A small-wheeled artillery gun is rolled off the barge by two officers. The gun is pointed at the camp, loaded quickly and the officers stand for orders. One policeman carries an axe to the over-turned canoes and small fishing boats, smashing holes through their birch bottoms. She looks to her canvas tent and moves as fast as she can. She disappears inside and finds her husband already half dressed.
Men are here with guns.
The old woman bundles her sleeping grandchild and cuts a slit in the back of the tent. I'll take the little one to the place where we camped last summer. Muskwa picks up the large silver medallion given to him by the Queen's Treaty commissioners and hangs it around his neck, as he steps out. A few dozen men, women, and old people emerge from their tents with their rifles held high, moving slowly to the camp's center. Bring your guns here and wait.