Pressing her fate, Sa’ followed. She could not run as strongly as when she was young, but with something that looked more like a limp than a jog, Sa’ was able to pursue the large animal. A moose can outrun a human any time unless, of course, there is too much snow. But on a snowless day like this, the moose sprinted far ahead as Sa’, gasping for breath, barely caught a glimpse of his large hind-end disappearing behind the brush. The big bull stopped many times, almost as if he were playing a game with Sa’, and just when she almost caught up, he would saunter far ahead once more. Normally, a moose will run as far as he can from any predator. But today, the moose did not feel much like running, nor did he feel threatened, so the old woman was able to keep him in sight. She was stubborn and would not give up, although she knew that she was outmatched. By late afternoon, the moose seemed to grow tired of the game as he watched her from the corner of his dark round eyes, and with one flip of his ear he began to run faster. Only then did Sa’ admit to herself that there was no way she could catch it. She stared at the empty brush in defeat. Slowly she turned back, thinking to herself, “If only I were forty years younger, I might have caught him.”
It was late that night when Sa’ returned to the camp where her friend kept watch by a large campfire. As Sa’ sank wearily into a bundle of spruce boughs, Ch’idzigyaak could not help but blurt out, “I think many more years were taken from me while I worried for you.” Despite the admonishment in her voice, Ch’idzigyaak was deeply relieved that no harm had come to her friend.
Knowing that she had been foolish, Sa’ understood what her friend had been through and she felt ashamed. Ch’idzigyaak handed her a bowl of warm fish meat and Sa’ ate slowly. When a little of her strength returned, Sa’ told Ch’idzigyaak how she spent the day. Ch’idzigyaak smiled as she envisioned her friend chasing the long-legged bull, but she did not smile too broadly for it was not in her nature to laugh at others. Sa’ was grateful for that, and then, remembering the cranberries, told her friend about the great find and they both were cheered.
It took a few days for Sa’ to recover from her adventure with the moose, so the two old women sat still and wove birch bark into large round bowls. Then they went back to the hill and gathered as many berries as they could carry. By that time, autumn was upon them and the nights became chillier, reminding the women that there was no time to waste in gathering their winter wood supply.
They piled wood high around their cache and shelter, and when they cleared all the wood from the area around the camp, they walked far back into the forest, packing in more bundles of wood on their backs. This went on until snowflakes fell from the sky, and one day the women awoke to a land shrouded in white. Now that winter was near, the women spent more time inside their shelter by the warm fire. Their days seemed easier now that they were prepared.
Soon the women fell into a daily routine of collecting wood, checking rabbit snares, and melting snow for water. They sat evenings by the campfire, keeping each other company. During the months past, the women were too busy to think about what had happened to them, and if the thought did cross their minds, they blocked it out. But now that they had nothing else to do in the evenings, those unwelcome thoughts kept coming back until soon each woman began to talk less as each stared thoughtfully into the small fire. They felt it was a taboo to think of those who had abandoned them, but now the treacherous thoughts invaded their minds.
The darkness grew longer, and the land became silent and still. It took much concentration for the two women to fill their long days with work. They made many articles of rabbit-fur clothing such as mittens, hats, and face coverings. Yet, despite this, they felt a great loneliness slowly enclose them.
CHAPTER 6
Sadness among The People
The chief stood surveying his surroundings with eyes made a little older by deep sadness. His people were in a desperate state, their eyes and cheeks sunk low in gaunt faces and their tattered clothing barely able to keep out the freezing cold. Many of them were frostbitten. Luck had gone against them. In desperation, still searching for game, they had returned to the place where they abandoned the two old women the winter before.
Sadly, the chief remembered how he fought the urge to turn back and save the old ones. But taking them back into the band would have been the worst thing for him to do. Many of the more ambitious younger men would have seen this as an act of weakness. And the way things had been going, The People would have been easily convinced that their leader was not dependable. No, the chief had known that a drastic change in leadership would have proved more damaging than the hunger, for in times when a band is starving, bad politics lead only to further disaster. The chief remembered that moment of terrible weakness when he had almost allowed his emotions to ruin them all.
Now, once more, The People were suffering, and this winter found them on the verge of hopelessness. After turning their backs on the old women, The People traveled many hard miles before coming on a small herd of caribou. The meat sustained them until spring when they began to harvest fish, ducks, muskrats, and beaver. But just when they regained their energy to hunt and dry their food, the summer season ended, and it was time to think of moving toward the place where they would be able to find winter meat. The chief had never known such terrible luck. As they traveled, the fall season came and went, and once more the band found itself nearly out of food. Now the chief looked at The People wearily with a feeling of panic and self-doubt. How long could he hold out before he, too, became lost in the hunger and fatigue that undermined his decisions? The People seemed to have given up trying to survive. They no longer cared to hear his lectures, staring at him with dulled eyes as if he made no sense.
