《The Echo Makers》


 Chapter 1. In the Shadows

    He stood in the shadow of the cedar. Silent, still, he watched Miinan. Her black hair reflected the light of Father Sun. Her skin glowed warm and brown. How he wanted to touch her. He wanted to speak to her, but he could not. She would be angry if she knew he had followed her. She thought this was her special, secret place. It was also his. It was his, because she came here. The Great Sea stretched before Miinan, the waters etched her in shimmering light. All of Ajijaak longed to stand beside her, but he could not. He was not allowed to walk with her. Fresh rage tore at his heart. If only he had been able to make her father see his worth, but Mikinaak could not, would not ever think he was good enough for his oldest daughter. Mikinaak was Mide, he knew the powers of healing and destruction and he practiced them. To cross him in anyway would bring further harm to Ajijaak¡¯s family. They had been hurt enough already.


    Miinan began to sing with the waves that brushed the rocky shore, her voice called Ajijaak away from his despair. The rise and fall of her song echoed the beat of the water. A whooping crane rose from the shore. Miinan followed the flight of this silent creature. Once she told Ajijaak she wished she had been born a feathered sister. She longed to fly.


    The sinking sun shot spears of orange light across the choppy water. Miinan lifted her hands. Her body swayed with the rhythm of the waves. Ajijaak felt his own body sway. How he wanted to dance with her. His feet began to quietly tap in rhythm with Miinan¡¯s song. The invisible wind caught her black braid. It swirled around her rising upwards. The dead arms of the cedar caught the wind and groaned. Inwardly Ajijaak groaned as well. It was painful to remain hidden. Painful to know his love for Miinan was forbidden.


    Something moved in the trees. Ajijaak glanced away from Miinan. The form of a lumbering black bear was moving through the underbrush. It seemed to be headed straight toward Miinan. A voice shouted, ¡°Miinan, where are you?¡±


    The bear turned to the sound, and headed in the opposite direction. Ajijaak¡¯s eyes shot back to the water. Miinan had turned to the voice. Her face was pale with fright. An old woman appeared followed by a dancing little girl. The little girl was swirling around and on her face was the look of triumph. Her big sister had just been caught and would be in trouble, what could be more delightful than that?


    The old woman was the girls¡¯ Noko (grandmother). She said, ¡°Miinan it is dangerous for you to be here. What if the Snake King sees you? Do you want that?¡± The old woman¡¯s eyes roamed around, testing the area for danger.


    Ajijaak stopped breathing. Noko was sensitive. She might feel his presence.


    Miinan blue black eyes held fear. She said, ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Yes you do, you would not come here if you did not. What if the Snake King tricks you?¡±


    Miinan¡¯s sister, Ziibi¡¯s shivered. She said, ¡°He would not trick me. I would kill him.¡±


    The old woman¡¯s eyes swung to her youngest granddaughter. ¡°What if he hears your challenge, what if he seeks you out?¡±


    Ziibi raised her small chin. With a quick thrust of her hand she stabbed the air. ¡°I would cut him in two.¡±


    ¡°What did I do to deserve you two? Why can you not be like other girls and mind your noko?¡± The girls were not bad, just spirited like their grandmother had been when she was young, like she still was even in her old age. Noko continued, ¡°You are wicked girls.¡±


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    Ajijaak could tell by the determination of her jaw that Ziibi was not affected by her grandmother¡¯s warning. The stubborn little girl was resolved to kill the Snake King one day. Nothing anyone could tell her would sway her from this desire except her own forgetfulness. Miinan was affected by her grandmother¡¯s words. Her large eyes filled with tears. Ajijaak did not like it when Noko made Miinan cry. If he could speak he would defend her, but any intervention on his part would only make Noko angrier and make things worse for Miinan.


    Noko continued, ¡°Ambe, now. It is getting late.¡±


    Miinan nodded and followed Noko and her sister back to the village. Despite her tears, despite her desire to obey her grandmother, Ajijaak knew Miinan would come to this place again. It was here that she met with Giizhig-ikwe, Sky Woman. Here Giizhig-ikwe showed her full face. She called to Miinan, and she called to Ajijaak. It was a call that neither could refuse. Before many days had passed, Miinan would slip away again and she would dance with the sun, the water and the wind and he would watch.


    On silent feet he moved through the trees. Sunlight and shadow played across him as he ran. He heard the beat of his heart in his chest. He felt the sweat begin to form on his young body. He darted through the birch trees and traveled along the river that led to their village. Houses stood in small clusters pushed back among the trees. The air was pungent with smoke from fires. Women stood over birch bark pots stirring with wooden spoons. Ajijaak slowed his pace. He slipped noiselessly through the loosened birch bark panel of his house. No one was inside. He went to the door flap, and waited.


    The hobbling form of Noko swung up the path. Ziibi danced around the old woman playing her reed flute. Miinan¡¯s eyes were on the ground. She did not seem to see or hear anything that was around her. They passed by Ajijaak¡¯s house. Miinan¡¯s shy bright eyes darted to the tent flap. Ajijaak, raised his fingertips to her. She smiled at him. The smile brought him warmth and hope.


    Noko saw him. She jerked Miinan¡¯s arm hard. The old woman hissed, ¡°Do not be to friendly with him. They will talk.¡± The women at their pots seemed not to have noticed anything, but Ajijaak knew they had heard her. Anger and shame filled him. He stepped away from the door flap and hid in the shadows. With a charred stick he drew pictures on the earth floor. It was the story of the life he wanted to live and not the one he had.


    Nika, his mother came into the house. She saw him hunched over his drawing. He knew she would not disturb him. He also knew she had heard what Miinan¡¯s noko had said. With angry hands he pushed the stick deep into the earth and slashed through his drawings. He leapt to his feet and rubbed out the images with a swipe of his foot. He waited for his mother¡¯s rebuke.


    In a soft voice she said, ¡°You have a destiny my son, a life that will be lived, accept what life brings to you. Soon you will go out alone, and you will meet your visions. Are you ready for that day?¡±


    Was he? Though he nodded he did not know if he was. What if his vision led him away from Miinan? What if the spirits chose another for him, or chose no one at all? What would he do then? He had another fear. What if the spirits spoke to him of his father? His father who had abused his gifts and died in shame. He had played with the spirits, he had mocked them. Would they take their revenge on Baswewe¡¯s son? Would he bear even more of the bad his father had left him? There were strange images in Ajijaak¡¯s dreams, dreams he could not speak of, because it was not their way. Dreams were private and must not be shared. In his dreams were fire and people screaming, someone screaming the death scream. Who had it been? What had happened? No one told him, and though he had tried often through signs and signals his mother, nor his noko would tell him anything. They had buried the past with his father, only he did not know where his father¡¯s grave was. So great had been his shame, that he was not honored in any way when he died. As Baswewe¡¯s son he would never be fit for Miinan, at least not in her father¡¯s eyes. This was the hard truth he must face, but for reason¡¯s he could not understand he hoped she would run away with him. If she loved him she might. Did she love him? Could he find a way to make her love him? If she did run away who would hunt for his Noko and his mother? It was hopeless and yet, hope still trembled within him.

 Chapter 2. The Dance

    Standing just outside the doorflap, Ziibi listened as Noko continued to scold Miinan. ¡°I try to keep you from harm, but you wander off alone, and you flirt with a boy who can not speak.¡±


    ¡°I was not flirting.¡±


    ¡°Yes you were. If your father hears of this Ajijaak will suffer and so will you.¡±


    Miinan remained silent.


    Ziibi knew Noko felt some sympathy for Ajijaak, but not enough to encourage his friendship with her granddaughters. She also knew that when Miinan went out alone, she made sure Ajijaak saw her leave. It was cruel ofMiinan to do this and that is why Ziibi had told on her. Told on her was not accurate. What she had done was ask Noko, ¡°Where did you send Miinan?¡±


    Noko¡¯s eyes had narrowed. ¡°She is not with you?¡±


    Innocently she had shaken her head.


    Noko had taken the pot off the fire, and placed it on the ground. ¡°It is a fine day. I know where your sister has gone to.¡±


    Though not invited Ziibi had followed Noko to the Great Sea. Though she could not see Ajijaak behind the cedar, she felt his presence. She had an awareness of all creatures with beating hearts. If a deer was close by, she could sense it before she saw it. If a beaver was swimming under water she would know it. Even the smallest squirrel or bird did not escape her attention. She had known a bear was near when they went up the path. When she saw her sister, she had felt the beat of Ajijaak¡¯s heart keeping time with Miinan¡¯s. He believed he could keep Miinan safe from harm. He could not. He hoped to win her love. He would not.


    Noko expression changed as she caressed Miinan¡¯s cheek. ¡°Too soon you will be a woman.If you keep wandering off one of our enemies might kidnap you and make you his partner.Do you want that?¡±


    ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Then do as I say.¡±


    In the shadow of the door flap, Ziibi awaited her sister¡¯s reply.


    Noko shouted at the silent Miinan, ¡°You will do as I say!¡±


    Miinan nodded. Her face registered instant grief. Ziibi knew why. Now Miinan must keep her word, though she had not spoken it, she had promised in gesture and it was just as binding. Lying was a grievous sin, and one that should always be avoided. What would Miinan do, now that she could not longer visit her favorite spirit? What would Ajijaak do? Ziibi had done this, but she was not sorry. It was bad of Miinan to do what she did. She was hurting Ajijaak, and it must stop. His heart would heal in time. At least Ziibi hoped it would.


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    Smudge fires of damp moss and bark, kept the insects away. A large fragrant fire of cedar burned. Around it sat the most revered of their people. Bibigwan lifted his reed flute to his lips while Jishigwan rattled his gourds. A young man stood, it was Ajijaak. On his deerskin pants were sewn little rows of small shells. The shells clattered together like water falling against stones. The drum remained silent; this was a dance for entertainment not ceremony.The rattle of the gourd shivered inside of Ziibi. Her body began to softly sway as she watched Ajijaak. She saw him glance at her sister. His eyes were wide and bright. He looked away from her and stretched his fingertips to the night sky. One bare foot and then the other counted time, even his toes kept time. The shells on pants began to rattle like dead leaves on a tree. Their shiny surface caught wavering firelight. Ajijaak was a skilled dancer. He could tell the old tales with his body, the way the old women told stories with their tongues. He began to dance the story of Giizhig-ikwe, Sky Woman. This dance was for Miinan. Ziibi looked at her father beside the fire, he was among revered ones. His eyes focused on Ajijaak. She saw his jaw tighten. It was not a good sign. Fear thrummed in Ziibi¡¯s heart. She turned her eyes back to the dance.


    Ajijaak stretched out his long brown arms. He rippled his bare chest muscles like the ripples of the Great Sea. The flex and movement entranced Ziibi. She did not know how he did this. His slender body moved in the rhythm of waves. She could almost hear them crash against the shore. He mimicked the small creatures. He fluffed his tail like the squirrel, dug like a mole and hopped like a rabbit. He began to tremble as the gourd made the sound of the rain. Spiraling, he danced around the fire. The water rose higher and higher. It was about to choke him. Abruptly he stopped. He rose to his full height, bowed his arms over his stomach, he was Giizhig-ikwe, heavy with child. She was tired and had no place to rest because the earth was covered with water. Ajijaak, dropped his arms, and swam like the Giant Turtle. He stopped and became the pregnant woman again. How he waddled as he climbed onto the turtle¡¯s back. With one hand he called out silently for Aki to rebuild the world destroyed by flood. He became the muskrat and swam down through the deep waters to the earth. He scooped out a paw full mud and swam quickly to the surface. Panting he gave the soil to the Sky. Giizhig-ikwe spread it around the edge of a turtles back.And then, she performed her greatest act; she breathed life and growth into the wet earth. She was the symbol of nurturing, life bringing woman. With his fingers Ajijaak created small shoots of plants rising from the mud. He spread his arms and danced in an every widening circle as the earth grew and grew on the old turtle¡¯s back. He did not look at Miinan, but everyone knew he was dancing for her.


    Fearfully Ziibi glanced at her father. His face was a still as stone. His eyes flashed with fire and anger. Had someone told him about Miinan flirting with Ajijaak? Had he finally divined that she let the mute boy follow her where ever she went? Her father knew many things. Ziibi did not want him to direct any ill will toward Ajijaak, his mother or his noko. In her mind Ziibi pleaded with Ajijaak to stop his dancing. Her thoughts reached out to him. His eyes lit on her. He read her face and danced out of the circle of light.


    To Miinan she said softly, ¡°He danced for you.¡±


    ¡°He did not. He just likes that story.¡±


    ¡°He likes that story because of you.¡±


    ¡°Ziibi, stop it.¡±


    Aggravated by her sister¡¯s insensitivity she said, ¡°I wish he watched me the way he watches you.¡±


    Miinan turned to her small sister. She frowned at her. ¡°You are too young for such thoughts. Ajijaak is just my friend. He knows that. I have done nothing to encourage him.¡±


    ¡°You have done nothing? You invite him to follow you all the time with your eyes. I see it.¡±


    A strange smile spread over Miinan¡¯s face.


    Angrily, Ziibi said, ¡°I would capture his heart if he would let me.¡± She clapped her hand over her mouth. She had not meant to say that. It was her secret. It was bad to tell one¡¯s secrets to anyone, even her sister. She saw laughter catch in Miinan¡¯s throat. She coughed to suppress it. She said, ¡°What you must watch is your tongue, little sister. Noko might hear you. Do you want to be scolded tonight?¡±


    She did not care. Still angry she said,¡°Noko enjoys scolding me that is why I give her so many chances to do it. It is her gift and I was born to help her grow it.¡±


    ¡°What if Father hears you?¡±


    Father. The relationship was not a good one. ¡°Father does not listen to me, so I do not have to worry.¡±She rose from her place and slipped beyond the light of the fire.

 Chapter 3. Dreams

    Out of breath, Ajijaak panted in the shelter of the birch trees. He felt triumphant. He knew he had finally communicated his feelings for Miinan to her, what was more, he was certain, that she had understood the communication. Many times he had tried to tell her, but she never understood. Tonight, finally at long last she knew. She knew! Would it make any difference, he could only pray so. He raised his eyes in prayer. Stars peeked through the whispering birch leaves. Soon the moon would rise. When it did he would creep to where ever Miinan was and gaze upon her. Her skin so lustrous in sunlight was supernatural in moonlight. How he ached for her. He wished she had followed him.


    There was the sound of small feet running. Much to his dismay he saw that it was Ziibi. Little pest. He knew the child had a crush on him and it was very annoying. How was it that he attracted the wrong sister yet again?


    Ziibi stopped before him. She lifted her small pointed chin up. With eyes that flashed light even in darkness, she looked at him hard. ¡°You must not do that again. Father understood, though Miinan did not. Do not risk my father¡¯s anger for my sister. She will never disobey our father. She does not have the courage.¡± The child paused, she dropped her eyes and whispered, ¡°I have the courage, and one day you will not see me as pest, you will see me as the one who will walk the path of life with you. No one will stop me. I am strong enough to be your woman.¡±


    The fierceness of her words was comical, but Ajijaak did not even smile. He respected this sprite. He also knew what it felt like to be ridiculed and rejected. Gently he patted her head. Tears splashed down her cheeks. She whispered, ¡°I hear not just the beat of your heart, I hear what your heart says. You do not believe me. It does not matter, I believe me, and for now that is enough.¡± She turned from him.


    He watched her run to her house and crawl through the door flap. His sensitive ears could hear her soft whimpering. He had not meant to hurt her, but he had. Poor Ziibi, she was just as odd as he was. Her way would not be easy. She must learn to control her tongue and not speak so freely. If only she would listen to her noko. He had to smile. He did not listen very well either when his nook¡¯s words went against what he wanted. Still he listened. As for Ziibi, she listened to no one but the spirit who guided her. This spirit frightened Ajijaak. He was not sure it was a good spirit, or a proper one. The spirit she had should have gone to a boy not a girl, and yet it had chosen Ziibi.


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    Mikinaak¡¯s voice broke into his thoughts. Mikinaak was Miinan and Ziibi¡¯s father. Ajijaak turned to face the older man. He stood as tall and as straight as he could. He braced himself, he knew he was about to be rebuked.


    Strangely, Mikinaak¡¯s voice was calm with no trace of anger.. He said, ¡°I fear I have neglected you. Your uncle reminded me that it is time for you to go off alone to dream your dreams. You have a path, that you must follow and it is time for you to go.¡± Mikinaak smiled on him. His white teeth gleamed in the moonlight. No, his smile was not a benevolent smile. He wanted to get rid of Ajijaak. He wanted him away from his eldest daughter. One never knew how long it would take to receive a vision. Some had died searching. If he died, Mikinaak would not be sorry, he would be grateful. He did not want his daughter nor his family tied to the village outcast. Still, Ajijaak was not deterred. He was strong and did not fear death. He had long practiced fasting and the art of aloneness. He would receive his vision, and he knew what it would be. He had decided.


    Mikinaak¡¯s smile left his face yet his voice and demeanor retained their calm as he said, ¡°Tomorrow your Uncle Ogaa will take you to the place of dreams.¡±


    There was nothing for Ajijaak to do, but nod his ascent. Excitement tingled through him. A man, he would soon be a man, who could claim his woman.


    Mikinaak¡¯s voice dropped low, he said, ¡°Ajijaak, you are a good son to your mother, and you look well after your noko. The spirits will be kind to you I think. You must not fear what has gone before. Accept what is yours, do not let the past stain you.¡±


    Again he nodded, confused by this kind statement. He had expected rebuke and received a blessing. Mikinaak patted Ajijaak¡¯s shoulder and returned to the fire.


    Excited, Ajijaak took off at a run toward his home. He ran right into Miinan. Her soft arms were suddenly around him. Her face so close. She pulled away from him and laughed. ¡°You need to watch were you are going.¡±


    He grinned at her. His entire body was lit with the fire of her touch. She did not say more to him, but bowed and continued to her own house. His sensitive hearing caught the sound of a door flap opening. He looked at Miinan¡¯s home. The door flap was pulled aside. In the darkness, he saw two bright eyes staring at him. Ziibi. She had seen the whole thing. When she realized that he saw her, she closed the flap. His gaze returned to Miinan. The moonlight fell on her beautiful hair. He longed to run his fingers through it. Miinan¡¯s walk, was like water flowing. Her hips were beginning to form. They would be wide like her mother¡¯s. She would bear healthy children. If only they could be his children. His eyes followed her until she reached the house and closed the door flap behind her.

 Chapter 4. The Place to Dream

    The sun revealed her bright face. Ajijaak stood nervously waiting for his Uncle Ogaa and Mikinaak. A crowd of boys and young men had heard that he was to begin his quest this morning and they had risen early to watch. Ajijaak had few friends. His family curse and his lack of speech excluded him from the jesting of other boys. It did not matter. His journey was about to begin. He would discover his worth and his mission in life, no not discover. He already knew what his mission was; his vision would only confirm it. He stood with his arms held out, as Mikinaak applied the gray ashes to his arms, legs and face. From Mikinaak¡¯s hands flowed the power of this man, power of physical strength and power of medicine. How he wanted to be just like Mikinaak. It was Mikinaak who had long ago named him Ajijaak, after the crane. A crane was a revered creature. His naming had come before the shame of his father and the curse that followed. Still, Ajijaak wanted to bring honor to the name he had been given. He wanted to prove that Mikinaak had chosen wisely when he had named him after the whooping crane.


    There was the usual muttering of people behind him. He kept his keen ears dulled. He did not want to hear any snide remarks or teasing. This was a holy moment in his life. When he finished applying the ash Mikinaak said, ¡°Once all was dark and lightless. Nothing could be seen. In this darkness Gichi-manidoo slept. He breathed in and out. He dreamed. From his dreams came points of light. Light that shot through the darkness. Light that illumined all that once could not be seen. When he woke from his sleep, he saw a great light and a lesser light, the sun and the moon. In this light he saw Nimaamaa Aki for the first time. She was barren and waiting to be blessed with life. Gichi-manidoo had nothing to make life from, so he created land, and rock from this nothing. From nothing he made water. He made our brothers and sisters the plants and the flowers. He breathed into them the spirit of life. Next he made the small-legged creatures and those of the air and water. When he had finished with them, he fashioned his final creation, man. Man was last because he lacked the constancy of rock, the rejuvenation and power of water, the independence and beauty of plants, and the variety and humility of creatures. But to man, he gave the power, he possessed. He gave man the power to dream. May your dreams be blessed.¡±


    Ajijaak nodded his thanks. It was time to go, time to face himself. As he made his way to the stream he saw Miinan. Her smile was bright and wide. She did not wave to him, but by the way she looked at him, he was certain her feelings toward him were growing. If he could have whooped his joy, he would have, but he could not so he contained himself and stepped into the canoe. His Uncle Ogaa had not spoken to him, and would not speak to him. They would make this journey in silence. The birch bark canoe glided noiselessly through the water. From behind one of the pines stood Ziibi. Her dark eyes held him in their strange light. She seemed to be offering him some of her strength. He did not need the strength of a little girl. He turned from her without a smile or a gesture. He knew that he had offended her. She was only a meddling child. How dare she suggest he might need her!


    The place to dream was a half days journey away. Up stream they traveled. The water was filled with the bright bodies of fish. The air sounded with the songs of birds. The forest slipped passed them as they paddled up river. When they reached a large spruce with long dark arms, they stopped and pulled their canoe beside it.Ajijaak took his birch bark bucket, the only thing he had brought with him and scooped up a pail of water. It was all that he would have to drink for the next four days. Just water, no food.


    The sun reached its zenith. They broke through the thick spruce into a tall ring of pines that enclosed an empty space. In this space was nothing but short grass. The little dwellers maintained this place. Ajijaak wondered if he would see any of these shy creatures while he waited to receive his vision. He put his bucket down and he and his uncle went to the center of the circle. His uncle offered tobacco to the unseen spirits. Ajijaak could feel their presence and for the first time he felt fear.


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    In a soft voice Uncle Ogaa said, ¡°We ask your forgiveness. Forgive my nephew. I have brought him to this place, your place that he might receive his vision that he might know what path he is to walk in his life. I ask you show kindness to him and reveal to him his dream.¡±


    Ajijaak looked up into the face of Giizhig-ikwe. Miinan would like this place, but girls were not allowed here. His uncle said, ¡°Ambe, let us build your shelter.¡±


    With their sharp bone knifes they cut cedar limbs and made a small lean to. This would house Ajijaak for the next four days. It offered very little protection from the elements and no protection at all from animals. His uncle set his bucket of water beside the lean to, and then he left. For a long time Ajijaak listened to the step of his uncle until he heard his step no more. He was completely alone. When he practiced his vision quest it had always been within quick running distance of home. He was far from home, so far, and he did not know how to get back home, even if he tried. He had not paid as much attention to the trail as he should have. He had been too excited. Stop this, he scolded himself. He would not run back home like some infant. He would meet his destiny like a man.


    Ajijaak¡¯s resolve maintained him through the rest of that long first day. He knew the pains of hunger that were beginning to trouble him. He would not succumb to their gnawing. He was not afraid. Fear waited for him though. It waited until the night sounds came. It waited until the light was gone and the moon did not shine. Heavy clouds covered the sky blocking all light and all comfort. Sweat formed on his lip. Dark shadows deeper than the darkness around him moved. A cold sweat broke over his entire body. His mind began to race. There was something in the darkness, something that was waiting for him. His throat became dry. His mind began to churn with old voices that ate at his self worth. He did not want to hear the taunts of the other children, but he did. ¡°No tongue Ajijaak.¡± ¡°Can you say a word?¡± ¡°Growl for us dumb boy. GROWL!¡± A growl was all he could manage. The shame that always haunted him came to him now. What sort of vision was a boy like him given? He had been arrogant to think he would not be afraid, arrogant to think some great quest awaited him. Despair mingled with his fear. What if no dream came? What if he never dreamed? He would dream, he must dream! He pushed the negative thoughts away from him. He must think. He must remember all that was good and right inside of him. Yes, he had limitations, everyone lacked something, his was just more obvious.


    From the outer circle of trees a sleek large male wolf appeared. His eyes held Ajijaak. His gaze was intense. Somewhere he had pups and a mate that must be fed. Ajijaak remained still. Wolves were great hunters. They knew how to carefully select their game. They kept the animals strong by claiming the weak within the herd. Ajijaak knew that in the tribe of man, he would be seen as lacking. Still he was physically strong. He would not be a meal. Remaining completely still, he kept his eyes locked on the wolf. For an eternity they seemed to stare at each other, then all at once, the wolf turned and trotted back into the forest.


    It was awhile before Ajijaak began to breath normally again, and longer still before he stretched himself out to try and sleep. When sleep did come it was shallow and dreamless.


    Vocabulary:


    Ajijak Sandhill Crane


    Ambe Let¡¯s go!


    Baswewe It Echos


    Bibigwan Flute


    Gichi-manidoo Great Spirit


    Giizhig Sky


    Mide member of Midewiwin (Grand Medicine Society)


    Miinan Blueberries


    Mikinaak Snapping turtle


    Mikwam Ice


    Nimaamaa My mother


    Noko Grandmother


    Ogaa walleye pike


    Wiindingoog evil man eating spirit


    Ziibi River

 Chapter 5. Final Day

    Gihzig-ikwe¡¯s face was bright when he awoke the next morning.His fears from the night before vanished with the light. He had new resolve. A good dream would come to him in this place he could feel it. As he stared at the white face of Father Sun his first thought was of Miinan. He saw her face turned to the sky. He saw her soft lips parted in greeting to the day. In his heart he heard her singing her morning songs as she did her work. He did not see what was around him. The hawk that watched him from the pine branch did not receive his notice. The rabbit that watched from her hutch went unseen. He had come to this place to enter into solitude and union with Nimaamaa Aki. His distraction, his day dreams kept him from doing so. The whole forest knew he could not receive a dream. If he would have listened, the wind would have told him. The low flight of the hawk shouted warning, but he did not hear. All he saw and heard were the daydreams he had chosen for himself.


    Time slowly. His hunger increased and then dulled. He dipped his hand in the bucket of water and pulled the liquid through his dry lips. It did not quench his great thirst, it only hurt his empty stomach. He began to feel a little light headed and sleepy. In order to keep himself awake he wandered around the glade. HDragonflies swooped around him, bees hummed and small crickets jumped. He saw these creatures but he did not feel any connection to them. Each instead served as a reminder of a time he had either spent with Miinan or watched her unobserved. From the shelter of a pine, he had seen her scoop honey out of a great dead birch with her noko. It had dripped down her beautiful chin and he had wanted to taste it. One evening he had seen her kneeling beside the wildflowers, absorbed by the song of crickets. How she loved the song of the crickets. Once he told her that, Dragonflies were almost feathered creatures. She longed for sweetness, song and freedom. He hoped to give her all those things.


    When darkness began to fall again, his fear and self-loathing returned. His courage seemed tied to the light and without it, he felt lost. Gihizig-ikwe¡¯s put on her nighttime face. The stars began to appear. At least there were stars tonight to keep him company. Up among the stars were the spirits, spirits that Ajijaak needed to make contact with. He went to his shelter and lay down on the fragrant cedar boughs. He watched the stars move across the surface of the night sky. He dropped into a misty world where nothing was distinct.


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    The next morning he felt weak and dull. A strange buzz sounded was in his head. He did not want to walk around the glade. He lay still, and only moved to drink a little water. The strength of his body carried him. A day of fasting did not slow him down. He decided to work on another dance for Miinan. All day he thought about her smile, her warmth and the unexpected embrace they had shared a few nights ago.


    By nightfall he was tired, and satisfied with the dance he had created. He could not wait to share it with Miinan. That night he fell asleep happy. He was sure his dream would come that night.


    On the third day he awoke without a dream. The lack of food and adequate liquid began to take their toll on him. He had no will to dance or day dream. He was worried. He only had two more nights to dream. What if it never came?


    For the first time he lost complete confidence in himself even in the light of day. By nightfall, he felt ill and certain of his own failure. All the old voices taunted him. Beyond his memories, came other voices that said, ¡°You are arrogant, just like your father. You do not deserve a dream or a destiny. You will wander through your life alone and desolate.¡± With all his mental strength he tried to fight these voices, but they were stronger than his will. That night he slipped in and out of consciousness. Indistinct images darted across his feverish mind, but they were unclear and held no meaning.


    On the fourth day, he awoke again without a dream. Inner darkness covered him. He knew he would not dream. He knew he had failed. The next day his uncle returned. Ajijaak sat propped up in the shelter. His eyes were glazed over and his body stiff. He had not slept and he had not dreamed.


    Uncle Ogaa gave him a pouch that contained dried meat and corn. Hungrily Ajijaak ate. The meat was sweetened with maple sugar and the corn was crunchy. He drank long and deep from the fresh water his uncle had brought him. His hunger left him and he was full. Uncle Ogaa did not ask him if he had dreamed, no one ever asked that question. It was up to him to say, ¡°I think I had a dream.¡± He could not speak, so he was spared the embarrassment of saying out loud he had failed to have a vision. It was the first time in his life his silence served him. Though heart broken and ashamed, he held his head high and walked behind his uncle to the canoe.


    Too soon they neared the village. Hiding along the bank, waiting for his return was Ziibi. She ducked out of sight, the instant he saw her.

 Chapter 6. Mikwam, the Guardian

    Mikwam growled low in his throat. Ziibi looked in the direction her wolf was gazing. Ajijaak had returned. The birch bark canoe slid noiselessly through the water, barely making a ripple upon the surface of the river. The young man saw her, and Ziibi ducked behind the tree. Mikwam shook his coat and stared at her with his pale yellow eyes. His ears rotated toward the sound of the paddles upon the water. He whined. He was concerned, and Ziibi knew why. Ajijaak had failed in his vision quest. She knelt down beside her wolf and said, ¡°Please do not let him do further injury to himself.¡±


    The Mikwam shook his long coat. He was not Ajijaak¡¯s wolf and he would not interfere with his life. Ziibi laid her brown hand on his silver fur. It was soft to the touch.


    Noko called, ¡°Ziibi, where are you? You did not sweep the house.¡±


    Mikwam darted off into the woods. Ziibi sighed. She was not good at women¡¯s work.


    ¡°Ambe!¡± shouted Noko.


    Ziibi ran to the house, ducked inside before Noko could scold her and took up her balsam boom. With short quick movements she swept the loose debris off the hard packed dirt floor and then out the door flap. In the sun she sorted through debris. What ever she found she kept. There were a few loose grains of corn and three broken feathers. She would make a necklace of this.She took her treasures to where her sister sat beneath a slippery elm. The day was becoming warm. Miinan was sorting through her porcupine quills. She had little birch bark bowls filled with cut quills dyed different colors. With her thorn apple awl she was sewing them on a dress she had woven from false nettle. Weaving such fine fabric from her crude elm loom was an admired art. Ziibi knew some of the girls were very jealous of Miinan¡¯s skill. She was not jealous, she was proud of her sister.


    In the shade of the house, Noko separated long strips of the inner bark from the outer bark of the basswood tree. From this supple fiber she would make twine. Twine was one of the most important things a woman made. It bound every thing from houses to the bodies of the dead. It was an important skill and one that Ziibi¡¯s young fingers struggled with, fortunately, this morning, Noko did not ask her to help her make twine. So Ziibi sat cross-legged on a basswood mat and spread out her find.


    The bright yellow of the corn contrasted nicely with the spotted jay feathers. With an awl she had made from the thighbone of a muskrat, she carefully drilled holes through the kernels and then she pierced each feather. Last she took a bit of false nettle thread and strung her necklace together. When Miinan saw it she said, ¡°It is the color of the sky.¡±


    Always the sky with her. To Ziibi it was the color of Mikwam¡¯s yellow wolf eyes and bluish silver fur, but she did not say this.


    When Noko went to fetch more strips of basswood, Miinan whispered, ¡°Has he come back?¡±


    Ziibi hissed, ¡°Why do you want to know?¡±


    Miinan smiled her superior smile at her. ¡°So he is back.¡±


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    She nodded.


    ¡°How did he look?¡±


    This was a question Ziibi would not answer.


    The smile left Miinan¡¯s lips. ¡°Was he alright?¡±


    He was not, but Ziibi would not tell her sister this. Her sister might feel compelled to check on Ajijaak, and he would be humiliated in her presence. A simple yes would keep this from happening, but Ziibi would not lie. Lies brought bad medicine and a daughter of the Mide was especially susceptible if they practiced lies. She did not know what to do or say. In her confusion she communicated more to her sister than she intended.


    Miinan frowned. Ziibi was instantly aware; her sister was already plotting some mission of mercy. Well, she would not perform it, at least not before Ziibi performed hers. She snatched up her necklace and went to Ajijaak¡¯s home. She knew where the loose birch bark was that Ajijaak used to go in and out out the back of his home. He seldom used the front door flap. Noiselessly Ziibi slipped through the secret entrance. She saw Ajijaak was lying on his furs. His eyes were closed. By the slow in take and out take of breath, Ziibi knew he was sleeping. He did not know she was there, but his noko did. Her blind eyes held Ziibi in their unseeing gaze. She had lost her sight shortly after Ajijaak¡¯s voice had been stolen. Where had Ajijaak¡¯s voice gone and who had taken his noko¡¯s sight? The old woman sniffed the air. In her mouth was a folded wad of thin birch bark. She was a bark biter. She raised her hand to halt Ziibi¡¯s flight. Her strong teeth rounded the bark. Her teeth were stained and sharp. They bruised the birch bark to make designs of flowers and birds. Her chewing fascinated Ziibi. Barkbiters had a special kind of magic. They held patterns in their heads and their teeth magically made the pattern on the bark. Ziibi did not know how they did it.


    Ajijaak¡¯s noko took the bark out of her mouth. In a low voice she said, ¡°Ambe.¡±


    Ziibi crept to her side. The old woman carefully unfolded the thin birch bark revealing the picture of a crane standing in a river with rice stalks on either side. This woman was famous for her bark biting and not even the bad reputation of her dead son had diminished her fame. She offered the transparency to Ziibi. This was a tremendous gift, one that Ziibi had not even hoped to possess.


    This noko said, ¡°Be careful my girl. You are too quick to act. You must think before you begin. A start too soon is a false start and can bring harm. Keep this as a remembrance to check your haste.¡±


    ¡°Thank you Noko.¡±


    ¡°Now go child.¡±


    Before she left she placed the necklace she had meant to give to Ajijaak in his grandmother¡¯s hands. The older woman fingered the kernels and the feathers. She pointed in Ajijaak¡¯s direction and said, ¡°When he is restored I will give this to my grandson. But you must not come through his secret door again. The others will talk, and you will do him much harm.¡±


    ¡°I will obey.¡±


    ¡°Good girl. Now off with you.¡±


    Ziibi hesitated. Which exit did the old woman want her to use.


    Ajijaak¡¯s noko said, ¡°Out the back, for the last time.¡±


    Ziibi slipped outside. She walked a little way out into the trees to be alone, but not too far. It was dangerous to go to far when Mikwam was not with her. She held her birch bark transparency up to the sun. The bite marks would grow darker with time and the pattern would become more distinct. It was beautiful. She pulled it gently to her chest and hugged it. Mother would not be pleased by this gift and neither would her father, but they would not know, she would take it to her secret place.


    Her secret place was in a hollowed out white cedar. It was just big enough for her to fit inside. It was here in a clay box that she kept her treasures. She had a lock of Ajijaak¡¯s hair, that she had stolen one night while he slept. She wondered if his Noko knew about this. There were also shells she had found on the beach, butterfly wings and feathers of different birds. She called them her beautiful things. With careful fingers she laid her birch bark transparency on the pile. This was more than just a picture, it was a prophecy. She did not know what it meant but she was sure it had been no accident that a design that represented a crane and a river should have come into the noko¡¯s mind. Ajijaak was the crane and Ziibi was the river. Her name meant river. She had been given this name by her father at her naming ceremony.


    In the distance she heard Noko calling out for her again. ¡°Ziibi Ambe, it is time to roast the fish.¡±


    With one finger Ziibi traced the figure of the crane. How could she soothe Ajijaak¡¯s wounded pride? Did she have the power to do so? If she did not, what then? What would happen to him if he never dreamed? With this dark thought she placed a carved birch bark lid over the mouth of her clay pot.


    ¡°Ziibi! Now!¡±


    ¡°Coming Noko!¡±

 Chapter 7. Night Journey

    In the land of dreams a cold nose nudged Ziibi¡¯s shoulder. The second nudge forced her into wakefulness. Slowly she opened her eyes. She knew who it was, she could hear his breathing. Mikwam¡¯s yellow eyes glowed in the dark. Why had he wakened her? His head swung toward the door flap. Did he want her to go outside? He had never done so before. He knew she was not allowed to go out in the night. Also it was cold and Ziibi did not want to leave her soft warm pallet. Beside her Miinan slept. If Ziibi tried to leave she might wake her sister or her parents, and that would be bad. Mikwam nudged Ziibi again with more force. His eyes seemed to spark like embers. She whispered, ¡°No. You know I can¡¯t.¡± Mikwam whined in his throat. It was a specific whine. He only used it when something was required of her, something important. Though very young and inexperienced in the habits of mystery, Ziibi had learned to trust Mikwam. He would not ask her to do anything that would endanger her. She slipped from beneath her deerskin blanket and placed her feet in her soft worn moccasins. Miinan mumbled in her sleep but she did not awaken. From beneath her pallet Ziibi took her sheathed bone knife. She had made the bearskin sheath and shaped the blade herself. The blade was sharp and it could kill. She tucked it in her belt. On silent feet she followed Mikwam into the night.


    Outside it was cold enough for her breath to turn to smoke. She should have brought her blanket. It was so dark she could barely see. Ziibi feared the dark. It hid things. It hid dangerous things. The small people might be out, might be watching her right now, waiting to kidnap her. At least this is what her Noko had lead her to believe. Noko knew many scary things about the night and she never hesitated to share stories about them. At least it was not winter. In winter the people eaters, the * Wiindingoog, roamed. According to Noko, little girl was their favorite delicacy. Very tender and very sweet. All at once Ziibi did not want to go with Mikwam. It was dangerous and wrong. To do go with Mikwam would mean disobeying not only Noko, but also her father. Her father when angry was almost as frightening as the Wiindingoog. For an instant she hesitated. Mikwam ran around behind her and pushed her hard with his head. He wanted her to go. He meant for her to go. Never since he had first appeared to her on the eve of her fourth summer had she disobeyed his guidance, but never had he asked her to defy the rules of her home. Why would he do so now? She turned to the wolf and looked deeply into his golden eyes. Was he her Mikwam, or some evil guide pretending to be hers? His eyes held hers in their steady gaze. The fear in Ziibi began to melt. This was her Mikwam, he would not let harm come to her. He nodded to her and ran toward the river. Ziibi grasping the hilt of her knife ran after him.


    They traveled along the river trail. Dimly, she could see the pale barked birches. Their trunks lined the path casting long shadows. All around her shining eyes watched her, she could feel them. Fear drummed inside of her. Fear so great, she was certain those who watched her could hear the echo of her beating heart. The sound of small voices was carried by the wind. The voices weren¡¯t human. The small people were watching her as well. From the sky a a large dark form swooped down. She heard the sound of wings. She turned and looked up. It was Great Horned Owl. His huge eyes glistened with knowing. His great talons caught the light of the stars. He was going for a kill, he did not pay any heed to Ziibi.


    Through the trunks of the birch trees, she saw a pale glow. The sound of waves whispered quietly. They were almost to the Great Sea. She had never come this far without her father. She should not have come now. The birch and pines thinned out as she neared the sea. Along the horizon the half face of Grandmother Moon appeared. Her silver light reached out to Ziibi and calmed her. Grandmother Moon was watching over her she would keep her safe. Mikwam continued his dash toward the sea.


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    The sound of something being tossed caused Ziibi to stop. There was a splash, and then she heard something being dragged through the water. The sound was repeated. Someone was casting a net. Young men often went night fishing. Were the young men, good or bad? Mikwam disappeared over some rocks. Ziibi remained where she was listening. There was another soft splash. It sounded like there was only one person fishing. Silently she crept up the trail. Mikwam waited for her beside the Big Rock. The face of Grandmother Moon lit the sea with wavering light. Onshore she saw a familiar silhouette. It was Ajijaak. Still and beautiful he stood in the silvered waters of the Great Sea. Ziibi smiled at the moon. Her prayer to speak with Ajijaak had been answered.


    Unsure of how to approach him and afraid of his wrath. Her young heart wanted to chase all his troubles and all his sadness away. He looked lonely. She wanted to join him, but she knew he would not welcome her presence. If anyone saw them together it would be bad for her and worse for him. She crouched down beside the rock and pulled her knees beneath her skirt. For a long while she watched him. To watch him for any period of time was rare. Seldom was he in her or any one¡¯s presence for long. The only time he joined village social life was when he danced. Though he kept all things unto himself, he could not keep his dance to himself.


    Once again, Ajijaak brought his net up empty. His shoulder¡¯s slumped. This would not do. Low in her throat Ziibi began to sing the fishing chant. Though Ajijaak could not hear it, she knew the catfish would. Soon he brought his net in, not only did it contain several catfish, but also some crabs. A small grunt came from him. This was the sound her made when he was pleased. Ziibi watched him pull the fish and crabs from his net and dump


    them into his bucket. When he turned to cast his net again he stopped. It was too dark for Ziibi to see his expression, but she could tell by how his body stiffened, that he had seen her and he was not pleased with her presence. Frozen in place, she watched him gather his net and bucket. If he could scold her, he would but he could not. She wanted to run, but Mikwam had the hem of her deer skin skirt in his sharp teeth. A low growl rumbled in his chest telling her to stay.


    Vocabulary:


    Ajijak: Sandhill Crane


    Ambe: Let¡¯s go!


    Baswewe: It Echos


    Bibigwan: Flute


    Gichi-manidoo: Great Spirit


    Giizhig: Sky


    Mide: member of Midewiwin (Grand Medicine Society)


    Miinan: Blueberries


    Mikinaak: Snapping turtle


    Mikwam: Ice


    Nimaamaa: My mother


    Noko: Grandmother


    Ogaa : walleye pike


    *Wiindingoog: evil human eating spirit


    Ziibi: River

 Chapter 8. Night Spirits

    First, Ajijaak had felt eyes upon him, the eyes of a wolf. His heightened sense of smell had not registered wolf. He turned. The rising moon shone on a small form. Ziibi! How tiny she was, out here all alone. How had she come to be here? It was not safe. She stood very still, but he could see she was struggling to control her trembling body. Her eyes that reflected the moon, held a steady trusting light. She knew he would not hurt her. He put his net and bucket down. With the communal hand language he signed, ¡°Why are you here?¡±


    For some reason the little girl grasped the air at her side as if she were holding onto something. She looked down and nodded at some unseen entity. When she looked at Ajijaak, she cleared her throat. With face raised and eyes wide she licked her lips. Sudden fear grasped Ajijaak. The child had come for some purpose. If she thought something was important and needed to be communicated, she did not hold her tongue. Fear creeped through him. He waited for her answer, but she remained silent. Let her remain silent. He turned from her and picked up his net and bucket. His hope was that he would escort her home in silence. Before he could go to her, she came to him. Her small hand wrapped around his wrist. In it was the same power he had felt when her father, Mikinaak, had applied the ashes to his body before he had gone off to dream. Only, he had not dreamed.


