After I had killed my first deer, a stag in its fifth season, several of the boys apparently accepted me as one of themselves; but Gorgi and Tekeeni, with whom I now shared a tepee, were the only two who were pleased when Dorrok said I had done well, so I was glad when the three of us were chosen to hunt our first grizzly together.
To kill a grizzly was considered the first important stage towards becoming a Brown Feather, and to wear its claw on a neck-thong meant that you could give orders to any boy who had not yet gained the same honour: I looked forward to giving orders, for I had not forgotten how difficult some of them had made my first months with them. Grizzlies are easier to kill in the early spring, when they are stupid after their long sleep, but as their fat is poor then, the ones needed by the tribe are hunted in autumn.
We were told which spur of the mountains to search for the bear, but all decisions as how best to attack it were left to us. If we had not succeeded within fifteen days we must return to admit failure, and if we made a kill we must come back as quickly as possible so that Naked Foreheads could be sent to bring down the carcass.
For days the three of us talked of little else. Arrow after arrow was discarded, either because the haft was not perfectly balanced, or else we thought the set of the feathers might be improved. Each of us took a deer-skin bag of pemmican and corn-meal, for on the high ground it might be difficult to find food; we also took a sling for bringing down small birds, a heavy club with a stone head, and a wooden bar bound with raw-hide which Gorgi believed might be thrust into the bear’s jaws if it tried to crush one of us. I hoped that we should never have to use it!
It was not until the night before we were due to start that I remembered Pekoo. Raki and I used to give him honey when we could find any, putting some in the bottom of his food-bowl which he held in his front paws, standing upright in his excitement to lick out the last trace of sweetness. When he was small he whimpered if we didn’t take him with us, but as he grew older he sometimes disappeared for days, then suddenly came back and followed us everywhere, pretending he had never let us out of his sight. He was away when Mother died, and he never came back. We hoped he had found a mate who didn’t like humans, so that he would keep away from hunters: we knew that they hadn’t found him yet, for none of the bear-skins they had brought in were marked by the white blaze on the left shoulder which made Pekoo different from all other grizzlies.
I tried to forget about Pekoo. Grizzlies were large, and dangerous, and the pride of hunters: they had never been small, lonely cubs who snuggled up beside Raki and Piyanah for warmth. Hunters killed grizzlies and were honoured by the tribe who needed their skin and their grease, and ate of the flesh which brought strength and cunning. Piyanah was a hunter, not a child with a pet bear.
We left at dawn: the air was clammy with mist and Tekeeni’s footprints showed dark in the grey damp of the turf. We led in turn, for it was easier to follow in made tracks than to be the forerunner who must choose each footstep. Following, you can run without thinking, for training has made your stride the same length as your companions’; only a skilled tracker can tell if two or twenty have taken the same path, and sometimes even he is deceived.
Later in the morning Gorgi saw some pigeons and got three of them with the sling. We were hungry, and as we did not want to waste time making a fire, we ate them raw, sprinkled with salt. We were moving south-west across the slope of the foothills, for it was in this direction that we had seen the tracks of several grizzlies during the previous moon. It was not easy country to cross, for there were many steep water-courses, and woods where thick undergrowth forced us to follow winding game tracks which often led us in the wrong direction.
The first night we caught some trout and roasted them in hot embers, and next day Tekeeni killed a small deer, a doe in her first season, so we had more fresh meat than we could carry. There were still nuts to be found in the thickets, though it was late in the year for them, so we had plenty to eat. When we got above the tree line, we could see patches of snow higher on the moraine. The rocks were covered with the lichen which some species of deer prefer to any other feed, and we saw several stags in the distance who had not yet been driven down to the lower ground by the snow.
On the evening of the fourth day we found the spoor of a large grizzly, probably a solitary male, as there was no track of a second one though usually they pair before winter. We drew lots from the spoor, as is the custom, to decide who should have the first chance to make a kill. I hoped that I looked sufficiently elated when it fell to me. It is useless to send an arrow against a bear until you are within twenty paces, or through the thick fur it is unlikely to do more than wound and make the bear turn on you. The hunter should advance slowly towards the grizzly, when, if he is lucky, it will stand upright, so displaying its softer under-parts through which a heavy arrow can bring a clean, swift death. Tracking a wounded grizzly is a thing no hunter enjoys; he knows he cannot leave it to die without incurring dishonour not only with his tribe but also in the land of the Great Hunters, where animals who have suffered needless pain give judgment against him before the Lords of the Animals.
We spent the next day casting a wide semicircle until we found where the tracks converged; always the tracks of the same bear, so we knew he had chosen his winter cave and probably already spent most of his time there. Soon after dawn next morning we saw the mouth of a cave, opening on a ledge of the ridge above us. Snow had fallen during the night and there was only one set of tracks, going towards the cave, so we knew he must be in it.
I tried to pretend the feeling in my belly was hunger—we hadn’t eaten since early the previous day except to chew strips of pemmican. But I knew the feeling was fear—a different kind of fear from that I had felt in being parted from Raki, a little like diving from a new height, but slower and heavier, and very disagreeable.
We were down-wind of the cave, but we crawled forward, using every small irregularity in the ground for cover. If the bear was awake and saw us, he would either escape up the mountain or else charge us before we were ready. At thirty paces from the cave I stood upright and notched an arrow. Gorgi with his club, and Tekeeni, with an arrow in his hand but not set to the string, stood ten paces behind me. Until I had wounded the bear, admitted failure, or asked for their help, they were not allowed to take part in the kill.
