Ventana is the Spanish word for “window,” a reference to the beautiful rock arch visible from far, far away, but never photographed for any magazine or journal. The Tohono O'odham have another name for the ancient cave, hidden in the heart of the reservation, holding a prehistoric village inside the heart of the mountain. Speaking barely above a whisper, the O'odham elders call the place “the house of whirlwinds.”

Archaeologists hired the locals to work the dig, including a pair of O'odham elders, who asked permission of the gods in another nearby cave, known as “the house of lightning.” The elders performed ancient prayer songs, seeking permission from the Ventana ghosts to work on behalf of the archaeologists as grave robbers.

The first day of the dig, a small whirlwind started in the back of the cave.

The dust devil swirled, twirled, and danced, traversing the entire length of the rock overhang, careening between boulders and cave paintings. It came to a cavern corner, spiraling, spiraling in the same place until it vanished in a haze of fine dust and revealed a bare spot on the ground, exposing the toe of an ancient shamus, a long dead Native American wizard wearing seashell earrings, and holding a heron-bone rattle.

Four O'odham elders gather on a full moon night, entering the Cave of Lightning, trying to revise an ancient ceremony. The old men drum and chant, waving the magic wands called lightning sticks. They invoke the magic of these ancient spirits who reside in the ancient village, these caves, this mountain, deep in the earth.

The archaeologists dig and dig at Ventana Cave, discovering unexpected treasures of pottery and obsidian spear-points, corn and camel bones, layers and layers of history going back thousands of years. Sometimes the scientists wonder what kind of dreams these peoples held close to their hearts, whispering under their breaths only when the warmest of sunbeams climb all the way to heaven.

The elders wave their lightning sticks in the air, claps of thunder booming in the back of the cave. They finish their ceremony and sigh, echoes dying in silence. With no young people present at the ceremony to learn and keep the memories alive, this knowledge will fade. The magic will not disappear, but the power of the earth, the spirit of the cave, will bury itself deep in the mountain, appearing unexpectedly, unbidden, loose.

The archaeologists take notes, make maps and graphs, and excavate a treasure-trove of artifacts. Still, they know it is nothing more than a glorified trash-pile until they have captured the secret of at least one soul. They appeal to the tribe for permission to explore the Cave of Lightning but are denied.

As the elders leave the Cave of Lightning they are frightened by a feline growl, the coughing and snarls of a mountain lion hiding on the rocky slopes. The elders exit and the mountain lion enters, diseased and frightened, curling up and dying.

Julian Hayden digs in the Ventana dirt, when a small whirlwind begins just beyond his fingertips, the air swirling and twirling. The dust devil grows as it spirals, becoming as large as his thumb, his fist, his head, stretching to its full height, and beyond—leaping from the cave mouth and growing some more, ripping up the countyside as it climbs a half mile high, throwing cactus and boulders into the air.

The tornado tears into the scientists' camp, tossing tents, sleeping bags, and kitchen equipment every which way. The archaeologists retreat back to the sanctuary of the university, writing reports and studied histories.

In the Castle Mountains the Cave of Lightning still waits, lost and undisturbed, a mountain lion skeleton within it half buried in bat guano, surrounded by eagle feathers and thunder sticks. If you want, you can find this lost treasure and try your hand at reviving this forgotten ceremony. Who knows what treasures and memories wait to be discovered?

But beware of the ancient magic, because perhaps stirring the air in the Cave of Lightning might put flesh back on those mountain lions' bones and a prospective grave robber might learn how quickly the hunter can become the hunted. An initiate might learn how strong the ancient magic lives.

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