"I am now the Old Shaman, but once upon a time, I was but a young man. Close your eyes, dear children, and picture me in my youth," spoke the Old Shaman. The trio of youngsters sitting cross-legged before him giggled at the thought of the Old Shaman ever being young because in their eyes, he's always been old.

"Long before any of you three were born, long before the Prolonged Cold and many moons ago, a peculiar-looking man of a dark complexion similar to us but not like us descended violently to the ground from the heavens on a noisy silver bird. Traditionally, our people have never liked outsiders and the people felt no different about this intruder. Outsiders bring sickness to curse us, so the people of the village went to kill him before he could spread his sickness upon us.

He was injured, but because he was stalwart and mighty, he was able to fend off the attacks. In addition, he possessed a powerful sorcery he called 'technology.' I remember this word because the dark man, Jabulani, eventually became my father's friend and he was also my friend as well," recounted the Old Shaman. Fortunately, he didn’t bring the sickness with him.

As he looked upon the boundless sea, he expounded, almost as though he was gazing into the distant past itself while the gentle ocean breeze rustled the palm trees on the shore. "It took some time for the dark-skinned man to learn our tongue, but he did in time. He informed us that all the tribes were at war with one another and that they wielded enchanted spears capable of eliminating entire villages. These magical weapons were employed in each village of the Distant Tribes. As the moons waned, the warmth did not return, and the cold persevered for many seasons, a biting cold we were not accustomed to. Those were difficult times, and it appeared that we were destined to pay the price for the follies of the distant clans of men. These men were so foolish that they decimated their homelands out of greed, hatred and foolishness."

"What do you mean?" inquired Wind, the eldest among the three. His eyes shone brightly, radiating intellectual curiosity. “I don’t understand.”

The Old Shaman ceased speaking for a moment, looking pensive. "Imagine that a man seized all the coconuts on this island to keep for himself and refused to share them with anyone."

All the boys protested, horrified at such a notion. It was Wind, however, who vocalized his criticism. "Why would he do that? Then no one else could possess any, and several, if not many coconuts would foul before he could finish them!"

The Old Shaman grinned tenderly at Wind. "Indeed, Wind. That is the illness that destroyed all the clans of the Distant Tribes across the waters. Our kindred had never known much of those distant folks, nor had we any desire to, but we knew they existed somewhere out there. What we didn't know was how many there were; numbers beyond counting… At least there used to be, but they might possibly be all gone."

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The trio of boys sit contemplating how something could go from numbers beyond counting to none, it is beyond their frame of reference. Wind was thinking about the strange man and probed further. "Would you tell me more about the mighty, dark-skinned man?"

The Old Shaman sighed, lost in memories of his comrade from many seasons ago. After a moment, he began again." Jabulani lived among us for many seasons and assimilated into our clan. He learned our tongues and taught me some of his words. I can still recall some of them... That is how he shared the tale of the demise of the Distant Tribes. By the time he learned our words, the skies were silent with no more noisy silver birds, nor giant rafts upon the waters."

"One day, he crafted a vessel, a collection of planks lashed together to float on the waters. He employed a powerful magic that he called a sexton, to voyage far into the Deep Blue."

The boys acknowledged the sorcery, for it was the only way to understand and make sense of the ability to depart from their homes and venture into the boundless blue. The people do not leave the island for any reason, never beyond the shallow waters of the shores. It is known that only danger and death await those who venture far.

The Old Shaman continued, "He said he had to locate his tribe, assuming there were any survivors of their warring. We tried to convince him to stay but he was adamant about pursuing this course of action. Once he finished his watercraft, we said our goodbyes and he set off into the Deep Blue toward the distant land where the sun rises. I watched him depart from this very location for hours."

The youngest boy, Sea Hawk, expressed worry for the dark man. "What... What was his ultimate fate, Old Shaman?"

"I do not know, and I never saw him again, but I would prefer to envision him finding his kin on some far shore, finding a wife, having many children and grandchildren, and dying contented, embraced by his family... Perhaps he is still alive, somewhere beyond the Deep Blue… In my younger days I often considered going out there to look for him, but it was the foolishness of my youth, I could never leave our home and our people." The Old Shaman then grew silent, lulled into a slumber by the warmth of the peaceful beach and the whispering palm trees in the gentle breeze.

The younger two of the boys started to question Old Shaman but Wind stopped them, told them to be silent, leave him to his rest and told them to do their chores before dark. The boys protested but ultimately acquiesced. Wind looked back at the revered elder again as they walked away, wondering what secrets he knows of and what other untold stories he possesses. He finally realizes and understands that Old Shaman is so important to the people, without him they have no identity, no past, and no purpose.