April 22
Now that we are through the canyon, we are no longer driven by fear that the ice will wash out. Instead hunger is our greatest menace.
This far upriver, the main channel of the Wolverine remains frozen but is too precarious to travel. Much of the valley is now free of snow, so we have abandoned the sleds & rely on packs. Each of us will carry a sleeping bag, blanket, one change of underclothes. Carbines, pistols, ammunition, cooking utensils, account for much of the weight. Lieut. Pruitt continues to carry camera & science equipment. As for provisions, we could easily consume all that we have in three days, but will instead hold them as reserve. We must attempt to live upon the country. Already the men are weakened by hunger?—?Boyd still recovers from his hard winter, Pruitt seems to waste before our eyes.
It is an uneasy balance, weighing progress in our travel each day with the need to look for food. We heard geese overhead early this morning. Though it is yet early in the spring, Samuelson says we may be fortunate enough to find nesting birds & so be rewarded with both roasted fowl & fried eggs. Such a meal would be very well received.
April 23
All evidence to the contrary, we had a good day’s travel. Our only sustenance was a few spoonfuls of beans for each of us in the morning. We then walked 10 miles over granite boulders, rocky shores, with no sign of game. Beset by hunger, the poor condition of our leather boots, & heavy pack loads, our pace was at times a stumbling shuffle.
For all that, we were given blue skies & much sunshine, which carried our spirits. The mountains to the northeast become more visible. They are impressive indeed?—?their peaks gleam white with snow & ice, break through low-lying clouds.
The riverbed continues to widen to an impressive span, so that it is easily more than a mile across of braided channels of ice. As the days warm, the ice loosens, begins to move. If we were to follow the many bends & twists in the river’s paths, we would double the distance we travel. Instead, we leap across the narrower streams, lay driftwood logs over others to build temporary bridges.
April 24
We traveled hard today. It’s after midnight, yet we have just set camp & I write by the fire. Earlier Boyd drew our attention to smoke rising out of the spruce trees several miles upriver. It will be a group of the Wolverine Indians we have heard so much about. We approach them with some apprehension, but also with hopes that they will have food enough to trade.
Samuelson saw footprints in the gray mud along the river. Looks as if at least three men, several women & children, travel together. He advises us to salute the Indians with gunshot when we near them. It is a show of greeting & strength. The more rounds we fire, the more respect we earn in their eyes. In turn, the Indians will likely throw a feast in our honor.
I hate to waste the ammunition.
April 25
An unnerving discovery, yet I am not sure how much to draw from it.
This evening as we sought a place to sleep beneath the protection of spruce trees, Tillman came upon a bone. It was broken on one end. Near the break, teeth marks had scraped at the bone, as if the marrow had been sucked. It was weathered, but not so old as to be worn completely clean. Several strands of sinew were still attached. I asked what kind of bone it might be.
?—?Leg of some sort, Samuelson said.
?—?What’s been chewing on it, that’s what I’d like to know, Tillman said.
?—?That there was just voles, whittling away at it, Samuelson said. —?But these here larger marks, I can’t be sure. Porcupine. Fox. Something bigger had to break it open to get at the marrow. Any other sign around?
We followed the sergeant to where he’d found it. Samuelson walked about, crouching now & then to scoop away spruce needles, fallen cones.
?—?Yes sir, he finally said. —?Suspected as much.
In the palm of his hand he held a small plate of bone with strands of long, dark hair attached.
?—?Looks to be part of a skull bone, he said. —?Judging by the small leg bone, it was a child, I would guess.
At this, Tillman let out a yelp, flung the leg bone to the ground.
Samuelson said Midnooskies most likely cremate their dead or cache them in the branches of trees. We found no other sign. I asked him what he made of it. He only shrugged, eyed the ground & nearby trees.
?—?Can’t really say one way or another.
I think we all would have preferred to camp elsewhere, but we had run out of daylight. We unrolled our sleeping bags beneath the spruce trees, built a fire. We had killed no rabbits that day, found no geese, so we each soaked a small piece of hardtack in water. We face a hungry sleep.
For a time we were all silent, so I thought the other men were drifting off to sleep. Tillman was the first to speak up. It’s always Tillman.
?—?Those teeth marks, you think they might have been human?