They paddled downriver toward summer-by-sunset for two days before camping at the mouth of the Big Salty River.

Each morning DeathSong stood watch as Eddie, MoonBeaver and Three-Rivers broke camp and loaded the canoe. During these times Mister Hicks would do his best to steal from the local squirrels. Not that there was any need to, but just to show his cunning. When approached by a squirrel he was stealing from on one occasion Mister Hicks sought the safety of DeathSong’s shadow. When he retreated to beneath the warrior’s feet he then stood his ground and disparaged his enemy, making fun of his whiskers as well as his seed-hiding techniques.

There was no need for Three-Rivers’ warrior to hunt as his disciples of Good-Summer-Town had provided them with plenty of corn, dried plums and smoked venison for their journey. It was the Moon of Winds; snow no longer fell and rain had yet to come. The world was still cold and somewhat white from the snows of winter. As yet no plants bloomed, but the bears had emerged, and it was a certainty that spring was nearly upon them.

He spent his days instructing MoonBeaver in storytelling and prayer and in teaching him English. The boy already spoke some of the language of the Summer-People. Other than that he only spoke the language of the Good-River-People, and some of the Beautiful-People’s. Three-Rivers relished the thought of helping MoonBeaver become a many-speaker like himself. He also taught him the rudiments of squirrel speech and they talked to the fish in the river below by tapping on the bottom of the canoe.

You have a fine disciple here Thunder-Boy. Hopefully he shall one day become as renown for good story-telling and magic-working as have you. A true prophet should leave behind disciples with medicine to rival his own.

As they were tapping to the fish he caught movement above the trees of the winter bank and saw him there. A majestic eagle soared up into the sky until it rose as high as a thunderbird, and then began a widening circle above their canoe.

Good morning Father. It is so nice to have you looking over us.

He heard the eagle from on high. None of the others, not even DeathSong, seemed to hear it. He had heard, and was comforted in his belief in Father. Since his transformation into Thunder-Boy Father had come less often. This had bothered him. But, having been contacted by one of Father’s totems, he was now satisfied that Father’s ghost had simply been confused by his new complexity and was having some problems channeling messages through his expanded and more deeply intertwined consciousness. Now, with clear evidence that Father was watching from within, he felt certain that the ghost of WhiteSkyCanoe would soon be speaking to him in a more comprehensive fashion.

Rather than commune any longer with himself he decided to enlighten MoonBeaver. “My dedicated disciple, as a visionary yourself it may someday come to pass that you shall be possessed by a ghost. The ghost might be minor or great, wise or foolish. But all ghosts are useful for communion and to enrich the mind of their host. Keep in mind that possession is not necessarily permanent and, while it may be a constant state-of-being—in that a ghost is residing within—it will not necessarily follow that there will be a constant state of communion. It is, in fact, the opposite. The ghost, if capable of possessing a person, is an important spirit, and will have other things to do, including possessing others alternatively, or visiting the inner realms or outer worlds. A powerful though busy ghost will often send one of his totems instead to look over his host while off on an errand, even as Father has sent the eagle above to look over me.”

MoonBeaver gazed skyward, thought for some time, and then replied sagely, “Thunder-Boy is there such a thing as a nagging ghost, like an ill-tempered wife, who would commune in a more constant or even continuous manner?”

“Oh no, that would only be true with a demonic possession. Ghosts vary greatly in their manifestations and knowledge, but they are universally polite. Only demons are rude.”

MoonBeaver was thrilled to be engaging in this discussion, and his enthusiasm raised the timbre of his squeaky voice, “I understand that your warrior here is possessed by a demon. Does his demon talk to him and send totems as would a ghost? Is his possession continuous as you implied?”

“Excellent questions MoonBeaver! DeathSong is a flesh-demon, meaning he possess his host through physical manifestations, primarily related to war and hunting. Most demons simply possess the mind of the host and manifest themselves through odd, reclusive or self-destructive behavior. You will notice that even when Bluebird is possessed by DeathSong—and even in battle—he never has the telltale eyes of the passive insane. His insanity is a dynamic state-of-being. This is indicated primarily by his wolf-like eyes. Furthermore, Bluebird’s possession by DeathSong is not entirely voluntary on the part of the demon. You see, DeathSong is banished by women and children and kindness, and summoned by enemies, and cruelty and danger. It is a very complex type of possession for a medicine-man to manage, and requires many of the prophet’s skills to master.

“I have spoken enough on this. You should be able to learn everything you need to know about flesh-demons by observing our protector, keeping in mind that he is our protector even when possessed. You see a fury—as the Sunset people called Greeks name flesh-demons—is not necessarily evil, only furious; able to vent his rage for good or evil.”

MoonBeaver nodded to Three-Rivers with the conspiratorial look of the just-informed-holder-of-a-secret. He then crept up behind DeathSong and pinched his leg. The man looked down at the curious youth as if expecting a question. MoonBeaver winked at Three-Rivers and took his place at the foot of his prophet and the possessed warrior shook his bald scarred head and went back to his paddling and riverbank gazing.

MoonBeaver whispered with his chin between his knees, “Thunder-Boy, you are so lucky to be served by such a demon. Do you think The Beginner will ever send me such a demon?”

“Who is to say MoonBeaver. However, just in case you are granted one I will let you practice summoning, controlling and banishing this one. You must first learn to speak English and Uneducated Shit, for he converses in no other tongues.”

The youth’s voice carried a note of determination, “Excellent!”

He thought it only proper to offer a final overall piece of advice for self-learning about spiritual matters. “MoonBeaver, as you experience life it can be like walking in a dream, with things that seem different on the surface but the same underneath. Consider that The Beginner to us is, the AllSpirit to many, God to the White Men and Burnt Men, the Mother Creator to the Summer-People, and the Master of Life to the Original-ones to whom we now journey; many but one, one but many.”

They canoed lazily for two more days toward winter-by-sunset until they came to a river that emptied into the Good-River from winter. There was a town of the Summer-People at the mouth of this river. They had been awaiting their arrival so there followed three days of ceremonies and prophecy and storytelling. They were provisioned for 14 days, which is how long they were expected to journey to reach the Great River which Father had called the Big Muddy. They were also warned against enemies and told that neither bank would be safe for camping after they had passed the Three Islands. The Summer-People were not friends with those downriver. They still offered to send guides. Three-Rivers declined, not wanting to endanger them among their enemies. He determined then that he would go among the people downriver as a prophet and propose that they journey to Good-Summer-Town to visit with Eggshell and T.T. Red Bone.