    Quietly, Ziibi asked, ¡°Do you know why you did not dream?¡±


    He did not. In his desperation he shook his head.


    With eyes full of moonlight, Ziibi told him, ¡°You did not dream because your mind and heart are too full of my sister. You must set aside what your desire and seek what is required of you.¡±


    Though the words had been spoken by a child the voice within them was ancient. Ziibi did not look real in the light of Grandmother Moon. She looked more spirit than human. Was she right, was this why he had not dreamed?


    The small hand let go of his wrist. Ziibi muttered something, and headed back down the trail alone. Remembering himself, Ajijaak ran after her. It was not safe for her to be out alone. Though encumbered by his fishing gear he soon caught up with her. She grinned at him and scoffed, ¡°Ha, I let you catch me!¡± She darted away.


    How swift she was, even in the dark. Though he could not keep up with her, though he tried. She was so sure footed, not once did she stumble in the shadows, but he did several times. Ahead of her he thought he saw a sliver wolf running. It was only some weird reflection of the moon, at east this is what he told himself. Truth was, he could feel the presence of spirits wandering, dancing along beside the running child. When at last they reached the village, Ziibi glanced back at him. She stuck her tongue out at him and disappeared into her house.


    Ajijaak cast a wary eye around the sleeping village. At least Ziibi was now home safe. With catch in hand, he made his way home. Once there, it was too dark to gut the fish. He went to the old pine and grasped the loose rope that hung from a branch. He tied one end to the bucket strap, and then hoisted it high into the tree. It was cold enough to keep the fish fresh until morning when his mother would make a fine breakfast of his catch. He may not dream and he may not speak, but he was a good fisherman and an even better hunter. No matter what he would provide for his family, as long as he breathed his mother and his noko would not go hungry.


    *


    The next morning, Ajijaak overslept. When he woke he smelled the sweet aroma of roasting fish. His mother had made his favorite food. Catfish fillet¡¯s stuffed and rolled with maple sugar and mint leaves roasted on the fire. He pushed he robes off and went outside. His mother smiled at him, as did his Noko. She said, ¡°The fish is very good.¡±


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    He nodded his thanks and took the bark platter and the hot de-boned fish. The flesh was flaky and sweetened just right. He smiled lopsidedly as he stuffed his mouth. Crabs boiled in a pot on the fire. They would be made into his favorite soup. His mother was a skilled cook and particular about her dishes. His eyes wandered across the village and then he saw her. Her saw her long black braid shining white as it reflected the sun. He saw her shy eyes dart in his direction. He stopped chewing to watch and wait. Was she about to go to the Great Sea? She turned; no she was going to the river to gather reeds. Behind her Ziibi ran. She saw Ajijaak and once again stuck her tongue out him. Her expression was so comical he could not help himself he smiled at her. The smile she returned to him was as radiant as the sun. She skipped and grabbed her sister¡¯s hand. What he would do to hold her sister¡¯s hand. Ziibi¡¯s words from the night before echoed in his mind. ¡°You must seek what is required of you.¡± What was required of him? He felt his noko¡¯s unseeing eyes on him. He turned to her and waited for her to speak. She did not, she merely shook her head. He wondered what Noko saw behind her sightless eyes. How much did she sense? Did she know he did not dream, that his life was without vision?


    The rest of the day, Ajijaak pursued easy tasks. He carved sticks with the sharp knife he had fashioned from the rib bone of a moose. It sliced through the bark easily. The sticks whittled and notched would form the base to prop a large rock. On one stick he would lay dried berries. When a squirrel or rabbit came to eat them they would trip the sticks and the stone would fall on them killing them. This method, did no damage to the skin, and he would give it to his mother to make him a skin hat or a pouch depending on what he caught. As he worked a new idea came to him. What if he made a big trap? A trap so big he could catch one of the bears that lived in a den up river. To catch and kill a bear would make him a man in the eyes of the village. But he could not do it alone. He would need to form a hunting party. Who? His cousin and his uncle, would that be enough? They had a long canoe that could carry a bear. It was stout and held their entire family. Was now the time to trap a bear? He would have to ask his uncle. He set aside his tools and walked to his uncle¡¯s house. Uncle Ogaa was in his usual spot with back pressed against an oak tree repairing arrows. His uncle looked up at him with concerned eyes. Did he suspect he had not dreamed? He would not ask, he never would ask. Dreams were sacred and belonged only to the dreamed.


    With the supple movements of his hands, Ajijaak spoke in the communal language of signs. He pointed from his uncle to himself, felled and invisible tree with an invisible ax and made the sign for bear.


    Uncle Ogaa smiled. Perhaps he thought this was part of what what Ajijaak had dreamed. He said, ¡°Yes, we can do that. In a few suns. You are still recovering from your quest. When you are fully recovered, we will go. Now get back home and sharpen your spears.¡±


    Ajijaak bowed and smiled his thanks. He set off down the path toward home. He hoped for another glimpse of Miinan. Thought, he could not see her, he heard her voice as she sang at her work. The sweetness of it caused him to stop where he was and just listen.


    Ziibi came bursting out of the bush. Fiercely she said, ¡°You are slow of foot and slow of mind. Have you forgotten what I said already?¡± Her lips were stained with blueberry juice. Her teeth were purple as was her tongue. The sight of her caused laughter to tickle in his throat. He squelched the laughter because he knew it would make her mad. Still, his eyes shone with his amusement. Ziibi¡¯s tiny brown hands went to her narrow hips. She looked up at him and cocked her head. ¡°So you think I am funny?¡±


    He nodded. Against his better judgement, his laughter rolled out of him. It made a strange whistling sound deep in his throat. It rose high and loud. It was the only remnant of the speech he once possessed. The angry look on Ziibi¡¯s face dissolved into a smile. She said, ¡°Your laughter sounds like the song of the wind in the reeds. It is a happy sound.¡± Her bright eyes shone up at him, she seemed pleased with herself.


    Her noko¡¯s voice called, ¡°Ziibi, where are you?¡±


    Ziibi gave him one last smile and ran back to her noko.

 Chapter 9. Blueberries

    Still weary from his failed dream journey, Ajijaak overslept. When he woke he smelled the sweet aroma of roasting fish. His mother had made his favorite food. Catfish fillet¡¯s stuffed and rolled with maple sugar and mint leaves roasted on the fire. He pushed he robes off and went outside. His mother smiled at him, as did his Noko. She said, ¡°The fish is very good.¡±


    He nodded his thanks and took the bark platter and the hot de-boned fish. The flesh was flaky and sweetened just right. He smiled lopsidedly as he stuffed his mouth. Crabs boiled in a pot on the fire. They would be made into his favorite soup. His mother was a skilled cook and particular about her dishes. His eyes wandered across the village and then he saw her. Her saw her long black braid shining white as it reflected the sun. He saw her shy eyes dart in his direction. He stopped chewing to watch and wait. Was she about to go to the Great Sea? She turned, no she was going to the river to gather reeds. Behind her Ziibi ran. She saw Ajijaak and once again stuck her tongue out him. Her expression was so comical he could not help himself he smiled at her. The smile she returned to him was a radiant as the sun. She skipped and grabbed her sister¡¯s hand. What he would do to hold her sister¡¯s hand. Ziibi¡¯s words from the night before echoed in his mind. ¡°You must seek what is required of you.¡± What was required of him? He felt his noko¡¯s unseeing eyes on him. He turned to her and waited for her to speak. She did not, she merely shook her head. He wondered what the old woman saw behind her sightless eyes. How much did she sense? Did she know he did not dream, that his life was without vision?


    The rest of the day, Ajijaak pursued easy tasks. He carved sticks with the sharp knife he had fashioned from the rib bone of a moose. It sliced through the bark easily. The sticks whittled and notched would form the base to prop a large rock. On one stick he would lay dried berries. When a squirrel or rabbit came to eat them they would trip the sticks and the stone would fall on them killing them. This method, did no damage to the skin, and he would give it to his mother to make him a skin hat or a pouch depending on what he caught. As he worked a new idea came to him. What if he made a big trap? A trap so big he could catch one of the bears that lived in a den up river. To catch and kill a bear would make him a man in the eyes of the village. But he could not do it alone. He would need to form a hunting party. Who? His cousin and his uncle, would that be enough? They had a long canoe that could carry a bear. It was stout and held their entire family. Was now the time to trap a bear? He would have to ask his uncle. He set aside his tools and walked to his uncle¡¯s house. Uncle Ogaa sat with back pressed against and oak tree repairing arrows.


    Uncle Ogaa looked up at him with concerned eyes. Did he suspect he had not dreamed? His uncle would not ask, he never would ask. Dreams were sacred and belonged only to the dreamer.


    With the supple movements of his hands, Ajijaak pointed from his uncle to himself, felled and invisible tree with an invisible ax and made the sign for bear.


    Uncle Ogaa smiled. Perhaps he thought this was what Ajijaak had dreamed. ¡°Yes, we can do that. In a few suns. You are still recovering from your journey. Now you are too weak to pierce the heart of a bear, but when your strength is truly back, we will go. Now get back home and sharpen your spears.¡±


    Ajijaak smiled his thanks. He set off down the path that led to his mother¡¯s home. He hoped for another glimpse of Miinan. He could not see her, but he did hear her voice as she sang at her work. The sweetness of it caused him to stop where he was and just listen.


    Ziibi came bursting out of the brush.Fiercely she said, ¡°You are slow of foot and slow of mind. Have you forgotten what I said already?¡± Her lips were stained with blueberry juice. Her teeth were purple as was her tongue. She was such a comical creature. He tried to hide the laughter in his eyes because he knew it would make her mad. He did not succeed.


    Her tiny brown hands went to her narrow hips. She looked up at him and cocked her head. ¡°So you think I am funny?¡±


    He nodded and began to laugh his silent laugh. It made a strange whistling sound deep in his throat. It rose high and loud. It was one of the few remnants of the speech he once possessed. The angry look on Ziibi¡¯s face dissolved into a smile. She said, ¡°Your laughter sounds like the song of the wind in the reeds. It is a happy sound.¡± Her bright eyes shone up at him, she seemed pleased with herself. Playfully he cuffed her dark tangled hair.


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    Her noko¡¯s voice called, ¡°Ziibi, get back here.¡±


    The laughter died in Ajijaak¡¯s throat. Was he to be denied Ziibi¡¯s company as well? Yes, of course. She would not be a little girl forever. She was so tiny it was hard to believe she was only four summers younger than Miinan.


    Ziibi gave him one last smile and ran back to her noko.


    *


    It was evening, and though tired Ajijaak kept alert, hoping for some signal that Miinan was going to go to the Great Sea. For four days he had waited, and she had not gone. She always slipped off, it was his joy when she did, but now, for some reason she was staying very close to her nook. What had happened? He so wanted to be alone with her in their special place.


    From the path, his cousin, Asaawe* approached. He squatted down beside Ajijaak and said, ¡°Father sent me to tell you, we leave tomorrow to build the trap if you feel strong enough?¡±


    Ajijaak nodded. He was strong and had fully recovered from his journey.


    His cousin smiled at him and said, ¡°Good. Some of the girls are picking berries.. Soon they will be going home. Maybe they will let us walk them home.¡±


    Ajijaak made the sign for the old women.


    ¡°Yes, they have a noko with them. But it is Aamoo*.She likes a little romance and she encourages it.¡±


    This was good news. The boys wound some sweet grass around their necks to make themselves smell pleasing to the girls. They went to a stream and smoothed down their hair with water. Each inspected the other for dirt smudges and washed off what they found. When they were both presentable, they headed for the blueberry patch.


    The sound of the girls¡¯ laughter reached them first. They crept through the cedars and went to the rim of the open area where the girls were picking. In the golden light Miinan knelt with her pail. Her fingers busily plucked blueberries from the bush. Ajijaak noticed that the sheen of her hair was the same color as the skin of the blueberry. It was a beautiful color in his eyes.


    Asaawe whispered, ¡°You have eyes only for one. You must not be so obvious cousin. Her father does not like your family and you could cause us all trouble.¡±


    He did not look at Asaawe. He would not let his words destroy the joy he felt at this moment. Nothing would detract him from his focus. He concentrated all his energies on Miinan, silently willing her to look at him.


    Other eyes found him. Ziibi, the imp. Her gaze went from him to Miinan. He expected her to shake her head but she did not. Instead she went to her sister and pointed him out. Miinan tilted her head up. She had seen him. Someone else also saw him, it was Aamoo. She liked Ajijaak and had told him he was handsome like his father. Would she let him do the forbidden and walk with Miinan a little?


    Aamoo limped over to where Miinan stood. She whispered something in her ear and the Miinan slowly began to make her way toward the shadow where the boys were hiding.


    Excited, Asaawe whispered, ¡°She is coming over here.¡±


    Indeed she was. Ajijaak felt his heart race. She was close enough to see and talk to, if only he could speak. A patch of blueberries grew near the trees. She knelt down and began to pick. The soft plop of the berries in the bucket was the only sound. Asaawe nudged Ajijaak. He crept to the very edge of the shadow and stayed low.


    In a soft voice Miinan asked, ¡°How are you Ajijaak?¡±


    He smiled at her.


    Her eyes clouded and she did not return the smile. ¡°I have something to tell you. My noko has made me promise not to go the Great Sea alone anymore. How I miss the full face of Gihizig-ikwe. Will you tell her and Father Sun why I do not come?¡±


    He nodded. His heart hurt within him. To be robbed of this was hard on her, but he thought it was even harder for him.


    ¡°I am growing too old to run off alone. Noko is right it is not safe. My father found tracks of men on the shore where I go.¡±


    The tracks had been Ajijaak¡¯s. How could he have been so stupid? Or did Mikinaak know they were his?


    Miinan raised her eyes to him. ¡°Perhaps when my life partner comes, he will take me to the Great Sea. Father never has time.¡±


    What was she saying? Hope leapt inside of him. Was she referring to him? Was she letting him know she wanted him to go to her family?


    Her shy smile did not reveal anything but kindness. He was too full of his own hopes to notice this. She stood and moved back to where the other girls were picking.

 Chapter 10. Promised

    With complete stillness, Ziibi watched her sister speak to Ajijaak. The other girls were watching too. What were they saying? Did Ajijaak understand that Miinan did not care for him like he cared for her? How could he be so blind? It had been foolish of her to point him out to Miinan. She had hoped her indifference to Ajijaak would make him understand her feelings for him, but no, her stupid sister went to where he was to have a conversation in public with him. This would get back to Noko, and most likely her father. Then, then, well¡­that remained to be seen, but it would not be pleasant for Miinan, and it might be devastating for Ajijaak.


    When Aamoo called to the girls, Ajijaak and Asaawe moved out of the shadows and walked with the girls. Ziibi hung back. She could hear the whispers about her sister keeping company with the silent boy. Miinan must have heard them too, because she slowed her pace and started to talking to* Waabizii, a tall girl with a slender neck. At first Ajijaak did not realize she was not beside him. He looked behind him. Ziibi saw the joy in his eyes go flat. His face turned red. How could Miinan be so rude? Awkwardly, he continued ahead of the girls. His cousin Asaawe was flirting with Waaban. He did not notice his cousin. Though she knew she could not ease his embarrassment, Ziibi ran up to Ajijaak. He pretended not to see her.


    She refused to be hurt by this because she was so aware of how hurt he was. Did he understand yet? No. She could tell by the set of his jaw he was angry, not with Miinan, but with himself and his limitations. Ziibi longed to take his hand, but such an action would only further embarrass him. So, she contented herself with walking beside him chattering about things that did not matter, like the color of the pine needles and the number of berries in her bucket. Ajijaak gave her no sign that he heard her. His eyes from time to time would glance backwards hoping Miinan would look at him again. She did not. When they reached the village, Miinan stayed safe in the cluster of girls. Waaban who had been walking with Asaawe slipped back among the girls.


    Gently, Ziibi touched Ajijaak¡¯s arm, before she left to join the girls. He glanced at her. He jutted his chin out indicating that she should go with the other girls. She did as he told her.


    Ziibi fell behind the older girls. She heard Waabizii ask, ¡°Did you see Ajijaak? What does he think Miinan? Does he really think your father will let you walk the path with him?¡±


    Miinan¡¯s voice dropped low, ¡°He would not think that. He knows we are just friends.¡±


    Waabizii laughed, ¡°Ha! What ever you say.¡±


    Shy *Waaban whispered, ¡°I heard the old women talking. They say, since you are the daughter of a Mide. Your mate was chosen long ago.¡±


    Miinan and Ziibi both looked at Waaban. They had not heard this before. Miinan asked, ¡°What are you talking about?¡±


    Too quickly, Aamoo answered, ¡°Long ago you were promised to another Mide family.¡± She flushed and said, ¡°Oh, I should not have said that. Your father will be angry. No one repeat what I have said.¡± She gave the girls a warning look before she shooed them to their homes.


    When Ziibi entered her house with her bucket, Noko took it from her. She looked inside, and then she looked at Ziibi¡¯s stained face and teeth. ¡°It seems once again my little Ziibi has put more blueberries in her tummy than in her bucket.¡±


    ¡°I am sorry Noko. They are just so good when warmed by the sun.¡±


    ¡°Yes they are. Tomorrow you will do better.¡±


    ¡°Yes Noko.¡±


    Miinan fidgeted with her bucket. Noko asked, ¡°Is something wrong Miinan?¡±


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    With eyes full of tears, Miinan asked, ¡°Is it true I have been promised to a partner all along?¡±


    Noko¡¯s voice was sharp, ¡°Who told you this?¡±


    Miinan remained silent.


    ¡°I bet I can guess. Amoo?¡±


    Miinan nodded. Two tears slipped from her eyes.


    ¡°Why are you crying child? There is nothing to cry over. Your father would not choose a poor mate for you. The young man is strong and smart. He will provide for you well when the time comes.¡±


    Before she could stop herself Ziibi asked, ¡°Who is he?¡±


    ¡°That is something only your father can tell your sister. You do not need to know.¡±


    Oh yes she did. And she would find out. Waaban¡¯s noko would know. She would ask her tonight when they all gathered around the fire. The old woman loved to share every secret that crossed her path.


    Miinan asked, ¡°Are you sure he will be a good man?¡±


    ¡°Yes, his father and his grandfather before him are good. They treat their wives and children well you have nothing to fear. Trust your father¡¯s judgment.¡±


    ¡°But other girls get to pick their own mates.¡±


    ¡°Other girls are not Mide the way we are Mide. It would not be fitting for you to choose anyone.¡±


    Ziibi thought of Ajijaak. All at once she realized that if her father had chosen a mate for her sister, chances were, there was a boy out there destined to be her man. ¡°Has father picked me a partner too?¡±


    Noko looked at her anxious granddaughter. ¡°Yes, and I feel sorry for the poor boy. You will make a difficult woman.¡±


    Anger flushed through Ziibi. She would not join her life to some strange boy of her father¡¯s choosing. Did Waaban¡¯s noko know the name of her future mate? This was something she would find out. She would make the boy hate her so he would refuse to join his life to hers. There was only one man that she would walk with, and he would not be a man of her father¡¯s choosing.


    *


    The fire burned bright in the center of the village. The men sat around the fire exchanging stories of past battles and treacherous hunts. Sitting by his cousin was Ajijaak. His eyes kept flitting to Miinan, who did not even see him, she was so absorbed in her talk with her friends.


    Quietly Ziibi made her way to where Waaban¡¯s noko sat with the other nokos. The old women were bantering back and forth. Ziibi waited. No one paid her any mind. In time they forgot her presence all together. This is what she wanted them to do. She waited for the old women¡¯s tongues to become loose in their heads. It did not take long.


    Waaban¡¯s noko said, ¡°Did you hear, that Ajijaak tried to walk Miinan home this evening?¡±


    Old heads nodded.


    Waaban¡¯s noko said, ¡°You will be in trouble Aamoo for your carelessness.¡±


    ¡°I was not careless. What harm can come from young people walking together in broad day light.¡±


    Waaban¡¯s noko shook her head. ¡°Much trouble, when one of the young people is Mide and the other is a broken vessel.¡±


    Ziibi felt her face go red with rage. It took all the self-control she had to remain silent and unnoticed.


    The old woman continued, ¡°Mikinaak will have words with you, Aamoo. Just wait. It will happen. You know that girl is promised to a boy from the loon clan.¡±


    One old woman asked, ¡°Do you know who?¡±


    ¡°I have heard that it is a boy named Giniwi. He is said to be very handsome and tall. A strong boy with much power. He will come as soon as Miinan¡¯s woman hood arrives. I hear he is anxious to meet his wife. Miinan¡¯s beauty has been told to him. She is a pretty girl. Sweet too.¡± Waaban¡¯s noko¡¯s bright eyes flashed at the group. There was something in the gleam of them that sent fear through Ziibi. The old woman continued, but she had dropped her voice almost to a whisper, ¡°I wonder what will happen to our love sick Ajijaak, when Miinan is mated.¡±


    Tongue¡¯s clucked. It was mock concern. Only Aamoo¡¯s eyes registered any genuine feeling for Ajijaak.


    Unable to contain herself longer Ziibi shot up. ¡°He will be fine. He is strong. His heart will mend.¡±


    The old women seeing her earnest red face, laughed at her. Amoo asked, ¡°How is it that you care so much for the feelings of this boy?¡±


    ¡°He is good and kind and honest. He works hard to take care of his noko and his mother. They are never hungry. Do your son¡¯s provide for you as well as he does for them.¡± Ziibi waited for the backlash of their anger. It did not come.


    Amoo teased, ¡°Little girl, I think your heart beats for Ajijaak.¡±


    It was true, it did. Angry and embarrassed Ziibi ran away from the women. Their laughter followed her. They had not meant her any harm, but her young heart was wounded just the same. They had criticized the boy she loved and chided her for being so young. She would not always be a child. One day she too would be a woman and she would show them. If her father did not forbid it, she would have heaped some small curses on the old women. They deserved them, but her father would not allow any power to be used to evil purposes. The abuse of power always came back on the abuser. It had happened in Ajijaak¡¯s family, it could happen in hers.

 Chapter 11. Bear Hunt

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 Chapter 12. She Bear

    In the yard, Father Sun looked down. He was soft yellow light this morning. Ziibi liked him best when he wore this light. She was happy. Today was another day of blueberry picking. Eager to get to picking Ziibi struggled to stay still while Noko draped and tied the elk skin cape around her shoulders. The air was sharp with cold. White smoke came from their mouths when they spoke. Noko said, ¡°You put more berries in your bucket today than in your mouth. Promise?¡±


    This was a promise Ziibi could not keep, so she said, ¡°I will try.¡± She loved fresh, warm off the bush blueberries more than anything the Great Mystery had created. Already she could taste their tangy juice and feel the grit of their seeds between her teeth. Purposefully she had only eaten a little of the root cakes dusted with maple sugar that her noko had made. Her insides must have plenty of room for berries.


    The door flap opened. Miinan stepped into the yard. She had brushed her hair to a deep shine. It caught the morning light and mimicked the blue skin of the blueberry. Ziibi looked at her own black braid. It was not blue black, maybe if she ate enough berries it might turn that color. It was worth a try.


    On the trail, Ajijaak¡¯s mother appeared with two large baskets. It was her turn to take the girls berry picking. She was a lovely, tall and slender woman. Despite all the village gossip, she kept her head high and did not cower in shame over the fate of her family. Ajijaak¡¯s noko was with her. She wore a dress dyed with sumac. In her hands was a small bowl filled with folded squares of birch bark. She would do her bark biting while the girls picked. Her back did not like to stoop over.


    The older girls whispered as they walked down the steep trail to the meadow where the berries grew. Ziibi thought their talk was boring. They cared too much about beadwork, and recipes. They also giggled about boys. There were younger girls closer to Ziibi¡¯s age. They kept a respectful distance from her, she was after all the Mide¡¯s daughter, a fact she never failed to point out to them. The truth was her female skills were lacking and she hated to be teased. Her ropes unraveled, her beadwork was sloppy and she had caught fire to their home more than once because she forgot to mind her cooking.


    When they reached the clearing the big girls suddenly stopped. One clamped her hand over her mouth stifling a scream. There in the midst of the berry patch was a huge black bear and her cubs. The she-bear raised her head. Her small dark eyes flashed in Ziibi¡¯s direction. In that instant Ziibi felt this bear¡¯s strength and power. It seemed to take root inside of her. One of the cubs squalled but the bear did not stop looking at the girls. All at once she raised herself up on her two hind feet. She thrust her great front paws upward. She was so tall. The morning sun glistened on her sleek black coat. She gave a warning growl.


    In a soft voice Ajijaak¡¯s noko spoke, ¡°Mother Bear, we did not come to harm your children.¡±


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    The bear turned to the sound of the noko¡¯s voice.


    Ajijaak¡¯s Noko continued, ¡°We have come because we too must eat. If it would not be too much trouble, please go back into the woods for now. You can return when we have gone. We will leave plenty for you and your cubs.¡±


    The bear studied the old woman with her small black eyes. Everyone remained very still lest they startle the bear. Slowly, the mama bear lowered her magnificent body to the ground. She called her cubs to her. On swift feet she and her babies disappeared into the brush.


    Ziibi stared at Ajijaak¡¯s noko. How was it that she had power over the bear?


    Later when the other girls were filling their buckets, Ziibi wandered over to the birch shade where Ajijaak¡¯s noko sat biting her bark. Though she kept up her biting, she nodded for Ziibi to take a seat beside her. In silence they sat. Ziibi could hear the soft crunch of the old woman¡¯s teeth upon the bark. When she finished, she took the folded bark out of her mouth. Carefully she unfolded it. Her gnarled fingers traced the pattern she had made. A please smile creased her face.


    Ziibi leaned over to see what the noko had created. On the square bark was a picture of intricate flowers. She asked, ¡°How do you do that?¡±


    Ajijaak¡¯s noko tapped her head. ¡°The visions are in here. They travel into my teeth and my teeth know the path that will make the picture.¡±


    ¡°I want to know how to do that.¡±


    The old woman handed Ziibi a fresh bit of folded bark. She said, ¡°Trust your teeth to reveal your vision.¡±


    Ziibi took the bark. The smell of it was familiar. Almost every container they owned and even the house they lived in was made of birch bark. She closed her eyes like Ajijaak¡¯s noko and bit down. The flavor of the bark was sharp. She made another bite, and then another one. She did not know if she was making a design or a mess. She did not have much faith in her ability, but she tried hard. All the sudden, she felt her teeth take over, it was as if they knew exactly where to bite. She chose to trust their lead. The sensation was similar to the feeling she got when she followed the wolf path Mikwam charted. Of their own volition her teeth stopped their chewing. She took the folded bark out of her mouth. ¡°I am done.¡± She handed the bard to Ajijaak¡¯s noko.


    With careful fingers the elder woman unfolded the birch bark.Ziibi saw the work of her teeth and was amazed at what she created. Though the design was very crude she recognized the shape of a bear, a she-bear standing on her back legs.


    Ajijaak¡¯s noko¡¯s wrinkled fingers gently traced the design. She clucked her tongue. ¡°Is very good for a first time.¡±


    Deeply pleased, Ziibi asked, ¡°Do you think so?¡±


    The elder woman growled low in her throat before she said, ¡°I said so, I do not say what is not true.¡±


    With a slight bow of her head, Ziibi said, ¡°I know you do.¡±


    A smile ran along the wrinkled in Ajijaak¡¯s noko¡¯s face.


    Ziibi very much wanted to keep the square of birch bark, but she must wait for it to be offered as a gift. To her dismay Ajijaak¡¯s noko said, ¡°I will keep this for now. When your time of womanhood comes, I will give it to you to remind you of the strength of the bear mother.¡±


    ¡°Yes Noko.¡± Ziibi was very disappointed. Still, she was not in any rush to become a woman. She hoped that time was summers and summers away.

 Chapter 13. The Power Within

    Ziibi sat in the garden that her father cultivated behind the house. Here he grew the herbs and plants necessary for healing. There was cowslip, golden rod, blue cohosh, calamus, strange ferns and plants with names only her father knew. The plants held power, like the bear held power, like all creation held power to heal if harnessed properly. With careful fingers she explored the silky flower head of the nettle. It seemed the plant was communicating with her, telling her of its purpose. It cured things inside the body, things beneath the skin. Its roots could be boiled with other roots to make medicine for the stomach.So absorbed was she in listening to the story of the plant, she failed to hear her father¡¯s step.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡±


    Her father¡¯s voice startled her. She leapt to her feet. ¡°I was just listening to the plant.¡±


    A strange expression crossed her father¡¯s face. ¡°You hear the plants?¡±


    By his expression she was not sure if he was angry of if did not believe her. It took a lot of courage for her to say, ¡°Yes.¡±


    He came to her and he took her small hands in his. He turned them palms up and stared at them for a long time. Then, he laced his fingers through hers. She felt his energy enter her body, she also felt something else, she felt her own energy pass into his. He did not speak, and he frowned. He was displeased with her. She did not understand why. He asked, ¡°What did you just feel?¡±


    Ziibi did not know why adults asked questions if they did not want the truth. She could tell by her father¡¯s expression that he wanted her to say nothing. He hoped she would say nothing. Problem was, he had raised her too well for her to lie, to avoid his displeasure. Her voice quavered when she said, ¡°I felt my power join with yours.¡± In his dark eyes, she saw his fear turn to anger and then to worry. Since she had nothing more to add, she remained silent. He removed his hands from hers.


    Only silence passed between them. Ziibi felt fear clutch at her own heart. If she had been born male, her gifts would have been celebrated by her father, but she was not male. The Great Mystery had not blessed her father with sons. Male Mide could perform acts that female Mide were not allowed to do. Plus, her father believed it was more fitting for males to be Mide than females. Finally he said, ¡°I need you to keep an eye on your sister. There is gossip going about and she must not fall into temptation.¡±


    Ziibi replied, ¡°I will, ¡± even though she resented this request. Miinan was older than her and should be able to keep herself out of trouble.


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    Her father knelt down in front of her and said, ¡°I am leaving for my seclusion, and I will need you to use your sharp eyes and ears while I am gone.¡± He placed his palm on the top of her head. Again she was keenly aware of his power, could she suppress her own? With careful concentration she did just that, unaware that by doing so she had just discovered an even greater power within herself. Her father¡¯s voice trembled a bit when he said, ¡°I have heard you talking to your guardian in the night. I have seen you run down paths in darkness and not stumble or be afraid. I knew you were not alone.¡± Could he see Mikwam? She could not ask. A Mide revealed only what they were lead to reveal. He continued, ¡°Mide is a hard life for a man, harder still for a woman.¡±


    Was he discouraging her or recognizing her? Ziibi was not sure.


    Her father removed his hand from her head. ¡°While I am in my seclusion, I will be seek guidance concerning you.¡±


    This special attention pleased Ziibi. Every year, as a Mide her father must spend time alone in seclusion to restore himself. During that time he prayed and communicated with the healing spirits, he remembered the stories he had been taught, and the remedies he had learned. He also sought new remedies. The most important thing of all for the Mide was to always learn, and to always listen to the things the earth spoke. Ziibi knew that one day, she would be a Mide. A new thought came to her. She could not be a full Mide until her father grew too feeble, or died. She and her mother and sister were his second family. His first family was grown, and his first wife had died long ago. His hair was laced with silver strands that ran the length of his braid. Small wrinkles crossed beneath his eyes and over his forehead. How old was he? She did not know. Her moment of joy turned to fear. It took a long time to learn the healing arts, would he live long enough to teach them all to her?


    He told her, ¡°When the Midewiwin meets, I will recommend you.¡± Ziibi had to be approved by the healers before she could begin her training. ¡°If they accept you, you will be given a guide, to teach you.¡±


    Alarmed Ziibi said, ¡°You can not teach me.¡±


    ¡°Only for a little while. In three summers you will become a woman, and then I will not be able to teach you any more. You must be prepared to be sent to another healer to learn. It may be far away.¡±


    Suddenly Ziibi did not want to be a Mide. She did not want to leave her home or her people. ¡°Where will you send me?¡±


    ¡°I will not send you anywhere. The Midewiwin will choose a female guide for you. They will choose well.¡±


    Ziibi threw herself in her father¡¯s arms. She did not want to leave him. He stroked her hair and said, ¡°There my child, this is not something to sorrow over. When it is time for you to leave, if it is ever time for you to leave, you will be given the strength and courage to do so.¡± He pried her away from him and cupped her chin in his hand, ¡°You are not Mide yet my child. Many things must come to pass. So do not trouble yourself. Enjoy what each day brings.¡±


    For a long while she stared into her father¡¯s eyes. Never had he gazed at her so intently. The sadness she saw in his eyes concerned her. Before this moment in time, she had only considered the positive side of Mide. She had imagined possessing the power and the ability to heal. Under her father¡¯s gaze she became aware of the other side of healing, the times when medicine failed and bodies did not survive. Bitterness and blame were things the Mide must deal with from a grieving family. There was also the ever-enticing temptation of entering into the darker and destructive side of mystery. All this her father communicated to her without speaking. He slid his hand down the length of her arm and squeezed her hand. ¡°You must keep this between us. Your mother will not be pleased.¡±


    When was her mother ever pleased? She watched her father walk away from her. She knew what her mother wanted. Her mother wanted her to be a good woman, able to do women¡¯s work. She wanted Ziibi to behave herself and learn to care for her future family. She wondered if she would have a family. She did not know any Mide Women. How did they live? What were there lives like?

 Chapter 14. The Spirit of the Bear

    The next morning dawned cool and bright. After a quick breakfast of dried meat and berries the men were back at the trap. One by one they set up the logs and bound them with heavy twine twisted by Asaawe¡¯s noko and mother. Between the logs they left enough space to jab a spear through. The one, who stabbed the bear¡¯s heart, would receive the spirit of the bear. Ajijaak desperately wanted to be the one. Though he was from the Crane clan, he longed to be a bear. He could not change his clan, but if he could kill a bear, his first bear, at least the spirit of the bear would enter him, and then, he would dream. He just knew he would dream. Asaawe began to sing the song to the bear. His cousin¡¯s voice was deep and throaty but had an uncommon sweetness. Would the bear hear, would the bear come? Yes! It had to be yes!


    After the deadfall trap was tied together, Uncle Ogaa rigged the trap door with three branches balanced and notched in the shape of a lopsided triangle. From a birch bark pot Asaawe smeared honey on a log and set it carefully on the branch that would snap. When the bear reached for the honey he would trip the branch and the door would close. Ajijaak looked around him. The deep shadows of the trees hid many creatures. Was the bear among them? Did bear see the men? Ajijaak prayed not.


    After testing the trap, the men re-rigged it and returned to camp. The smell of frying fish came to them. Who was at the camp? Ajijaak¡¯s first thought was Ziibi. Surely the little girl had not followed him on a bear hunt. It was not Ziibi who greeted them but their friend Azhe¡¯o. He smiled and asked, ¡°Hungry?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± said, Uncle Ogaa.


    ¡°I have prepared plenty.¡± He had indeed, sizzling in bear grease were four large perch and two catfish. They rested in a green birch bark platter over the fire. With a forked twig, he turned the fish. They were golden brown, sweetened with maple sugar and chopped wild onions. Ajijaak had not realized how hungry he was.


    No one asked why Azhe¡¯o had come. They knew. He did not like the hard work of trap building, but he was a skilled spearman. He could throw straight and hard. He never missed his mark. He wanted to be the one who killed the bear. Dismay filled Ajijaak. He wanted Azhe¡¯o to go home. Ajijaak glanced at his cousin Asaawe. His look told his displeasure too. Asaawe had not yet killed his first bear either.


    Uncle Ogaa said, ¡°I hear tell you will soon be leaving our village.¡±


    ¡°Yes, you have heard right.¡± A huge smile split Azhe¡¯o face as he placed the fried fish on the bark platters.


    ¡°Why?¡± asked Asaawe.


    ¡°For the love of a woman. In the Loon clan a fair girl has caught my eye. If she is agreeable to me, I will go to live in her mother¡¯s house.¡± It was their custom for the newly partnered to remain in the girl¡¯s mother¡¯s house until the young couple could afford to live on their own.


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    Asaawe said, ¡°Tell us what she looks like.¡±


    It had grown dark. All around them the night creatures were waking and the day creatures were settling in for the night. Azhe¡¯o stretched out his lean body. He sighed contentedly and said, ¡°She is kind and pleasing to look at. She thinks that I am handsome.¡±


    ¡°Is she blind?¡± Asaawe hooted.


    Angrily, Azhe¡¯o said, ¡°Be quiet if you want to hear more.¡± He began to describe the girl. Ajijaak did not hear him. In his mind he saw Miinan. He saw her smile, he heard her voice, and he could almost conjure her presence.


    *


    The low rumble of an angry bear woke them from sleep. It was not yet light, but the sky was purple with dawn. Each man grabbed his spear. Ajijaak grabbed his bow and arrows as well. Azhe¡¯o said, ¡°You will not need those.¡±


    Maybe not, but he wanted to be prepared for anything. As they ran through the trees the birds were beginning to awake. They filled the air with their raucous cries. The great bear was thrashing angrily against the trap. He was in a fury. When they reached the trap, the bear was swinging from side to side, thrusting his great black shoulders against the logs. He wanted out, and he wanted out now. He jaws bit at the trap door. His big teeth gleamed in the filtered light. Azhe¡¯o reached the trap first. He did not hesitate he thrust his spear between the slats. It was not a good strike. It nicked the bear, but did not penetrate him. The bear gave an angry jerk to the right, all the sudden the twine holding the door broke. The bear had shredded it with his teeth or his claws. He smashed his claws against the door it fell open. Furious the bear went straight for Azhe¡¯o. Unless threatened bears did not attack people. This bear lunged forward. Azhe¡¯o scrambled up the nearest tree. Asaawe ran toward the bear and thrust his spear at the bear. The bear swung round at the moment it would have made contact. The spear whizzed by striking nothing but dirt. Ajijaak could see the gleaming eyes of the bear. He could feel the creature¡¯s rage. This bear did not want to die this day; He did not want to offer his life to sustain theirs. The choice was not his though. Ajijaak flung down his spear, and fitted his bow with his toughest arrow. It had the bored tip with the spinner in it that could twist its way to the bear¡¯s vitals and kill it. The bear rose up on his hind legs. He let out a guttural growl. The entire forest trembled. Ajijaak released the arrow. It seemed to slice the air ever so slowly. It spanned the distance between he and the bear and struck one of the bear¡¯s huge ribs. The point did not enter the bear. The bear broke off the arrowhead. Blood seeped from the wound, but it was not a fatal one. The spirit of the bear would not inhabit Ajijaak if he did not kill it. He wanted this bear¡¯s fierce fighting spirit. This bear was magnificent. All at once Ajijaak was ashamed. A hunter did not kill to capture the spirit, a hunter killed to feed and clothe his family. The animal offered its life to sustain the lives of others. It was a sacrifice. This bear was not meant for him.


    Uncle Ogaa thrust his spear.It pierced the bear¡¯s heart. Ajijaak felt the spirit of the bear pass over him. It shook its broad shoulders and entered the land where there was no more pain or struggle. He turned to his uncle expecting to see some change in him. There was only a look of reverence and gratitude. His children would not go hungry thanks to the bear. His family would be kept warm in the harsh winter thanks to the bear¡¯s heavy coat. In a quiet voice Uncle Ogaa said the words of honor to the bear, to thank him for giving his life to sustain others. From the bag tied around his waist he offered his best tobacco to the spirit of the bear. The others watched as he offered his respect.


    When Uncle Ogaa finished, they tied the bear¡¯s feet together with heavy twine and tied him to a pole so they could carry him to camp. The bear was heavy. His life¡¯s blood seeped from him. The spirit of this bear had been great and now it rested on Uncle Ogaa because he had been worthy. Ajijaak was grateful he had not succeeded in his attempt. The bear was not meant for him. It was bad to take what was not his through vice.


    After they tore down their camp, put the hot coals back in the pot, they carried the bear and placed him in Uncle Ogaa¡¯s canoe. The canoe rested very low in the water. As Ajijaak took his place in Azheo¡¯s canoe the light of the sun reflected of the black fur of the bear. It was a white and transforming light. It seemed made of life.

 Chapter 15.

    With a contrite spirit, Ajijaak paddled homeward. What would Miinan think when she saw the beautiful bear? If he had killed the bear he had planned to foolishly give it to her family, that would have been prideful and would not have been welcomed by her father. Miinan¡¯s womanhood had not come to her yet. He would have shamed himself and his family. The Great Spirit had spared him much, by not answering his prayer to kill.


    Soon, he saw the smoke from the village rising above the pines and cedars. His uncle paddled the canoe to shore. Ajijaak, jumped out into the cold water. It sent a shock through him. Uncle Ogaa paddled the canoe ashore while Ajijaak guided the back. His cousin and Azhe¡¯o helped get the bear out. His blood dripped red in the water. Minnows swam to the surface to investigate the blood. The weight of the bear made the men sink deeply into the river silt. They slogged their way to shore.


    All homes faced to the east to great the rising sun. Women were outside working, door flaps opened as old men came out of the shadows to see the kill. The only person Ajijaak saw was Miinan. By the look on her face he could tell she was impressed. Did she think he had killed the bear? She smiled at him. He ducked his head unsure of what to do. He did not see Ziibi, hiding behind the door flap watching.


    They took the bear to his uncle¡¯s home. His aunt, Anib, was there with his mother and his noko. Noko went to the bear and ran her old hands down the entire length of the dead bear. ¡°He is large, who killed him.¡±


    Uncle Ogaa said, ¡°I did.¡±


    Noko smiled a wide smile revealing her strong teeth. It is good. ¡°We will have the warmth of the fur and wealth of his body. He is so big, we will need help to prepare him.¡±


    Ziibi flew to the side of Ajijaak¡¯s noko. She said, ¡°I will help.¡±


    Miinan started to come to, but her mother grasped her arm and shook her head.


    Anger filled Ajijaak so quickly; he had to turn away lest he betray himself. He had not killed the bear, why couldn¡¯t Miinan help?


