The Legend of the Phantom by Jacob Nelson Page B

well.”
    “Aye, let’s give it a try,” replied Kit.
    Kit asked Miya to ask the old man to rise, and as the old man rose, he did so with an astounded look upon his face.
    “May I ask you a question, O great one?” he reverently intoned as he took in Kit’s features. Miya translated.
    “You may ask,” Kit simply replied, trying to guess what sort of trouble he had landed himself into this time.
    “Are you the Great Spirit?” the old man asked almost silently.
    As Miya translated the question to Kit, he wondered. “Why do you ask that of me?” replied Kit, still trying to fathom what the old man was getting at.
    “I saw you at the top of the rock,” he replied through Miya, “and then you were at the bottom,” he continued. “There was not time for you to climb and no man can survive such a fall,” he continued, saying the words that the other braves were thinking.
    As Miya finished translating, Kit laughed. The laughter brought up the old man’s eyes, and Kit composed himself quickly. “I am made of flesh, as yourself,” he stated, grabbing the man’s hand. “I am no spirit.”
    “But, I see the sign of death upon your hand,” responded the chief.
    “This one in the shape of a skull is to cause fear in the hearts of your enemies,” replied Kit via Miya. “As for the other…” Miya continued, grabbing up Kit’s hand to show the old man the ring.
    “I do not know the other sign.”
    “The other in the shape of his crossed swords is a sign of protection to be given to those that I bestow it upon.”
    “So you are the defender of all that is evil?” persisted the old man.
    “Yes,” responded Miya, not allowing Kit to even answer.
    “Then you are the Wind Walker,” the old man stated, satisfied. Miya translated the name literally.
    “ Kit Wind Walker. I like that name for you Kit,” she added of her own accord.
    “I am beginn ing to like that name too, Miya,” said Kit, momentarily lost in her eyes.
    “Kit Wind Walker,” repeated Miya. “Yes, I really like that name.”
    Kit just blushed.
    The Chief continued, and Miya continued to translate for them. “How is it that you know not the tongue of the people?”
    “I speak the language of the gods,” replied Kit through Miya. “It is a blessing when people can use the language gifts the gods have given them. I have therefore chosen to let this girl be blessed of the gods. For this reason she translates for me.”
    Having settled the first account, the chief then turned an arm out toward the unconscious man on the ground. “And what will you have of him? He is my son, and he did not know that this was a sacred home to you. Will you restore his spirit to his body?”
    “Your son…” began Kit. Then realizing that this may be a great way to make life-long friends, Kit started over. “This girl that your men had with them is a servant of mine and with her help I will see if I can restore your son’s spirit to his body.” He thought for a second longer and added, “But it may take some time and even then the Great Spirit may not wish to let his spirit come back to his frame.”
    “The old chief nodded his head. “As the Great Spirit dictates.”
    An old woman, the medicine woman of the tribe, approached the chief and with an accusing finger pointed at Kit. “We do not know that he is a Wind Walker. He may instead be an evil servant sent from the great mischief maker. Let us do our rituals first and if the chief’s son is not recovered, then we will let them do theirs.”
    The chief reluctantly agreed.
    The rest of the braves each laid a hand under the brave, and as a body of four, carried the brave back to the chief’s hogan, a specially built home constructed of logs, bark, and packed earth in a round dome-roofed shape, according to instructions found in the Navajo creation story: the sections of the hogan corresponding to the structures of the universe; the earthen floor representing Mother Earth and the round roof