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Location: Laughing Lady, Montana, United States

I am a mystic. Mostly concerned with the spiritual. I love the forests, which seem to me the least corrupted Word of God; unless, of course, the Big Whodunnit decides to send a live messenger.

Saturday, August 03, 2013

HUGH GLASS, A KNIFE AND A GRIZZLY

The Ballad of Hugh Glass a great book by John Neidhardt (Black Elk Speaks) is written in decasyllabic iambic pentameter.

You may not want to get any iambic pentameter on you: is it a foreign language?; is it sticky? No to both questions. In fact, after reading a few pages of the book, you probably won't even notice the meter; it's so easy on the mind and tongue. It is amazing, actually, how closely decasyllabic iambic pentameter is timed to speech. It seems to move from the mouth, tongue and throat into the chest. It is a good human imitation of the heroic voice.

The Silmarillion, a book length mythopoeic work by J.R.R. Tolkien, is also written in decasyllabic iambic pentameter. I listened to a recording of much of the 'Sil' and came away feeling like Moses or Odin, able to command a room full of big husky warriors. Decasyllabic iambic/trochaic pentameter is a sweeping monumental rhythm of language.

Enough of that.

The Ballad of Hugh Glass is a majestic, amazing and true story of Hugh Glass. Hugh fought with a knife against a grizzly sow that attacked him to protect her two cubs. 'Mauled' may leave one in a slightly better condition than 'maimed'; Glass experienced both conditions. Glass and Jim Bridger (19 at the time) and Fitzgerald managed to kill the griz but Glass, unconscious, looked like a fatality. Bridger and Fitzgerald volunteered to stay with Glass until he died. They started to dig his grave. Later they claimed that they saw "Arikaree" Indians preparing to attack them. They grabbed Glass's rifle, knife, and other equipment, and fled. Bridger and Fitzgerald reported to Henry that Glass had died.

Hugh Glass did not die. He had a broken leg and his back had been so ripped that his ribs were exposed. He had no rifle, knife, equipment or water. He set his own leg with some of the bear hide that Bridger and Fitzgerald had laid over him as a shroud and began crawling 200 miles to the nearest fort, driven by the need to avenge himself on the men who had deserted him.

Along the way he chased two wolves from a drowned buffalo calf and ate much of it. He laid on his back on a rotten log so the maggots could eat the dead flesh. The Pawnees sewed the bear hide to his back to cover the wounds.

He also ate 'wild cherries' on his trek. It is the wild cherries that reminded me of this story.

I asked a Sun Dance leader about the cherry sticks that Sun Dancers are pierced with. Where do they come from? I am a 70-year-old native Montanan and I've never seen a wild cherry. The man said, "Chokecherries."

If you like a story in the grand fashion -- one that ends in a very touching act of nobility -- I recommend The Ballad of Hugh Glass.

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