Americas sometime after his resurrection and ascension. The text says that during this American visit, he repeated much of the same doctrine and instruction given in the Gospels of the Bible and he established an enlightened, peaceful society which endured for several generations, but which eventually broke into warring factions again.' 

For the battles which followed go directly to the Book of Mormon: http://scriptures.lds.org/en/3_ne/4

[more to come...Ed] 

clue courtesy of Spider Grandmother [if you stand back you will see her], Google Earth [the treasure hunt clue map], a Phoenician cactus [Devil's tongue barrel or Crow's claw barrel, 'Ferocactus latispinus'], Picasa 3, SmugMug, Google and Mozilla Firefox October 2009

inanga
inanga > Decalogue New Mexico
inanga > The Dead Heart of Oz
inanga > 'Crisis in Darfur'

My mate Simon the Peacemaker spent a bit of time in Darfur as a representative of the International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC). He told me of the utter chaos of the situation. We both reflected that this is not possible in the sophisticated world of today. 

Our fellows have been abandoned in the desert - their homes burned to the ground, their loved ones killed, their faith trodden upon - condemned to a constant life of fear and anxiety. How can this be? Africa is forgotten, abandoned to the 'too-hard-basket' of Western complacency.

It is our collective karma, and the persistence of such acts of genocide impedes our development to higher planes. It is as simple as that...the collective apathy towards our fellows in reflected in each one of us.

background inanga's paintings, Google, Google Earth and wiki images

courtesy of Picasa 3, SmugMug, Google and Mozilla Firefox 2009

inanga
inanga > African Woman!

i was fortunate as both a travel writer and climber to visit Africa on many occasions. i became addicted to African beauty. Nothing is as beguiling as an African woman's smile. It is filled with passion, and it inflames one's very soul. It is deepest, darkest Africa in all its bewildering manifestations - a trip up the river to see Mr Kurtz. He dead! ...into the very heart of darkness itself.

So this picture is dedicated to all those African women who set my soul on fire - in Lesotho, The Republic of South Africa, Swaziland, Kenya, Tanzania, Mauritius, Nigeria, Mali, Niger, Cote d'Ivoire, Egypt, Sierra Leone, Ghana, Liberia, Mauritania, Guinea, Benin, Togo, Guinea-Bissau, the Azores, The Gambia and Senegal. You melted a man's heart.

inanga
Head to Whiskey Spring

'Are you alone?'

I answered carefully:

'No there are two others. They aren't far behind me.'

'Oh, there they are' one of the hikers pointed.

I turned and saw two figures in the distance. it was my pursuers. They waved to me, happy that I was leaving in the direction they had told me to. I waved back and continued down into Peralta Canyon, past the so-called Geronimo's Cave towards the road head. I was thoroughly determined to move back into the Superstitions at the earliest opportunity. When I emerged at the Peralta road head my pursuers would have expected me to go out to highway 60 via the access road.

I borrowed some water and sat down to prepare a hot drink of tea. Not far from me was Don's Camp but I had no intention of going in that direction. I packed up and proceeded east along the Dutchman's Trail towards Miner's Needle and Coffee Flat. Just before dusk I sneaked well off the trail to make camp, at a point where the Dutchman's and Coffee Flat trails met. It was a well concealed spot but all around the desert floor were patches of hedgehog cactus. I emptied the barbs of other cacti from my boots and started to prepare something to eat. As usual a piece of fruit, usually an orange, and some beef jerky. I shooed away some Walapai Tiger kissing bugs and some millipedes and lay down with my only my thoughts.

Tomorrow I would start to return to Weaver's Needle via the Dutchman's Trail and whatever shortcuts I found. Water would not be a problem as I would pass Bluff Spring, Oak Spring, La Barge Spring, an unnamed spring in Music Canyon and Charlebois Spring on the way to Needle Canyon. I pondered the location of the watchers. If they watched over the Massacre Grounds then what other parts of the Superstition Wilderness did they watch over?

As I lay looking at the clear sky i heard a voice.

'Over here.'

I turned and looked. It was an old Native American. He had a black cowboy hat covering his long silver and black hair,and a toothless smile.

I got up and walked towards him.

'You have had a little trouble in there' he said as he pointed to the northwest.

'Yes I must confess.'

'But you are going back. Can I ask why?'

'I don't really know.'

'You after the treasure?'

