graveyard

THE WHALE THAT WAVED BACK

OLD CHAK'CHAK WAS STANDING IN THE SURF with his net catching smelt fish when he noticed a whale some distance offshore. The whale rolled over in the water slowly and lifted its fin. It was waving. So old Chak'chak lifted his arm and waved too.

The whale must have seen it because it spouted a huge plume of water from its blowhole before swimming away. Old Chak'chak didn't think much of it until he started seeing the whale more often.

Over the next couple of days, he spotted the whale waving from the shore. He spotted the whale waving from the rocks. He spotted the whale while he was on the beach frying fish. Each time, old Chak'chak waved back. The whale would see that and know it was him and spout water.

Then came a horrible storm that ransacked the coast, snapping trees in half, and capsizing any ship that was still out there. Old Chak'chak was sucked out by a big wave while trying to secure his boat to the dock.

He was close to drowning when the whale saw him flailing in the water.

The whale swam underneath old Chak'chak and lifted him up. It carried him faraway to where there was no storm and where the weather was warm. It carried him all the way back when the storm was over and dropped him off in the shallows. Old Chak'chak swam home where his neighbors were surprised to find him still alive.

After getting to shore, old Chak'chak turned and waved. The whale waved back.

PILCHIKAMIN AND THE THREE WHALES

PILCHIKAMIN WAS A VERY FAT AND NAUGHTY SEA OTTER who was so greedy and mean that the other sea otters chased him away from the raft. They had no choice because he wouldn't stop picking their pockets and stealing their rocks.

He swam to a far off place to learn how to behave but since there was no one around except himself he learned nothing.

Then came the middle of the day when all otters sleep, but Pilchikamin was too afraid to close his eyes. There was no one around to hold his paw so he wouldn't float away.

So he swam around getting more and more tired until he came across three sandbars in the middle of the ocean.

Pilchikamin swam to and climbed onto the first one and found it too narrow to lay on. It wouldn't do!

He swam to and climbed onto the second one and found it too broad. If he wanted to enter the water it was farther than just a hop, skip, and a jump away. It wouldn't do!

He swam to and climbed onto the third and found it to be perfect. There was enough room to lay, and to escape, all he had to do was roll off.

Pilchikamin took a nap and didn't notice the sandbars floating slowly up the coast. When he awakened he was very hungry. He was so hungry he didn't notice that he and the sandbars were in a different place than before.

Pilchikamin rolled off. He dived to the bottom of ocean. He came back with a sea urchin covered in spikes and dropped it on the sandbar.

The sandbar cried out, “Hm!”

It scared Pilchikamin so he picked up the urchin and went to the next sandbar over, the broad one. He hurled the urchin down and it rolled across the sandbar leaving pockmarks.

This sandbar cried out too, “Hm, hm!”

It surprised Pilchikamin so he took the urchin back and went over to the narrow one. He smashed it into the sandbar to break off the spines.

That sandbar jumped! “HMMM?”

They were not sandbars at all but sleeping whales and they were waking up! Pilchikamin left the sea urchin and swam away in a hurry.

The whales woke up and wondered how they all got stuck with spines from the same urchin. One even had a dream about a very fat otter.

DOLPHIN-LEGS

THERE WAS A POOR MAN WITH FOUR SONS AND AS HE LAY DYING, he divided all his property among them. The oldest son recieved his house. The second oldest recieved his row boat. The third son recieved his fishing rod. The fourth recieved a chunk of smoked salmon. Their father succumbed soon afterwards so then the oldest kicked the fourth son out because he was the most useless.

The fourth son's name was Amaruq, and he was not angry. He was sad that his father died. He walked along the beach holding the smoked salmon chunk until he couldn't stand the smell of it anymore, and because he was too sad to eat anyway, he threw it as far as he could throw it across the waves.

In the ocean at that exact moment, at the exact place where the smoked salmon chunk sank, was a dolphin languishing for something to eat. The dolphin ate it and became very energized.

Amaruq was crying on the beach. The dolphin beached himself next to Amaruq and said, “Thank you for the fish, small man!”

“You're welcome,” Amaruq replied. He was too sad to care that a dolphin was talking.

“Small man, why are you sad?”

“I don't have a home anymore.”

“I can do something about that,” the dolphin said.

