Niwáčhiŋ | Teen Ink

Niwáčhiŋ

November 4, 2014
By AntonioRosales, Lovettsville, Virginia
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AntonioRosales, Lovettsville, Virginia
0 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
“Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover." -Mark Twain


Author's note:

 
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It was a cold day indeed.  The wind blew fiercely upon the cold white desert which lay before the man.  There was little terrain to take shelter from such a hostile foe, but the man, Matthew, refused to let this trouble him.  Matthew looked up from his boots and stared at the blazing fire before him, which was warming the rest of his company.  They all were huddled close together, faces aglow from the fire’s dancing light.  Except for the boy.  He laid on his stomach on a thick mat a small distance away from the group, but still close enough to gather warmth.  The boy always puzzled Matthew.  He had his weird way of doing things, maybe it was his heritage.  He came from a Sioux tribe in Dakota, at least that’s what the old man had said, who knew what strange traditions governed his life.

Looking to past the boy, he saw his daughter, Amanda, whose golden hair and bright blue eyes shone with such excitement and enthusiasm that it gave Matthew strength just by looking at them.  Next to her was his wife Lucy, who was so bundled in garments that not even an inch of her body was visible, save the bridge of her nose and her eyes.  Beside the women were two hefty Canadian huntsmen with large rifles and clothed in thick furs.  The huntsmen were escorting the group on their journey in exchange for work at the mine Matthew’s father owned.  Lastly, there was the old man who sat on the opposite of the fire.  He said he came from Michigan, and hoped to find fortune in the North.  He had brought the boy with him, he claimed he needed “a strong back to carry out some of the hard labor.”

Matthew strode over to his lovely wife and daughter.  Though he grew warm as he approached the fire, he felt a comforting heat which seemed to emit from his family.  Their warm smiles could almost melt the frost off his beard.  He sat in between them and lowered the wood he had been carrying in front of him.  Leaning to his left he drew back the cloth covering Lucy’s face and kissed her.  He then patted his daughter’s head while she wrapped her arms around him affectionately.

“The old kook says there’s a bad storm coming, Pa,” said Amanda, “Is it true?”

“Hush now, “ said Matthew, “There ain’t nothing to worry about.”

Lucy grunted in agreement and drew her blankets closer.

The two hunters glanced up at the heavens with slightly concerned expressions.  The spoke in rapid French.  Amanda knew some, her aunt had taught her some basics, expressing the importance of a proper young lady to know such an elegant tongue.  He recognized some of the words, namely the important ones.  She felt an ominous presence after hearing the phrase ‘lots of snow’.  She knew that the nearest lodge was only five miles away.  If only Pa would listen to her and get moving.

She noticed that the boy had gotten up and began rolling up his mat.  His possessions were few, and he rounded them up quickly.  When they were all strapped together, he stood up and began walking away from the fire.  The old man got up and quickly hobbled over to him.  He grabbed the boy’s shoulders and hissed several words in his hear.  Amanda was startled when she saw the boy whip around and yell at the man.  Though she knew not what language he was speaking, she noted that the boy’s tone was that of annoyance and haste. 

“We should continue our journey,” said one of the hunters suddenly. 

Amanda turned and saw that he was looking at the boy and the old man.  He looked slightly worried and acted very anxious to leave.  Getting up excitedly, Amanda turned to her father, who looked slightly annoyed.  She knew that he longed to gaze into the vast wilderness and was eager to take in as much as he could, but even he couldn’t go against the expertise of the hunters.  He hefted his pack and wrapped one arm around his wife, helping her to her feet.  She had a terrible resistance to the cold and clearly dreaded the idea of walking five miles.

“Amanda,” she said gently, “Can you carry some of my things for a while?”

Amanda quickly took up her mother’s burden.  Though she was slightly bothered by having to carry more weight, Amanda could not refuse such a gentle voice nor could she disobey such a pitiful looking person.  She knew that her mother was born into a wealthy family and wasn’t well adapted to such harsh environments and endeavors, thus she felt motivated to aid her as much as her strength would allow.

The old man returned to the side of the fire and began extinguishing it.  Amanda pulled on her snowshoes and bundled herself tightly before departing.  The group then began marching towards the forest which lay several hundred feet away.  Amanda and her parents walked slowly behind the old man, who followed the two hunters, who were attempting to keep up with the boy.  Amanda couldn’t help but notice the boy’s stride, which held an air of confidence and determination.  His goal was clear, and his head seldom moved from his destination.  Amanda’s attention was deviated when the wind began to blow harder, almost enough to knock her over if she wasn’t paying heed to her footing.  She concluded that she missed the fire, but stronger was the desire for the comfortable shelter which lay five miles away from them.  The worst thing about the journey, in her opinion, was how close such safety lay.  It was just out of reach, almost like it was teasing her.

