THE ROUND-UP
Spring came, and before the snow was gone, the fawns were born. It was a
cold, cold world that those baby deer came into, but they did not seem
to mind it. Those were busy days for Tuktu and Aklak, for they spent
much time looking up the mother deer to see that their babies were
properly taken care of. Now and then they would find a fawn that had
lost its mother and then would begin a search for the mother. Little by
little the snow disappeared and the big herd began to move toward the
sea. It was heading toward the summer range.
Tuktu and Aklak looked forward eagerly to the summer visit to the
coast--Aklak for the hunting and fishing, and Tuktu for the delight of
watching the sea fowl and hunting for their eggs. Then there was the
great round-up. That was always exciting. Tuktu took no part in it, but
Aklak was big enough now to help. The round-up would occur soon after
the herd reached the coast. Some of the herders had already gone ahead
to prepare the great corral. This was simply a huge pen of brush and
sticks with wings to it, so that as the grazing herd came on, it got
between these wings without knowing it at first, and then kept on going
until the whole herd was in the great pen, called the corral. The
herders would follow and shut them in.
[Illustration]
The families of the herders who had gone ahead were taken with them, so
that the camp was made and everything ready before the arrival of the
deer. The latter had not been driven, but had been allowed to take their
own time, grazing as they went. But they too were eager to get to the
shore, and so they had moved forward quite rapidly.
One morning Aklak came hurrying in with word that the great herd was
approaching. Everybody went out to see the round-up and to help by
seeing that none of the deer were allowed to get outside of the wings of
the corral. The leaders of the big herd unsuspiciously came up over the
brow of a little hill. It was beyond this hill that the great corral had
been built, so that the deer would not see it until they were over the
hill. At first, the herd was widely spread, but as they came within the
wings of the great corral, the fences forced them nearer together, until
as they entered the corral they were closely packed. Once inside, they
began to mill, which is, as you know, to go around and around. It was a
wonderful sight. It would have been still more wonderful had they had
their antlers, but these had been shed and the new ones had but just
started. On the farther side of the corral was a gateway opening into a
very narrow passage, which grew narrower and narrower until it was just
wide enough for one deer to pass through. Into this the herders turned
the milling animals as fast as they could be handled. As the deer came
through this narrow passage, they were counted and the ear-marks were
noted. Of course, there were the ear-marks of several owners in that
great herd and each kept a record of the deer bearing his ear-mark, as
they came through this narrow passage called the “chute.” The fawns
going through with their mothers were roped as they came out of the
chute and ear-marked, each one being given the ear-mark of its mother.
It was very exciting.
Now, could you have sat on the corral fence and seen that great herd of
animals milling within the corral, I am sure you would have held tight
to your seat. You would have been quite sure that no one could go down
inside without being trampled to death. But the deer people are a gentle
people. More than once Tuktu or Aklak, wishing to be on the other side
of the corral, walked right through the herd, the deer making way for
them as they walked.
Perhaps you can guess how eagerly Tuktu watched to see if Speedfoot,
that deer of her father’s, which she was sure the Good Spirit had
chosen, would appear in the herd. She was sure he wouldn’t, but there
would be no convincing Aklak until the last deer had passed through the
chute. Aklak was so busy helping in the marking of the unmarked deer,
that he could not watch all the deer that passed through, but you may be
sure he kept as good a watch as he could.
At last, the round-up was over. All the fawns had been ear-marked. Each
owner had counted his deer and knew just how much his herd had
increased. As soon as there was a chance, Tuktu whispered in Aklak’s
ear, “I told you that Speedfoot was not in the herd. Wait now until the
herd moves up to the Valley of the Good Spirit, and you will find him
there.”
Of course Kutok had been watching for that particular deer. It had been
the pride of his heart the year before, and its disappearance had
worried him. He had thought that somehow it might have been overlooked
on the winter grazing grounds, but when the round-up was over, he knew
that the animal was not in the herd. Then he was torn between fear and
hope. His fear was that the animal had strayed from the herd and been
killed by wolves. His hope was--I do not have to tell you what his hope
was. It was that this summer they would find Speedfoot bearing the
ear-marks of the Good Spirit. To Kutok and to Aklak it was merely a
hope, but to Tuktu it was a certainty. She hadn’t the least shadow of
doubt, and her heart sang for joy.