Squeaking loudly, the dolphin wriggled and wiggled and shook. Suddenly, a leg grew out of his left side! Then a leg grew out of his right side! The dolphin bent his knees and stood straight up.

“Call me 'Dolphin-Legs'! Listen to me, I know how to make you rich.”

Dolphin-Legs hatched a plan and insisted it would work. It involved wrapping seaweed around Amaruq's arms, legs, his whole body including his head, hands, and feet.

Amaruq did what Dolphin-Legs instructed him to do and laid down on the sand. He was completely disguised in seaweed. Dolphin-Legs casually paced beside it, scratching at the sand with his feet as the seabirds do.

When all was quiet, along came a funeral procession of giant sea otters. The sea otter chieftain had just died. The prince, the prince's uncle, and the whole tribe were mourning their dead chief.

Dolphin-Legs stuck his feet in the seaweed and tickled the hidden Amaruq with his toes. Amaruq laughed.

Dolphin-Legs pointed a fin to the prince and shouted, “Hey, why are you laughing at your father's funeral?”

“I didn't!” Argued the accused.

“You would!” Said the uncle.

“I never lie,” lied Dolphin-Legs.

The giant otters fought. The prince was killed by his uncle who bashed him with a boulder from his enormous pocket. The dead otter was left on the beach, it looked like a large fallen tree. After the funeral, the tribe left with their newly appointed chief, the uncle.

When all was quiet again, there came a monster sea lions' birthing celebration. The monster chieftain's wife had born a hefty son and today was the naming ceremony.

Dolphin-Legs walked into the noisy herd. No sea lion minded him because their skin was so thick not even a polar bear could pierce it, and anyway a dolphin's teeth were tiny. So while he was among them, Dolphin-Legs managed to find out everyone who was lounging around the newborn pup. There was the mother, the sisters, the chief, and the chief's brother.

The loud barking simmered down until it was a soft rumble as the chief prepared to speak so Dolphin-Legs returned to the unsuspecting seaweed bed nearby and tickled Amaruq with his toes.

The hidden man laughed.

Dolphin-Legs pointed a fin at the brother and shouted, “Hey, why is the chief's brother laughing?”

All the monster sea lions in the herd began to bark. Excitement quickly turned into fury as unfounded rumors spread across their heads, everything from thinking the newborn was hideous to a planned asassination.

“They're all lies!” The chief's brother wobbled backwards.

“I didn't lie. I never lie,” lied Dolphin-Legs.

The monster chieftain had his brother executed. He was smashed to death by the herd's heaviest sea lions. The dead sea lion looked like an outcropping of rock.

After it was quiet again and the monstrous herd left, Dolphin-Legs told Amaruq to free himself.

The young man was amazed and astonished to see both a giant sea otter and an enormous sea lion both lying dead on the beach. His face was covered so he was a witness to none of it. Even the commotion was muffled.

Dolphin-Legs pranced around excitedly.

“Now listen to me, small man! You sell the fur and meat to the fisherman at the wharf for the first price offered to you and then bring the money back here.”

Amaruq did as he was told. He received a joke sum less than what the furs and meat were worth, but still he was glad to be rid of such grisly things. The young man returned assuming he was to split the money with the dolphin.

Dolphin-Legs had other ideas. The dolphin took the money, threw it in the air, and danced in it. He bade Amaruq to join him so they did and that was fun, until some pirates attracted to the shining and glittering captured them as slaves.

On the pirate ship, they were forced to peel potatoes and scrub the deck.

While scrubbing around, Amaruq with a mop and Dolphin-Legs with a rag on his foot, the dolphin would randomly kick the captain whenever his back was turned.

“Ow!” The pirate captain would say. “Who kicked me?”

“It wasn't us,” Dolphin-Legs would respond.

“It was you!”

“Hey, I'm not the only one with legs for kicking. Look, it was probably him!” And Dolphin-Legs would point his fin towards the nearest shipmate.

“It wasn't me!” The shipmate would say.

To which Dolphin-Legs would cleverly refute. “Who are you going to believe? Me, a dolphin with legs, or a pirate?”

And the captain using his own wise judgement would stab whoever it was.

This went on until the captain stabbed his entire crew, and then Dolphin-Legs kicked him overboard.

