by Rick Revelle
I then turned my attention toward the sound of the dogs and Makwa. The animals had torn the pants completely off of their adversary. The man was fighting for his life and had cut the small dog on its withers with his bone knife. Men and animals were covered with blood, as was the snow around them. The beleaguered warrior finally broke free and ran back from where he had come.
Meanwhile, Makwa was in distress. He had a knife embedded in his shoulder and blood running down his face from a head wound. He was valiantly trying to fend off his attackers, but they had gotten the upper hand on him. Both of his attackers were bloodied. However, one had worked his way around Makwa and with all his might swung down on Makwa’s head with a large club made out of a huge tree knot. Makwa dropped to his knees and just as the Nippissing was swinging again, there was a blood-curdling scream as a massive spear tore into the back of the man. Without a sound, the remaining warrior took one look at Mònz and Wàgosh running toward the battle, and ran off with the speed of a frightened deer. The battle between Kàg and his foe ended with the entrance of Wàgosh and Mònz. Kàg’s adversary broke off the encounter and ran.
The three fleeing Nippissing grabbed the dead man with the arrow in his throat and also the warrior with the arrow in his thigh. They escaped to the tree line. I turned to look at the man I had battled with and all that remained was a pool of blood. I could see him in the distance staggering toward the tree line following the remnants of the group.
We didn’t disturb the body of the dead man that they left behind. We would leave him where he had fallen and his fellow warriors would come back for his body. Our group did not give chase, as these men had suffered enough, and we had to make our escape from their lands. Two of them had died and two were badly wounded, and the latter might not survive unless they could get them to their healer.
For us, we had suffered a huge loss. Makwa, my sister’s man, had fallen in battle. There would be great sorrow when we arrived back at our village with this news. With a journey home longer than the six days we took to get here, we would have to bury Makwa on the trail.
Neither Kàg nor his foe had suffered any wounds, but my ear was still bleeding from the axe blow. I put some willow pumice on it to keep out the poison and some jimsonweed to cover the wound and help it heal.
With not knowing how far the Nippissing had come from their winter homes, we were at a loss as to how long a time frame we had to finish our butchering. Our main fear was that they would return with a larger force and catch us here.
Having this in mind, we had to rush our job at hand. I had the twins tend to the wounded small dog using only willow to mend the injury. If we put jimsonweed on the wound, he would lick it and die from the poison of the herb. We would have to pull a toboggan with Makwa on it until we could bury him. The twins would have to take on extra duties now that we were short one warrior.
I told the boys that after they tended to the dogs they were to start a fire and roast some moose for us. I calculated that we had to get the big bull butchered, make the travois and toboggans, and be away from there by morning light. We would use mònzwegin (moose hide) and some woody vines to make binding for the carriers. Time was of the essence.
The farther away we got from this battle site the less stomach the Nippissing would have to follow us. But we knew they would not forget this intrusion and the losses they had suffered.
3
The Burial
WITH A LARGE FIRE snapping away, we proceeded to make the five toboggans that were needed for the trip back to our villages. Each of the four hunters had to pull a toboggan, plus the twins had to take turns with the other. The red dog and the white one pulled a travois. The small dog was not required to because of its wound. The travois poles were easy to strap on the dogs. Using moose hide, we fastened it across the two poles and then the load was tied down.
The twins now, besides tending the fire and cooking us some meat, also had to cut leather strips from the moose hide for the bindings, plus cut us lengths of the wild grape vines for added strength. The dogs were our sentries that night, as every one else had a job to do. They had been fed well, and even though they were content with full bellies, they were alert.
Kàg and I heated the green poles that had been cut for the toboggans in the fire. The poles had to be heated so one end could be bent without breaking. The front end of the sleds had to have an upward curve on them so they could be pulled without digging into the snow. Once they were heated enough and bent, Wàgosh and Mònz tied the poles with leather bindings and sat the framework that they had built on top. The leather was laid in small grooves to keep from interfering with the pulling of the toboggan. The poles were then kept as tightly together as possible to avoid gaps that the snow could come through. Leather pieces of the hide were then tied from the framework to the curved section to keep the bent poles from springing back out of shape. With all of us working together we had the toboggans and travois ready well before daylight. Everyone then ate and we hurriedly erected a small lean-to with the remaining poles facing the fire. After covering it with cedar boughs, we slept through the rest of the cold night.
With the approach of dawn we loaded all the toboggans with the moose meat and the body of Makwa. We took all that we could load on the sleds and left the rest. If the Nippissing came back this way before any wolves arrived, they would find enough meat to feed themselves for a while. We all had the burden of extra weight until the time came that we could bury Makwa. Agwingos and the small dog led us. Following them was Esiban pulling a toboggan. The twins would take turns pulling the sled whenever one or the other tired, and then the other twin had to lead us on the trail we had travelled here on. Plus be a lookout. Wàgosh, Kàg, Mònz, and I followed in that order. I pulled the sled with the body of Makwa plus as much meat as I could carry. The other two dogs brought up the rear; they needed packed down snow to pull their travois. The red dog had the antlers and a bit of meat and the white dog had the large hide. We had tied pieces of hide around all the dogs’ feet to protect their pads and to keep snow from collecting between their toes.
The start of the day was bitterly cold and our breath hung like clouds in the air. The only sounds that could be heard at the outset were the breaking of the snow under our moccasins and the creak of the sleds. Even the twins were too encumbered in their tasks at hand to be talking and teasing each other. We trudged through the snow until the sun was high in the sky. Then we stopped for a meal. The twins untied the red and white dogs from their travois and started a fire. I asked Wàgosh to walk ahead for a while to see if all was clear, and I backtracked for a distance to make sure no one was on our trail.
