LITMIR.BIZ

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and saw a dark thread cutting through the translucent quartz. At first I thought it was black, then the sun caught an angle, and gold gleamed back at me.

      “Come here, quick!” I screamed. “I see it.”

      “Look at that, will you”, “There really is gold here”, “Who would’ve believed it” came the murmurs as the others crowded around me. John-Joe flicked out more of the needles and ran his fingers along the gold thread. No one moved. We all stared at the thin glimmering line of gold as the fury of the pines swirled around us.

      “Okay, okay. No need to get all excited,” broke in Eric. “Now we know for sure. Question is, how do we stop it?”

      “And we can’t fail,” I replied. “Look up and tell me what you see.”

      As one, we all raised our eyes to the long graceful branches swaying in the wind far above our heads. So high were the arms of these giants that they seemed to be within grasp of kije manido.

      “If the gold is mined, what do you think will happen to them?” I walked towards a nearby giant. Wanting to feel its living, breathing soul, I ran my hand over the time-ravaged bark and dipped my fingers into a sticky dribble of sap. I breathed deeply the life-giving aroma. “It’ll destroy what the ancients fought for.”

      “You got it lady, and a pile of money it’ll make us too.” hissed a voice from behind the tree. A pale mass stepped out from the shadows. My heart stopped.

      “Thought I told you to stay away.” Charlie Cardinal’s threatening scowl glared down at me. He held a rifle, pointed downwards to the ground. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll go back to where you belong in the white man’s shit-hole. Now get out of my way.”

      He swatted me aside, as if I were a mosquito. I stumbled but didn’t fall. Frozen with shock, I watched him walk towards Eric, John-Joe and the others. A sound of heavy breathing, thumping footsteps and six men brushed past me. They flanked Charlie Cardinal. Two of them carried rifles. One held a large logging ax. None wore bright yellow.

      Eric stood firm. His white scar glowed. John-Joe, feet apart, arms crossed over his chest, stood beside him. The other three ranged behind them. They formed a solid barrier.

      Charlie stopped about twenty feet from them. The fringe of his pale buckskin flirted with the wind.

      “Eric, I knew you couldn’t keep away,” Charlie sneered.

      Eric didn’t move, didn’t answer. I watched his gaze coldly appraise Charlie, then settle on the long black and white feather attached to his braid.

      “You’re sure tempting the anger of the spirits by wearing that eagle feather, Charlie,” Eric said.

      Charlie’s hand jerked towards the feather on his shoulder.

      I was confused by Eric’s remark. Surely if Charlie were an elder, he could wear the sacred feather.

      From the inside of his jacket, Eric brought out the black and white feather discovered on the beach “Sure you don’t want to exchange it for this one?”

      Charlie stiffened.

      What was Eric trying to do? Get Charlie to admit the feather belonged to him and in so doing establish that he was the one who’d pushed the tree on top of me?

      “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Charlie shot back, as he reached once more to the feather tied to his braid. “The Creator gave this eagle feather to me, and as hereditary chief of the Migiskan, I have every right to wear it. Now get your asses off this island.”

      He resumed walking towards Eric, still holding the gun barrel pointed to the ground. His men spread out behind him. I recognized the shaved eagle haircut of Charlie’s mouthpiece from the General Store.

      “What right do you have to order us off this land?” Eric challenged.

      “The right of CanacGold.”

      Charlie stopped ten feet from Eric. Eric held his ground. John-Joe uncrossed his arms. The other three moved up beside them. I joined the line.

      “This land belongs to our people. We’re not going anywhere.” Eric’s face was stone, his voice steel.

      “This ain’t Migiskan land. Start moving.”

      “Should’ve known your dirty hand was in this, Charlie. What did you do? Try some of Louis’s tricks and salt it, eh?”

      I started at the mention of Louis’s name and realized I didn’t know the half of what Louis was all about.

      “Shut up!” Charlie growled. “Damn right there’s gold here, over a million ounces, and you’re not going to see a single ounce of it.”

      “You’ve sold out, Charlie, for a few pieces of gold. You’ve betrayed our people by turning over to the white man the land the Creator left in our keeping.”

      For a moment, I thought Charlie was going to attack Eric, but instead he slowly brought his rifle up and pointed it directly at him. John-Joe grunted. I stopped breathing.

      “Are you threatening us, Charlie?” Eric continued, his voice as emotionless as his weather hardened face.

      “I’m just asking you very politely to leave. This land belongs to CanacGold.”

      For an eternity, no one moved, and then someone scraped a boot over some loose stones.

      “Fine, Charlie. We’ll leave, but I am not giving in. This land is Anishinabeg land. The band and I are going to fight you and your damn mine all the way.”

      He stepped forward, inserted the black and white feather into the muzzle of Charlie’s rifle, turned around and walked away.

      FIFTEEN

      The next day I woke up late, much later than I’d planned. After the previous day’s gun-toting confrontation, I’d decided the safest way to stop Charlie and the damn mine was to prove that the government did not own Whispers Island. I planned to spend the day searching through every single box, trunk and any other belonging of Aunt Aggie’s in the hope, no matter how far-fetched, of finding the proof.

      But first, my breakfast. I was starved. However, I’d no sooner sat down to a large plate of scrambled eggs, hash browns and English sausages than Sergei, who was supposed to be sound asleep in the front room, burst into an uproar.

      “Be quiet!” I shouted. But he persisted. I prayed it was nothing more than a teasing raccoon. However, after yesterday, I was half expecting to see Charlie Cardinal’s threatening mass on my doorstep.

      I had no idea what he had against me. Even Eric didn’t know, just assumed, like Hélène, that Charlie’s intense hatred for him was spilling over onto me. That, and the fact I was also against the gold mine. Moreover, Eric was convinced Charlie was nothing but a harmless bully, full of bluster with no substance. He figured that as long as I stayed out of Charlie’s way, he’d leave me alone. Eric did, however, tell me to let him know if Charlie threatened me again.

      It was all very well for Eric to say Charlie was no real threat. But with the possibility of Charlie arriving on my doorstep, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to test out Eric’s theory. I debated pretending I wasn’t home but decided that was playing into Charlie’s hand. So, determined not to allow my fears to get the better of me, I marched to the front door. But no bull moose stood on my doorstep, or anyone else for that matter. Nor was Sergei in sight. In fact, he had stopped barking.

      Before I had a chance to return inside, Sergei bounded over the top stair from the dock. Close behind him strode a tall figure, too lean to be Charlie. I relaxed. It was Eric.

      “What’s up?” I called out, surprised but faintly pleased by this unexpected visit.

      He waited until he reached the porch before replying. Instead of a smile, worry creased his face.

      “I wanted to let you know before you heard from anyone

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