The party had reached the edge of the forest when the snow had began to fall.  Amanda stuck close to her father, who had been attempting to catch up with the hunters, a while trying to keep his wife from falling behind.

“Hey!” he yelled to the group, “Wait!  My wife feels ill!”

The hunters stopped and walked over to the family.  Amanda watched them examine her mother and compliment her strength.  They continued to explain that they had only just entered the forest, and needed her to be strong for another hour or so.

“It will be fine,” said one of the hunters.

“Oui," confirmed the other, “We will take care not to let you fall prey to such a bitter land.”

The old man and the boy had also stopped and were looking at them.  The old man gazed upon them with sympathy.  He took a pair of gloves from his pack and began approaching Amanda’s mother.  The boy behind him looked at the group with something close to disdain.  He furrowed his brows with annoyment, and Amanda was sure that if he wasn’t wearing a muffler, he would have behold a look of angry puzzlement on his face.

Once the group had finished, they resumed their journey.  This time they moved together as a group.  Amanda felt safer and could tell her mother was more comfortable with this new method of traversing the wilderness.  The boy, who was walking a few feet ahead of the group, glanced back and snorted with amused approval.  To him a group which moved together resembled a pack of wolves.  Together they could overcome any obstacle, be it snow or large prey.  Amanda watched the boy trudge until he began to exit the Amanda’s field of vision.  The snow was falling harder than ever before, and the cold wind constantly blew small crystals of ice into her face.  The branches of the trees above them would sometimes buckle under the weight of such snow, causing a little avalanche which threatened to crush an unsuspecting person.  Pioneering further into the forest, Amanda grew increasingly weary as the ground began to trail upward.

“Ma,” protested Amanda, “Tell Pa to let us stop.”

Lucy was at her husband’s ear in an instant, “Darling let us have some respite,” she said in her gentle soothing voice, “You know we are not as hardy nor strong as you.”

“Aye, I know,” responded Matthew.

“Pa, let’s make another fire,” suggested Amanda.

The hunters turned around, as they heard their conversation and had thought it wise to rid themselves of their burdens for a short while.  The old man, however, was more focused on his own dilemma.  For the boy had disappeared entirely.  He walked off in search of his young companion, hoping that he would appear soon, for the storm had begun to worsen.

The two hunters pulled from their packs, some dry wood and some kindling.  One them had brought matches, which, to the delight of Amanda, would quickly produce flame for them all.  The hunter struck the match, but the wind blew out the little flame as soon as it was created.

“Ah,” said the hunter, “Jacques, give me some cover from the wind will you?”

The other hunter stood as a barrier against the cruel agent of the North and allowed his friend to light some of the wood.  However, nature is stubborn when denied its desires.  Another gust of wind rushed upon the forest, causing snow from the ground to fly up with such force, that both hunters were knocked over and the wood was immediately buried.

“Damn,” muttered Jacques.

Then there was a scream so abrupt and full of terror that Amanda leaped to her father’s side with a small cry.  They all suddenly remembered that the old man and the boy had disappeared.  The huntsman dashed off in the direction from which the scream came.  Amanda’s father ran to try and catch up, leaving her with Jacques and her mother by the deceased firepit.  She could not pull her gaze away from her father’s figure, which was rapidly fading into the forest.  Even after she could no longer see him, Amanda stared blankly into the wild.  Eventually she turned her head to see what the hunter was doing.  She saw her mother lying on the ground, and the huntsman shaking her frantically.

“Madame, you must wake up,” he said sternly, “Madame if you rest now you may never rest again!”

“Ma!” Amanda gasped.  Running over to her limp body

The snow was falling harder than ever before.  Matthew and the huntsman scanned the woods for any sign of the old man.  Eventually they came across a small hat, which they recognized as the old man’s, but the fellow was nowhere to be seen.  Looking around, Matthew tried to make sense of the evidence before him.

“Do not worry,” assured the hunter, “I have tracked down both man and beast.  I will find him.”

But Matthew had already figured out what had happened.  He knelt by the large pile of snow which lay beside the hat and began digging.

“What are you-” began the huntsman, but he was cut short by Matthew’s gasp and the sight before him.  A lifeless arm was protruding from the pile.  The arm, without a doubt, belonged to the old man.

“Repose en paix,” whispered the huntsman.

Matthew nodded.  He heard footsteps behind him and he turned.  There stood the boy, looking down at the corpse of his former companion.  Approaching the body, he knelt at the base of the snow pile.

“Crushed,” he muttered.

Matthew and the hunter looked at each other.  Matthew looked once more at the body, pitying the poor man.  Had he stayed with the group, he would have been able to escape the cold prison which became his grave.

 

Amanda dashed towards her father and leapt into his arms.  Jacques trailed behind her, attempting to keep pace with the terrified child.  Amanda was crying violently.

