CHAPTER NINE
Had Makoki, the leather-faced old Cree runner between God's Lake andFort Churchill, known the history of Miki and Neewa up to the pointwhere they came to feast on the fat and partly devoured carcass of theyoung caribou bull, he would have said that Iskoo Wapoo, the GoodSpirit of the beasts, was watching over them most carefully. For Makokihad great faith in the forest gods as well as in those of his owntepee. He would have given the story his own picturesque version, andwould have told it to the little children of his son's children; andhis son's children would have kept it in their memory for their ownchildren later on.
It was not in the ordained nature of things that a black bear cub and aMackenzie hound pup with a dash of Airedale and Spitz in him should"chum up" together as Neewa and Miki had done. Therefore, he would havesaid, the Beneficent Spirit who watched over the affairs of four-leggedbeasts must have had an eye on them from the beginning. It wasshe--Iskoo Wapoo was a goddess and not a god--who had made Challonerkill Neewa's mother, the big black bear; and it was she who had inducedhim to tie the pup and the cub together on the same piece of rope, sothat when they fell out of the white man's canoe into the rapids theywould not die, but would be company and salvation for each other.NESWA-PAWUK ("two little brothers") Makoki would have called them; andhad it come to the test he would have cut off a finger before harmingeither of them. But Makoki knew nothing of their adventures, and onthis morning when they came down to the feast he was a hundred milesaway, haggling with a white man who wanted a guide. He would never knowthat Iskoo Wapoo was at his side that very moment, planning the thingthat was to mean so much in the lives of Neewa and Miki.
Meanwhile Neewa and Miki went at their breakfast as if starved. Theywere immensely practical. They did not look back on what had happened,but for the moment submerged themselves completely in the present. Thefew days of thrill and adventure through which they had gone seemedlike a year. Neewa's yearning for his mother had grown less and lessinsistent, and Miki's lost master counted for nothing now, as thingswere going with him. Last night was the big, vivid thing in theirmemories--their fight for life with the monster owls, their flight, thekilling of the young caribou bull by the wolves, and (with Miki) theshort, bitter experience with Maheegun, the renegade she-wolf. Hisshoulder burned where she had torn at him with her teeth. But this didnot lessen his appetite. Growling as he ate, he filled himself until hecould hold no more.
Then he sat back on his haunches and looked in the direction Maheegunhad taken.
It was eastward, toward Hudson Bay, over a great plain that lay betweentwo ridges that were like forest walls, yellow and gold in the morningsun. He had never seen the world as it looked to him now. The wolveshad overtaken the caribou on a scarp on the high ground that thrustitself out like a short fat thumb from the black and owl-infestedforest, and the carcass lay in a meadowy dip that overhung the plain.From the edge of this dip Miki could look down--and so far away thatthe wonder of what he saw dissolved itself at last into the shimmer ofthe sun and the blue of the sky. Within his vision lay a paradise ofmarvellous promise; wide stretches of soft, green meadow; clumps oftimber, park-like until they merged into the deeper forest that beganwith the farther ridge; great patches of bush radiant with thecolouring of June; here and there the gleam of water, and half a mileaway a lake that was like a giant mirror set in a purplish-green frameof balsam and spruce.
Into these things Maheegun, the she-wolf, had gone. He wondered whethershe would come back. He sniffed the air for her. But there was nolonger the mother-yearning in his heart. Something had already begun totell him of the vast difference between the dog and the wolf. For a fewmoments, still hopeful that the world held a mother for him, he hadmistaken her for the one he had lost. But he understood now. A littlemore and Maheegun's teeth would have snapped his shoulder, or slashedhis throat to the jugular. TEBAH-GONE-GAWIN (the One Great Law) wasimpinging itself upon him, the implacable law of the survival of thefittest. To live was to fight--to kill; to beat everything that hadfeet or wings. The earth and the air held menace for him. Nowhere,since he had lost Challoner, had he found friendship except in theheart of Neewa, the motherless cub. And he turned toward Neewa now,growling at a gay-plumaged moose-bird that was hovering about for amorsel of meat.
