A Novel by Kawika A. Stafford

Chapter 6

Cyrus awoke to a chilly morning in the mountains of northern Arizona. He had slept in the hogan of his young friend Dwayne. Cyrus had served with Dwayne’s father, Russell Notah in the military. They had met at Schofield barracks, on the island of O’ahu in the early nineteen forties.

In the military you don’t have a first name.

Over time Russell just became Notah.

Russell was recruited to be a Navajo Code Talker.

Cyrus was an Army Ranger. Because Cyrus had such a long Hawaiian name that was too difficult for most to pronounce, they called him Mana. The two men had become inseparable during the war, and beyond.

Over the years Cyrus would travel from Hawaii to Arizona, staying for a month at a time with Russell on the Navajo Nation in Kayenta, Arizona.

Russell himself traveled to many countries before returning to his homeland.

In his travels Russell would visit Cyrus who lived in remote Waipi’o Valley, on the big island. Russell, who enjoyed farming would stay with Cyrus planting various fruit trees and vegetables, as well as helping Cyrus tend to his kālo patch.

It was a quiet morning in the mountains. A raven could be heard calling in the distance. Cyrus sat up on one elbow, remaining on his side. He had many fond memories of his old friend Russell. They had many conversations that often went late into the night.

The fire had burned down, with white ash, and a few embers of orange coals remaining in the bottom of the wood burning stove.

Cyrus placed a few pine needles on the white ash, blowing gently. A flame jumped up and consumed the needles. Cyrus then placed small pine sticks on top of the tiny fire. They began to crackle in the quiet of early morning.
The flames flickered gently upward, offering light and comfort to the old man.

As the warmth spread inside the hogan, the cool crisp air retreated back into the mountains. Cyrus began his day making coffee and having a pilot cracker and some butter. At some point he knew he would receive an expected guest. Dwayne had yet to wake up, for he had been up half the night talking to Sonny Ray.

The black eagle circled the hogan four times and landed on a ponderosa pine nearby.

The great black eagle perched quietly, waiting patiently for the old man to appear. It stared down intently at the hogan, it’s eyes fixed, pupils adjusting like the zoom lens of a camera. Its eyes filtered through the trees and smoke, searching for any movement. The door of the hogan creaked open slowly as the old man, wrapped in a blanket stepped outside, and began a search of his own.

The black eagle now cried out; its piercing black eyes detecting movement. Cyrus squinted his eyes and began to scan the tree tops. A smile slowly came over his face, as he observed the large predator staring down at him. “Good morning old friend, I trust your journey was a safe one. Come on down, so you can eat.”

The black eagle issued a quiet chirping reply, and leapt from it’s lofty perch. Cyrus held his gloved hand up, offering the predator a place to land. The black eagle landed firmly. It sat staring intently at the old man. Cyrus placed a small strip of raw elk meat on his gloved hand. The black eagle immediately clamped down on the raw meat, and began to eat ravenously. The black eagle looked up at the old man for a moment, and then continued to consume the elk meat.

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