The Broken Contract, Part 2

The Broken Contract
Christopher Bogart

3.

The trees continued to dance in the fields day after day; and, as they did, their bright green foliage began to turn in color. Green was replaced by bright red, orange and yellow as the wind grew cooler and crisper. And as they danced, their multi-colored foliage drifted from their swaying limbs, and floated to the ground below as they shed their leaves in preparation for the winter frost.

Soon, the lakes froze over and the streams became empty as the fish sought deeper, more temperate climates deep underneath the icy surface. The four-legged creatures burrowed into the earth for the long winter, venturing out only occasionally to hunt for food. And man began to freeze and starve.

Driven by desperation, they held a meeting of their own to discuss the crisis. “What can we do?” one asked. “We have kept to the contract, but now there are no more fish for us to catch and we cannot hunt the animals for we have nothing to kill them with.” As if to illustrate their dilemma, a large deer appeared outside the cave in which they met, huddled around the fire to keep warm.

“Look!” said another. “Brother Deer is willing to keep the contract, yet we cannot kill him. His meat would give us food, and his hide clothing and shelter.”

“Maybe if we hit him with a rock, we could stun him.”

“No! The contract stated that we only kill quickly and mercifully. And we have no way to kill him mercifully.”

“I have a way!” said a determined young man who had not eaten in three days. And with that, he rushed out and past the curious deer until he found a tree sapling that was dozing near the mouth of the cave. He lifted the unsuspecting sapling up, and broke off his legs and the few small limbs it had. And grabbing it by its middle, he rubbed it against a nearby rock until it was sharpened. Then, pulling his bow from around his bare shoulder, he shot the sapling directly at the deer. The sharpened sapling entered the deer and bore straight to its heart, killing it instantly.

“You have broken the contract!” the first man said in alarm.

“We have food for our meal!” the young man replied bitterly, and he skinned the deer for cooking.

“Maybe no one will find out” said the second man, as he hurried over to help the young man dress the meat and start the fire.

Later, when the mother tree went looking for the sapling, she found instead its torn limbs and legs. And the remains of a cooking fire. It was not long before all the trees had heard about this violation, and the trees congregated in anger.

“The men have violated the contract!” the trees howled in rage. “They have violated the contract!”

One of the trees, the one that had spoken at the meeting that the Great Spirit had called, tried to calm the others. “Brother Trees,” he said, “it is true that man has broken the contract.” The trees waved their bare branches in furious assent. “But what can we do?”

“The contract is broken!” said one of the older saplings. “We are no longer bound by it!” All of the other trees nodded their agreement. “Therefore, let us leave this place and seek another. One that is free of men.”

“My young brother,” said the first tree, “if we do that, we will upset the balance of nature and man will surely die.”

“Then let him!” responded the older sapling. “For if we stay here, we will be subject to his continued treachery, and we will surely die!” Again the trees nodded their agreement.

So, as the men slept off their first real meal in a long time, covered in the warmth of the deer skin, the trees departed. And when the men awoke the next morning, they looked out from the mouth of the cave at a landscape devoid of much of the life that had once inhabited it. For, when the trees left, so did all of the creatures that had depended on them for life. The birds of the air, squirrels and chipmunks, all were gone. All that was left was a vast expanse of empty land.

As the winter months passed, the men stripped the land of berries and all other small edibles that were the food supply for the rest of the creatures. And soon, they too departed, leaving man alone to die. And many did die. Each day, fewer and fewer men found the strength to rise from the cold sleep the night before. Until one day, the Great Spirit looked down upon the land to see how the contract was working, only to find that the land had become a barren wasteland. The Great Spirit went to the mouth of the cave that the men had inhabited. There He found the few that had been strong enough to survive. When He asked them what had happened, there was shame in their voices as they explained the killing of the deer. They had tried to follow the contract, they told Him. They had tried. But they had failed.

He told them to sleep to conserve their energy. And, leaving the mouth of the cave, He went to find the trees. He did not have to travel far, for the trees and the animals had traveled slowly, knowing that man dare not follow for they were too weak from hunger. And the Great Spirit held a second meeting of his creations, save man.

“Why have you left man to die?” the Great Spirit asked them.

“They broke the contract!” the trees replied, heatedly.

“Yes.” The Great Spirit said, sadly. “They have broken the contract.” And then He paused. “But so have you.”