A few minutes before, Neewa had weighed a dozen pounds; now he weighedfourteen or fifteen. His stomach was puffed out like the sides of anoverfilled bag, and he sat humped up in a pool of warm sunshine lickinghis chops and vastly contented with himself and the world. Miki rubbedup to him, and Neewa gave a chummy grunt. Then he rolled over on hisfat back and invited Miki to play. It was the first time; and with ajoyous yelp Miki jumped into him. Scratching and biting and kicking,and interjecting their friendly scrimmage with ferocious growling onMiki's part and pig-like grunts and squeals on Neewa's, they rolled tothe edge of the dip. It was a good hundred feet to the bottom--a steep,grassy slope that ran to the plain--and like two balls they catapultedthe length of it. For Neewa it was not so bad. He was round and fat,and went easily.
With Miki it was different. He was all legs and skin and angular bone,and he went down twisting and somersaulting and tying himself intoknots until by the time he struck the hard strip of shale at the edgeof the plain he was drunk with dizziness and the breath was out of hisbody. He staggered to his feet with a gasp. For a space the world waswhirling round and round in a sickening circle. Then he pulled himselftogether, and made out Neewa a dozen feet away.
Neewa was just awakening to the truth of an exhilarating discovery.Next to a boy on a sled, or a beaver on its tail, no one enjoys a"slide" more than a black bear cub, and as Miki rearranged hisscattered wits Neewa climbed twenty or thirty feet up the slope anddeliberately rolled down again! Miki's jaws fell apart in amazement.Again Neewa climbed up and rolled down--and Miki ceased to breathealtogether. Five times he watched Neewa go that twenty or thirty feetup the grassy slope and tumble down. The fifth time he waded into Neewaand gave him a rough-and-tumble that almost ended in a fight.
After that Miki began exploring along the foot of the slope, and for ascant hundred yards Neewa humoured him by following, but beyond thatpoint he flatly refused to go. In the fourth month of his excitingyoung life Neewa was satisfied that Nature had given him birth that hemight have the endless pleasure of filling his stomach. For him, eatingwas the one and only excuse for existing. In the next few months he hada big job on his hands if he kept up the record of his family, and thefact that Miki was apparently abandoning the fat and juicy carcass ofthe young bull filled him with alarm and rebellion. Straightway heforgot all thought of play and started back up the slope on a missionthat was 100 per cent. business.
Observing this, Miki gave up his idea of exploration and joined him.They reached the shelf of the dip twenty yards from the carcass of thebull, and from a clutter of big stones looked forth upon their meat. Inthat moment they stood dumb and paralyzed. Two gigantic owls weretearing at the carcass. To Miki and Neewa these were the monsters ofthe black forest out of which they had escaped so narrowly with theirlives. But as a matter of fact they were not of Oohoomisew's breed ofnight-seeing pirates. They were Snowy Owls, unlike all others of theirkind in that their vision was as keen as a hawk's in the light of broadday. Mispoon, the big male, was immaculately white. His mate, a size ortwo smaller, was barred with brownish-slate colour--and their headswere round and terrible looking because they had no ear-tufts. Mispoon,with his splendid wings spread half over the carcass of Ahtik, the deadbull, was rending flesh so ravenously with his powerful beak that Neewaand Miki could hear the sound of it. Newish, his mate, had her headalmost buried in Ahtik's bowels. The sight of them and the sound oftheir eating were enough to disturb the nerves of an older bear thanNeewa, and he crouched behind a stone, with just his head sticking out.
In Miki's throat was a sullen growl. But he held it back, and flattenedhimself on the ground. The blood of the giant hunter that was hisfather rose in him again like fire. The carcass was his meat, and hewas ready to
fight for it. Besides, had he not whipped the big owl inthe forest? But here there were two. The fact held him flattened on hisbelly a moment or two longer, and in that brief space the unexpectedhappened.
