Strong Deer had to work hard at the mink ranch. There were nets to lift, the mink to feed, and the firewood and water to carry for boiling the suckers. Hay had to be cut and dried and stacked in the shed so there would be bedding for the young when they were born. And there was always cleaning to do. But he did not have to work alone. Albert was always with him and there were times when Edna helped as well.

There were good times, too, such as picnics and swimming on the sandy beach in a bay on the south side of Big Island, and dominoes or crokinole with Albert and his wife in the evening when the work was done. It was good to be with them, almost as good as being back in the village with his mother.

If only he could hear from her and find out if the illness of the lungs was getting any better. He wished now that he had been braver about asking the medicine man to consult his sacred axe to see how she was doing. If he came again he would not be so shy about talking to him.

At first, for fear of offending Cunning Fox, he didn't dare to ask if the medicine man came often to the island. He didn't want him to think he was unhappy and wanted to leave. But after a couple of weeks he could control himself no longer. They were mending nets when he found words for the question that had been disturbing him. "When do you think Rabbit Skin will be back?"

Albert stopped what he was doing. "He has been here only once that I can remember. Before he brought you out here, I mean."

Strong Deer's face darkened. The medicine man would not be back at all. He realized that now. He would have no use for the old axe he had hidden in the little building behind the mink sheds. He had filed away the rust and polished it until it shone almost as much as Rabbit Skin's sacred axe. He had been preparing it for the day when the old man would be back. He wished he knew how to get the spirits to show him the future is the side of the axe. He would try to do it himself.

Cunning Fox assumed that he was thinking about a letter from his mother. "We'll be going out to get supplies in a few days. I'll check the mail for you while we're in the village."

The Indian boy did not reply. How could he tell Albert about old Rabbit Skin and the sacred axe head and the spirits that might show him how his mother was doing?

"We pray for your mother every day," the old man said.

Strong Deer smiled gratefully.

"You love her very much, don't you?"

Strong deer looked quickly away, his throat choking. Love her? She was all he had! At times he ached so much for her that he didn't think he could stand it.

Cunning Fox seemed to understand. He said little the rest of the morning, and that afternoon he introduced the boy to sport fishing. "We'll go out and fish like the tourists do, okay.?"

It was more fun than he thought it would be and helped to get his mind off his mother for a little while. But he had already decided what he had to do. The chances were that Rabbit Skin wasn't coming back any more, and he couldn't depend on the praying Albert and Edna did. Their God was too strange. He had to get a spirit helper of his own.

He was glad he had brought some tobacco from Rabbit Skin's house. Albert didn't smoke and he hadn't seen any tobacco on the place since he came. He wouldn't have dared take it, even if there had been any around. The sweet grass was easy enough to get. It grew everywhere.

Once he got the deer as his spirit helper, he would talk to him about making his mother well. He was working now, and would be able to buy knives and mukluks and even a rifle as a gift for the spirit. The more he thought about that the more pleased with himself he became. As soon as he earned enough money he would send out an order for a rifle to Simpson-Sears and put it in the bush for his spirit. There probably wasn't another spirit in all the North who had gotten a new rifle as a gift. An old one, maybe, that was worn out and didn't shoot straight, but a new one! That would make the deer help his mother. He would probably be so pleased that he would make her well and send her home right away.

That night he was uneasy about listening to the Cree radio program that Albert and Edna turned on every night. It had some pretty singing and told about the Jesus who was in the picture in the kitchen. He liked to hear the program but he didn't know what the spirits would think. Just listening to the program might be enough to make them angry and turn them against him more than they were already.

He got out the dominoes as the program came on and dumped them noisily on the table. "How about a game?" he asked.

But Albert made him wait until he broadcast was over. "We can't get to church now that we live out here. This is our church."

So there was nothing for Strong Deer to do except listen. The speaker was saying the same things Albert Cunning Fox told him: "God is Spirit, and we must have his help to worship as we should. I [Jesus] am the Way-yes, and the Truth and the Life. No one can get to the Father except by means of me.