'I am not sure. If I found it I would leave it where it was, satisfied that I had found it.'

'You raven totem?'

His question surprised me.

'I was given a raven once.'

'You look raven totem.'

He sat down near my small fire and for several minutes said nothing. Then he spoke.

'Don't head to Needle. Your answer is not there, is it?'

'I don't know.'

'Raven totem is not at the Needle. You must go northeast from Whiskey Spring beyond Picacho Butte and Coffee Flat Mountains. There is no trail. The spirit of the raven will guide you. It is dangerous there and few trails. But you will know where to go. There will be watchers who know what you are doing. Watchers like those at Shoofly.'

His comment surprised me initially. But then I thought that in this abnormal world of spirit there were always surprises. I was getting used to them.

'Were you at Shoofly?'

'No, but I know that you were there. I know you were at Tonto Bridge also. Some say you were at Casa Grande. You leave the stone, the stone of our forefathers, in the rivers. My people know you are searching. You find marker in Willow Canyon.'

'I have been watched all along I guess.'

'Yes, we wait for stone carriers to come. They sent by the ancestors. They know we are all related. From all four corners of the earth. They know of flood of long ago when the Tohono o'Odham gave us the secrets of water. We not want the gold, only peace.'

'And you sir. What is your tribe?'

'It is same as yours. Tohono. I live on second mesa with the Hopi, our relatives.'

'I am Tohono?'

'Yes. Your people were Tohono but from a different earth corner. There is no difference. We are one and same.'

'Would you like tea?'

'Yes.'

I poured him some tea and he sipped at it. I learnt in later conversation that he was a shaman of the Long Hair Kachinas, and that he was here to specifically tell me that I must search beyond the Lost Dutchman legend. The answer was not there. He sang:

'At the edge of a cornfield a bird will sing with them
in the oneness of their happiness.

So they will sing together in tune with the universal power,
in harmony with the one creator of all things.

And the bird song,
And the people's song,
And the song of life will become one.'

I listened as he sang it over and over and I fell into an almost trance-like state. We talked long into the night, stoking the fire regularly to keep us warm. He produced a pipe of Arizona pipestone and he stuffed it with Native tobacco.

'Spirit rises with the smoke. Spirit joins in our hearts as we take in the smoke. The smoke is mixed in you and I. Now all spirits watch over you. See you safe to the end of this journey. Start you on a new journey and watch you then. Tomorrow I take you to Picacho Butte and show you the direction of your journey. Stay on the path I show you and you will come to the place chosen for you. Journey will not end there. A new journey begins there. Journey of the stone carrier is neverending. It goes also into the spirit world, beyond what we see. You will find the circle of life and meaning beyond your years. very old secret will unfold for you.'

He was foretelling what he thought would happen to me, but his words became even more cryptic.

'Snake wind through valley. Earthquake thrown trees and rocks down. Many die. Snake he finds apple tree and offers it to people of the river. River people are undecided. There are fish in the river. Snake writhes at center of his body, twists and turns. Twists and turns. It steals into the darkness of the valley. The fish lurk at bottom of the stream. Dead meat on ground where hawk flies overhead. Hawk looking. Snake gets tired. Snake unwinding. Hawk waits for it to die. Silence. Snake not moving. Snake spirit on journey. Hawk strikes at snake not moving. Hawk is eating. But snake spirit gone long ago to far off place. In new body same snake. Snake on wall twists in many places. far off places. Same snake each time. Same snake each time. Four corners of the world, and underworld, same snake spirit.'

I opened my bag and took out a greenstone pendant. Rubec had told me it was a grandfather stone. I gave it to the old man. Toby was his English name, from Tobias. He thanked me and then gave me a small plastic bag with seven pieces of azurite.

'The medicine. For entry into life circle.'

We both fell asleep. When I woke Toby was preparing a herbal drink.

'For strength. You will need for your journey.'

I drank the cup he offered without question. I had no idea of its ingredients. He produced a small leather pouch.

'Inside is medicine. You have just drunk it. There is enough in bag for journey.'

He pinched a small amount between his thumb and forefinger and showed me how much to brew. I was starting to feel high, but not in a stoned sense. My feet felt light on the ground and I felt tall as if I could take giant strides. I imagined this is how I would feel if I was subject only to the moon's gravity.'

background: detail from 'Let Me Pass!, Kosovo' by inanga

courtesy of Google Earth, Panoramio, Picasa 3, SmugMug, Google and Mozilla Firefox 2009
inanga > Head to Whiskey Spring

'Are you alone?'

