LISTEN TO THE WOLVES

Steven E. Aavang

Description

Can a man, alone in the Canadian wilderness, in the depths of the worst winter in memory, surrounded by wolves, survive and fulfill his unique destiny?
John has just finished eight grueling years of study in First Nation’s People. His Ph.D. and professorship will happen when he returns from his summer of research and a unique medical mission in the northern reaches of Canada. His background in a small bush town with a legendary bush pilot grandfather raising John gives him a deep understanding of the bush, a strong desire to help the First Nation’s People, and a pilot’s license.
Accompanying him, a young doctor, Sky, by chance, is a childhood nemesis, the daughter of a chief and friend of John’s Grandpa Johnny. They competed on every level and she usually won whether it was a foot race or catching the most fish. Separated by differing life trajectories and cultures for ten years they find themselves sharing this summer mission of four months. A wilderness emergency forces Sky’s departure with a patient before the mission is completed.
John’s return flight home ends in a sudden violent storm. John crashes and faces the dilemma of a lifetime, break a cardinal rule in the bush – stay with the wreckage until found. John also finds his survival in the unforgiving bush requires him to abandon the conventions of civilization and instead rely on the lore and wisdom of the very people he studies. The apex creature of the wilderness is not man, it’s the wolf. To survive John must ‘listen to the wolves’.
But it’s not the haunting howls, the excited yapping of the hunt, or the growls of a pack feeding. It is their harmony, adaptability, and rhythm to the world they live. John must hear their message or perish.

Sujets

• Wolves
• Histoire
• Adventure (Guyana)
• Gray wolf
• Animals
• Adventure
• History
• Fiction

Informations

• Publié par: AuthorHouse
• Date de parution: 24 février 2023
• Nombre de lectures: 1
• EAN13: 9781665546041
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 1 Mo

Extrait

LISTEN TO THE WOLVES
 
WHEN KNOWLEDGE IS NOT ENOUGH
 
 
 
 
STEVEN E. AAVANG
 
 
 
 
AuthorHouse™
1663 Liberty Drive
Bloomington, IN 47403
www.authorhouse.com
Phone: [phone]
 
 
 
 
© 2023 Steven E. Aavang. All rights reserved.
 
No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.
 
Published by AuthorHouse  06/29/2023
 
ISBN: 978-1-6655-4602-7 (sc)
ISBN: 978-1-6655-4603-4 (hc)
ISBN: 978-1-6655-4604-1 (e)
 
Library of Congress Control Number: 2021924026
 
Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.
 
Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.
CONTENTS
Author’s Notes
Prologue—In and with all things we are related
1.A Backwoods Boy–As man moves from nature his heart becomes harder
2.The Place I Call My Hometown–People without history are like the wind over the grass
3.The Hub of the North–May you have warmth in your igloo, oil in your lamp, and peace in your heart
4.Fill the Empty Space in Your Canoe–Listen… your tongue will make you deaf
5.What Is Fair—Is Not a Concern of the Bush  The wolf and the shaman are of the same nest
6.I Hope I Am Glowing Brightly  Knowledge is of the past—wisdom is of the future
7.A Man’s Life Was at Stake–I can be right; I can be wrong; I cannot be neither
8.She Flashed a Knowing Smile  If you are going to walk on thin ice –you may as well dance
9.Not a Good Day to Die–One finger alone cannot lift the tiniest pebble
10.You Must Not Be Afraid of What You Don’t Know  You must be willing to go places—to do things—Where you may not succeed
11.The Beginning Point–No medicine is stronger than bad medicine
12.All That’s Left Is Taking Off and Landing–Man is weak and nature is strong
13.Dying Is What the Caribou Do  The caribou feed the wolf –but it is the wolf that keeps the caribou strong
14.Sky Glanced Nervously over Her Shoulder–Don’t just tell me… show my senses
15.A Defiant, If Foolish, Display of Bravado–You don’t have to be sick to get better
16.I’ll Be Leaving–All people cry… some just don’t show it
17.On Your Own  When something bad happens—use it
18.Suddenly the Trees Parted–Always be afraid of the water, ice, and snow… respect them… you cannot control them
19.The Edge of the Precipice  Day and night do not travel together—nor do life and death
20.Like a Shroud Over the Feathered Shaman–The most savage storm blows itself calm
21.It Is Windigo–Yesterday is ashes; tomorrow is wood; only today burns bright and warm
22.There Is Only One Person to Rely On–Glorious it is when wandering time has come
23.It Was a Lone Wolf  Hope –another word for second chances
24.Survival in the Bush Would Not Come from his World  Certainty can make you as powerful as a bear—doubt can make you as vulnerable as a hare
25.Wolves Don’t Kill for Sport–Hunger makes you a better hunter
26.The Smell of Blood–A starving man will eat with wolves
27.Imagine What Inspired Each Drawing–Follow in my footprints
28.His Life Was in Their Hands  All the beauty will be lost—like snowflakes in the spring
29.Indeed the Wolf Had Answered Him–It is easy to be brave from a distance
30.Every Step Was Agonizing–Seek strength not to be greater than my brother… but to fight my greatest enemy… thyself
31.It Would Be Nice to Sleep Inside  If you find yourself in a hole –stop digging
32.NA-TA-WA… Resting Place–A good memory is good medicine
33.He Heard a Low Menacing Growl  The bravest hunter needs no weapon to fight the polar bear—once
34.Ripples in the Water Became the Tracks of a Beaver  If it has to be done—then it is done
35.The Canoe Heaved Upward–The smooth surface of water may belie the turbulence below
36.He Had Become a Lone Wolf–Do not die trying not to… make it take you by surprise
37.There Was both Fear and Deadly Rage–There is a beast in all of us... To survive you must embrace it
38.Finding the Trail Maker–Death stalks the bush
39.The Blackness Within the Shadow–Like the raven in a storm you must stay in your perch
40.What Did Time Matter?–The sun comes to us new each day
41.The Slow Dance of the North–If it is to be… let it be fast
42.He Paused for a Moment of Reflection–You cannot survive if you chose to be alone
43.It Occurred to Me That I Was Alive–Thank you for letting me learn and make mistakes on my journey… for that’s what makes me the person i am
44.When Are You Going Home?
 
