Quaguahela and its bears-Walk with Me

FIRST TIME IS A QUAQUELA QUAQUELA. He lives in peace with his tribal members on the banks of the Styx River right at the point where the river fuses with the lake **. Tribal life is very busy and full of tradition. The fighters are diligent in hunting and fishing, while the women cook and care for the children and the parents, and all live in peace with the nature that surrounds them.

One day, Quaquahela decided to go to visit another tribal village far enough away from his own village, to the south. He departed at dawn, pedaled a canoe across the waters of the lake, and then walked by the lake to a friend's lodge for the purpose of staying there before he went on his journey. Not a kilometer away he walked off the edge of the lake, he heard the voice of a beast that growled loudly, then a giant bear suddenly staggered towards him from behind a bush not far from the chief.

Fortunately, the Quaquahela carry a stick of war and a set of hunting tools; however, the bears are his protective beasts [totem] and therefore it is a traditional offense for him to kill the beast. So Quaquahela ran back to the canoe boat he was mooring on the shores of the lake in order to escape. But the bear swung his body forward and struck the tribal chief to the ground.

Desperate, Quaquahela had no choice but to wrestle with the bear, striking him repeatedly with his wand stick, while continuing to try to dislodge her. Blood stains the ground where they grapple from the tribal wound and the bear. Finally, the chief drew his knife and stabbed the bear repeatedly around his head and throat until it gave off a deafening long roar. Quaquahela crawled as hard as possible from beneath the bear's body, which overlapped it and, moments later, it collapsed to the ground. His body was torn here and there, and there were some broken bones. The wounds were heartbreaking. With difficulty, the chief tilted his body to stare at his enemy figure lying helplessly. Her protective animal. The bear is dead. As she moaned with regret and despair, Quaquahela let her head fall to the ground with increasingly wounded wounds. Shortly after, he also died.

Meanwhile, the chief companion, who knew nothing of Quaquahela's plans to stay in his little hut, was unaware that there had been a great battle over the lake until two days later, when he found a large bear body lying there. The chief's canoe boat was also moored not far from there, and he also found the war stick and the knife's knife lying near the bear. Both objects are covered in blood. However, Quaquahela's body is not found everywhere; there was only a trace of a herd of wolves who concluded that the chief had been dragged away by the herd of predators. So the companion summoned a number of tribal warriors to search for the remains of the tribe's head, though without result.

A month later, on the night of the full moon, the Quaquahela tribe saw a strange mist swirling into the sky from the side of the hill not far from the village where they lived. The fog was on the air like a campfire smoke. That night the sky was very bright and the moonlight illuminated every corner of the village, but the strange mist seemed to be denser and hung in the same position even though the wind was blowing from the trees around. The confused tribesmen stared at the mist, and wondered why the fog could be there.

That night, the Quaquahela tribal chief appeared in the village dukun. "It's me," said the chief, "who appeared between the fog on the hillside. I have killed the bear responsible for my death, and so I set up a spirit cottage on the side of the hill, where you see tonight. "

The chieftain promised the village healer that he would always accompany tribal members in all of their journeys, to ensure their safety to return to relatives. And he also said, if they doubted his presence among them, they simply turned to the side of the hill. The fog collected in that place was the smoke rising from the ghost hut he had built, and the smoke would continue to soar up to reach the peaks of tall trees. That way, the members of the tribe can ensure that their spirits will always be with them forever. And when they call him, he will answer the call.

The village healer conveyed the chief's words to all the villagers the next morning. Hearing that, they also rejoiced to know that their tribal chief, Quaquahela, was still with them. Some of them shouted and hummed to the side of the hill where the hood of the tribe's head was located, and every shouting and humming of them was reciprocated by the sound echo. So the village dungun is being watched as legitimate.

To this day, swirling fog-like smoke, coming from the Quaquahela spirit lodge, is still often seen on hilltops when it's rainy or humid. And anyone who shouts at the head of the tribe will be reciprocated in the form of a sound echo.