I answered carefully:

'No there are two others. They aren't far behind me.'

'Oh, there they are' one of the hikers pointed.

I turned and saw two figures in the distance. it was my pursuers. They waved to me, happy that I was leaving in the direction they had told me to. I waved back and continued down into Peralta Canyon, past the so-called Geronimo's Cave towards the road head. I was thoroughly determined to move back into the Superstitions at the earliest opportunity. When I emerged at the Peralta road head my pursuers would have expected me to go out to highway 60 via the access road. 

I borrowed some water and sat down to prepare a hot drink of tea. Not far from me was Don's Camp but I had no intention of going in that direction. I packed up and proceeded east along the Dutchman's Trail towards Miner's Needle and Coffee Flat. Just before dusk I sneaked well off the trail to make camp, at a point where the Dutchman's and Coffee Flat trails met. It was a well concealed spot but all around the desert floor were patches of hedgehog cactus. I emptied the barbs of other cacti from my boots and started to prepare something to eat. As usual a piece of fruit, usually an orange, and some beef jerky. I shooed away some Walapai Tiger kissing bugs and some millipedes and lay down with my only my thoughts. 

Tomorrow I would start to return to Weaver's Needle via the Dutchman's Trail and whatever shortcuts I found. Water would not be a problem as I would pass Bluff Spring, Oak Spring, La Barge Spring, an unnamed spring in Music Canyon and Charlebois Spring on the way to Needle Canyon. I pondered the location of the watchers. If they watched over the Massacre Grounds then what other parts of the Superstition Wilderness did they watch over?

As I lay looking at the clear sky i heard a voice.

'Over here.'

I turned and looked. It was an old Native American. He had a black cowboy hat covering his long silver and black hair,and a toothless smile.

I got up and walked towards him.

'You have had a little trouble in there' he said as he pointed to the northwest.

'Yes I must confess.'

'But you are going back. Can I ask why?'

'I don't really know.'

'You after the treasure?'

'I am not sure. If I found it I would leave it where it was, satisfied that I had found it.'

'You raven totem?'

His question surprised me. 

'I was given a raven once.'

'You look raven totem.'

He sat down near my small fire and for several minutes said nothing. Then he spoke.

'Don't head to Needle. Your answer is not there, is it?'

'I don't know.'

'Raven totem is not at the Needle. You must go northeast from Whiskey Spring beyond Picacho Butte and Coffee Flat Mountains. There is no trail. The spirit of the raven will guide you. It is dangerous there and few trails. But you will know where to go. There will be watchers who know what you are doing. Watchers like those at Shoofly.'

His comment surprised me initially. But then I thought that in this abnormal world of spirit there were always surprises. I was getting used to them.

'Were you at Shoofly?'

'No, but I know that you were there. I know you were at Tonto Bridge also. Some say you were at Casa Grande. You leave the stone, the stone of our forefathers, in the rivers. My people know you are searching. You find marker in Willow Canyon.'

'I have been watched all along I guess.'

'Yes, we wait for stone carriers to come. They sent by the ancestors. They know we are all related. From all four corners of the earth. They know of flood of long ago when the Tohono o'Odham gave us the secrets of water. We not want the gold, only peace.'

'And you sir. What is your tribe?'

'It is same as yours. Tohono. I live on second mesa with the Hopi, our relatives.'

'I am Tohono?'

'Yes. Your people were Tohono but from a different earth corner. There is no difference. We are one and same.'

'Would you like tea?'

'Yes.'

I poured him some tea and he sipped at it. I learnt in later conversation that he was a shaman of the Long Hair Kachinas, and that he was here to specifically tell me that I must search beyond the Lost Dutchman legend. The answer was not there. He sang:

'At the edge of a cornfield a bird will sing with them
in the oneness of their happiness.

So they will sing together in tune with the universal power,
in harmony with the one creator of all things.

And the bird song,
And the people's song,
And the song of life will become one.'

I listened as he sang it over and over and I fell into an almost trance-like state. We talked long into the night, stoking the fire regularly to keep us warm. He produced a pipe of Arizona pipestone and he stuffed it with Native tobacco. 