    Another voice spoke, it was Ziibi¡¯s noko. ¡°I too will help.¡±


    *


    Ziibi dark eyes traveled the entire length of the beautiful bear. How gracious of him to give his life so Ogaa and his family would be kept fed and warm. It was what animals did for the People, and the People were grateful for their generosity. The bear¡¯s coat was thick and beautiful. He was a handsome creature. Beside her Ajijaak stood gazing at the bear. She wondered what he thought. Had he wanted to kill the bear? She looked up at Ajijaak. The sun reflected on his still wet thighs. She saw scrape marks and scratches on his shins and his arms. He must have tried to kill the bear, or at least helped to do so. She noticed his eyes, glance up toward Miinan. From a distance Miinan shyly nodded at him. A pain twisted inside Ziibi¡¯s heart. Ajijaak and her sister were foolish. It seemed most young people were, why? Miinan should not encourage Ajijaak¡¯s attention. Disgusted, she turned her eyes back to the bear.


    The bear¡¯s head was broad. His teeth were big and gleamed in the sun. His jaws were large. He was so still. She touched the soft velvet of the bear¡¯s nose. His nostrils were delicate spirals like the inside of a snail shell. She felt the nearness of the Great Mystery.


    Aniib said, ¡°I prayed for a successful hunt.¡±


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    Ziibi turned to her. ¡°I did too.¡±


    Softly Aniib said, ¡°I thank you for your prayers, Ziibi. My family has something to share for a change. Come let us begin.¡± She went into the house and brought out the tools to slaughter the bear. Ajijaak, Asaawe and Uncle Ogaa, with Ziibi¡¯s help dragged the bear to the slaughtering tree. Azhe¡¯o had fled while no one was looking. He was fond of the hunt but not the work that came before or after it.


    Ziibi noticed how Ajijaak¡¯s muscles popped in his arms while he and the others hoisted the bear on the limb of the oak tree. With an expert slice of moose rib bone knife, Aniib cut open the carcass. With great skill, she and Nika, Ajijaak¡¯s mother, peeled away the skin with sharp rounded stones that had small handles attached. When the skin was removed, Ziibi stared at the strange creature, robbed of its glory. It looked pale and pitiful. Nika cut through the fat and muscles of the bear¡¯s stomach, Ziibi caught the entrails in a large birch bowl. The intestines fascinated her. The tubing was so long, why it could probably stretch the length of the village. She wondered how long her guts were. Aniib cut the entrails free, and moved deeper into the bear¡¯s body. She reached the heart.


    This was what in Ziibi¡¯s mind was the most amazing part of the bear¡¯s body, of any animal¡¯s body. It was what beat like a drum inside the living¡¯s chest. It was the most necessary sound. She loved to snuggle in her Noko¡¯s arms and just listen to the beating of her heart. The bear¡¯s heart looked like a huge closed flower bud rich with bursting life. It was where the bear¡¯s spirit had resided, at least this is what Ziibi believed. Reverently Aniib placed the heart in a bowl and covered it. The women continued their work. Once the steaks had been cut and the flesh removed from every rib and bone, they removed the head. Aniib asked Ziibi, ¡°Would you like to prepare the head, we must get busy with the smoke racks.¡±


    Dumbfounded by this Ziibi could only nod. She took the huge head in her small hands. With the sharp bone tools Aniib provided for her, Ziibi carefully peeled the skin away, extracted his eyes, brain and the scant flesh that covered the skull. She put all of this in small containers Ajijaak¡¯s noko had laid out for her. When the skull was as clean as she could get it, she took it to the fire where a pot of water boiled. Carefully she slid the skull off the paddle and into the water. It made a terrific hissing sound as it submerged. Huge and small bubble¡¯s burst to the surface.


    It was getting dark night would soon fall. The women would be up all night preparing for tomorrow¡¯s feast. Ziibi had hoped to stay up with them, but her father came to get her. She did not want to go home.


    Aniib, seeing her face, ¡°Tomorrow morning you will paint the skull.¡±


    Ziibi¡¯s mouth dropped open. She had not expected to get to paint the skull. This was a rare honor.


    Her father asked, ¡°Why is my daughter to paint the skull?¡±


    Ajijaak¡¯s noko said, ¡°Because the spirit of the bear has chosen her.¡±


    A strange sensation filled Ziibi. She had been chosen? Why?


    Without further questions, her father led her home.


    Once they were home, her mother asked, ¡°Where is Noko?¡±


    Ziibi¡¯s father said, ¡°She has stayed to help.¡±


    With flashing jealous eyes her mother said, ¡°And who will help me?¡±


    In a calm but firm voice Father said, ¡°Miinan, and I.¡±


    Her mother¡¯s angry eyes landed on Ziibi. ¡°Ziibi will help too.¡±


    ¡°No, Ziibi has been asked to paint the skull and she will do it.¡±


    With venom in her voice, Ziibi¡¯s mother asked, ¡°What, what does she know about painting skulls? She is too young.¡±


    With a hard look Father said, ¡°She is old enough.¡±


    ¡°We will see about that.¡± Her mother turned away from her. Ziibi could feel her displeasure. It was not an uncommon feeling. Without her mother¡¯s help, Ziibi bathed herself. She scrubbed all the blood off of her skin.bNext, she set her clothes to soak. Tomorrow, removing the blood from them would take much scrubbing. Weary from excitement and exertion, she went to her pallet and lay down beside Miinan.


    Miinan whispered to her, ¡°You will get to paint the skull?¡±


    Ziibi nodded.


    ¡°I wish I could paint the skull, I would paint it purple.¡±


    Purple was a hard color to make, and Ziibi knew her father did not have the rotting maple wood necessary to make it. ¡°I am going to paint it yellow.¡±


    With a touch a jealousy in her voice Miinan asked, ¡°That is such a common color not fitting. Do you even know what makes yellow?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± She rolled away from her sister.


    ¡°How do you know?¡±


    ¡°The plants have told me.¡±


    ¡°Ha, you are making that up. Plants only speak to healers. Noko told you¡±


    Ziibi bit her lip to keep  from repeating what her father had said to her about her being Mide. It was a secret she must honor, the first of many, many secrets to come.

 Chapter 16. Bear Skull

    The next morning, as soon as she had gulped down her rice, Ziibi ran to her father¡¯s medicine shed. Into a basket she placed what she would need to make yellow dye. She found the inner and outer bark of an alder tree, the bark of the sumac and wild plumb roots. These would make lovely shades of yellow. Yellow was a simple color to make but it was like the sun and had many shades of brightness. Ziibi felt that the bear had liked to walk in the sun. From another container she took the bark of the bur oak and bark and root of the butternut. These would make the color black once she had boiled them down. Careful not to tip over her basket she walked to Ogaa¡¯s house. Ajijaak was outside with his mother. When Ziibi saw him she said, ¡°You must leave.¡±


    Ajijaak turned to her. His left eyebrow was cocked up in question.


    In one breath she said, ¡°I am making dye for the bear head, and no man must look upon it while I make it, you have to leave now.¡±


    His mother, Nika, smiled at Ziibi. ¡°She is right.¡±


    Ajijaak made signs at his mother. Ziibi clearly read them. He called her a child, he said she might ruin the skull.


    Angrily his mother said, ¡°Your noko said she could do it and she can. No go on. This is woman¡¯s work here.¡±


    Crushed by Ajijaak¡¯s condescension and suddenly unsure of herself, Ziibi ducked her head and went behind the house. A fire was burning for the dye making. A pot boiled over the fire. The bear skull laid bleached white on a birch bark mat. She went to it and ran her fingers over the smooth surface of the skull. Her eyes traced the delicate lines where the bones meshed to form the skull. As her fingertips touched the cold bone, she felt again the spirit of the bear. She felt his strength. The self-confidence that Ajijaak had crushed in her, returned. She could do this. The bear would guide her. She would feel the pattern she must paint, the way she had felt the pattern when she made the bark bitten bear. Only it would be her fingers that made the design and not her teeth.


    Nika came round from the front. She said, ¡°Do not mind him. You will do fine. Men often think they know best, my son is no different. Come let us make the dye.¡±


    The two began putting the bark in the pots according to tradition. It was a rather long and hot process, but finally, they had the dye ready. When it had cooled, Ziibi sliced a goose feather with her bone knife. She then dipped the quill into the dye. She did not paint with a brush at first, instead she carefully followed the lines of the skull with the quill, making a swirling pattern when it seemed necessary with the dark yellow dye. While decorating the skull, she lost all track of time and her surroundings. Several more quills were made as she put in the lighter shades and the black outlines. As she worked she entered the sacred space where creativity thrives and gives.


    *


    In the evening wind, the voices of ancestors chanted in the wind. Ajijaak could hear them. He could feel the spirit of the bear. His eyes flashed across the gathering crowd, he saw Miinan, and she saw him. The smile she gave him sent a wave of excitement through him. Had she ever smiled at him like that before?


    Night was falling. Asaawe called to him. He went to join his Uncle Ogaa, his cousin Asaawe and his friend Azhe¡¯o. They held the bear skull between them. For the first time Ajijaak saw what Ziibi had painted on the skull. It was a bear in the midst of a swirling sun. The swirls were filled with life and power. She was just a little girl, how had she created such a work? A chill came over him. Had Ziibi really somehow partaken of the spirit of the bear? How was this possible? In the distance he heard a moose call to another moose. The men made their way to the place by the fire. Uncle Ogaa offered tobacco to the spirit of the bear before the village. Beyond the inner circle of men, Ajijaak saw Ziibi. Her eyes were fixed on him. He expected to see pride in her eyes because of what she had painted, but he did not. What he saw was humility and gratitude for the honor she had received. In an instant he saw how hard her path would be. It would be a steep climb that would require much discipline. The Great Mystery would hold her and would guide her. The vision evaporated. Why had he received a vision of Ziibi when he has not received one of his own? He felt hard eyes on him. It was Ziibi¡¯s mother¡¯s. She did not like him. She thought he was looking at Miinan. He turned his eyes back to the skull.


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    They raised the bear skull. The wind caught the tassels Ziibi had dyed black and fashioned from sweet grass. The tassels sang with the voices of the ancestors. The entire village felt the power of the bear. They would be blessed. Uncle Ogaa gave a whoop. The time for bear steaks had come. The women served the sizzling steaks. The meat was good, not tough. After the meal, there was music. The men of Ajijaak¡¯s family were all skilled dancers. They chose to dance their story of killing the bear instead of speaking it. Azeho did not dance. He sat and watched the others. The reed flute began to play, and the soft sound of the gourd rattled. The men took their places. On silent feet the men kept time to the gourd. In slow circles they approached the fire. Suddenly Ziibi appeared holding the bear skull aloft. The firelight made the yellow on the skull glow with strange light. The flicker of the flames made the image of the bear on the skull look alive. Uncle Ogaa did not shoo the little girl away, so the dance continued.


    Ajijaak approached the bear skull just as he had done the real bear. In the audience he was sure he felt Miinan¡¯s eyes upon him. He spun and swirled as he thrust the spear at the bear and then he reached for his invisible bow and arrow. Ajijaak glanced at Miinan. Her eyes danced light for him. He almost lost his place, but kept going to finish the story. At this point in the dance Uncle Ogaa leapt forward with his spear and he thrust it at the bear skull. Ziibi did not even flinch. She held the skull firmly outward. The flute stopped, the gourd stopped just as the beating heart of the bear had stopped. Ziibi danced a small circle around Uncle Ogaa and handed him the skull. He took it from her and held it over his head. He brought the skull low and bowed. The villagers nodded their approval. Ziibi danced out of the ring of fire light.


    Ajijaak saw Mikinaak, Ziibi¡¯s father leave the circle. He was most likely going after Ziibi. She might be in trouble for spontaneously entering the dance without invitation. His worry over Ziibi was quickly eclipsed by a warm hand upon his bare shoulder. It was Miinan. The touch of her hand was brief but it sent a thunderbolt through him. She said, ¡°Meet me by the river.¡± Then she walked away toward the women. Though he listened to the men talk around him, his eyes constantly strayed to Miinan. He kept a watch out for her family too. Her father had returned with Ziibi. The little girl did not look upset, just very thoughtful.


    Finally, Miinan slipped away from the other girls. Ajijaak waited only moments before he ducked away from the men. His feet carried him so swiftly to the river; he arrived there before Miinan did. He watched her slowly saunter towards him. How lovely she looked in the star light. She came to where he stood. Her eyes looked up into his.


    The next thing he knew, Miinan slipped her hand in his.


    ¡°I love the way you dance. Everything your tongue cannot say, your body can dance it. The way you move is beautiful.¡±


    Confused by this sudden onslaught of compliments Ajijaak just stared at her. Something did not feel right. Without any more words, Miinan turned to him and wrapped her arms around him. He could feel the flight of her heart within her. He could feel the softness of her emerging breasts. His lips brushed against the hollow of her temple.


    A small voice asked, ¡°What are you doing?¡±


    It was Ziibi. ¡°If father catches you, it will be bad for both of you and worse for Ajijaak. Run home Miinan, before you do any more harm.¡±


    Miinan pulled away from him and hissed at her sister, ¡°You run home.¡±


    In a flat matter of fact voice, Ziibi said, ¡°No.¡±


    From further away, Ajijaak heard the voice of Miinan¡¯s mother calling out for her. She turned and immediately fled.


    Ziibi did not. She remained where she was staring at him. He turned away from her and started walking along the riverbank. She was instantly beside him. She only spoke one sentence. ¡°My sister has been promised to another and she is afraid she will not like him.¡±


    What? He spun around and faced Ziibi. Anxiously he signed, ¡°Promised?¡±


    ¡°Yes, when the villages meet, she will meet him. When she becomes a woman, he will come to live with us. My father has spoken and my mother has agreed. Miinan will not cross either of them and you know that.¡± She turned and ran up the path to the village.


    Stunned by her words Ajijaak watched her. As usual even in darkness she did not stumble over roots, rocks or pits in the trail. She moved as if she glided above the surface of the earth. When at last she disappeared from sight, Ajijaak turned his eyes to the river. It moved slow and liquid toward the Great Sea. Desperation pounded inside of him. He and Miinan could run away, they could move to another village. Yes¡­no, they could not, he could not leave his mother and noko. He must hunt for them, and care for them. He would not run away like his father had. But what could he do? How? Perhaps Miinan would remain a child a bit longer, perhaps a solution would present itself before her time of woman hood came upon her. He looked up at the sky and begged the spirits of guidance.


    A gentle wind caused the birch leaves to whisper secrets he could not understand.

 Chapter 17. The Smell of Blood

    Ajijaak was moving through the brush, checking his rabbit traps when he heard a familiar step in the woods. He looked up and saw a flash of dark hair and swift legs flying in the direction of the Great Sea. Miinan. Clutching the two dead rabbits that swung from the twine on his shoulder, Ajijaak ran after her. He tried to be as quiet as possible he was not sure she would want his company. Ahead, through the trees the waters of the Great Sea glistened. Miinan reached the shore, ran to her favorite spot, raised her arms to the sky called out, ¡°Giizhig-ikwe!¡±


    Why would she want the sky woman? Ajijaak stopped where he was and waited. The bodies of the rabbits had dripped blood on his legs and feet. He had been holding them too tightly when he ran.


    Miinan sunk down to her knees and began to weep. The sound of her crying went through Ajijaak. Without a thought for his own safety he went to her side, and laid one hand on her shoulder. She sprung away from him in surprise. Her blue-black eyes met his. They were wet with tears. He traced an invisible tear down his own face to ask her why she was crying.


    She shook her head. ¡°You should not be here Ajijaak, I should not be here. I have broken a promise of obedience. Ziibi is right, I can only do you harm. I am thankful for your friendship Ajijaak, but I should not have done what I did last night. I do not know what it was.¡± She paused and wiped her eyes. ¡°No, I do know what it was, I was afraid of my destiny and I wanted you to make me feel better. You always make me feel safe and cared for, but my father is Mide and he has spoken against you. I must follow what he says, I must trust that he would not choose badly for me.¡±


    Unable to express the complex feelings that tumbled around inside of him, Ajijaak shook his head furiously.


    ¡°No, do not be angry or foolish. I am sorry. I should not have encouraged you last night. I should not have hugged you.¡±


    All the anger and frustration in Ajijaak sputtered out of him in the only sounds he could make. Guttural and unintelligible, he was usually very careful not to make a single sound, but now, he had betrayed himself. Miinan stared at him. He saw in her eyes, pity and realization. She understood in that instant why her father would not let her be with Ajijaak.


    If he could have cursed he would have. If he could have swallowed the ugly sounds his mouth had just made he would have, but he could not.


    Miinan knocked  his hand off her shoulder and stood. ¡°I must get back, if mother finds me missing I will be punished.¡± She did not say more. She ran past him. On her dress were flecks of blood. Ajijaak glanced at the rabbits on his shoulder. The blood must have come from them.


    *


    As soon as her father had stepped into the canoe, Ziibi¡¯s mother left to go sulk. She did not like for her man to be gone. Father was leaving to spend his time alone to gather his strength. As he paddled away he gave Ziibi a nod. She waved her hand in response and watched him until his canoe disappeared. Though he had passed from her sight, Ziibi remained where she was listening to the soft voice of the river. She wished she could go with her father. Someday if she was accepted into the Midewiwin she would travel alone to spend time with the Great Mystery, to gain strength in the presence of this Being. Would it be scary, or peaceful? She sensed it might be both.


    Overhead, the sky turned bloody. Ziibi had a strange feeling in her gut. The spirits were restless. A power was approaching, a strong power. She looked up from her basket of pinecones and saw her sister running. Ziibi dropped her basket and headed after her sister. She ran behind the village and was making her way to the path where the graves were. Why would she be going in that direction?


    As Ziibi chased after her sister, she became aware of a strangeness in the air. The earth seemed to tremble beneath her feet. What was happening? What was Miinan doing? She called out, ¡°Miinan stop.¡±


    Immediately she did just that and turned to face her sister.


    ¡°Where are you going?¡±


    Dazed Miinan looked around her as if she did not know where she was. Ziibi went to her side. The air around her sister was potent. She could smell blood. She sniffed the air.


    ¡°What are you doing?¡± Miinan asked.


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    ¡°I smell blood.¡±


    ¡°Ajijaak must have gotten some of his rabbit¡¯s blood on me.¡±


    Anger flared in Ziibi. ¡°You were with Ajijaak again. How can you be so mean to him?¡±


    ¡°He followed me, I could not help it.¡±


    ¡°You mean you made sure he followed you.¡±


    Miinan blushed, but said, ¡°No, this time I did not do that. I feel so confused and scared. I just needed to look into the full face of Giizhig-ikwe. I promise I did not want Ajijaak to follow me.¡±


    Ziibi knew her sister did not lie, but something else was troubling her. The smell, the smell was not rabbit blood, but it was blood. She stepped closer and sniffed. The odor was coming from Miinan. ¡°You smell funny.¡±


    Miinan bit her lip. Her eyes opened wide. She thrust her hand up her dress. When she brought her fingers out, there was blood on them. Her eyes met her sister¡¯s. There was panic in them. Ziibi looked at her in amazement, did she not know what was wrong with her? Miinan stood mutely before her, her eyes filled with questions she did not utter. She dropped the hem of her dress and held her arms out stiffly on either side of her. She must not touch herself or another.


    Miinan¡¯s words about Ajijaak¡¯s rabbits rattled inside Ziibi¡¯s head. ¡°Did you touch Ajijaak?¡±


    Her sister¡¯s face became dark. ¡°No, but he touched me.¡±


    This was bad. A woman¡¯s first flow held powerful magic. It brought the power to bring life, but it also held the power to cause death. Noko had told them about a young man who had touched a girl during her first flow and he had died. Ajijaak must not die!


    ¡°Oh no, Ziibi, what have I done?¡±


    Ziibi did not answer her. There had to be someway for her to counteract her sister¡¯s stupidity. Ajijaak must not die. It was  said if a young woman walked barefoot through the grass during her flow, the grass would die beneath her feet. The power flowed through a young woman¡¯s skin.


    ¡°Did Ajijaak touch your skin?¡±


    ¡°I do not remember.¡± She frowned and thought hard. ¡°No, I do not think he did.¡±


    Ziibi said, ¡°I pray not. If Father were here I would ask him.¡±


    ¡°No, you would not.¡±


    This was selfishness, a selfishness she did not know her sister possessed. Ziibi said, ¡°You are more worried about being in trouble, than you are about Ajijaak¡¯s health? Ajijaak would not put such a small value on you.¡±


    Nonplused by her words Miinan said, ¡°Please, I am almost sure his skin did not touch mine.¡±


    Ziibi said, ¡°You must go into the hut, before you cause any more mischief.¡±


    ¡°Oh, Ziibi, I am afraid. I do not want to be there alone.¡±


    Ziibi who had no fear of aloneness asked, ¡°If you are not alone how can your visions come to you?¡±


    Miinan did not say more.The girls walked home in silence. Miinan kept her arms rigid at her sides. As they entered the village others saw her. They all knew by her posture what was happening. Ziibi saw Ajijaak. His eyes burned with a strange light as he watched Miinan. A terrible sinking feeling lodged itself in Ziibi¡¯s stomach. Something bad had already begun.


    In side the house Noko squatted by the fire. Two rabbits roasted on the spit. She turned her eyes to her granddaughters. She noted the rigidity of Miinan and asked, ¡°Has the time come?¡±


    Miinan nodded.


    Noko rose from the fire. She asked, ¡°Do you have your bundle ready?¡±


    Again Miinan nodded.


    ¡°Get it.¡±


    Miinan went to the pallet she shared with Ziibi. From a basket she lifted a bundle. It held all she would need for her time of seclusion. Ziibi noticed her sister¡¯s hands were shaking. She was very afraid. She had never realized how great her sister¡¯s fear of being alone was. Could this be the reason, she always made sure Ajijaak followed her?


    Noko told Ziibi, ¡°Tend to the rabbits and do not let them burn. Your mother does not like ashes for supper.¡±


    ¡°Yes, Noko.¡± Ziibi crouched by the fire and began to turn the spit. The rabbit flesh sizzled over the fire.


    Near the door flap was a basket full of dried leaves. Noko picked it up and said, ¡°I have been saving these for you. Come.¡±


    Silently Miinan followed her grandmother. There were fresh tears in her eyes. She ducked beneath the door flap and went out side.


    As soon as she could no longer hear Noko¡¯s step, Ziibi ran to the door flap and peeled it back just enough to look through. She did not know what was in the bundle Miinan carried, but it must be very heavy by the way she carried it. Ahead of Miinan, Noko scattered leaves. Leaves would protect the earth from the powers unleashed by a woman¡¯s first flow. What was it like to feel that kind of power? Ziibi thought about how strangely Miinan had been acting the past few days. What ever the power was it seemed to confuse the mind.


    The smell of burning flesh filled the house. Aggravated Ziibi quickly returned to the spit. The rabbit was only a little burned. Her mother came inside. Her mother sniffed the air and looked a Ziibi. ¡°Burning our supper again. It will be hard for your father to find a man for you, if you keep burning food. Everyone in the village can smell it, and they will tell the young men.¡±


    Ziibi jutted out her chin. ¡°There are two rabbits and I like mine well done.¡±


    ¡°Then you can have the burned part.¡± Her mother looked around the small house. ¡°Where is Noko?¡±


    ¡°She has taken Miinan to the hut.¡±


    ¡°The hut.¡± Her mother¡¯s eyes filled with strange light. ¡°It is good. She will be a woman before her young man comes.¡±

 chapter 18. Transgression

    The pallet was lonely without Miinan. It was also cold. There was no one for Ziibi to warm her feet against. She wanted to go crawl in bed with Noko, but Noko would not let her because she kicked too much and pulled the blankets off. Through the small hole in the roof that let out the smoke, Ziibi could see the stars. Was Miinan cold? Was she lonely and scared? Of course she was. What visions would come to her, what dreams? Beyond the walls of the house, she could hear the sounds of the night. An owl hooted, a wolf howled. Ziibi reached out her hand, but Mikwam was not there. It had been several days since she had last seen Mikwam. She called softly to her guardian. The wolf was instantly beside her. His eyes glowed like the moon. She said, ¡°Go, look after Miinan.¡±


    Mikwam shook out his silver coat, but he did not go. He spun around three times and lay down at the foot of Ziibi¡¯s pallet. He was not going to leave her. Ziibi sighed. Why did she keep trying to instruct a guide that only did what he wanted to? Who was watching over Miinan? She bet her sister was crying now. She closed her eyes and saw in her mind her sister¡¯s huddled form. Her shoulders were shaking. Her face was buried in her hands. A low fire burned in the hut. Poor Miinan. If only she loved her own company, now would be a good time, a time to be free from chores, a time to focus and find the path within her. Miinan¡¯s shoulder¡¯s shook harder. Unlike Ziibi was afraid to be alone.


    *


    The stars did not offer much light. If only Ajijaak had Ziibi¡¯s skill his left big toe would not be bleeding. He had tripped over a nasty cedar root and it had punctured his toe. He passed the graveyard without looking at it. The last thing he wanted to see was a spirit of an old neighbor or ancestor. Finally he reached the place where the menstrual huts were. It was a desolate place. He crept to the hut that had smoke coming from it. Inside he heard Miinan crying. How he longed to comfort her, to hold her and chase every fear away. Her sobs became more ragged. He could not bear it. He went to the hut opening, and pulled the flap back.


    Miinan screamed. She covered her face with her hands and said, ¡°Please do not hurt me. Please. I am poison, if you take me, you might die. Please.¡± Ajijaak, had not thought he would frighten her, but he had.


    Ajijaak tried to get her to look at him. She cowered before him. Would she not fight for herself, defend her purity? This confused him. He never knew her fear was paralyzing. He went to her and gently touched her robe.


    Again she cried out, ¡°Please, no, no, no.¡±


    He grasped her hands and pulled them from her face. Her eyes were screwed shut. If only he could get her to look at him. He blew into her face, her eyes popped open. The next instant she had her arms around him. Her tears wet his bare shoulder. This was the most important moment of his life thus far.


    ¡°I was so scared. Every noise I heard I thought it was some one or something coming to hurt me. It is so cold tonight and I do not like the sound of the wind. It sounds like spirits crying.¡± She shuddered against him.


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    Gently he stroked her hair. There was so much he wanted to say to her, but could not. His actions would have to speak for him. Did she understand what he was trying to tell her?


    All the sudden, she pulled away from him. ¡°Oh, Ajijaak, what have I done? Noko says a young woman can kill a man who touches her, when she has her first flow¡­¡± her voice trailed off and she blushed.


    He had been told the same tales, but he was not afraid. He had heard other stories, stories the men did not tell before women. Coarse stories about conquests, conquests that sickened Ajijaak. Too often men raped lone young women in their huts. Some men¡¯s hearts were fashioned only for lust his had been made for love, love of this woman who knelt before him. If he spent this night with her, if the sun rose upon them in the morning, he could claim her, as his own that was their way. He signed for her that he would stay.


    She shook her head. ¡°You should not be here. Ziibi is right I am selfish. I have used you. I am so sorry. Please you must leave before any more harm is done.¡± Her sweet lips trembled. She was trying so hard to be brave and unselfish. Deep down, he knew she was neither. He could stay, he could take advantage of this moment, but what would it cost them? Mikinak could annul their partnership. They could run away. She was still crying, how could he leave her? It was obvious she did not want him to. He did not want to. He motioned that he would stay, but he would not touch her.


    Behind him the door flap opened. He turned it was his own noko. How had she managed to come here in the dark? Stupid question, she was blind, she was always in the dark. She wagged her finger at him. In a hard voice she said, ¡°You are as foolish as your father. Has your mother not suffered enough? Would you disgrace her further? Here you are tempting the powers that be with your very life. The life that is most precious to your mother. Go home now; I have words to speak to this young woman. I will stay with her.¡±


    There was great wrath in Noko¡¯s tone. He dare not disobey her. With one last look at Miinan he fled. Miinan was scared and she should be, his noko was fierce and she would speak harsh truths. Anger and guilt coursed through him. He had brought this upon Miinan. He who only wanted to comfort her¡­no that was not true, he had also wanted to have her, to claim her and now, now that his noko knew of his transgression¡­what would happen?


    Ahead he saw the shadow of a wolf cross his path. The wolf turned and stared at him with his great glowing eyes. Eyes that seemed to speak to him. A small voice said, ¡°So you are still alive?¡±


    It was Ziibi. The wolf disappeared in the trees.


    Angrily he walked over to where she stood. Had she told on him? Had she told his noko? He grasped her hard with both hands. Her bright eyes looked up at him. They did not contain a trace of fear. They did contain something he could not name, something that was visible even in the dark. She remained very still, waiting to see what he would do next. He let go of her. She had done nothing. His noko had hearing ears and a seeing mind. She had not needed the help of this child to discover where he had gone.


    From her bag Ziibi took a bag made from the body of a gull. ¡°Come with me to the river. We must cleanse you from my sister¡¯s magic.¡±


    He remained where he stood.


    Her voice became suddenly stern. ¡°Be a fool if you must. No one can protect a man who chooses the fool¡¯s way. I feel sorry for you mother.¡±


    Again his mother. He must think of his mother. Ziibi little though she was, was honest in her desire to help him and protect him. He nodded.


    A look of relief came to her face. He followed her to the river. With strange words she smeared the gooey substance on his chest, arms and face. There was a rhythm in her voice as she spoke in the sacred language. He felt something dark lift from him as he washed himself in the river. Had Ziibi had taken the curse he had laid upon himself? Could a little girl do such a thing?

 Chapter 19. The Change

    The days of Miinan¡¯s confinement passed slowly for Ajijaak. He missed her so much but he did not dare go any where near the menstruation hut. Only the old women could tend to Miinan, no one else. He wondered if she had dreams, dreams of him. He dreamed every night of her. He dreamed they watched the sun rise together over the Great Sea. He was awake now, and all those dreams felt impossible. Around him where his traps, he moped as he checked them. Nearby his mother and his noko work on a deerskin blanket. It would keep them warm in the winter. He did not want to think about the winter. Where would he be, when it came? As much as he wanted to hope he would be tucked warm in that blanket with Miinan, he dare not hope it.


    Finally the day came when Miinan would return. He went early to the river and washed himself all over. He put on his best loincloth and braided sweet grass in his hair. He strung more around his neck. Excitement filled him. He hid in the shadow of their door flap; he did not want to miss her home coming. Foot steps sounded outside. Miinan¡¯s noko and her mother went down the path to the hut. Soon, very soon, he would see her.


    ¡°Ajijaak,¡± said his mother.


    He turned to her. She asked, ¡°Have you checked your traps?¡±


    He shook his head.


    ¡°I think you should.¡± There was obvious concern on her face. She knew whom he was waiting for. Had his noko told her what he had done? No, she would not do that. She would not make his mother worry unnecessarily. He strapped on his knife and went out to check his traps. Much to his relief only one trap had been sprung. Quickly he ran back home and gave the rabbit to his noko to skin. He resumed his place by the door flap. There was not any activity by Miinan¡¯s house, so she must not be back yet.


    The sun was at mid-sky when he saw Miinan approaching the village. She had lost weight. Her eyes had dark circles under them, still she smiled.


    Ziibi burst out of her house. She ran up the trail to greet her sister. Ajijaak watched her throw her arms around her sister. The two girls hugged fiercely. He heard Ziibi say, ¡°I missed you so much.¡±


    Miinan smiled a secret smile. For some reason it unsettled Ajijaak. What did that smile mean? He glanced around outside. Others were watching Miinan. His cousin Asaawe and their friend Azhe¡¯o both had sweet grass tied around their necks. Both watched Miinan with new appreciation. Jealousy burned in Ajijaak. He did not like them looking at her like that. Miinan was aware of their looks too. He saw her blush.


    He waited for them to pass his house. He waited for her to glance in his direction. She was almost there. His hungry eyes noticed everything about her. The way the sun caught on her hair, the way her hips moved. The beat of her heart in the hollow of her throat. He waited for her to give him the sly sideways glance she always gave him, but she passed by without even the vaguest flicker of an eyelash.


    Anger and hurt coursed through him like a swollen river. Had he not risked his very life for her the other night? Had he not comforted her at the risk of his family¡¯s safety? And she could not, would not even glance at him. Everything went red as he watched Miinan¡¯s back disappear behind her own door flap. He saw Ziibi¡¯s dark head. She turned to him. She saw him. The look she gave him was one of deep pity. He felt his noko¡¯s boney hand on his shoulder. He did not know how she moved so noiselessly. In a soft voice she said, ¡°Come Ajijaak, see what I have bitten.¡±


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    He took the folded birch bark from his noko. With trembling fingers he unfolded it. The bark was very thin. The bruises his grandmother¡¯s teeth had made on the bark revealed a young man in a canoe. Strange shapes and patters of circles were behind the man. What did this mean, did it mean anything, or was it just another of Noko¡¯s pictures?


    In a low voice she said, ¡°You are on a hard journey. The skills that have been given other young men have been denied to you. But the Great Mystery has placed inside of you skills that are rare and hard to discover. Do not loose heart if your path does not lead where you want it. Trust that it will lead you to who you are meant to be.¡±


    These words were not comforting.This was the third time a female had said something like this. These were just women¡¯s words. What did women know? They only dreamed of basket patterns and recipes. They did not dream of hunts and wars. They did not dream the dreams of man. He shoved he bark back into his grandmother¡¯s hands. She could keep her silly pictures.


    From Miinan¡¯s house he heard the sound of laughter and talking. Inside they were having a feast in her honor. This celebration was the one rare time, when a female was publicly esteemed.A woman had value because she could conceive and nurture life.


    Ajijaak turned and slipped out the back flap. Outside he broke into a run. He did not know where he was going, and he did not care.


    *


    Since Miinan returned from the hut, she had been different. A distance had grown between the sisters. Miinan now had secrets she did not share. As for Ajijaak, what Ziibi had feared had happened. It was hard to see him lurking in the shadow of his pride.


    This morning, she sat still on the flat stone looking down river. It had been many days since her father left and he had not returned. Her mother was beginning to worry, but Ziibi was not worried. He would be home when it was time. She felt it deep within her. What must be done was waiting and waiting was never easy. In some ways her father being gone felt like winter felt. It seemed to last forever and then one day a small breeze would blow that did not have so much ice in it. Things changed slowly. Her father was off restoring all he had given in the previous seasons so he would have more to give in the time to come. Like the trees he must drop his leaves for a while and let himself be alone and vulnerable.


    A chill ran through Ziibi. One day she would know what it felt like to have to gather strength and what it meant to be depleted of that strength, but not yet. She was still a child, and would remain so if the Great Mystery would permit it, but he would not. Growth was a part of nature as was change. Nothing could remain constant but the Great Mystery.


    Deep within her she felt a shift of strength and she knew that her father had set his sights on home. She did not know how far or near he was. Some said he went to the many rock water caves, others thought he went to one of the islands. No one knew for sure and he never said. Ziibi wondered what it was like to hear no other human voice, to only hear the voices of the earth and sky creatures. What was it like to speak to no one for days on end? Solitude was necessary and she suspected at times it was also painful. She had seen her father¡¯s weariness after tending to the ill. She had read his confusion when his sincere prayers and carefully made remedies had not worked. Did she want such a life? The question had begun to haunt her. What life did she want? Did she have a choice? If the story of Ajijaak¡¯s father was true, then yes, she had a choice. An ache welled within her. She had not asked to be born thus. She had not desired her sensitive nature. It had come to her, but for what purpose she did not know, nor did she understand. It would be so much easier to be like other girls. Other girl¡¯s thought of homes and cooking. She walked with a spirit guardian and could not cook rabbit without burning it. If she were such a bad cook, how would she prepare poultices and charms? Mikwam whined beside her.


    It was seldom that she saw him in the day. He knew she worried too much. He knew how much she longed to do what was pleasing. His nose brushed her knee. Inside all she wanted to do was run, and run hard. Mikwam kept her steady. He kept the fear from getting too big. What was she afraid of? Failure, disgrace and her own self. She wanted to do well in the world. She wanted to help people the way her father did. She wanted to offer them comfort and listening ears. Such things were expensive though. Her father had told her before he left, ¡°Once I did not honor the strength required to live as the Great Mystery chose me to live. Then, I had to learn and I thought I had learned my hard lesson, only I discovered there were more to learn. Our lessons come when we are ready to receive them. You must trust that little one.¡± He had tilted up her head and looked into her eyes. Concern had been written in his eyes as well as faith in her. He believed she was equal to the task, even though she was not sure. Her father was a wise man, he would not believe something that was not true. No, he would not.


    She stood and Mikwam disappeared into the brush. It was time she went home to do her chores. Mother would scold her for running off, but Noko would not. Noko understood that sometimes she needed to be alone.

 Chapter 20. What May Come

    It was raining. Ziibi liked the sound the drops made as they danced upon the birch bark house. She imitated the steps the raindrops made. Her mother looked out the door flap and sighed. Her sigh said more than words could. Father had still not returned and her angry worry was turning to fear. Miinan and Noko sat by the fire stringing porcupine quills onto long strings according to the colors they had dyed them. Ziibi¡¯s mother said, ¡°I hope he is not gone much longer. The other villages will be joining us in a few more days. What will they think if our medicine man is not here?¡±


    Noko said, ¡°They will think he has other things to do. Come sit down and do not worry. When it is time he will return.¡±


    Ziibi¡¯s mother did not move. She remained staring out the door flap. Ziibi stopped her dancing. Her mother said, ¡°Remember Miinan¡¯s young man is coming. I want Mikinaak here.¡±


    Hearing this news, Miinan¡¯s dropped a quill. Her face turned bright red. Her eyes went to the ground and she groped for a quill that was right before her, but she did not see it.


    Noko said, ¡°He will come. Worry will not hurry his canoe along the river.¡±


    Ziibi¡¯s mother scowled and stepped out into the rain. Noko sighed. There were times when Ziibi wondered if Noko liked the mate his son had chosen. Usually Noko and Ziibi¡¯s mother got along well enough, but not always.


    Having finally found the stray quill Miinan slid it onto her string. She asked, ¡°Have you seen the young man Noko? Do you know about his family?¡±


    Noko smiled. ¡°Yes, they are good people. I have known them since your father was young. Their men are strong and kind. You can be happy if you choose to honor your partner.¡±


    Ziibi saw her sister blush. Miinan asked, ¡°Are they handsome?¡±


    ¡°Child, that is not what matters. What matters is that they are good and they walk an honorable path.¡±


    A frown tugged at Miinan¡¯s lips but she did not give way to it. If her Noko saw her make a face, she would be scolded. Miinan, pretty herself liked pretty things and pretty people. Ziibi bet she was afraid she would have ugly children. What did it matter if they were ugly, as long as they were good? It would matter to Miinan.


    Suddenly Noko laughed. ¡°Miinan, do not worry, some are blessed with goodness and pleasing looks. You are such a person, perhaps your young man will be too.¡±


    All at once Ziibi thought of Ajijaak. He was a good and pleasing to look at, but he was not whole. How would he respond to Miinan¡¯s future mate? His heart would suffer. There was no way for it not to. It would be very hard for him. Ziibi wanted to protect him to help him, but what could she do? She could pray. Yes she could pray, Father said there was power in prayer.


    She turned her ears back to the rhythm of the rain upon the roof. Her feet began to dance to its rhythm. As she danced she prayed that Ajijaak¡¯s good nature would not be spoiled by the bitterness or anger loosing Miinan would cause him. With all that was within her she prayed his heart would heal and that he would find the life that had been designed for him. All at once she felt as if the sky had opened up and poured hope into her. She did not know how Ajijaak would be protected from his own heart, but she had hope, that he would. The world was filled with mystery and paths that lead to good as well as evil. Ajijaak must choose the good path. He must. Outside she heard the spirits sing with the wind that blew the rain.


    Still sorting and stringing quills Miinan sat silent beside Noko. Her eyes were staring far away. Her face was still flushed. She did not even see Ziibi. She did not see anything. Was she thinking of her young man? Most likely. Ziibi wondered, What will it be like to share our home with him? This young man would come between her and her sister. He would share her sister¡¯s bed the way her father shared her mother¡¯s bed. Where would Ziibi sleep? Pushed against the edge of the wall she suspected. She would have to keep herself warm when winter came. Anger filled her. She did not want to give up her sister. Her concern for Ajijaak completely left her, as self-concern echoed deep inside of her. Nothing would be the same, once the young man came, nothing would ever be the same. He would put a baby in Miinan somehow and Ziibi would loose her place as the youngest in her family. The young man¡¯s coming would not be good, at least not for her.


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    Wet and Irritable her mother came back inside. Sharply she said, ¡°Ziibi stop jumping around. Find something quiet to do.¡± She sighed as she dried herself off with a mat. To Noko she said, ¡°I hope your son is not on the river. This rain is making it swell and making it flow more swiftly.¡±


    Ziibi knew he rain was not coming down hard enough to increase the flow of the river, nor was it falling at a pace that would make the river swell. Her mother was just worried. Noko did not speak. She motioned for Ziibi to come join her by the fire. Reluctantly she went. She did not like to string quills.


    *


    With excitement Ziibi threw on her elk cape and raced outside. The people were coming, and soon her father would come too. The people were traveling by canoe and on foot to join together to celebrate and compete with each other in foot and canoe races, tree and rock climbing, and join in dancing and singing. There would be stories and handicrafts to share. Other Midewiwin would be there too, and she would see them. As Ziibi ran down the trail people were greeting each other. She recognized one man to be a friend of her father¡¯s Bizhiw. Beside him, walked his son, Maang. He had grown much since last year. He was as tall as his father. Bizhiw called to her, ¡°Ziibi, how are you?¡±


    She stopped abruptly almost falling forward in her haste. ¡°I am good.¡±


    He asked, ¡°Where is your father?¡±


    ¡°He is not home yet.¡±


    Bizhiw looked annoyed. ¡°Not home yet, but he knows we have much to discuss.¡±


    Ziibi noticed that Maang¡¯s color changed slightly. In that instant she knew, this was the man her father had chosen for Miinan. This would be her mate. He was a handsome boy with shining black braids and a broad chest. His face had strong lines, but not so strong as to be ugly. His eyes were kind, and they were glowing.


    Behind her Ziibi¡¯s mother said, ¡°My man said he would be home soon.¡± Ziibi did not know her mother could move so swiftly. She said,¡°You two have much to discuss to arrange the union of our children.¡± Bizhiw only nodded.Miinan who followed her mother heard what she said. A look of relief, then joy stole across her features. She smiled at Maang and he returned her smile. Ziibi felt something pass through her, what it was she did not know, but something binding had just taken place.