“Pa!” she screamed, “We need to go back right now!  Ma’s in trouble!”

Jacques and the huntsman exchanged several words in French.  Jacques then turned to Amanda’s father.

“We had to leave her behind,” he said solemnly, “She had fallen to the ground and wouldn’t wake.  She was colder than the snow around her.  The girl refuses to believe she is gone.”

Amanda saw her father’s eyes glaze over with sorrow and shock.  He stood silently, then grabbed Amanda by the shoulders and gazed at her with a look of wild passion.

“Follow the huntsmen.  Never leave their side and listen to what they say.  I’m going back to get your mother.  I’ll see you soon,”  and then he dashed off towards the direction from which the group came.

“What Monsieur!” protested Jacques, “The storm is worsening and you’ll surely be lost!”

“I’m already lost!” yelled Amanda’s father, “I’m lost without her!”

Amanda stood still, her gaze locked on where she saw her father last.  The huntsmen began to make themselves comfortable, but then the boy began to walk away.

“Where are you going?” asked Jacques, “We need to wait for them.”

The boy stopped and then turned to look at Jacques.  Amanda, who had ceased her sobs, also fell under his line of sight.  She saw those eyes.  Those eyes, which were dark and hostile, sent a shiver down her spine.  She had never seen nor endured such a beastly gaze.  It had the coldness of a serpent, but all the fury and fire of a wolf.  It was a look which made God himself want to look away.

“Niwáčhiŋ?” he asked.  His exotic voice had such a harshness to it, that Jacques felt as though he was a child being scolded, “You survive?”

“Yes we survive,” the huntsman responded, “My friend and I are the best huntsmen in the Yukon.  We fear neither man, nor beast, nor nature itsel-”

“Fear them,” interrupted the boy, “You no survive.”

He then turned around quickly and walked away from the group.

“Wait!” Amanda yelled as she began to pursue the boy.  She chased after him, hoping that he would not leave.  Despite his cold nature, he gave off an air of security, a feeling of protection.  The huntsmen eventually caught up to her and joined her in following the boy.  The three asked no questions, they simply trailed the boy as he went deeper into the forest.  Amanda found herself walking further uphill, against the barrage of snow and hail which furiously beat against herself and her companions.  Eventually, after following a trail of fading footprints, she and the huntsmen reached a small cave where they found the boy already laying down on some furs.  His eyes opened, flicking between the three.

Amanda fell to the ground, exhausted.  The two huntsmen proceeded to make a fire in the cave.  They still possesses some dry wood and matches, and the flame was ignited in no time at all.

Amanda huddled in a corner, rocking slowly.  Wishing, waiting for something fortunate to happen.  She strained her ears, listening for any sign of her parents.  She heard nothing but howling.  Whether it was wind or wolves she could not tell.  She noted that the boy was once again asleep on his furs.  He lay there so calmly, it was disturbing.

She knew not the number of hours which passed, but she refused to sleep for she needed to hear the voices of her parents, some call for help or any other indication that they were alive.  Then there was a loud howl from outside the cave.  Rachel jumped towards the two hunters, who had snatched their rifles.

“Sounds like a wolf,” said Jacques, “Let’s go take care of it before its pack arrives."

The boy opened his eyes curiously, but stayed silent.

“Oh no don’t go,” said Amanda.

“Hush now,” said the other huntsman with a laugh, “We have dealt with beasts far more intimidating and dangerous.  Besides, how could we back down from the challenge of one of nature’s mightiest knights.”

“Oui,” chuckled Jacques, “To think that we would back down from a mere hound after all we’ve accomplished.  Mon frère, let us hunt some game.”

And with that they left.  The boy jumped to his feet at their leave and grabbed one of the walking sticks the hunters brought with them.  He took out a large knife and then split the stick near the tip and tied the blade tightly in the split.  Next he took some alcohol from one of the hunters packs and poured it onto the blade and the tip of the shaft.  He sat near the fire, waiting.

Amanda heard the barking and growling of canines, and then several shots were fired.  A deathly silence followed, leaving her anxious about the fate of the huntsmen.  There was a scream which made her jump and then scuffling outside the cave.  Then she watched in horror as Jacques fell into the light of the fire.  His face was covered in blood and his eyes were wide with fear.  He was also sobbing uncontrollably.  Amanda had never seen such a sorrowful sight.  She remembered his confidence, his optimism.  All was lost in this moment of terror and despair.  He was suddenly jerked back into the night by a sudden force.  He screamed for help, clawing at the cold ground of the cave floor, but his cries were suddenly silenced once he was dragged into the darkness.  Amanda saw a glint of two glowing eyes outside the cave.  The boy crouched, ready to spring at his newfound foe.  Then more eyes appeared outside the cave.  A paw and the tip of a snout entered the light, followed by the majestic head of a gray wolf, which was snarling with hostility.  The boy swung the tip of the spear into the fire, lighting it in an instant due to the alcohol.  Swinging the blazing weapon he growled and snarled with such ferocity, that it became hard for Amanda to distinguish which creature was animal and which was man.