“How?” asked the astonished trees.

The Great Spirit looked around at each of them. “Have I not given you everything you have needed to survive?” He asked them.

“Yes.” They nodded warily.

“But,” the Great Spirit continued, “I did not provide well enough for man. That is why I asked you to help him.”

“We did!” said many of the other creatures, nodding at each other in approval.

“No!” said the Great Spirit. And he looked at the trees. “You did not.”

“We abided by the contract!” the trees said defensively and in unison.

And the Great Spirit continued to stare at them. “The contract was flawed.” He said, calmly.

“Flawed?” the eagle asked, as curiosity replaced surprise in his wizened eyes.

“Yes.” Said the Great Spirit, never taking his eyes from the trees. “Everyone gave in equal measure. Except you.” The Great Spirit’s eyes were calm and loving, but firm. “You were generous in giving man your dead limbs in order to burn for cooking. But your dead wood is not good enough for their other needs, as it crumbles when it is dry.” And the Great Spirit looked around at his creations that he had assembled. “Each of these,” He spread his arms around, “has given his life to the other for survival.” And then He looked back at the trees. “Of what measure is a gift of something already discarded?” And the Great Spirit looked at all of his assembled creations. “I have given you life.” He said. “Not to keep. But to share. For all life comes from me and I have shared it with you.” He again looked at the trees. “Give them life. Your life.”

“But what of our survival?” one of the trees asked.
“Brother Tree,” the eagle said, turning to him, “each of us takes the life of another only in the common necessity to survive. None of us takes that life for power or greed. That, I believe, is the essence of our contract.” And, as the eagle spoke these words, the Great Spirit nodded in agreement.

The following morning, all of the creatures returned to the land. And there was a great meeting near the mouth of the cave. The Great Spirit called the trees and man together to seal the contract, and for the other creatures to witness the agreement. But after the terms of the contract were explained to man, man looked deeply disturbed. “Brother Man”, inquired the deer, “what is the source of your anguish?” One of the men turned to the trees.

“When you left us, all of the animals left with you.” The trees rustled slightly with guilt. “Any many of us died. How can we believe that you will not do the same thing again?” And the man turned to the Great Spirit. “Father,” he said in the voice of a needy son, “The problem with the contract is that they do not need us to survive. But we need them.” And all of the animals murmured to each other in sympathy with man’s plight.

The trees turned to each other. There was a gentle rustle of branches in the cool night breeze as the trees entered into a deep discussion of the problem that man had presented. The tree that had acted as spokesman at the previous meetings, stood silently as he listened to each of his brother trees speak in turn. One suggestion after another was raised, only to be rejected by the others. Finally all of the trees turned toward the assembly of the Great Spirit’s creations. The tree spokesman called for attention.

“We cannot come to a common agreement on the dilemma that man has presented.” There was murmuring among the other creations. “However,” he said, “I believe that I have a solution.” His fellow trees turned their limbs to him in surprise. “Man is looking for a sign of trust from us that he can believe. Is that not right?” The assembled men nodded to themselves. “Well,” said the tree gravely, “I believe that I have found one.” All listened to the tree intently. “Great Father Spirit,” the tree spokesman began grandly, spreading his limbs out around him, “you have given many gifts to your creations. You have given flight to the winged creatures, the ability to swim to the underwater creatures, and swiftness of foot to the deer and the mountain lion, strength to the bear and the buffalo. You have given each of your creations a gift that has given it joy; but, most of all, has given it the ability to survive.” The tree paused to see that all were listening. But that was not necessary, for all were listening in suspense to hear his extraordinary offer. “However, the one gift that is most valued and enjoyed by the trees, is not really necessary for our survival. The ability to walk. The ability to dance.” The trees drew closer, for they could not believe what they were hearing. “If we surrender that ability, surrender it for all time, than man will have to trust us.”

The tree spokesman’s words were met with a tumultuous roar. “No!” cried all the trees in unison. “How could you even suggest that!” cried one.

“Hear me, brother trees!” cried the tree spokesman. And, as he raised his limbs, the other trees quieted down to listen to his words. “Great Father Spirit,” the tree spokesman said, “You have not told us of the one gift that you have given to man.” And, with this, all the creatures including man, looked around at the tree spokesman. “Why?” the tree spokesman asked, looking directly into the wisdom in the eyes of the Great Spirit.

