Gramper

Gramper Soulmarsh - Sofali Hsunchen and would-be Shaman

Gramper is a young sofali-worshipping hsunchen from the swamps and mudflats around Choralinthor Bay. His father was a tribal shaman and Gramper was brought up in this tradition. He studied hard for many years, listening keenly to the voices of his father, the Great Ancestor Turtle, the spirits and plants about him. Finally he was told that before he could continue his instructions as a shaman he had to travel the land and learn of the world about him so that he had Knowledge of use to his people. Gramper would have to go on Swimabout.

Within me, Sofal

Grandfather Turtle was first to be called by Earthmaker, and He swam from the South, and came to bear the weight of the Earth upon his back. And although He carries this great burden, mindful that all the world depends upon Him, it is as nothing to Him, so mighty is He, as He swims through the Great Waters, going where He will.

Our people too go where they will, we wander far and see much, for is not the whole world the province of Our Grandfather Sofal? Sometimes it is good to rest in some place for a while, it is true, to bear children on the solid earth, and to settle and let the Spirit turn inward on Its journey. But always there follows the time for moving, and so our people follow the currents of their hearts, and let their Spirit take them where It will. Across the oceans from the Far South we came, the Sofali, my people, like Our Grandfather before us. To The East we have travelled, and settled, and moved on yet again. Some stay to protect our birthing grounds and beaches, but always the Spirit of our people moves on once more. North we came, and then to The West, and from here, though we have rested for generations by the clear calm Mirrorsea, we shall surely move again. Our boats are ever ready to bear us on the back of the waters.

For though we go here, and then again there, and although some move on , and some are left behind, always we are united; our kinfolk are all around us, from ages past, all the way back to Grandfather Sofal. And although we may seem few, we are many. And although we may seem scattered, we are as One. And although some may walk and have power of craft and speech and knowledge of the surface, and some may swim and have power of dumbness and knowledge of the deep spaces, we are in harmony. Such movement is as nothing to us, for our home is the Whole World. We are one with each other, one with Sofal, one with Earthmaker, one with Korgatsu.

It is as nothing to me to leave my kin behind me, for they go with me and they go before me. It is only right that I tread my own path, for it is the path of all my people. And wheresoever I go, always I will return, whether in the Flesh or in the Spirit. So it has been revealed to me by my father, as it was to him by his father.

And though I am young and naïve, I am old and learned. And though I am brash and a fool, yet I am prudent and wise. For all my ancestors before me are in me and with me. And although I be dead, yet will I be alive.

Swimabout

It is a most extraordinary affair, and puzzles me greatly even now. The Man-who-was-a-Dragon came to the Man-who-was-a-Turtle by the seashore, and I was wet and naked and dancing with a tiny man, he is the size of a child but formed like a man down there, and a beautiful naked lady, she stiffen you just to look on her. And the Dragonchild, he bangs on a skin drum a long long time, on and on. Oh, how we dance, and the Spirit he fly round and he sing songs that we cannot know or understand. Then my Spirit-Self go fly with this Man-who-was-a-Dragon, while my Flesh-Self dance with the lady and the little man. He shows me where he wants me to go, long we fly, then he brings me back and says to come again, but on my own this time. I try to speak to him to ask him How, but all that comes is a strange dry grumble, and the little man he falls down dead. I try to speak again to ask him Why, and the lady falls down too. So I try to tell the Dragonchild I am sorry they have died, but again all that comes is the cawing and the squawking, and the Dragonchild drops his drum and falls down dead.

I tell my father of the Man-who-was-a-Dragon who came to the Man-who-was-a-Turtle. So then I asked my father if it was true that if there are a people born of turtles, and a people born of eagles, and a people born of otters, is there also a people born of dragons. In the way that is usual he did nothing to answer my question, but he called me a fool, for so I am. He told me he can say me nothing more, and I must go my way and Swimabout before he can see me again, and not return until I am ready to waken my Spirit-Self, and ready to fight with the Bad Man. Then he leer and roll his eyes at me like he is just the Holy Man, and not my father at all.

‘Where I go now?’ I cry out, mournful and afraid, and he says ‘Follow to where Father Loon come from. Follow the currents that used to flow from the seas up into the mountains. Follow your Drum and your strange Song. Seek your strange Spirit, and Sofal be with you, and Father be with you, and Father be with you.’ He say that last thing twice, turn away and did not look back.

When I leave the boats, everybody have their backs to me and stay silent. No sound from no mouth anywhere. Only sound the birds, the tide and the drumming.

And every night I hear the drum get louder, and every day the Dead Ones come to sing.