Talking at the Woodpile Read Online Free PDF

creek got its name from the shiny yellow stones that littered the bottom and collected in layers on the exposed banks; they were as numerous as rabbit droppings. People sometimes made fishing weights from the soft metal, which they could heat and bend into shape. It was too soft for arrow tips or knives, so it was of little other use. The duller yellow metal that turned green was better. Copper was found in the White River area, home of the Northern Tutchone, who traded the nuggets for dried salmon and caribou.
    The men walked single file through thick bush to seek the easiest route up the steep-walled valley. Signs of moose were everywhere. Willows and thick shrubs along the creek provided an abundance of food. That night they camped in a clearing next to the stream. It was a perfect site, and the remains of earlier fires and cut brush testified to its popularity. They lit a smudge fire to keep down blackflies while they prepared and ate food. The men took out spears, knotted babiche into moose snares, strung bows and inspected their arrows. They looked forward to the hunt and agreed that Suyuk should lead them.
    â€œI want the most experienced up front. Angunatchiuk, you follow behind Malak at the end.”
    Angunatchiuk’s face burned at the insult, but Yugunvaq caught his eye and signalled with a wave of his hand not to challenge Suyuk’s decision.
    As they left camp, the hunters set moose snares as Suyuk instructed. If the moose moved away from them, Suyuk decided, he would strip naked and run one down. Moose don’t sweat as humans do, and after hours of running, exhausted animals become easy game.
    There were fresh signs of a herd nearby, and mixed among them were fresher signs of a mammoth. In places it had pulled out willows by the roots and scraped the ground with its powerful tusks. The hunters stopped to decide what to do if they encountered the mammoth.
    Suyuk said, “The mammoth is old.”
    He could tell by the marks its tusks left where it dug. The older the mammoth, the closer the tusks grew together at the tips. These tusks touched at the tips. An older mammoth was more likely to present a problem. He advised, “Best to avoid him.” Everyone else agreed.
    The mammoth caught their scent and moved up the valley. It was old and worn from a hundred years of life, but its memory was long, and the arrowhead lodged in its hip was an aggravation.
    The group hiked all morning. Then Suyuk froze in his tracks. Raising his fist, he motioned for the others to stop. Suyuk stood to full height to see ahead into the thick brush. Suddenly he wheeled and ran. The hunters heard a sound like a rock avalanche. The willows parted in front of them, and the enraged mammoth charged out, its trunk held high and a deafening roar coming from deep within its throat. Everyone reacted at once, but it was too late for Malak. The mammoth scooped him up, held him down and stomped once with its foot. The others shouted and cursed as they scrambled out of the way, fitting arrows into bows. They shot into the mammoth’s face, which caused it to charge even more and bellow in pain.
    Yugunvaq dove into the surrounding brush and fired an arrow. As he turned to loose another, he caught a glimpse of Angunatchiuk, who had been last in line. He wasn’t moving out of the way, but had jammed the butt of his spear into the rocky ground. Grasping the shaft close to his body, he crouched low, letting the mammoth bear down on him. Yugunvaq had seen this before; he knew everything would seem perfectly clear to Angunatchiuk. Time would stand still, and he would hear nothing. Yugunvaq watched the spear disappear into the heavy chest of the mammoth. Its shaft shuddered as it sliced through flesh, bone and cartilage before reaching the heart. Angunatchiuk looked toward the hill, and Yugunvaq was sure his son-in-law saw the ancestors beckoning to him. Then he was gone. The beast crashed to the earth, enveloping him. Together