    Not wanting to waste anymore time listening to things that did not concern her, Ziibi nodded to her elders and dashed away from the group. Now that she knew whom Miinan would share her life with, she was not so worried. Maang had always been nice to her. Last summer he had not laughed at her like the other boys had when she tripped during a dance. Even Ajijaak had wiped a smile from his lips. It had angered her. She never tripped and she still didn¡¯t understand why she tripped then.


    On swift feet she ran to the river. A single canoe glided silently toward shore. In it was two women, Midewiwin. She recognized them immediately. They wore fine skins decorated with quills in the most brilliant shades of yellow and purple Ziibi had ever seen. Their long black braids were wound around with tiny rose-colored shells. Their faces had fine boned jaws and large foreheads from which their black hair was swept back. In unison they turned their eyes upon Ziibi and smiled. As the slid their canoe up to the bank they said, ¡°So, Little One, we have heard that you have a calling.¡±


    Ziibi was awestruck by these tall women. They held themselves straight and moved with grace onto the bank. Up close she could see the strands of gray that silvered their hair. Fine lines creased their smiling dark eyes. As they passed the still gaping Ziibi, each patted her on the head. Ziibi expected to feel some power pass from their hands onto her head, but that did not happen. All that happened was that she felt the warmth of their palms and the kindness of their hearts. Would she someday be like them? If she were accepted as Midewiwin, she would be sent to study with a woman. Would it be one them? Dismay filled her. To be taught by any woman would mean leaving home. There were no female Midewiwin anywhere near their village. She did not want to leave home, even for a little while to learn what she might need to learn. Home was not a single place to her. They had their summer and their winter places where they lived. They also had the place they stayed when the maple sap began to run. Home was her mother, father, sister and noko. She wanted their unit to be as it always had been. She glanced up the trail at the women¡¯s tall figures. Beyond them she saw Miinan and Maang. A sob tore through her throat. Her life, her family was about to change and she did not want it! If only Maang would go away!


    Careless of her direction she raced through the trees, climbed boulders and chased the river down stream. In her headlong rush, she heard someone call her name. On the river in his canoe was her father. He saw her tears. He slid the canoe along side her. ¡°What troubles you?¡±


    All she could do was shake her head.


    Her father climbed out of the canoe and splashed through the water, pulling it behind him. When he had placed it on the bank, he went to her and gathered her in his arms. She heard the beat of his heart and felt the warmth of him. He tilted her face up and asked again, ¡°What is wrong?¡±


    In a shuddering voice she said, ¡°I do not want things to change.¡±


    ¡°Change is a natural flow of life.¡± He let go of her chin and looked into her eyes. ¡°It requires a stretching and letting go, a receiving of things that are unfamiliar and sometimes frightening. You have met every change that life has brought you and you will continue to do so.¡±


    Would she? She did not know. All the changes she had faced thus far had been made in the presence of her family. Now even that was about to change.


    Her father said, ¡°Come your mother is waiting and we must go.¡± With her help he pushed the canoe back into the river. Ziibi climbed inside. She felt the buoyancy of the canoe and flow of the water beneath its birch bark. She had been named after this river. It had given her a name and it had carried her to many places. It had brought those Midewiwin women to their village. Where would it take her next? For now, it was taking her home.

 Chapter 21. Gift of the Spirits

    Ajijaak had climbed an oak tree to watch. He was waiting for one person, the person who would take Miinan. He did not know he had missed him already. Every young man he saw caused a stab of jealousy to pierce through him. He had told his mother he was going to hunt, and hunting he was. He was hunting for the one who would claim what belonged to him. He had no clear plan as to how to keep what would happen from happening, but he knew he must try. Something. His prayers had not been answered; the spirits and his ancestors had not appreciated his gifts. He blamed his father. It was his father who had offended the unseen forces? How could he break through and prove that he was not who his father had been?


    A small voice below said, ¡°He has already come, so you might as well get down.¡±


    Ziibi stood below. Her face turned up, her eyes slits of concern.


    Embarrassment coursed through him. His face flushed hot. He thought he had hid himself so well. How had he missed the coming of that boy? Acting as if, he had not been doing what he had in fact been doing, he climbed down slowly so his face would cool and Ziibi would not see his embarrassment. He swung from a low branch and landed at Ziibi¡¯s small feet.


    She looked up at him and said, ¡°He is Maang.¡±


    Not Maang! Maang had always been good to him. He had always been his friend when the villages gathered. Never had Maang made fun of him or excluded him like other boys had. Many times they had raced each other and played.Physically their strengths were matched. The only thing that Ajijaak did better than Maang was dance, and the only thing that Maang could do that he could not was talk. He had been waiting to see his friend, waiting to spend time with him. Maang always understood even his most subtle signs. How had his friend so quickly become his enemy? As his mind raced he forgot all about Ziibi. He had not idea she was reading his changing eyes as his mind traveled from one thought to another.


    In a soft voice the little girl whispered, ¡°Only you have the power to make him your enemy. He does not have to be.¡±


    Angrily he glanced down at the child. What did she know? She was just a little girl. He strutted away from her, his mind racing down paths of conquest. He would show Miinan, he would show the entire gathering that no one was superior to Ajijaak in physical skill. Though he boasted inside himself, he could not hush the voice inside of him that said, you cannot win this. His heart pushed the thought away. He did not even hear the last word of the phrase. It said, you cannot win in this. It did not say, he could not win in something else, something more appropriate for him and his station in life. He still had the arrogance and the tenacity to cling to his own dream.


    *


    They were in the meadow. The summer flowers lifted their faces to the sun. All around the course the people stood, waiting, watching to see who would be the swiftest.The earth beneath Ajijaak¡¯s feet was still soft from the recent rain. He would have to be vigilant. Last night he had carefully gone over the ground checking it for rabbit holes, or jutting rocks. He knew where the dangers were and he would avoid them. He looked ahead to the poles the runners would race toward. On either side of him, were his neighbors and cousins. The only one he was aware of was Maang. He kept him just within the field of his vision. Had Maang gotten faster since last year or slower? Long legs did not guarantee speed, but they could.


    His uncle Ogaa shouted and the line of young men lurched forward. Ajijaak thrust himself forward, in that single second his body became fluid.It moved like rushing floodwater in the river. It took him a few moments to gain momentum and then pass the other men, but they were close and he could sense the nearness of Maang, but he dare not look back, lest he loose his advantage. The pole was in sight, he raced passed it, but just barely ahead of Maang. As the two panted for breath at the end, Maang said, ¡°I will get you next time.¡± Ajijaak looked up at him, but he did not smile. Maang would not get him, not this year. Maang¡¯s smile left his face, momentarily, and then it suddenly brightened as he stood. Ajijaak looked in the direction of his gaze and he saw Miinan, smiling and waving at Maang. Bitter envy surged through Ajijaak. Jealousy was dark enough, but envy wanted to hurt. Miinan did not even see him, did not even care that he had won. Angrily he turned away. Perhaps the next contest would gain her attention. Perhaps.


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    Though he did not look back as he walked from the meadow into the trees, he knew, Maang was headed for Miinan. He knew that before many more nights Miinan would be lost to him forever. Was there nothing he could do? Was there any magic that could win her heart? He thought of the two Midewiwin women who had arrived. It was rumored they sold love potions, could they make one for Miinan, one that was strong enough to make her disobey her parents decree? Would they dare to cross Mikinak? No. And how could he seek love potions when he had no voice to communicate what he wanted. Hot shame at his limitations burned inside him. The truth was that even if he won all the contests it would not change what he had seen on Miinan¡¯s face. She delighted in Maang. She did not delight in him.


    *


    That evening Ajijaak did not dance. He kept to the outer edges of the people. From behind a birch tree he watched the others move in time to the sacred drum. Usually his entire body would be lured by the beat of the drum, but not this night. He felt nothing, the nothing of being empty, of being denied. The nothing was greater than any pain he had known. He saw his mother among those watching from the sideline. Beside her was Zhede. So, he had come again.Zhede wanted to mate with his mother. The past two gatherings he had come to woo her. So far it had not worked. In the past Ajijaak had been glad. Now, now he wished his mother would accept Zhede as her partner. If she would Ajijaak could leave this village. He could go and never have to see the life Maang would share with Miinan.


    A withered hand touched him. It felt like his Noko¡¯s. It was uncanny the way she so often sensed his moods. He looked down. The hand upon his arm was Ziibi¡¯s. How did this child have the power of an old woman¡¯s hand? Her dark eyes stared up at him. Her eyes were filled with unshed tears. In a choked voice she asked, ¡°Why are you not dancing?¡± A tear slipped from her lashes and slid down her face. It reached her chin and plopped onto her dress.


    The tear angered him at the same time it caused compassion to flow through him, compassion that momentarily banished the vast nothingness inside. He ran his finger a long the wet trail her tear had made. He formed a single word with his mouth, aiiin, which means why. Why was she crying?


    Her small brown hand obliterated the wet trail on her face. A tremor went through her body. ¡°I cry for you.¡± More tears splashed down her face.


    The multitude of tears unsettled Ajijaak. Neither his mother, nor his Noko were emotional. The little imp. He knew that she knew, and her knowing angered him. He turned abruptly away from her and headed deep into the darkness of the forest. She would not follow him, at least he hoped she would not. It was Miinan that he wanted to follow him but she never would. As he strode swiftly into the night, he listened for small steps behind him and was relieved when he heard nothing. For a long while he walked. Finally, he came to the Great Sea. Its dark liquid called to him. It whispered lies of escape. The voice of the destructive Snake King was in the waves. No, he would not listen. He turned away from the Great Sea and headed to his left back up among a grove of white cedars. The dead ones¡¯ trunks looked like white wraiths holding out their arms to the night. The nothing inside of him did not grow but shrank as his heart began to hammer inside of him. Something evil was near, something that had once tempted his father and it wanted him. It wanted to steal from him all that it had stolen from his father. For the first time in his life he came in contact with the evil that tempts men to destruction. It was a lie, he knew it was a lie, but a part of him wanted so badly what he wanted he was almost ready to meet this unseen presence and let it take him where it would.


    The twitch of a branch behind him startled him. He turned. In the starlight he saw the form of a great wolf. His eyes glowed with silver light and his hair stood on end tipped in silver. At first Ajiijaak thought this was the evil personified, but then the wolf tilted back his head and howled. The howl echoed inside of Ajijaak¡¯s body. It called out the nothing and the fear and made way for the deep hurt of his disappointment to flow from him. Like Ziibi, tears spilled from his eyes. He crumbled to the ground and released a heart shuddering moan. Why was he not loved by who he loved? Why must he be denied this? Sobs shook his body. The wolf howled again. Somewhere near the Great Sea another wolf answered. And so the wolves began to howl their night song.


    Though the drum had not been able to reach him, this haunting music began to throb in Ajijaak¡¯s blood. It lifted him up. In slow circular motions he began to dance the song of the wolves, the song ached within him, it reached his greatest hurt. Though his eyes were blurred by tears, and it was dark, he did not stumble in this dance. It flowed out of him like a gift, a gift from the spirits.

 Chapter 22. Change

    On quiet feet Ziibi followed Ajijaak. She did not trust him in this state. She had angered him, and though his anger hurt her, it did not make her shrink from him or reject him. It just made her that much more determined to watch over him. Her mind raced with prayers for him, prayers to keep evil from tempting him to some stupid action. She had listened to the stories of her noko and she knew that there were spirits that tempted young men when defeat had come. In the forest they waited for Ajijaak to humiliate him. Like a small light in a great dark, she ran silently after him. Words came to her mind, ¡°Oh protect the wound of his heart, do not let evil enter in. Meet him, Healing Spirits in the night of his lost hope.¡±


    By the Great Sea she saw him stop. She waited. The air seemed to vibrate with unseen forces. Her throat grew thick and would not let sound pass through it when she tried to shout a warning to him. He turned away from the water and ran to the white cedars. There, the wind sang. There Mikwam appeared, and much to Ziibi¡¯s astonishment Ajijaak saw him. Mikwam howled and howled again. Though Ziibi did not hear the howl of the answering wolf, she suddenly felt a change. Slowly in complicated circles Ajijaak began to dance. It was a beautiful dance of self-surrender. His feet tapped to the rhythm of Ziibi¡¯s heart. His arms moved gracefully like the wings of a great bird. His head wagged from side to side in time with his feet. He was consumed by an inner chant. The Healing Spirits were present.She had never seen anything like this dance before. It seemed choreographed by someone from the Path of Souls. Mikwam continued to howl in measured segments. Far away, caught in the wind and tossed into her ears, she heard the answering howl of another wolf. Deep peace settled over her. Some how it was all right. Her prayers had been heard. Ajijaak was enclosed in a power beyond his home. He was safe, at least for now.


    A hand touched her shoulder. Another closed over her mouth before she could gasp out her fear. The hands were familiar. A soft voice said, ¡°You should not be here.¡± It was Ajijaak¡¯s noko. The old woman took her hands away from Ziibi¡¯s mouth and shoulder. She motioned for her to follow. In complete silence, the blind old woman led Ziibi back to village. The music drifted in the air. Though the sound of the pipes still sang and the gourds still rattled, the drums were silent. Around the fire old men sang. Ziibi heard the high-pitched whine of their voices filter through the birch and oak trees. She thought Ajijaak¡¯s noko was taking her to the others but she did not. She took her to the tent of the female Midewiwin.


    No, not this place, she was afraid of this place. Since they had come she had avoided these two women. Deep inside she sensed they had the power to change her life and she did not want her life changed. Her step slowed and her heart began to beat hard. In the faint glow of their smoking fire she saw the gaze of their bright eyes gaze in the dark. Smoke curled around them like spirits of protection. Their ears were alert to the sound of Ziibi and the noko¡¯s coming. They turned their faces in unison to the sound of their step.


    Ajijaak¡¯s noko entered the small circle of light that held the women. She said, ¡°I have found her.¡±


    ¡°Thank you, Aamoo.¡±


    The old woman bowed and left Ziibi¡¯s side. Bereft, Ziibi¡¯s eyes went to the ground. Her body trembled. What did these women want with her? Would their tidings be ill or good?


    In a soft voice one of the women said, ¡°Do not be afraid child. Come sit by our fire.¡±


    Ziibi did as she was told. Cautiously she raised her eyes to meet the women. Their faces were very similar. Were they sisters? Twins? Ziibi had never seen twins before. They seldom survived in this harsh world.


    One had a small scar on her cheek she said, ¡°Yes, we are sisters, but not twins. Did you know you are one of us?


    Ziibi nodded.


    The one with the smooth cheek asked, ¡°Has your father told you about us?¡±


    Struggling to find her voice Ziibi said, ¡°Only that you are from his family, his cross cousins and that you are greatly respected for your healing powers.¡±


    The women both nodded. ¡°Did he tell you that when you are of age, you will come to live in our village and we will teach you healing and prayer?¡±


    ¡°Yes, if I am approved.¡±


    ¡°Yes, if you are approved. Tomorrow night, they will meet and your father will present you.¡±


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    Ziibi had known about this meeting. It was the most important event of the gathering of the people, but she had not known she would be present at it. No one had told her she would be presented so soon. She thought she still had time. Time to just be a child. Once she was accepted, if she was accepted, her childhood would end. It was too soon.


    The scar-cheeked woman said, ¡°It is not too soon. Many things have come to you already and you must be guided before you get lost in the temptations of your own power. Power must be directed properly so it will not do harm to you are to others.¡±


    The smooth cheeked sister said, ¡°I am Mitigomin, and this is my sister, Mitigomizh. Tonight, we will chant for you. We will ask the Great Spirit to guide the Midewwiin to the best choice for you and for the people. Just because we think you have a gift and your father thinks you do too, does not mean that you will be accepted. The will of the Midewiwin will decide your worthiness. Whatever they choose we will abide by. Only they can determine by divine guidance whether or not you would do harm or good as a member of the Midewiwin.¡±


    Insulted Ziibi busted out, ¡°I would not do harm!¡±


    The Mitigomin smiled. ¡°We all do harm, but to be Midewiwin your good must out weigh the harm. What will be entrusted to you if you are chosen is sacred and it must not be abused. So much damage has been done by those who have abused their gifts and the powers they have learned.¡±


    Mitigomizhnsaid, ¡°No man likes to have his heart read out loud to him. A woman must read his heart and ask for guidance in speaking to his hurt. Speaking his hurt to his face only causes him to draw away. A man likes to have his secrets. He does not want his weakness spoken of or even noticed. You must release your hold on him. He must find his own way.¡±


    Though so young Ziibi knew and felt anguish akin to the anguish Ajijaak had felt among the cedars. He had been to her what Miinan had been to him, and now she must release the desire of her soul as well. She could not hold him though she wanted to so badly. To do so, she knew deep within her would do him damage. He had been damaged enough. Her love for him must outweigh her selfishness. It was very hard. She was so young, and yet, she knew that it was what she must do. Silently, with tears filling her eyes she nodded her ascension.


    The tent flap opened and her father walked in. He asked, ¡°May I take her home now?¡±


    The Mitigomizh and Mitigomin nodded.


    Unexpectedly Mikinak picked up Ziibi. Her tears splashed on his bare shoulder. He held her close. She buried her face in the softness of his neck. He smelled of pipe smoke. As he carried her out she felt the beat of his heart. It was steady and strong. In a soft voice he said, ¡°You will do well, my child. You will do well.¡±


    Her father¡¯s faith in her soothed her. He had never spoken such an affirmation over her. Still, even such sweet words could not take the sting out of what she had just released. She felt hollow, lost, devoid of all she had been.


    *


    Dressed in his finest clothes, Ajijaak stood very still. On his leggings were sewed copper bells and seashells. His elk loin skin was covered with intricate designs of porcupine quills died in bright reds, blues and yellows. His chest was bare, but his face was painted. On his arms were more copper bells tied to strings. Around his neck was a plate of quills. Behind him was the lodge that had been built to hold the secrets of the Midewiwin. Its walls were thick and it looked like a fortress among the trees. Ziibi shivered inside. Soon she would be in that building, soon she would be presented.


    The sound of the drum began to beat calling the people. Ajijaak began to move in time with the drum. His body was not his own, but belonged to the song of the drum, the sacred drum that called all the forces of good and repelled the forces of evil. This was Ajijaak¡¯s first time to lead the dance. As he moved, Ziibi¡¯s fear left her. He was dancing the dance of the howling wolves. He was dancing the dance he danced when he saw Mikwam. Did he see Mikwam now? Ziibi looked around for her guardian, but she did not see him. Her eyes returned to Ajijaak. She noticed the dark circles beneath the paint around his eyes. She saw the heaviness of his step and she understood what it meant to continue to do the work he was created for despite the hollowness of his heart. Her heart was hollow, yet here she stood beside her father, dressed in her best dress to face what ever destiny the Great Spirit had called her to. Her mother was not happy about her being introduced into the Midewiwin and that was to be expected. She had not voiced her protest or her displeasure, but she made it very obvious by her posture and her behavior. As she stood watching, every bit of her mother made clear she did not want her youngest child to be part of Midewiwin.


    When the dance had finished, the Midewiwin went inside of the lodge. It smelled of fresh birch bark and cedar. A small fire smoked in the center of the room. The old men took their places first. Their lined faces and gnarled hands testaments to the rigorous lives of prayer and devotion that they had lived. Those next in age sat, then others, then the women. Ziibi remained standing with her father.


    The oldest and most powerful Midewiwin, Waaside said in a low voice, ¡°Girl you will be considered for apprenticeship and future practice. All that happens within these walls and all that will be given to you in power, magic and spirit will remain secrets that you will not share until you are permitted to teach the next generation. So now, all that enters your mind and heart will be forever sealed from common knowledge. To share our secrets is to betray all people and the honor of your family. Seal your lips and your mind to the events that are about to take place. Will you swear to do so?¡±


    Ziibi nodded. It was a promise she would keep until the day she died.

 Chapter 23. Release

    The dance left his body. While he had followed the steps he felt caught up in a power greater than himself, a power infinitely good and wise. He had danced alone and yet he had not been alone. In fact he had not been alone since the night he danced the song of the wolves. He did not understand it and was wise enough not to try. He stood very still, only his chest rose and fell as he took air into his body. Behind him was Miinan. He knew it, felt it, but he would not turn to her. He had released her the night the wolves had sang, and he would not go backwards. Slowly the Midewiwin were filing into the lodge. One small figure was with them. Ziibi? Of course. She was Midewiwin, why had he not realized this before? Was she afraid? He would be afraid, afraid of the power that might be bestowed or the rejection that might come instead. Ziibi¡¯s small back was very straight and her neck stiff. Her eyes focused forward. Her hair was combed into smooth braids. He thought he saw her tremble, but he knew she would not cry. She was very small but very brave. The lodge¡¯s door flap closed.


    Behind him, the people began to talk and break up into groups.He had no desire to listen to the fluent voices of others while his own thoughts could only be conveyed in signs. Signs did not give him enough words, only when he danced did he feel the ability to fully communicate what his heart wanted to say. Tonight in the wolf dance he had spoken, as he had never been able to speak before. He glanced across the crowd, careful to avoid the sight of Miinan. He saw his mother standing beside Zhede. They were together much these days. It meant something, he knew, but he did not want to think about that. Silently, he moved away from the people and slipped into the shadows of the forest. The sounds of evening were soft as the day creatures settled in for sleep and the night creatures awoke.


    His feet carried him toward the Great Sea while his mind raced from one thought to another. Just before he reached the water he saw her. A magnificent she wolf bathed in evening¡¯s fire. She glowed. Slowly she turned toward him. Their eyes met. Her amber gaze was steady, firm and without fear. He stopped where he was and waited to see what she would do. She turned away from him and ran along the rocky shore. Her movement did not display fear or invite company. How fluidly she moved. Her steps were steps Ajijaak subconsciously mimicked. In the distance she stopped and she howled. He recognized the voice. She was the one who had howled to the big male wolf he had seen the other evening. They were the ones who had given him the dance.


    For a long while he wandered the shoreline dodging waves. Music was in the water. Beneath the surface the Snake King slept. Ajiiaak recalled Ziibi¡¯s bold declaration that she could defeat the Snake King. Silly child. Or was she? He had to admit there was something very different about her, a knowing, a seeing, that he had never witnessed in anyone else. He thought of another declaration she had made to him, about her love for him. Silly child. When she was older she would see that being tied to a broken vessel was not an honor but a curse. Until the night the wolves sang to him, he had believed he was as other men, now he could admit he was not, he might never take a wife, he might never have children. He did not want children that did not belong to Miinan, and Miinan would never belong to him. He picked up a fist of small stones and tossed them into the water. They clattered like heavy rain. Tiny rings of water rippled through the waves. A slim dark body rose to the surface. It lifted its head. It was a snake. Not the Snake King, just a common water snake, but it might be one of the Snake King¡¯s scouts. He turned away from the Great Sea and headed back toward home. The sun had set and the path was dark. Ahead was the Midewiwin lodge.


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    The door flap opened allowing a thin slice of light to shoot through the night. In this shaft of light Ziibi appeared. Her figure was very still. She did not seem to be breathing. Had things gone badly? Compassion and curiosity propelled him toward her, but before he could reach her, she launched herself into the night. Her swift sure feet carried her up the trail and toward her home. Had she been accepted or rejected, or was that something that had yet to be decided? As he passed the lodge, he heard the sound of low voices, the words were indistinguishable, in fact they were foreign. He had never heard this language before. Was this one more of the Midewiwin¡¯s secrets? A holy hush seemed to hover around the structure. A power that quelled his curiosity sent him running toward his own home, slightly afraid. What was this thing that would soon claim Ziibi? He knew enough of the supernatural to give him a healthy respect, but he did not know how to utilize the power, nor did he want to. He thought of Ziibi and her bright eyes and her uncanny intuitions. She saw and knew far more than her scant years on earth had taught her. The life ahead of her would be hard, but some how he felt deep inside she would be equal to what life brought her.


    When he reached his house, he quietly slipped through the door flap. Seated by the small central fire was Zhede. He looked up at Ajijaak and smiled. Ajijaak did not return his smile. He looked to his mother who was seated beside Zhede. Never had his mother invited a man to sit by their fire. His mother¡¯s eyes were steady. They spoke to him words she would not say aloud. Why had she not told him that at last she had chosen her new mate? She should have told him. He knew she was still young enough to have more children, other sons. The thought of this tore through him, he had been his mother¡¯s one child, what would it be like to share her? Then he thought of his half prayer, half hope that his mother would accept Zhede so he could leave the village. He had wished this and it had swiftly come. His other wishes were denied. Why was this one accepted so swiftly?


    His questions were stilled by his mother¡¯s gaze. There was something in her eyes that was not about him, but about the man beside her and about herself. Did his mother have the same sort of longings he had? Did she want a full life with another? Yes, she did. Her expression told him so. Ajijaak turned from his mother to Zhede. He nodded his ascent. There was nothing else he could do. He saw his mother¡¯s body visibly relax. Her face broke out in the light of joy. Ajijaak did his best to meet her joy, but it hurt him deeply. What would it be like to no longer be the man of the family?


    The sound of his noko¡¯s snores drifted from her bed. He went to his blankets beside her and rolled himself in his blanket. Sleep did not come. The soft whispered of his mother kept him awake. After awhile heard his mother and Zhede come together across the room. When his own father had left he had been too small to hear or remember the sounds a man and a woman made when they shared their bodies. He started to get up and make them stop, but the grip of his noko¡¯s hand upon his wrist stilled him. In a low voice she said, ¡°Let it be. You hear the sounds of life rushing into life. One day you will know the burden and the joy of such things. Now, peace, be still, let your mother be. It is time she recalls her womanhood and forgets the barren past.¡±


    Though he lay back down sleep refused to meet him. He covered his ears with his hands. It was not his mother and Zhede he heard. It was Maang and Miinan that his imagination conjured and it was painful. He could not bear the thought of them and yet some how he must, or must he? Now he would not be the man of any house, now his mother and his noko would not have to depend solely on his provision. While the loss of his status was tinged with bitterness, it was also tinged with relief. Tomorrow he would talk to his mother. Tomorrow, he would plan to go his own way.He would not stay to see Miinan partnered to Maang. He had borne much in his life, but he would not bear that. There were other villages. Suddenly, a new life now stretched before him. A strange joy mixed with sorrow rose within him. He would have the freedom now to dream his dream, and find his destiny. No longer would he be hindered by his love for Miinan. What would his future hold?

 Chapter 24. Falling Tears

    Ziibi sat in the high branches of the old oak tree. All around her were the songs of morning birds. She heard the flit of their wings and saw their small bodies swoop among the branches. Her heart was heavy. She had awoken that morning knowing the tide of life was about to turn. Would it be good or ill? Below she saw her noko preparing breakfast. She also saw that Zhede came out of Ajijaak¡¯s house. So, his mother had taken another partner for life. What would that mean? In an instant she knew. It meant Ajijaak would go. He was old enough to follow his own trail and make his own way. Soon he might pass from her life all together. It had been one thing to give him up, another to let go of him entirely. How would she know if he was doing well or ill? Who would look after him? A man, especially a young man needed someone to tend to him. What if he got sick or hurt?


    A breeze whispered around her. It stirred her unbound hair and brushed against her eyes. A voice that seemed to be the wind whispered, ¡°I will hold him, I will guide him.¡±


    When Ziibi saw her father leaving for the Midewiwin lodge, she climbed down from the tree. He came swiftly toward their house. His stride was firm, even and joyous. Ziibi knew then, that she had been accepted. She reached the bottom branch of the oak and leapt to the ground. Her father saw her. He did not speak. All he did was slightly nod his head. The gesture declared her future. She would have to go to the lodge now and be formally accepted. She did not want to go. She did not want to dress up again and have her hair tightly braided. What she wanted to do was run from this destiny. Her heart raced inside of her. Again the wind wrapped itself around her. Though it did not speak to her she sensed its meaning. The unseen voice would hold her too, would guide her too. She went into the house and to put on her best dress.


    Her mother said, ¡°So, they have accepted you.¡±


    She nodded.


    ¡°I had prayed they would not, but my prayers are seldom heard.¡± There was bitterness in her mother¡¯s voice. It seemed to burn the surface of Ziibi¡¯s skin. What made her mother so unhappy?


    Once she was fully dressed, her father took her hand and led her back to the lodge. The interior was clouded with smoke, and the bleary eyed Midewiwin sat motionless. The door flap closed behind them and the secrets of acceptance were administered. When it was over, Ziibi felt a heavy burden, but also a strange lightness. What she was doing was good and right. She would not be alone on this journey. It would take her through her life and one day lead her to the Path of Souls.


    *


    As Ziibi swept the floor, Miinan came to her and whispered, ¡°Maang is coming tonight. You must make your own separate bed.¡± The intensity of light in her sister¡¯s eyes, the excited anxiety in her voice perplexed Ziibi. She did not want to make herself another bed. She jutted out her chin and said, ¡°You make your own bed. I am keeping ours.¡±


    ¡°There are not enough skins for you to have a big pallet too.¡±


    It was true. There were not enough skins or blankets or mats for a pallet to accommodate two large beds. She was angry because she was loosing the warmth and company of her sister and now she must loose her pallet. She left the house and went in search of Maang. She found him with his mother outside their tent. Without waiting to be addressed, Ziibi said, ¡°I am not giving up my pallet and my sister to you. If you come, you bring enough to cover the both of you.¡± She glared at him, willing him to obey her, fearful he would not.


    A small smile, which he tried to hide, twisted his lips. His mother did not say a word, but Ziibi felt her displeasure.


    Maang said, ¡°It is hard to let go of a sister, I know, I have had to let go of my brother. I will do as you ask.¡± His mother started to protest but he held up his hand to her and she remained silent.


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    Dazed by her own success, Ziibi nodded turned on her heel and headed back to the trail. He had obeyed. She had hoped he would, but she was not sure he would. What had made the difference? She had just stepped onto the path when a voice in the trees said, ¡°Stop.¡± The voice was angry. With a jerk of her head, Ziibi turned and saw Ajijaak¡¯s noko, in her arms she held a basket of wild onions. The onions sharp scent made Ziibi¡¯s nose tickle. The temptation to run came over Ziibi. For some reason she felt like she was about to be scolded, but for what? Of course if she did run it would not do any good. Ajijaak¡¯s noko knew the rhythm of every step of every person in the village. With a tremble in her old voice Ajijaak¡¯s noko said, ¡°I heard. You go back and you say you are sorry. You do not have the right to command your elders. You will never succeed, if you do not respect the honor of your position.¡±


    Her position? Was this rebuke because she was now Midewiwin? There was something terrifyingly stern about this old woman. The fear she radiated took hold of Ziibi, but it did not submerge her into submission. She responded, ¡°I have to give up my sister, I will not give up the place where I sleep.¡±


    ¡°Your sister will be giving up more than her bed tonight.¡±


    Though Ziibi did not understand exactly what this meant, she said, ¡°That is her choice. I choose my bed.¡±


    ¡°Do as I say.¡± The blind eyes were full of hard dull light. What prompted this anger? Usually, she treated Ziibi with kindness and tolerance. There was fear in the woman¡¯s face, fear etched in every wrinkle that frowned above her sightless eyes. In that instant Ziibi understood, she was not afraid for Ziibi, the fear was her own. Why was she afraid and of what? Gently, Ziibi said, ¡°Noko, I can not take back what I have said. I would loose face. It will cause a bad beginning for this night. I have done wrong, I see that. I will remember what you told me and I will not command my elders again. I promise.¡±


    The frown left Ajijaak¡¯s noko¡¯s brow. The fear also receded. ¡°You are a wise girl Ziibi. Make sure you keep wisdom close, she will serve you well if you do. Go now.¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡± Ziibi ran down the trail towards home.


    *


    Zhede had left the house and Ajijaak¡¯s noko had been gone even before he had awakened. His mother sat by the dead fire. Sunlight filtered through the hole in the roof that let out the smoke. She said, ¡°Good, you are awake. We must talk.¡±


    Ajijaak sat up and pushed his blanket off of him. He drew his knees to his chest in an unconscious effort to protect his heart. The words he was about to hear would hurt, of that much he was sure. The signs he would respond with would hurt his mother as well.


    In a slow shaky voice his mother began, ¡°I know I should have told you I agreed to join my life with Zhede last summer, but I never found the courage to do so. I am a coward.¡±


    Ajijaak grunted in protest. She was not a coward.


    His mother continued, ¡°Yes, I have been a coward. If I were not one I would have told you I was considering Zhede for my man. I was afraid if I told you, you would leave me and I did not want you to go. It was selfish. A mother has no right to keep her son bound to her, when life calls him elsewhere. Life is calling you is it not?¡±


    Ajijaak nodded.


    Her voice dropped to a whisper when she asked, ¡°Away from here?¡±


    He shrugged. He knew what he wanted to do, but it had not been sanctioned by a dream or by guidance. He must seek other wisdom before he recklessly set out on his own. A desire to run away just because his mother had mated and the girl he would always love would belong to another when night fell, were not reasons enough to leave. He would not be impulsive. He had heard the old men speak of his father¡¯s impulsive nature, his disrespect for his elders and his disregard for the sacred and the taboo.


    A slow sigh escaped his mother¡¯s lips.


    Lest she get the idea he would be with her forever he began to sign to her his plans.


    For a moment she just looked deep into his eyes, and then she asked, ¡°So, you would like to leave?¡±


    He nodded.


    ¡°Before winter? It would not be wise to leave before winter.¡±


    There was desperation in her voice. Summer was growing old; autumn would soon be upon them. There was much preparation needed to stock up for the long icy season of winter. A man alone could freeze or starve if the season were a harsh one. Regardless, he felt in his heart that it was time to go. He signed to her, ¡°I must go and dream.¡±


    Mutely she nodded and said, ¡°The dream will guide you. Go now, your Uncle Ogaa will take you to the dreaming place. I know why you do not want to be here, this night. I heard. It is good if you go away. It is good to find your destiny.¡± Unshed tears stood in her eyes.


    Lightly, he touched her face. A tear slipped from her right eye and splashed upon his hand. The warmth of it reminded him of Ziibi¡¯s tears. Why were females so prone to leaking? He removed his hand. He had much to do, before he left this place.

 Chapter 25. Inside a Tear

    The trip to the dreaming place was not the same as Ajijaak¡¯s last journey. He was no longer bursting with his own ambitions and pride. An emptiness had opened up inside of him, a space that could receive a dream. His uncle did not speak to him at all and it was a relief. To be questioned by those with verbal speech was stressful. It always reminded him the absence of his voice, his inability to articulate what he thought and felt. When they reached the dreaming place, Uncle Ogga stopped the canoe, but he did not land it. Ajijaak lowered himself into the water. It was ice cold and came to his thighs. The shock of cold traveled through him. He held his bucket and food pouch over his head. The water sloshed around him as he made his way to shore. He turned and waved to his uncle. Uncle Ogaa gave him a solemn nod and paddled away.


    As he watched his uncle¡¯s canoe get further and further away, fear began to gnaw inside of Ajijaak. He silenced it. Like wrongful pride, fear was a dream killer.


    *


    Two days and two nights had passed without sleep and without dreams. Fear kept trying to submerge him. The voices inside of him clamored with doubt and harsh judgement. He must not give such foolishness power over him.


    On the fourth night the stars were Ajijaak¡¯s only companions. Fear had left him, so had the voices inside of him. If he had slept any he couldn¡¯t remember. Time became fluid. Light and dark passed before him. This night, It seemed that forest had been commanded to silence. Nothing chirped and nothing moved. His head hurt and his body ached. How long had it been since he last tasted food? How long had it been since water had cooled his tongue? He reached for his water bucket. It was empty. The dream he thought would come swiftly, remained illusive. He would not leave this place until he was given his dream, even if he risked an early sojourn on the Path of Souls. Heavy lidded, his eyes closed. The pain in his body was like the sea when a storm churned up her waters. He began to drift. Over the past nights and days his excitement over the coming of sleep, would waken him and keep him from dreaming. This night, his body had ceased to care about the activity of his mind. He was floating. Below him was the world. It was shaped like the drop of a tear or of water. The stars surrounded him. Then they duplicated themselves and he was in a bark canoe. The sky was overhead and water was beneath him. He was now inside the tear. His paddle made a soft whooshing sound as it pushed him through the dark waters. He came to a place of rocks and caves. His canoe glided into the cave.


    Though it should have been as dark as a starless night, it was not. Light radiated around him, a soft glow, that illumined the stonewalls of the cave. He could see where the movement of the waters had carved grooves into the stone. He could see how the water had painted the stone with the colors of the earth. There were pictures on the walls. Pictures of birds. He caught his breath. These were pictures of cranes, of his people, of his kind. Suddenly from deep inside of him the cry of the crane pushed up through his throat and escaped though his mouth. It echoed in the cave and traveled to another cave and echoed there. It was his voice, his voice multiplied by echoes. It sounded all around him and filled him. He closed his mouth and while the sound stopped inside of him it continued to move though out the caves. The caves were like the honeycomb of the bee. Many of them, small compartments filled with water. He paddled his canoe thorough each one following the sound of his own echo. Finally there was silence. In the silence the light flickered then dimmed to darkness. Fear did not touch him. He waited.


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    Another presence filled the silence. He heard a voice, or was it the wind whispering to him? He did not know. He listened hard. The words, the voice said were, ¡°You will be an echo maker. Your words will out live your body. Go now and travel back to the land of your time.¡± There was a small tap in the dark silence, and then he heard the call of the sacred drum. It beat and beat to the sound and rhythm of Ajijaak¡¯s heart. It seemed to fill his blood and his body. The canoe disappeared and he was on the shore of an island. The dim outline of houses were visible in the pale morning light. The drum continued to beat. Beside him stood a female wolf. Her eyes were the color of the sun and her fur was tufted in white around her face. She jerked her head to him and bid him follow. She led him up the path to an old man. A man who somehow looked familiar, but Ajijaak did not know who he was. The old man said, ¡°So the Great Spirit has at last sent me help.¡± He motioned to the barrel of a wooden drum that was partially hollowed out. ¡°It must be empty before it can be filled with sound.¡± The man handed him a wedge made of some kind of bone. Ajijaak had never seen anything like it before. The man showed him how to scrape the inside of the drum with it. Ajijak sat down beside the man, and began to scrape.


    The voices of frogs pulled Ajijaak from his dream. His weak body sat up and he opened his eyes. Morning light was soft and gray. Clouds raced along the tops of the trees. A storm was coming. He must seek shelter. He grabbed his pouch of food and went to a hollowed out tree close to the dreaming place. The tree smelled of earth and a tuft of a wolf fur was caught along the outer edge of the hollow. The sight of it brought Ajijaak¡¯s dream back to him in vivid detail. He put the fur in the pouch he wore around his neck. Gently he lowered his stiff body into the emptiness of the tree.From his food pouch he began to eat the dried blueberries and rice. He ate slowly. If he ate too fast he would be sick. It began to rain. He cupped his hand and held it out in the rain. He felt the drops, like cold tears slide into his palm. When it was full he brought it to his mouth. It cooled his swollen tongue. He felt life begin to seep back into his body and his spirit.


    *


    When Ziibi awoke beside her Noko, the sun had not yet colored the sky. Inside her heart was a dance of joy and sorrow. She quieted her mind. Something had happened. It was both good and difficult. In that instant she knew. Ajijaak had dreamed. As soon as she had eaten and done her chores, she went to Ajijaak¡¯s tree. It was the old oak where in secret he had often watched Miinan. Her short arms and legs made the climb up the tree, difficult. She scraped her knee badly. Her blood was warm as it ran down her leg. The morning sky was now full light. Not a single cloud could be seen. Fear crept upon her and leapt. What if Ajijaak did¡¯t come home today? He should have been home days ago. Some young men never recovered from their dream quest, some died in their quest. Her heart thudded fast inside her. Was he all right? Where was he? She saw his Uncle Ogaa walking toward the river. Was he going to check on Ajijaak. She prayed so. Ziibi wanted to follow him, but was no way to follow without a canoe. She could swim, but she would not be able to swim against the current for long. So she was left, helpless, to wait. To wait and see if all would be well. Would it be well? Would he be all right?


    If anything happened to Ajijaak she would never forgive her sister for not loving him and fighting for him. A seed of bitterness tried to take root in Ziibi. She wanted, needed someone to blame, and she chose her sister. A breeze stirred. Her nose wrinkled and she sniffed the air. A wind rose and set the trees to talking. She turned to the sound of their voices. They murmured, All is well. She could let fear take her on its harsh journey or she could trust the voices of the earth and voice within her. She chose to trust.

 Chapter 26. The River and the Crane

    It was now evening and Ziibi had returned to the oak tree. A breeze stirred. Her nose wrinkled and she sniffed the air. She caught the scent of Ajijaak. She looked down river. Olga¡¯s canoe was coming. Ajijaak sat in front of him.The instant she saw Ajijaak in his uncle¡¯s canoe, the seed of bitterness and blame she had sewn in her heart for her sister blew away. Ajijaak was safe, he was alive, that was all that mattered now.


    In the prow of the canoe Ajijaak held himself erect.He was thinner and his body and hair were dirty. The sight of him brought her fresh fear. He always was so well groomed. Not now. What had happened to him? What if his quest had broken him, what if his head had gone funny? The old women told stories of young men who had lost their wits searching for their dreams.


    In deepening fear, she waited. She watched the canoe glide to a halt near the shore. Ogaa and Ajijaak got out and pulled the canoe onto land. A blade of sunlight ripped through the trees and illumined Ajijaak¡¯s eyes. In that brief instant, Ziibi saw that his mind was clear. She offered a hasty prayer of thanksgiving. When his eyes swung in her direction Ziibi hid herself behind the trunk of the tree. She must not risk being seen. If she was seen and her father found out, she would be punished. By being here she was bringing shame on herself and disobeying her father. At the moment she did not care. Ajijaak was safe. He had lost weight, but he was safe.


    Ogaa and Ajijaak passed the tree. Ziibi quickly swung around so she could watch them go up the trail. How tall and straight Ajijaak walked. The stoop of his shoulders was gone. Had he at last found his manhood? Such a finding had and would further separate him from Ziibi, but she did not know that. All she knew was that he had come back and she prayed with all that was in her that he would never leave their village. She might never be able to love him, if only he would stay, she could be content. The recollection that she would be the one leaving even if he did stay tore through her.


    When her womanhood came it would not be fitting for her father to teach her. Impulsively she prayed, ¡°Do not let me become a woman for many more seasons. Give me time, please give me time to watch over him.¡± This was a prayer of disobedience. It would not be granted. It was selfish and wrong to ask the Great Spirit to change the flow of life for selfish infatuation. Though Ziibi knew this, she did not repent. She was too overwrought and confused by the rush of her emotions to be clear-headed or clear hearted. Without her realizing it she felt into the same trap that had bound Ajijaak to Miinan. It was a cruel trap and it whispered lies.