Something else that troubled the chief was his decision to return to the place where they had left the old women. No one argued as he led them here, but the chief knew they were surprised. Now they stood looking around as if they expected something from him, or expected to see the two women. The chief avoided their eyes, not wanting them to know that he was as confused as they were. There was not a single sign that anyone had been left here. Not one bone gave evidence that the old ones had died. Even if an animal had stripped their bones of flesh, surely something would have been left behind to show that humans had died here. But there was nothing, not even the tent that had sheltered the women.
Among The People was a guide named Daagoo. He was an old man, younger than the two old women, but still considered an elder. In his younger days, Daagoo had been a tracker, but the years had dimmed his vision and skills. He observed out loud what none of the others would acknowledge. “Maybe they moved on,” he said in a low voice so that only the chief would hear him. But in the silence, many heard him and some felt a surge of hope for the women many had loved.
After setting up camp, the chief summoned the guide and three of his strongest young hunters. “I do not know what is going on, but I have a feeling that all is not as it appears to be. I want you to go to the camps near here and see what you can find.”
The chief was quiet about what he suspected, but he knew that the guide and the three hunters would understand, especially Daagoo, for he had watched the chief from season to season and had come to know what the man was thinking. Daagoo respected the chief and realized that he suffered from self-loathing because of the part he had played in abandoning the old women. The guide knew the chief despised his own weakness, for it showed in the hard lines of bitterness etched on his face. The old man sighed. He knew that soon the self-hate would take its toll, and he did not like the thought of a good man such as the chief being destroyed this way. Yes, he would try to find out what had happened to the women, even if the effort was wasted.
Long after the four men left camp the chief stared after them. He could not find a definite reason why he wasted precious energy and time on what might be a futile effort. Yet he, too, had a strange feeling of hope. Hope for what? He had no answer. All the chief knew for sure was that in hard times The People should hold together
, and last winter they had not done so. They had inflicted an injustice on themselves and the two old women, and he knew that The People had suffered silently since that day. It would be good if the two women survived, but the chief knew the odds weighed against that hope. How could two feeble ones survive freezing cold without food or the strength to hunt? The chief acknowledged this, yet he could not still the small speck of hope that sprang from months of hardship. Finding the women alive would give The People a second chance and that, perhaps, was what he hoped for most.
Each of the four men was conditioned to run long distances. What took the two women days to travel to the first camp the year before took the four men a single day. They found nothing but endless snow and trees. The trek taxed their limited energy, and they decided to spend the night there. When the first hint of morning dawned, the men were up and jogging once more.
Daylight was fading when the men arrived at the second camp, and the younger men saw no evidence that it had been used in a long time. Impatience began to overtake them. They had been trained from childhood to respect their elders, but sometimes they thought they knew more than the older ones. Although they did not say so out loud, they felt precious time was being wasted when they should be hunting for moose.
“Let’s turn back now,” one of the young men suggested, and the others agreed quickly.
The guide’s eyes lit up in amusement. How impatient they were! Yet Daagoo did not criticize the others for he, too, had been impatient as a young man. Instead, he said, “Take a closer look around you.” The young hunters looked at him impatiently.
“Look closely at those birch trees,” Daagoo insisted, and the men stared blankly at the trees. They saw nothing unusual. Daagoo sighed, and this caught the attention of one of the younger men, who tried again to see what the old man saw. Finally, his eyes widened. “Look!” he said, pointing to an empty patch on a birch tree. Then they saw that other trees spaced widely throughout the area had been stripped carefully, almost as if done intentionally so that no one would notice.
“Maybe it was another band,” one of the men said.
“Why would they try to hide those empty spots on the trees?” Daagoo asked. The young man shrugged, unable to find an answer.
Then Daagoo gave them instructions. “Before we return,” he said, “I want to search this area.” Before they could protest, the guide pointed them off in different directions. “If you see anything unusual, come right back here and we will go together to see what it is.” Tired as they were, the men began their search, although they were sulky and did not believe that the two women still lived.
Meanwhile, Daagoo set out in the direction he believed the two old women might have taken. “If I were afraid to be found by The People who left me to die, I would go this way,” he muttered to himself. “It is a senseless direction because it is far from water. But in winter they would not have to rely on the river, so I think they might be this way.”
Daagoo walked a long distance into the willows and beneath the tall spruce trees. As he trudged farther and farther over the snow, he felt weary and wondered if he was doing the right thing. How was it possible to believe that two old women could survive when they, The People, barely made it through that winter? Especially those two women. All they did was complain. Even when little children were hungry, the women complained and criticized. Many times, Daagoo expected someone to silence them, but that had not happened until the day things had gotten out of control. Daagoo began to feel they were on a useless hunt. The two women must have gotten lost and died along the way. Perhaps they had tried to cross the river and drowned.
