“Who did she go to look for?” I asked, even though, dense as I am, I finally knew.
“She went to look for you,” all those gathered around me said as one.
“After you left the village,” Fat Face said, the friendly look back again, “people began to talk about you. They realized that with your strength and skill, you could easily have done us harm if you had wished to. You were not a monster.”
“Then,” Peskawawon said, “Dojihla herself decided who you really were. And she was so sorry that she had driven you away.”
I knew then what I had to do. And an idea came to me about how I could do it.
“Which way did she go?” I said to Peskawawon.
“Toward the cliffs,” she said, motioning with her chin.
A tall old woman with a kind face was looking at me from the far end of the crowd. Her hands were held up to get my attention. But I had no time to speak with anyone else. I turned toward Fat Face.
“My friend,” I said, “I am taking your fire pole.”
I lifted it from the ground. It was made from a young ash tree. It was as big around as my wrist. Where the end of it had been used to move the burning wood and brush, it had burned off into a hardened tip that was almost as sharp as a spear.
I unslung my bow and arrows from my shoulder. I would need both hands for this.
“Here,” I said, putting my club into the hands of Fat Face. “Take care of this for me. His name is Head Breaker.”
Then I lifted the pole to my shoulder, ran hard, and jumped with it over the circling fire, back out into the night where Majiawasos roamed.
CHAPTER 35
The Steep Slope
I HAD TAKEN ONLY A few strides when Malsumsis leaped out of the forest at me. I almost stumbled, off balance from the weight of the fire pole, but recovered and kept running. My wolf friend joined me, running by my side as close as a second shadow.
I did not speak, but Malsumsis sensed the seriousness of my mood. We had to move quickly. We ran in a great arc, skirting the edge of the fire-circled village. Although my nose was not as sharp as that of my wolf friend, we both found the scent trail of Majiawasos, the Bad Bear, at the same time.
That scent. We’d first noticed it as we came over the crest of the mountain and stood in that pass between the two valleys. It had been faint then, but was strong now. It was the normal scent of a bear and it was not. A bear has the musky smell of earth and fur and its own sweat and the food that it eats. The Bad Bear’s scent was that and much more. The wholesome smell of a normal bear was washed over by the rankness of burned hair and flesh, and decay. This creature reeked of death.
There was not just one scent trail here for Malsumsis to follow. There were two. My own weaker nose caught that second scent as well. It was the clean smell of a strong young woman, her smoke-tanned doeskin dress, her hair that was washed clean and tied back. I knew why the great creature had ceased its circling around Valley Village. It had caught the odor of one of those human creatures it sought to destroy. It was on Dojihla’s trail.
Is it possible to be in love with someone and be very angry at her at the same time? Why was Dojihla so stubborn, so headstrong? Why did she fool herself into believing that I was so competent as a Village Guardian that I would always come help her village when it was in danger? Didn’t she know that I was just as capable of making mistakes as any other human? I was almost as angry as I was afraid that I would be too late.
Even without the help of Malsumsis’s nose, the trail would have been easy for me to follow. Whereas Dojihla had slipped through the forest on winding paths made first by deer and then by generations of humans, the giant bear had gone straight, tearing through the brush, knocking over the trees. This creature was at war with all that lived.
The sun began to lift above the cliffs in front of us. I felt its welcome warmth on my face. For the first time, I greeted it the way I had always greeted its paler sister of the night sky.
“Bright one,” I said as I ran, speaking those words I had once said as a night-hunting owl, “thank you for your light. Help me find that which I seek.”
Malsumsis was a few strides ahead of me as we came out of the forest. By now I realized that the path we were following, the branch in the trail that Dojihla had taken, was a choice made by one who knew she was being pursued. The other branch in the trail led to an open area away from the cliffs. There she would have been exposed to the monster that was after her.
But the way she had chosen was different. The trail was narrower here because of the fallen stones from the cliff. Some of those boulders were so large that even the giant bear had been unable to shoulder them aside as it ran. Instead it had to go around or over them, slowing its pace. Not only that, around the next bend in the trail there were caves in the face of the cliff. I had seen them during my night flights. Sometimes bats flew out of those dark openings in the stone. Hard to catch, but crunchy and tasty. If she had reached one of those caves, perhaps . . .
“Malsumsis,” I called in an urgent voice, “Stop!”
Malsumsis stopped before he went around the bend in the trail. I came up beside him, breathing in and out deeply, slowing my heart and listening to see if I would hear again what I thought I had heard.
And from around the bend that sound did come again.
THUMP, THUMP, THUMP-THUMP-THUMP WHACK!
Holding my hand out in the signal for my wolf friend to wait, I crept forward to peer around the bend in the trail. It was just as well that I was cautious. There, just around that bend, was a sudden, steep, and slippery slope. Such a steep slope would have been no problem if I had still been a creature with wings. But one with legs would have found himself sliding down headlong toward the bottom. And there, at the bottom of that slope, was Majiawasos.
