Free The Porcupine Year by Louise Erdrich Page A

blanket, snoring softly. When he rose, the porcupine would follow him to the fire and sit beside him. Quill would share his first food of the day—some wild rice, a bit of stew, whatever he had. The porcupine especially liked tea now that the weather was getting cool. Nokomis prepared rich swamp tea from a shiny leaf with a dull brown underside and added a little maple sugar to the tin cup everybody shared. The porcupine always got the sweet dregs. It would sit, balanced on its threatening tail, and hold the cup in its plump dark paws. Quill had taught it to drink the tea, and after it drank the sweetness it always gave a tiny sigh of happiness. Then it would throw the cup down and waddle away.

    Mama said that it wouldn’t be long before the porcupinedid not return, and that made Omakayas feel sad about the passing of things. Not only that, but since Quill had returned from the Bwaanag, he had become surprisingly quiet and serious, and he avoided Omakayas the way boys, as they grew older, avoided their sisters. She was surprised that she missed his teasing ways, but she did, and often looked over at him paddling with Fishtail and wished that he would make a face at her or splash her or even laugh at her. So she felt an unexpected happiness when he woke her one morning with an insult.
    â€œWhat’s this old root that drifted up last night?” he said, kicking at her foot.
    She kicked back at him, sleepily, and sat up rubbing the sleep off her face.
    â€œIt’s your sister,” she said, “the one you have forgotten.”
    â€œIt is you,” said Quill slowly, “who will soon forget me.”
    They looked at each other for a moment, upset at their own feelings, then Quill bugged his eyes out, stretched his lips with his fingers, made a horrible cackling noise, and began to pelt her with leaves and sticks. Omakayas felt better immediately and jumped up to start the day, which, as it happened, would be one that she’d long remember.

    THE RAID
    I t began with a hearty boozhoo from the woods as they were settling their packs and kettles into their canoes. Omakayas was helping Old Tallow pack her canoe, and she had just settled Zahn and Zozed in among the goods that they would carry. All of the canoes were pulled just barely ashore, ready at any moment to shove off, when the boozhoo sounded again.
    â€œI know that voice,” said Old Tallow. “And I don’t like it.”
    Soon the leaves parted and none other than Albert LaPautre appeared, the husband of Auntie Muskrat and father of Omakayas’s cousins. He was round as a barrel, with tiny eyes sharp with greed, and wore his hair in two long braids. LaPautre was vain about his clothing and always had to have the nattiest vests and fanciest silver pins and armbands. However, this day, although he looked to have dressed himself in what he considered finery, there was something wretched about his appearance. Strings of tattered ribbon hung from his shirt, and his pants were held up with a sash that shone with grease. The family hadn’t seen him since they had all left the island together. After only a few days, Albert LaPautre had persuaded Auntie Muskrat to take a different route north.
    Although Old Tallow held herself still and her dogs growled suspiciously, Omakayas was happy to see her uncle because it meant, she hoped, that her cousins wouldbe near. But Albert LaPautre appeared to be alone. She dropped the bundle she was carrying and went forward to greet her uncle.
    Deydey also approached Albert and asked about the rest of the family.
    â€œI am surprised to see you here,” added Mama, who was holding Bizheens by the hand. She had just put most of her cooking equipment into the canoe she would paddle with Deydey. “Where is my sister?” she asked.
    â€œWhere is my daughter?” echoed Nokomis.
    â€œWhere are my cousins?” said Quill and Omakayas together.
    Fishtail and Angeline, who had just