As Daagoo thought about all of this, he became more doubtful with each negative thought. Then, suddenly, he smelled something. In the crystal-clear winter air, a light scent of smoke drifted past his nose and was gone. Daagoo stood very still as he tried to catch the scent once more, but there was nothing. For a moment, he wondered if it had been his imagination. Perhaps a summer fire nearby had left its lingering smell in the air. Not wanting to believe that, the old man backtracked slowly until once again he caught the scent. It was a light smell, but this time Daagoo knew that it was no remnant of a summer fire. No, this smoke had a freshness about it. Excited, he tried walking first in one direction, then another until the smoke grew stronger. Convinced that it came from a campfire nearby, his face crinkled into a broad grin as a certainty filled him—the two women had survived.
Daagoo hurried back to get the young men who were waiting as impatiently as before. They did not want to follow when he beckoned, but reluctantly, they followed Daagoo into the night for what seemed a long time. Finally, the guide held out his hand signaling them to stop. Lifting his nose, he told them to smell the air. The hunters sniffed but did not smell anything. “What is it you want us to smell?” one of them asked.
“Just keep smelling,” Daagoo answered, so the men sniffed the air again until one exclaimed, “I smell smoke!” The others walked around sniffing the air with more interest now until they, too, smelled it. Still skeptical, one of the younger men asked Daagoo what he expected to find. “We will see,” he said simply as he led them farther toward the smoke.
The guide’s eyes strained into the darkness looking for the light of a campfire. He saw nothing but outlines of spruce trees and willows. Aided by the small lights of the many stars above, Daagoo saw that the snow was untrampled. Everything was still and quiet. Yet, the evidence of smoke told him that somewhere near someone was camping. As sure as the blood raced through his veins, the old tracker was now confident that the two old women were alive and at that moment, close. He could not contain his excitement, turning to the younger men and saying, “The two old women are near.” Chills ran down the spines of the younger men. They still did not believe that the old ones had survived.
Cupping his hands to his mouth, Daagoo called the women’s names into the velvet night and identified himself. Then he waited, hearing only the sound of his own words swallowed by the silence.
CHAPTER 7
The stillness is broken
Ch’idzigyaak and Sa’ had settled down for the night. As usual, after doing their daily chores and eating their supper, the two women sat and talked over their fire. They spoke more of The People these days. Loneliness and time had healed their most bitter memories, and the hate and fear born from last year’s unexpected betrayal seemed to have been numbed by the many nights they spent sitting and listening to their own thoughts. It all seemed like a distant dream. Now, with their bellies full, the women found themselves in the comfort of their shelter speaking of how much they missed The People. When they ran out of conversation, the women sat silently, each wrapped in her own thoughts.
Suddenly, out of the stillness, the women heard their names called. From across the campfire, their eyes met, and they knew what they heard was not their imagination. The man’s voice became loud, and he identified himself. The women knew the old guide. Perhaps they could trust him. But what of the others? It was Ch’idzigyaak who spoke first. “Even if we do not answer, they will find us.”
Sa’ agreed. “Yes, they will find us,” she said as her mind raced with many thoughts.
“What will we do?” Ch’idzigyaak whined in panic.
Sa’ took a while to think. Then she said, “We must let them know we are here.” Seeing the look of hysteria enter her friend’s eyes, Sa’ hastened to say in smooth, confident tones, “We must be brave and face them. But my friend, be prepared for anything.” She waited a moment before she added, “Even death.” This did not comfort Ch’idzigyaak, who looked as frightened as her friend ever had seen her.
The two women sat a long time trying to gather what courage they had left. They knew they could run no longer. Finally, Sa’ got up slowly and went outside into the cold night air, hollering rather hoarsely, “We are here!”
Daagoo had been standing patiently, alertly, while the young hunters eyed him in doubt. What if it were someone else? An enemy perhaps? Just as one
of the men was about to voice doubts, out of the darkness they heard Sa’ answer. The old guide’s face broke into a wide smile. He knew it! They were alive. Immediately, they headed in the direction of the sound. The cold air made the woman’s voice seem close, but it took the men some time to reach the camp.
Finally, the men approached the light of the campfire that had been built outside the shelter. Standing by it were the two old women armed with long, sharp, dangerous-looking spears. Daagoo had to smile in admiration of the old women who stood like two warriors ready to defend themselves. “We mean you no harm,” he assured them.
The women stared at him defiantly a moment before Sa’ said, “I believe you come in peace. But why are you here?”
The guide stood a moment, unsure how to explain himself. “The chief sent me here to find you. He believed you were alive and told us to find you.”
“Why?” Ch’idzigyaak asked suspiciously.
“I do not know,” Daagoo said simply. Indeed, he was surprised to find that he did not know what he or the chief thought would happen once they found the two women, for it was obvious that the women did not trust him or the other men. “I will have to return to the chief to report that we have found you,” he said. The two women knew this.
“What then?” Sa’ asked.
The guide shrugged. “I do not know. But the chief will protect you no matter what happens.”
“Like he did the last time?” Ch’idzigyaak asked sharply.
Daagoo knew that if he wanted to, he and the three hunters easily could overtake these two women and their weapons. Yet, he felt his admiration grow stronger because the two women were ready to fight whatever they had to face. These were not the same women he had known before.
Two Old Women: An Alaska Legend of Betrayal, Courage and Survival Page 5