mt holes.<br >ak<br >or years untold.<br >~ony<br >t worn<br > unsung lives<br >old.<br >trail<br >~d<br >: yet to be<br >tom their depths<br >{ detour<br >souls of brave<br >~rn roads.<br >Chapter One<br >A crackling fire， a booming drumbeat， the rattle<br >of a bean-filled gourd -- each sound was amplified<br >by the intensity of the mood. Five women sat，<br >hand in hand， forming a circle with the presence of their<br >bodies. From within them， a deep sound arose， as if from<br >the depths of the Earth， starting slowly and soon escalating<br >to a high pitch. In rhythm they chanted， over and over， the<br >song of the Earth and the sky. They brought the spirit of<br >balance to their lodge.<br > Slowly their feet began to move to a beat that was<br >unfamiliar to their heads. It was a strong and pounding<br >dance， full of the rhythm of their ancestors. They moved<br >in harmony， letting the energy of the moment carry them<br >in motion. Then， ending suddenly and spontaneously， all<br >five slouched to the damp， sage-covered earth. Charged by<br >the song and dance， their bodies trembled and they gasped<br >for breath as the fervor of their desire brought its results:<br >a spiritual release.<br > A hollow， wooden bowl of water was raised to the<br >heavens by one of them and a humble prayer of thanks<br >was delivered as each woman hungrily slurped the wetness<br >as if it were the first or last drink she would ever have.<br >Another hand revealed a fist of myrrh gum， and with the<br >confirmation of its powers， sprinkled it carefully over the<br ><br >