The monster bear was not looking our way. Instead, standing on its hind legs, it was trying to scale the steep cliff in front of it. It was totally intent on the small figure who looked down from the mouth of a cave above it. Majiawasos was grimly silent as it slowly crawled up. Its claws dug into the stone face, catching on those same handholds Dojihla had used to scramble up to the shallow cave that was her place of refuge.
Dojihla had gone as high as she could go. She was trapped by the steepness of the stone overhang above her. But, in her usual determined way, Dojihla was not waiting for the monster to reach her. Instead she was pushing hard against another of the big stones at the mouth of her cave. One more shove and it went rolling down.
THUMP, THUMP, THUMP-THUMP-THUMP WHACK!
The stone struck one of Majiawasos’s paws, knocking it free from its grasp on the cliff face.
“ROWWWRRR!”
The giant bear let out a great roar that echoed back from the cliff. It slid back down to the bottom, shaking the paw that had been struck by the boulder. But it was not badly hurt. It raked its claws in fury against the broken pieces of the stone that had grazed it, scattering them in all directions. Then, once again as silent as death, it resumed its climb.
There was, I could see, only one more stone that might be pushed down. It looked far too large for Dojihla to move. Even though she was leaning against it with her back, pushing with both her legs, her face flushed from the strain, that stone did not want to budge.
There was only one thing I could think to do—if you could call what I did next a thoughtful action.
“HOOO-HOOO,” I shouted.
My call was so high, so loud that both Dojihla and the monster bear turned their heads in my direction.
The look that came into Dojihla’s eyes made my heart leap. She really was glad to see me.
“Wabi! I knew you would come for me!” she called. It was not just the words that she spoke, but the way she spoke them that made my heart jump even higher.
“Dojihla,” I said, “stay there.”
Foolish words, I know. She could not go higher and was certainly not about to climb down toward certain death. But that was all I could manage to say.
I wanted to say more. I wanted to tell her how I had always felt about her. I wanted to let her know that I longed to spend the rest of my life with her. However, my mouth could not find such words. Perhaps it was because I was not certain if I was going to survive what I was about to do. Then again, I did not have that much time for such a conversation.
But even though I could not talk, I could still act.
“HOOO-HOOO!” I shouted. The Bad Bear had stopped trying to climb. It was looking in my direction.
Then, holding the long, sharp pole firmly under my arm, I leaped forward and began to slide on my back down that steep slope.
CHAPTER 36
The Weight of the Great Bear
I KNOW THAT IT MUST have taken no more than the space of a few heartbeats for me to reach the bottom of that slope, but it seemed much longer. Sometimes things happen that way, such as when you are swooping down on a nice fat rabbit and you suddenly find yourself noticing every little detail—that the bush it has just crept out of is one of those that has yellow flowers, that there are three tall blades of grass next to the rabbit’s front paws, that the rabbit is acting as if it is frozen.
But I was not swooping toward a rabbit, my wings holding me perfectly in control for the strike of my claws. The only control I had was on my gaze and the direction I pointed the sharp end of my fire stick. The great bear’s paws were held wide, its own terrible claws were extended. Its gaping mouth showed yellow-stained teeth.
Yet the menace of that monster was not the only thing I noted in the brief moment that seemed to go on and on and on. What I saw made me feel pity for the creature that now intended to crush my bones and tear my flesh. Though the great creature’s muscles still rippled with power, it was gaunt and had been wounded many times. There was dead flesh around its wounds. There were burn marks all over its body. One of its eyes was missing. Its wounds were too many to heal, the rot of its body too far advanced. It was living as it died. That was why the smell of burning and rotted flesh was part of its scent.
“AHHHHWRURRR!”
Its low, rumbling roar seemed to go on forever. All that kept the great bear going was its desire to hurt other things as it had been hurt, to strike blindly against its own pain.
I knew this, for as with the wolves and the Oldold Woman, I could sense its deeper thoughts. There was an undercurrent of memory—of the beginning of its own agony when it had been captured. I felt the great bear’s memories of its pain as it had struggled to break the bonds that held it while the evil Oldold Woman tortured it for no reason other than her own amusement. Then, one night, it had torn itself free and fled. It had made its way across the swamp, through the forest and up the mountain, coming into this valley to escape. However, although it had escaped, it was not free. Its body was on fire with a pain that never left. Its mind had been broken. It was mad.
This great bear, which was now so close that I could feel the heat of its breath, was not like those other monsters I had fought. Only its size made it different from other bears. Before it had been caught and tortured, its only wish had been to live as a bear lives. Now the only thing that would heal its tortured spirit would be to release it from its body. To kill the bear would be an act not just of battle, but also of mercy.
That is what I thought and saw as I slid toward that giant animal that had become death walking. Then I hit the bottom of the slope. Things no longer moved as slowly as a dream. The creature loomed over me like a great black cloud in the sky. It lunged down at me as I managed to raise the long fire stick, bracing it against the rock beneath me, pointing it at the wide, fire-scarred chest.
Although that stick was not as sharp as an owl’s claws, it was sharp enough. The weight of the great bear, the speed of its thrust toward me, drove the fire-hardened tip deep into its chest.
“AHWROOOO!”