Dedicated To Friend Don Fus and Uncle Johnny Na ylor
 
And of Course the Wo lves
 
AUTHOR’S NOTES
One of the great adventures of my young life was to know my Uncle Johnny Naylor and to have our annual family trips to Canada as I grew up. It was a long 20-hour ride on a two-lane highway that at times was not paved. My dad undertook the trip right after work at 5 p.m. on a Friday night and drove through the night. That way, with the kids asleep in the back of the station wagon, he could drive with minimal traffic and kid noise until the next morning when we would wonder if we were almost there yet. It also saved on meals and motel nights, for there was not a lot of money in those days.
Once we were in Sioux Lookout, Ontario, for my brother and me, juvenile boy adventures meant fishing, flying, and hiking along the rail tracks, which usually involved tracking wild animals, throwing stones, and running under and over the rail structures, usually away from something or someone. Johnny was a young man at that time and enjoyed our exploits. He sometimes joined us but did not have as much time due to the arduous demands of being a pilot. Our trips were always in August after Little League season, which in Sioux Lookout, was at the peak of the fishing season, and he was—well—a bush pilot. But he loved my dad and his lil’ older sis, so he made time for some fun, which usually involved fishing, drinking beer, and flying.
Johnny’s life was so different from our Midwest existence. It was fishing, moose hunting, flying with the Ministries and Mounties to the Eskimo and Indian far-reaching settlements. It was still the edge of the frontier. Aside from his smallish stature, Johnny looked the part of a dashing hero of the bush. He had a mustache for many years, and it had grown to a striking handlebar that he spent more than a little time grooming. It fit him and his personality, rather Errol Flynn-esque. Back then, First Nations members were still called Indians and were not allowed in respectable bars or many other establishments, yet Johnny always had a soft spot for them. He was always bringing home trinkets he had received out of gratitude for something he had done for them at no charge and under threat of losing his job.
It was a rugged, hard life with real danger a part of his everyday life. I remember my mother fretting about him and my dad countering that the work was hard; the life was hard; and the play, therefore, was going to be hard. One story came to us of Johnny being up by the Arctic Circle doing prolonged work in the -20 to -40 degree temperatures. One night after the consumption of excessive amounts of booze, Johnny passed out. His buddies had equally imbibed but not to the point of losing their devilish ways. They proceeded to cut one side of Johnny’s handlebar mustache that night. When Johnny woke up the next morning, he went to stroke his ‘stache as he habitually did and found his face feeling strange, breezy, naked in the frigid air. He quickly found a mirror, saw the razor work, and in a rage went to confront his mates at the breakfast table. They all sat there with big grins on their faces and offered him a beer to pour over his flakes. They all had a good laugh, and Johnny shaved the other side of the handlebar off. He never grew the mustache back, but he never looked back on it either.
A shoulder injury took Johnny out of the bush pilot business, but he just could not get out of the bush or flying. He became a flying fire bomber, which suited him fine. The planes were bigger and less maneuverable or responsive. Still, diving onto a lake to fill a plane with water and then dive-bombing a fire in the forest weren’t bad consolations by his way of thinking. Of course, it was a government job, which had its drawbacks, especially for a man of Johnny’s daredevil background.
When a group of government officials were not sure of the efficacy and accuracy of using planes to douse flames, Johnny was asked to give a demonstration. His skill as a pilot was not lost on the government desk jockeys. Johnny made a great show of the demonstration and saw to it they were all given cigars to enjoy while he went up.
The plane swooped down to the lake and skimmed the surface as it loaded up with water. His plane then rose up majestically into the blue cloudless sky and arced gracefully to the left and then right to line up for its run at a set of flags flapping from the top of selected trees. Johnny bore the plane down, gaining speed as he descended. It appeared he was going to be off-target, so Johnny’s boss was concerned. Johnny was too good to blow it especially at this critical demonstration and under ideal conditions! They had to make