[...]
Lone Caribou had to bend to the English will. He followed his path through the woods, leading the soldier squad through the wilderness. The mission of the army was to explore new surroundings, visualize rather than establish, project military outcomes or manoeuvre. The atmosphere was very tense – not only with the tension between two great Empires, England and France, but also through alliances with natives – and Lone Caribou could sense the approaching danger.
Forever thankful to his accompanying mate, Lone Caribou crossed the forest and hills with undeniable speed. The trapper ran by his side and they shared their competences: one taught another about the habits of hunting and strategies of cunning.
The hunter had been deceived by the leader’s behavior in regard to Lone Caribou. He was disappointed with the attitude of the English Crown. He told Lone Caribou how their manners had decreased ever since they had left the port of Liverpool. He told him that the soldiers were trained for killing and certainly apt to carry out their mission but that they had no chance, without a guide or a native, to survive in a country as wide and unknown as this.
At night the men would build a fire and have supper together. They kept talking and talking, their words filled a much too present void and stillness. When the fire had almost died down and few ashes still preserved the heat, Lone Caribou would stay alone to meditate, remember things, reflect on memories. He often thought about his people, about the many challenges he had to face and actions he had undertaken to become who he was. Often there was the picture of this woman who haunted him in his dreams and during his moments of solitude. Was it the picture haunting him or was it him who was haunted by the memory of this girl?
He certainly was obsessed with this memory. Few had been the moments spent with the girl but this time had been essential to Lone Caribou. Just the remembrance of the camp and the touch of her skin felt as a relief to the native, a relief coming from the love he felt for her. Lone Caribou would recollect and try to imagine what kind of life she may lead. Never did he reflect on her feelings or wonder about any reciprocity. Thinking about her appeared as a relief because he still believed they would meet again, one day.
The morning sun shone through the beech trees and announced a fresh morning.
“Hast thou spent the night by the side of the fire?” the hunter’s voice proclaimed instead of a warm greeting.
“I reflected about the changes,” Lone Caribou was quick to answer.
“By changes would you mean plans to move on, plans to get through the wilderness? On how to approach the Cree for instance,” the trapper sat down next to Lone Caribou who looked into the distance.
“When I say “changes”, I think about it in general terms. Yes, it concerns our way to progress. Yes, it deals with great nations who live in the surroundings. But change does also imply the submission of our land to exterior forces,” Lone Caribou’s words sounded like the voice of the brave men.
“The change, you would say, that comes from behind the great sea,” the hunter finally slid in.
“The change that affirms itself with guns and powder. The change that gets engraved with the strength and violence of a blade. A change you could not escape from or you will get burned alive!” Lone Caribou’s exclamation dramatized the situation to an extent that appeared to portray the cruelty of the real outcome.
The men left for another journey of walking. Their late camp had been in the mountains on an impressive height but then they started for superior levels. They would leave the surroundings of beech trees and pines; they would head for the very top of the mountain. Trees became scarce and stony edges of cliffs emerged on their side. Marching upon rocks and through open spaces where even grass was the exception. When they reached the top of the mountain their view was clear and the horizon spread in front of their eyes. Thanks to the clearness of the weather the hunter and the Indian could see over the vast plains running southward. They could also discern a fort implanted in the midst of the wilderness lying at their feet. [...]
© 2016 Matt Oehler
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