had a couple of pups somewhere close.
The wolves wasted no time. They were hungry and the female had probably whelped seven or eight weeks previously so she was eating for more than one. They charged down the small hill at the wolverines.
Two full-grown wolves against two adult and two yearling kit wolverines was not very good odds, but hunger ruled. The wolverines, although caught off-guard, met their adversaries head on. The female wolverine immediately went for the throat of the female wolf. The wolverine, being so low to the ground, hung onto the wolf, and they tumbled and rolled down the rock embankment into the water. The wolverine then made quick work of the larger beast by holding onto her throat, weighing her down and drowning her.
The male wolf was close to death also. The female’s mate had him by the nose and the two smaller wolverines were on the wolf’s hind legs as they had been with the old bull. They were tearing him to pieces from the hindquarters and their father was tearing the wolf’s face to bits. Soon he was dead. The wolverines had killed these two intruders in a matter of minutes with ferocity unparalleled in the wilderness.
“Wàgosh, do you still want to try to take some moose meat from them?” I asked.
“No, brother. I’m convinced. We’ll see if the suckers are running. Fish will be enough for me today. Moose, some other time.”
“Wàgosh, follow me. There is something I want to check out. These wolves had to have pups, and I would like one to raise.”
We then skirted around the wolverines and their kills.
“These four will come back here for days to eat the moose and the wolves that they killed here today. Woe to another animal that comes here to feed if the wolverines are in the vicinity.”
Wàgosh and I followed the trail that the wolves had left through the sparse snow until we came to a small den. I made the sound of a wolf calling its young, and instantly I received a small yowl in return. I had some meat in my pouch, and I set it outside the den. No sooner had I done this than a round ball of fur waddled out and grabbed the meat. I then grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and pulled the pup up in the air. He fought and squirmed, trying to turn his head to bite me, but to no avail. I noticed the pup was a male and had lots of fight in him.
“Wàgosh, I have a fierce companion now.”
I then noticed he had a small bit of white on his nose shaped like a blaze cut on a tree like when we cut the sweet water trees.
“Your name will be Ishkodewan (Blaze), and if you grow up to be as energetic and brave as you are now, we will have many good adventures together.”
10
The Amik
“WÀGOSH, AS WE WALKED from the ininàtig nòpimìng (maple forest) I noticed a pìtòshkob (pond). Let’s check to see if there is an amik-wìsh (beaver lodge) there. This is a good time of the year for amik pìwey (beaver fur).”
“Mahingan, I have rope for the arrows so that when we shoot them, they won’t swim away. It will be a nice treat to have some amikwànò (beaver tail) and beaver meat.”
We walked back along our trail beside a small river. The day was getting warmer, and I could feel the warmth of the sun on my face and also the heat radiating through my furs that I wore. Ishkodewan was doing a good job of keeping up with us. I had tied a rope around his neck to pull him along when necessary and then when he tired I would carry him for a distance. He still tried to nip at me, but whenever he did I gave him a slap on the nose. He soon got the meaning of this and quit.
After a short time we arrived at the pond. Our plan was to take no more than two beavers. That way we knew there would be more in the coming years. The Omàmiwinini never take more than is needed. That way we never incur the wrath of Kitchi Manitou.
We sat by the pond and ate some dry moose meat we had brought with us. We tied the rope to our arrows and to our waist. When a beaver is hit with an arrow it swims down into the water and heads for its watery home. With the rope tied around our waist, we stopped their progress and then pulled them to shore where we could finish them off with our clubs.
After sitting for a long time, two young beavers broke out of the water. We had made sure that we were downwind, and I had tied Ishkodewan in the forest. We let the beavers get close to our arrow range. Our bows twanged simultaneously. Wàgosh’s arrow hit his beaver on the animal’s side and mine was below the head. Our ropes tightened as the beavers dove back down into the water. It was then a race to see who pulled their kill to land first. The loser would have to carry the carcasses home. Wàgosh beat me handily. Mine was a fighter and when I got him to shore, he charged me. However, I was able to club him before he bit me.
Then, laying the beavers on their back on a large rock, we cut the legs off at the first joints and then slit the pelt starting at the lower lip. Inserting our knives into this slit we cut the pelt down the belly to the vent. Working from this centerline and cutting with short strokes, we separated the skin from the flesh. Carefully, we pulled the legs through the skin, leaving four round holes in the pelt. We then cut off the tail. With great care we cut around the eyes and the ears close to the skull. Then removing the pelt and being careful to take as little fat and flesh as possible we laid the pelt on the rock and wiped off the blood marks with water.
We then proceeded to take out the scent glands from near the tail and the insides of the legs, being careful not to rupture the sacs. We would use these scents to bait our snare traps for other beavers and for the odjìg (fisher), a predator of the beaver.
The beaver tails and meat would make a fine feast for us. Wàbananang would be able to stretch and clean the pelts and make a warm coat or hat.
After finishing with the beaver I wrapped the meat up into the skins and tied everything together and slung it over my shoulders to carry back. Wàgosh and I then went back and retrieved Ishkodewan from the woods and fed him a piece of the meat.
“Wàgosh, on the way back we’ll check the sap containers and dump what we have into our clay pots. Hopefully, we’ll have enough for the women to boil today.”
Upon reaching the maple forest we started to collect the sweet water. Then I heard an arrow whistle by my head and thud into the tree beside me.
11
Mitigomij
WÀGOSH SNAPPED HIS HEAD around and yelled, “Brother, stop that!”
With that, the two of us turned around and out of the forest came Mitigomij (Red Oak).
“Brothers, if I was a Haudenosaunee you both would be dead right now!”
“Mitigomij, with you around we have no fear of Haudenosaunee. We know that you would have already killed them,” said Wàgosh.
“Is that mishi-pijiw you call Makadewà Wàban (Black Dawn) with you?” I asked.
“Brother, there is only one way to find out, and that is to pretend to attack me.”
Wàgosh then said, “We are not that foolish, Mitigomij!”
Mitigomij was my third brother. He was the best archer in our tribe and his power with a wewebasinàbàn (slingshot) was second to none. Mitigomij was also accomplished with the anit (spear), mìgàdinàn pagamàgin
