A young Kiowa brave stood quietly in the midst of blackberry bushes and waited for a giant elk to approach him.
"Welcome, my brother," the brave, named Broken Face, reached out his hand and stroked the neck of the elk. "And how is Bear Killer on this fine day?"
The elk snorted and shook his mighty antlers. When the elk had been young, he had been attacked by a bear. The bear had raked the elk's hide with his sharp claws, leaving scars that still showed after ten years. The struggle had been vicious, the bear had nearly won until the young elk had speared the bear with one of his pointed antlers and the bear had died.
The elk had been called Bear Killer, and no Native American would ever point an arrow at the mighty elk. The elk grew to be huge and had a large herd of cows and had produced over a hundred elk calves. He was the king of the lush mountain meadows.
Broken Face was a strong, fine-looking young brave except for his face, which was badly scarred, and his jaw was crooked where it had been broken when he was an infant. His mother had walked too closely to the river while she carried her baby in her arms, and the path had crumbled beneath her feet and she had slipped and fallen on the rocks.
His mother had drowned and Broken Face had lived, but he had suffered terrible damage to his face from the jagged rocks. He'd been an outcast in the tribe all his life. He was blamed for his mother's death, and his scars and crooked jaw were a constant reminder of the horrible accident.
"I will not see you again," Broken Face said, "I'm going away, far away. I will find a new tribe to live with and will start a new life where no one knows me."
"I will miss you, but you can not run away. Your face will go with you as well as your name, and the new tribe will be the same as the old tribe," said Bear Killer. " It is not the people or place you must change; you must change yourself and change your name. Yes, I am proud of the scars on my hide from the bear's claws because it shows I am a survivor, but you are also a survivor.
"Perhaps your mother died trying to save you. If that is true, she didn't die so you would have half of a life and live ashamed. You lived. You survived. You should be proud of yourself and your mother. You are alive for a reason. Your name should be something noble and proud."
'Your scars are on the outside, mine are on the inside. I would trade with you.
You are brave, you are known as Bear Killer. I'm known as Broken Face; my face will never heal, never change," Broken Face said.
"That's true. I wear my scars with honor . . . you wear your scars with shame. Your mother died so you could live; would she be proud of you now? Was her sacrifice worth it?" Bear Killer asked. "I will give you a new name, from now on you will be called Rising Moon, and you will not answer to any other name.
"Every night when the moon rises, it is different; the seasons come and go. Sometimes the moon is round; sometimes it is crooked. It is different colors, but it is always the moon.
"You will always be your mother's son, but now you are Rising Moon and you have the right to be different, just as the moon is different every night. You are now a man, you are Rising Moon, and the boy named Broken Face is gone forever."
Rising Moon learned to be proud of who he was. He grew strong and wise and won the respect of the tribe. He found a good woman and had five children.
Both Bear Killer and Rising Moon lived to be old and stayed friends to the end of their days.
We all carry scars from our battles in life, some of us have scars on the outside, some have scars on the inside; we are survivors.
Crying Wind is the author of Crying Wind and My Searching Heart, When the Stars Danced, and Thunder in Our Hearts, Lightning in Our Veins.
