Stiffly the old man rose to his feet. The boys followed and together they walked along the ridge path to the upper entrance of the Interpretive Centre. Danny hung back a little. He found himself reluctant to go inside the building.
“What’s the matter Danny? Don’t you want to see the exhibits?” Joshua was puzzled.
“Well yes, kind of.” Danny struggled to identify his feelings. “It’s just that… a building…” He made a wide sweeping gesture that encompassed the jump and the magnificent view, and the pictures his inner eyes had conjured up. “It’s just that THIS… it’s great. You can’t put things like this in a building.” He scanned the scene thoughtfully. “After watching a real Indian ceremony and then seeing the Buffalo Jump, I’m scared that the exhibits will be a letdown,” he continued honestly.
The old man smiled gently but said nothing.
Joshua punched Danny’s arm. “Aw come on, you’re just being weird. The Interpretive Centre is full of neat stuff. Did you bring the lance point?”
Danny nodded and patted the back pocket of his cutoffs.
Joshua led the way through the doors of the Interpretive Centre, pressed a button for the elevator and the three of them travelled down to the exhibit levels.
Danny wandered happily on his own through the displays. Joshua was right, there were wonderful things to be discovered. Peigan stories of the creation of the earth; explanations of the native names for the seasons; the use of herbs and wild foods that Danny had never realized could be eaten; clothing, fire making, drums and rattles. Danny even found a magical ’iniskim’—the buffalo stone.
“I wonder if you’re the one the holy woman sang to when she called the buffalo,” Danny whispered as he bent down and looked at it with awe.
The iniskim was small, black and buffalo-shaped. Its well-polished surface gleamed dully as though it had been rubbed and handled during many years of ceremonies. Danny could feel the power pulsing from it. His head whirled and he had to turn away.
“Holy Comoly,” he gasped.
There they were… just as if they’d been ’called’ by the Holy Woman… just exactly as he’d imagined them…. A magnificent group of buffalo poised on the edge of the reconstructed jump, buckling at the knees and frozen in time as they were about to topple over to their deaths.
“WOW!” Danny went closer and looked at the brown muscular beasts whose shoulders towered above him. “You’re massive.”
Even stuffed and on display the buffalo emanated power and strength. Danny leaned over the barrier to stroke the rough hairy hide.
“Don’t touch the exhibits!” A brisk looking woman in a red jump suit called out sharply as she walked through the gallery. Danny blushed and moved back quickly but still stared at the animals.
“The buffalo were our strength.” Behind Danny, the old man appeared again and spoke quietly. “That is why we honour them. We wasted nothing that the buffalo gave us. Without them…?” the old man’s voice died away.
Danny grappled to understand the undercurrents he could sense behind the old man’s speech. “But YOU didn’t die out, only the buffalo. You still have tipis and language and ceremonies. Even the Sundance.” He gulped as he remembering it was a forbidden subject. “I’m sorry,” he stammered, embarrassed. “I just… it always fascinated me… in the Fort Macleod museum.”
“Ah yes. The photograph on display. Joshua told me.” The old man moved over to a seat and motioned for Danny to join him.
“In all cultures there are differences, and in First Nations cultures there are some things that white people find hard to understand.” The old man spoke seriously but without anger. “We believe that some things should not be shown or explained. This includes the sacred ritual of the Sundance. We do not talk about it. The sites are sacred sites… hidden from eyes that don’t understand. The ritual is secret and holy. It should have never been photographed. In your society you have anthropologists, people who try and discover our rituals and explain them. But we are people, not interesting animals to be studied and explained. We are a people. We have sacred beliefs we choose not to share.”
Danny sat quietly, trying to marshall his muddled thoughts to explain his point of view to the old man. “See… see… it’s hard not to be nosey,” Danny stammered earnestly. “Like… I’m real interested. I want to know everything and see everything. And the sacred stuff’s the most interesting.” Danny paused, grappling for words.
The old man waited patiently.
“I guess it’s hard to understand because in our culture we don’t have anything that holy,” Danny said slowly.
“Some of you do,” said the old man gently. “Do you go to church Danny, to Mass?”
Danny shuffled uncomfortably. “Mom does, but Dad and I don’t go very often,” he admitted. “Actually, just once or twice a year, like Christmas,” he added honestly.
“What about the wafers and wine?” questioned the Old Man. “Could they be taken and displayed in a museum?”
“Oh no,” said Danny definitely, “They’re holy… they’re consecrated.” He stopped suddenly, realizing the impact of his statement. “You mean that’s kinda like the Sundance?”
The old man eased himself out of the seat, nodded at Danny and left. Danny stared after him.
Joshua appeared around the corner.
“I think I’ve offended your grandfather,” said Danny unhappily, and he explained what had happened.
“It’s OK,” Joshua reassured him. “The elders like to leave you to work things out for yourself.”
“Sheesh…” Danny’s breath expelled slowly. “If the Sundance ceremony is really sacred…” He shook his head as if to clear it. “Joshua, that photo shouldn’t be in the museum. I wonder if we can do anything about it?”