Now Amaruq had the whole ship and everything on it including the money the pirates stole earlier.

“See, small man! I told you I knew how to make you rich,” Dolphin-Legs squeaked and then he jumped into the ocean and was never seen from again.

At least this is how the story goes as to how this coastal town was founded. It is said Amaruq returned the pirate's stolen goods to the people and out of gratitude they elected him their mayor. Honestly, if the tale were told by a dolphin with legs then it would probably be more believable.

THE SKINWALKER'S SON

PWAU'S MOTHER SUPPOSEDLY DIED THE DAY HE WAS BORN so the only parent he knew was his father Mesachie, who possessed the status of village chieftain by marriage, and because the people were afraid. Mesachie was a powerful shaman and many members of the tribe suspected he was even a skinwalker.

That is to say, everything they thought of him was true. Chief Mesachie was was a skinwalker. He was dark and terrible, like smoke from a lightning fire, like a cloud of hot ash. He sucked the life-breath from people's bodies just by being near them. People were also afraid of his familiars, a crow with clipped wings, a beaver with no teeth, and a bear without claws, who reported to him all their conversations and doings.

While the chief was evil, his son Pwau was the opposite.

Pwau was soft and kind-hearted, warm like the summer, with eyes like the stars and hair like the night. But because they feared the chieftain so much no one dared to speak with him let alone spend any time with the boy. Pwau spent most of his days doing chores, stoking the fire, and caring for his father's animal familiars.

Instead of learning the ways of his father, Pwau learned his own ways. He mended the crow's wings with found feathers. He ground fresh twigs, bark, and water lilies into paste for the beaver. He carved new claws and wove them into mittens for the bear.

The time came when Chief Mesachie felt the pangs of old age in his back and knees. While he gathered plants and mushrooms in the field, he found that he could not walk as far or as fast. He bent by the pond for water and saw his wrinkled visage, his ashen hair, and cloudy eyes. Chief Mesachie had always envied the youth and vigor of his son Pwau and so, devised a plan to kill him and wear his skin like a hide.

The animals overheard Chief Mesachie's dark thoughts and alerted Pwau at once who took to the woods and ran.

Chief Mesachie son returned, and when he did not see Pwau, kicked cinders from the dying fire at the crow. “Why did you not stop my son?”

The crow lay there choking, “You would have me crippled, and then Pwau took care of me.”

In a rage, Chief Mesachie wrung the crow's neck.

He came to the river, and when he did not see any signs of Pwau, kicked sand at the beaver. “Why did you not stop my son?”

The beaver lay there gasping,“You would have me crippled, and then Pwau took care of me.”

In a rage, Chief Mesachie smashed the beaver's head against a stone.

He arrived at the edge of the forest, and when he could not find Pwau's trail, hurled a log at the bear. “Why did you not stop my son?”

The bear lay there, groaning, “You would have me crippled, and then Pwau took care of me.”

In a rage, Chief Mesachie kicked the bear until it died.

The old skinwalker was relentless in his search and chased Pwau all the way to the edge of the world where the boy was stopped by rocky cliffs.

There, Pwau jumped into the ocean and joined a pod of seven whales.

In a rage, Chief Mesachie jumped too, having forgotten that he had killed all of his familiars. He did not have the crow's lightness, he did not have the beaver's buoyancy, or the bear's strength. He fell, tumbled across the rocks, and died.

THE SLEEP SWIMMER

WHEN I WAS A TEENAGER my high school was across from a historical cemetary and there was a guy in my class who could swim while he was asleep. I had just moved there so the fact that people could do things other than walk and dream in their sleep was news to me. I was also surprised to find that I was the only one introducing myself at the front of the class while everyone else knew who everybody was.

I sat down and that was the first thing they told me about. A guy in a sports jacket (to protect their identities I'll call them by what they were wearing), leaned over and tapped my desk with a pencil. “Hey, did you know that this guy over here can swim in his sleep?” Sporty pointed to someone in a seat diagonal from mine. It was a big guy in a plaid flannel.

Plaid heard them mention his name and ducked down, sort of hunched over, shy from the attention. He shot a quick acknowledging glance over his shoulder.