Slinking up out of the low growth of bush at the far edge of the diplie saw Maheegun, the renegade she-wolf. Hollow-backed, red-eyed, herbushy tail hanging with the sneaky droop of the murderess, she advancedover the bit of open, a gray and vengeful shadow. Furtive as she was,she at least acted with great swiftness. Straight at Mispoon shelaunched herself with a snarl and snap of fangs that made Miki hug theground still closer.
Deep into Mispoon's four-inch armour of feathers Maheegun buried herfangs. Taken at a disadvantage Mispoon's head would have been torn fromhis body before he could have gathered himself for battle had it notbeen for Newish. Pulling her blood stained head from Ahtik's flesh andblood she drove at Maheegun with a throaty, wheezing scream--a cry thatwas like the cry of no other thing that lived. Into the she-wolf's backshe sank her beak and talons and Maheegun gave up her grip on Mispoonand tore ferociously at her new assailant. For a space Mispoon wassaved, but it was at a terrible sacrifice to Newish. With a singlelucky slash of her long-fanged jaws, Maheegun literally tore one ofNewish's great wings from her body. The croak of agony that came out ofher may have held the death-note for Mispoon, her mate; for he rose onhis wings, poised himself for an instant, and launched himself at theshe-wolf's back with a force that drove Maheegun off her feet.
Deep into her loins the great owl sank his talons, gripping at therenegade's vitals with an avenging and ferocious tenacity. In that holdMaheegun felt the sting of death. She flung herself on her back; sherolled over and over, snarling and snapping and clawing the air in herefforts to free herself of the burning knives that were sinking stilldeeper into her bowels. Mispoon hung on, rolling as she rolled, beatingwith his giant wings, fastening his talons in that clutch that deathcould not shake loose. On the ground his mate was dying. Her life'sblood was pouring out of the hole in her side, but with the dimmingvision of death she made a last effort to help Mispoon. And Mispoon, ahero to the last, kept his grip until he was dead.
Into the edge of the bush Maheegun dragged herself. There she freedherself of the big owl. But the deep wounds were still in her sides.The blood dripped from her belly as she made her way down into thethicker cover, leaving a red trail behind her. A quarter of a mile awayshe lay down under a clump of dwarf spruce; and there, a little later,she died.
To Neewa and Miki--and especially to the son of Hela--the grim combathad widened even more that subtle and growing comprehension of theworld as it existed for them. It was the unforgettable wisdom ofexperience backed by an age-old instinct and the heredity of breed.They had killed small things--Neewa, his bugs and his frogs and hisbumble-bees; Miki, his rabbit--they had fought for their lives; theyhad passed through experiences that, from the beginning, had been agamble with death; but it had needed the climax of a struggle such asthey had seen with their own eyes to open up the doors that gave them anew viewpoint of life.
It was many minutes before Miki went forth and smelled of Newish, thedead owl. He had no desire now to tear at her feathers in theexcitement of an infantile triumph and ferocity. Along with greaterunderstanding a new craft and a new cunning were born in him. The fateof Mispoon and his mate had taught him the priceless value of silenceand of caution, for he knew now that in the world there were manythings that were not afraid of him, and many things that would not runaway from him. He had lost his fearless and blatant contempt for wingedcreatures; he had learned that the earth was not made for him alone,and that to hold his small place on it he must fight as Maheegun andthe owls had fought. This was because in Miki's veins was the redfighting blood of a long line of ancestors that reached back to thewolves.
In Neewa the process of deduction was vastly different. His breed wasnot the fighting breed, except as it fought among its own kind. It didnot make a habit of preying upon other beasts, and no other beastpreyed upon it. This was purely an accident of birth--the fact that noother creature in all his wide domain was powerful enough, either aloneor in groups, to defeat a grown black bear in open battle. ThereforeNeewa learned nothing of fighting in the tragedy of Maheegun and theowls. His profit, if any, was in a greater caution. And his chiefinterest was in the fact that Maheegun and the two owls had notdevoured the young bull. His supper was still safe.
