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2012 TREASURE HUNT CLUE #5: I'm an unpalatable plant, but my leaves, when fermented, have a use. What am I? (Answer: Dyeweed / dyer’s woad) (This is a Story about the Human Tribes -- see listing for related stories.) See me, Bear-Father. Listen to my plea, All-Mother. Take this blood that I offer you. Drink and listen to my war song. With this sacred paint, I go to war. With ash in my mouth, I am humble With the mare’s milk on my tongue, I am fast With the bear’s fat on my tongue, I am strong With the sacred blue on my skin, I will know no fear I paint my vows upon on my skin I paint my promises upon my horse I paint these things for all to see With the sacred paint, I vow to honor you and bring you gifts Gifts of blood. Gifts of meat. Gifts of slaves. These I will bring to you, in this life, or at your hearth in the next. With the taste of my own blood I wake the axe blade I wake the bow I wake the spear This — for each warrior whose life I have taken This — for each wound I have survived This — for each son I have fathered My foes will read who I am, and know they have tasted defeat by a worthy man So that they will look for me again at All-Mother’s hearth Where together will we drink and feast With the gift of my own blood into the sacred bowl I paint these promises onto my skin. I paint these vows onto my horse. For all to see and fear.
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