The 53rd Parallel Read online

  The next day Joe Loon motored his canoe to a bay in the River where a shoreline clearing was home to two wigwams and a tent. Two Ojibway women and a man appeared at the shore to offer greetings. Joe Loon asked them to come pow wow and listen to the Big White Man, for he must be a white man from Joe Loon's dream and they needed to discover which one.

  Brian and Maureen visited both solicitors; the first talked about how he would handle the formation of a partnership to buy Crown land and build a fishing camp. It was the second solicitor, the one who had most impressed Maureen, who delivered the disappointing news.

  “I've spent some of my own time looking into this for you, and I'm afraid the other gentleman is giving you false hope with his ideas of a schedule. What I have found out is that your acquisition of land in that sector won't be processed this year. It's not likely anyway. I've dealt with these Ministry officials many times before. Sure, they say they want to help create jobs back in the bush for the Indians. But by the time they get their surveyors in there, and then each department signs off, and there's groups within each department that will want to review it, it's going to take some time. And you're both foreigners so that will take additional paperwork. I would be leading you astray if I didn't tell you we could be well into winter before you have a clear title, and even then you're likely going to have to settle for a long-term land lease.”

  Albert Loon sat in Nigig in the middle of one of the River's lakes, holding onto the gunwales of the small motor boat that rocked gently next to him. The young Ojibway man at the motor held Nigig steady and listened as Albert told the Ojibway elder in the bow about the Big White Man's dream and where he wanted to build cabins. The elder looked away and shook his head no, the single feather tied in his hair waving back and forth.

  In the chapel of a small seminary school in the West of Ireland, Eamon and his wife sat in a pew with Patrick and Katie between them. They were surrounded by the parents of the teenagers and nearly twenty-year-old boys Tommy sat with in the front pew. Tommy waited his turn to deliver a homily on The Seven Christian Virtues he had been working on for nearly a month.

  On a commercial side street in Dublin two men approached a music shop and entered. Kevin was in the middle of giving the long-abandoned shop a good cleaning before he would display new merchandise. “Back in business I see,” one of the men said as Kevin joined them in his back room. The visitors told him some of the old guard had started meeting regularly, and they were talking about becoming fully active. Then they asked if he had heard rumors about Maureen O'Toole living in Boston with her contact from Germany with a bag full of the Nazis' gold.

  Many of the Keewatin Ojibway who planned to meet with Brian arrived at Joe Loon's village the day before the pow wow. The village grew as they erected tents and temporary wigwams, bending saplings into small round house frames they covered with reed mats, blankets, or fir boughs. Albert applied fresh paint to the buckskin draped over the wall of his wigwam. The Loon clan totems he refreshed were first painted long ago.

  That evening the men sat in a circle around Joe Loon's fire. Many wore their heads dressed with feathers, bits of tail, or red-cloth turbans. Some bore chest plates of quill and bead or necklaces over buckskin vests.

  Two drums pounded the same heartbeat. Two men shook rattles of dried hide and pebbles. As they changed to a new song cycle, one man carefully placed a bundle on the ground in front of him and unfolded the covering to remove a pipe carved from a deer's antler.

  This Man stood up from the circle and began to dance All Four Directions of The Great Creator.

  Before Dutch flew Brian and Maureen back to the sandy shore for their meeting, he showed them there were now six life vests in stowage. When they were airborne and well on their way, he apologized again.

  “That flight back was the most danger I've ever put anyone in. I am so sorry.”

  “Don't know it was anyone's fault we were in danger, an' if God assisted, it was still your skill made us safe.”

  “I'm haunted by the whole series of mistakes I made. I should check for life jackets each time I leave with guests. I should have gotten us out of there sooner. And I certainly should have landed us sooner. Or maybe I should never have taken off in the first place. I feel like I owe you something.”

  Maureen smiled when she heard that.

  When the plane passed overhead, more than a dozen canoes and boats had been pulled up on the beach and thirty or more Ojibway were waiting to hear Big White Man's dream. It was mostly Keewatin men who gathered with the older boys, but there were also a few of the older women and the young girls they had brought with them. There were also two boats of White Dog Ojibway, and three boats from Grassy Narrows, and two Metís who had been traveling through when they learned of the pow wow and stayed.

  Another canoe was arriving with two more Keewatin men from the back bush as the plane taxied into the cove.

  At breakfast the day before, Maureen mentioned this gathering to the hotel diner waitress who had befriended her. She advised Maureen that it was a sign of respect to bring tobacco to any gathering or ceremony with Ojibway to give to the elders. “Most folks around Kenora don't care enough about them to know much about these sorts of things. You're lucky we met.” Maureen gave her a nice tip and loaded two cartons of cigarettes and a half dozen containers of snuff into the map case. As they were leaving the plane, she gave the tobacco to Brian and he approached Albert.

  “If you would show me how to share these gifts of tobacco, you would be doin' me a great favor.”

  “You must start with the chief elder.”

  “Joe Loon?”

  “No, he is the elder of his clan. It is Gegiwejiwebiniing who is chief elder of all the Keewatin people.”

