by Nadine Neema
After the prayer, I turned to Alice and said, “It’s kind of creepy to see an old grave along these trails, don’t you think?”
“They say because the man died here, his spirit still lingers,” she answered. “And if you pray to him when you pass through, he will protect you on the trail.”
“I wonder what his story is. How did he die?” I asked.
“Who knows?” Layla responded with her eyes full of intrigue. “There are so many legends on these trails.”
I thought of Uncle Joe. I wondered if his spirit lingered somewhere too. I’ve been praying to him, but I don’t know if he hears me. I don’t know if anyone hears me.
I helped gather kindling to make the fire. I walked around with Uncle Gordie, looking for small dry pieces. Then I helped set up our tent.
First I clicked the poles into place, then Uncle Gordie slipped them into the fabric. I gave him the pegs, and he anchored the tent to the ground. He showed me how to push the pegs in with the heel of my foot.
Grandpa looked at me and smiled.
“I love setting up our home in a different place each night,” I told him. I put our sleeping bags in the tent and went to find the others.
Kyle ran over when he saw me. “Look at all the stars,” he said, staring at the sky. There were ever lots of stars out. “I think they are all babies of the moon. The moon is the mommy. She will protect us while we sleep.” What he said was very cute but also meaningful to him. I realized each of us make our own meanings. We each find whatever it is that makes us feel safe.
We played Bubble Gum. “Bubble gum, bubble gum in the dish. How many bubble gums do you wish?” Alice sang as she tapped all of our fists. The last person was me.
“Seven!” I said. Alice counted to seven and it fell on Kyle so he was out. He was upset to be the first one out, so Layla suggested we let him play again. We played for a while, then we went to eat. I helped Uncle Gordie fetch water from the lake.
Later, Grandpa sat on a rock and told the four of us stories about life in the old days.
“Life is easy now,” he said. “Whatever you need, you can get easily. Back then it wasn’t like that. It was hard to get things. We couldn’t just go to the store whenever we wanted. We had to make our own caribou jackets and pants. We used the caribou hide from August because we knew it was thick and would keep us warm. We wore the fur on the inside so we wouldn’t get cold.”
I sat quietly, listening carefully, interested in every detail. I didn’t fidget or get bored once.
“Before we got power and fuel to heat the place, all we had was candles and lanterns. We made our own wood stoves with forty-five-gallon barrels. If we ran out of candles, we had to make our own with caribou fat. To get water in winter, we had to make a hole through the ice with a chisel. It was hard to get food too. We had to catch all our food. We caught rabbits, fish, muskrat, caribou...” He named a whole bunch of animals. “Now we have store-bought meat and canned foods. Now you can just put a mattress down and go to sleep. Back then, you needed to have caribou hide.”
Their world has changed so much so fast, I thought. Mom says the whole world has.
“Seeing the grave today reminded me of how things used to be,” he went on. “It’s important to know where you come from to appreciate what you have. And like Chief Bruneau said, ‘to be strong like two people.’”
I want to be strong like two people too.
Day 7, Early Morning:
The Dream
I just woke up. Everyone else is still sleeping. The sun is coming up over the horizon, and the mist is crawling across the lake.
I dreamt I was lying in my tent and the spirit of an Elder came to me. He sat at the end of my mattress. At first I was petrified. I didn’t know what it was. He told me not to be afraid. His voice was ever loving.
Then he spoke in a more serious but still loving tone. “You must be vigilant on the trails, my child. Your actions can put you in severe danger. They can cost you your life. And they can put other people in danger too. You must pay attention and be careful. You cannot be lazy. Look after yourself. Look after each other. Travel safely and together. This is how you survive on the land. And when you have done everything you can to be prepared, remember you are still at the mercy of the elements around you. Then, all you can do is surrender to the Great Spirit.”
And then he disappeared. It was a dream, but it was ever real. I tried to draw what he looked like so I won’t forget.
I feel it was the spirit of the man buried on this island. I feel that somehow he’s still here. Maybe the ancestors really do keep watching over us when they pass. Maybe Uncle Joe does hear me when I talk to him.
Everyone is still asleep. The birds are chirping, and the wolves are howling in the distance. There’s a little village of people snoring. It reminds me how small we all are in this great big world.
I lay my head down on the tiny branch. There are hardly any needles left. Most of them have been rubbed off. But it still gives me comfort.
Day 7, Later:
Our Tipi
Today I paddled! Grandpa said I was ready, and he let me try. It was ever great! It took a lot of concentration and coordination. My strokes had to be very consistent so I could keep up with the rhythm of everyone else. I felt a bit tired after a while, but I didn’t want to stop. I loved it! I loved the feeling of being part of the team, of pushing the water back, knowing that the boat was moving forward because of me. I felt so much purpose.
Uncle Jimmy was sitting behind me, and a few times I splashed him by accident when I lifted the paddle out of the water. At least it was a warm day so it wasn’t so bad. And he didn’t seem to mind.