'Spirit rises with the smoke. Spirit joins in our hearts as we take in the smoke. The smoke is mixed in you and I. Now all spirits watch over you. See you safe to the end of this journey. Start you on a new journey and watch you then. Tomorrow I take you to Picacho Butte and show you the direction of your journey. Stay on the path I show you and you will come to the place chosen for you. Journey will not end there. A new journey begins there. Journey of the stone carrier is neverending. It goes also into the spirit world, beyond what we see. You will find the circle of life and meaning beyond your years. very old secret will unfold for you.'

He was foretelling what he thought would happen to me, but his words became even more cryptic.

'Snake wind through valley. Earthquake thrown trees and rocks down. Many die. Snake he finds apple tree and offers it to people of the river. River people are undecided. There are fish in the river. Snake writhes at center of his body, twists and turns. Twists and turns. It steals into the darkness of the valley. The fish lurk at bottom of the stream. Dead meat on ground where hawk flies overhead. Hawk looking. Snake gets tired. Snake unwinding. Hawk waits for it to die. Silence. Snake not moving. Snake spirit on journey. Hawk strikes at snake not moving. Hawk is eating. But snake spirit gone long ago to far off place. In new body same snake. Snake on wall twists in many places. far off places. Same snake each time. Same snake each time. Four corners of the world, and underworld, same snake spirit.'

I opened my bag and took out a greenstone pendant. Rubec had told me it was a grandfather stone. I gave it to the old man. Toby was his English name, from Tobias. He thanked me and then gave me a small plastic bag with seven pieces of azurite. 

'The medicine. For entry into life circle.'

We both fell asleep. When I woke Toby was preparing a herbal drink.

'For strength. You will need for your journey.'

I drank the cup he offered without question. I had no idea of its ingredients. He produced a small leather pouch.

'Inside is medicine. You have just drunk it. There is enough in bag for journey.'

He pinched a small amount between his thumb and forefinger and showed me how much to brew. I was starting to feel high, but not in a stoned sense. My feet felt light on the ground and I felt tall as if I could take giant strides. I imagined this is how I would feel if I was subject only to the moon's gravity.'

background: detail from 'Let Me Pass!, Kosovo' by inanga

courtesy of Google Earth, Panoramio, Picasa 3, SmugMug, Google and Mozilla Firefox 2009
Head to Whiskey Spring

'Are you alone?'

I answered carefully:

'No there are two others. They aren't far behind me.'

'Oh, there they are' one of the hikers pointed.

I turned and saw two figures in the distance. it was my pursuers. They waved to me, happy that I was leaving in the direction they had told me to. I waved back and continued down into Peralta Canyon, past the so-called Geronimo's Cave towards the road head. I was thoroughly determined to move back into the Superstitions at the earliest opportunity. When I emerged at the Peralta road head my pursuers would have expected me to go out to highway 60 via the access road.

I borrowed some water and sat down to prepare a hot drink of tea. Not far from me was Don's Camp but I had no intention of going in that direction. I packed up and proceeded east along the Dutchman's Trail towards Miner's Needle and Coffee Flat. Just before dusk I sneaked well off the trail to make camp, at a point where the Dutchman's and Coffee Flat trails met. It was a well concealed spot but all around the desert floor were patches of hedgehog cactus. I emptied the barbs of other cacti from my boots and started to prepare something to eat. As usual a piece of fruit, usually an orange, and some beef jerky. I shooed away some Walapai Tiger kissing bugs and some millipedes and lay down with my only my thoughts.

Tomorrow I would start to return to Weaver's Needle via the Dutchman's Trail and whatever shortcuts I found. Water would not be a problem as I would pass Bluff Spring, Oak Spring, La Barge Spring, an unnamed spring in Music Canyon and Charlebois Spring on the way to Needle Canyon. I pondered the location of the watchers. If they watched over the Massacre Grounds then what other parts of the Superstition Wilderness did they watch over?

As I lay looking at the clear sky i heard a voice.

'Over here.'

I turned and looked. It was an old Native American. He had a black cowboy hat covering his long silver and black hair,and a toothless smile.

I got up and walked towards him.

'You have had a little trouble in there' he said as he pointed to the northwest.

'Yes I must confess.'

'But you are going back. Can I ask why?'

'I don't really know.'

'You after the treasure?'

'I am not sure. If I found it I would leave it where it was, satisfied that I had found it.'

'You raven totem?'

His question surprised me.

'I was given a raven once.'