The sunlight poured down on the snow, and except for an eagle wheeling in wide circles above me everything was still. At twenty paces I halted; no hunter will go into a cave which he believes to be occupied, unless a demon has afflicted him with madness, for he would be blinded by the sudden darkness while his quarry saw him clearly outlined against the daylight. I began to feel sick, and the fear in my belly got harder and more sullen.
I knew it would be wiser to wait until the bear came out of the cave, for if he was not aware of me he would probably be sleepy and half blind in the sudden brightness. But suspense spoke louder than wisdom; I picked up a stone and flung it up to the ledge and heard it clatter against the mouth of the cave. Then before the echoes died away, I flung another, and another.
A large dark head against the darkness…and then the largest grizzly I had ever seen came out into the sunlight, his head swaying from side to side as he scented the wind for an enemy. I shouted and he stood upright. But before I released the straining arrow I saw that the left shoulder was white…white, as no other grizzly had been, except Pekoo.
I was no longer Piyanah the hunter; I was part of Raki and Piyanah and Pekoo, who had been happy together. To kill him would be to kill part of us, to let the present stain the happy past we shared.
Gorgi ran forward. “What’s the matter? Why did you lose that chance? Quick, Piyanah…there’s still time!”
“I can’t kill him,” I said flatly.
“Piyanah…you’re not afraid?” There was horror in Gorgi’s voice.
“I can’t kill him.”
“Then I will,” said Gorgi, and started to draw his bow.
“Put it down! You have got to obey me. He is my grizzly.”
“You’ve had your chance and thrown it away…now I’m going to have mine,” said Gorgi.
“He’s my grizzly, mine, do you understand? He belonged to Raki and me before we joined the tribe.”
I saw that neither of them believed me. …I must make them believe me or they would kill Pekoo and betray us.
“If I go up to him and he lets me stroke him, will you believe he knows me?” I said desperately.
“You’re mad, Piyanah,” said Tekeeni. “There must be demons up here and you’ve been listening to them. No one ever had a pet grizzly; they are much too fierce.”
“I will show you…I will prove to you. You have got to obey me until I ask for help. You’ve got to, or else you have broken the law of the hunters.”
“You’re mad,” said Tekeeni miserably. “We’ll never tell the others you were frightened. They’ll think that Gorgi had the first chance and then me. It’s very brave of a girl to come on a grizzly hunt: and it’s not cowardly for a girl to be afraid. We’ll never tell anyone, Piyanah, if only you’ll admit that it’s our turn now.”
“I’m not a coward, and I’ll prove it! Stay here: I order you to stay here!”
And before they could argue I began to walk slowly up the slope towards Pekoo. Had he forgotten me? It was four years…more, it was five years, since he had seen me. If only the wind would change, he might remember my smell. I began to whistle, the tune Raki and I had used to call him. Had he remembered?
He dropped down on all fours and swayed his head from side to side. … “I don’t think he’s seen me yet. It is difficult to whistle when your mouth is dry. I must go slowly or he’ll think I mean to attack him.
“Pekoo,” I said, “Pekoo!” Was he going to charge? He began slowly walking towards me. “Shall I stand still and wait for him, or go forward?”
He stopped: I could see the blaze more clearly now, so I was quite sure he was Pekoo. “I must forget that I am a hunter and that he is a grizzly…and remember that we were both small and friendly, and that neither is afraid. …”
Suddenly I found I wasn’t afraid…the greyness had gone; I must talk to him as I used to. “Do you want some honeycomb, Pekoo? We must go and find Raki. Milk, Pekoo?”
Very slowly I went forward, holding out my hands. He stared at me, sniffing, undecided whether to trust me or to attack.
“Honey, Pekoo! Don’t you remember the honey?”
I whistled, and this time he pricked up his ears. Now I was so near that I could smell the warmth of him.
“Where is Raki, Pekoo? Beautiful, small Pekoo.” I put my hand on his forehead and rubbed him behind the ears. He flinched and drew back: then he sat up on his haunches and put up his chin for me to scratch him on the throat.
For a little while he remembered me, or perhaps it was only my smell or the sound of my voice that he remembered. Then he shook himself like a dog after a swim, and ambled away, pausing only once to look back at me.
Gorgi and Tekeeni were standing where I had left them. We were all too embarrassed to speak. I was still caught up with the young Piyanah who was so fiercely lonely without Raki and resented any other companion. If they jeered at me for loving a bear I should hate them, and then the awful loneliness of the first moons would come back. If only the bear hadn’t been Pekoo I should be feeling proud and brave…or else by now I should be safely dead, and not have to keep on trying to remember whether I was a girl or a man.
Gorgi stared at the ground and shuffled his feet. I supposed he was feeling a fool because he had ever accepted me as an equal. Then, to my astonishment, I heard him say:
“I never knew a girl could be as brave as a Scarlet Feather.”
And Tekeeni said, “I am sorry I thought you were frightened, Piyanah. Need you tell the others that Gorgi and I were fools?”
Then Gorgi said, “Because of you and Raki we will honour all squaws, and ask you to take us into your tribe.”
Suddenly the three of us were happier than we had ever been before; we hugged each other, and shouted with laughter, and pelted each other with snow…and forgot that the lives of hunters are hard and difficult.