We paddled all day. Well, I didn’t paddle all day, but I did paddle for a long time. We made little stops along the way to wait for the other canoes. We saw an eagle flying above us and a moose standing at the edge of the woods near the water. It looked so grand. We also saw a family of loons. Grandpa told a story about how these animals used to be human.
“They wanted to become animals, so they were given wings and became what we call the loon. The raven saw them diving in the water and coming up and plunging back in again. He saw they were happy and enjoying themselves, and he was jealous. He wanted to do that too. He asked to become like them, but he was told he needed to talk like them to become like them. He tried to make their sound, but instead he cawed like a crow. So, he had to keep being a raven. He was angry and threw mud on the loons. That’s why today they have that grey spot on their heads.”
At one point it got very windy, and we stopped for lunch in a big clearing in the forest near the water. Some of the younger men put lots of wood in a pile and made a big fire.
The wind was blowing ever strong. The fire became huge. At first it looked cool. Then people came running to help put it out, and I realized it was out of control. “Get water. Hurry!” I heard someone yell. There was a lot of commotion. For a moment I thought the whole camp might burn down.
It made me think about my dream, about what the spirit had said: we need to look after each other and be careful. We could have burned down the forest today. We could have gotten really hurt. Anything can happen when we don’t pay attention. I resolved to be mindful.
The camp tonight is tiny. It’s on the thin point of an island. When we first arrived, each side of the point had a very distinct view from the other—there seemed to be two lakeshores, two completely different skies with contrasting clouds, and very different light. It was almost as if I could see two separate worlds by just turning my head.
The loons were singing their sweet songs. And the sun took forever to set. It was pink and white, then orange. The mist was rising over the lake. It was like a painting.
“Wow! Look at the bubble around the moon,” Kyle exclaimed. There was a bright ring of lig
ht around the moon. “Why is it there?” he asked.
“I guess it’s the moon’s light making that bubble,” I answered.
Kyle appeared to consider that for a moment. “I think it’s the sun that is sleeping next to the moon,” he said. “I think the sun loves the moon so he wants to sleep next to her. And that’s the sun’s light shining around the moon.”
“I think you’re right,” I said with a smile.
Alice, Layla, and I built a little tipi. We gathered a lot of tree branches and connected them together. When we got stuck, we asked Uncle Gordie and Alice’s dad to help us. They cut some longer tree branches and connected them all on top. It made a tipi almost twice as high as me, with an opening in front. In that opening, about halfway up, we put smaller branches across, leaving space for the door below.
“It’s like our own little home in this great new town!” Alice said.
We played there for a long time. Auntie Rosaline, Grandma, and Alice’s mom came to visit. They helped us pick spruce branches to make an orì carpet so we could all sit comfortably.
“Would you like some tea?” I asked, pretending to hold a teapot.
“Oh sure,” Grandma said and extended her imaginary cup.
“With milk and one sugar,” Auntie added. Everyone laughed.
We had the best tea party. Then the adults helped us collect some wood to make a mini fire outside. Grandma told me how well I had paddled.
“I am proud of you, my girl,” she said. “You have grown so much on this journey. You are taking your place on these trails and in this world.”
She fed the fire with some tobacco and said a prayer for our continued safety and growth on this trip. The three of them left shortly after that, but Alice, Layla, and I hung out in the tipi for most of the night. We talked about places where our bodies were aching from the trip. We showed each other our blisters, scratches, and mosquito bites.
“I’m the winner!” I said. “I have the most scars from this trip.”
“Lucky you!” Alice replied. We started laughing. We laughed a lot about silly things. Then Layla got more serious.
“This is going to be our last year of school in Wekweètì,” she said. “Where do you think you’ll go to high school?”
“Behchokò˛ or Yellowknife,” answered Alice. “I’m not sure yet.”
“I guess it depends where my mom will be working,” I said. I felt a pang in my heart. It was the first time I imagined not being with them.
“I hope we’ll all be together,” Alice jumped in.
“Me too,” echoed Layla, grabbing both of our hands. “Let’s always be best friends, no matter what.”
“Yes!” Alice and I exclaimed at the same time.
“Jinx!” we both yelled together.
“Double jinx!” We were both laughing hysterically.
“Seriously,” Layla pleaded.
“Best friends no matter what,” I repeated. Alice put an arm around each of us. And we hugged for a while. I really hope we stay together.
Before leaving, we built a sign that we put in front of the door. It said, No Buddy is Home!
It was late when I headed back to our camp. By the fire, Grandpa was finishing a story about the land claims agreement. I sat down and caught the end. “So our people worked very hard to arrive at this point when we will finally govern ourselves and become owners of our land. This is a huge moment in our history.” I’m beginning to understand why everyone is so excited.
Just as Grandma, Grandpa, and I were walking to our tent, the northern lights came out! Magnificent swirling ghosts of green light pulsated through the sky, merging together and splitting apart. We stood watching for a while. I could watch them forever.
“The lights are dancing in the sky just like we will soon be dancing at the drum dance!” I said to Grandpa.
“Yes my girl, the dagawo!” he said and started singing, “Hine’e he’e, he ho hine’e ha, hine’e he’e...”
