“The spirit of Ma’iingan stood on the Path of Souls but did not want to make the journey yet. He cried out to Kitchimanidoo, imploring the Great Spirit to let him stay a little longer in Noopiming, to keep safe the young woman, to fulfill his promise to her. Kitchimanidoo heard the good man’s plea. The spirit of Ma’iingan was given the shape of a gray wolf, for that was his totem, and allowed to return.
“In the meantime, brave hunters from several tribes had joined to track the majimanidoo. The evil spirit was powerful and many hunters lost their lives. And all the while, the majimanidoo drew closer and closer to the young woman. But Ma’iingan, in the form of the wolf, prowled the woods, guarding and guiding the woman, keeping her just out of reach of the evil that tracked her. Not until the hunters finally killed the majimanidoo and the woman was safe did the noble spirit of Ma’iingan begin the journey to the Land of Souls.
“But the wisdom of Kitchimanidoo grants the return of Ma’iingan in the shape of his brother the wolf whenever there is someone in Noopiming in need of help. And you can still hear the voice of Ma’iingan raised with his brothers, singing in the wilderness, in the land he loved so well.”
Louis stepped back, and his father laid a hand proudly on the boy’s shoulder.
“What a good man leaves behind him is forever,” Henry Meloux said. “Until the trees no longer touch the sky, Grandmother Earth and her children will hold with respect the memory of Wendell Two Knives.”
The snow fell softly on Meloux and melted. Drops gathered along the deep lines of his skin and reflected the firelight in a way that made the old midewiwin’s whole face seem aflame as he spoke in the language of The People:
K’neekaunissinaun, ani-maudjauh.
K’neekaunissinaun, cheeby-meekunnaung.
K’neekaunissinaun, kego binuh-kummeekaen.
K’neekaunissinaun, k’gah odaessiniko.
Our brother, he is leaving.
Our brother, on the Path of Souls.
Our brother, do not stumble.
Our brother, you will be welcome.