Often I feel as if she isn’t far away. When I see a beautiful starry night, a huge fir tree stretching its branches wide, the reflection of the sun on the water, I stop and share my feelings with her. I know she would feel the same way I do.

I’ve even started talking to her in my heart. I’m sure she can hear me. Sometimes I hear her calling out to me with her beautiful Attikamek accent. My heart stops, and I hear her calling my name. “Nipishish! Nipishish!”

2

TODAY I NOTICE strangers in the forest around the reserve. I’m curious, so I sneak between the birch clumps and jackpines on the edge of Lac Cabonga. I crouch down in the thick green brush like a partridge on the alert. From here I can see everything without being spotted.

The men suspect nothing. I keep a good distance behind them. They’re white, and they’re wearing hard hats and boots like loggers. There’s a young guy and an old one. It’s the old one who’s carrying the heaviest load.

He carefully sticks a big tripod in the ground. It’s got a big scope on it, just like the ones on American rifles.

But these men aren’t hunters.

The older guy is obviously the boss. When his tripod is firmly in place, he squats and bends forward, his hands on his thighs and his rear end high in the air. He looks through the sight at the other man standing off in the distance.

Suddenly he gets all excited. He spreads his legs and flaps his arms like he’s about to take off.

The young man faces him and holds a long pointed stick straight up. He carefully follows the signals of his boss.

He goes to the right, to the left. He backs up, moves forward. He’s like a duck that’s trying to hide and doesn’t know whether to dive or fly away.

Suddenly the old guy straightens up and crosses his arms.

“Hold it!” he shouts. He makes a fist and points his thumb down at the ground. The other man grabs a long wooden stake from a bag on his back and hammers it into the ground with his ax head. The stake sinks deep into the black earth.

Satisfied, the two men walk on a bit farther and go through the same routine.

That evening I tell Manie what I saw.

Manie’s the head of an important family, the Twenish. She took over after Jos died. She’s like a mother to me.