I put away my journal and zip up my sleeping bag. I fall asleep hearing the drummers singing and seeing the northern lights dancing to the beat of the drums.
Day 8:
The Big Animal
We’re getting closer to the Assembly. Tomorrow, all the boats from the four communities will meet on an island near Behchokò˛. And the next day we’ll all paddle to the community together!
Everyone is talking about self-government. And they’re talking about land claims. “Thirty-nine thousand square kilometres of land will be Tłı˛cho˛ land,” I heard Grandma say.
I don’t know how much land that is, but Auntie Rosaline says it’s ever lots. I’m starting to get excited too. I try to imagine what that number looks like and how much space that would take. Thirty-nine plus three zeroes...
After leaving the campsite this morning, we paddled for many hours before finally reaching the portage. Our canoe was first to arrive. It was a tiny island covered in trees with a path that went straight across. We could see the other end of the trail.
That’s when I saw him. The Big Animal. A towering black creature looking straight at us.
I was a little scared but mostly in awe. I wanted to say something, but I couldn’t speak. It was so big. It looked ever powerful and kind of gentle at the same time. I’ve never been so close to the Big Animal before. I rubbed the branch in my pocket and kept looking at the beast.
Uncle Jimmy doesn’t carry a gun, and he had no more bear bangers, which make super-loud noises like gunshots to scare the animal away. Instead he grabbed the kettle and started banging his paddle on it. It made ever lots of noise. He told us to stay calm and walk together. We walked in a line, following him on the trail while he whacked the kettle. As we walked straight towards the Big Animal, it moved through the forest in a ‘U’ shape around us. I followed Uncle Jimmy, watching the bear travel between the trees and over a massive rock. When we arrived at the end of the trail where we’d first seen the bear, it had reached our canoe and was sniffing our bags.
Uncle Jimmy made a fire by the water’s edge. I caught my breath. “It’s amazing that we share a planet with them, isn’t it, Grandma?”
She explained to me how important it is to respect them. “Many years ago, there were two people who built a cabin near Wekweètì,” she said. “They shot a bear and skinned it. Then they opened his mouth and used it as a quilt. They disrespected the spirit of the Big Animal. So his spirit sent a curse on those people. There was nothing for them to eat that winter, and they froze.”
I’ve heard it said many times that the spirit of the Big Animal is a very powerful one.
The other boats arrived at the start of the portage, and one of the crew bosses fired his gun into the sky. The Big Animal went away.
I spotted Alice and Layla and ran over to tell them what had happened.
“Were you scared?” Alice asked.
“It was kind of amazing,” I replied. “Uncle Jimmy said it must have been looking for food.”
“Well, it’s a good thing it didn’t try to eat you!” Layla exclaimed. We started laughing.
The mosquitoes were devouring me. They swarmed around my face and ears like a tornado, eating me alive. I grabbed the bug spray and put on ever lots. Alice and Kyle did the same. Auntie Rosaline told us we had to ration it or we might run out before reaching Behchokò˛.
“What does ration mean?” Kyle asked.
“Limit the amount of spray each person uses,” Alice explained.
“I hate mosquitoes,” he answered.
“Yeah, me too,” I agreed. “Too bad we have to share the Earth with them!”
After we’d set off paddling again, I couldn’t stop looking at the clouds. One side of the sky was like a priceless painting made up of many varying brushstrokes. The other side was like humungous cotton balls mak
ing all kinds of dreamy shapes. Lots of different birds were singing their songs. One of them had a lovely, elaborate melody. I kept trying to copy it until we were singing in unison. I forget how it goes now. I hope to hear it again tomorrow.
We passed a nest with many chicks, and the mama bird screeched at us until we were far ahead. It was so cute how she protected her little ones. The water sparkled like diamonds. The dragonflies were as big as hummingbirds. We saw two beavers swimming together across the lake. There was an abundance of life everywhere.
The campground tonight is on rocky ground. It was hard to find the right place to put the tent. Uncle Jimmy found some good spots, but I wondered how we would put the pegs through. He said that we wouldn’t have to. We’d put our bags or something heavy in each of the four corners to hold the tent down.
After I finished helping, I went to find the others. We ran around the different camps. There were ever lots of wolves howling in the distance.
“Why are the wolves crying?” little Kyle asked.
“That’s what wolves do,” Layla answered with a warm smile. “They howl.”
“I think it’s because they want to play with us.” Kyle said. “But they’re not allowed to, so they’re crying.”
After supper, we went to sit next to Grandpa by the fire. I was happy he was talking about land claims and self-government. I want to learn all about it, even though it takes a lot of concentration.
“It took twelve years of negotiations to get here,” he said. “Twelve years of trying to understand each other. But we managed to combine land claims and self-government into one agreement, instead of two. Usually, they are two separate agreements. This is the first time in the Northwest Territories and only the second time in all of Canada that this has ever happened.”
I don’t fully understand what he was saying, but I do understand this agreement is ever important.
I’m in my tent. My mind is racing. I can’t lie still. Tomorrow we’ll be meeting all the other boats from the other communities!