Wabi

by Joseph Bruchac

  Malsumsis raised his head toward the sky and howled. Wigowzo and the other wolves joined in. Their song of loss and victory echoed across the whole of the wide valley. I raised my own head and sang with them.

  As if in answer, drops of rain began to fall. Down the rain came, washing our uplifted faces, mixing with our tears, moistening earth that had been dry for too long, washing away the ashes. All around us new blades of grass glistened as bright as life and hope returning.

  CHAPTER 32

  The Bone Lodge

  THAT GENTLE RAIN KEPT FALLING as we trotted across the land that now seemed less barren. It was not just the green of the new grass, it was also the feeling of a weight lifted from the air itself. There was still loss and sorrow here, but no longer any menace.

  The wolf pack led me to the place where the Oldold Woman had lived. I did not go inside. There was nothing of that evil creature’s that I wanted. It was bad enough looking at it from the outside. It was like a human wigwam, but it was even more like an upside-down nest. It was built of sticks and brush piled up and tied together by rawhide ropes. Shoved in among the brush and sticks were bones of all sizes. Many bones.

  I followed the wolves to the back of that bone lodge. Stakes had been driven into the ground. Other wolves were tied to some. There were many stakes, but only eight tethered wolves. They were thinner and weaker than those who pulled Winasosiz’s sled. Before long, their bones too might have become part of the cruel one’s lodge. All of them were alive, but even after I had untied them, three of the wolves could barely move. Their starved legs could not hold them up.

  Another sled was leaning against one of the empty stakes. I fastened ropes to it as the wolves who had led me to this place watched. They seemed uncertain. Would I make them pull as the evil one had done?

  Malsumsis barked at them. Do not think that. Watch.

  I carefully lifted each of the three wolves too weak to move on their own. They did not resist, but it was more from their own weakness than trust of my intent. One by one, I placed them on the sled. I tied my bow and arrows and Head Breaker to the front of the sled. Then, slinging the drag ropes over my own shoulders, I turned and began to pull. It was not that hard to do. The wolves were light and the urgency I felt made their weight seem even less, even as I climbed the small hill that rose before us. At the top I turned to look back at the empty lodge of Winasosiz.

  If I knew how to make fire as humans do, I thought, I would burn that place.

  A rumble came from overhead. Then a blinding flash split the sky as an arrow of lightning struck the lodge of bones, bursting it and setting it on fire. The wolves did not run in fear from that sound, that sudden burst of light. It was as if they had expected it. They all sat on their haunches, gravely watching. Even the three wolves on the sled turned their heads to look down the hill. Though the rain still fell, that lodge burned even more quickly than dry grass. Green smoke rose from it.

  “Grandfather,” I said, looking up at the sky. “Thank you again.”

  Then I turned my back on that place and leaned into the ropes. The sled slid easily over the moist ashes and the new grass. The wolf pack, led by Malsumsis and Wigowzo, coursed around me.

  When we came to the place where the body of Spear-tooth lay, I stopped. My own teeth were not strong enough and I no longer had the talons of an owl, but I had been thinking about how I could do this. I slid one of the arrows from my quiver and went down on one knee by the body of the dead monster. I had seen how large the muscles of its hindquarters were. Lots of meat there.

  With the sharp arrowhead, I cut through the skin and sliced away strips of red meat as the gathered wolf pack watched. I carried those pieces of meat over to the sled, and placed one piece of meat in front of each of the three weak wolves. At first they just licked the meat, then, little by little, they ate. I went back and cut more for them.

  Malsumsis and Wigowzo stood between the monster’s body and the other wolves who were waiting, tongues hanging out, their tails wagging. Malsumsis looked a question at me.

  Now?

  “It is theirs,” I said, waving my hand. “Let them eat.”

  Malsumsis turned and yelped at the waiting pack. In a quick gray flow, they were upon it.

