“Here my story ends,” said Running Dog, “but I shall long remember the events of that Race with Death.”
THE STORM
In the Algonquin tribe, Masequah had grown to manhood through the many winters and summers that his tribe lived in peace. He was a very tall, strong and good-looking Indian brave. He was bravest of all in battle, a good hunter, and a good husband to his wife, Senan, and their son, Pyan. Masequah was very proud of his son. As the baby grew, his mother no longer had to carry him upon her back. Soon Masequah was able to walk hand in hand with Pyan through the forest.
As his son grew older, Masequah began to train him for manhood. One day Masequah and Pyan stepped into a canoe and paddled across the wide lake to look for berries and nuts. Pyan was now seven years of age, and his training had begun in earnest. While they were on the other shore, a great storm arose, and the wind brought huge angry waves to the lake. Masequah feared that their light canoe would be broken by the waves. He told Pyan that it would be much safer to stay where they were until morning.
They found a small cove that would give them some shelter. Then they started hunting for food, while the rain beat down on them. Pyan spotted two rabbits, and his father shot both of them. Then they went back to the cove, found dry wood, and built a fire to cook the rabbits. Masequah and Pyan settled themselves as comfortably as they could for the long night.
The winds began to blow even harder and the rain began to fall more heavily. Pyan snuggled closer to his father’s side to keep warm. As the warrior looked at his son, he saw fear in his son’s eyes. Masequah had taught his son that Indians were never afraid, but suddenly he realized that lessons were not enough. Even an Indian needed to understand the thing he feared in order to drive fear away.
“Don’t be afraid, Pyan,” he said kindly. “The rain that falls around us brings strength to food we have planted and to the trees in the forest. At the worst, it can only wet us. We are too wise to battle the wind on the lake. The bright bolts of lightning could not strike us here easily in this cove, and the thunder is only a loud noise like a war drum. There is nothing to fear.”
As Masequah watched his son’s face in the flickering light of the fire, he knew that his words had been of little comfort. “I want to go home,” said Pyan, “I want my mother and the warmth of my bed. I am afraid.”
“Don’t be afraid, Pyan,” Masequah said, “your father is with you.”
“Can you stop the lightning?” asked Pyan. “Can you stop the rain? That will stop my fear. The wind that is blowing so strong frightens me.”