This is not a sex story so if that is what you are looking for you will waste your time reading this.

For everyone else, read on.



When I was 11 years old I was a Cub Scout, more specifically, I was a webelo having completed every badge possible and on the verge of becoming a boy scout. In fact I was about 6 months away from being elevated to boy scout being held back only by the fact that it would be another 6 months before I would be 12, the minimum age for becoming a boy scout at our council. (I understand that in some councils at certain times they have waved this requirement but when I was a webelo, in our council they did not.) So I spent a lot of time teaching the younger scouts and earning boy scout level badges. Technically I couldn't actually be awarded those badges but I was racking them up to the point that I expected to have about 6 of them being awarded to me the day I put on that green uniform.

That summer we had a lot of activities planned for the cub scouts. This included several camping trips, a jamboree and a small number of cub scouts were being sent all the way from our council in New England to Alaska for two weeks as a sort of group of ambassadors to their council there. I didn't quite get why I was picked, I didn't feel I was anything special but I was extremely excited about the adventure. Of course we had to pay our own way, that's the way it was in the Cub Scouts but the council and my pack chipped in a little and between that and what I had saved up from my allowance and what my parents came up with I had enough for the airfare and so away I was with the others and two scout leaders to our adventure in Alaska.

We left Logan Airport and stopped twice on the way changing planes once. In those days we didn't fear terrorists so we could carry our camping gear on board and that included knives, hatchets and other tools along with sleeping bags, tents, cooking utensils etc. Boy have things changed. We touched down at the airport and when I got out the door of the airplane I realized I wasn't in the lower 48 any more. No ramp to the concourse for us. We marched down what seemed like two stories worth of stairs and carried our packs and marched across the tarmac to a little airport terminal with one desk. I think there were maybe 20 people in the whole airport. There was a tiny snack bar and for local transportation we relied on the kindness of our hosts, the local boy scout council which consisted of about 30 boy scouts and cub scouts combined. There were almost that many in each of the dens in our pack. So we were ferried off in three vans and arrived at the tiny camp were some of the boy scouts had already set up camps. There was an office, small pavilion, a bunkhouse for the adults and rows of little campsites for the cub scouts and boy scouts. There was also a stockade fence all the way around which we were told were to keep out the bears and moose. I had never seen either.

We settled down and set up our campsites in a neat row and met at the pavilion where the local boy scouts and cub scouts had a meat and greet and orientation for us before we lined up for chow. Then it was off to bed since we had a long day of travel.

The next afternoon we had visitors. The local Indian tribe had sent several members for a sort of cultural exchange, explaining their culture and beliefs, spiritual and philosophical as well as how they interacted with wildlife. Several of them told oral histories of long dead ancestors and why they performed certain traditions. Most were in clothes one would expect to encounter in any New England town but three were dressed in headdresses and Indian costumes of a ceremonial nature. One of them got up and stood near the camp fire we were all sitting around and told about the significance of the eagle. He told of how it was traditional that a boy near our age would be expected to go off on a sort of quest to find himself. That of course is not exactly how he worded it but it was close. It was also supposed to be a sort of survival test as well. At some point one of them also told us of how a young man would be expected to obtain an eagle feather directly from a living eagle, hunting the eagle was the usual method though obtaining the feather from an eagle's nest was considered a very appropriate way to obtain the feather as well. But not one dropped on the ground.

We of course were not expected to endure the survival test though all of us were enthralled by the idea. Be we were all going to be going on a sort of one hour quest into the wilderness. There was an outer barrier, a sort of loosely constructed fence we were told not to go beyond, it surrounded the camp grounds. There would also be Indian guides wandering around to observe us but they were not supposed to get close enough to interfere. I really had no idea what I was really supposed to do. I was sent off with my canteen, a compass, a map and a small pouch with some light snacks in it. Hardly what was needed for a one hour hike but I took it anyway. Oh and I had a walking stick. So off I went into the woods and I to a point where I could no longer see any sign of the campgrounds or the outer fence they talked about. I didn't notice the fire tower on the hill or the Indian Sachem who was at the top observing everyone with binoculars. I figured I would just go out, commune with nature and walk back and make up some BS about some adventure I didn't have.

I found a clearing of some grass and sat on a rock and had some water and a snack and just sat there taking in the breathtaking beauty of the spot. I was probably there about 15 minutes when I saw in the distance on the other side of the meadow emerging from the trees first a mother then two baby bears. I froze in fear but sat there since I was told black bears usually didn't approach humans. The bears walked closer and closer until settling down to eat something about 30 yards away. I stood very still hoping they didn't notice me. I was down wind of them so I figured I was probably ok. Well one of the cubs being curious wandered his way towards me and I kind of got scared since we were told mother bears were extremely protective. Then it spotted me and perhaps out of curiosity wandered right up close to me, less than five feet away. I got really scared as I thought the mother would notice, become enraged and tear me apart. The mother was easily several times my size and strength. But I just sat still. The bear cub, ever more curious sniffed right up to me and started to nudge my knee and then found my pack and rummaged around smelling the snack I had. I reached in carefully and pulled out the pouch of mostly trail mix and dumped it out on the ground. By then the other cub took notice and wandered over. I decided to retreat really carefully back about 10 yards then the mother came over to where I had been sitting. She seemed to take notice of the snack I had given her cubs, helped herself to what was left and guided her cubs back out into the middle of the meadow as though she didn't notice me there.

