making the flakes dance in the air like the leaves on a windy day in autumn. We would be here one more day, at least until we could bury Makwa and leave. The snowfall did serve one good purpose: it kept the Nippissing off our trail. I went back toward the fire and lay near the dogs and the twins and fell asleep at once.
The next day we spent reinforcing our sleds and checking our snowshoes, making necessary repairs and adjustments. The twins kept the fire going and played outside with the dogs. Agwingos and Esiban were also given the job of making more leather moccasins for the dogs. They had unloaded one toboggan and made good use of a small hill for play. Every time they rode the sled to the bottom of the hill the dogs ran along the side, barking. Standing to watch for a while I couldn’t figure out who was having more fun, the dogs or the twins. When the boys pulled the toboggan back up the hill on the run, the dogs nipped at their heels. This group would definitely sleep soundly tonight. As soon as the sun was high, I backtracked on our trail for a time and Mònz did the same on our intended trail ahead. Nothing was sighted and with the storm almost blown out, we would be heading out the next day. Before we left, we would bury Makwa where the fire was and cover the area so it wouldn’t look disturbed.
That next morning the six of us were able to dig deep enough to bury Makwa. Each of us cut a lock of his hair for our medicine pouch, and we thanked Kitchi Manitou for his past life and offered prayers to help him on his way to the afterlife. We lit a pipe and blew smoke to the four brother winds, Kaibonokka, Kabun (West), Shawano, and Wabun (East). After singing a death song, we left with deep sorrow in our hearts for the loss of such a great hunter, warrior, and friend. However, happiness would soon replace our sadness because we knew that Kitchi Manitou would lead him to the Spirit World.
Without our snowshoes we would have been up over our knees in snow. The pulling of the sleds was heavy work, putting a strain on us all, but we were in good spirits knowing that this food would keep our families nourished for many days. The twins switched back and forth, pulling their sled, and led the column with the small dog. Sometimes though, his weight was too much for the crust of the snow, and he fell in up to his neck. But he struggled on. Wàgosh, Kàg, Mònz, and I switched spots in line every so often; that way one person wasn’t always having the hard pulling.
To hasten our time, that day we ate while we walked. We had been gone nine days and there had been very little food in the village when we had left. It was still bitterly cold, but I was sweating underneath all my layers of fur. The areas not covered by our scarves were at risk from the wind. We rubbed moose fat on the exposed skin to keep the elements from freezing the bare spots. Looking around at my companions, I saw the strain in their faces and the steam billowing from their bodies. Breath came out of our mouths like the puffs of smoke from a smouldering fire. The two dogs were always bringing up the rear because the walking was easier for the travois that they pulled. As I looked back at the dogs I sensed nervousness in the pair, and they were looking back sniffing the air. The wind had changed from the south since the storm. Now it was again at our back from the north. Seeing the nervousness of the dogs, I told everyone to get closer to the thicker forest and take a rest. There was also one other sign that I could see in the sky, and it was a warning of what I knew was coming. Three kàgàgi (ravens) were following us. I instructed the twins to not start a fire, but to collect firewood and prepare in case we had to stay. I also told them to tie up the small dog and to not take the travois off the other two. I decided to backtrack on our trail to see what was bothering the dogs. Asking my fellow three hunters to be vigilant, I left my sled with them and cautiously retraced our trail.
Within fifteen minutes I crested a small hill and was able to look off into the distance. There I could see what alarmed the dogs. There were ten mahingans following the leader who had them on a steady lope on our trail. The ravens were never wrong, and there was the proof in front of me. We would not be able to run from them. Standing and fighting would have to be the order of that day. I bent down and took my snowshoes off. I would need to run as fast as I could to get back to the group. Again we would have to fight to keep this moose. The survival of our families depended on what was going to take place in the next hour or so.
4
Death in the Snow
GASPING FOR AIR WHEN I reached my hunting party, I instructed Wàgosh to start a fire. Agwingos and Esiban were asked to tie the three dogs to the trees about twenty feet behind the fire. I further advised them to take the fur hides off of the dogs’ feet to make them battle-ready and to have their knives prepared to cut the dogs free if they were threatened.
Kàg asked what the danger was.
“Kàg, what does the Raven usually bring with him when there is meat or carrion about?”
“Your namesake: Wolf! How many are there?”
“I counted ten, plus the pack leader,” I said.
I then started shouting out orders and outlined our defence. I told my small group, “We have maybe fifteen minutes before they arrive. They are hungry and want the moose meat. We must be prepared with a defence, because they will circle us looking for a weak spot. We cannot let the dogs loose unless it is absolutely necessary; the size of this pack would tear them to shreds. Mònz, because you cannot shoot a bow, you will have to be behind us guarding the meat and the twins. I will face the trail where the leader and his mate will come. Kàg, you must defend the left and Wàgosh the right. We have to hope and pray our arrows fly true to the mark, because these animals are hungry and determined.”
It would be dark in a short time and the wolves would strike in the dim light. The sun was falling near the treetops, lighting the snow and the approaching beasts in a fiery red hue. They started to howl, sending a chill through my body. With this as a signal they broke into a run. Our dogs then started barking. Hearing this, the attackers immediately stopped and began snarling. The male and female pair jumped to the front and snapped in our direction. They were still a good distance away, but I loosed an arrow that flew toward the female. She moved at the last second and the arrow struck a young wolf in the chest with a resounding thump. The pack, sensing danger, pulled back as the younger wolf howled in pain.
The pack now sat as if waiting for instructions. Then they all started running in different directions. Wàgosh let out a warning and Kàg turned just in time to see two large wolves running toward him. He had no time to string his bow, so he grabbed his lance from the snow. At that instance another lance flew through the air and embedded itself in the lead wolf’s neck. Without a sound the animal dropped. The ever-wary Mònz had struck again. Kàg dropped to one knee as the other wolf sprung toward him. His lance caught the attacker full in the chest. Kàg was covered with the animal’s blood as both tumbled into the snow.
Then, upon hearing our dogs snarling and Esiban screaming, I looked around and saw Agwingos on the back of a large wolf that had his brother pinned face down in the snow. Agwingos was stabbing the wolf while Mònz was running to the aid of the boys. On the way past the dogs he cut off their leather ties with a slash of his spear blade. The dogs beat Mònz to the struggling twins and the wolf. First in battle was the small dog, and he lunged at the face of the wolf. The twins were screaming. The wolf was snarling and our dogs were barking. It sounded like a world gone mad. In a matter of seconds the small battle was over. By the time Mònz reached the melee our dogs and Agwingos’s knife had finished the intruder.
I turned my eyes back to the remainder of the pack. The female and male leaders of the group had stopped short of our circle. With four of the pack dead and dying, they realized that we were too formidable a prey to defeat. Any more losses to their family and they would have difficulty surviving and defending their territory against other wolf packs. With one last wail at us, they departed the way they had come.
With the retreat of the wolves, we gathered ourselves. Esiban suffered no wounds. This could be attributed to the quick reaction of his brother, the amount of clothes