  Spear-tooth had been large, but the appetite of those hungry wolves was even larger. It was not long before little was left other than the creature’s bones. By then, even those three wolves that had been too weak to walk were among those chewing at the monster’s remains.

  We rested there, but not long. I left the sled and the ropes behind when we entered the swamp. The trail seemed easier to follow now. We made our way quickly across. On the other side, again for the benefit of those wolves that had been so weakened, we rested once more.

  The sun was sinking beyond the hills, but the full face of the moon was already showing. Her light would make it easy for us to travel through the night. We passed through the forest, by the lightning-blasted hollow oak—which still smelled of well-cooked meat—stopping to drink at the spring, which now held no danger. The body of the gelabago had been eaten by the birds and the few small forest creatures that had survived its hunger. Its long bones were the only hint that a terrible creature had once lived in those clear waters.

  At last we reached the base of the tall range that stood between the wide valley and the home our hearts longed to see again. At the top of the ridge, we all stopped again. Our long valley had never looked so beautiful to me. I know that same feeling was in the minds of those with me.

  Malsumsis sat down, raised his head up to the sky, and let out a long, beautiful, ululating howl. One by one, the other wolves joined in, filling the night with their song of return.

  Happy as I was, I had a sudden feeling of uncertainty. Something seemed wrong. What was that in the patch of soft earth in front of me? I knelt beside it. The bright light of the full moon showed that it was indeed a footprint. It was three times as wide and four times as long as my own spread hand. The marks of four giant claws were dug deep into the earth. That footprint had not been here when we passed this way going into the wide valley. I made out another print, then another, farther down the slope. The trail led down toward the village where my humans lived.

  I lifted my hand up to feel the string of clay beads around my neck. I am not sure why I did that. They had been placed there by the old man whose name I had not learned. For some reason, even after having left the village in disgrace, I kept those beads meant to mark me as one who hunts for the people. Even though they might not want me, I would not desert them.

  CHAPTER 33

  The Torn Feather

  I MIGHT HAVE LOST THE trail of that big creature more than once had Malsumsis not been with me. Wigowzo had stayed with her exhausted pack just below the crest of the mountain. There were signs there of creatures good to eat such as rabbits and deer. The wolf pack would come down into the valley after they had rested, hunted, and recovered their strength. The long seasons of abuse at the hands of the evil old one would take time to heal. Weakened as they still were, none of them could move as swiftly now as could my wolf friend and I by ourselves. I needed to make haste.

  There were places where I found no tracks, but the scent of that big animal was strong enough for Malsumsis to keep on its trail. It had not gone on its way without stopping. We found where it came upon a small herd of deer bedded down for the night. Its speed and the fury of its attack must have been great. The badly mangled bodies of seven deer lay in the grass. It had not stayed there long. The deer were only half eaten.

  We came next to the place where there had been a quiet beaver pond. I’d always liked sitting in the dead tree at its edge, watching those busy creatures as they went about their night work, building and repairing their dam and their lodge. That dam had held back one of the small streams that led down into the long river. But it did so no longer.

  The light of the moon was strong enough for me to see what had happened when that huge animal passed through
. The dam had been destroyed, the pond had drained out. A trickle of water rippled through the peeled broken sticks that had once held back the flow. Big tracks led through the mud to the beaver lodge, which had also been exposed when the water level fell. The big animal was clever. It would have been hard to catch the beavers when they had water to swim in. So it drained their pond.

  The lodge, of course, was torn apart. That creature ripped its way down into the nest where the beavers had been no match for the hungry jaws and ripping claws. There were no longer any beavers here, only the smell of blood on the soft night wind. The tracks that came up from the mud of the former pond headed straight down the valley toward the village where Dojihla and her unsuspecting people lived.

  We ran even faster after that. I did not know how long it had taken that hungry monster to destroy the beaver colony or how many other times it had paused as it made its way through the valley. My worry was that it had reached the village.