The words took hold of his heart in a way he did not like. He had already made up his mind to seek the spirit of the deer as his helper. Why was his heart filled with such longing because of these things that Albert and Edna and the speaker on the radio talked about?

The next day when his work was finished, he left the house stealthily and went across the island to the place where the sweet grass grew. All night he had been thinking about getting the deer as his spirit and about the curse that had been put upon him.

How many times he wished he hadn't brought the curse on himself and his mother by following the spirit worshipper into the bush and taking the bracelet that had been left there as a gift. He had been only four years old and hadn't really stolen the bracelet. It was pretty, and he thought someone must have lost it. Besides, he had just gotten it in his hand when the man took it away from him.

He didn't know why either the man or the spirits would be so angry that they would punish his mother with the sickness of the lungs. He hadn't even known he was doing anything wrong. He wouldn't be so careless now; knowing how furious the spirits could get.

Halfway across the island he saw a deer watching him from the brush. That was a good omen, Rabbit Skin would say. The spirit of the deer already knew what he was doing and was watching curiously, Strong Deer thought, and wanted to see that everything was done the way it should be.

If it hadn't been for the words Albert had read from the Bible, he would have felt more comfortable in his task. He had never heard such things before. They attracted him so much that he had difficulty in pushing them aside. He began to fear that his thinking about them might anger the spirits so that the deer would not appear to him in his dream.

He was gathering sweet grass when Albert Cunning Fox stepped out of the bush, the corners of his mouth lifted in a smile. "I didn't expect to see you on this side of the island, Strong Deer."

"I-I came to-" The words dribbled away self-consciously. Briefly anger surged. He didn't know why Albert had to be so nosy. Did the old man have to know everything he did?

"Edna insisted I come over this way this afternoon to see if the Saskatoon berries are ripe," Cunning Fox explained. "If I'd known you were coming I could have saved a walk."

Strong Deer still held the sweet grass in his hand sheepishly. Albert took a few strands, worked it between his thumb and forefinger, and commented, "Sweet grass. I often gathered it when I was your age."

The boy hesitated, debating whether to pretend he didn't know what it was. But he couldn't lie to this kind man before him. Even if he could bring himself to try, he could not succeed. Albert was too wise, too discerning.

"You seek for your spirit9"

Strong Deer answered with silence. He could have denied it but it would have been useless. Cunning Fox knew!

"The old ways mean much to us," Albert said. "And many of them are good ways."

"Ehe," the boy murmured. Albert Cunning Fox seemed to understand and he did not criticize. Maybe he had misjudged him. Maybe he did not oppose the spirits after all. Maybe he would help him get the deer as his spirit.

'When I was a boy about the same age that you are, I gathered sweet grass and burned It with tobacco so the spirits would know I was looking for a helper and would begin appearing to me in my dreams. Because of my name I wanted the fox to be my helper."

Strong Deer gasped inwardly. Albert had done the same as he was doing. He was named for the fox so he wanted the fox as his spirit. The boy was named for the deer so he sought the deer to help him.

"I thought I found the spirit of the fox," the man continued.

Strong Deer listened intently. As soon as Albert stopped he was going to ask him how he did it. Maybe he could do the same and get the deer to help him.

"For many years I worshipped the spirits," the mink rancher went on, "but my life was full of sin. I thought the fox was helping me, but my life only got worse." He went over to the lakeshore and sat on a huge rock. "I have to admit that I was a bad man, Strong Deer. It hurts me now when I look back and remember the way I used to live. Then someone told me about Jesus and I began to live for him. He is for the Indians, Strong Deer, as much as He is for the white man. He alone can take away our sins and give us peace in our hearts."

Miserably, Strong Deer crumpled the sweet grass in his tightly clenched fist and slowly let it fall to the ground.