In half an hour we had a good fire going and meat cooking. Neither Wàgosh nor I had seen any activity in either direction. Kàg mentioned though that he had noticed a wind change and that Kaibonokka’s brother Shawano (God of the South Wind) was starting to blow. That meant that a storm was approaching, and we might have to sit it out as soon as we found good shelter. Mònz reminded us of the rock overhang that we had passed previously on our journey. If we could make it there before the storm hit, there would be adequate cover and we could sit out the tempest that was coming our way. The only advantage about the approaching storm was that it would make the Nippissing think twice about following us if they had thoughts of revenge.
After we had finished our meals, we melted enough snow to fill our small clay water casks that we all carried around our waists. Everyone then took their place in line and we continued on our journey. With the shifting wind and the snow starting to sting our faces, we were in for an uncomfortable trek. With bent heads we struggled against the cold and the snow, everyone straining against the leather ropes that pulled their toboggans. The only thing that kept us going was the realization that we would reach a sheltered area and be able to rest, eat, and feel safe in a haven protected from the elements that would want to harm us. We prayed to Kitchi Manitou (Father of Life) to guide us to the rock overhang.
Fin
ally, after what felt like an eternity, Esiban, with the small dog in tow, ran down the line saying that he could see through the snow to the area where the outcrop was. Within minutes we were sheltered. The rock had an overhang that enabled us to go back into a small cliff about twenty feet; the roof itself was about twelve feet high. The floor of the small cave was dirt, and we easily built a fire. Some of the smoke escaped out from under the rock, but what stayed stung our eyes. This was no different than being in our lodges. We always had problems with our smouldering fires burning our eyes and causing them to water, because as hard as we tried, we couldn’t get the smoke to dissipate. Some of our people, as they grew older developed eye problems from the cooking and heating fires in their lodges.
Outside the cave we were well guarded by tall cedar, pine, and a couple of dirt mounds. Agwingos and Esiban collected wood, and we put the loaded sleds at the back of the cave so the meat would stay frozen. Kàg made a large spit and hung a good portion of moose meat over the fire. Wàgosh and I took the body of Makwa and put him well away from the fire. Our hope was that the fire would thaw the ground enough for us to bury this great warrior as close to his final battle as we could.
After we ate and drank, Mònz started telling stories. During this time I took some charcoal from the fire and some bloodroot I had in my satchel. With my paints I went to the rock wall closest to the flickering fire and started to draw the story of the hunt of the moose and the battle that ensued. Whoever came this way would know that brave men had battled and died so that their families would not starve. After I finished my drawings, I sat down for the first watch and looked over the small band of Omàmiwinini that I was leading. There was Kàg, my oldest brother and the father of Agwingos and Esiban. Kàg was a head taller than me but lighter in weight. He always wore two hawk feathers in his hair and had an earring of a bear claw in one ear. On his forehead, where he had the dent from the Haudenosaunee war club, he had drawn a tattoo of the sun to keep the spot warm because his headaches felt like ice.
Wàgosh, our younger brother, was just entering warrior-hood. No longer a young boy, Wàgosh had undergone the Wysoccan Journey and had left his childhood behind. Wàgosh was taller than Kàg, heavily muscled, and always wore a foxtail in his hair. He had a large scar on his cheek that he received during a summer trading session with the Malecite. It was the result of a lacrosse game that all the young boys of the two tribes had been playing. The game had become rough and bloody. His prize possession was a knife he had made out of the horn of his first hunt, a large white-tailed nàbe (buck).
Mònz, our brother-in-law, was a warrior and great hunter. The loss of two fingers in a battle with the Nippissing years before had forced him to become expert with the lance. He was a huge man and in battle or the hunt he was always the first to strike. He wore a necklace of bear claws of a nòjek (female bear) that did not take kindly of him stumbling on her and her makòns (cubs) one spring past. In the ensuing battle Mònz struck a fatal blow with his knife to the bear’s throat, but Mònz wore the scars of the combat. His left shoulder had deep scars from the claw of the bear, plus along the left side of his neck her mark was also prominent. If he hadn’t been with a hunting party that day he would have died in the woods. It took many weeks and the intense healing power of our Shaman to save his life. Learning the lesson from the bear, now it is Mònz who always strikes first.
For my part, I am known as Mahingan because my eyes have the slant of the gray wolf. I have seen twenty-five or more summers and have led my tribe since the passing of my father. The Shaman had told my father before he died that I would be great leader. In my hair I wear three misise (turkey) feathers because the wild turkey is one of the bravest animals in the forest. In my ears are the claws of a wolf, and now I have only part of the top of my right ear because of the Nippissing war axe.
The twins Agwingos and Esiban still have a few years to live until they have to take the Wysoccan Journey. They are active, always do what they are told, and are a great help whenever we take them hunting. The dogs stay with the boys at all times because they always make a fuss over them and are responsible for their feeding. Their looks are very similar, and at times they are hard to tell apart. In the winter we make Esiban wear his namesake’s fur as a hat. That way we can recognize them. In the summer it is anyone’s guess telling them apart.
The three dogs that we had with us were great hunters and war dogs. The huge red male dog and the white female dog were mates. The small dog was one of their pups, but he never grew as big as his parents did. His problem was he never backed down from a fight and was covered with scars along with his new wound from the Nippissing knife. Dogs are an important companion for the Omàmiwinini because they serve many purposes for us: beasts of burden, hunters, camp guards, and food in times of near starvation.
Feeling my eyes grow heavy, I woke Wàgosh for the next watch. Before I went to sleep, I walked out of the cave to relieve myself and to check on the weather. The snow was still coming down heavily and the wind was 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 ba
ck 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.