Once in days no more remembered,
Ages nearer the beginning,
When the heavens were closer to us,
And the Gods were more familiar,
In the north-land lived a hunter.
Canadian Wilderness – May 1801
Spring had finally arrived, and Mishe-Mowka was glad.
Her island home was bursting with new life, new sounds, new smells, and new colors. Tiny brown and white chickadees, boisterous red-winged black birds, and huge, raucous, coal black crows were singing, chirping, and merrily calling out in the branches of the giant pine trees above.
Inquisitive brown chipmunks and industrious red squirrels chattered happily and scampered all about the forest floor, also rejoicing in its yearly rebirth. Wildflowers of every shape, size, and color were bursting through the moist, sweet smelling soil.
With all the new life, hope, and natural wonder surrounding her, how could Mishe-Mowka not be happy at this moment in time?
Although she had spent the long cold winter safe and snug in her home, lovingly cuddled up with her two young children, she and they had all anxiously awaited this first foray of the season outdoors.
And, not one of them had been disappointed. The day was simply marvelous.
Mishe-Mowka’s love for her two young children was also boundless. She knew in her heart that her male child would one day grow to be a great hunter and provider. She also knew that her female offspring would one day mature into a gentle, loving parent, just as she was.
At this moment, Mishe-Mowka was lying comfortably and lazily in the tall green saw grass at the edge of the lakeshore. She had just eaten her fill of the succulent wild blueberries growing nearby.
Her hunger now almost completely sated, she was becoming very drowsy. It had, indeed, been a long bitter winter and the bright, warm, life-giving sun of this glorious spring day felt wonderful on her back.
Since her two beloved children were now safely playing in the nearby brush, she slowly closed her large dark eyes and decided to take a well-deserved nap.
Just as Mishe-Mowka drifted off to sleep, she heard a faint shrill cry in the distance. She intuitively roused herself fully awake. As she listened intently, her ears fully erect, she suddenly heard it again.
She painfully realized that the muted sound was the terrified call of one of her own babies crying out in pain. She scrambled to her feet and raced in the direction of the heart-wrenching wail...
©2004, Ed Kostro – an Excerpt from Cemetery Island
In the northland, lived a hunter.
fee
You are a fine storyteller.
Georg
Blessings and Love ~~ Micke
(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in Tx., Karen Lynn. :D