While I was watching all this take place, coming from the direction of the figures was the flapping wing noise that I had heard earlier. There were no birds anywhere and no wind blowing either! But I could hear the noise of what sounded to me like a tremendous flock of birds’ wings flapping! These mysterious figures stood up, bowed down, turned around, and slowly moved away from each other. Several times they got down on all fours, and for many minutes, turned in complete circles. It seemed like they were dancing. Something inside told me that these “things” were not normal, but in fact “spirits.” I was scared.
I tried my best to keep very still, but I was shaking all over. After a few minutes, the spirits changed their steps and began to move from side to side. I know this might sound crazy, but the figures changed from animal to human to animal and back again. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing! Suddenly, they did something that scared me even more: they stood upright on their feet, and leaped towards each other. I’m telling you, this really surprised me. I didn’t expect them to do this, or to be so fast. I felt that if I moved, even a finger, they would discover me. Who knows what they would have done to me. Because they were moving all around the riverbed so much, I was afraid they would eventually spot me.
I decided to keep lying flat on my stomach, hoping to camouflage, to blend into the background as much as possible. If they spotted me, I was ready to run for it. I kept quiet and watched them repeat their strange dance over and over again. A few times one of them would jump about ten feet into the air. It was terrifying and, at the same time, fascinating to watch.
I stayed hidden behind the branch for a few more minutes, until I felt a bug sting my leg. I felt it crawl into my pant leg and sting me on the ankle. It must have been a wasp because it hurt like heck! I didn’t want to make a sudden move, but knew I needed to get rid of it. I slowly sat up and stretched my arm over to scratch my leg. Through it all, I didn’t take my focus off the spirits. Luckily, they didn’t notice me. But when I turned my head, I hit it against a branch that was a few inches above me. The sound of the moving branch gave me away! I saw the spirits freeze and immediately they turned their heads in my direction! I saw them crouch down and instantly disappear into thin air! That was all I needed. I stood up and ran for my life, breaking branches as I ran through the bushes. Several times I lost my balance and fell to the ground. Each time I got up and ran back down the river retracing my steps, stumbling many more times before arriving at the road, which led back home. It’s difficult for me to describe how scared I was. I was shaking all over and a bit bloodied.
When I got home, my father saw me covered in sweat and dirt and asked me where I had been. I excitedly told him the story of what I had seen. He looked at me with a strange gaze that I had never seen before and shook his head saying, “Those were not things you should have been watching. You should not have been sneaking up on those spirits. They need to be left alone when they dance. You must not ever sneak up on spirits again.” He also told me: “The spirits come down from the mountains from time to time.” They have been doing this since Apaches first came to this area. The spirits live in the mountains and canyons. They follow the water because there is power in water. The river is like a big vein and water is the blood of life for spiritual beings. You need to go back there to where you saw the spirits, and leave them an offering.” I told my father that I would do as he said, but as of this day, I have not gone back to that spot.
I don’t want to see any more spirits. Knowing that the spirits did not wish to cause me any harm has changed my view of spiritual things, but I’m still not wanting to meet any more of them. I was raised with the stories of spirits that lived in the nearby mountains around our reservation, and was told of witches and ghosts that took many animal forms. Years ago it took my own personal experience with the dark, dancing spirits to prove to me that these were not just stories. I know these spirits are real because I have seen them.”
Hualapai
In times past, beginning around 600, the Hualapai were a tribe who were primarily hunter-gatherers. But where water was available, the Hualapai cultivated gardens of corn, squash and beans. Today there are just fewer than 2,000 Hualapai who live at the tribal headquarters in Peach Springs, Arizona, and 50 miles east of Kingman on Historic Route 66. The total reservation encompasses 108 miles of the Colorado River and a segment of the Grand Canyon. The topography of the reservation varies from rolling grassland and shear, rugged canyons to pine forest. Elevations range from 1,500 feet at the Colorado River’s banks to over 7,300 feet at Aubrey Cliffs.
The Hualapai nation has managed to maintain their culture, language and well-deserved pride. The future looks positive for the Hualapai, especially since they currently have one of the highest numbers of students who are enrolled in college of any reservation in the state.
Robert Red Sky’s (Hualapai) Story
This following story is an eye opening one that I assure you will leave you with much food for thought. Anyone who has ever gone hunting in the wilderness might have at least one or more stories of encountering “something” strange or unexplainable. The following story given to me by Robert might just linger in your thoughts for a long time to come. I’ve visited with Robert twice since our initial meeting. He’s introduced me to other areas of his reservation where many unexplained paranormal “power spots” exists. Because of my own strong spiritual beliefs, I have never visited these areas without him. At this point I caution anyone who might go exploring unto reservation lands for the purpose of simply “experiencing” ghosts. You have been warned.
— Antonio
“One winter in the month of January, when I was seventeen, my brother and father, along with my father’s two good buddies, went on a deer-hunting trip in the Hualapai valley. This was a hunting trip that none of us will ever forget. Even now a strange feeling comes over me when I think back to what we all witnessed years ago, on what started out to be just an ordinary outing. That winter day I experienced an example of the power of spirits that comes forth from the land the Hualapais call home.
Two weeks before, my father had spoken to three Indian fellas in town. These guys mentioned to him about the big deer bucks they had seen browsing and running within a deep canyon. To offer further proof, they asked my father to walk with them out to the road where their pick-up truck was parked. The men proudly pulled off a large plastic tarp, which was covering the bucks they had killed. He told me those guys had some of the most beautiful bucks he had ever seen. He asked the three guys for detailed directions regarding the location of their successful hunting. As they gave him directions, he wrote down every road, turn and curve. In our Indian way, we don’t hold back information about such hunting areas. It’s traditionally right that we share such information among our people, and it’s something that goes back a long way with the Hualapai.
My father arrived home and told my brother and I about the deer. Soon we had planned a hunting trip. My father was convinced he too could shoot a deer or two just like those guys in town had. He got on the phone and invited two good friends of his. The date was set.
We