  We came to the tree where my grandmother roosted, the circle of stones where I had fallen as an owl and stood up as a human being. I skidded to a stop. I felt a sudden pain deep in my chest. It was as if I had been struck by an invisible arrow. What was this before my eyes?

  I could not believe what I saw. The circle of stones was gone, the earth torn up in that circle where they had once stood. The footprints of the monster were everywhere. My great-grandmother’s tree had been knocked down. It lay broken on the ground, claw marks all along its trunk.

  “GREAT-GRANDMOTHER!” I shouted. “WHERE ARE YOU?”

  No answering hoot came back from the wounded forest around me. But I saw something that made tears come to my human eyes. There, caught on one of the broken branches of the fallen tree, was the torn wing feather of an owl. I went down on one knee and stroked that feather with a finger.

  “Great-grandmother,” I whispered. “I am sorry that I left you and our valley undefended.”

  I stood and began to run again. This was not the moment for me to roost on a branch, feeling guilty about not having been able to protect her. What I had to do now was reach the village before the creature did.

  My feet thudded against the earth. I was moving almost as swiftly as an owl can fly. Small branches struck my face. Some of them cut my cheeks, but I did not pause. I was so angry now that if that monster, whatever it was, had risen up in my path I would have hurled myself at it to tear its throat out with my teeth. As Malsumsis ran along next to me, matching me stride for stride, my wolf friend felt my mood and growled in agreement.

  We came around that turn where the trail rose and I could peer down at Valley Village. It was still there, undestroyed! But it looked far different this night than it had ever looked before. It glowed from the lights of more fires than I’d ever seen. Those fires made an unbroken ring all around Valley Village. I could make out the shapes of humans inside, throwing more wood onto the flames.

  I sighed with relief and placed my hand on Malsumsis’s head.

  “They are safe,” I said to him. “Somehow, they knew that the monster was about to attack. Those fires will keep it from coming into their village.”

  I squinted my eyes. The piles of logs and brush that had been gathered to feed the fires were not that large. They would not be safe in Valley Village for long. There was still much of the night left. When they ran out of wood, those guardian flames would die.

  I scanned the darkness around the village. I did not see the big animal, but I knew it was out there somewhere, watching and waiting. It had come from the wide valley where the Oldold Woman used fire to destroy the land. This hungry beast might fear the searing touch of flames, but it had seen burning before. It knew that all fires eventually go out. When the fires grew low it would attack.

  I looked again into the village. Men were standing around inside that circle. They held bows and spears. They were watching and waiting. But that circle was large and those armed men few. How could they know where the beast would strike? Could they be sure that their arrows and spears would fly true?

  “Wait here,” I said to Malsumsis. “Watch.”

  Then, my bow and quiver slung over my shoulder, Head Breaker in my hand, I went down the hill to Valley Village.

  CHAPTER 34

  The Circle of Flame

  UNLIKE THAT MONSTER WHICH ROAMED somewhere in the woods around Valley Village, I had no fear of fire. I could easily have leaped over that circle of flame around Valley Village. But I did not like the idea of having arrows shot at me by men ready to attack anything that tried to break through. I stopped just outside and called out loudly enough to be heard over the roaring crackle of burning logs and brush.

  “NIDOBAK,” I shouted, “MY FRIENDS, LET ME ENTER.”

  One whose hearing was that of an ordinary human might not have heard how the humans on the other side of the fire reacted to my words.

  “Who is that?” a man’s nervous voice said.

  “Should we let him come in?” said another man.

  “Perhaps it is a trick,” a third man said. His voice was even more uncertain than the first man’s had been. In spite of the danger, I smiled. It was the large young man who had tried to be my friend. Fat Face.

  “NIDOBA, FAT FACE,” I shouted again, “IT IS WABI!”

  “I know that voice,” a fourth person said. His tone was not uncertain, but grave and clear, that of a man whose years had given him wisdom. It was Dojihla’s father, Wowadam.

