The Shadow of the Wolf (2 page)

The closer we came to our new village of La Croix, the more Indians we saw. The men wore breechcloths and leggings that went from their ankles to their hips. Some had
calico shirts embroidered with beads. They wore feathers in their hair or bright cloths wrapped around their heads. The women were in calico dresses or long tunics. Their leggings went only to the knee and were folded over at the top. Their hair was braided with ribbons or hung down with no ornament but a beaded band around their foreheads.

The Indians were curious about us. When we stopped in the evenings to camp, they peered into our wagon. Although Mama and Papa invited them to join us, they preferred to sit a little distance from our campfire, talking long into the night. What they liked best was William. The Indian women would pick him up from his cradle and pass him about, exclaiming at his bonnet and dress. When they first did this, Mama was frightened. But when she saw how carefully they held him and how they laughed at his gurgling, she forgot her worry.

We came to La Croix on a day so warm and sunny it was hard to believe it was the
end of October. We saw a small mission church and next to it a great wooden cross, which gave the village its name. La Croix is French for “the cross.” There was also a cooper’s shop, where barrels were made for the fish the Indians caught and sold.

Scattered among the woods were two or three cabins. Through the trees we had our first glimpse of Lake Michigan. Along the shore of the lake were Indian wigwams with their coverings of birch bark or woven rush mats. Nearby were the fields where the Ottawa grew their corn. Beyond the fields were the Ottawa’s burial grounds, with little birchbark houses to mark the graves. Two years before, Fawn’s brother, along with hundreds of other Indians, had been carried off by the smallpox.

Sanatua greeted us. He told us that their chief was anxious to meet Papa. “Each day more land is eaten by these greedy men. But first you must take your family to your house. The tribe is thankful for your coming. They
have brought wood so you will keep warm this winter. Here is maple syrup and a basket of fish for your dinner. Tomorrow I will come and take you to our chief.”

“And Fawn?” I asked. “Will I see her?”

“Today Taw cum e go qua is gathering acorns with her mother. Tomorrow I will send her to you.”

We left the village and once again entered the woods. After only a few miles we turned onto a road so narrow that the branches of the trees scraped against the sides of our wagon. I could see Mama was holding her breath. Suddenly there in front of us was our house. Mama and I didn’t wait for the wagon to stop. We jumped off. Mama ran toward the house. I ran toward the great Lake Michigan. Below me was a wide sand beach. Beyond the beach, as far as your eye could see, was the lake.

The ride that day had been hot and dusty. I took off my shoes and stockings. Then I gathered up my dress and ran down the bluff
and into the lake. I felt the wet sand between my toes. Gulls soared over my head. The cold waves slapped at my legs. As I looked over that endless water; the world seemed to grow.

Mama was calling to me. After I rubbed the sand from my feet, I hurried into the house. It looked enormous to me. Downstairs was a parlor with a large fireplace and a kitchen with another fireplace for cooking. There was one big bedroom for Mama, Papa, and William. I was to have the other bedroom. Because of the roofs pitch, you could only stand up in the middle of my room. But there was a window that looked out upon the lake and a door to close.

Mama was as pleased as I was. “Rob, I’m glad we came. The house needs a good cleaning, but when I hang our curtains and put down the rugs, we will have a fine home. And to have a lake right at our doorstep! Have you ever seen such a blue? Tomorrow I mean to get out my watercolors and paint the lake.”

Papa laughed. “Why would you want to paint it, Vinnie, when you have it right here?”

I soon understood why Mama wanted to paint the lake, for it was forever changing. If you did not catch the lake’s color or the way the sun shone on it, the color and the dazzle would be lost forever.

That evening a rain began to fall, and we quickly got to know the house better. The roof leaked, so we had to put pails in the bedrooms to catch the water. Every cupboard we opened showed that mice lived in the house. When we lit a fire, the chimney smoked so badly we had to open all the windows and doors, inviting the storm inside.

Papa promised to clean the chimneys and patch the roof first thing in the morning. Mama scrubbed the cupboards and scolded the mice out of the house. We made a fine dinner of the fish Sanatua had given us. Mama cooked up some apples we had brought from Saginaw, and we each had a bit of the maple syrup on them. We had just finished our dinner when we heard a knock at our door.

The man at the door had no more shape than a dumpling. You had to search for his eyes and nose and mouth in all the folds of his skin. He was gasping for breath from the effort of riding his horse to our house. When Mama offered him a chair, he sank down upon it.

