After a short time we arrived at the pond. Our plan was to take no more than two beavers. That way we knew there would be more in the coming years. The Omàmiwinini never take more than is needed. That way we never incur the wrath of Kitchi Manitou.
We sat by the pond and ate some dry moose meat we had brought with us. We tied the rope to our arrows and to our waist. When a beaver is hit with an arrow it swims down into the water and heads for its watery home. With the rope tied around our waist, we stopped their progress and then pulled them to shore where we could finish them off with our clubs.
After sitting for a long time, two young beavers broke out of the water. We had made sure that we were downwind, and I had tied Ishkodewan in the forest. We let the beavers get close to our arrow range. Our bows twanged simultaneously. Wàgosh’s arrow hit his beaver on the animal’s side and mine was below the head. Our ropes tightened as the beavers dove back down into the water. It was then a race to see who pulled their kill to land first. The loser would have to carry the carcasses home. Wàgosh beat me handily. Mine was a fighter and when I got him to shore, he charged me. However, I was able to club him before he bit me.
Then, laying the beavers on their back on a large rock, we cut the legs off at the first joints and then slit the pelt starting at the lower lip. Inserting our knives into this slit we cut the pelt down the belly to the vent. Working from this centerline and cutting with short strokes, we separated the skin from the flesh. Carefully, we pulled the legs through the skin, leaving four round holes in the pelt. We then cut off the tail. With great care we cut around the eyes and the ears close to the skull. Then removing the pelt and being careful to take as little fat and flesh as possible we laid the pelt on the rock and wiped off the blood marks with water.
We then proceeded to take out the scent glands from near the tail and the insides of the legs, being careful not to rupture the sacs. We would use these scents to bait our snare traps for other beavers and for the odjìg (fisher), a predator of the beaver.
The beaver tails and meat would make a fine feast for us. Wàbananang would be able to stretch and clean the pelts and make a warm coat or hat.
After finishing with the beaver I wrapped the meat up into the skins and tied everything together and slung it over my shoulders to carry back. Wàgosh and I then went back and retrieved Ishkodewan from the woods and fed him a piece of the meat.
“Wàgosh, on the way back we’ll check the sap containers and dump what we have into our clay pots. Hopefully, we’ll have enough for the women to boil today.”
Upon reaching the maple forest we started to collect the sweet water. Then I heard an arrow whistle by my head and thud into the tree beside me.
11
Mitigomij
WÀGOSH SNAPPED HIS HEAD around and yelled, “Brother, stop that!”
With that, the two of us turned around and out of the forest came Mitigomij (Red Oak).
“Brothers, if I was a Haudenosaunee you both would be dead right now!”
“Mitigomij, with you around we have no fear of Haudenosaunee. We know that you would have already killed them,” said Wàgosh.
“Is that mishi-pijiw you call Makadewà Wàban (Black Dawn) with you?” I asked.
“Brother, there is only one way to find out, and that is to pretend to attack me.”
Wàgosh then said, “We are not that foolish, Mitigomij!”
Mitigomij was my third brother. He was the best archer in our tribe and his power with a wewebasinàbàn (slingshot) was second to none. Mitigomij was also accomplished with the anit (spear), mìgàdinàn pagamàgin (war club), and mòkomàn (knife). He is a great minisìnò (warrior) and kigàdjigwesì (hunter), but our brother had one major problem that kept him from going on the warpath and hunting trips with us. Mitigomij would slow the party down. Twenty-two winters ago he was born with a pagamàgin ozid (clubfoot). Our brother had trouble walking for any length of distance and could not run at all. Because of this, he honed his weaponry skills to be the finest of all the Omàmiwinini. Our family unit and Algonquins all in all treated him as a special gift and all the great warriors and hunters taught him their skills. With these teachings Mitigomij became the best of the best.
When he was young, if the other children picked on him or teased him, he was quick to settle it in a decisive way. He always stood up for anyone being bullied and gained the respect and fear of his peers.
Travel on land was Mitigomij’s biggest hindrance, but when it came to canoeing or swimming, no one in our band was his equal. As long as I could remember no one had ever beaten him in swimming, archery, or a canoeing contest. Many had tried. When the Innu and Malecite came for gatherings, they always brought their top warriors to try and defeat him in these contests. They were never successful. His upper body was the envy of all the young men. His one good leg was strong and healthy, but the leg with the clubfoot was withered. Because Mitigomij was so well treated by the warriors when he was young, he had taken it upon himself to be the self appointed teacher of all the young children for their weaponry and hunting skills.
When Mitigomij was twelve winters he came upon a panther that had a young male cub. The cub was black. A black panther is a melanistic variant and very rare. As rare as a white panther. He watched the mother and cub from a distance and the female came to accept him. Mitigomij observed as the mother killed game and brought it back to the young one. When the cub got older the mishi-pijiw took the cub on hunting trips and let him watch as she made her kill.
One early morning the mother was hunting and brought down a deer. The young male was lying in the woods watching and Mitigomij was at a distance. As the mother started to drag the kill to her cub’s hiding place, a pack of several wolves came upon the panther and attacked her for the fresh kill. She had no chance and died defending her prey and her cub’s hiding place.
Mitigomij knew that the cub now was defenseless and needed his help to survive. He got to the cub while the wolves were preoccupied with his mother. Then he grabbed him and took him back to the den.
For the next six or eight months Mitigomij brought meat for the young male. He never once brought him to the village. His thinking was that this was one of Kitchi Manitou’s special creatures, and that he must leave him wild. With the help of Mitigomij supplying him with game, the cat became big and strong and totally devoted to my brother.
The cat would never show itself unless Mitigomij called him out of hiding. Makadewà Wàban was never far from my brother, always lurking in the shadows.
Mitigomij gained his warriorhood long before he ever took the Wysoccan Journey.
He was now twenty-two winters old, but when he was sixteen he proved beyond a doubt that he and Makadewà Wàban were not ever to be underestimated.
It was during the spring running of the suckers. Mitigomij was about an hour from the village along a small stream spearing the fish to bring home. My brother never strayed too far from the confines of the band because of his struggle to walk, but this day he went beyond his own boundaries. Where it would take us an hour to get somewhere, it took him two or three times as long.
Mitigomij was spearing and bringing in the suckers and every once in a while would throw one to the edge of the forest for Makadewà Wàban. Mitigomij was so engrossed in his task that he never noticed the four Haudenosaunee on the opposite bank, until Makadewà Wàban screamed a warning. They were young and probably out on a trek to find village locations or to capture lone people off by themselves in the forest. They travelled lightly for speed and effectiveness, living off of the land.
The four warriors charged across the small stream. Mitigomij threw his fishing spear at the lead warrior, catching the young man by surprise at the speed and accuracy of the throw. The spear entered his throat and exited halfway out the other side. He died in the stream, reddening the waters where he fell. When the next warrior reached the bank he was met head on by Makadewà Wàban, who knocked him down and started tearing at his