Dawn Land by Joseph Bruchac

Author:Joseph Bruchac
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Fulcrum Publishing
Published: 2024-08-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER NINETEEN

The Lake Trail

The Day Traveler was in the middle of the sky. Young Hunter looked down into the valley of the beavers. The valley opened like the palm of a hand and the range of mountains to the north lifted up like fingers. It was a good place to stop, to see all that was beautiful below them. He had been running without pause since the first light and he needed to rest. He sat down with a sigh, leaned back, and closed his eyes. Perhaps he slept, for when he opened his eyes again it seemed as if the Day Traveler were farther toward the west and Danowa was sitting there next to him, silently waiting, holding in his jaws a fat rabbit he had killed.

Young Hunter made a small fire and when it had burned down to glowing coals, he placed the whole rabbit in them after removing its insides. It cooked within its own skin and when he raked it out again, the blackened flesh was sweet to taste. He and the three dogs ate it slowly, savoring the quiet peace of the valley. Then they walked down to the pond where Young Hunter swam in the water while the three dogs played and rolled on their backs on the bank.

Young Hunter took a deep breath and let his feet lift so he was floating. He looked up and saw two hawks circling above. Their tails were spread wide and held the red of the sun. They circled, crossing each other’s paths, dancing with the sky. Young Hunter’s own arms were spread wide like their wings and he whistled up to them, whistled the long greeting whistle of the sun-tailed hawk. The two big birds circled lower until they were close indeed. They cocked their heads, each of them in turn, to look at Young Hunter. Then they flapped their wings and lifted again, rising higher until they disappeared in the westward-verging light of the Day Traveler.

Young Hunter drifted close to the edge of the pond where a beaver had been working on a small birch. He reached up and broke free a piece of the tree’s red inner bark and placed it in his mouth. The taste was good and he chewed it, thinking of how good a tea this bark would make. He could see bushes covered with ripe blackberries in the meadow above the beaver dam and he climbed out of the water. Soon his hands were stained red by the sweet fruit and he had eaten his fill. He heard a sound behind him and turned to look. There, less than a spear cast away, was a very fat black bear, stripping mouthfuls of berries from the bushes and grunting with pleasure. It had plainly come out of the woods from the eastern side of the pond, downwind from the dogs sprawled and dozing near the water—and too intent upon a feast of berries even to have smelled the dogs. The bear turned to look at Young Hunter just as he turned to look at it.

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