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Reveal or Conceal?
though I was completely unnerved, I finally indicated: “Okí, Pi’ita! I
would follow you but I cannot fly.” The eagle respectfully but firmly
commanded, “Just grab my tail feathers.” I did, and we were imme-
diately airborne.
Flying at a considerable height over the prairies, we found the wind
coming directly at us from the south, becoming increasingly stron-
ger until Pi’ita was struggling, and I could barely maintain my grip
on his tail feathers. I called out to him that I could not hold on any-
more; it was too difficult, and I was very cold. I wanted to go home,
I said. I listened carefully, but there was no audible response. The ea-
gle then shifted direction radically westward, toward the very edge
of the foothills. As we approached the mountains, he turned slightly
south again. We were now tucked up close to the mountains, and the
wind became a gentle, though still quite cold, breeze. I felt I had a
good sense of where we were, over a country road I frequently used
to avoid traffic on my Sunday trips to the reserve. I was, at one and
the same time, fully enjoying the trip (it was beautiful) and terribly
frightened, as I had no idea what he wanted from me or, ultimately,
what was going to happen.
Now that the eagle was flying south, the trip became much easier,
and I relaxed the hand that had originally seized his tail feathers in a
fist, until I barely had a fingertip on a single feather. I marveled (in the
dream) that he could support our combined weight and drag, and that
just the slightest contact between us, just the pad of one fingertip, was
sufficient to keep us connected and airborne. Though still anxious, I
began to relax and surrender to his direction. For some time, I sim-
ply watched as the landscape transformed below. I realized that I was
in pajamas, actually a long cotton gown—not something I ordinar-
ily wore, and that my feet were bare. I was almost too relaxed now. I
tried to lean over a bit to look over the eagle’s left shoulder so I could
see his face and speak to him. Then, suddenly, my fingertip lost con-
tact with his tail feathers. I held my breath for a moment, anticipat-
ing a fall. Instead of falling, the journey abruptly ended. We did not
land, nor even attempt to land. We were simply on the ground stand-
ing by a Sundance tree in the midst of an abandoned arbor.
The place was familiar. In the dream I remember thinking it was