The wolf backed away slowly, but its pack was eager to feast on the flesh of man.  More heads entered the cave.  Amanda was paralyzed by her fear while she watched with a mixture of awe and terror as the boy leapt forward at his enemies, swinging his weapon wildly.  He cut many of the beasts and began to give them reason to fear him.  He no longer shouted loudly, but stared them down with the intensity of an inferno.  The fire in his eyes was no longer a reflection of the one which flickered in the center of the cave, but that of his own wildness and rage.  The wolves yelped and ran away like men would run from a monster.

Amanda could not take her eyes off the boy.  His posture, that of animal-like majesty, held her attention.  He then walked over to her and knelt at her side.

“They go now,” he said sternly, “We leave when sun rises.”

Amanda nodded, acknowledging his words as commands.  With that she lay silently on the floor of the cave.  She felt afraid to fall asleep, but fatigue made her shut her eyes and drift into a deep slumber.

Amanda opened her eyes suddenly, clutching her clothes tightly, for she dreamt of a wolf closing its jaws around her neck, and woke from fright.  She noticed that the boy was watching her with a curious look.  His muffler was removed, showing his face to be strongly sculpted with a long scar going over his left cheek.

“Good.  Now we leave,” he said bluntly.

Amanda was silent and got up to depart.  She didn’t even bother with eating any provisions, her only desire was to reach the lodge.  She looked down at her feet and realized she was already walking.  The movement felt automatic, for her mind was occupied with the events of last night.

She reached the outside of the cave and saw that the boy was already marching up away.  She stumbled over to him and attempted to keep pace.  She knew that he would leave her behind if she fell back.  They continued for what seemed like eternity.  Amanda’s sight had begun to blur from sheer exhaustion.  But she regained her strength when she saw the that the forest began to fade away.  The number of trees every few feet decreased and soon she found herself at the edge of the forest.  Looking ahead, she saw a rickety old bridge which crossed a small ravine.  The ropes were slightly frayed and the wood looked rotten.  The boy continued forward with a confident stride.  She grabbed his hand to try and stop him.

“Wait!” she exclaimed.

The boy whipped around so quickly that Amanda was sent to the ground.  Looking up at the boy, she saw that she had something inhuman.  His muffler hid his mouth, but Amanda was sure he was gnashing his teeth underneath.  Quickly retracting the look, the boy pointed at the bridge.

“We cross,” he commanded and then continued forward.

Amanda followed silently, and attempted to see beyond the bridge, but the snow was falling hard and she could see nothing but white.

When Amanda stepped onto the bridge, she placed her feet so lightly  she may as well have been walking past a sleeping bear.  She continued this cautious method until she reached the center of the bridge.  When she had met the center, she saw a distant light.  She knew it was the lodge.  Her heart raced quickly and her steps became quick and hasty.  When she placed her foot down, she suddenly found that there was no floor to stop it.  She fell through the gap, snatching wildly at the air.  Her hands caught the ropes and she struggled to pull herself up.

The boy turned quickly and shouted, “No!” but it was too late.  The bridge had endured too much stress, and the ropes snapped.  The boy grabbed a rope with one hand and a board with the other.  Amanda screamed as they swung towards the cliff.

The force of impact nearly knocked Amanda off the dangling bridge.  Looking up, she realized that the boy had already begun to climb.  Moving quickly, Amanda scaled the wall of rotten wood and rope.  There was a loud snap as one of the ropes gave in to the stress of the two climbers.  Amanda clutched the other rope tightly and began to climb with strength of a distressed animal.  She made good progress, reaching the boy and sticking close under him.  She then felt the rope crackle with pain and she knew they only had a few seconds to reach the top. 

The boy looked down at her, and Amanda realized what was about to happen.  She took a deep breath and returned his gaze.

“ Niwáčhiŋ,” she said softly.

The boy nodded quickly, and with one swipe of his knife he cut the rope beneath her.  Amanda fell, arms and legs spread out.  She saw the boy’s figure fade fast as she descended into the ravine.  All she could see was white, pure white.  The wind rushed through her hair and she found herself crying.  She closed her eyes and succumbed to the comfort of the darkness.  She never even felt herself hitting the ground.

The boy stood up, looking down at the ravine.  The girl had realized what had to be done and accepted it.  A normal man would have begged and screamed for mercy, but this little girl didn’t.  He grunted his approval and walked away.  It was a shame, she could have become like him.  But he knew he lived in a world where what could have been didn’t matter.  He would just move on, surviving in this brutal world.  His thoughts concluded, the boy vanished into the endless white.



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