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    *


    The wind was low and the night birds were beginning to awake. Ziibi sat by the river with her knees tucked under her chin. Her backside hurt. Her father had found her in the tree and she had been punished for running off. She had been scolded and told she was bad.


    With tears still streaming from her eyes she watched the water. Was she bad? Was love bad? Why could one not follow the desires of one¡¯s heart? Why was that wrong? Though she knew she must stay away from Ajijaak, she would never loose her devotion to him. He would be her spirit¡¯s partner for life even though he would never belong to her body.


    *


    Another morning, four days later, Ziibi was again hiding. This time she was not in the tree, but in a rock hollow. She had over heard her father tell her Noko that Ajijaak was leaving this morning. Quiet tears slipped down her face. Her father said Ajijaak was going on a long journey, across the great sea. It hurt to learn that Ajijaak would have many adventures she would never know about. If she could she would go with him, but she knew he would not want her company. Her heart was breaking because he had not spoken to her since his return. In the past four days he had not gone anywhere beyond his own home, so there had been no opportunity to meet him on the trail or in the forest.


    There was a flap of great wings. Ziibi turned to the sound. A crane landed in the shallow water. He gazed at her with his yellow eye.  She felt the stillness of his spirit. His beak was the color of the sun. He dipped its head into the water. Rings of water flowed out  from his submerged head. When the crane raised his head, a fish thrashed in his beak. Expertly he tilted his beak and swallowed it. Ziibi turned her attention back to center of the river.


    Ajijaak would come this way. She must be patient. He would be here soon. She knew she would be in so much trouble when she got home. At the moment, no one knew where she was, but it would not take her father long to figure it out. Dual sensation swirled inside of her. Ajijaak must hurry before she got caught and if only he wouldn¡¯t leave at all.  She wanted to say good bye to Ajijaak, or at least see him go. She was not sure she would actually say anything to him. Just knowing she was watching him, waiting for him might anger him. What if it amused him? Neither was a reaction she could cope with. So she sat hunched in the hollow of the rock. She wished Mikwam was with her, but she had not seen him since Ajijaak came back from his dream quest. Perhaps it was because she was being disobedient, perhaps it was because she was defying the words of those women who told her to leave Ajijaak be. Those two women that she would be forced to live with one day.


    In the distance she heard the sound of a paddle. She peeked over the rock and saw Ajijaak¡¯s canoe. His eyes were focused strait ahead. He did not see her. The ripples from his canoe were lost in the waves. She saw him dig his paddle into the water and push hard against the current. Everything in her wanted to cry out to him, but she found herself paralyzed by her own silence.


    The crane that had been fishing along the shore suddenly rose into air. It gave out a great cry. The sound of it echoed in the trees. Ajijaak turned to the sound. His eyes followed the flight of the crane, but he did not see Ziibi. She stood and watched him paddle away from her.

 Chapter 27. Red Beaver

    The voice of the crane sounded within Ajijaak. Surely its cry was a sign that he was headed in the right direction. He dug his paddle into the rocking waves of the Great Sea. Beneath its churning surface the Snake King slept. All at once he became aware of another presence. Ziibi. Though he did not turn back he could feel her small dark eyes on him. If he sniffed the air hard enough he was certain he would smell the salt of her tears. Poor Ziibi, her heart was too large for her small body. She would know much pain in this life. What would become of her? Her fate was not one he would know until they both dwelt in the land of souls.


    For a long while he knew she watched him. She was going to be in so much trouble. He was tempted to turn back and wave at her to go home, but he did not. He was not sure why. Something inside him seemed to forbid it. She needed to grieve him in solitude the same way he had needed to grieve Miinan. When he turned his canoe to the right, he felt her presence leave him. She had at last gone home. He knew she would take whatever punishment was meted out to her. What would Mikinaak do to his youngest daughter? He would not be harsh, just disappointed. Mikinaak was good to his daughters. He could see that now. He had not been able to before his dream came. All he could do was see Mikinaak as an obstacle. No, he was a good father. A good father did not let his daughter join her life to a broken vessel. That had been wise. Ajijaak now knew his brokenness was not just physical but it was spiritual as well. His father¡¯s life had left wounds upon his. Wounds he hoped would heal one day and become scars. He did not know how to be a proper mate. He had no example. Would he love another? He did not know, his life was no longer his own. He had surrendered it to the force beyond the visible. In the days ahead he would do his best to listen and follow the path as it spread out before him.


    The sun arced then began to go lower in the sky. Ajijaak¡¯s back and arms ached. His feet had long fallen asleep, yet he still paddled against the the tide. At least it was not windy. When night fell, he pulled his canoe onto the shore of a small island.


    *


    The sun glanced off the water. Ajijaak squinted at the jagged island that rose from the water. It was Migizi-manidoo. Soaring columns of water beaten stone cut into the morning sky. He had heard the old men speak of this place, though he had never expected to see it. The island stone was layers of color, browns and reds and yellows, like autumn leaves pressed tightly together. In places it was sculpted like the delicate bones of the deer, in others like the thick skull of the bear. Parts of it looked like tree trunks. Above the stone island was a thin layer of soil on which grew actual trees. Their green leaves pushed against the blue of the perfect sky. Awe filled Ajijaak.


    Beneath the island was a honeycomb of stone where water flowed in and out. The water sang a song as it lapped against the stone, eating, slowly eating away at the surface of the rock, and leaving ridges with its wet chewing teeth. The truth that water had much power became real to him. It could carve stone. It was a slow power though. Not fast like an arrow or a knife. The sea had much patience as she worked to eat away at the stone. In the process she created untold beauty. The arcs of the stone brought an awareness of the spirits. Over their presence Ajijaak felt a larger more encompassing power. The earth was a wondrous place. A place he had not appreciated in a long time. He bowed his head and reverenced the earth. Aki, he called her. His noko¡¯s name was Aki. He wondered if her unseeing eyes could see him here. For some reason she felt very close. Also with him was another presence, distinct, but not known, or at least not remembered.


    A human voice whispered in the trees. He looked up. There far above him on a rock outcropping stood an old man. His hands rested on a walking stick. In a gruff voice he shouted, ¡°At last you have come.¡± The old man did not wait for him to form a response. He said, ¡°There is a rope.¡± He pointed a rope that was tied just above the water on one of the island¡¯s stone pillars. ¡°Tie your canoe and climb up the handholds. I will be waiting for you in my house. You will see the smoke.¡±


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    Tying the canoe was easy. The the climb was not. The rocks were wet and slippery. It took all Ajijaak¡¯s skill to manage to ascend the handholds that were cut into the stone. Once on top, he could see smoke rising from a birch bark house. The old man sat on a low stool. His head turned to the sound of Ajijaak¡¯s step as he neared the house. When he was close, the old man said, ¡°I have been waiting for you. You will carry on the making of drums and the sacred word. I will teach you both.¡± He motioned for Ajijaak to stand before him. The old man¡¯s eyes were clouded. He was as blind as Ajijaak¡¯s noko.


    The old man grasped Ajijaak¡¯s amulet and pulled his face down. He read Ajijaak¡¯s face. His gnarled hands smelled of wormwood and juniper. The hands were rough and ridged. They reminded Ajijaak of the stone carved by the great sea. The old man said, ¡°It is a good face. A handsome face. I know you cannot speak. You came to me in a dream. I was worried, you would not come in real life. A girl held you captive, and only you could free yourself. You have suffered much, as I have. We will share our suffering and create a future for you.¡± He removed his hands. ¡°Sit, I am sure you are hungry.¡±


    The old man called out, ¡°Wiinizik!¡± A young woman appeared. She was quite beautiful. Not as beautiful as Miinan. She dropped her eyes. Embarrassed that he had been staring, Ajijaak looked away as well. The old man said, ¡°This is my granddaughter.¡±


    *


    After a night of deep sleep, Ajijaak was awakened by the old man. His name was Misko-amik. He shook him gently and said, ¡°Come, we must recover our sacred words.¡±


    Sleepily, Ajijaak stared at the old man. His braids hung long and white on either side of his creased face. Misko-amik¡¯s eyes though dulled emitted a watery light. ¡°Hurry you have slept too long. We must make shore before the sun sinks.¡±


    From behind him Wiinizik said, ¡°Nimishoomis, you must eat first. Now give him time to awaken. You have waited a long time; you can be patient a bit more. Besides I am not done packing yet.¡±


    Ajijaak¡¯s eyes went to the girl as she spoke. She was shy and did not make eye contact. Her voice was sweet like the sound of copper bells that jingled when he danced. He felt drawn to her, but even in his half dazed state, he knew better than to be attracted to her. His heart would not be broken again.


    Though Misko-amik rushed him through his breakfast of roasted whitefish with maple syrup and dried berries, Ajijaak enjoyed every bite. This young woman was a good cook. He tried very hard to keep his eyes on his bowl, but the light of the morning sun on her hair distracted him. It was not the blue black of Miinan¡¯s. It was the deep black of onyx. Her hands trembled as did his when she took his bowl from him. Was she going with them to retrieve the sacred word, what ever that meant. He hoped so.


    A little later, it was only him and the old man that left in a large canoe tethered to the sloping side of the island. The girl would stay alone. It did not seem wise for her to stay, but he had no way to protest. It was also not his place. After she had helped him get her grandfather into the canoe, she said, ¡°I will be all right. Do not worry.¡±


    This time their eyes met. It was a moment of unparalleled confusion. The brown of her eyes seemed to reach inside of him and obliterate all feeling for Miinan. As deep as they reached they did not touch the place where Ziibi lived. She was a child he would always remember as the first member outside his family to profess love for him. It had been a gift he did not understand until this moment. To feel the stir of love inside for another and to want to express it selflessly was not how he had felt about Miinan. He had wanted to possess Miinan for her beauty. Wiinizik could not be possessed. She belonged to herself. Though she looked young, he knew she was not a child inside, the way Ziibi was not a child inside.


    Wiinizik smiled at him. Her smile sent his pulse to beat like a drum. He felt his face flush with warmth and then shame. He had just betrayed himself. He must be more careful. Surely she would be repulsed by such as him. Still, he had the courage to hold her eyes and he returned her smile. He saw kindness in her eyes. Quickly, he looked away. How could he fall so quickly? How could he forget so suddenly the love he thought he would die without?


    ¡°Hurry up!¡± shouted Misko-amik. ¡°It will be dark before we reach shore and I do not want to be a panther¡¯s supper.¡±


    Ajijaak pushed the canoe out into the water. Since he was not paddling against the waves, he made fast time. The sun had just passed its zenith as they neared the shore. Suddenly, Misko-amik stripped off his blanket and jumped into the cold water. His old body suddenly became fluid. It moved in the way a beaver¡¯s body moved as it swam beneath the water. The light of the sun cast a red glow around the old man and suddenly he looked like the red beaver he had been named after. When the water grew shallow Misko-amik stood. His hair had come unbraided and cascaded down his back in white waves. Sunlight on water performed a second trick of time. All at once Misko-amik did not look like the old man he was but a glowing youth filled with light and life. A cloud passed before the sun, and the illusion vanished. Ajijaak had seen the man Misko-amik was and the spirit that still lived inside his aging body.

 Chapter 28. River of Change

    The full face of the moon covered Ziibi in cold light. Between her legs the blood had come. Without her father¡¯s knowledge she had been mixing herbs to stanch her flow. She did not want to become a woman. She did not want to leave her people and go to learn the way of Midewiwin. When she had been wakened by the cry of Miinan and Maang¡¯s baby girl, she had felt a dampness between her legs and she had known its meaning. While Miinan nursed the baby back to sleep, Ziibi had remained very still. The tears that had slid down her cheeks continued their flow, long after the baby and Miinan were asleep. Finally, when she could bear it no more Ziibi had gotten up and crept through the door flap. Once outside she began to run. Soon Mikwam joined her. She was grateful for his companionship. He was a gift in the midst of all that was unfair about her life and its vocation.


    The moon had cast long shadows through the autumn forest. More quickly than she expected she was by the Great Sea. Her feet took her to the rock where she had watched Ajijaak disappear five summers ago. Sometimes she dreamed of him. She dreamed of an old man and a pretty girl. There was also a child in these dreams. Had Ajijaak found his partner for life? Was he happy? All Ziibi knew was that she was most unhappy. She sat down on the rock and brought her knees beneath her chin. She did not want to face morning. The news of her womanhood would not sit well with her mother. She was bitter that her youngest child would be taken from her. Noko would be happy for her, she celebrated the flow of life, for some stupid reason. Perhaps old women who were in no danger of having babies did not remember well the terror of it. She had seen Miinan give birth and it was not something Ziibi ever wanted to do. It was after the baby Waaban¡¯s birth that she had gone out to the plants and started talking to them, pleading with them to divulge secrets necessary to forestall her womanhood. The plants had responded as all plants did to her inquiries. She did not know why they gave up their secrets to her so easily, but she was thankful.


    Beside her Mikwam sat. His ears twitched. He rose and darted into the nearby cedars. Someone was coming. She turned. It was Maang. He smiled at her, but she did not return his smile. She said, ¡°I am in my first flow, stay back.¡±


    His smile widened. Even in the cold light of the moon some warmth danced inside of him. It repelled her. Lately, she had noticed him watching her. It was not attention that she wanted or invited. He did not stop, but came and sat down beside her careful not to touch her. He knew great power resided in her, power that could kill him if he touched her. In a low voice he said, ¡°In some families sister¡¯s walk the path of life with the same man.¡±


    ¡°Not our family. I will be leaving the village to be trained in Midewiwin.¡± Though she did not look at him, she was aware his posture drooped. He had wanted her for his partner. Ugh. The noises he made over Miinan, he wanted to make over her. No. For the first time she was thankful she was going away. With the women, as a Midewiwin, she might not ever have to join her life to another. There was only one for her, and she he was her forever, even if she never saw him again in this life. Maang made a slight movement closer. Ziibi leapt to her feet. She looked down at Maang and said, ¡°Go back to my sister. She will worry if she finds you missing. And remember, do not be so foolish as to think my father will allow you another partner. He will not.¡±


    Maang did not say more. He scooted away from her and stood. His feet carried him swiftly back to the village. Once he was behind her sight, Ziibi turned her attention to the sea. The ebb and flow of the tide as it ceaselessly caressed the shore, the music of motion calmed the tumult within her. Somehow, she would meet this new life. Somehow. Mikwam returned. Ziibi knelt beside him and buried her face in his ruff. Unlike living creatures, he did not have a heartbeat, thus, in times of grief he was a poor companion. She let go of him. Her mind and body were tired, but she did not want to go home. With Mikwam watching over her, she would be safe. She curled herself into a ball and closed her eyes. The water sang to her a gentle song that soothed her into deep sleep.


    *


    ¡°Ziibi,¡± called her Noko¡¯s voice. It pulled her from dreamless sleep. She opened her eyes to first light. The world was purple with shadows. Above her stood her noko and Ajijaak¡¯s noko. Both held baskets to spread along the path.On the ground beside her was her pack for her sojourn in the hut. She did not want to go to the hut. The old women smiled vague smiles that masked their concern for her. Ziibi got up. She was now taller than both of these women. Her body was slender with only slight curves of hips and breasts.She nodded but did not speak. Her time had come.


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    The walk to the hut was slow because the old women had both grown slower with time. It had been five summers since Miinan had made her journey to the hut. Ziibi had been curious then, but now she was not. Most young women went to the hut expecting dreams of their future partners, their children, bead designs and recipes. Ziibi did not know what kind of dreams would come to her but she was certain they would not be regular. The leaves crunched beneath her feet as she walked. They passed the village. She knew her mother was watching for her, but she did not turn to her. The pain in her mother¡¯s eyes was not something she had the power to soothe or ease. Her mother thought she did and that is what hurt her. Her mother thought that if only she were not Midewiwin their life could continue on as it had and be added to, not taken from. When they passed the village they made their way along the river for a while. The running river spoke to her of secrets that it might share.


    When the old women reached the hut, they went inside. Noko said, ¡°You must remember to tend your fire. The nights are getting colder.¡±


    Ziibi put down her pouch and crawled into the small space. Ajijaak¡¯s noko squatted on the floor and struck the flint. Sparks flew. Within moments flames licked at the kindling. Ziibi could never get a fire going so quickly. The warmth of the fire crept over her cold body. Her numbness began to fade and feeling returned with a rush. She did not want to feel. Ajijaak¡¯s noko stood and said, ¡°I will chant for you child.¡± She left the hut.


    Noko sat down by the fire and motioned for Ziibi to sit beside her. She said, ¡°You have entered the river of life. The river that will take you to the heights and depths of all the Great Spirit has made. Your body will one-day hold a world within it, the world of a child. You at this moment possess the greatest power of your life, the entering into the ability to hold life. No man can ever experience this mystery. That is why they hunt and fish, why they go to war. They want our power, but they cannot have it. It is ours alone. We always know that the child within us is half of us. Man never can be entirely certain, that is why some men try to own their women. No one can be owned. It is your mother¡¯s greatest flaw. She wants to own all that was only meant to pass through her. You are not like her. You know that life must be released not horded. Your dreams will come and then you will have some hints of your life. Be careful my noozhishenh.¡± She bowed to Ziibi. Painfully she stood.She smiled down at Ziibi. ¡°It will be well. Courage. You are not alone. Many have walked this path before.¡± She turned from her and left the hut. The north wind blew around the hut, causing the poles to groan. Ziibi felt the cold encircle her ankles and creep up her legs. She pulled her buckskin coat close around her.


    *


    A single spiral of gray smoke curled before her eyes. The fire was low, loosing its warmth. Soon she would be cold. The kindling was running out. Out side the rain beat upon the hut. Long rivulets of water ran down the walls and onto the floor. Noko would not come in this storm and Ziibi felt dirty. She longed to wash away the caked blood, the blood from the river of life within her.


    Four nights had passed and each night her sleep had been fitful and dreamless. In the absence of visions she had been so sure of, she had begun to doubt her calling. Outside the wind hummed to her. It was not humming but murmuring words. Words? She listened closely. It was calling her name, ¡°Ziibi, Ziibi...can you hear me?¡±


    Ziibi became very still. Was it the wind or was it one of the bad braves...come to rape her? But it was cold and wet...the cold, the rain were supposed to protect her from those who would take what was hers. A shiver, that was not from the growing cold, rattled her teeth. She wanted her noko. She did not want to be here, alone, all alone in her filth and bad magic.


    More voices whispered, ancestors or just the wind? She was so hungry. The smoke began to swirl upward. A voice from within it called, ¡°Ziibi, Ziibi. Listen to my words. Your eye can see into the darkness like the eyes of an owl. In your mind, visions will come.¡±


    Faces appeared in the smoke, old and young all female. One looked like a relative, the rest where unknown.


    ¡°Who are you?¡± she asked.


    ¡°We are the those who have come before you and those who will come after you.¡±


    ¡°Are you my ancestors and my daughters?¡±


    ¡°We are your people. People that will one day be forgotten if not for the few who chose to remember us. Will you choose to remember us and teach those of us who are coming to find dignity in their heritage?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    They asked, ¡°Why?¡±


    Something mysterious swelled inside of Ziibi. She felt as if someone had placed a treasure within her. She said, ¡°Because it is wrong to forget what is noble and true. Our people must know where we have been to know where we are going.¡±


    ¡°Well said, Bebangi-Ziibi. The Great Mystery journeys with you.¡± The smoke swirled and the faces disappeared. A sharp wind blew into the hut, rain hissed against her fire extinguishing it. She leapt to her feet to close the flap. When she turned back to the hut, it was dark...so dark. Ziibi blinked her eyes. The spirits were wrong, she could not see in the dark.Cold rushed in upon her. She pulled her damp furs around her and wadded her body into a tight ball.


    .

 Chapter 29. To Remember

    With a firm hand, Ajijaak finished the sacred record with his bone pencil. The cold autumn wind murmured outside the house. It had many voices today, some whispered sadness others anticipation. Ajijaak looked at the birch bark page. Delicate symbols ran across its smooth surface. For five rounds of season he had worked on this sacred record in the evenings after the hunting, fishing and the drum making were done for the day. It had been a hard thing to learn at first. On the first pages of the record, the symbols he had made were crude and crooked. It had taken time to develop the skill to make the symbols beautiful and clear. He had done it though. He had finished it. Something deep inside of him felt very satisfied. So much had come to him through the making of these symbols.


    Misko-amik sat wrapped in his blankets half dozing by the fire. Ajijaak smiled to himself. The old man would be pleased to know he was done at last. For several long moments Ajijaak remained immobile. His bone pencil held up over the page. He did not want Wiinizik to know he was finished. He did not want her words to break into the holy silence he felt welling within him. Not only had he learned how to communicate better through symbols, he had also created dances in his mind about the stories he had recorded. He could not wait for the next village gathering to share his dances. He practiced them on nights when he could not sleep well. The dances would help the people recall their own power and their own strength. The dances would bring them into the shelter of the spirits.


    He put down his pencil. His eyes once again scanned the page. He had learned all the symbols by heart and he would not forget them. Beside the fresh birch bark board plate he had just finished was the stack of rotting plates. These plates had been assembled long before he was born. Usually only rotting pages were replaced, but Misko-amik had insisted that Ajijaak redo all the sacred records. He did not want the history to be lost. The old man had been having troubling dreams. Dreams in which the people forgot all they had ever known about themselves. The people must not forget.


    Misko-amik woke from his slumber asked, ¡°Are you finished?¡± He held out his palm to Ajijaak. Ajijaak moved his index finger up and down inside the extended palm to signify yes. The old man whose palm had once been rough had smoothed as his body made room for his spirit to grow. He was loosing his physical strength as age laid claim to him. ¡°Then it is time for us to return the sacred record to her hiding place.¡±


    Wiinizik who was boiling turtle stew looked up from her pot. ¡°Us, there is no us. Nimishoomis, you must save your strength for our journey to the winter hunting grounds. Ajijaak tell him you will go alone.¡± Her sharp eyes burned into Ajijaak.


    A woman whose man could talk would not speak this way to him. Ajijaak¡¯s hand remained still above Misko-amik¡¯s palm. He had joined his life to a strong woman and while he was not sorry, it made for more quarrels. He agreed it would be hard for Misko-amik to make the journey, but he also understood that a man must finish what he had begun. Misko-amik had kept the sacred record and he had passed his knowledge to Ajijaak, and Ajijaak would pass it to another. He looked at Wiinizik in her current condition. She was ripe with child, his child.


    Misko-amik removed his palm from beneath Ajijaak¡¯s hand. He said, ¡°You are right my granddaughter. I will remain.¡±


    *


    The wind held a hint of ice. The water rippled beneath the tug of his paddle. Wrapped in water tight skins were the tablets of the sacred record. It would be fifteen rounds of seasons before he looked upon these tablets again. He passed through the honeycomb caves beneath the island. It was slower than going around but he could not resist their beauty. Their water carved arched ceilings captured the sound of the flowing waters and tossed them into the air creating a series of echoes that was mysterious and haunting. It was like listening to the whisper of his ancestors. He dug his paddle deep into the water. He must hurry. Without Misko-amik with him he would be able to make the journey in two days instead of the four it took in the past. Misko-amik was slowing down considerably these days and it worried Ajijaak. Misko-amik had become the father, he had never had. To have a father figure finally had taught him how to be a real man, a man of kindness, consideration and strength. A smile tugged at his lips. He had as much strength as Wiinizik allowed. He was thankful that he could shelter her. Another man would not have understood her independent ways or acquiesced to her oddness. She needed much room to think and be. If she had been born a man, she would have recopied the sacred record. It was she who taught him to make the symbols. It was she who had helped him make his first page.


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    With fondness he recalled that first page. It was then, that she had offered herself to him and let him know that he pleased her. He who thought she would never care for him did. It had been the grandest moment of his life. Yes, he was thankful for her and thankful for the dream that had led him to her. He headed out into the open water. With swift pushes of his paddle he made up the time he had lost going through the caves.


    For a long while he paddled. The sun rose to the top of the sky and started downward. In the distance he saw another canoe. It was too far away to tell who was in it. This canoe was also going a great speed. Where was it headed?


    Suddenly the face of Ziibi filled his mind. He had not thought about her for a very long time. Why would her image come to him out here in the open water? He recalled the night she had claimed him as her man. It remained a fond memory for him, to receive such fierce love from such a little girl. The memory faded. She was no longer a little girl, but a woman by now. A chill of fear for her ran through him. How did she fare in the grown up world? All a once a strange sensation tore through him. Something about her was reaching out to him, seeking his comfort or his guidance, he was not sure which.Had she taken a man yet? Was the man good to her? What if he were not? What if she like Wiinizik needed a man that would tolerate her strong spirit?He prayed so.


    Overhead a group of cranes flew. It was late for them to be making their way to their winter homes. It was late for him too. If not for his obsession with finishing the sacred record, they would be safe in their winter home. Wiinizik had all the birch bark rolls ready, and all their winter provisions. The sun dipped low in the sky. The shore was a dark line in the distance. Though his arms ached with fatigue he sped up his pace. He must reach land before nightfall.


    The last light of day faded into night as he pulled his canoe onto the shore. Worry about Wiinizik came over him. She did not like it when he was away from home. Strong as she was, she feared the night noises and the darkness. It was at night that his strength met her weakness and he was able to give back to her, the strength that she gave to him in the daylight.


    Many people came to their island to obtain sacred drums. They also came for the bird bone flutes that Wiinizik made. Her skill with the small awl was amazing. She would take the hollow bones of cranes, gulls or even swans if the found one and make the most incredible flutes. Their music was sweet and enchanting. She had taught Ajijaak how to play them, and they used them to communicate with each other. Though he had no human voice, he now possessed the voice of the flute, the voice of symbols and the voice of the sacred drum. There were more languages than he had ever imagined. He was working a dance that would utilize every voice he now possessed. It was a beautiful dance which he had not shared with anyone.


    After he had eaten the berry mash Wiinizik had packed for him. He went to a clearing and began to practice his dance in the light of the half moon. As he swung his arms up, shadows darted around him. He put the crane bone flute to his mouth and blew a single note. It was filled with all the longing and joy of life. He turned his head, and moved his feet in a rapid but silent step. He swung the flute down and up again, piercing the night with its sweetness. As he danced, small bright eyes watched from rabbit holes and tree branches. The small creatures seemed to know this dance was for them. He danced until he grew tired and then he went back to the canoe. First he checked on the safety of the sacred record and then, he got his blanket bundle out. The night was turning very cold. He hoped Wiinizik and Misko-amik stayed warm this night.


    He made his bed in a hollow of brush, which broke the rising wind. Small clouds scudded across the great starry sky. Tomorrow he would walk into the forest and bury the sacred record. He prayed his memory served him well, that it would not take him long to find the holy spot. Weary from his day of travel and his evening of dance he fell into deep and peaceful sleep

 Chapter 30. Sacred Ground

    When morning came, Ajijaak, ate dried fish and drank some mint tea. He hid his canoe in the brush, slung his bag over his shoulder and headed into the forest. By midday he found the ancient cedar that marked the place where the record would be reburied. It had taken him nearly two days to reach this spot when he had followed Misko-amik. On his own young feet he had moved almost as swiftly as the deer, much more swiftly than he realized he could move. Unsure he had arrived in the right place so quickly, he looked around him. There was nothing about this tree or this spot that made it unusual, and yet he sensed he was on holy ground. Beneath his feet were cedar trees sunk fifteen feet beneath the soil. In their center was a hollowed out log. This log, held the sacred record, a record he was now guardian of. The immensity of this honor filled him. He who had no voice, had recorded the stories of those long dead, and he had added the stories Misko-amik had collected. This was a divine moment in his life, a moment that would echo into his future. To his right was the ancient cedar that bore witness to the secret hiding place. It held its branches out like the arms of a woman waiting to embrace her child. Its mid section was lightening scarred. The scar looked like a bird in flight. It was not an obvious mark, but it was noticeable to the informed eye.


    With his ax he tapped the ground listening for the sound of hollowness. When he found it he set to work with ax and wooden scoop to unearth the opening of the chamber. Soon he hit the stone that covered the hollowed log. The stone was flat and lined, it was made of the same stone that the caverns beneath the island were made of.He pried the stone up with his ax. In the hollow were the remains of rotting swan and geese feathers. These should have been cleaned out when he first retrieved the sacred record. It was not a mistake he would make again. Quickly he cleaned out the debris, wiped it with a soft goose skin and then tested it for dampness. It was dry enough. From his bag he poured in the fresh geese feathers that Wiinizik had collected for him. With trembling hands he put the sacred record into the nest of feathers. He would be a much older man, when he next looked upon this record. He offered a prayer of protection. When he finished he dumped the rest of the feathers onto of the record covering it entirely. Once he replaced the stone, he spent a great deal of time carefully tamping down the dirt over the place. It must not look fresh. It must look like the rest of the forest floor. All around him were needles and branches. He took some and tossed them over the hiding place to further camouflage it. When he was satisfied with his work, he turned to go back to his campsite. The sun had sunk low in the sky.The days were shorter now and he would not make it home before dark. He did not like the idea of being in the forest at nightfall. He set off at a quick pace. He would run as fast as he could while the light lasted.


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    As he ran, his spirit danced. By burying the sacred record he had touched the future and the past. He had held eternity in his hands, and he now possessed it in his spirit. Here alone in the forest he released the sound his vocal cords could make. It was a piercing growl of a cry. High above him, beyond his vision a group of migrating Sand hill cranes heard his cry, but they did not answer him. He continued on.

 Chapter 31. The Drum

    The sunlight on the water was blinding. Ziibi refused to see anything of the surrounding scenery. She wanted to go back home.These women had arrived in her village the day after she had left the menstruation hut. It had been too soon. She had not expected to be ripped from her family so suddenly.Judging by her mother¡¯s reaction, she had not expected it either. She could still see her mother¡¯s silent sullen eyes, shooting hateful looks at her father. She could still hear the hiss of her mother¡¯s voice in her ear,¡°Remember this is your father¡¯s doing not mine.¡± Why she had said that Ziibi did not know. Had her mother wanted to stir hatred inside of her the way she stirred it inside herself. This was not her father¡¯s fault. This was the way her life was to unfold. Though she did not like it, though it was hard, what must be must be. Her greatest sorrow was that Mikwam had not appeared to her since the night she got her menses. It seemed her guardian, like her childhood had vanished.


    The women paddled the canoe into shade. Ziibi was suddenly aware of the sound of many waters whispering and singing. She opened her closed eyes and beheld stone arches. Stone carved by time and the ebb and flow of water. Water was a powerful force, it could eat stone, destroy life, but also give life. The ridges of color were like nothing she had ever seen. A sense of holiness swept through her. This was a special place, a peaceful place. The peace seeped into her turbulent emotions and began to calm them. They glided through the water that caught and reflected the light, then tossed it to another pool. Ziibi wanted to ask what this place was, but to speak would be an act of desecration. They glided back out into the open waters. Ziibi saw a curl of smoke coming from the island. An old man stood above them gazing out at the distant horizon. The sister Mitgokaa called out to him, ¡°Misko-amik, how are your bones?¡±


    A smile spread across his face. He called down to them, ¡°They hurt. I am in need of your medicine and your healing touch.¡±


    ¡°I have medicine.¡± Indeed she did. Ziibi looked at the huge bags the women carried, filled with remedies and potions that she had yet to see. The sisters paddled the canoe up to the rock ledge, tied it to a ring and then nimbly climbed of the ladder that had been carved in the stone. Getting from canoe to ladder was not easy for Ziibi. She almost tipped the canoe. Annoyed that they had left her to fend for herself, she took a firm grip on the stone and hoisted her body up. The stone was smooth and hard to grip. Surely that old man did not use this means to come and go from this place. When she reached the top, she pulled herself over the ledge. Going up a path the sisters followed the old man. Ziibi remained where she was a moment and gazed out at the vastness of the sea. If Miinan could see this view she would be elated. The thought of Miinan brought such heaviness to Ziibi¡¯s heart that a single tear managed to push through her resolve to not cry and leak out onto her cheek. Angrily she brushed it away. She would see Miinan again. It would be a long time though. But after the winter and the sugaring time, once the spring had come and gone, the villages would meet. Somehow, the time would pass. It always did.


    With a quick thrust she stood causing a moment of dizziness. The old man and the sisters were disappearing into the trees. She ran after them.By the time she reached them, they were going into a birch house. Another house stood beside it. No smoke came from this houses roof. Ziibi went to it and peeked inside the door flap. What she saw amazed her. The room contained drums of different sizes. Some had designs carved in them or painted on them. Curious, Ziibi went inside to study the symbols. She had never seen drums like these. Their tops were taunt skins. She ran her fingers across the surface of one. Though it did not speak to her, she felt the power within it. When struck it would speak. Some midewiwin used drums. Did these sisters ever use drums?Might they take one home, might she? There were some very small drums here, one small enough to fit in her cupped hands. She held it like she would hold a baby bird. What sound would such a small drum make?


    A voice said, ¡°Hello.¡±


    So absorbed had she been in the drum, she had not heard the pregnant girl enter. Embarrassed, she put the drum down and said, ¡°Hello. I should not be in here.¡±


    The girl said, ¡°That is all right. This often happens. I think the drums call to people, and they cannot help but gaze upon them. My man made all the drums.¡±


    ¡°They are the most beautiful drums I have ever seen.¡±


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    This compliment pleased the girl. ¡°Thank, now, please come and have some food, while the sisters tend to Nimishoomis.¡±


    Though Ziibi was not hungry, she put the small drum down and followed the girl outside. She had not been hungry since she left her home. In the other house the old man sat stripped naked, while the sisters applied plantain leaves smeared in bear grease all over his joints. There was prickly smell coming from the leaves that Ziibi could not identify. The sister¡¯s medicine bags each made from the hide of a badger lay open. There just peeping out of the small opening of the bag was a bear claw. Women Mide were not allowed to carry the bear claw remedy. Yet, there it was. The sister Mitigomin noticed what Ziibi was looking at. Without explanation, she pushed the bear claw back into the bag. What would her father think, if he knew he had given her over to be taught by a woman who disobeyed one of the fundamentals of Mide rule? Fear crept inside of Ziibi. Would she be taught bad medicine by these women?


    Small flat stones were banked in the fire. The other sister Mitgokaa threw herbs onto the hot stones. Immediately, the air was filled with a pungent smell.


    The pregnant girl gagged. She thrust a bowl of stewed rice and fish into Ziibi¡¯s hands and rushed outside.


    Mitgokaa told Ziibi, ¡°Go tend to Wiinizik.¡±


    Now Ziibi knew the girl¡¯s name. She went outside and found the girl hunched over holding her stomach. Her head was covered by beads of sweat. She gasped, ¡°I had forgotten the stench of the treatment. Ever since this little one has come to live in me, some smells make me feel sick.


    It was cold outside. Ziibi said,¡°Let¡¯s go to the drum house. You do not need to be out here.¡± She looked pale.


    Wiinizik sopped off the sweat on her high forehead with the hem of her dress. They went into the drum house. The girl eased herself onto a mat. In one corner of the drum house was a pile of shaving and a row of tools. Strange tools made of bone, and some of stone, there were also tiny shards of copper glinting in the dim light. ¡°Your food is getting cold.¡±


    Ziibi tipped the bowl toward her lips. It was good, almost as good as her noko¡¯s stewed rice. She tried not to think of Noko. She missed her most of all.


    Wiinizik asked, ¡°Are you Mide?¡±


    Ziibi was not used to being asked questions so directly. It was something they did not practice in her village. Still she answered, ¡°I am learning.¡±


    ¡°Is it hard to harbor so many secrets?¡±


    This question was another breech of etiquette. Had her mother not taught her the ways of politeness? Ziibi looked steadily into the girls eyes, and suddenly she knew. This girl had not been raised by a mother. Had she only known the ways of her grandfather? Yes, and he had been careless in his practical teaching.Not sure how to answer she turned her attention to the stew. She said, ¡°This is good.¡±


    ¡°Thank you. It is my man¡¯s favorite dish. He should be home today.¡± She started to say more, but stopped herself.Ziibi sensed that Wiinizik was aware she had some how blundered, but she did not know what she had done. With great effort she was trying to figure out what to say.Several silent moments passed, and then the girl began to speak again. She told Ziibi that their village was on one of the larger islands. Her grandfather preferred isolation because he liked to think. In the village he could not think because the voices of women so often penetrated the air. He did not like chatty women. Old men who lived beyond there stamina were forced to sit by the fire with the old women. He had not liking for such things. There was a sad loneliness in this girl. Even when she referred to her man, there was still a sense of sadness.Her eyes brightened and her voice dropped to a whisper, ¡°I am eager for this child to come. Though my man and Nimishoomis want a male child, I am hoping for a girl. When she is old enough we can talk of female things.¡± This last statement seemed like a plea to Ziibi.The girl was hungry for the sound and information of a female voice.


    Even though she did not want to, Ziibi put down her bowl and began to tell the story of her journey so far. As she spoke the girl¡¯s face filled with light. She hung on every word.When she finished, Wiinizik jumped up and grabbed the small drum that Ziibi had held earlier. She handed it to her. ¡°Please take this. I want you to remember me and my child. Will you pray for us?¡±


    Ziibi nodded. She took the drum and held it in her hands. The wood was smooth, the drumhead tight. She ran her finger across the surface of it.


    ¡°Here,¡± said Wiinizik. She took the drum from Ziibi. ¡°The wind is high enough I don¡¯t think any will hear.¡± She tapped the drum with her fingers. Its small voice vibrated within the confines of the house. Its voice was sweet and echoed amongst the poles that formed the shell of the house. Wiinizik¡¯s fingers began to move in a quick dance like pattern over the surface of the drum. The rhythm was haunting, it reached right down into Ziibi and touched her very soul. Who was this echo maker who had made this drum? Would she meet him before they left? She wanted so badly to ask when he would be home, but she had been trained too well, and she kept her question to herself.


    When Wiinizik finished, she said, ¡°My man taught me how to make my fingers dance on the drum. You should hear him play. I fear you will be gone before he returns.¡±


    Though Ziibi was curious, she did not ask where this man was.All she could do was hope that Wiinizik was wrong.

 Chapter 32. In the Future

    The sun was low when the sisters finished with the old man¡¯s treatments. For part of them, Ziibi had been called to help. Misko-amik was sleeping now, his face relaxed. Wiinizik said, ¡°Thank you for your kindness.¡±


    Mitiogokaa handed the girl a pouch filled with bear grease covered plantain leaves. ¡°Save these for winter. Use these fresh ones, before you begin your journey to the winter hunting ground.¡± She gave her a second pouch. She asked, ¡°Do you remember what to do with these?¡±


    Wiinizik said, ¡°Yes, I chop the leaf and the root and make poultices for Nimishoomis¡¯s joints.¡±


    ¡°Good, we must go now.¡±


    ¡°Are you sure you would not like to spend the night here? It is getting late.¡± Though tightly controlled Ziibi noticed a trace of longing in the girl¡¯s voice.


    Mitigomin shook her head. ¡°No we have others to see before we too go to our winter hunting ground.¡±


    Wiinizik hid her disappointment. She lifted brave eyes to the sisters and said, ¡°Blessings on your journey.¡±


    Together the sisters said, ¡°And a blessing on yours.¡± They each placed a hand on Wiinizik¡¯s stomach.


    ¡°Is the baby all right?¡± Wiinizik asked not even trying to hide her anxiety.


    ¡°Yes,¡± said Mitigomin. ¡°This child is strong. Do not worry. The baby will wait until you reach the hunting grounds.¡± From her medicine bag the woman pulled another leather pouch with three knots tied in the twine around the top of it. ¡°When your time comes. Put a pinch of this in boiled water. Make sure you use this.¡±


    Wiinizik nodded.


    Ziibi knew what this was, she had helped her father prepare it. This medicine was a mixture of four ground up dried bees mixed with alder root and golden rod. It was for a hard labor, not an easy one. Her father had taught her how to keep her face a mask when giving our prescriptions. A good Mide could convey to the patient the importance of the medicine without alarming them. She was behind the sisters and could not see their faces only Wiinizik¡¯s. She seemed to take their words seriously.


    In unison the sisters turned and faced Ziibi, their expressions betrayed nothing. Ziibi followed them out into the twilight. Wiinizik was behind them, she started to accompany them to the ladder, but Mitgokaa stopped her. ¡°Stay and warm the stew, your man will soon be home and he will be very hungry.


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    Relief broke out over Wiinizik¡¯s taunt features. Her eyes filled with light. Ziibi wondered what it was like to love a man so. Her mother¡¯s eyes did not fill with such light for her father, nor did Miinan¡¯s for Maang. How fortunate this woman was.


    Once the sisters were in the canoe, Ziibi, with the small drum tucked in her own bag started down the ladder. She looked up at Wiinizik. Her eyes were gazing out over the sea. Ziibi felt a strange stirring in her heart. She did not know what it meant, but it was similar to what she felt whenever Mikwam was near. Was he near now? Would she see her spirit guide once she reached the sister¡¯s village? She prayed so.


    *


    The island hovered in the light of the setting sun. Almost home. Ajijaak was hungry and tired. He pushed himself to go faster. Soon he would be warmed by Wiinizik¡¯s food and her presence. He was eager for both. He slid his canoe to the place in the stone where the ladder was. The ring was slightly twisted. He had not left it so. Sudden fear raced through him. If anything had happened to Wiinizik, he would not forgive himself. He quickly tied the canoe and scaled the stone ladder. On swift legs heran up the trail. A curl of smoke was coming from the house. He pushed open the door flap, and there was Wiinizik. Her eyes lit like two signal fires when she saw him. Her face shone with her beautiful smile. In an instant she was in his arms. He could feel the movement of their child between them, he could feel the softness of Wiinizik in his arms. He had never expected such blessings to be his. He also knew, he would not raise his child on this island. They would go to live in the village when the seasons turned. He would never leave his wife again with just the company of an old man.


    When he pulled away from her he did not need to ask if they had visitors. The air was still pungent with the smell of the sisters¡¯ remedies. As Wiinizik ladled his stew into a bowl she told him in a low voice about the sisters¡¯ visit. He could tell by the way she spoke that being able to talk with other women had helped ease her loneliness. He was ashamed at his part in her loneliness. He could not carry on normal conversations with her, and then there was his shame. The reason they did not live in the village was not only because Misko-amik did not like it, it was also because Ajijaak feared he would lose Wiinizik¡¯s respect when she saw him among other men on a regular basis. Deep down he feared that the only reason she had loved him was because there was no one else to love on this lonely island. Now, with a baby on the way, their bond would be stronger. At least this was his prayer. He was about to sign out his decision to move to the village when he stopped. What had Wiinizik just said?