Well now I didn't have to make anything up. I had my story to tell so it being close to time to start heading back, I took a sip of water and turned back or was about to when I heard screeching. I looked up and it was an American Bald Eagle. I was told that sometimes people see them in Alaska but due to their scarcity in New England and their legendary status as an icon of American patriotism I just didn't expect to encounter one. Now I really had a story to tell but my story was not yet over. Enthralled I sat back down at that rock I was sitting on before and looked up. The bears had lost interest and were now wandering away to the far end of the meadow and my rapt attention was on the eagle overhead. It circled for a moment and then as though things could not get any more exciting, it landed right on the rock I was sitting on, maybe 6 feet or so away and was eyeballing me. I sat frozen. I was scared of the bear but oddly not of the eagle which is ironic because despite being much smaller, that eagle could do an equal amount of damage if it wanted to. Then of the blue, literally came a second eagle who landed right next to the first eagle. A moment later a third and fourth eagle landed on the ground a few feet in front of me and before long I had maybe 7 or 8 eagles all roosting around me and more flying around overhead. Apparently I was in their garden spot and the seemed to be letting me know I was trespassing. Or at least that was how I interpreted their presence. I never knew if I was right or wrong but one of them, the second to land took a couple of hops towards me and I was a little scared it might bite. It hopped again and a few of them screeched in chorus. It took a couple of more steps until it was close enough that I could have, had I been brave enough, reach out and pet it. I was not brave enough. It looked so fierce and intimidating and I was only 11 and small for my age, and scared yet entranced by this magical thing that was happening.

Then, as quickly as the visit began, one by one the eagles took flight, the last one being the one who approached me. Just as that last eagle flew off, it's feathers brushing across my face, a feather fell loose from one of his wings and started to fall, fluttering down as though a leaf falling from a tree. It had come loose maybe about 8 feet over my head. I reached out and caught it.

What I had not realized was that I was being observed the whole time and that there were two witnesses to both encounters. When I made my way back to camp I found I was actually late by more than an hour and the last boy to return. It seemed like less than half that time. Half the other boys had already told their stories and so I missed them. I sat down and joined them at the pavilion. Since the stories were told in the order of the boys return I was to go last. When it was finally my turn I stood up in the middle of them and being a little shy just said that I saw some nice animals and fed a couple of them and saw some really cool birds. I didn't mention either the bears or the eagles because I figured nobody would believe me. I forgot that I had been holding onto the eagle feather the whole time and it seems I didn't notice that pretty much everyone there noticed me holding it including the Indian guides. One stood up and walked over to me. He asked what I had in my hand. I showed him and he told me to come to the very center of the group and hold the feather up so everyone could see. Then he told me that this was an extremely auspicious occasion and very special and rare. so rare he had never heard of it. I didn't understand what he meant. He said that I had been observed first being greeted by two bear cubs who were normally of an age that they would never just walk up to a human like that. And then I was paid a visit buy a whole community of eagles who spoke to me then left me with this gift, pointing to the feather I was holding up. he said that these days very few boys in his village ever obtained an eagle feather and rarely so young as I and never had he heard of an eagle giving one away. we could tell he was very excited by my feather. He asked if he cold examine it, then he held it up and said something in his Indian language and handed it back to me. Later that night there was a little gathering around the campfire again. More stories were told. The last story was an elaborate story about me told by the Indian who had stood up before. He told the story very nicely and it was as though it was about some other boy I didn't know and then he got to the end and but continued with an account of how the boy was invited back for a visit to the village where he was adopted into the tribe and received the name "little Eagle." Then when he was done he came back to me and told me that a special arrangement had been made that I was going to spend the night at the home of an elder and the next day they were going to hold a naming ceremony and retell the story. He said that since I was shy he would tell the story and then said it was better that way anyways. At the ceremony one of the elders handed me a framed photo of me. I couldn't believe it. It was taken of me with the eagle sitting next to me surrounded by the other eagles. There was also an envelope with about 30 photos of me and the bears and eagles. The one in the fire tower had taken them. It was a nice keepsake. I asked why the other boys were not invited and he explained that it was because they were not chosen though he did not elaborate.

The next day I returned to the camp and told my feller scouts all about what had happened and showed them the photos. I also was presented with a band to put my eagle feather in which I wore proudly for the remainder of the trip and on my way home. When I got back and for the rest of my involvement in scouting I was permitted to wear the head band with eagle feather in it instead of the normally required boy scout uniform hat.

This story would have been enough of a tale to tell if I ended it here. In fact it could be complete and stand alone in several spots and still be pretty cool to remember. It was definitely a high point in my youth and I still have the photos and the head band and eagle feather.

I grew up knowing my ancestors came to New England about three hundred years ago though I was short on details. A couple of years ago I bought an account on an online genealogy web site that I am sure you all have heard of before. I figured I might find a few colonial ancestors to confirm the stories I had been told as a child. I figured I might discover a few black sheep and a skeleton or two. Imagine my astonishment at discovering I am descended from not only native Americans, but the very nation whose village I had visited as a child. It seems that an ancestor of mine had moved to Alaska at some point over a hundred years ago and had married a woman from that very village and after a few years returned to New England with her where she lived out her life. Their second child was my great grandmother. I never knew. Apparently nobody else in my family alive today knew either. I googled the village that I visited and found contact information for an elder and wrote him a letter and it seemed that the two gentlemen who witnessed my wildlife encounter were still alive and remembered me. They were very excited to learn of my family history and in fact they had an oral history of my great great grandmother and wondered whatever happened to her. A few weeks ago I visited them in Alaska and brought family photos and they were very excited to discover what happened. I then learned I had cousins there and so I was invited to stay at my cousins house. I am quite a bit older now so they have renamed me Returned Eagle.