  “Who are the Keewatin people?”

  “Everyone knows we are the People who live in on the River in these forests.”

  Albert told Brian that the snuff was the preferred gift and led him to the chief elder, the man who three days earlier shook his head no when Albert met him out on the water. Next they honored Joe Loon, then the rest of the elders, then he showed Brian who he should approach next until the last cigarettes were gone.

  As they settled into a large circle where a flat grassy ledge split the beach from the edge of the forest, Albert introduced Young George Fobister to Brian as the best interpreter. Brian sat next to Young George.

  The women formed in a small cluster near the men's circle, and Maureen found a place near the women but close behind Brian. The drums pounded, rattles shook, and the men chanted songs.

  Young George leaned close to Brian and Brian to him so they could speak softly, respectfully. “There are many spirits we honor when we pow wow. We ask them to be present here now before we begin and we wait until all have gathered. They will bring wisdom to guide us.”

  After the song cycle was repeated Joe Loon was ready to speak. Young George translated his words for Brian.

  “He calls you Big White Man From an Island Far Away Who Has Visited this Sacred Place in His Big Dreams. He is telling them you and Raven Hair Woman traveled from an island far away to tell us about this Big Dream. He is asking us to listen for what this Big Dream will tell our people about who you are.”

  Young George did not translate all of what Joe Loon said, however. When Joe Loon spoke of his own dreams, of the white man coming to destroy the River and of the white man coming to save the River, Young George knew this was not for the ears of the strangers. So Brian wasn't told that Joe Loon also said, “I know this Big Man Who Dreams of this Sacred Place is a white man from my Dreams. It was the spirits of our ancestors who died here who told me he was coming. I was standing here when I was told he was coming in my Dreams. This is where I saw him. This is why I am certain. His Big Dreams bring him to this place. This is why I am certain. I pray they are here to help us for I can see this Big Man and his Raven Hair Woman are strong and they are clever and they would be good friends. But I do not know if he is the white man who has come
to help us. This we need to find out.”

  The song cycle was repeated, and the chief elder nodded to Young George.

  “It is your time to speak,” he said to Brian.

  Brian looked around the circle and then found Maureen and smiled to see her. She nodded at his smile.

  “I thank the men who traveled here today to hear my dreams about this place, this cove, this lake that is your home. The place I come from is a lovely island that lies far across a great ocean of water. On that island I am a fisherman. I do not trap or hunt, but like you I fish the waters there for my livelihood.

  “An' even though my island is far far across the ocean I have heard that the Keewatin Ojibway are the best hunters an' the best fisherman in all the world. I have read this in magazines…” Brian wished he hadn't burned those magazine pages the night he burned his plans. “… an' I tell you that you are in my dreams, that when I dream of this place you are here. An' because you are the best hunters an' the best fishermen I want to make my dreams help you and all your people.”

  Brian waited as Young George translated and wondered if his full meaning was conveyed for the men did not seem impressed with his compliment; the response was little more than one man leaning to whisper with the man next to him.

  As Brian told the men his dreams and Young George translated, Maureen watched for any reaction, but there was little show of emotion.

  “Next spring, when the ice melts away, we will arrive to live here an' build the first of many cabins. We will pay five dollars each day to every man who helps us build our cabins. We ask the men who work for us buildin' these cabins to bring your families here with you while we are workin' if this would please you. We will provide all the men who work for us with good food for them an' for their families, an' you can build your wigwams here or we will give you tents for shelter.”

  When Young George translated Brian's plans to build cabins on this cove, Maureen heard low moans and groans from the women's circle. She wondered if Brian heard it.

  “The year after that, the next summer, we will hire our first fishin' guides an' pay 'em ten dollars a day when they guide. In five years we will have many more cabins so many more Americans will come to fish here. Every man sittin' here with us today will be able to work as a guide if this is what he would like to do. An' we will have many jobs here for your womenfolk as well.”

  Brian had not heard the women and was growing more confused that there was still so little reaction. He looked at Joe Loon who turned to the chief elder sitting next to him. An eagle feather and a red-tailed hawk feather were tied in his hair. His magic hung around his neck in a small beaded pouch. This Man sat just outside the circle at the right side of the chief.

  Young George translated the chief's question for Brian.

  “He asks of you to tell us what you know of this place.”

  Brian hesitated a moment, not sure what was being asked. “We will follow Ontario's laws for purchasin' the land, but we will always follow Ojibway customs of carin' for it.”

  Young George translated Brian's answer and the chief's response.

  “He did not ask you this. He says the Keewatin clans know the white man will say one thing and then what they do is very different. No, he asks what is it that you know of this place.”

  “That it has been in my dreams for years. An' now that I see it, it is even more lovely than I dreamed. I plan to get to know it very well over the next thirty or forty years, livin' here with your people, learnin' from your people.”

  Again, Young George translated both ways.

  “You must know what happened here during the days of our ancestors. He will tell you.”

  “Yes, please tell me.”