Finally he was able to speak. His name was George Blanker, he said. He was dressed in a fine suit and tall hat. In his hands he held a box, which he now handed to me. “Here you are, little girl, a small present.”

I carefully lifted the lid of the box. Inside
was a doll more beautiful than I could ever have imagined. She had a china head with pink cheeks, real hair, and blue eyes that seemed to look right at me. She was dressed in silk and even wore tiny leather shoes. I exclaimed with pleasure.

Papa looked less pleased. “That’s very kind of you, sir, but it is a more generous gift than we would expect from a stranger.”

I gave Papa a questioning look. Mr.
Blanker cleared his throat. “Mr. Mitchell, sir, I hope we will soon be friends rather than strangers. I understand you are a surveyor. Our company is in need of one. I can promise we will pay you well.”

“What is your company, sir?” Papa asked.

“Why, I represent one of the largest timber companies in the state of Michigan. We own thousands of acres. We are logging downstate now. But we want to have a new supply of forest ready and waiting. If you don’t buy ahead, the price becomes too dear. There is a fine harbor just south of here where steamers can load the logs and take them down to Chicago. They say houses are rising there at the rate of one a day.”

Papa’s lips tightened. “Where will this land come from?”

“Why, from the Indians!” Mr. Blanker looked pleased with himself. “According to the Treaty of 1836, the government has the right to take back the land around here that the Ottawa Indians have been living on. We
mean to buy up that land. And I will tell you a secret.” He lowered his voice and looked about as though there might be spies in the room. “I have heard that there is a grove of bird’s-eye maple around here. I mean to have it. Bird’s-eye is all the thing for furniture.”

Mama has often enough told me that children should be seen and not heard. Still, I could not help asking, “What if the
Indians
want to buy back their land?”

Mr. Blanker gave me a surprised look, as if a dog had suddenly started talking. Then he appeared cross. Finally he laughed.

“Well, miss, we are going to get there first. We’re a lot shrewder at buying land than the Indians. Let them go up to Canada or out west. Why, I heard only the other day that those Indians want the government to give them citizenship status. They want to be able to vote. What do you say to that?”

Mama sat up very straight in her chair. She reached over and took the doll from me. Carefully she wrapped the doll up and placed
her back in her box. Then she handed the box to Mr. Blanker.

“What’s this?” he said.

Papa stood up. “I’m afraid I have already pledged to work for someone else.”

“Someone else? Tell me what that company has agreed to pay you and I will double it.”

“There is no company” Papa said. “I have come north to survey land for the Ottawa and to help them buy back as much land as they need.”

All the folds on Mr. Blanker’s face puffed out like the cheeks of a frog. “You will never get rich working for Indians.”

“It was never my plan to get rich; Mr. Blanker. I only wanted to help the Indians, who are my friends. Now I have another purpose. It is to see that you do not get the land. Good day, sir.”

The door slammed as Mr. Blanker stamped out of the house.

“Who was that man?” I asked.

“He is what is called a timber cruiser,” Papa said. “Such men go about scouting large sections of land for logging companies.”

Mama sighed. “We have been here less than a day and already we have an enemy.”

“We have right on our side, Vinnie. That is all the protection we need.”

I told myself Mama had been right to give back the doll. Still, my arms felt empty. I knew I would never see such a doll again. It was wrong, but I would have given up many trees to keep her. The loneliness of this strange, new place made me long for something of my own to hold on to.

We were all too tired from our travels to let Mr. Blanker’s rudeness keep us awake. For the first time in his life William slept through the night. Papa said the sound of the waves soothed him. Indeed, the washing of the waves against the shore is the most restful sound you can imagine. Somewhere between one wave and another I fell asleep.

Papa worked on the roof all the next day. When he finally came in to supper, he had a present for me. “It’s not a fancy doll, Libby but it will be company for you.” He handed me his handkerchief, which he had knotted into a kind of little bag. I nearly dropped the handkerchief—it was moving! Papa told me to untie the knots.

As soon as the first knot was undone, I saw big brown eyes staring out at me. Hastily, I untied the other knots.

“It’s a flying squirrel, Libby. There was a nest of them in the chimney. The other squirrels
got away, but this one seemed tame.”

The squirrel was so tiny he fit into the palm of my hand. His fur was brown on top and white underneath. On either side was a fold of skin reaching from his front to his back leg. Papa said the folds stretched out like wings so the squirrel could glide from tree to tree. His feathery tail curved over his body like a plume. He had enormous brown eyes, shiny as acorns. “That’s so the squirrel can see at night,” Papa said.