It roared again then, not just in pain, but also in anger and frustration. It was being killed by my rough spear, but it was determined not to die alone. It thrust down, driving the spear deeper into its own body to reach me.
THUMP, THUMP, THUMP-THUMP.
The sound came from the cliff above us. I turned my head to look. I had been wrong about Dojihla’s determination. That final stone had not been too large for her to move. It was rolling down toward the great bear and myself. We were both about to be crushed by its inexorable weight.
I felt sharp teeth sink into my shoulder and pull, just before the boulder completed its descent.
THUMP-THUMP, THUD!
Then the Great Darkness opened its wings around me. I saw and felt and heard nothing else.
CHAPTER 37
Good Medicine
WABI, YOU HAVE DONE WELL.
I knew that voice. It was my great-grandmother’s, yet there was something strange about it. It seemed both close and far away, there in the darkness that held me. I felt her beak gently preening the feathers on my head. No, fingers were brushing the hair back from my forehead. Fingers?
Have you ever been in the midst of a dream and became terribly confused when you suddenly realized it was a dream and not reality? That is how it was for me as I struggled to wake. Was I an owl dreaming that I was a human or a human dreaming that I was an owl?
I opened one eye and saw what I was. No owl had a nose like the one I could see there in the corner of my eye. No owl was able to move its eye around in its socket the way I was now moving mine. I was still in a human body.
With that one open eye, I also saw where I was. I was inside a wigwam, the arc of bent poles covered with animal skins and tree bark above me. I tried to open my other eye, but there was something blocking my vision. I tried to lift up my arm on that side to feel what was there. A sharp stabbing pain shot through my shoulder as I did so. I could not move that arm at all. It seemed to be fastened to my chest. I struggled to sit up, but it was so hard to do. I felt dizzy.
“Be calm,” said a pleasant voice from the side where my other eye could not open. I turned my head to look. A man and a woman sat there near the door of the lodge. I had the feeling they had been there for some time.
“Be calm,” the man said again. I suddenly recognized who he was. It was Dojihla’s father, Wowadam. “You were struck hard by some of the pieces of stone from the avalanche. But all of your injuries will heal, including your eye that is now covered to protect it.”
“It is true,” said the woman who sat next to him. It was Dojihla’s mother. I noticed how, just like her husband, she was sitting completely still with her hands clasped in her lap. Strange.
“Olinebizon,” she continued, “has assured us that you will be well and strong again. She will be back soon and tell you herself.”
Olinebizon? Good Medicine? Who was that? I knew no one of that name.
I reached my good arm up to touch my painful shoulder. As I felt it, I remembered the stab of sharp teeth just before the darkness came over me.
“Do not remove that poultice, Wabi,” Dojihla’s father said. “Good Medicine Woman has assured us that it will draw out the pain and help you heal.” He raised a hand to gesture that I should lie back.
“Rrrrrrrrrr!”
A threatening growl came from just behind my head and Dojihla’s father quickly dropped his hand back into his lap.
“Your friend is very protective,” he said, his voice just a little nervous. “I would say that he is a wolf were he not so much larger than any other wolf I have ever seen before.”
Then Malsumsis leaned foward to look down at me and lick my cheek.
“There are only two people he will allow to touch you,” Dojihla’s mother said. “We can approach no closer than here by the door of the lodge.”
“Despite the fact,” Dojihla’s father said, “that we have been ordered by a certain one of those two people—”
“No,” Dojihla’s mother said, “not ordered. We have been asked.”
“Ordered,” Dojihla’s father continued, “to keep watch over you when neither one is here.”<
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Malsumsis came around to my side. I raised my good hand to stroke his head. I noticed how he was looking at my wounded shoulder. The way he looked was almost . . . what? Guilty, that was it. It came to me then what had happened.
“My friend,” I said, “was it your teeth I felt in my shoulder?”
Malsumsis lowered his head and whined.
Sorry.
“No,” I said. “Do not be sorry. You dragged me to safety. If you had not done so, I would have been crushed.” Then a thought came to me. “Dojihla?” I said, trying to sit up. “Where is she?”
Dojihla’s mother carefully raised her hand. “Be calm. She is well.”
“And Majiawasos, the Bad Bear, was destroyed by the avalanche that came down that cliff side,” Dojihla’s father said.
“When you are well and strong you can go there and see,” Dojihla’s mother added.
“But there will be little left to see other than bones,” Wowadam added. “According to some of our young men who went to view that place, a pack of wolves came down from the mountain and has fed on the creature’s body.”
“Good,” I said, a smile starting to come to my face. “But, wait, no one has tried to bother those wolves, have they?”
Dojihla’s father laughed. “No, of course not. As long as they go their way and allow us to go ours, we are happy to share this valley with them. There has always been room for both wolves and humans. When they were gone, we missed them. It’s been good to hear their songs on the night wind again.”
Then I began to hear something new. It was the sound of two women talking to each other as they approached the door of the lodge.
“Ah,” said Dojihla’s mother, turning toward the door. “Here are the two who have been caring for you, Wabi. We will leave you in their care now.”
“My dear wife means that we will leave before we are ordered to leave,” Dojihla’s father said with a smile. He followed her out the door.
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