Read Online Our Story: Aboriginal Voices on Canada's Past by Tantoo Cardinal - Free Book Online

brought the Siaraili among you. You will all perish if you continue to have Angula as leader. This I know by Hidden knowledge. If you doubt, simply look at the dogsledder’s necklace to see that his people have power to match that of the Siaraili.”
    But they don’t
, Kannujaq thought.
I don’t
. It made Kannujaq wonder if it was really the helper or Siku doing the talking here.
    One way or another, the helper did not finish the message. There was a roar, and Angula rushed forward, knocking the boy down.
    All the onlookers, including Kannujaq, stood paralyzed with shock. It was not that Angula had attacked an
angakoq
. It was not even that he had attacked a boy. It was that he had done it
openly
, in front of everyone. Open violence was forbidden.
    Mad…
thought Kannujaq.
He’s mad …
    The mysterious, non-Tunit woman was by Siku’s side in an instant, but the young
angakoq
was already up again. His gaze was fixed upon Angula. Kannujaq had never seen such sheer murder in a boy’s eyes before.
    Angula was panting, more with stress than with exertion, and he quickly whirled about, pointing at Kannujaq.
    â€œThis is exactly what I was afraid of!” he bellowed. “Look what you made me do! You are obviously a powerful
angakoq
, manipulating us all!”
    But his eyes shifted about furtively, uncertain.
    â€œI will forgive Siku!” Angula huffed. “He is merely under your control! But you will leave now! Try to stay, and you die!”
    Angula glanced at his cronies, but they looked uncertain.
    â€œNo one,” Angula yelled at the onlookers, “is to follow this dogsledder or listen to his lies! Anyone who does will die!”
    For a time, the only motion was windblown snow. The only sound was the mourning of distant dogs.
    At last, Kannujaq threw down Angula’s knife and walked away. His eyes met the boy’s, fleetingly. The pale blue shards held mingled confusion and despair at Kannujaq’s flight.
    Kannujaq went to his dogs. There were sounds behind him as he left—Angula making more proclamations, no doubt—but he ignored them. In a short time, he left the sounds and the Tunit madness behind him, and there were his dogs. He had never realized before how much he lovedthese mutts. He had never realized what a treasure he possessed in his simple sled.
    He only had scraps of dried meat to throw for the dogs, but it would keep them going. The storm had pretty much passed, leaving a bit of snow behind, and it was an ideal time for departure. He went to see if everything was lashed down properly, then he went to relieve himself.
    A footstep, and there was the sudden flutter of wings. White appeared out of nowhere: a male ptarmigan hidden in an old snow patch. The potential food item nearly flew straight over his head, and Kannujaq desperately looked around for a rock to wing it with.
    Then he saw them.
    There were four, one of them grossly fat. Kannujaq knew that one was Angula. So he had decided not to let Kannujaq live, after all. They were coming on fast, carrying obscenely long knives, much larger than the one Siku had shown him.
    Angula has dipped into his treasures
, Kannujaq thought.
    And bows. This was not about fighting, but straight-out murder. They would cripple him with arrows, finish him with blades.
    Kannujaq raced to the sled and frantically pulled away lashing, retrieving his own bow. His heart was pounding by the time he found arrows and stepped away from the dogs. He wanted no stray shots falling among them.
    The Tunit saw this and froze. He could see the cronies darting questioning looks at Angula, probably trying to convince him that this was a bad idea. Angula only nocked an arrow and drew, aiming high for a good arc.
    Kannujaq backed up and the arrow fell short.
    Angula tried again. This time, his cronies joined in. Several arrows came at Kannujaq, but again he backed up, and they fell short. This happened twice more, and with every