    Often he treated Wiinizik¡¯s voice like the song of the bird. Something he listened to with joy, but did not pay much attention to its content. She had just mentioned the small drum. He had worked hard on that small drum. Her chatter continued, ¡°Yes, she looked so sad and lost. She had just left home for the first time. The way she held that drum made me know she was the owner it had been made for.¡±


    Anger flared inside of Ajijaak. That drum had been made to hang from his baby¡¯s cradleboard. It was supposed to be presented to the child at its naming ceremony. How could Wiinizik do this? He noticed that his partner had stopped talking. In a low voice she asked, ¡°Why are you angry?¡±


    With his fingers he formed the shape of the small drum and then he pointed at her bulging stomach.


    ¡°The drum was for the baby?¡±


    He nodded.


    As was her habit these days, she burst into tears. Until she had become pregnant she had not been an emotional creature, but his baby stirred up her insides. In a broken voice she said, ¡°I am so sorry. I did not know.¡±


    The anger left Ajijaak. He could make another drum. He held out his arms to her and held her tightly when she came to him. Her tears were warm against his neck. He ran his hand down the shining smoothness of her hair. He felt her relax in his arms. Tomorrow, when they had finished packing their canoe to go to the winter hunting ground, he would tell her about their move to the village. She was too high strung to night to give her such news.

 Chapter 33. Winter Home

    The sun was white upon the water. Their loaded canoe melded the bottom of the reflected canoe beneath them. The water held the sky in almost perfect duplication except for the ripple the paddle as it stroked the water. Seated in front of him, Wiinizik was very happy. Early that morning he had told her about their move to the village come spring, once again she had burst into tears, but they had been tears of great joy. How her eyes had shown. He had not told Misko-amik about his decision and had cautioned Wiinizik against it. Why worry the old man, before the time came? Also it would not be good to give Misko-amik too much information too soon, because he would begin to study on it and then set his mind to figure out a way around their wishes. He was stubborn proud and independent. He had spent his life preserving the history of the people and making drums to call and speak for the spirits. Ajijaak suspected he might even have some idea that change was indeed coming, but so far, he had not hinted at it. The old man was still feeling the good medicine of the sisters. It would last several days before it wore off, by then they would safely be in their winter home and the fire would keep out the cold and damp.


    Their winter canoe was wide and long. It contained all the blankets, food, skins, spices, sugar and clothes they would need for the entire winter.Winter was an unpredictable season, one that could last over long. They had a good supply of wild rice on board, in case Wiinizik¡¯s milk should fail. The baby would have rich rice milk to drink so he or she would survive until he or she could begin to eat the strained food Wiinizik would fix.Wiinizik assumed he wanted a boy. Ajijaak was afraid of having a boy, afraid a boy would be shamed by a silent father. A girl would accept his handicap more readily. Girls usually did.Boys boasted about their fathers. He had been unable to boast about his own. Would his son be able to boast about him? All he could do was pray so. Pray that his son admired his dancing and his teaching, pray that he learned to hunt and fish well and pray beyond all that that the curse of Ajijaak¡¯s family did not touch this child. Since he had left his village it seemed the curse had left him. Through the love of Wiinizik and the trust of Misko-amik, the burden of the past had been removed.


    In the front of the canoe the old man stirred. His head turned from side to side as he looked at his surroundings. He took in a deep breath of air, and said, ¡°The winter will be kind.¡± He was silent several moments and he spoke again, ¡°The girl that my granddaughter gave the drum to came from your village.¡±


    Ajijaak held his paddle in mid stroke. What? The one who had the drum that was supposed to be for his baby? He wanted to ask more, but signing and paddling did not work together.


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    Wiinizik asked, ¡°How do you know?¡±


    Misko-amik said, ¡°I listened to the sisters when they thought I was sleeping. It is amazing how much an old man can hear when he pretends sleep.¡±


    Ajijaak¡¯s mind began to race. So, Misko-amik knew of their plan to move to the village, and thus far, was not going to resist, but he had an entire winter to try to circumvent his wishes. As for the girl from his village, he knew, deep down, who she was. It had to be Ziibi. Her time to become Midewiwin was upon her. He knew how much she loved her home and he could only guess that she must be very miserable now. He hoped his drum might bring her some comfort. Now he was glad that Wiinizik had given the drum away. He also felt stupid he had not suspected it was Ziibi. He wanted to ask what Ziibi looked like now that she was a woman. It was hard for him to imagine her as such. In his mind she would always be a child. He knew better than to ever question Wiinizik about the girl. His woman was of a jealous turn, and too much curiosity would not bode well for him. So he kept his mouth shut and paddled. He could tell Wiinizik was growing weary of sitting and of course she probably needed to pee. It seemed holding a baby inside made a woman pee often and a lot. The growing of life was a continuing mystery to Ajijaak.


    *


    Two days later, they arrived at their winter hunting home. Though weary from the journey, Wiinizik carefully surveyed the house while Ajijaak unloaded the canoe. The poles of the house had endured the seasons, but there were some places where the birch had torn, or come loose. Ajijaak helped her unroll the birch bark they had brought for repairs.By mid-evening, just as the sun was going down, they had their house repaired and their camp set up. Ajijaak settled Wiinizik on the soft beaver fur blanket and wrapped Misko-amik in his bear rug.


    Outside the wind was beginning to sing the song of a storm brewing. Soon the empty beech branches that surrounded their camp began to moan and creak. Wiinizik did not like storms. She buried her face in her arms and was soon asleep.


    Misko-amik began to snore as well. To Ajijaak the sound of his woman¡¯s slow breath in sleep, accompanied by the gentle snore of Misko-amik was music. Peace came upon him. How he enjoyed this time alone with his thoughts, it was good to be able to think without trying to communicate his thoughts to another. When the baby came, the baby too would make sounds and not have a language. The baby would learn though. This thought brought him joy mingled with sadness. There was so much he wanted to tell his child. In time he would be able to, because he would teach all of his children the language of symbols, it was more efficient than the language of signing. He smiled to himself as he imagined his own brood of dark headed children watching him skillfully write out symbols with his bone pencil. In his mind he saw himself teaching them how to hold the pencil and how to move it into the shape of symbols. It had taken a long time for Wiinizik to get a baby inside, he hoped it would not take so long next time. As an only child he had always longed for siblings.

 Chapter 34. Broken Wing

    The village was deserted. All the houses stood empty and smokeless. Some had been denuded, their precious birch bark exteriors rolled up and taken to the winter hunting grounds. For the first time it occurred to Ziibi that she had no idea how to hunt or fish. The sisters did not have men, so who provided for them? As she looked around she saw that this was a larger village than her own, much larger. What would it be like to live among so many people? She turned to the left and saw the glimmer of water. A lake was nearby. A gust of wind rattled the now empty rice stalks.


    Mitgokaa, the sister with the scar on her face, went into the largest house in the village. It was almost as big the meeting lodge. The other sister Mitigomin, followed. Ziibi knew she had to follow too, but she was reluctant to see what would be her future home. She wanted her old home, her old village and she especially wanted her Noko. This would not have been so hard if Noko would have come with her. She even asked her to come, but Noko would not come. She had just looked at her with sad eyes and said, ¡°I am needed here.¡± Her words had angered Ziibi, because as all children do, she had thought she was her noko¡¯s best-loved grandchild. In truth, Ziibi had thought she was more than that, she had thought she was Noko¡¯s best loved of all. It hurt to realize that Noko loved her son, more than her granddaughter. Noko would not come with her because of him. Angrily, Ziibi had thought, He is a man. Why does he still need his mother?


    At the time, Noko had seemed to read her thoughts. Gently she had said, ¡°You need to get away from the bitterness of this house. You need to find your


    own way, my precious one. If I could I would go with you, but my place is here. To be in the wrong place does harm to all. You will find your place. You will.¡± Though Noko had tried to comfort her, she had not been comforted. Now, as she stood looking at this huge house tears swelled in her eyes. This was not home. This would never be home.


    She pulled her pack off her shoulders and hugged it. Inside of it was the small drum. It made a faint sound as she pressed her bag tighter. The sound of it echoed inside of her. It struck something deep. Courage to step forward moved within her. She crossed the short space and opened the door flap. She had thought her father had a magnificent array of medicine, but she was not prepared for what this house contained. Logs of various barks were piled on the north side. From the poles hung every kind of herb imaginable, and so many flowers. Some flowers were faded to soft yellows and browns, other though withered were still vivid with purple or red. And the smell of the place, it did not stink, but the aroma was foreign to Ziibi. The air seemed too thick, too full. She did not like it. Her courage left her and she fled.


    Her legs, much longer than they once had been, carried her back down the path to the river. It was dark now, but she did not trip on the root twisted path. She moved among the white cedars and oaks on sure feet. When she reached the rivers edge she knelt down and wept. All she wanted was to go home. Her spirit called out for Mikwam, but the wolf did not appear. The tears streaming from her eyes obscured her vision and caused her nose to run. She dug into her bag for a soft suede rag to wipe her nose on, as she fumbled around her fingers brushed the drum. The skin of it vibrated ever so slightly. She pulled it out. It was now too dark to see it. She tapped its taut surface with her index finger. The small voice of the drum flowed out and echoed against the surrounding trees. Across the lake the voice of a sandhill crane cried out in the darkness.


    Instantly, Ziibi was on her feet. She shoved the drum into her pack and headed toward the sound. In the mud she found a young crane with a broken wing. What had happened to it? How had it lost its flock? It was very weak. The instant she touched it, the bird trembled, but did not try to get away. The bird was almost as big as she was. Its wings were nearly six feet in span and one of them was broken. Gently she lifted the bird and held it close to her body. It made a low sound in its throat, but still it did not struggle against her. Ziibi felt the nearness of death, but it had not yet come to claim the bird. Could she save it? She did not know, but she would try. Through her coat, she felt the wild beating of the bird¡¯s heart. It was fast and thready, but there was a determined strength to it. This bird wanted to live, she felt it, she knew it.


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    With out fear or hesitation carried the bird up the path and into the sisters¡¯ house. She did not speak to them when she entered. She did not ask for help. She knew what to do. She took the herbs she needed and the strips of plaited grasses that she needed. She had seen her father set broken bones before. Her fingers went slowly over the bird¡¯s broken wing. The bones of a bird were hollow. She did not know if she would be able to set the break or how badly the break was until her sensitive fingers found the point of fracture. It was not a clean break at all, but it was on the long bone of the wing, and not near the joints. If it could mend, this bird might live to see another season. Mitigomin held the bird while Ziibi pulled the bone back into place. There was an ever so slight popping sound as it slid into place. The other sister, Mitgokaa gave Ziibi two small planks to use as splints for the wing. With the long braided grasses she bound up the splints. The bird seemed to understand she only wanted to help it and did not struggle, or else it was so weak it could not struggle. Still its bright eyes blinked at Ziibi in the firelight. It was alive for now.


    After she finished with the splint she fed the crane the fish gruel that Mitgokaa gave her.When the bird had taken some nourishment, its eyes grew heavy. With the help of the sisters she placed the crane in a large basket lined with grass. The basket was placed beside Ziibi¡¯s pallet, along with more fish gruel to give it when and if it woke up.


    When Ziibi had eaten the rice and blueberry cake fried in bear grease, she went to her pallet and lay down by the crane. The feathered breast of the crane rose and fell. It was still breathing. She fell asleep watching the crane breathe.


    *


    They traveled in two large canoes. Each sister paddled one. Ziibi sat holding her fragile patient in her arms. It was best to keep the bird still and wrapped in her robes. The crane had eaten some and she had been able to get it to drink that morning. Those were good signs. Its dull eyes took in the scenery around them, but they did not shine. The crane, like Ziibi, knew it was not headed for its usual winter home.


    The river was narrow and had rocks with lines of color in them. Bare, dead white cedars from time to time appeared as beautiful specters along the shore. Their pale rotting bark caught the morning light and turned it to gold. Further back were the precious paper birch bark trees. When Ziibi saw them she thought of Ajijaak¡¯s noko. How was the old woman? It had been awhile since Ziibi had practiced her bark biting skills. In winter, she would have time. Ajijaak¡¯s noko had given her some fine thin layers of bark to bite the night before Ziibi left her village. All at once Ziibi remembered the bark picture Ajijaak¡¯s noko had bitten for her. It had been of a crane on the river.For the first time a sense of well being flowed through her. She was now on a river carrying a crane. Beneath its warm feathers its heart beat steadily. Ajijaak¡¯s noko had seen into her future, and now she saw into this crane¡¯s future. It would live, it would return to its own kind when the seasons had changed. She too would return to her own kind when her learning was done. She must be patient and trust, just as the bird in her arms yielded its trust to her. Time would pass. It would, it always did.


    Later that day they reached their camp. A birch house fully prepared awaited them. Inside the house a fire was lit and bass soup was cooking. Except for the pot, the house was entirely empty. Ziibi looked on the floor and it was swept without a single footprint or smudge. She looked first from one sister to another. Neither explained. They took their bundles inside. Ziibi, carrying the burden of her crane ducked into the house. She felt the hair on her arms rise. Who had done this? Who was here?


    Mitgokaa brought the crane¡¯s basket inside and said, ¡°Put him in here. He is tired of being held and we need your help unloading.¡±


    Ziibi did as she was instructed. As she walked, she looked around the area for human footprints and saw none. Had the spirits fixed this meal for them? Did they do that? If they did, would Mikwam return to her? She missed him so much. How could the Great Mystery give her the gift of Mikwam only to take him away? She hoped he would return, but even as she hoped, deep down she knew, she would not be reunited with Mikwam until she walked the Path of Souls.

 Chapter 35. Dreams

    Soon their winter hut was ready. Ajijaak had banked it all around with brush to help keep out the winter cold. The sky was dull gray with clouds so dense not even the pale round of the sun penetrated them. An icy wind was blowing. The air smelled of snow. Soon, soon they blanket of winter would obliterate the earth in its white cloak. Soon, the terrible beauty of snow would make the earth appear pure and faultless. A shiver reverberated through his body. Winter like a beautiful woman, could be deceptive in what hid beneath her beauty. Starvation could come, if winter lasted to long or was too fierce. Ajijaak felt a fearful respect for winter. He ducked back inside the door flap.


    Misko-amik sat huddled in his blankets before the fire, slowly drinking the herb tea Wiinizik had brewed for him. His bones hurt today. His eyes were narrow slits as he stared with unseeing eyes at the flames. It must be hard to old. Ajijaak took the rice and blueberries Wiinizik had warmed for him. He ate in silence.


    Outside the wind gave a sudden shriek hearing the sound, Misko-amik shuddered. In a low voice he said, ¡°I will not see the spring.¡±


    Alarm flashed in Wiinizik¡¯s eyes. Ajijaak could tell she wanted to rebuke her grandfather, but that was not done. If he had seen his future, then he had seen it. She did however ask, ¡°Will your hands hold my baby¡¯s.¡±


    He turned his head toward his granddaughter. ¡°Yes, but, not for long. My body is worn out, and my spirit longs to be free of it.¡±


    Ajijaak saw Wiinizik visibly relax. Often, Misko-amik said this. For all their sakes, Ajijaak prayed the old man was wrong. It would be hard to dig a grave in frozen ground, and hard to console his woman and care for a new life. Another thought came to him. What would Wiinizik do, how would she cope when if the old man did die? Their people did not fear death, it was a natural part of the life cycle. One came to earth and lived until it was time for one to pass from life. What Ajijaak feared, was the absence of spoken words. Wiinizik and Misko-amik had long conversations. What would she do with out the sound of another human voice? What would he do? He liked the music of the old man¡¯s voice. He enjoyed listening to the talk over the fire at night. When the baby came, the baby would bring sound, but would not be able to speak for quite a while. It was good they were moving to the village come spring. Wiinizik would need companions who spoke as she spoke, but he could not shake the fear that she would not want him, once they moved to the village. She loved him, but he who had known little of love and much of rejection found trusting her to love him regardless of where they lived hard. The village also brought back the old fears of rejection and the whispering voices of judgment. Still, for the sake of love and safety, he must do, what he must do. He finished his breakfast and stood. With his hands he signed that he was going to check his fishing traps.


    Wiinizik nodded. Her eyes held her peace. She was not worried about her grandfather. She stood and walked Ajijaak to the door flap. She bound his robe tightly around him. In his ear she whispered, ¡°Nimishoomis, is in much pain. I am not worried. He will see the spring.¡± She pressed her face close to his and sent him out to his lines.


    The wind hit him like a hard slap. The sky threatened to release its bounty of ice. Quickly, he went to the river and checked his traps. As he bent over the first one, the sting of sleet smote his cheek. He pulled the first latticed trap out. It had a trout, a nice big fish that would make a fine supper. He dumped into his fish basket and continued on to the next trap.


    When he returned home he had five fish. Wiinizik took the fish from him when he entered. She did not smile and her brow was creased. He looked at her, trying to meet her eyes, but she would not look at him. His eyes darted to Misko-amik. Was he feeling bad? Had they quarreled? He watched his woman waddled to the fire. The roundness of her belly had dropped. He had heard this happened before a baby came, but how long before, he had no idea. He pulled off his robes and removed his wet moccasins. He came to the fire to warm his frozen hands. The flame brought painful heat tingling through his fingers. While he thawed himself, Wiinizik cleaned and gutted the fish with a sharp bone knife. Her hands moved so quickly and she was so adept at it, that she had the fish filleted by the time Ajijaak was warm.


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    Wiinizik got up and her movement was slow and heavy. Anxiety pierced Ajijaak. It had taken him a long time to plant a baby her. They had worked very hard at it, and it had seemed that the blessing would never come. It had though. After Wiinizik put the fish in a basket, she wiped off her hands. Her face remained immobile. Not able to stand her silence any longer, he got up and went to her. He laid his hand on her belly? His eyes asked her if it was the baby?


    Fear leapt in her eyes. She was very afraid. She whispered. ¡°The baby has dropped. It hurts me when it moves. What if our baby is too big to come out of me?¡±


    From the fire, Misko-amik said, ¡°Your hips are wide.¡±


    Anger flashed in Wiinizik. She hated it when her grandfather listened to conversations that were not his to hear. Ajijaak pulled her to him. He felt the bulge of their child. The baby was usually very active, but now seemed to be sleeping. Seeming to read his thoughts Misko-amik said, ¡°The child is resting, storing up her energy to enter this life.¡±


    Wiinizik buried her face in Ajijaak¡¯s shoulder. He felt her body tremble. She was afraid. He too was afraid. Neither possessed the peace of the old man. Ajijaak wished with all he was that his mother was here. She had help deliver many babies and the babies had thrived and so did their mothers. He had seen many creatures born. Once he found an injured doe in labor. He had helped the tiny wet fawn slip into life, just as the doe passed into the next world. It had been one of the most beautiful and sad experiences he had ever had, and never until this moment had he connected such thoughts to his own woman and own child. What if the baby was too big what if neither survived this life but did go on to the next one? If only his mother were here. Oh why was he so dull that he had not taken Wiinizik to her when they first learned a baby was coming. His mother would know what to do.


    Again, Misko-amik spoke, ¡°Stop this fear. It chases away the good spirits. You must trust yourselves and your bodies to know what to do. Your bodies merged to form this life and your bodies will deliver this child. The sisters gave Wiinizik some medicine. When the time comes, you will brew the tea, and I will chant. The Great Mystery will hover over our home and push life into our midst. Come sit with me.¡±


    Still clinging to each other Ajijaak and Wiinizik went to him and sat down.


    Misko-amik¡¯s blind eyes looked at nothing, and yet Ajijaak sensed his gaze was going back in time, gathering images and words. Was the old man about to tell Wiinizik¡¯s favorite story, the one she never tired of hearing and always found comfort in? His voice was soft as he said, ¡°Long ago Kitchi Manitou slept in the great darkness of his own presence. In his sleep a dream came, a strange dream in which a vast array of fine points of light shot like flaming fire through the darkness. The arrow lights merged forming a great light and a lesser light, the sun and the moon. The lights revealed the vastness of Kitche Manitou¡¯s presence. He looked down and saw he was not alone. There in the distance was the perfect orb of Nimaamaa Aki. She was empty, lonely and waiting, dazed by the brilliance of light. Kitche Manitou reached down to her. With his great hands he created land, and rock and water from nothing because he had the power to do so. From nothing He made all life. Nothing in the hands of Kitche Manitou is everything. He placed the rice and grasses and stretched up the trees. He blew out his life giving spirit and the rice and grasses danced with the trees. Nimaamaa Aki smiled. Next he fashioned the fish and the birds. His breath swirled around the fish and the birds and they swam and flew and filled the water and sky with their life and their beauty. Nimaamaa Aki laughed for joy. She watched as He turned to the land He had formed upon her. He pursed his lips as if about to touch her with is mouth and then, from nothing he conjured all animal life. He blew fiercely into their nostrils. Their nostrils quivered and their hearts began to beat. They leapt or crawled, moving through the dancing grasses. The beauty and wonder of it filled Nimaama Aki. Still Kitche Manitou was not finished with creating. Last of all he made The People. The People were last because they lacked the constancy of rock and earth, the rejuvenation and power of water, the independence and beauty of plants, and the variety and humility of creatures. But to the people, he gave the power, He possessed¡­the power to dream.¡±


    A shiver went through Ajijaak, as he thought of the dream that guided him to his woman, and this old man.


    Misko-amik continued, ¡°With this power The People could go beyond the borders of their limited bodies and eyes. They saw things that were and are yet to come, just as Kitche Manitou sees. We are the people, sacredly trusted with the power of dreaming. It is our greatest gift but can be turned to a curse if it is abused or not heeded. Listen to the words dreams bring, discern what is for this life and what is for the next.¡±

 Chapter 36. The Birthing

    The shrill voice of the blizzard shook the small birch bark house. Misko-amik lay wrapped in warm furs as close to the fire as he could get. Wiinizik sat propped clutching her stomach. Her face was flushed and her eyes brightened and darkened with the tide of her pain.


    On the fire a small pot of water simmered. With nervous fingers Ajijaak put the medicine the sisters had given to Wiinizik into the pot. The steam hissed and rose.


    Wiinizik barked at him, ¡°Take it off now. It must cool quickly.¡± She clutched her stomach and groaned. Ajijaak had never felt so helpless in his entire life. He longed for his mother more than he had ever longed for anyone. She had helped birth many babies as had his grandmother and he had heard the old women whisper stories to one another about births gone wrong. Every muscle in his body was tense. He took the pot off the fire and sat it down beside the bag of birth tools. There was moose bone knife. Its blade was long and very sharp. Wiinizik had told him, ¡°This will sever the baby¡¯s cord.¡± Beside the knife was a bone needle threaded with deer gut. He would use this to tie up the baby¡¯s cord and anything that needed sewing up on Wiinizik. He shuddered at the thought of pushing that sharp thing through the skin of any living person. At the foot of Wiinizik¡¯s pallet was a basket filled scraps of suede and cattail fluff, to soak up the blood.


    As Ajijaak watched his woman¡¯s labored breathing he wondered, how much blood there would be? He had slaughtered many animals, and seen much blood, but the thought of his woman¡¯s blood only intensified the queasy feeling in his stomach. Still the worst tool of all in the birth process, at least to Ajijaak¡¯s mind, was the stick, the stick with teeth marks from Wiinizik¡¯s mother. The marks were deep and clearly defined. Wiinizik¡¯s mother had not lived long after Wiinizik¡¯s birth. He hated the stick. He hated what it stood for and he did not understand why Wiinizik wanted it.


    Wiinizik demanded, ¡°Give me some medicine!¡±


    If he could speak he would tell her it was too hot. Signs were a slow way of communication in birthing. He picked up a wooden spoon and blew on the liquid, when it was cool, he poured it down Wiinizik¡¯s throat. She gasped as she swallowed it and then demanded more.


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    Ajijaak¡¯s mind was a jumble. What had she told him the sisters said? She was to sip it slowly? He must not give it to her too fast. By the time he gave her another sip she hated him and told him so, then after she had swallowed the medicine she repented in tears and sobs. He saw a wave of pain seize her body. All of her muscles became taut. She cried out, the sound was more piercing than that of the coyote or even the wolf. Her hand groped for the stick. He pushed it toward her grasping fingers. She clasped it and put in her mouth. She bit down so hard Ajijaak feared she would break her beautiful teeth.


    The sounds that came from his beloved were more animal than human. It seemed life required something deep and basic to come to fruition. Misko-amik seemed untroubled by noise or the fear that was taking place behind him. The old man kept his back firmly to them. What Ajijaak could not hear or see were the moving lips of Misko-amik as he silently chanted. Ajijaak¡¯s entire focus was on Wiinizik. Her removed the stick from between her teeth when her body relaxed. Quickly he spooned some of the sisters¡¯ mixture into her mouth. This continued until all the medicine was gone and still the baby had not come. Panic that he had just been able to keep battened down took hold of Ajijaak. Why would this child not enter the world? Did it know who had fathered it and wanted no part of him? His thoughts became wilder and wilder as he clung to his woman¡¯s hand. She was so pale, and her body was being rocked by waves of pain like the Great Sea during a violent storm. He was thankful it had taken so long to plant a baby in his woman, he wished he had never done so in the first place. As all reason began to leave him, he hear Wiinizik murmur, ¡°I feel the baby sliding out of me. Soon, be ready, her head will appear.¡±


    Within moments just as she had predicted, a small baby came into the world. Only the baby was not a girl, but a boy. So sure had Wiinizik been of this child¡¯s gender, her sureness had convinced Ajijaak of its validity. The boy let out a loud squall, a sound like the wind that shrieked outside. The ugly after birth spilled out. Ajijaak handed the baby to Winiizik. With the deer gut he tied off the baby¡¯s umbilical cord and then with sharp knife severed the child from the afterbirth. While he cleaned up the messiness of birth, Wiinizik gently wiped off the frothy substance that clung to the baby with a suede cloth. Misko-amik had come to her side. His fingers traced the tiny hand of the new boy. A huge smile split his face when Wiinizik said, ¡°We have a boy.¡±


    Ajijaak did not hear any disappointment in his woman¡¯s voice. Her eyes were full of her son. Carefully she wrapped her boy in soft blankets. A strange coldness swept through Ajijaak, loneliness he could not understand. Wiinizik looked from the face of her child to her man. She smiled at him, and the cold loneliness vanished. She held the baby out to him.


    He took his child into his arms. How wobbly and tiny this creature was. His eyes seamed shut like those of a baby rabbit. His skin was the softest skin Ajijaak had ever touched. This child was part of him. A male child. He felt the weight of this burden. He had not had a good father, but he prayed with his whole spirit that somehow he could be a good father.

 Chapter 37. Familiar

    Ziibi awoke from sound sleep. In her ears echoed the cry of a newborn baby. She heard the sound of the blizzard and thought it must just have been the wind. As she laid waiting for sleep to reclaim her, she became aware of another presence in the house. The wind was too shrill for her to hear anything but its shrieking, but she sensed someone was there. She opened her eyes and looked at the fire. Huddled beside it was a person, covered in robes. By the width of the shoulders and the length of the body Ziibi suspected this was a man and he was asleep. Her heart began to beat fast. Was this the unknown benefactor, sheltering himself in the sisters¡¯ winter home? If so, she would see him in the morning and know who he was, finally. Excitement stirred her to greater wakefulness. She stared long and hard at his graying black hair. His head had a fine shape. One of his hands had slipped from beneath the robes revealing strong thick fingers. The fingers seemed strangely familiar, like she had seen them on another¡¯s hand, but whose? She studied the hand so long that she drifted back into the land of dreams.


    In her dreams she was moving down a swift river and the sky was the color blueberries. A boy was in the canoe with her. His hand held a small paddle and the paddle moved swiftly though the water.She could not see his face, but he was singing, and the voice he possessed was that of a bird, not a raucous crow but a songbird. She tried to understand his words, but she could not. She leaned forward and touched his shoulder. He turned to her and smiled. He was a handsome boy, with fine features. His hair was the color of the blueberry sky. Stars began to poke the surface of the night. The boy turned away from her and began to coo, the soft coo of the dove. All at once Ziibi was aware of someone she had greatly missed. It was Mikwam. He was curled in the center of the canoe. She scooped her Guardian into her arms. His body was not cold, but glowing with warmth and life. Happiness stole through her.


    *


    The next morning when Ziibi awoke, the blizzard had spent itself. A strange sadness filled her. It had been good to be with Mikwam, even if only in her dream. Would he come to her again? She prayed so. All at once she forgot her dream and remembered the man. Was he still there? She raised herself up on her elbows and looked at the fire. Mitigomin was stirring a pot of spiced sugar rice. She smiled at Ziibi and said, ¡°You slept through the storm. It was a short one. It looks like this day will be fair.¡±


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    Ziibi¡¯s eyes swept the parameters of the house. Her crane still slept in his basket. His wing had yet to mend. Mitigoka sat in the shadows grinding some bark in a stone bowl with a pestle. No one else was there. Where was the man? She could not ask, but she could say what she saw. ¡°I did not sleep so much, I was awake and I saw a man sleeping by our fire.¡±


    Mitigomin¡¯s face did not even change. She nodded, but did not say more. This meant the man was none of Ziibi¡¯s business and no further questions were invited. Though questions were not wanted, Ziibi still told what she saw. ¡°He had graying hair, and thick strong fingers. I have seen such a hand before, but I do not remember where.¡±


    Mitgokaa stopped her grinding and said, ¡°When it is time, you will remember.¡±


    Frustrated Ziibi looked away from the sisters lest they see the anger that was growing inside of her. She wished her tongue was sharper, she wished she was bolder, but no she was obedient and also trusting. These sisters treated her well, she must not risk their displeasure by further conversation. She got off her pallet and rolled up her robes. She went to the fire and held her hands out to it. While she squatted there, her eyes examined the place where the man had slept, there was not a single trace of him. Who was he and were did he go? She took the bowl of rice handed her and ate automatically. The wind was still blowing outside and it would have erased all traces of whichever direction the man had headed. He must not live far from them, though. Fish and rabbits appeared regularly at their door flap. He seemed to know instinctively when fresh food was needed. Deep down, Ziibi resolved to find him.


    Once again, Mitgokaa ceased her grinding of bark and spoke, ¡°Curiosity run wild leads to harm.¡±


    Though this truth had proved itself many times over the course of other lives, Ziibi had yet to try it in her own. Like all things not yet experienced, the reality of consequences could not be grasped. When Ziibi finished her breakfast, she took up the small stone bowl and pestle that the sisters had given her. From their store of herbs she took some dogbane root and began to grind it. The powder she made would be used for headaches. It could be snuffed up the nose as the powder itself, or put on hot stones. Another way it could be used was to moisten it with lukewarm water and apply it to a paste over incisions the sisters made on a patient¡¯s temples. Ziibi had never seen this done, nor did she want to. With each day that passed she learned more about medicine and the more she learned about medicine the more she preferred it to the actual thought of treating people. There was too much bloodletting and pain in treatment. Deep inside she shrank from the thought of cutting people open, or lancing their skin.


    The crane woke up and demanded to be fed.


    *

 Chapter 38. In the Air

    Outside Ziibi felt the first stir of the wind¡¯s warm breath. It was barely perceptible but she sensed the change. She sniffed the air. It seemed she smelled the Spring crouching beneath the snow waiting to burst to life. She thought, It is not time yet. She looked around their camp. Her crane, his wing now mended walked in the snow leaving triangle tracks. She did not know if he could fly, because he had yet to attempt it.Suddenly, she was aware that someone was watching her. With a slow movement of her head, she scanned the area. She heard one faint footfall behind her but that was all. She turned as fast as she could, but no one was there. Not an instant did she waste. She ran to the place where she had heard the sound, and she saw for the first time the prints of the man. He had left two large frogs still covered in mud. The frogs were frozen.


    With sharp eyes she stared, and felt the temptation to follow the path left in the snow. She could follow him, and find out who he was. Just as she raised her foot to dash into the forest Mitgokaa called, ¡°Bring those frogs here, and do not go running off.¡±


    Later, if the wind did not pick up, Ziibi would be able to follow the tracks. The wind was an unpredictable entity and could erase the trail before she had the chance to sneak off. She picked up the two frozen frogs and took them to Mitgokaa.


    The Mitigokaa¡¯s eyes were kind. She smiled and the scar on her cheek curved into the shape of the moon. ¡°You are a good girl. Now, tether your crane, it is time we went to the sugar camp.¡±


    ¡°Already?¡±


    ¡°Yes, breathe in the air.¡±


    Ziibi did.


    ¡°Can you not smell the change?¡±


    She had misjudged the timing. It had seemed near, but not now. Mitigokaa had not made the same mistake. In the sugar bush the maple trees waited knowing that their sap was about to rise. On the wind soft whispers came to her. The whispers be longed to he Maples. Their tree voices penetrated the air. Why had she not noticed this before?


    Mitgokaa continued, ¡°We must make repairs on the lodge before the others come we are the closest to it.¡±


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    Ziibi went inside and packed her bedding and loaded it onto the pack board. As she packed her things, she came across the small drum that Wiinizik had given her. Surely by now she had had her baby. Had it been a boy or a girl? With one finger, Ziibi tapped the drum. It made a small hollow beat sound that echoed in the silence of the house. She shoved it into her pack and again and it spoke one single beat that did not echo.


    Once she finished with her own packing, she took the sisters rolled up bedding and piled it on top of hers. The tether she had made for her crane, she slipped around his neck. He did not much like the tether, but he knew it meant they were going somewhere. He made a strange noise in his throat. Ziibi wondered if he too knew the seasons were changing and soon his people would return. Mitgokaa loaded her pack board with birch bark rolls to repair the walls of the sugar bush lodge, while Mitigomin carried sheets of cedar bark to repair the lodge¡¯s roof. Each carried a bag of supplies around their neck and each had their medicine bags tied to their waists. Each bag was made from the full skin of a badger. Their empty skins had been sewn whole and were now body bloated with tools and medicines. Ziibi had her own badger skin, but her medicines were few as were her tools. Her badger was flat and thin. One day it would be full too, but that would take much time and experience. After putting on put on their snowshoes,they lifted their packs onto their backs and headed out across the fresh snow.


    Wistfully Ziibi looked at the direction the man¡¯s footprints had made in the snow. She would not see him again until next winter. When sugar-making time was over, they would return to the village.


    Laden down, their snow shoed feet made large tracks. The crane minced along beside Ziibi until his feet grew too cold to walk. She held out her arms and he leapt into them. He was heavy. His plumage was beginning to change to that of a full adult. The ochre colored feathers were being replaced by silvered gray ones. His yellow eyes looked around him. They were as clear as two suns. A strange sense of joy stole through Ziibi. She sniffed the air. Spring was coming. Spring. The world would loose its white coat and be put on the soft greens and yellows of spring. For a while she walked in complete happiness. In time though, the combination of her pack, holding her crane in her arms and walking through the snow wearied her. The sisters unencumbered by a large bird walked swiftly ahead. The distance between Ziibi and the sisters was steadily increasing. Sudden anger flashed in Ziibi. The crane was big and heavy and she was tired of carrying him. She wished he could walk, no she wished he could fly. It was a temptation to throw him into the air and force him to test his wing, but it was one she resisted. The crane would know when and if he was ready to fly. She looked up, clouds scudded above the tree line. What would it be like to be able to soar above trees? Once her crane had done so. Would he do it again? Fiercely, she whispered, ¡°Please remember to fly, you have wings, why don¡¯t you use them?¡±


    The crane merely turned his head toward her and blinked. He liked being carried. Stupid bird. The anger in Ziibi caused her to quicken her pace. She caught up to the sisters but did not speak to either of them. As they passed through a grove of white pines, Ziibi felt something inside of her twitch, an awareness she had never had before. A wordless voice seemed to cry out to her. She turned to the sound of it and saw a young pine tree. Its delicate branches were dusted with snow. She turned from it, but she felt the same inner pull again. The sisters kept walking. Ziibi took another step, but the little pine still begged for her attention. She turned and went to it. There was medicine in this tree¡¯s bark, medicine that would be needed. When? The tree did not say. She put the crane down and pulled her stone knife from her badger pouch. With a deft movement of her wrists she sliced through the tough outer bark and pulled it back to reveal the inner bark. She cut a long thin slat of the inner bark and rolled it into a coil. After she put it and her knife away, she scooped up the crane and looked for the sisters. They had gotten far ahead of her again. Now drained of her anger, she followed. Would another tree speak to her, would another plant whisper of its healing property? Excitement filled her.

 Chapter 39. To Travel

    A dark presence seemed to rest over their home. Some evil spirit had been stirred or offended and as hard as Ajijaak tried he could figure out what he had done wrong. Since the birth of their baby, Wiinizik had retreated into a silent, listless place. She spoke seldom, did not cry or laugh. Faithfully she ate and fed the baby, but she slept a lot. Misko-amik was not doing well either. The pain from the cold was in his bones and he could not find relief. He did not sleep well. His wakefulness did help Ajijaak attend the baby, though. Misko-amik would wake him and tell him it was time for the baby to feed. The baby slept between them. He would nudge Wiinizik awake and she would give her breast to the baby. The baby would nurse contentedly. He was a contented child who seldom fretted. Which was fortunate considering all that his mother seemed unable to do. The baby delighted in his mother¡¯s nearness.


    Presently Ajijaak held the baby while Wiinizik slept. He longed to speak gentle words to his son, but he could not. He wondered what name his son would be given. He prayed it was a good name that would speak well of his future. He was such a beautiful child. His long black lashes framed eyes as dark as night. His skin was the color of sand and his limbs were growing strong and fat. Ajijaak could think of many names for his child, but he was not the one who would name him. Wiinizik had chosen an uncle of hers to name their child. When they reached their sugar bush, she would ask him to name their baby. Until the time a name was given the baby was known simply as Baby or Son. Once they asked the uncle they would have to wait until he had dreamed a dream that revealed the name of their child. It might take a year or more. It did not matter. The child Ajijaak held in his arms held the future in his small body. He was man in seed form, waiting to be watered by the experiences of life. Ajijaak looked into the bright dark eyes of his son, and wondered what thoughts formed behind those eyes. Did he dream already? He cuddled his son close and looked with concern at his woman. He was very worried about her. She needed medicine. Perhaps one of her aunts would have medicine to stop this sleeping sickness. He had heard his noko speak of women who lost their will to live, after giving life.


    Rapped in his furs Misko-amik, sat by the fire. He was in much pain. He could see the concern in Ajijaak¡¯s eyes, yet he remained silent. He was waiting; waiting for the question Ajijaak would ask when he was ready to hear the answer.


    With the baby still in his arms Ajijaak went to the old man. He sat down and thrust his head in Wiinizik¡¯s direction. He shifted the baby to one arm and wrote symbols in the ashes.


    The time had come. Ajijaak saw Misko-amik brace himself. Fear filled him.The words he was about to hear would be hard.


    In a low voice Misko-amik began, ¡°When you first came to us, I knew you were the one. The one who would make drums and also learn the history and re-record it. I did not know that you would come to harbor my granddaughter¡¯s heart. If I had, I would have sent you away. The women in my family do not bear children well, and it is a curse upon us. My sisters each succumbed to this curse. After giving life, their own life began to ebb until the flow of it stopped all together. When my woman and I had our first child, he was a boy and there was no danger in loosing him to sickness. He is still living. Our second child was a girl and she was such a happy child, I did not believe she would catch the sickness. I was wrong. After my daughter gave birth to Wiinizik. Her life began to ebb. Her man left her and found solace in another. One day she went out into the forest and did not return. We never found her. When I journey the Path of Souls I will know whether she is in this world or the other. Soon,¡± he took in a jagged breath, ¡°soon, I will know.¡±


    Ajijaak looked at his beautiful Wiinizik. He would not be able to bear it if she just disappeared one day. They must get medicine for her. His noko would know what she needed. They would go to his family¡¯s sugar bush. He signed his plans to the old man.


    Misko-amik nodded. ¡°Yes, you should take her there. Your noko is wise. Perhaps she can cure her. I have heard that Mikinak is a good medicine man, perhaps he too, will be able to help.¡±


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    Ajijaak folded his arms out and took one hand and began to raise it. They would leave at first light in the morning.


    The old man nodded, but there was something in his gesture that troubled Ajijaak.


    *


    The next morning Ajijaak was awakened by the cries of his son. Morning light filtered through the edges of the doorflap. It was late. Misko-amik was usually awake by now. He placed his son at his mother¡¯s breast and went to the pile of furs where Misko-amik lay sleeping. He crouched down beside the old man. No breath came out his nostrils. Alarmed Ajijaak knelt down and listened to his heart. It was silent.


    Slowly Ajijaak stood.


    Wiinizik, who had not spoken in two days asked, ¡°What is it?¡±


    Ajijaak turned, wishing he had the power of speech. To say the words would be faster than signing them out. He moved his hands to form Misko-amik¡¯s spirit leaving his body.


    Wiinizik¡¯s face did not change expression. She nodded, turned her attention back to her baby and closed her eyes.


    When the baby was fed, and rocked back to sleep, Wiinizik got up from her pallet and went to her grandfather¡¯s body. She said, ¡°Go get me some water so I may bathe and prepare my grandfather for his final journey.¡±


    Ajijaak did as he was told. The wonder of seeing her up, gave his heart a small bubble of hope. He took a large birch bark basket and filled it with the snow, and then he placed the snow in the watertight basket Wiinizik had rigged high over the fire. He went outside and got more snow.


    When there was enough water in the basket, Ajijaak tried to help Wiinizik, but she would not let him.She said, ¡°It is not fitting for a man to prepare the dead. I can do this.¡± With an edge in her voice she added, ¡°I will do this.¡±


    Knowing she was right, Ajijaak went to the pallet where his son slept. His long dark lashes fanned against his round cheeks. He was a healthy baby, and must stay so. His health depended on that of his mother. How would this loss affect Wiinizik? Her face remained expressionless as she bathed her grandfather.She neatly braided his gray hair and plucked all his facial hair. With trembling fingers she pulled his best buckskins onto his old body. Ajijaak leapt up to help her, but she motioned for him to remain where he was. Next she placed her grandfather¡¯s drum making tools beside him along with his best knife, his bone pencil and his favorite fishing basket. He would need these things on his journey to the Land of Souls. Her eyes were tearless. Usually women wailed and keened as they made these preparations. The silence was worse than such racket. It frightened, Ajijaak.


    With her knife, Wiinizik cut off a lock of Misko-amik¡¯s hair. She wrapped it in a sheet of thin birch bark. She put it in the bag she wore around her neck. Then she motioned for Ajijaak and the baby to join her. If Misko-amik had died in summer, his other relations would be beside him too, but here¡­here there was only the three of them.