  “It is indeed Wabi, great-grandson of Nadialid,” Wowadam said. “Make an opening! Let him enter.”

  Almost immediately, the section of the fire in front of me began to move. The fires were burning so hot that no one could approach them too closely, but the men had fashioned poles of green wood, three times as long as a man is tall. They were using them to push and pry the brush and logs to the side to make an opening. It was hard work. Those poles were so heavy that they could only lift them with difficulty and then drag them by one end. Hard and hardly necessary. I could leap high enough.

  I took a step back, made a short run, and jumped. I soared over that opening, over the heads of the men, and landed softly on the ground behind them.

  Everyone turned to stare at me, their mouths open. Perhaps, I just leaped a little too high, I thought.

  “Who are you?” Fat Face said, dropping the pole he had been using to shift the fire.

  “You know me,” I said, putting a hand on his shoulder to reassure him. “I am Wabi, just Wabi.” I tapped the beads that hung around my neck. Fat Face had been close by my side when the old man had given them to me. “Remember?”

  “Ah,” Fat Face said, “Wabi. Wabi, ah, of course.” But he did not look or sound reassured. When I lifted my hand from his shoulder he took several steps backward very quickly. A little too quickly, for he stumbled and sat down hard on the ground, his eyes still on me.

  I turned toward Dojihla’s father. He, at least, had a smile on his face, even though I did not understand what he meant by what he said next.

  “Just Wabi and nothing more? No other name?”

  “Yes,” I replied. “What else?”

  Dojihla’s father nodded his head. “Of course. What else indeed?” He reached his hand out to grasp my forearm. “I am glad to see you.”

  That surprised me, considering how I had left Valley Village. Not only that, I no longer wore my headband. Though I had given them no thought at all until now, my ears—so unlike those of a real human being—were clearly visible, their feathery tips rising up above my hair. But Wowadam was not looking at my ears. His eyes held mine, looking into them in a way that told me he was really seeing me. He truly was glad I was there.

  I couldn’t understand that. And there was another thing I couldn’t understand.

  “How did you know that a monster was coming?” I asked, swinging my free arm toward the fire that was at least the work of a full day.

  “We were warned,” Wowadam said. “So we spent all day gathering fuel and making the fires. And it was
good that we did so. Just as we finished, Majiawasos came rushing from the forest, knocking down trees. But when he saw our fires, he feared to cross them. He circled our village for half the night, roaring with anger. He just went back among the trees before you arrived.”

  Majiawasos. The Bad Bear. So it was a huge bearlike monster. That made sense to me. But who had warned them?

  However, I had more important questions to ask first.

  “Is everyone safe inside the village?”

  Dojihla’s father nodded. “We gathered everyone in before the fires were lit.”

  Relief washed over me like a gentle night wind that lifts your wings. I looked around at the circle of faces that had begun to gather as word of my presence spread. Of course, not everyone came to look at me. All around the village, people had to stay by their posts, piling on more fuel to keep the fires burning. But those who had come to look also seemed pleased to see me. All but two women, one older and one young. The older woman’s face was one I recognized. It was Dojihla’s mother. She and the girl beside her appeared worried.

  “My husband,” she said, “all are not gathered here inside our village.”

  Wowadam turned to her. “What do you mean? Everyone was told that they must stay within the circle of fire if they did not want to be caught by Majiawasos. Who would be headstrong enough to . . .”

  Dojihla’s father stopped talking in midsentence as the thought struck him.

  Dojihla’s mother nodded. She indicated the girl who stood beside her. “Peskawawon has just told me, even though Dojihla forbade her to do so. Her best friend, our daughter, slipped away into the forest before the fires were lit.”

  “Why would she do that?” Wowadam asked.

  “She said that just making fires around us would not be enough,” Peskawawon said, her words bursting forth in a torrent like water from a broken dam. “Those fires would burn out and then we would not be safe. She said that she had to find the Village Guardian because only he could save us. Perhaps he would forgive her and come back.”