The Eighth Tribe, 1975 (2. évfolyam, 1-12. szám)
1975-05-01 / 5. szám
I Page Two ________________________THE EIGHTH TRIBE_________________________________MAY, 1975 THE REUNION WITH THE SZEKELYS On the high mountain-ridges of Erdély (Transylvania), Szekely sentries stood guard for many centuries, watching for approaching enemies and hoping that one day, the ancient prophecies would come true and CSABA would return from the East with the rest of the nation. Sons inherited sentry-posts from their fathers, together with the hope, and when their time came, they handed the posts over to their sons and grandsons. Then one foggy morning, the guard on Qrko suddenly caught sight of a long column of riders emerging from the forest below, slowly ascending the road toward the pass. The riders wore pointed fur caps, just as the guard did. Their flag displayed the TURUL bird, the sacred eagle of the Huns. The guard ran to the SOUND-TREE, an old hollow tree that was used to send messages over the Szekely valleys. He began to hammer on it with the butt; of his heajvy axe. Bong . . . Bong . . . Bong . . ., the sound of his axe rose over the silent forests, from ridge to ridge, across the dreamy valleys. In their small, hidden villages men and women stopped whateve they were doing and listened. Usually, these sounds coming from the ridges meant danger, enemy invasion, and people down in the valleys were ready to pack their bundles, herd their animals together and flee into the woods. This time, however, the messages they read from the sounds meant something different. It meant joy and happiness, it meant that the long-awaited arrival of the distant brethren, the unexpected news of Csaba’s return had finally come. “Leader Csaba has returned!” “Here they are! The wanderers of old have returned home!” “Sing joyful songs, all ye Szekelys! Give thanks to UR, our God, for the hardships are over, the dangers are gone! The prophecies have been fulfilled!” These were the messages the JOGURS (priests) of the tiny villages below the mountains read from the sounds that day, everywhere in Erdély. Farther toward the West, in the rolling hillcountry, the new inhabitants became frightened. They were Bulgarians of MEN-MAROT’S tribe. Converted to Christianity, and sobered into fear by their bearded priests, they were afraid of their “pagan” neighbors. However, understanding the happy message of distant signal fires, the elders began to doubt the word of their priests. They remembered vaguely of old legends, very similar to those of the Szekelys. To defend their settlements from the new invaders, the Bulgarian warriors came together on the bank of the Szamos River. Here they waited. Soon riders appeared, coming slowly out of the forest by tens, by hundreds, even by thousands. The Bulgarians stared at the oncomers. Could it be a mirage? Was it not themselves they saw approaching? From the opposite banks of the little river, similar faces stared at one another. Similar kinds of leather suits, fur jackets, also feathered caps were worn on both sides. Even the slightly bent sabres, and the battle axes were identical. “Deus, Deus, Deus!” cried the Bulgarian settlers on the Western bank of the Szamos. “Isten, Isten, Isten!” echoed the reply from the other bank. The older settlers remembered that not so very long ago, they too, had worshipped a God called Isten. Men Marót, the chief of the Bulgarians, came forward on his horse, to the edge of the water. From the other side, two horsemen approached, a young and an old. They drove their horses into the shallow water, and so did the chief of the Bulgarians. They met in midstream. “My name is Arpadson Jutas”, the younger man spoke first. “I am the Commander of the Eastern wing of the Magyar army. I come with peace.” “I am the RABONBAN of the Szekelys”, said the old man beside him. “Our nation is filled with joy because our brethren from the East have at last arrived. We joined with them, and pledged our loyalty to Arpad and his people.” “I am Men Marót, chieftain of the Bulgarian tribe which moved away from the rest of our nation and settled part of this beautiful land. We were brethren of the Huns, and we are, therefore, brethren with the Magyars, too. If you come with peace, we THE EIGHTH TRIBE Editor .................................................................. Sándor E. Chomos Contributing Editor ............................................. Albert Wass Published and printed monthly by The Bethlen Press, Inc. P.O. Box 637, Ligonier, Pa. 15658, U.S-A. Second Class Postage paid at Ligonier, Pa. 15658, U.S.A. Subscription: Í8.00 yearly. Authorized representative in Cleveland, Ohio is: Sándor Szabadkai. 1794 W. 30 Street, Cleveland, Ohio 44113.