“I did not tell you,” the Great Spirit replied calmly, “because man is still unaware that he has it.” What is it, all of the creatures asked in verbal cacophony?

“Our Great Father Spirit has given man intelligence.” The tree spokesman responded.

“How did you know?” Eagle asked the tree.

“Because I have been watching man,” the tree spokesman responded. “When he found himself unable to use our dead branches to kill prey, he quickly learned how to fashion a weapon that would.” Then the tree paused and looked at the Great Spirit.

“He is not sure how to use this gift yet,” said the Great Spirit.

“But he soon will,” responded the tree.

“Yes, he soon will,” admitted the Great Spirit. “And that is all the more reason why you all must enter into a contract with each other so that you will forever live in harmony, using each of your gifts to help the other. With this harmony, you will fashion a hoop of life that will encompass and protect you all. Each depending on the other. It is this hoop that is the essence of the contract.” Then the Great Spirit bowed his head with the weight of his thoughts. “Without it,” the Great Spirit said somberly, “there will be chaos.”

But how can we be sure that man will honor the contract?” the tree asked. “As he learns how to use his intelligence, man will become more and more clever. In time, all of the defenses that you have given all of us will be nothing compared to the intelligence that you gave to man. What if he uses this intelligence to do harm rather than good?”

I have created all of you to be interdependent. If he harms you, he will be harming himself,” the Great Spirit said gravely.

“We will honor this contract,” the man pleaded. “We have to. For without it, we will die.”

The tree turned to all assembled and, waving his limbs around to include all, he spoke directly to man. “We have behaved poorly. We have taken advantage of the gifts given to us for our enjoyment and survival and used them to hurt you. We will not do that again. And, as a sign of our pledge,” the tree continued, “we will sink our legs into the ground. For, being no longer able to roam as we please, we will find food and moisture form the earth.”

Saying this, the tree spokesman looked around at his fellow trees. There was a great silence as the trees looked at each other with resignation and understanding, for they knew that to agree to this would be the supreme sacrifice for them. And they understood the full impact of their decision. In their turn, each nodded silently to the tree spokesman. The breach had been healed and the contract made firm.



4.

Many years passed since the last council with the Great Spirit. The trees had done as they had promised. They had gathered into groups according to their common interests and sunk their legs into the moist soil of spring, forming small woodlands as well as thick mighty forests. The animals congregated around these groupings of trees for their needs as well as for the trees’ protection. It didn’t take long before no one could remember when they had last seen a tree dance. And, in time, trees became a predictable part of the landscape. With the exception of the rocks and stones that held all history within them, the dance of the trees was forgotten.

But not to the trees. For, although they could not move, they continued to wave their branches in the wind to melodies long forgotten. Melodies only they heard. And with each new sapling that grew from seed, the story passed down their narrow corridor of time as they repeated it again and again. And remembered.

The trees remembered. But man did not. As the small colony of men grew, they expanded across the land masses that made up the earth. They formed new colonies as they settled into new lands. Some of these colonies respected the contract made long ago. These colonies existed with the harmony of nature as the Great Spirit had ordained. There were others, however, that did not. And there developed among these men a new philosophy. One that sprung from the one gift that the Great Spirit had given man. The one gift the trees had feared most. The gift of intelligence.

For a new philosophy had developed among some of the colonies of man. And man began to use his intelligence not for survival as it had been meant to be used. But for dominance. Axes wielded by man cut down tree after tree as his colonies expanded across the vast reaches of the earth. Soon the sound of the axe was replaced by a deafening sound and an oily smell. And the trees, having long ago surrendered their ability to flee, surrendered again as whole forests fell before the sharp teeth of the buzz saw. Whole forests fell and the landscape became flat and barren as the animals that lived for centuries in the shade of these trees also departed. The contract that had been made for the benefit of man was again broken by man. But this time, the trees and the wildlife that resided among them could not call man to a meeting with the Great Spirit. For man had forgotten how to listen. So he did not hear their call.

The contract had been broken. And with it, the balance that the Great Spirit had intended, the hoop of life, had also been broken. It is this balance that must be returned to the earth. For if it is not, all life will die. If you do not believe it, listen to the trees as they moan in the wind for their lost freedom. Look at the trees, as they stretch their limbs to the sky, begging the Great Spirit to reestablish the hoop of life. Pleading with their Father Creator to force man to honor the contract.