  “This was the time his Grandfather was a boy. That was when the white man came to Keewatin Mountain. You must travel two days north to arrive at Keewatin Mountain. The white man came to take the gold from the mountain. They say they discovered this gold so they could take it. His grandfather was called Wenjimaadob. They told Wenjimaadob to bring his brothers and the other men of his village to work for them in the gold mines. They would pay them with important coins and with gifts. This was during the time all of the People still lived on the River and in the forests. The men from Wenjimaadob's village and from other villages came to work in the gold mines for the white man for his important coins. The white man fed them good food. The white man gave them many gifts of friendship. The Hudson Bay would take the important coins for the best goods.

  “Then the first winter came. Before the people left for their winter camps, the white man gave the people many blankets. The white man gave them as gifts. When the people slept under these blankets, many of them got the white man pox. Their skin began to boil and make many sores. Soon many of the people who lived near Keewatin Mountain began to die. The old women died. The babies who were not yet named died. Even the strongest men were dying of the white man pox from the blankets.”

  Maureen saw the oldest women, eyes closed, shaking their heads slowly, and heard their soft moans.

  “A Nokomis named Weegibance was holding her dying daughter in her arms. Her daughter was holding her dying child in her arms. That was when Weegibance had a vision that if they did not defeat the white man pox, all of the People would die. In her vision she saw that only fire would defeat the white man pox. That is why she told everyone who had the white man pox to come with her to this place where we sit. She told them the only way to save our People was for them to gather their dead family members and all of the People who had the pox. They got in their canoes and they paddled for two days until they came to this place. It took many canoes to hold all the dead and dying. Even more canoes than are on the shore today. Nokomis told the People to build four large funeral fires here to burn the bodies of the dead. After all the dead were burned, the others who had the pox knew they must walk into the fire so the flames would devour them and that would end this terrible curse. The old Nokomis, Weegibance, burned herself last, after all the others. This was what they did to save our People.”

  Some of the old women began to rock and cry.

  “The ash from the fires covered the beach. These birch trees were watered by the tears Nokomis cried as she watched so many of her People throw themselves into the fire. She heard their screams. She watched every one of the People burn. She knew soon she would be lying in those flames.”

  Brian heard Maureen whisper, “Good God, we can't…” but the rest of it was lost as a song cycle began, and the people chanted their grief, for everyone gathered had ancestors whose ashes had mixed with this earth and whose spirits were there now.

  Before the song cycled again, Joe Loon gestured to show that he wanted to speak. The people were ready to hear his words.

  “Since that day Weegibance stepped into the fire and saved our People, we have kept this place sacred. To honor the deaths of our ancestors, we have kept this place sacred. We have kept this grove of birch trees sacred to honor the tears Nokomis shed for all those who died from the white man's pox.

  “What I ask you now is this. Do you see that a new time is coming? A time for us to honor the way our ancestors lived in these forests. Not just how they died.”

  Joe Loon paused so the men might ask each other, answer each other, and begin to frame a communal understanding of what Joe Loon asked of them. Brian waited for Young George to tell him what Joe Loon said, but instead Young George spoke the forest language with the man sitting on his other side. Then Joe Loon showed he was ready to speak again.

  “A good death honors a good life.”

  He paused so all his people could remember loved ones whose deaths had been good.

  “When dying has pain so big that our songs and dances do not change it, that is a sorrow for the People. The People who laid themselves down in the fires here lived good lives before they died. When the terrible fever came upon them, their bodies burned for many days before they laid themselves down in the fires. Their suffering filled these forests. Bu
t before that they lived good lives. Before the white man's blankets brought them such painful death they lived true lives.”

  Again he paused, and Brian was growing anxious.

  “I will not forget the sadness of Nokomis dying in these fires, but it is time to remember the courage she had when she was alive.”

  The old women had stopped their mourning sounds to listen carefully to what Joe Loon was saying. Maureen was growing anxious.

  “It is a good thing that this man I will call Big Brian has brought his Big Dreams to this sacred place. Big Brian comes here to build cabins for the White Man who Love to Fish. I see that it will be good for the Keewatin clans to live with the White Man who Love to Fish at this sacred place. When they come to fish the River a good thing will happen. The spirits of our ancestors will be here whispering to them that they must protect the River from the white man who comes to destroy it. I believe this is what will happen when the White Man who Love to Fish lives with us on this sacred place and fishes the River with us. They will see the River and know it must be protected from those who will come to poison it. I say to you that Big Brian is the white man who has been sent by the Great Creator to help us protect the River. I say to you we must help him build his Dream right here.”

  Brian ached to learn what Joe Loon said. He felt it was for him and that the others were beginning to agree. This Man had been sitting, but now he stood behind Joe Loon.

  “I hope Big Brian will give us a new name for this place. His Dream tells of a good memory for those who died here.”

  The people gathered there that day agreed with Joe Loon's wisdom. And when Brian and Maureen learned they had the support of the Keewatin Ojibway they excused themselves from the group and stepped away to be alone for a moment.

  Maureen wanted them to embrace, but only took Brian by the arm. “It's the power of the right dream comin' true.”