With his little round eyes on the alert for fresh trouble he kepthimself safely hidden while he watched Miki investigating the scene ofbattle. From the body of the owl Miki went to Ahtik, and from Ahtik hesniffed slowly over the trail which Maheegun had taken into the bush.In the edge of the cover he found Mispoon. He did not go farther, butreturned to Neewa, who by this time had made up his mind that he couldsafely come out into the open.
Fifty times that day Miki rushed to the defense of their meat. Thebig-eyed, clucking moose-birds were most annoying. Next to them theCanada jays were most persistent. Twice a little gray-coated ermine,with eyes as red as garnets, came in to get his fill of blood. Miki wasat him so fiercely that he did not return a third time. By noon thecrows had got scent or sight of the carcass and were circling overhead,waiting for Neewa and Miki to disappear. Later, they set up a raucousprotest from the tops of the trees in the edge of the forest.
That night the wolves did not return to the dip. Meat was tooplentiful, and those that were over their gorge were off on a freshkill far to the west. Once or twice Neewa and Miki heard their distantcry.
Again through a star-filled radiant night they watched and listened,and slept at times. In the soft gray dawn they went forth once more totheir feast.
And here is where Makoki, the old Cree runner, would have emphasizedthe presence of the Beneficent Spirit. For day followed day, and nightfollowed night, and Ahtik's flesh and blood put into Neewa and Miki astrength and growth that developed marvellously. By the fourth dayNeewa had become so fat and sleek that he was half again as big as onthe day he fell out of the canoe. Miki had begun to fill out. His ribscould no longer be counted from a distance. His chest was broadeningand his legs were losing some of their angular clumsiness. Practice onAhtik's bones had strengthened his jaws. With his development he feltless and less the old puppyish desire to play--more and more therestlessness of the hunter. The fourth night he heard again the wailinghunt-cry of the wolves, and it held a wild and thrilling note for him.
With Neewa, fat and good humour and contentment were all synonymous. Aslong as the meat held out there was no very great temptation for himbeyond the dip and the slope. Two or three times a day he went down tothe creek; and every morning and afternoon--especially about sunset--hehad his fun rolling downhill. In addition to this he began taking hisafternoon naps in the crotch of a small sapling. As Miki could seeneither sense nor sport in tobogganing, and as he could not climb atree, he began to spend more and more time in venturing up and down thefoot of the ridge. He wanted Neewa to go with him on these expeditions.He never set out until he had entreated Neewa to come down out of histree, or until he had made an effort to coax him away from the singletrail he had made to the creek and back. Neewa's obstinacy would neverhave brought about any real unpleasantness between them. Miki thoughttoo much of him for that; and if it had come to a final test, and Neewahad thought that Miki would not return, he would undoubtedly havefollowed him.
It was another and a more potent thing than an ordinary quarrel thatplaced the first great barrier between them. Now it happened that Mikiwas of the breed which preferred its meat fresh, while Neewa liked his"well hung." And from the fourth day onward, what was left of Ahtik'scarcass was ripening. On the fifth day Miki found the flesh difficultto eat; on the sixth, impossible. To Neewa it became increasinglydelectable as the flavour grew and the perfume thickened. On the sixthday, in sheer delight, he rolled in it. That night, for the first time,Miki could not sleep with him.
The seventh day brought the climax. Ahtik now fairly smelled to heaven.The odour of him drifted up and away on the soft
June wind until allthe crows in the country were gathering. It drove Miki, slinking like awhipped cur, down into the creek bottom. When Neewa came down for adrink after his morning feast Miki sniffed him over for a moment andthen slunk away from him again. As a matter of fact, there was smalldifference between Ahtik and Neewa now, except that one lay still andthe other moved. Both smelled dead; both were decidedly "well hung."Even the crows circled over Neewa, wondering why it was that he walkedabout like a living thing.
