The Porcupine Year

Omakayas woke up to the delicate patting of tiny paws on her face. Quill’s porcupine was curious and hungry, but gentle. He tugged on the end of her nose, as if wondering whether it was permanently attached. His hard, wet little nose burrowed under her hair, along her neck. At last, he stuck his nose in her ear and snuffled. That got results. Omakayas turned over and shrugged him off, careful to avoid his quills. Frowning, she surfaced out of a dream. She had dreamed of her cousin Two Strike Girl. As usual, Two Strike was taunting her. Two Strike held a huge fish she’d caught, a beautiful silver-white fish. The fish turned to Omakayas and cried, “Guess who caught me? Hah, hah, hah! You’ll never be as powerful as Two Strike!”

This was not a dream that Omakayas wanted to continue, anyway. She rolled out of her blanket and laughed when the porcupine tumbled at her feet and groaned softly as it righted itself. In spite of her dream, Omakayas hoped that the elders had decided to travel north toward the vast islanded lake where her cousins lived. No matter how hard it might be to live in the shadow if her strong cousin, Two Strike, she missed them all. Omakayas could almost smell the fish stew her Auntie Muskrat might be cooking. Soon, oh how soon, they would all be together, just the way they had been back in the golden days on the golden island, when she was small.

Today, Deydey had a job for her and Omakayas was relieved to hear it was not tanning hides. He asked her to make his favorite traveling food-venison pounded dry with berries and covered with boiled fat. This food could be carried in hide pouches, over great distances, and it always tasted good when boiled with whatever could be found to add. A deer carcass, which Deydey had brought to the camp the day before, had hung the night in a tree. Now Nokomis helped lower it and they took it out onto the shore.

“Cut it thin,” said Nokomis. The meat would dry on the racks constructed of long birch sticks. Their knives bought from the trader back on Madeline Island, were very sharp, and each tender strip was sliced very thin to dry quickly. As for the berries, Old Tallow and Angeline were collecting more to add to the ones they had gathered. The day was hot, and already the berries from the day before were puckering nicely. If only the little porcupine could leave them alone! Every time Omakayas turned her back, he tried to waddle over to the berries and began delicately but quickly plucking them up and shoving them into his mouth with his black paws. He was like a naughty little boy, but very slow, and always when he turned to look up at her he seemed so sleepy and bewildered that she had to laugh.

“I see that Quill has left his medicine animal to me,” said Omakayas, shooing him off. Sje brought and armful of fresh, sweet willow over and the porcupine dug into it like a little man into a feast. The sun grew hot overhead. Omakayas built a slow fire out of cedar sticks just where the smoke would flavor the meat. Then she retreated into a leafy strip of shade beside the beach.