    Ajijaak did not know what would happen next. It was not customary for a woman to speak words over the dead. Doing so might give Misko-amik a bad start down the Path of Souls.


    Beyond the door flap, a voice shouted, ¡°I have come.¡±


    Wiinizik was not disturbed by the voice, but Ajijaak was. He started to stand but Wiinizik placed her hand on his shoulder and made him sit still. She called, ¡°Thank you for coming.¡±


    Tensely Ajijaak waited for someone to enter, but no one did.


    Outside the man began chant:


    Our brother, you leave us,


    Our brother, you are leaving,


    Our brother, your spirit


    Our brother, on the Path of Souls


    Our brother, to the Land of Souls you are bound. (Ojibway Ceremonies, by Basil Johnston 1982, Bison Books, pgs.133-134)


    The voice swung from the chant to a song like voice. ¡°Misko-amik you are still among us waiting to journey far, far to the Land of Souls. There you will know no sickness, or envy, or anger, or hunger. It is a land of peace, where only men and women who walked in peace enter. You our brother were a man of peace. A man of kindness. You used your dreams and your gifts for the good of your family and your people. The drums you have made will echo long in our land. They will remind us of who we are, we are the people.¡±


    Wiinizik began to keen. Her cries mingled with the words the unseen voice spoke. A sense of peace began to steal through Ajijaak. It was good that her grief come out. His noko had taught him that grief supressed poisoned the living.


    When the voice had ceased, so did Wiinizik. She went to her pallet and lay down completely spent. She held out her arms for her child and Ajijaak placed the baby in them. He needed to go out to prepare the grave, but he was afraid to leave her. He lingered waiting, unsure of what to do. Aware of him Wiinizik said, ¡°He will begin the grave. Do not leave me yet, Ajijaak, I am afraid.¡±


    He went to her and scooped her and the baby into his arms. Against his cheek, Wiinizik whispered, ¡°How could Nimishoomis go now? I need him so much now.¡±


    Ajijaak did not know.

 Chapter 40. The Rabbit

    In her body Ziibi felt the rush of nature rising to the warmth of promised spring. Beneath the thin crust of snow, the seeds and roots were beginning their journey toward becoming fruitful. She felt her spirit growing toward this same fruitfulness. Her life was beginning, her journey was about to be mapped out to her. This feeling was not something she could explain, but something she knew deep inside. The time of childhood was behind her and she was ready to be an adult. All winter she had fought the reality of who she was becoming, this morning she laid down the struggle. The plants beneath the soil whispered to her of their healing and nourishing properties. The evergreens of pine, and cedar and spruce told the wind that moved around her that they were filled with good and healing medicines. Under her father¡¯s teachings she had learned about remedies. What was happing now was not learning, but a conversation with life itself, her own life and all of life.


    The white pine bark she had brought to the sugar camp had been needed when they arrived. They had not been the first family to come as the sisters had supposed. Their elder brother, Agongos was there. He was a small fat man with a very big smile. Mitigomin had told her later that he was their father¡¯s first woman¡¯s son. They did not have the same mother.


    Agongos¡¯ youngest daughter who was around seven winters old, had a wound on her left hand that would not heal. Her father did not know what had scratched the girl, but Ziibi knew. It was the scratch of a rabbit claw. She had looked into the girl¡¯s eyes and known she had gotten the scratch from freeing a rabbit from a trap. This was the first time a wound had spoken its truth to her. She wondered if this would happen again.


    To heal the wound, she had pounded the bark into a pulpy mash and boiled it, then she had put the mash on the wound and wrapped it in clean suede strips. After two days the wound began to heal. It was the first case she had ever treated on her own. So far it looked like it might be her first cure too.


    From the lodge came the voices of the women and children. The sugar lodge was big, long and rectangular. It was covered in birch bark with a cedar plank roof. Beside it was the small house that stored the tools for sugar making. Agongos¡¯ little daughter, Waabigwan*, called Ziibi to the lodge. Ziibi had left her to care for the crane. The little girl loved animals too much. Her love was misguided. Animals were to be honored and revered but they were a provision bestowed by the Great Mystery to the people. If an animal wandered into a trap, it was intended to be food to nourish and strengthen the people. It was not destined to be rescued. Ziibi could only wonder what had become of the mean spirited rabbit that had scratched Waabigwan.


    The little girl¡¯s voice called out again. Reluctantly Ziibi went to the lodge.She did her best to be patient with this child. In some ways she reminded Ziibi ofherself. She was very independent and had a mind of her own. Both got her into trouble sometimes. As soon as she rounded the maple brush, Waabigwan saw her. The child ran to her. In an exasperated whisper she said, ¡°The aunts won¡¯t let me bringBibiwan into the lodge.¡±


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    Ziibi did not like that she had named the crane. To name an animal meant to wish to possess it. This crane needed to return to his own people. She said, ¡°Of course they do not want him in the lodge he will get feathers in the sugar.¡±


    ¡°I think they are mean.¡±


    Ziibi did not verbally concur, but she, at times felt the same way about them. She asked, ¡°Where is the crane now?¡±


    ¡°He is in his basket. He is tired of me. He tried to nip me. I was not showing him proper respect. Still it is cold and he wants to be warm.¡±


    ¡°No, he is fine, you just want to be warm and you want him with you.¡±


    The child did not hesitate when she said, ¡°True.¡± All at once Waabigwan¡¯s eyes lit up. She darted around Ziibi and shouted, ¡°Waabooz!¡± A young male voice answered, ¡°Waabigwan!¡±


    Ziibi turned. What she saw made her heart leap and flop inside of her.


    A young man dressed in fine elk skins and a beaver robe caught Waabigwan up into his arms. He asked her, ¡°How is my little flower?¡±


    ¡°I am good.¡±


    The young man¡¯s eyes traveled from the child to Ziibi. He put the girl down and asked, ¡°So, who is this?¡±


    Ziibi felt her face flush. His eyes seemed to take possession of her. They were not black, but a soft muddy brown that had hints of gold in them.


    Waabigwan told, ¡°This is Ziibi. She helps the aunts. She is Midewiwin.¡±


    The young man flashed a smile at Ziibi revealing beautiful teeth. He was the most perfect creature she had ever seen. She stood staring, knowing her mouth had dropped open in awe, but utterly incapable of closing her mouth or speaking.


    The young man teased, ¡°So, you like what you see?¡±


    Stupidly, Ziibi nodded. Never before had any male affected her the way this one did. Her heart was pounding in her ears like a huge drum.


    He laughed, but his laughter did not make her feel foolish. It seemed to wrap around her and invite her into his world. She closed her mouth and smiled shyly. From behind her Mitgokaa called, ¡°It is about time you got here, your mother has been worried.¡±


    He looked beyond Ziibi. ¡°I was hunting.¡±


    ¡°For a woman no doubt,¡± teased his aunt.


    He shook his head, then his eyes returned to Ziibi. They seemed to pull at her core in some mysterious way. It was an unfamiliar feeling and one she did not understand. Ziibi dropped her eyes, instantly aware of this young man¡¯s cunning and her own danger due to his experience. As he passed by her, he lightly brushed his hand against hers. A spark crackled between them. In a low voice he asked, ¡°Did you feel that?¡±


    Ziibi could not lie. ¡°Yes.¡± She listened to his steps as he made his way into the lodge. Waabigwan said, ¡°Waabooz likes you. I can tell. Would you like to be his woman?¡±


    Embarrassed by such a question. Ziibi did not answer. He would never choose her. He might only play with her. If she was beautiful like her sister, then she might have a chance. But, Ziibi knew she was not a good catch. She was not ugly, but she was also not beautiful enough to match the beauty of Waabooz. Her noko had warned her about cunning young men. She must be careful.

 Chapter 41. In the Night

    With Waabooz there only one more family was expected. Waabooz said he had passed them on the way, and that they should be there tomorrow. Tomorrow the sugar making would begin. The trees would be tapped. The baskets would catch the moving sap. Ziibi could feel the rush upwards of the sap in her own body. The weather was turning to perfection. The sap would flow and there would be an abundance of sugar.Large stones had been stacked by the fires in the lodge.Along each side of the lodge were planks raised about a foot off the ground. These planks ran the length of both walls and were about three feet wide. On these planks were the sleeping robes and possessions of the families. Ziibi sat wrapped in her robes away from the fires that burned in the center of the lodge.She felt wary. Waabooz did not even try of hide his interest in her. His eyes were ever straying in her direction.His father seemed to be encouraging him with sly smiles. It made Ziibi uncomfortable.


    Not only was Waabooz making her uncomfortable the odd feeling he stirred in her did not help. She did not like these feelings. They frightened her. Never had she feared loosing possession of herself, but tonight she did. It was as if, he were weaving some magic trap around her with each glance in her direction. She tore herself free of such thoughts, and stood. She would go outside and check on her crane. She knew his eyes followed her, but she ignored him.


    Outside the sky was clear and the stars large between the branches of the maples. She hesitated for a moment, in that moment, the doorflap opened. She felt a hand encircle her wrist. It was like the loop of a snare. The hand did not press, it just held. She pulled it away. Waabooz did not speak, but he did not go inside. He followed her to the crane¡¯s basket. While she tended to the bird, he stood silent. She could feel his eyes her. The crane looked up at the sky. Was this bird dreaming of flight? She hoped so. Waabooz moved a step closer to her. Quickly she covered the crane¡¯s basket with a heavy robe. When she stood, Waabooz did not reach for her, but he followed he too closely. Though he was not speaking words aloud, every bit of him was speaking in a silent language that screamed for her attention. It took all her power not to respond.


    That night, Mitigomin and Mitgokka put Ziibi between them. She had been sleeping further down the plank by herself. Tonight Mitigomin insisted, ¡°You sleep here.¡± It had been in her Midewiwin voice which demanded obedience. Ziibi did as she was told. Later, when every one was asleep, or at least Ziibi thought everyone was asleep. She heard a rustling from the other side of the lodge. She opened one eye and watched Waabooz creep like a lynx across the floor. He was coming to her. How could he be so bold with his aunts so near? She closed her eyes. She would feign sleep no matter what he tried.


    When he had almost reached her, the firm voice of Mitigomin hissed, ¡°Back to bed with you. Ziibi is a Midewiwin in training and you will not molest her.¡±


    Waabooz made an agitated noise in his throat. It was an angry sound, defiant in its inflection. Trouble had just been stirred. What would the outcome be? Ziibi heard him turn and go back to his own pallet.


    *


    The sap was rising swiftly as the sun warmed the day. As she worked among the trees tending the baskets and drips, she sometimes placed her hands on the maple trunks. Beneath the bark Ziibi could feel the flow surging upward from the roots. When a basket was full enough, she would take it into the lodge. Inside the lodge large stones were heated in a fire that ran through the center of the lodge. Beside the stones were baskets with sap. When the stones were hot enough the women would pick up the stones with cupped wooden paddles and place them in the baskets. This caused the sap to bubble so the sweetness would separate from the sap. At night, if it was cold enough to freeze, they would put shallow baskets full of sap outside. During the night the liquid would freeze. When it was frozen the ice would be skimmed off. This process was repeated until the sugar was separated. It fascinated Ziibi to participate in the sugar making process. Fire and ice both could draw sugar out of the sap. It was a continuing miracle to her.


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    As Ziibi worked she was constantly aware of Waabooz when he was near. She felt his eyes, she could sense his intense interest in her. She kept her distance. Though neither of the sisters had said anything to her, she knew they did not want her to associate with this young man. Yet, each time he came into her periferal vision she could not help but glance in his direction. Often their eyes met. Each time they did, she felt herselfbeing drawn to him. She did not like the feeling and yet she found herself seeking out his eyes again.


    Ziibi took another basket of sap into the lodge. He was there, by the fire. He looked up at her, and she met his gaze full on this time. Her mouth did not drop open as she stared at his lovely face. She kept herself steady, and the steadiness was hard to maintain. All at once she recognized a power in him. King. He was Midewiwin too. All at once she was aware of a the darkness of his power. There was something about the sheen in his eyes and his look that made her think of the Snake King. Her noko¡¯s voice said in her memory, ¡°What if the Snake King tricks you?¡±


    She remembered her response, ¡°He would not trick me. I would kill him.¡±


    Vividly her grandmother¡¯s face appeared in her mind. The anger and concern in her voice echoed her expression, ¡°What if he hears your challenge, what if he seeks you out?¡±


    The impression was so strong, Ziibi dropped her eyes. There was a darkness in Waabooz. A darkness that was calling her to find the darkness within herself. All power could be used for good or evil. Her father was good, the sisters were good, but this young man had touched in some way the bad. This knowing frightened her because of her attraction to it. Her noko had told her evil was often disguised in pretty wrappings. She poured the sap into a waiting basket and went back outside. His eyes followed her, but he did not.


    She left the sugar bush and went to check on her crane. Waabibwan and some of her cousins were playing near the cage. She hated that the crane had to be kept like this. She missed the nearness of him at night. He had been a guarding spirit to her and filled the void the absence of Mikwam had left. Where was her spirit guide now? She looked around at the silent woods. What she would not give for a glimpse of him. She wanted, needed his protection. Waabooz was bad, and yet she wanted to be near him. Always she had been in possession of her own spirit. Now her spirit felt threathened. The flesh that encased her spirit was yearning for Waabooz. Why? What was this strangeness he stirred up inside of her?


    The crane squawked at her. She went to his basket cage and took it off. There was a stream near by and she would take him there to fish for himself. When the children saw what she was doing, they tagged along. At the stream Ziibi put the young crane down. He looked at himself the sluggish water that flowed. A few fish swam. Instantly he was on them, scooping one up in his beak. All at once, with fish in his beak, the crane spread his wings and flew. Ziibi watched him top the trees. The sound of his wings were in her ears. How could he fly so suddenly? Bound to earth then free? Perhaps the confines of the cage had inspired him to try his wings. The crane continued to fly. Waabigwan cried, ¡°He is getting away!¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Ziibi said, ¡°He is reclaiming his freedom.¡± She watched him until she could see him no more.

 Chapter 42. Of Choice

    At first the move to the sugar bush had seemed like the right choice. As the days passed and sugar time faded into Spring Ajijaak began to regret this choice. With her family Wiinizik hid her sadness, but at home alone she did not. When Ajijaak tried to engage her in conversation she often pretended not to see Ajijaak¡¯s signals. A distance had formed between them and grew wider with the passing of each night.She did not want his affection. She did not even seem to want his presence. He knew he should have taken her to his noko, but here, entrenched in her family, he knew she would not go with him, now.The Spring with all its bright flowers, flowers that Wiinizik usually rejoiced in turned to Summer. She did not get better, but she did not get worse. If only the sisters would come to the village, like they came to the island. The sisters would help her, but the village had its own Midewiwin and they would not trespass on his territory. Ajijaak had gone to him and gotten various concoctions which Wiinizik took to appease him, but they did no good.


    It was late evening. Ajijaak had finished his latest drum. It was a beautiful medicine drum made of white cedar, with an elk skin perfectly stretched across its top. He pounded one beat on it. The sound of it sent a shiver through him, it called to a power he had yet to access. Something deep inside of him felt that who ever this drum was created for would have the power to heal his woman. The villages would be meeting soon. It had been a long time since he had attended a large meeting. For weeks he had been practicing dances to share with the people.


    From his cradleboard his son cooed to him. Ajijaak went to his boy and unwrapped him from his binding. The soft root and moss fibers that absorbed the baby¡¯s liquid needed to be changed. He washed his son with the water Wiinizik had prepared for him. Once the baby was clean, Ajijaak lay him down on a pallet and changed the content of his cradleboard. His son kicked his strong brown legs. He bright eyes formed contended slits in his face as he cooed and shrieked his delight.


    His son smiled up at him. As always a sense of awe and thanksgiving passed through Ajijaak. If only Wiinzik¡¯s Uncle Makade-amik would give this baby a name. He had yet to dream of a name.Sometimes it took many seasons for the namer to dream a name. He prayed it would not be so for his son. He needed to know that his child¡¯s life would be better than his own had been. A name would tell him a bit about his baby¡¯s destiny.


    Once he finished with the cradleboard Ajijak picked up his son and held him in his arms. Silently he asked, Who are you little one?The baby laughed clearly revealing the white of his first tooth. It had at last broken through the skin. He had been very fractious when his little tooth was making its way to the surface. The last few days, his fussiness had driven Wiinizik out of the house often. Where she went Ajijaak did not know.


    At dusk Wiinizik returned. Ajijaak showed her the little tooth in their son¡¯s mouth. He had thought the sight of it would bring Wiinizik some joy. It did not. She looked at it and said, ¡°Such noise for such a little scrap.¡± She took the baby from Ajijaak and went to the shadowed side of the house to nurse her child.


    Inside the hurt of rejection began to swirl. Ajijaak struggled to push it away. All his life he had suffered rejection. Here in the village, though he provided well for his family, and was honest and courteous, he was still a speechless man. It was not that he was looked down upon, so much as it was that his limitations made him obviously different. His gift, also made his different too. When he danced he drew people to his spirit and the spirits beyond earth¡¯s vision. When Midewiwin came to buy special drums for healing, they would tell him, of the power of his drums. These things comforted him, but they also set him firmly apart. To be so deficient and yet so gifted was a strange combination. It left him caught in a world where he exceeded expectations or he fell far below them in the eyes of others. Wiinizik¡¯s family admired his skills, but barely tolerated his lacks. Often, when they thought he could not hear them, the women would shake their head over the poor choice Misko-amik had made for his granddaughter. They thought that Wiinizik¡¯s feigned happiness was Ajijaak¡¯s fault. Was it his fault? If he could force her to listen to him, if he could encourage her with words she needed to hear would she get better?


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    When Wiinizik finished nursing the baby, she wrapped him in his cradleboard. She came to Ajijaak and said, ¡°Today I went to my uncle¡¯s house. My aunt told me that the Meeting of theMidewiwin will be held in our village. This is good. Your medicine drums are powerful and will be sought after.¡± This was a rare compliment, from she who once lavished them upon him.


    Ajijaak nodded his head, grateful to grasp at any morsel of kindness she threw him.


    She continued, ¡°My uncle told me that he has dreamed the baby¡¯s name. He said that we will wait until the village meeting. If your family is able to come, we will share the naming ceremony with them.¡±


    If they came, they must come! In his heart, he believed his noko would be able to help Wiinizik. For the first time in months true hope took hold inside of him. He signed his thanks to Wiinizik. Her face remained expressionless as she said, ¡°I knew you would like that. I know it is hard to live with me now. I am trying Ajijaak. I am trying to come back to you and myself.¡± She turned away from him and went to her pallet. She wrapped herself up tightly.


    Ajijaak went to her and motioned to her about eating.


    ¡°I can¡¯t see you Ajijaak. Just let me sleep. I am tired.¡±


    Always sleep. Sleep. He wanted to ask her if dreams came to her. He wanted to hold her and rock her and bring her back to him. He wanted to know the joy they had once shared as their bodies merged. He turned away from his woman, and went to the fire to cook his own fish. For now he would hold on to the hope his noko held the answer to this sickness. She had tended many women during her life. Help was coming, he just must be patient. He could be patient. Wiinizik was his life.


    *


    The Midewiwin lodge was repaired. The village was ready. Even Wiinizik¡¯s mood had lifted in anticipation of the festivities. Ajijaak had his dance stories memorized and he could imagine himself before the fire, telling the stories he had learned from the birch bark book he had copied out. The first guest arrived. A group of canoes from the nearest village. All through out the day, canoes came, or people arrived on foot. The village had temporary shelters springing up all around it. There was power in community and much gossip. As the men sat around the fire that night they talked. One man said the Sioux were on the warpath at the fringes of the plains. Others told of marriages that were being arranged. Ajijaak was only idly listening until he heard the a name that caught all of his attention.


    The speaker said, ¡°Mikinaak¡¯s youngest daughter is of age. She has spent the last cycle of seasons with the Sisters. They say she has much power, and is not proud. A young man, also Midewiwin desires her for his woman. I doubt Mikinaak will give his youngest to the likes of Wabooz. He is a smart fellow, but with such a name, one wonders.¡±


    The topic turned to other things, but Ajijaak¡¯s mind recalled the night Ziibi had told him she was his woman. Such a little bit of girl then, so sure of herself. What would she look like now? Had she become as beautiful as her sister? He doubted it. As much as he cherished his own woman, she did not have that startling beauty that Miinan possessed. What would it be like to see Miinan again? Would she stir old feeling inside of him? No, it was not possible. He was bound to his woman. He returned to listening. It seemed the Sioux might be coming into the forest because of a drought across the prairies. This could be very bad. The Sioux were ruthless and united in war. The People, of whom Ajijaak was a member usually settled their scores as individuals or families, not has large war parties. It would be bad, if the Sioux did attack. It was one of the things that would be discussed once the rest of the villages arrived.


    *


    The next morning when Ajijaak was out checking his fish traps, he saw a canoe gliding toward him. In it were three women. As they neared he recognized the Sisters. Between them sat a young woman he did not recognize, and yet his spirit was drawn to her. He remained holding his empty basket just staring. One of the sisters called, ¡°Ajijaak, don¡¯t just stand their, pull us in.¡±


    Ajijaak dropped the basket and waded out into the water.

 Chapter 43. The Boy

    Within Ziibi¡¯s pouch the little drum she always carried shivered out a single sound. She looked up and saw Ajijaak, him whose form was embedded in her memory and her heart. She felt her spirit leap within her as she watched him near the canoe. He did not know who she was, and she would not tell him. How beautiful he was, with his bare broad chest and unbraided cascade of dark hair. His face was plucked of all whiskers. His long fingers reached the canoe and grabbed hold of it. Ziibi raised her eyes to his. In a single instant, he recognized her, his face registered shock in his recognition. At this Ziibi laughed. She could not help herself. He found her pretty and he hand not expected to. Men were so foolish. She said, ¡°Ajijaak, it has been a long time. You look well.¡±


    Ajijaak dropped his eyes. His face turned red. His reaction to her confused her. What was he thinking? Her spirit reached out to his, willing him to look at her so she could read his eyes. As her spirit reached out, she became aware of a great sadness in him. Something in his life was amiss. He helped the sisters and then Ziibi to shore. At the touch of his hand on hers, Ziibi felt the old jolt, that his touch had always given her, only it was much stronger now that she was a woman. It stirred her deep inside as no caress of Wabooz had ever done. Not that she wanted Wabooz, but she realized that she did still very much want Ajijaak. He belonged to another, she was sure of it. But who? Mitigokaa asked him, ¡°How is Wiinizik?¡±


    Wiinizik! That was the name of the pregnant girl, the girl who had given her the drum that quivered in her pouch, the drum she always kept with her. The drum was the work of Ajijaak¡¯s hands and spirit. It seemed at once as if strange vapors swirled inside of her lifting her up into a realm that was frightening and forbidden. She must not love another woman¡¯s man, but she did. She did not notice the signs that Ajijaak made. She tried to keep her eyes on the path ahead of her.


    Mitigamin dropped her voice low, so low Ziibi, almost did not hear, ¡°We have medicine that may help. Take us to her.¡± This was against code. Mitigamin knew she should consult with the village Midewiwin. Why were these sisters constantly going against tradition? A bad feeling spread inside of Ziibi. Something dark was lurking waiting to consume and destroy. Her father had taught her to follow tradition. Her father had taught her to honor another Midewiwin¡¯s jurisdiction. Did her father know how often these sisters applied their own wills? Surely he did not. Ajijaak should protest this action, but he did not. He nodded and headed out through the thicket to the backside of his house. As she followed behind, Ziibi realized she did not want to see the house where Ajijaak lived, look upon the place where he slept with his woman. She did not want to see his woman, or help his woman. This was bad, an evil worse than the one the sisters were about to commit. She must cast it out and be rid of it, before it took hold of her. It was too late, already it had her.


    The house was on the outer edge of the village. It was secluded from the other houses. A garden of squash and corn grew behind it. Beside the house was a smaller building where Ajijaak kept his drums and drum making tools. He pulled back the door flap of the house so the sisters could enter. Ziibi accidently brushed against him as she passed into the narrow opening. Once again her senses keened. She felt sick. It was dark in the house. She was aware of a baby. A baby. As the sister¡¯s spoke in low words to Wiinizik, Ziibi¡¯s eyes were drawn to the baby happily grasping trinkets attached to his cradleboard. He was a handsome little boy, with eyes like his father¡¯s.


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    Ziibi did not go to Wiinzik until the sister¡¯s commanded her to. She did not want to look this woman in the face. When she did however, her jealously evaporated as did the evil that had held her. This was not the same girl she had met on the island. This girl, had lost all her joy and all her light. Her spirit was weary and wanted to travel beyond her body. Ziibi did not know if the sisters were aware of this, but she was. No one could save Wiinizik, but Wiinizik. She would have to choose to fight for life and fight hard. Did she have the strength to do so? Ziibi glanced back at Ajijaak. His eyes were on his woman and they were frightened.


    Mitigokaa bent over Wiinizik. She looked deep into her eyes, then pulled her eyelids up. After a careful examination she poked the girl were her kidneys were and Wiinzik winced. She asked, ¡°Have you had pain in your back?¡± Wiinzik nodded. In the next moment Ziibi saw Mitigokaa pull the bear claw pouch from her medicine bag. Only Midewiwin of high degree who were male were allowed to carry this medicine. This was bad. Inside the pouch was bear root. Ziibi looked away. She would not witness the application of this remedy. It would be bad for her spirit if she did. She would not stay with these women who had so little respect for the Midewiwin way. They were bad.


    The sisters set about preparing the medicine. They did not ask Ziibi to help. They told her to take the baby outside. Ziibi did this.


    Out in the sunlight she could see this precious child. He smiled at her, with a smile that was familiar, like she had seen it before. Then she remembered the dream she had of the small boy in the canoe with her. He had been this child. This child and her spirit were somehow bound together. Knowing this did not bring her joy. Dark spirits seemed to be gathering in the shadows, waiting to pounce.


    *


    Night had fallen and fires had been lit outside. Get smudges of smoke drifted through the village to deter insects from pestering the people. The forest was full of night sounds, and small eyes seemed to be watching from beyond the ring of firelight. The drums had begun to beat and the pipes to play. Ajijaak, dressed in his best breechcloth stood still with arms outspread. The stillness of his body called all in the crowd to quiet their chatter and focus only on him. Ziibi could feel him drawing power into himself, power that would flow through his dance.


    Beside her was Waabooz. He was sitting so close their bare arms touched. She did not know he was staring at her. In a harsh voice he whispered, ¡°So, you love another woman¡¯s man?¡±


    Midewiwin did not lie. It was true that she did, but she would not speak this truth. It was none of his business who she did or did not love.


    Waabooz said, ¡°I thought so.¡± There was something in his tone that should have alarmed Ziibi, but her entire being was present with Ajijaak, waiting for him to begin. She wished his family was here to see him dance, but so far no one from his family or her family¡¯s village had arrived.

 Chapter 44. Secrets of Darkness

    The drum began to pound like the beat of a heart. With a very slow motion, Ajijaak took his first step. His body moved as if it were liquid dancing in the wavering light. He drew his hands before his face and when they fluttered away, his face was covered in white ash. He looked far into the distance, his feet ever moving. He held up many fingers and made them undulate and march, speaking of an approaching people whose faces were as pale as the ashes. The dance continued as he circled around and around. His hands fluttered before his face again and he smeared one side with red paint. It dripped down upon his bare chest like drops of blood, and still his feet moved around and around in sacred step with the beating drum. He threw open his arms as if in welcome and then he crumbled as something unseen but deadly hit his body. With arm splayed he fell to the ground and lay very still. Then all at once he leapt to his feet, and on his face was the earth. The paint and dust were gone. He held out his arms and thrust his hands into the band of his breech cloth. Blue dye stained his fingers. He dappled them on his face like so many tears. He pulled out a packet of something and crushed it against his chest white ashes spewed into the air. His feet began the dance again. His arms and fingers traced shapes, designs of people, and animals and forests. With each symbol another cloud of ashes was tossed into the sky until he was totally obscured, When the ashes settled, Ajijaak was gone, disappeared like a spirit. In his place inscribed in the earth was a symbol of a people and a place destroyed. Ziibi shivered as she read it. This was no mere dance. It was a prophesy of a time yet to come, a time when a people would destroy life without reverence or gratitude. How could the Great Spirit let such a thing happen? The people cherished the earth, but someday, there would be those that would rape the earth like the bad men who raped a woman and left her to die. Ziibi was moved to tears. She felt utterly helpless to stop this thing, and yet it was coming one day. She felt it deep down inside where her spirit writhed. How awful it must have been for Ajijaak to receive this dance. Had it come from some dream?


    Around her the people murmured about what they had just seen. All were stunned and frightened, by the vision given them by the mute dancer. Still beside her, Waabooz said, ¡°He is crazier than a loon.¡± Waabooz shook his head in derision. His eyes traveled from Ajijaak to Wiinizik. Had she been one of his willing conquests? Ziibi didn¡¯t know. A slight breeze swirled around Waabooz. A sickly sweet aroma emanated from him. It was an odor Ziibi didn¡¯t recognize, but sensed was dark magic.


    An Elder called out for Ajijaak. Ziibi saw him emerge from the darkness. His face had been wiped off and though he was still dusty, he smiled. The smile of a man who had executed his vision to the best of his ability and was very pleased his dance had affected his audience. He seemed in that moment to shine with a kind of brilliance that Ziibi had never seen in another person. She was also aware at once that the dream Ajijaak had danced was not his own, but had come from some other source and perhaps, he did not even understand the dance he had been given to share. How could he have understood it with the way he was smiling, basking in the admiration of the people?


    A shadow moved away from the circle of light. Ajijaak, so caught up in the moment did not see the going of his woman and child. Unlike him, Waabooz did notice, and so did Ziibi. Waabooz¡¯s eyes were tracking Ajijaak¡¯s broken woman. All around Ziibi she felt the the dark begin to dance with tempting spirits. The drums and pipes began again. The crowd moved back. Ajijaak began to dance, but Ziibi did not watch him. All her senses were focused on Waabooz.


    She felt an evil spirit brush against her. The cold of it pimpled her flesh. Waabooz left the circle of light. It was dangerous to follow Waabooz into the dark, but she must. A ghost from the past had been raised and she could sense its nearness. With measured stealth Ziibi left the crowd and moved through the cedars. The air was pungent with their scent. She listened hard, and could hear the baby¡¯s soft jabber. Then, Waabooz spoke. Ziibi stopped where she was, they were closer than she thought.


    Waabooz asked Winizik, ¡°Why did you chose that cursed one, over me? Why did you not wait for me?¡±


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    There was a bitter laugh, the bitterest laugh Ziibi had ever heard, before Wiinizik replied. ¡°Wait for you? You never came back. You took my grandfather¡¯s knowledge, charmed him, took me as your mate and then left us both. I have not seen you in many, many seasons, and you question me?¡±


    ¡°Did you take that cursed trash so you could be his ruler? You always tried to rule me.¡±


    The firmness in Wiinizik¡¯s voice broke, ¡°I did not.¡±


    In a caressingly sweet voice, Waabooz asked, ¡°Is he as good as I? Can he make you forget? You want to forget. You want to feel what only I can give you. My Sweet, I will make you feel better. I will make you forget¡­everything.


    Ziibi wanted to cry out, to stop this moment, but it was not her moment to stop, it was Wiinizik¡¯s. Would she stop? On the ground beside the couple was the forgotten in baby in his cradleboard. His hands were outstretched to the moon and he laughed.


    *


    When the sound of the drums began again Ajijaak spun into another realm. He felt himself carried by a power greater than himself. He did not stop to question whether the power was good or evil, only that it carried him and he some how controlled it or at least he thought he did. He was the best dancer there and pride filled him. For one brief second he glanced outside of himself to the place where Wiinizik sat, only she was not there. Most likely she was tired or the baby was fussy. Wiinzik¡¯s absence was the first hint of something amiss, but he was too caught up in the dance to pay it heed. He would wish later that he had, but now, now was his moment of glory. The dances he had copied from the sacred book were finally being communicated, not in symbols or words but in movement, movements the spirits themselves had given to him. When the drum finally died down, and his steps halted. A wave of evil jerked his spirit and pulled him right out of himself. The person he most loved was in danger. Grave danger. He bowed to the crowd. Other dancers rose to perform. He did not know how to contain the panic that was steadily rising inside of him. Once he was beyond the ring of fire light he took off running at full tilt.


    Still on the trail, Ziibi heard Ajijaak coming. He had waited too long. She had not interfered in the consensual tryst of the Waabooz and Wiinizik. She could not save Wiinizik from herself, all she could do was close her eyes. She must stay near for the baby¡¯s sake.


    Ahead on the trail, Ajijaak saw the silhouette of a woman, his woman. He ran to her and grabbed her up into his arms. She was safe! The eyes that looked into his were not his woman¡¯s but Ziibi¡¯s. All at once he heard the moan of his woman¡¯s ecstasy. He looked beyond Ziibi and saw his woman in the embrace of another man. He dropped Ziibi. All reason left him, and he could never remember much about what came next. The sound he remembered, the sound he seldom made came croaking out of his throat. The couple, stopped. Wiinizik¡¯s face turned to him. Her eyes were lit with a strange light. Waabooz, the man holding his woman, turned as well. A malicious smile spread across his face, the moonlight revealed the white evenness of Waabooz¡¯s teeth. Wiinizik, cried, ¡°Ajijaak!¡±


    Ziibi saw Wiinizik pull away from Waabooz like he was poison.


    Ajijaak lunged for Waabooz. A rage like he had never known surged through him. He hit Waabooz as hard as he could in the chest. The next thing he knew a hot searing pain shot into his side, and he felt the heat of his own blood.


    Wiinizik screamed, ¡°No Waabooz!¡± She leapt to her feet and grabbed at the bloody knife. Ajijaak, picked himself up. As he started toward Waabooz, he saw Ziibi pick up his son, and run away with him. This instant of distraction cost him. Another slash crossed his chest. The blade of the knife glanced off one of his ribs. Wiinizik pushed herself between the two men, and in an instant Waabooz¡¯s knife slipped across her fragile throat. Blood, her blood gushed in the moonlight. All of life slowed to a strange rate of speed for Ajijaak. It was as if each moment existed singularly of its own accord. Like the coward he was, Waabooz turned and ran. Ajijaak did not follow. He sank to the ground beside Wiinizik and cradled her in his arms. Hurt though he was, bleeding though he was, he did not blame her, he blamed himself. He knew she was ill, he had felt a tug inside of him that trouble was coming but he had not heeded it. He had been too consumed by his own glory. His trembling fingers went to her wrist. The instant he touched her skin, he knew her spirit was gone. Though she had betrayed him, she had also sacrificed herself for him.


    People had heard his croak and had come running. He felt hands lifting him up. He heard people speaking. No one questioned him. It would have done no good, because he could not have answered them. He was vaguely aware of the dripping of his own blood. He could not think. He could not see. His life partner was gone forever. For the rest of his life he would have to endure the image of her locked in another man¡¯s arms. Numbness was washing over him. Was death coming for him too? Is this what it felt like? He hoped so. He sunk into a darkness, whose depth seemed bottomless.

 Chapter 45. Poison

    Light followed darkness. Ajijaak¡¯s mother came, his noko came. He saw Ziibi¡¯s father Mikinak. In an out of his feverish dreams Ziibi moved and breathed. He was vaguely aware of his son. An infection raged in his body. He had strange dreams and battled huge bears. The Snake King came to him, and Ziibi slashed the king to bits with her awl. Ajijaak felt like he was already walking the Path of Souls and he prayed he was. He needed to get to Wiinizik, he needed to find her to make sure she had made it safely to eternity, but he could not find her. Waabooz was often there taunting him, telling him intimate details about his woman, the woman they had shared. When he dreamed these dreams he often croaked his awful croak. It was an ugly sound and he was immediately ashamed of the noise he had made. Sometimes when it was very dark, and the house was silent, a man would come to him. The man had a familiar voice, a voice he had heard in a dream or a memory long since passed. He encouraged Ajijaak to fight for his life, to win. Ajijaak¡¯s son needed his father, the way he had needed a father. It was hard for Ajijaak¡¯s feverish mind to latch onto this responsibility. He was consumed with worry over Wiinizik. Had she crossed safely into the Land of Souls? Had she been permitted to live in eternal peace? Female voices, the voices of Wiinizik¡¯s aunt and cousins spoke of her as if she were some filthy creature. His heart would not believe that she had stopped loving him. He needed to find her or find a way to secure eternity for her. Until these last months she had brought him joy and love like he had never known in this life and he wanted to do the same for her in the next, but how? How?


    *


    Ziibi sat beside Ajijaak. Her hand rested on his feverish brow. The blade of Waabooz knife had been soaked in snake venom. Waabooz had not been found. Disgraced his parents and siblings left the village. Because of her unfaithfulness, Wiinzik¡¯s family would not bury her in the family grave. She had acted without honor. She had broken her partnership with Ajijaak. She was taken to a place unknown. Ziibi fretted over the girl. She knew how persuasive Waabooz could be. Wiinzik, was a lonely girl, trapped on an island. Ziibi could still remember Wiinzik¡¯s eager eyes, and her hunger for conversation. She also remember how proudly she had spoken of her man and her obvious love for Ajijaak had radiated in her eyes. The strange poison that sometime effected some women after birth had taken hold in Wiinzik. Wabooz, snake that he was had taken advantage of her. It grieved Ziibi. She should have stopped them, cried out, broken Waabooz¡¯s spell. Would all be different now if she had? In her desperation would Wiinzik have listened to her? Ziibi would never know. The past once done could not be undone. All she could do now was do her best to keep Ajijaak in this life to raise his child.


    The yet to be named baby slept on the pallet near by. His face was not at peace. Someone was missing from his life. No longer did he know the safety and comfort of his mother¡¯s arms and milk. Like was incredibly cruel. One selfish, jealous, evil man had taken what was not his and broken this family. The thought of Waabooz filled her mouth with bitterness. Many times he had almost caught her up in his charms, but always her heart had whispered or shouted a single word, no.


    Ajijaak croaked in his sleep. He was passing through another nightmare. His breathing was fast and his legs twitched as if he were running. Beneath Ziibi¡¯s hand his forehead was so hot. The fever would not leave him. The sisters had dozed him some new concoction on him. Ziibi knew it would not work. Their power was thwarted in this case because they were blood relatives of the one who had inflicted the wounds.


    Ziibi glanced out the open door flap. The sky was the fire red of late evening. A cool breeze wrapped around her exhausted body.. Mitigomin told her, ¡°Go, take a walk. You need a rest from this vigil.


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    Ziibi removed her hand from Ajijaak¡¯s forehead. She did not want to leave him, but she must. To take care of him, she must take care of herself. She slipped outside. Perplexed and distracted she wandered down the trail. As she passed an open space she saw the heads of strange flowers bending in the wind. The wind caught the voice of the flowers that whispered to her. They spoke to her softly of Ajijaak as she neared them. ¡°Waabooz sheathed his knife in venom,¡± they said. ¡°We can pull the venom out of Ajijaak¡¯s wounds. To do this, we must die for Ajijaak, but we are willing. He is a good man and we want his dance and the echo of his drums to continue.¡± As gently as she could, Ziibi pulled up the flowers, roots and all and put them in her medicine bag. They did not cry out or complain. They surrendered to their destiny. When all the flowers were in her bag, they seemed to sigh, then pass into the land of souls. They did not speak to her again. She would meet them one day as she expected to meet all creatures and plants who gave their lives for the good of other living beings. From her medicine bag she took an offering of tobacco and sprinkled it where the flowers had lived.


    She did not go back to house where Ajijaak lay feverish. She went to his drum house. A drum vibrated when she entered the house. It was the medicine drum that he had made. She sensed the power of the instrument. If any voice could draw him back to the living then this one could.


    *


    The next evening, after the sun had slipped behind the trees. Ziibi tested the flowers. They had dried at an amazing speed in their eagerness to heal Ajijaak. She took them inside to the fire. The sisters were feeding the baby. From time to time the child would glance at his still father. He did not much care for the rice water teat the sisters had made from a moose bladder, but he still nursed it. Once again he was looking for his mother, he did not know what had become of her.


    Silently Ziibi prayed as she took the flowers to the fire and pulled the stone pestle and bowl from her medicine bag. The sisters did not question her as she prepared her medicine. They let her be. Grinding the withered flowers into a fine powder she added a bit of ash to the concoction as a binder. The medicine would need the power of fire to work its healing. When she was done, she diluted a small amount with fermented blueberry juice. This she would ladle into Ajijaak¡¯s mouth.


    The sisters continued to watch her as she removed the bandages they had applied earlier. The pus was still oozing from the wounds, and they were swollen and ugly. With gentle fingers, Ziibi dabbed on the medicine she had made. From time to time Ajijaak winced in pain or groaned. When the paste was over every wound, she did not replace the bandages.This medicine needed air to work. She took a wooden spoon and slowly fed Ajijaak the medicine. When she finished she told the sisters, ¡°Please take the baby to his great uncle¡¯s house.¡±


    The sisters did not question her. They did as they were told. Ziibi so caught up in her quest for Ajijaak¡¯s life did not recognize the honor or the respect they were showing her by their obedience. When they were gone, Ziibi went to the drum house and took the medicine drum that had called to her. She looked at the various mallets and sticks Ajijaak had fashioned to play his drums. Which mallet went with this drum. There was a fat one whose tip was covered with beaver suede. This suede had most likely softened by Wiinizik¡¯s teeth. It was the right one.


    Ziibi went back to the house. She did not know how to play the drum, but the drum did not need her knowledge. It possessed its own power and only needed to be given its own voice to work its magic. And so she began to beat a slow and steady rhythm and then the sound of the drum became that of beating wings. Huge wings like the wings of many cranes flying across the night sky. All the people in the village heard and were quieted by the sound. Power, good power was being drawn into the village. Could this power cleanse the village of the blood and shame that had been spilled upon it?


    Ziibi played and played until her thoughts swam in her head, until the fire burned low and put itself out, and still the wings beat. The night grew very dark and sleepiness began to press down upon her. She fought it as long as she could and then she slipped into the land of dreams.

 Chapter 46. The Snake King

    In front of Ziibi was a vast sea and on its bank stood Ajijaak. He was croaking out the only sound he possessed. She knew he was crying out for Wiinizik. His croaks echoed across the water. A slight ripple appeared on its surface. Fear leapt inside of Ziibi. She started to run to Ajijaak, but Mikwam jumped into her path. It had been so long since she had last seen her guardian. He would help her. She dropped to her knees and wrapped her arms around him. She told him, ¡°Please, help me.¡±


    Mikwam shook his ruff. His eyes gazed out toward the water. Following her guardian¡¯s gaze, Ziibi realized where she was. She was on the Path of Souls. She let go of Mikwam and stood. The instant she did she saw the Snake King rise from the water and wrap his long slender body around Ajijaak. Ajijaak fought against him.


