Free Lost in the Barrens by Farley Mowat Page B

fallen, but he trusted Awasin’s marksmanship. Bustling about with no regard for his leg, he gathered more moss and heaped it on the fire.
    When Awasin came back he was dog-tired but happy. Over his shoulder he carried the hindquarters of a fine young buck, and in his pack he had the tongue, kidneys, and back meat.
    Fairly stuttering with excitement, Jamie grabbed the knife and began to hack off thick steaks. Draped by the side of the fire, the steaks soon began to give off a rich smell. Expertly Awasin sliced the deer tongue into thin pieces and set it to fry. The fat oozed out of it and sizzled merrily. Then he added the kidneys to the mixture. Finally he peeled the leg bones and thrust them into the heart of the fire, where the marrow soon began to spit and crack.
    â€œIt was easy, Jamie,” he said. “I let them come so close they almost stepped on me. But the biggest news is that the plains beyond that ridge are covered with deer, hundreds of them. The trek must have started some days ago.”
    Jamie paused in the act of turning the steaks. “Maybe that’s not so good,” he said slowly. “If the deer reached Denikazi’s camp two or three days ago, he may be ready to head back south again. We’ll have to make speed to reach the river in time to catch him.”
    This sober thought rather took the wind out of Awasin’s sails. But nothing could entirely take away the pleasure of a good meat dinner after days of fish. Before he droppedoff to sleep, Awasin turned to Jamie. “Tomorrow we will reach the river,” he said, “and catch Denikazi.” Fully fed and content, Jamie was willing to believe his friend. The boys slept heavily that night despite a recurring dream that haunted Jamie—a dream of Denikazi paddling his canoe far to the south, without them.
    The new day began well, with a clearing sky. And hurriedly the boys packed the rest of the deermeat in their homemade packs and set out.
    As they moved across the south tongue of the mountain they could see the blue shadows of the distant range of hills which they knew must lie on the far side of the river they were seeking. Below them, on the wide plains, little herds of caribou drifted before the morning breeze. It was not the vast migration that they had heard about, but the presence of the deer, even in small herds, was a friendly thing that partially dispelled the loneliness of the Barrens.
    As evening drew on, the weather turned foul, and a driving rain closed in about the boys so that they could no longer even see Idthen-seth, which was now to the north of them. They were forced to make an early camp, and a fireless one, for all the fuel was wet. During the long hours until darkness they sat impatiently, huddled close together for warmth. When they slept at last, it was a wet and miserable slumber broken often by the need to move around and restore their circulation. Sometime just after dawn, when a heavy mist still obscured the world about, Awasin could stand the strain no longer.
    â€œCome on, Jamie,” he said. “Let’s try to find that river.”
    Breakfasting on cold scraps, they set out again, feeling their way cautiously over the rough ground. At length Awasin came to such a sudden stop that Jamie bumped into him. “Listen!” Awasin said. “Hear anything?”
    Jamie strained his ears. Through the gray blanket of the mist he heard a faint muttering sound. For a moment he could not identify it, then he shouted. “Rapids! We must be near the river!”
    Stumbling and falling over the half-seen rocks, they scrambled down a steep slope until they could see the dull sheen of running water. They had found a river, and it must be the river they were seeking.
    â€œLet’s walk upstream,” Awasin suggested. “There are bound to be willows on the shore and we can build a fire and get dry.”
    A few hundred yards farther they found a clump of low dwarf willows,