SMOKE SIGNALS

I’m sure I’ll catch some flak for this piece, but my Choctaw blood allows me to write it without prejudice. The reason I say that is because some will disagree with my analogy regarding smoke signals, and the extent to which they were used. I’ll undoubtedly pop some bubbles with my explanation.

I’ve watched many western movies where American Indians sent out smoke signals for different reasons. The other evening, I viewed one where smoke seemingly went straight up in near perfect cloudlike balls. The white smoke was coming from a high flattop mesa, reminding me of Cupcake Mountain on the California side of Lake Havasu. I’m not saying that Cupcake Mountain is a mesa, only that it’s somewhat flat.

An Indian interpreter assigned to a contingent of US Calvary in this film, deciphered the smoke as saying troops were coming from Fort Somethinganother, and for all surrounding tribes to join in and attack them. The fort’s real name I do not recall because this bogus scene had me immediately chuckling out loud. I quickly got up and grabbed my notebook so I could start writing. For me, that’s how much of my composition starts.

I know that Native Americans used smoke as a form of communication, yet each rising ball did not equate to letters, words, or language as some think. In this movie, evidently, the smoke spelled out exact sentences, or at least that’s how it came across to me. This is where some will disagree.

I researched smoke signals finding that they weren’t that elaborate as Hollywood portrays. An Indigenous Indian might light a fire high on a hill or mountain—then use wet grass to make it smolder. Using a blanket to cover and then uncover, the smoke alone was enough to say that imminent danger was coming.

With wind always present in high places, it would’ve been next to impossible for things to rise in choreographed balls like those in the movie. I’m sure some will argue this point as well, but pure logic shows otherwise. I’ve tried to do the same and failed.

As a teenager, on a camping trip in Alaska, my brother and I attempted to send smoke signals from our campfire in Bird Creek Campground. Trying to duplicate what we’d seen in westerns, we badly singed Mom’s green Army blanket, deeming it worthless. She never found out because we burned the remaining evidence. The released smoke hovered in low-lying-trees making it appear as if the surrounding forest was on fire. We quickly terminated our experiment before a park ranger came along.

Miscommunication must’ve been persistent during the Cowboy & Indian era, because all it would’ve taken to send a false message was for lightning to strike some brush high up on a hill. Gazing towards the peak with eyes only, a warrior would issue a loud warning to others that invaders were on the way. After seeing the smoke increase in size, he’d then have to determine if the smoke signal was human made before calling out, “False alarm!” Logic also tells me that American Indians never spoke those exact words.

It’s highly likely some Indigenous people had their smoke signal fires get out of control and burn additional acreage by accident. I’m a pro at this. As a six-year-old boy, I accidentally started a fire in Selma, Alabama, that ended up burning several acres of grassland. It’s not hard to do with a slight breeze fanning the flames.

With numerous smoke signals ending up being false alarms back in the day of 1880s America, I suppose even if danger wasn’t coming in the form of soldiers, it still told troops and Indians alike to pack up and quickly head for safe ground.

I unintentionally created a smoke signal in the garage a few years back. Hooking up a volt meter on my old truck, I didn’t pay much attention to the poorly crimped wire until seeing smoke coming from under the dash. It wasn’t going up in balls, but more more like rising fog from a swamp. Quickly disconnecting the positive battery cable, enough toxic smoke lingered so that I could read a portion of the message, “Hey stupid…”

With the garage door quickly opened, it dissipated before anyone else came along and read the same. Even so, a scorchy plastic odor left behind for hours eventually told my wife that something wasn’t kosher. I tend to believe, even though it can’t be seen, ‘smell’ can relay a message to a person much the same or perhaps even better than smoke signals. If skunks or polecats could talk—I’m sure they’d agree!