Lost in the Barrens Read Online Free PDF Page A

prayed to his gods and meditated. At noon his decision was made.
    He would go on. He would drive north until he found the deer. He would ignore the danger of the Eskimos.
    Denikazi called the two boys before him and explained his plan. He told them in detail of the Eskimo danger. He made it clear that from this moment on he and his men would not have a moment to spare for the boys. He threatened that if they got left behind, they would have to look after themselves.
    But if he thought the boys would be frightened and choose to wait at the south end of Idthen-tua, he was mistaken.
    â€œTell him we’re not afraid of any Eskimos,” Jamie said.
    Awasin translated Jamie’s words while Denikazi listened stolidly. He looked at Jamie and there was a hint of humor in his black eyes.
    â€œA fool you may well be,” he said slowly, “but a bravefool. You may come to the head of Idthen-tua, but no farther. Follow the east shore of the lake. You will not have me to guide you for I wait for no one now.”
    When the boys crawled out from their sleeping robes the next morning they found the camp deserted. Denikazi’s canoes had already vanished in the broad sweep of water to the north.
    They hurried their morning meal and took to the water, anxious to close the gap between themselves and the only other friendly human beings in the waste of rock and moss.
    Hugging the rocky eastern shore, the canoe crawled northward. The boys stared intently at the land about for signs of life, but nothing moved except the birds. Muskeg succeeded muskeg, and Jamie noticed that these expanses of sodden moss appeared to have been cut up into millions of tiny squares and rectangles by dark streaks. It was a mystery, until noon when the boys landed to make tea. Then the mystery explained itself. The muskegs were crisscrossed by countless paths made by the hoofs of the deer. Jamie’s imagination was stunned as he tried to visualize the size of the herds that must have passed this way each year for centuries. Both he and Awasin felt now that come what might they must see with their own eyes those almost legendary hordes of caribou. They hurried back to the canoe and continued north with new energy and enthusiasm. At this very moment the herds might be sweeping down upon the north end of the lake.
    Toward evening the lake began to narrow rapidly untilit was only a few miles across and the land to the west was taking shape. Knowing that they must be near their goal, the boys paddled wearily on until nearly midnight, when a flicker of orange flame against the shadows ahead told them they had reached Denikazi’s camp.
    Jamie was so tired he stumbled out of the canoe. With Awasin he made his way toward the fire.
    The Chipeweyans were grouped morosely about a tiny flame. Denikazi, sitting to one side, had his head in his hands. No one spoke to the two boys.
    They did not need to ask if the deer had come. The atmosphere of gloom and depression in the camp spoke louder than words. The boys said nothing, but returned to their canoe and curled up under it to sleep the dreamless sleep of complete exhaustion.
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    This camp had been pitched at a spot known to the ancient Chipeweyan hunters as the Killing Place. But during the two days which followed there were no deer at the river, and none on the plains about. The skies clouded over and a steady rain beat down. Food was running low. The Indians set a net at the mouth of the Kazon, but the total catch for three days was a single sucker.
    Denikazi remained silent. Once he walked to the crest of a nearby hill, and through a gap in the low clouds Jamie saw him standing there with his arms upraised to the dark sky. But the deer did not come.
    On the third day the skies cleared. Denikazi called the men and the boys about him.

    â€œThere have been great changes in the way of things since I was a youth,” he began slowly, “and it seems that the deer too have changed their ways.