'You look raven totem.'

He sat down near my small fire and for several minutes said nothing. Then he spoke.

'Don't head to Needle. Your answer is not there, is it?'

'I don't know.'

'Raven totem is not at the Needle. You must go northeast from Whiskey Spring beyond Picacho Butte and Coffee Flat Mountains. There is no trail. The spirit of the raven will guide you. It is dangerous there and few trails. But you will know where to go. There will be watchers who know what you are doing. Watchers like those at Shoofly.'

His comment surprised me initially. But then I thought that in this abnormal world of spirit there were always surprises. I was getting used to them.

'Were you at Shoofly?'

'No, but I know that you were there. I know you were at Tonto Bridge also. Some say you were at Casa Grande. You leave the stone, the stone of our forefathers, in the rivers. My people know you are searching. You find marker in Willow Canyon.'

'I have been watched all along I guess.'

'Yes, we wait for stone carriers to come. They sent by the ancestors. They know we are all related. From all four corners of the earth. They know of flood of long ago when the Tohono o'Odham gave us the secrets of water. We not want the gold, only peace.'

'And you sir. What is your tribe?'

'It is same as yours. Tohono. I live on second mesa with the Hopi, our relatives.'

'I am Tohono?'

'Yes. Your people were Tohono but from a different earth corner. There is no difference. We are one and same.'

'Would you like tea?'

'Yes.'

I poured him some tea and he sipped at it. I learnt in later conversation that he was a shaman of the Long Hair Kachinas, and that he was here to specifically tell me that I must search beyond the Lost Dutchman legend. The answer was not there. He sang:

'At the edge of a cornfield a bird will sing with them
in the oneness of their happiness.

So they will sing together in tune with the universal power,
in harmony with the one creator of all things.

And the bird song,
And the people's song,
And the song of life will become one.'

I listened as he sang it over and over and I fell into an almost trance-like state. We talked long into the night, stoking the fire regularly to keep us warm. He produced a pipe of Arizona pipestone and he stuffed it with Native tobacco.

'Spirit rises with the smoke. Spirit joins in our hearts as we take in the smoke. The smoke is mixed in you and I. Now all spirits watch over you. See you safe to the end of this journey. Start you on a new journey and watch you then. Tomorrow I take you to Picacho Butte and show you the direction of your journey. Stay on the path I show you and you will come to the place chosen for you. Journey will not end there. A new journey begins there. Journey of the stone carrier is neverending. It goes also into the spirit world, beyond what we see. You will find the circle of life and meaning beyond your years. very old secret will unfold for you.'

He was foretelling what he thought would happen to me, but his words became even more cryptic.

'Snake wind through valley. Earthquake thrown trees and rocks down. Many die. Snake he finds apple tree and offers it to people of the river. River people are undecided. There are fish in the river. Snake writhes at center of his body, twists and turns. Twists and turns. It steals into the darkness of the valley. The fish lurk at bottom of the stream. Dead meat on ground where hawk flies overhead. Hawk looking. Snake gets tired. Snake unwinding. Hawk waits for it to die. Silence. Snake not moving. Snake spirit on journey. Hawk strikes at snake not moving. Hawk is eating. But snake spirit gone long ago to far off place. In new body same snake. Snake on wall twists in many places. far off places. Same snake each time. Same snake each time. Four corners of the world, and underworld, same snake spirit.'

I opened my bag and took out a greenstone pendant. Rubec had told me it was a grandfather stone. I gave it to the old man. Toby was his English name, from Tobias. He thanked me and then gave me a small plastic bag with seven pieces of azurite.

'The medicine. For entry into life circle.'

We both fell asleep. When I woke Toby was preparing a herbal drink.

'For strength. You will need for your journey.'

I drank the cup he offered without question. I had no idea of its ingredients. He produced a small leather pouch.

'Inside is medicine. You have just drunk it. There is enough in bag for journey.'

He pinched a small amount between his thumb and forefinger and showed me how much to brew. I was starting to feel high, but not in a stoned sense. My feet felt light on the ground and I felt tall as if I could take giant strides. I imagined this is how I would feel if I was subject only to the moon's gravity.'

background: detail from 'Let Me Pass!, Kosovo' by inanga

courtesy of Google Earth, Panoramio, Picasa 3, SmugMug, Google and Mozilla Firefox 2009
See photo in original gallery.

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