Winter Prey

Chapter 37

A small boy wandered out of the flap on a nearby nasaogan, and their time alone ceased. He shouted the warrior's name and ducked back inside. Soon the entire tribe gathered.

Not everyone was happy to see Cocoman back. That evening, as he sat at the central fire so they could all gather and hear his tale, he stared across the flames at Cingusi. From the time they were boys, the two had hated each other. The Wolf Clan, Cocoman's, and the Marten Clan, Cingusi's, and Nimiwin's Loon Clan, went their separate ways at times, but they always gathered in the winter at the same camp.

They shared their supplies and helped each other weather the cold, freezing months from manidogizisons as they waited for apizigwun. The boys played games with each other when they were young, games that grew fiercer in competition as they aged. This was good for them, the Elders insisted, even when the competitions resulted in injuries. They would have to help protect the tribe from enemies when they reached manhood. Their physical prowess would be important, as would the fierce desire to defeat the enemy and the lack of fear of their own injuries as they fought.

No two warriors battled to be the best in each and every competition more furiously than Cocoman and Cingusi. And Cocoman came out on top far too frequently for Cingusi, which fed the hatred between them, fueled the resentment in Cingusi. They carried scars from each other, Cingusi more than Cocoman.

Cocoman had no sympathy for the weaker warrior. He fought him as hard in the play games as he did when they were learning the skills of battle.

He sent an arrogant glance across the flames at the other man, who had even vied for Nimiwin's affections. Cocoman wasn't sure whether his foe actually cared for Nimiwin or had continued their long-running battle because he noticed Cocoman's interest in her. It did not matter. Nimiwin had chosen. And chosen the better man, the one who had the higher standing in the tribe, the respect shown the best warrior.

Now bathed and wearing garb from his own nasaogan, he told the tale of their journey...as far as it went, and as much as he could reveal. One by one, he listed each of the other warriors in his band and told of their deaths, each in the order of its happening. Three died coughing from the disease in their chests. Two raved with fever until they stilled at last. The families sat stoically throughout the tales of others than their loved one, but when their turn came, each wailed and left the fire to begin their grief and mourning.

One man in the war party had been Cingusi's brother. When Cocoman related that the brother had been the last to die - he had found him one morning already frozen in his blankets - Cingusi's mother, father and sister keened and left the circle. But before Cingusi joined them, he glared at Cocoman and stood.

"And why did you not die?" Cingusi snarled. "How is it that you alone came back?"

Cocoman stood to face him. "By the grace of Midé Manido," he insisted. "It was my destiny to return and tell the others what had happened. To allow them to know."

Cingusi spat on the ground, then whirled and stalked after his family. Cocoman immediately sought Nimiwin's face. Her expression held worship and thankfulness for his return. That was all he needed.

Late that night, they met at their place, a cave a half-hour's journey from the campsite. He held her, caressed her, and they made their plans for when the clans split up and moved in apizigwun. They would leave this campsite as one, their possessions joined, one nasaogan to sleep in from then on. Nimiwin's father had given his blessing, even though the war party had failed in its quest for vengeance.

"You seem...." Nimiwin bit her lip.

"What?" he asked. "Haven't I shown you how glad I am to be with you again?"