    The Snake King hissed, ¡°Be still man, I have what you seek. Your woman is with me now. Come, and I will take you to her.¡±


    Ziibi shouted, ¡°Do not listen to him.¡± But Ajijaak did listen. Ziibi released Mikwam and they ran to the sea. As she ran she pulled her tomahawk from its sheath. Ajijaak was slipping beneath the water. She lunged into the water and thrust her tomahawk deep into the snake¡¯s side. The creature shot up out of the water and his eyes held her. Such beautiful eyes. They seemed to reach down deep inside of her and obliterate her clear thought. From the shore Mikwam growled. His presence reminded her of her duty. With all her strength she lifted her tomahawk and hit the snake king between the eyes. Though she did not crack his skull, she did hurt him. The snake king shouted at her, ¡°So you think you can kill me? I heard your threat long ago and I waited. My friend Waabooz tried to bring you to me, but he was too weak. Now I have you, and you will be my woman.¡±


    Instantly the snakes body was wrapped around her and pulled her down. She heard the snarls of Mikwam. Water filled her lungs. She thrust her hand into her medicine bag and pulled out a sharp bone awl. She could feel the beat of the snake¡¯s cold heart. Down, down they plunged deeper into the water. Ziibi managed to wriggle her right hand with the awl free. She punctured the Snake King¡¯s tough scaled skin and sank the awl deep into his heart.


    The Snake King shrieked and released her. In the murky water she saw the body of Ajijaak. He was swimming down. She followed after him and grabbed hold of his braid. With a strength greater than her own, she pulled him to the surface of the water. Gasping for air, she drug him to shallow water and with Mikwam¡¯s help, she pulled him onto the rocky shore. She did not know if he was alive or dead. She laid her head on her chest and heard, nothing. She flipped him over and pushed on his back to clear his lungs of water. Though he spit some out he did not breath. As the sisters had taught her, she turned him carefully over and opened his mouth. She breathed her life into him, praying the Great Spirit would carry her life to his heart. He would not respond. With tears streaming from her eyes she rocked back on her heels and looked at the lifeless Ajijaak. Suddenly he sat up. Stupified by his sudden recovery Ziibi said, ¡°Come Ajijaak, we must leave this place.¡±


    In a voice, a human voice and not a croak, Ajijaak told her, ¡°I am beyond the realm of your life now.¡± His eyes held a light she like she had never seen before. A light many times greater than the light his eyes held when he danced. He said, ¡°I must go now. Wiinizik will not make it to the Land of Souls alone. I must help her.¡±


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    ¡°No, Ajijaak.¡±


    He stepped away from her. It was then that she saw his body, lifeless on the ground. His soul was not longer joined to his flesh.


    Desperate she begged, ¡°Please do not go, Ajijaak, your son needs you.¡± He did not respond but continued along the westward path that ran beside the sea. She ran after him and caught up with him. She pleaded, ¡°Please Ajijaak. Do not go. I can be your woman, I will help you care for your child.¡±


    Ajijaak stopped. He turned and smiled at her. With his hands he cupped her face. She felt the cold wetness of his lips brush against her forehead. Softly he said, ¡°You have done much for me over your life. You have loved me and believed in me as if I were your own flesh. I thank you, but I must go, and you must let me go.¡±


    ¡°What about your son?¡±


    This question, he did not answer. He let go of her face. ¡°I have a long journey. Good bye my friend.¡± She tried to latch onto him, but he was instantly beyond her grasp. He told her, ¡°The soul moves faster than the body Ziibi,¡± and vanished into the trees.


    Grief stricken Ziibi sank to the ground and wailed. How could he leave? They could have made a life, she could have raised his son and given him other children. Yet there he went chasing after a woman who had betrayed him in life. She had fought the Snake King for him and killed the creature, and yet Ajijaak still wanted Wiinizik. He was a fool. And she was a fool for loving him.


    Ziibi awoke. Her face was smashed against the medicine drum. It was wet with her tears. She looked to the place where Ajijaak lay and went to him. She laid her head on his chest. Within, there was no beat. She looked from Ajijaak¡¯s mother Wabisi to his noko. Ajijaak¡¯s noko face was resigned. Ajijaak¡¯s mother let out a terrible wail. The sound of it echoed inside the small house and penetrated the birch bark walls. Others were coming. Ziibi heard their footsteps. She did not want to be caught in the extravagance of their grief. Her own heart felt cold and small. She needed to get away, go somewhere, anywhere but here. She pushed through the door flap, just as others began to enter. Her feet carried her down the path and to the shore. In the distance she could see the island where Ajijaak once lived, was once happy. Silent tears streamed from her eyes. A sob was lodged in her throat that she could not set free. It had been one thing to release Ajijaak to life beyond her village, another entirely to let him travel to the Land of Souls.


    A gnarled hand wrapped around her wrist. Startled she turned. It was Ajijaak¡¯s noko.


    Ziibi said, ¡°The flowers told me they could save him. Why did they lie to me?¡±


    Ajijaak¡¯s noko said, ¡°The flowers did not lie, they believed in their own power. Did you not believe you had the power to heal him?¡±


    Ziibi nodded.


    ¡°You did all you could do, and so did the flowers.¡±


    ¡°It was not enough.¡±


    ¡°Perhaps, it was.¡±


    Ziibi stared at the old woman. Her sightless eyes gazed at nothing. There were not any tears in her eyes. She tugged on Ziibi¡¯s wrist. ¡°Come, we will tell Wabisi you are going to live with us now.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°You heard me. I will speak to your father.¡±


    Slowly, they made their way back to Ajijaak¡¯s home.

 Chapter 47. The Land of Souls

    Ajijaak continued along the westward trail and followed it into the forest. Many paths from all the different villages converged and criss-crossed. All journeyed to the Land of Souls, a place where death and pain did not exist. Steadily Ajijaak walked, searching for signs of Wiinizik¡¯s footprints. From time to time he would call out her name, and just hearing his own voice brought a sense of awe to him. To no longer be silent was a gift. When he found Wiinzik and they entered the Land of Souls, they would have all eternity to speak to one another. Late in the day he passed the trail that came from the land of the Sioux. In the land of Souls he would live among his enemies, only they would no longer be enemies, for war did not exist in the land of Souls.


    Excitement fought with his apprehension. He felt sure of his journey.He would find Wiinizik and he would help her cross over. Deep down, he had a knowing that he would. When night fell, he stopped and by a stream. He was hungry and thirsty. He drank long from the stream but it did not ease his hunger. He began to worry about Wiinizik. Where was she? Was she hungry? Had her uncle¡¯s family supplied her with enough food for her journey? If they did not would she perish on the path. He looked down at the water. His reflection was obscured by the ripples. He stood, studied the landscape and committed to memory. As he ran through the dark forest, he chanted and prayed. The dust of the path made small puffs as his feet hurried over its surface. The path became more and more narrow. Surely he had not been headed down a dead end. Yes, in his haste he had. The trail stopped. He had to turn back.


    Once he was back at the stream he surrendered himself to sleep. Perhaps he would have a dream that would help him find Wiinizik. When he awoke the next morning, a bowl of food was placed beside him. In life, his mother had prepared this and given it to him. He ate swiftly. He had lost time last night. Wiinzik was somewhere ahead of him and he must hurry. He placed his bowl down and found a bag of dried berries and meat. His noko had fixed this for him. There was also a flask of water. He knew this was a gift from Ziibi. He pushed the thought of her away from him. He must not think of her or what she had said about the child he had abandoned. His only priority was Wiinizik.


    The day passed just as the first, with him following trails. He did not meet any more dead ends. Late in the day the trees thinned out and then fell away all together. A great prairie stretched before him. A single wide trail now wound its way through the grass. He was going the right way. He looked down at the dust of the trail and he saw the small footprints of his beloved. She could not be far ahead. Ajijaak broke into a run. In the distance a blur of red appeared. It was the great red berry. He saw the form of a woman beside it. She was reaching out her hand. He cried out, ¡°Wiinizik!¡±


    She turned, but she did not drop her hand.


    He shouted, ¡°Do not eat of that!¡± No one knew what became of the souls that tasted the great berry. Ajijaak reached her and knocked her hand down. He took her into his arms and felt her arms go around him. Her tears wet his neck. She said, ¡°I have been so afraid. I am so hungry.¡± Ajijaak handed her his pouch of berries and dried meat, then scooped her up into his arms. How good it was to hold her. She plunged her hand into the bag.


    She was indeed hungry. She ate almost all of what it contained. Ajijaak was not worried. His mother and his noko would provide for him. When she had finished eating she asked him to put her down, which he did. She wanted to talk to him. He told her, ¡°There is no need. That was part of our earth life, now we are headed to our soul life. The past is behind up.¡±


    She slipped her hand into his and did not try to say more.


    It was dusk when they reached the great river that surrounded the Land of Souls. A long, thick, log spanned the river from the Path of Souls to the Land of Souls. It looked like a log, but Ajijaak knew it was really a serpent, at least that is what he had copied in the Sacred Record for Misko-amik. The log was slippery. If they slipped into the water they would be transformed into fishes or frogs for all eternity. They must not fall. Along the shore of the river were busted cradle boards. It was very difficult for babies and children to cross the rolling log. How many of the fish had once been somebody¡¯s child. Briefly the image of his own son came to mind. Who would teach him the skills necessary to survive this passage? Who? Who would raise his son?


    The sun was sinking. Wiinizik asked, ¡°Can we make it, or should we wait until morning?¡±


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    ¡°I think we can make it.¡± He was anxious to get safely into the Land of Souls. He longed for the peace the place offered. He helped Wiinzik jump onto what looked like the head of a snake. The log began to roll like the body of a snake in the placid water. Wiinizik cried out. Ajijaak steadied her. He told her to hold onto him and match his steps. She clung to his waist. The log was slippery and Ajijaak thought he saw the pattern of scales upon it. He remembered the Snake King and Ziibi¡¯s valor. When her time came, she would not have any trouble crossing this log. Her last words to him echoed in his mind until he pushed them away. He was almost there. Peace was close at hand.


    When they reached the Land of Souls they were awed by what they saw. It was a vast village filled with tents and houses as far as his eyes could see. In a huge field children played and men ran races. Ajijaak saw Waabooz. Why was he here? Had his skill and his strength had secured him a place in eternity? The revenge that would have choked Ajijaak in life, did not spring up within him here. Waabooz was no longer his enemy. Still, he did not want Wiinizik to see him. He led her to the village. The sound of drums, bells, rattles and pipes filled the air. The clothes that the people wore were not skins, because there was not any death here. All their clothes were made of substance beautiful and shimmering such as Ajijaak had never seen. People he did not know moved about him. Some were eating what looked like fungus. A man emerged from the crowd. It was Misko-amik. Wiinizik ran into her grandfather¡¯s outstretched arms. He held he tight and long. When he let go of her, he turned to Ajijaak. He did not speak. His face registered displeasure. Wiinizik did not notice. She asked, ¡°Can you take me to my noko?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡± He began to lead her away.


    Ajijaak said, ¡°Wait, for me.¡±


    With eyes filled with anger and sorrow, Misko-amik asked, ¡°Why are you here?¡±


    ¡°Because my soul has brought me here.¡±


    ¡°Has it? Or have you once again been deceived into abandoning your destiny for the love of a woman?¡±


    His words cut through Ajijaak. This could not be so.


    ¡°Have you passed on the knowledge I gave you?¡±


    ¡°Only a little.¡±


    ¡°Then the sacred record is lost forever as well as the secret of my drums.¡± Misko-amik shook his head. He did not speak again, but led his granddaughter into the crowd. Ajijaak tried to follow but he they melted into the crowd.


    A woman he did not know pulled him to the far edges of the throng and then out of it all together. She told him, ¡°I am Migi, the sister of your noko.¡±


    ¡°Is my grandfather here?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Can I meet him?¡±


    ¡°In time, now, come with me. We have much to do before it is too late.¡±


    ¡°Too late for what?¡±


    She grabbed hold of him. She was very strong. ¡°I said come. Hold your tongue that now flaps. It flaps too much.¡±


    Migi more or less drug him all the way to a small hut. Inside was a pallet of soft filmy substance like spider webs. She told him to lay down.


    He remained where he was and asked, ¡°Where is Wiinizik?¡±


    ¡°You ask too many questions. You do not obey. It is no wonder the Great Spirit saw fit to still your tongue. It would have brought you to more grief in life than you had.¡± She pushed him and he fell onto the pallet. The next thing she did was straddle him and pour something bitter down his throat.The medicine made him feel very strange. Emotions he had pushed away from him rose up. He heard again the voice of that strange man telling him to remain with his son. Where was his son? His son did not even have a name yet. He had not become a person, he was no more than a heap of potential until he had a name. The image of the busted up cradleboards along the river came to his mind.


    Migi said, ¡°Return to your son, hurry before the light fades.¡± She slipped something into his hand. It was cold and round.


    He tried to ask about Wiinzik, but the words would not come, his throat was frozen again. He had lost the ability to speak. Migi shouted, ¡°Go, NOW!¡±


    He ran from the hut frantic to find Wiinizik. He entered a great dancing crowd. They danced him to the edge of the river where the log was, only now the log was not a log, but a huge serpent. Its great head darted toward him. Barely, he escaped being struck. If this snake drug him into the river, he would never see Wiinzik again. He would never see his son either. If Ziibi were here, she would help him. Ziibi was not here. Only he could fight this snake. The gigantic creature¡¯s triangular head shot straight at. Ajijaak. Ajijaak leapt onto the flat head of the snake. His fingers dug into the eye sockets of the snake and held on. The snake tossed his head back and sent Ajijaak flying. Below was the water, below was eternal separation from Wiinizik. He twisted his body and managed to get his feet to land on the back of the snake¡¯s body. The snake plunged again. All around him the water boiled. Broken cradle boards shot into the sky. Another section of the snake¡¯s body rose into the air, again Ajijaak leapt. As the snake ducked and dived Ajijaak leapt from section to section until he reached the tail. The tail flung him onto dry land. He was on the other side, but he was not safe. Much lay ahead of him and he had no idea how he was to pass from the path of Souls back to the Path of Life. If he failed he would disappear and that was worse than being a fish or a frog for all eternity.

 Chapter 48. The Island

    Since she was not family, Ziibi was not allowed to help with the preparation of Ajijaak¡¯s body. Instead she was left to attend his unnamed child. She had taken him to Ajijaak¡¯s corn patch. The long stalks caught the wind and whispered of a bountiful harvest. Others would pick this corn, others would eat it, not Ajijaak. Her heart ached and she felt so powerless. For many seasons she had been learning the arts of healing power and yet she had failed Ajijaak. The baby squirmed in her arms. One chubby fist grabbed her hair. He tugged hard. She looked down into his dimpled face. His eyes, were Ajijaak¡¯s eyes. Would this little boy fair any better than his father or grandfather, or was he too destined for an early grave? Ziibi did not know. What she did know was that she would do all in her power to make sure this baby became a man.


    The sisters came to the corn patch. They squatted down beside her for along while before Mitigokin asked, ¡°So you are returning to your village?¡±


    ¡°Yes.¡±


    ¡°Why?¡±


    Ziibi dropped her eyes to the face of the baby. With him securely in her vision she was able to say, ¡°My place is with Ajijaak¡¯s family. Wabisi will need my help with the baby and support in her grief. I have learned much in my time with you, but my time with you has come to an end, and my life is taking a new path.¡±


    Mitigokin said, ¡°Or an old one. You have to follow your own destiny. We cannot do that for you. Still, we grieve that you have tied yourself to a dead man. You have great power Ziibi, and there is still so much for you to learn.¡±


    ¡°I know.¡± There were also things she did not want to learn, like how to use the bear claw medicine and how to break sacred rules and defy the boundaries of other Midewiwin. She also did not want to be tied to the family of the man who murdered her best loved.


    Mitigomin spoke as if reading Ziibi¡¯s mind, ¡°You think you are so wise, girl. You have much to learn about the compromises that healing will call you to.¡±


    Ziibi looked at the sister and said, ¡°Perhaps that is the way of your family, but it is not the way of mine.¡± With Ajijaak¡¯s son pressed close in her arms, she turned away from the sisters. Her conversation with them was over.


    Each sister grunted, the grunt of contempt, and then Ziibi heard them walk away. Ajijaak¡¯s noko came to the corn patch. She said, ¡°You can go in now my love.¡± She took the baby from Ziibi.


    In her chest Ziibi felt her heart begin to beat like an erratic drum. She handed the baby over to his great grandmother. Suddenly she was very afraid. With slow reluctant steps she made her way from the corn patch to the door flap. Moving from the bright light of day into the dimly lit house made her eyes sting. The shaft of light from the open door flap slashed across Ajijaak¡¯s still body. He was laid out in his best dancing clothes. One of his drums was beside him, as was a food pouch. His hair was combed into tight black braids. The wounds across his chest were not as red and swollen as they had been. For a brief instant she thought she saw him take in a breath of air. She dropped the door flap and was plunged into darkness. The keening wail of Wabisi filled the small enclosure. Ziibi groped her way to Ajijaak¡¯s body and knelt down beside him. She laid her ear against his lips and nostrils. There was no breath. Only wishful thinking on her part. She sat up and took his fine long fingered hand in hers. Through dance, signs, and his drums he had communicated much with his hands. In the land of Souls he would play, and dance, if he were not dancing there already. Ajijaak was swift. He would arrive quickly. The only thing that would slow him down was Wiinizik. Would he find her or would he wander through eternity looking for her?


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    *


    Ajijaak was buried on the island beside the body of his wife and her grandfather. Wabisi said it was what her son would have wanted. It was true. Ziibi knew this. She was thankful that Wabisi had not held onto a grudge and denied her son the resting place he would most desire, but then Wabisi had never been a vengeful woman. After the burial ceremony was completed, Mikinak, Ziibi, Zhede, Ajijaak¡¯s noko, Wabisi and the baby got into their canoes and headed home.


    At dusk they camped beside the Great Sea. As they ate their meal in silence, Wabisi nudged her man. Zhede cleared his throat and asked Ziibi¡¯s father, ¡°Mikinak, my woman and I would like for you to name Ajijaak¡¯s son.¡±


    This was an honor. Ziibi watched her father¡¯s face closely. She could see a faint light dance deep within them. Softly he said, ¡°I will. As soon as I know his name, I will give it to him.¡± There was no way of knowing how long it would take before a name did come. Mikinak did not know that Wiinizik¡¯s uncle, Makade-amik had dreamed a name for this child, because he had not shared it.


    ¡°Thank you,¡± Zhede said. He looked at his weary woman and added, ¡°I think we will sleep now. Tomorrow it will be good to be back in our own village.¡±


    Mikinak nodded his agreement.


    The baby, already slept. Though Wabisi wanted to keep the child with her, Ziibi said, ¡°Please, let me watch over him and feed him tonight. You are so very tired. I will tend to him well.¡±


    Wabisi cupped Ziibi¡¯s face in her hands just as Ajijaak had in her dream. ¡°Thank you. I am soul weary.¡±


    The men cut spruce bows to throw their skins over for pallets. The spicy smell of spruce the air. Overhead the stars were bright pricks of white light. The half moon would rise in time. The night creatures were moving about in the darkness, going about their nightly business. Ziibi lay down on the pallet her father had made for her and the baby. The child slept in the crook of her arm. In a sealed container she had his rice milk and rice gruel. His skin was so very soft. In sleep he did not look so much like Ajijaak, but when he was awake, his eyes held his father¡¯s spirit and seemed to call out an over all likeness to Ajijaak.


    Ziibi rolled on her side to face the baby. Her movement cause the spruce beneath her to send out fresh fragrance. It wrapped around her comforting her tired mind and body. Just as she was drifting off to sleep, she saw a female wolf pass by. The wolf did not turn and look at the sleeping humans. Her eyes were focused ahead. Immediately alert, Ziibi watched. The wolf was tracking something, something she would most likely take to her pups. She disappeared into the forest. Close behind her was a male wolf, the wolf looked so much like Mikwam that Ziibi almost called out to him, but caught herself in time. How magnificent was this living creature. The moon was just rising casting silver light upon the him. He turned to Ziibi. Their eyes met. In silence he transferred some of his strength to her and his blessing. The wolf cocked his head and then turned his attention back to the trail his mate followed. Ziibi watched him until he too was out of sight. She closed her eyes and drifted gently into the land of dreams.

 Chapter 49. The Curse

    A group of Sioux and Ojibeway passed by him. They had died in battle and were now on their way to the Land of Souls. Some were poorly dressed and poorly provided for, others carried the finest of bows and knives and were dressed well. Some had no food, and others carried bags such as Ajijaak did. The food in Ajijaak¡¯s pouch was running out. His mother or his noko must fill it soon or he would starve.


    At midday he reached the great red berry. A heaviness had settled into his body. His arms and legs had become stiff and cold. When he passed the berry it transformed itself into a hideous creature, but Ajijaak did not look at it. Too much curiosity on this path. could more than kill him it could destroy his soul. He journeyed on ward to the forest. He looked from one path to the next. His mind felt so thick he could not remember which trail was his own. He had been in such a hurry to get to Wiinizik he had not paid proper attention. He looked for traces of his own footprints. The footprints of the warriors had obliterated all traces of other footprints. What now? How would he get home?


    A female wolf crossed in front of him. She headed down one of the paths. Was she a guide or some sort of temptress? She turned and looked back at him. Her eyes were good, she was a guide. He followed her.


    The sun set and darkness fell. Still, the she wolf lead him. He was tired and thirsty. All his food was gone. His lungs ached because of her pace, but she would not slow down. He felt like he was about to drop. Surely he could find his way back to the living alone. He slowed his pace. The wolf growled deep in her throat. Abruptly he picked up his pace. She was not ready for him to leave her. They came to the edge of a great prairie that Ajijaak did not remember seeing when he first traveled on the path of Souls. From the grass leapt a great bear. The wolf jumped out of its way. The bear came after Ajijaak.


    It had been a trick. He turned to run on his exhausted legs and tripped. The bear was immediately upon him. He felt its huge arms wrap around him. The force of it claws bit into his flesh and it thrust him upward. He seemed to be flying, up and up he went. A head was a great and blinding light. He smelled smoke and earth. He felt the bear toss him upon his shoulder. His mighty claws held him fast. The bear did not walk on all fours, but on his hind legs. Ajijaak tried to see, but all was too bright. He could smell water. He heard the cry of a crane, and the flap of its wings. Where was he, and were was this bear taking him. Soon he was tossed to the ground in what must be a dim cave. He could not see anything but blackness. Still he could hear. A fire crackled near him. The bear thrust Ajijaak¡¯s head back and poured a scalding liquid down his throat. Next, he ripped Ajijaak¡¯s fine clothes off of him. A hot stone was place on his chest. It burned into his skin. He tried to get out from beneath it but he was too weak. Was this what happened at the end of life. Was he about to exist now more. He felt himself slipping. He tried hard to fight against this feeling but it enveloped him and pulled him into a great nothingness.


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    *


    A mist clung to him. His eyes focused. He was in a familiar place. He was in his old home on the island, the place where life had given him much happiness. Had he become a wandering spirit? His throat ached. His mouth too was sore. He moved his tongue. It moved as it had never moved before. Always it had been tightly attached to the base of his mouth, and now it moved freely. This was very odd. It hurt when he moved it, but move it he did. He traced the outline of his teeth with his tongue. This was very strange. With apprehension he forced air through his vocal cords. Instead of the usual croak, a soft whisper came out of him. It was not a word, but it also was not an ugly sound.


    Confused and dazed he pulled himself in a sitting position. He rubbed his hand across the dirt floor. It left a mark. Was he alive? He crawled out of the house and down the path. The island was surrounded in mist and he could only see a few feet in front of him. He found two graves. On one was a pouch with his family¡¯s totem on the other was the totem of the beaver. The realization of who these graves belonged to exploded inside of him. He was still dead.


    A shadowy form appeared in the mist. It stopped when it saw Ajijaak. Was this the bear that had brought him here? He waited.


    In a voice he had heard before, a man¡¯s voice, said, ¡°You must go back to the house. You are not strong enough to wander around.¡± The man came toward him. There was something very familiar about him.


    When he reached him, a question passed through Ajijaak¡¯s lips, ¡°Who?¡±


    The man was stunned. Tears filled his eyes. ¡°The curse has been broken. I did not think I could reverse it.¡±


    The world began to tilt and sway. Ajijaak suddenly felt very dizzy. The man caught him in his arms. The sensation that went through Ajijaak was startling. He knew who this man was, this man was his father. He murmured, ¡°Baswewe.¡± This was the name of his father.


    The man shook his head. ¡°No, that man is dead. I am the Ghost of the Forest. I provide for those who cannot provide for themselves.¡± He scooped Ajijaak up into his arms and carried him back to the house.

 Chapter 50. The Naming

    Finally the harvesting was all done. The rice had been parched. Ziibi helped her mother, Wabisi, Miinan and the nokos scoop the rice into bags woven of cedar and basswood. Ziibi preferred rice from basswood bags because she did not like the slight tang the cedar bags left on the rice. When all the rice was bagged up there was much to rejoice over. Barring a destructive winter storm, surviving another winter looked possible.


    That night they built a fire. They sang and told stories. Miinan¡¯s baby freed from her cradle board toddled around. She was very fascinated with Ajijaak¡¯s baby. He held out her hands to her. A shadow passed in Ziibi¡¯s mind. A vision wavered in her mind. Ajijaak¡¯s son would love Miinan¡¯s daughter. It was a long time from now, but it must not be so. Ziibi tried to dislodge the premonition but it would not go. Was it for good or bad? At least it meant these two children would grow old enough to test their hearts. For now Ziibi decided, it was for good.


    When there was a lull in the music, Mikinak said, ¡°I have dream a dream of Ajijaak¡¯s son. In four days I will present his name.¡±


    ¡°Oh, thank you!¡± Cried Wabisi.


    ¡°Thank the Great Spirit for the dream he has given me.¡± By her father¡¯s smile, Ziibi knew it had been a good dream. Joy filled her. Perhaps the darkness, Ajijaak had been forced to grow up in would not darken the path of his son.


    Four days later, Wabisi had cleaned prepared her house for the naming ceremony. The house was fragrant with fresh cedar boughs.A feast had been prepared, which Ziibi had not been allowed to help with. Instead she had been given charge of the baby.


    How handsome he was, all clean and sweet resting in his cradle. The most important event of his life was about to take place. The giving of a name was more than just a title, it would link him to his tribe, it would bind him to the spirits of his ancestors, it would chart the course of his life. Ziibi could only guess what this baby¡¯s name would be. She touched the softness of his cheek and said, ¡°Little One before this night is through, you will no longer be baby, but a person with a name and a destiny.¡±


    The baby smiled up at her as if he understood.


    At sunset the people of the village began to arrive. Wabisi¡¯s brothers and sisters came. Maang arrived with Miinan but his eyes did not trouble Ziibi. This evening was too sacred for mischief.


    When all had gathered her father entered. How strong and handsome he looked. His dark skin glistened in the wavering firelight. He squatted down beside the baby. Zhede presented him with a pipe he had made in honor of this occasion. Her father smiled and thanked him. They all settle down for the story of the dream quest that lead to the dreaming of the name. This part took a long time, but Mikinak was not only an excellent Midewiwin, he was also a skilled story teller.


    ¡°I journeyed to the far ends of the sea. I met the old turtle who rests at the center of all creation. Upon his back grew many new living beings. Plants, animals and birds. I told him of my journey. He shook his back and all life upon it was cast into the sea. Cranes appeared and swooped down scooping up the drowning creatures. They carried them all to where, I do not know. I heard the ugly voice rise from the water and knew it was the Snake King. His face was badly mutilated and he had a long scar upon his breast. He hissed at me, ¡°Your daughter has done this to me and you will pay.¡±


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    The turtle flapped down his flipper and sent a roiling wave at the Snake King. The wave grew larger and larger until it overwhelmed him¡­¡±


    Her father¡¯s voice faded in Ziibi¡¯s ears. She saw again the Snake King. She remembered how it had felt to thrust her awl into it. She remembered what it felt like to rescue Ajijaak only to lose him. Tears came to her eyes. She had lost the thread of her father¡¯s story. He would only tell it once, and she had allowed herself to be distracted. She forced herself to pay attention, but it was too late. Her father had finished his story, and was saying, ¡°It was a good dream.¡± He held up a small drum and attached it to the cradle board. It was the drum Ajijaak had made for his son. The one Ziibi had carried with her since Wiinizik had given it to her. She had told her father the story of it, and he had believed it was a fitting gift for the baby.


    Her father turned to Wabisi and Zhede. ¡°This is the dream for your grandson. Tell it to him often, so he always carries its power and good medicine with him.¡±


    Wabisi and Zhede nodded.


    Her father rocked back on his heels. ¡°There was an island in the clouds. Upon it were the graves of a boy¡¯s parents. A bear lived on the island and guarded it. One day he went out hunting and he caught him a man. The man was tired and sick. He was not a real man but man caught between life and death. He was trying to find his way back to life but all roads to life had been blocked. He was stuck. The bear fed him fire and his belly grew warm. Day after day the bear fed him fire. The fire began to revive him, but it did not bring him life or death, it only left him waiting. For what was he waiting? He did not know. The whooping cranes flew over one evening. A group of three rested on the water near the island. One called out to him. He went to the shore and the crane came to him and spoke to him of a woman who had cured him. The crane said, ¡®If you find this woman she will cure you too.¡¯ The man asked, ¡°Where can I find her?¡¯ The crane flew away without answering, but a red beaver swam to the shore of clouds. The beaver said, ¡®Follow me.¡± The man did not wait, he dove into the clouds. The air was icy cold. He was plummeting fast. It was so cold he could feel his limbs freezing. The earth was coming toward him fast. Would he be shattered on the rocks below? Fearfully he spread his arms. Gray feathers shot out of them and he discovered he could fly. He was a crane too now. He had always been a crane but he had never understood he possessed the ability to fly. He flew over the earth a long time, and finally found the village where the woman lived¡­¡±


    Ziibi heard the door flap open slightly. In the smoky room she could not clearly see. Outside the sun had set and the cold was beginning to creep into the fartherest edges of the house. The sound of her father¡¯s voice droned on, but she did not hear a word he said. There was a presence among them. Her eyes scanned the group inside. In the back, by the door flap hidden in the shadows was a man.A startled gasp almost escaped her but she thrust it down. It was fitting that Ajijaak¡¯s spirit should be present at the naming of his son. It had just been so long since she had seen the spirit of her wolf Mikwam, she thought she had lost the knack of seeing spirits. Ajijaak¡¯s eyes were focused on his child. His face was lean, but calm. How handsome he was even in death. Ziibi¡¯s heart ached inside of her. It took all her will power not to go to him, not to attract any attention to him. He might vanish, and he must witness the naming of his son.


    Her father stopped speaking. The dream story was told, and Ziibi had not heard it. It did not matter, over the winter Wabisi and Ajijaak¡¯s noko would repeat it. Though she feared turning her eyes away from Ajijaak¡¯s spirit, she knew she must. It would be bad to dismiss the naming of a living child by being preoccupied with the dead.


    Her father unbound the baby from his cradle board. Free from its confines his naked plump body wriggled in delight. Ziibi glanced back at Ajijaak¡¯s spirit. He was smiling. Mikinak pressed the naked child against his own chest and closed his eyes. His soul and the soul of the child would be joined from this moment forward. Skin touching skin was how one soul communed with another. No words were spoken but all knew that Mikinak was giving of his own strength and wisdom to the child. When the transference of power was complete, Mikinak opened his eyes. He pulled the baby away from his chest. In a voice imbued with deep respect he said, ¡°Mikwam-amik, this is your name.¡±


    Never had Ziibi told anyone the name of Guardian. It was bad medicine to do so and yet, her father had dreamed of him, and named this child after him in part, the amik part paid homage to the baby¡¯s grandfather Misko-amik. It was a strange name. Ziibi had been certain it would be a name of a bird, but as she looked at this child¡¯s stout body she realized there was nothing about him that was bird like. He did look like a little solid beaver. The child chortled in delight.


    Just beyond the baby, Ziibi saw Ajijaak¡¯s noko take in a sniff of air. She sniffed again. Her face was transformed. She shoved and pushed her way around the circle. All eyes followed her. Ziibi knew where she was headed.

 Chapter 51. Answer in the Wind

    Warmth filled Ajijaak. His son had a name, and by the grace of the Great Spirit he had arrived in time to witness it. He saw the small drum that hung from his child¡¯s cradleboard, then his eyes returned to Mikinak. The older man, saw him. His face paled. He closed his mouth and stared in stunned silence. Moving toward him was his noko. Her nostril¡¯s flared as she sniffed the air. They both knew he was present. Another also knew. He had felt Ziibi¡¯s spirit the instant he stepped into the house. He had not expected her to be here and yet she was.


    The movement of his noko toward him, would bring him attention, he did not want. He started to slip out of the dooflap but before he could, his noko proclaimed, ¡°Ajijaak has returned to us from the Land of Souls. It is not often that a man returns. Many will hear my grandson¡¯s story, and many will remember his valor.¡±


    All eyes were on him now. Their eyes widened in fear. They did not think he was living they thought he was a spirit. His noko reached him, she took his hands in hers and said, ¡°See, he is flesh.¡±


    A gust of murmuring voices swirled around Ajijaak. He felt the strength of his noko¡¯s hands. She pulled him to her and hugged him. When she let go he looked beyond her into the face of his mother. Confusion and shock held her still. To have lost an only child, and then to have him restored was more than she ever anticipated. Unsteadily she rose to her feet. Without asking permission she took Mikwam-amik from Mikinak. She carried the boy to his father. Her trembling hands brushed against his as she transferred the baby. Mikwam-amik gave a delighted shriek. Ajijaak had been gone so long, yet his child had not forgotten him. He drew his boy to him. His skin touched that of his son¡¯s. Ajijaak felt his son¡¯s soul reach out and refresh his own. The impossible had happened.


    *


    That evening though he tried not to, Ajijaak watched Ziibi feed his child. She had not yet spoken to him or even met his eyes. Her presence was withdrawn from him. His mother motioned for him to come outside. He followed her. The stars shone down with gentle light. A cold breeze stirred the black and gray strands of his mother¡¯s hair. She wrapped her arms around him. He felt her tears drop onto his shoulder. She did not speak. There were not words for this time when a dead son was returned to his mother. It was a gift that almost no one received. She pulled away from him and looked up into his face. ¡°I am thankful that you have returned. Zhede, Ziibi and I have been making all the choices for your son, and now he is yours again.¡± Her voice dropped and she added, ¡°I am worried about Ziibi.¡±


    He signed, ¡°Why?¡±


    His mother shook her head. ¡°She has become very attached to him. For now, let her stay. Mikwam-amik has already lost one mother, it would not be good to lose another one. At least not yet, in time you may pick another woman.¡±


    The thought of risking love again found no place in Ajijaak. As for Ziibi, she was beautiful, young, and powerful. In his weakness, his loneliness, she would be such a temptation to him. His mother had waited a long time after the death of his father to take another. It seemed only fitting that he should do the same. And yet, after all Ziibi had done for him in his life, all she had devoted to his son, how could he tell her to just go?


    By the twitch of her lips, he could tell his mother had more to say, but she held her tongue. She motioned for him to followed her back inside.


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    While they were gone, Ziibi had crooned the baby to sleep. He was limp in her arms. A small trail of drool dribbled down her arm.With affection the name Ziibi echoed inside Ajijaak''s heart. Once she had been his little shadow. She had witnessed some of his finest and his most horrifying moments. She was more to him than a neighbor or friend, she always had been. Her spirit and his had always been connected. He had felt it the instant his son received a name, and he felt it now. What was he to do? He watched her lay the baby down on her pallet. His eyes followed her to the pot that warmed the baby¡¯s gruel and rice milk teat.


    Ziibi told him, ¡°He is getting his teeth, and he cries at night. Chewing on the teat sometimes soothes him.¡± Without another word, she climbed beneath her robes with the baby, his baby. Such longing tore through him. As grateful as he was to Ziibi, Winisik should be with their son, only she wasn¡¯t and she never would be in this life.


    Ajijaak went to his own pallet. For a long time he listened to the sweet sound of his son breathing. He did not know it, but his mother was listening to the sweet sound of her son breathing too.


    *


    It was strange, this new reverence that was being shown to him. He had lived always as an outcast, a broken and curse bound person. Now, he was being shown respect. If not for the bear man, he would have suffocated in his grave. He did not know how the bear man had known he was not yet dead, but he had known, and he had given him his life. The bear man had the same voice as the one who had chanted over Misko-amik¡¯s grave. He was the one who had come to him before he had made his journey to the Land of Souls. He was the one who told him, as Ziibi had in his dream, that he must fight to return to his son. When he was strong enough to care for himself the bear man had left him. He never told Ajijaak his name or where he came from. Though he seemed made of flesh, Ajijaak was never sure if the bear man was flesh. His spirit was so very strong it seemed to defy the limits of a human body.


    It had been three days since his return. This morning he was going with Zhede to fish. They needed more food for the winter now that he returned home. They would need less, once he told Ziibi she must return to her family. It would be hard to do. He saw how much she loved his son, but she was not his woman. He ached to use her to forget his pain, but he fought against this. She, who had done so much for him, deserved better. He questioned his own selfishness though. He wanted to use her, to save himself from doing so he wanted to rip the child she loved out of her arms.


    In the distance Ziibi walked. He saw her making her way to her father¡¯s house. As she progressed through the village, the eyes of many men turned to her. One man¡¯s eyes did not leave her, Maang¡¯s. He watched her with an intensity that concerned Ajijaak. His eyes did not leave her until she entered her father¡¯s house. When Ziibi came out of the house carrying a basket, Ajijaak saw Maang¡¯s eyes follow her again. When she had disappeared down the path to the river, Maang turned back to his net. As he did so his eyes met Ajijaak¡¯s. The fire in them went out and he smiled and nodded at Ajijaak as if they were friends. The were not friends and never would be. A badness was in Maang, a badness that was directed toward Ziibi.


    What was wrong with Maang? He had mated the most beautiful girl in the village, in many villages. Miinan¡¯s face and body were like a lily upon the waters. While Ziibi was fine to look at, she did not possess her sister¡¯s other worldly beauty. And yet, Maang, Miinan¡¯s man lusted after Ziibi. It was wrong. In his three days there he had not once heard Ziibi mention her sister¡¯s husband or look in his direction. In fact she always stayed as far away from him as possible. A frown creased Ajijaak¡¯s brow. S


    A small wind blew up and in the voice of the wind he heard the words Ziibi possesses power, Waabooz wanted her power, Maang does too, others will also. For the first time ever it occurred to Ajijaak that Ziibi, strong as she was, was also very vulnerable. Mikinak would never let Maang touch her when he was around. A father could not always be around. A man who wanted a woman would go to great lengths to get her. Some men had more than one partner. Some men joined themselves to more than one sister. Maang¡¯s union with Miinan as yet had not been very fruitful. Only one girl, no otherchildren had come to them, and they had been together longer than Ajijaak had been with Wiinizik.


    For several moments Ajijaak fought within himself. He so wanted to be free of Ziibi¡¯s continual presence. If she remained with them at the winter hunting grounds he would be in even closer contact with her. The past two nights he had watched her sleep. Her eyelashes were dark crescent moons against her cheeks.The temptation to caress her would take hold of him. It had been so long since he had shared his body with a woman. Wiinizik had not wanted him after the baby came. And still burned in his mind, was the image of his woman locked in the arms of another man. Fast the questions that haunted him came. Why had she gone to that man? Why? He had heard Waabooz had a way with the girls. He had heard Waabooz took advantage of young women, much to their own delight. Why had he chosen his woman on that night, and why had she responded as she did? How had Waabooz unlocked what Ajijaak had been unable to unlock Winisik?

 Chapter 52. And What of Ziibi (Last Chapter)

    The ants crawled along their own invisible path, storing their food for the winter. They would go deep inside their underground homes. The winter was coming, fast. The muskrat and the beaver were building thick walls to their homes. All the forest creatures were making preparations beyond the usual. Ziibi saw this, and so did her father. Both read the signs of nature and both were troubled. A long winter would bring death by starvation to any who were ill prepared. Blizzards would blow, like none she had ever known and spring would be a long time in coming. Her father came and stood beside her. He too looked at the ants. He said, ¡°I have given your winter¡¯s portion to Zhede. Wabisi and Noko have much to teach you about the healing and care of women. And the child of your spirit. He paused and said, ¡°I have seen the way Maang watches you. I will not risk your safety.¡±


    Strange embarrassment filled her. She wanted to ask, but could not manage to do so. Did her father think she encouraged Maang¡¯s attention?


    Bitterly her father said, ¡°Maang and his family deceived me. I should have been more clever, but I was obsessed with keeping my eldest daughter away from Ajijaak. I did not value him. He has become a worthy man. Give him time, my girl and he will discover his great affection for you.¡±


    Ziibi was stunned by her father¡¯s words. He would not say such a thing lightly or without careful thought. Honestly, she did not know if Ajijaak would ever recover from the way he lost Winisik, in fact she knew he wouldn¡¯t. A part of him, maybe most of him would be tied to her in this life. Could she join herself to such a man? If the man was Ajijaak, she knew without question she could.


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    *


    The night before they would head to their winter lodges, Ajijaak was by the fire holding his son. Ziibi saw joy mixed with his pain. The joy would grow in time and the pain would ease, but it would never leave him. The little boy was asleep. Ajijaak snuggled him close. He was a good father and she felt sure he would continue to be. Fear clutched at Ziibi¡¯s heart. If Ajijaak ever chose another wife, how would she let the both of them go? Unaware, Ajijaak was watching her, she hid her face in her hands.


    Ever the silent one, Ajijaak lay his son beneath the pallet of blankets and came to her. The fire light played across her dark hair. He placed his hand on her head. When she looked up at him, her eyes were full of tears. His hand slid down and cupped her chin. He squatted down beside her. Their eyes met. His thumb rubbed against her cheek. Gently, put his forehead against hers. She was aware he was holding back his passion. She could feel his breath on her face. Quietly she asked, ¡°What am I to you?¡±


    He pulled away from her and signed, ¡°A temptation and a life I want to share.¡±


    With a slight tilt to her head, she told him, ¡°It is still too soon. We have been a part a long time. We need time to learn each other.¡± He nodded. The smile she gave him was as reverent as was the smile he returned to her. In her heart, she felt the stirring of their future children.