That night Miki slept alone under a clump of bush in the creek bottom.He was hungry and lonely, and for the first time in many days he feltthe bigness and emptiness of the world. He wanted Neewa. He whined forhim in the starry silence of the long hours between sunset and dawn.The sun was well up before Neewa came down the hill. He had finishedhis breakfast and his morning roll, and he was worse than ever. AgainMiki tried to coax him away but Neewa was disgustingly fixed in hisdetermination to remain in his present glory. And this morning he wasmore than usually anxious to return to the dip. All of yesterday he hadfound it necessary to frighten the crows away from his meat, and to-daythey were doubly persistent in their efforts to rob him. With a gruntand a squeal to Miki he hustled back up the hill after he had taken hisdrink.
His trail entered the dip through the pile of rocks from which Miki andhe had watched the battle between Maheegun and the two owls, and as amatter of caution he always paused for a few moments among these rocksto make sure that all was well in the open. This morning he received adecided shock. Ahtik's carcass was literally black with crows. Kakakewand his Ethiopic horde of scavengers had descended in a cloud, and theywere tearing and fighting and beating their wings about Ahtik as if allof them had gone mad. Another cloud was hovering in air; every bush andnear-by sapling was bending under the weight of them, and in the suntheir jet-black plumage glistened as if they had just come out of thebath of a tinker's pot. Neewa stood astounded. He was not frightened;he had driven the cowardly robbers away many times. But never had therebeen so many of them. He could see no trace of his meat. Even theground about it was black.
He rushed out from the rocks with his lips drawn back, just as he hadrushed a dozen or more times before. There was a mighty roar of wings.The air was darkened by them, and the ravenish screaming that followedcould have been heard a mile away. This time Kakakew and his mightycrew did not fly back to the forest. Their number gave them courage.The taste of Ahtik's flesh and the flavour of it in their nostrilsintoxicated them, to the point of madness, with desire. Neewa wasdazed. Over him, behind him, on all sides of him they swept andcircled, croaking and screaming at him, the boldest of them swoopingdown to beat at him with their wings. Thicker grew the menacing cloud,and then suddenly it descended like an avalanche. It covered Ahtikagain. In it Neewa was fairly smothered. He felt himself buried under amass of wings and bodies, and he began fighting, as he had fought theowls. A score of pincer-like black beaks fought to get at his hair andhide; others stabbed at his eyes; he felt his ears being pulled fromhis head, and the end of his nose was a bloody cushion within a dozenseconds. The breath was beaten out of him; he was blinded, and dazed,and every square inch of him was aquiver with its own excruciatingpain. He forgot Ahtik. The one thing in the world he wanted most was alarge open space in which to run.
Putting all his strength into the effort he struggled to his feet andcharged through the mass of living things about him. At this sign ofdefeat many of the crows left him to join in the feast. By the time hewas half way to the cover into which Maheegun had gone all but one hadleft him. That one may have been Kakakew himself. He had fastenedhimself like a rat-trap to Neewa's stubby tail, and there he hung onlike grim death while Neewa ran. He kept his hold until his victim waswell into the cover. Then he flopped himself into the air and rejoinedhis brethren at the putrified carcass of the bull.
If ever Neewa had wanted Miki he wanted him now. Again his entireviewpoint of the world was changed. He was stabbed in a hundred places.He burned as if afire. Even the bottoms of his feet hurt him when hestepped on them, and for half an hour he hid himself under a bush,licking his wounds and sniffing the air for Miki.
Then he went down the slope into the creek bottom, and hurried to thefoot of the trail he had made to and from the dip. Vainly he questedabout him for his comrade. He grunted and squealed, and tried to catchthe scent of him in the air. He ran up the creek a distance, and backagain. Ahtik counted as nothing now.
Miki was gone.