Ojeeg reciprocated. He stepped into the launch, lifted the can of gasoline, and emptied it into the swift stream.
Marvin kept on till he reached the clearing. There he perceived a seated woman, weaving a mat. Before her were two sticks driven into the ground, the fabric of cedar strands between them. She was an old woman, massively built, and her neck was disfigured by a goitre. She was evidently Ojeeg’s mother.
“Bo-jou, bo-jou. Bright River.”
The woman lifted her eyes. In one hand he held his pipe, in the other his club. The pipe and the club were the sacred marks of the bear totem.
“I have come for my Fish.”
The old woman did not seem surprised. Her grandson had informed her of the answer to prayer.
“You come back this evening.”
“That’s a long time to wait.”
“You come back this evening, Mugwuh.”
With perfect dignity she lifted the web once more. Marvin faced about and returned to the shore.