I didn't think they meant what they said literally. I supposed that this was probably their way of vetting the new kid so I kept my skepticism to myself and agreed to come see a demonstration later after school. I kept my face neutral, I acted like I was barely interested, bored with nothing better to do. Just real, real chill.

They snuck me into the gym after school and we went straight to the swimming pool where a small handful of them were standing around Plaid. I kept my distance in case they were planning to push me into the pool.

A guy in sweats had the bottle of sleeping pills. Whenever there's drugs involved there's trouble but Sweats assured me it wasn't anything illegal.

“It's homeopathic.” Sweats showed me the label up close, which listed melatonin, valerian, root, chamomile, whatever. “And they're vegan.”

The bottle smelled very strongly of dirt and herbs. They fed two pills to Plaid and another two pills to a guy in skinny jeans. Jeans was the 'control' of the experiment so that I'd know the pills were legit. Plaid and Jeans laid down on the ground by the pool using their bunched up hoodies as pillows. Within a half hour they were asleep.

I picked up Jeans's arm by the sleeve and dropped it. He was snoring peacefully.

Plaid seemed asleep but one of his eyes seemed open.

“He's not really asleep yet, is he?”

Sporty rolled over Plaid. His limbs flopped. His breathing was deep and sound. “That's just how he sleeps,” Sporty explained. “He always sleeps with an eye open.”

Me, Sporty, Sweats, and another kid I'll call Fleece, picked up Plaid by his shoulders and feet. Plaid was a lot heavier and denser than he looked. We gently lowered him into the pool.

Inwardly I hoped it was all a joke because I didn't want to see anyone drown. I didn't want to be an accessory to murder. I went over CPR protocol from health class in my mind as I watched his body sink to the bottom. “Okay, let's get him out.”

“Shh, he's fine,” whispered Sporty.

We crouched down on the edge of the pool and watched Plaid push up and away. He swam slowly across the bottom of the pool and then surfaced. I heard him softly inhale, exhale, and inhale. He swiped at the water ahead one arm at a time and with a slight twist of his body propelled forward with a lazy kick. It was the most relaxed sidestroke I had ever seen. His one-eyed look hadn't changed at all.

“Do we leave them like this?” I wasn't convinced Plaid was really asleep but Jeans was definitely snoring, and Plaid had already completed three laps while we were sitting there. He was a really good swimmer.

Before anyone could answer me, the gym teacher burst though the doors, “Not! Again! Get out! Get!”

We scrambled for our bags and split up for different exits so he wouldn't catch us, but he didn't give chase. I heard him dive into the pool and drag Plaid out of the water.

I left before I could get in trouble but the last thing I heard was the gym teacher slapping Plaid all over the face, “Wake up! Wake up!”

PUBLIC RECORD

THERE IS A PLAQUE IN THE HOSPITAL that says the largest live birth they had was “18 kilos” with a newspaper clipping from 1888 describing a child who was “almost fully grown” after a gestation period of eighteen months. The baby was born with teeth and a full head of hair.

GRANNY BLACKFISH

A WOMAN STRICKEN BY ILLNESS DIED AND LEFT BEHIND HER WIDOWER JAMES, A FIFTY YEAR OLD MAN, AND SEVENTEEN YEAR OLD SON CHARLES WHO WAS THEIR ONLY CHILD. With no mother to rein his actions, the boy grew prone to drinking, gambling, and other bad habits. Eventually, the crux of his addictions led to a fatal crescendo at the bar. He got into a fight with the wrong man and died. The man and his friends were sailors who stopped in town to resupply. They left in a hurry as though offended. Eyewitnesses said it was an accident, that it was only a rough tumble, that Charles broke his neck in falling.

James believed their story until they left him alone with the body. While washing blood and broken glass bits away, he found a slim wound hidden in the armpit that could only have come from a knife. “That sly, dirty seadog!” The poor widower cried. And he ran out only to catch a glimpse of their ship as it sailed over the horizon. He fell to his knees in anguish, pounding the sand with his fists. “I worked hard all my life and my wife died. I tried to be a good father and now my son is dead. I would give anything for vengeance.”

The dry rumpled sand beneath him suddenly became smooth and damp. Heavy foot steps, and a soft crunch of something puncturing ground captured his attention. James looked up to see a large, old woman using a harpoon for a walking cane. “Who are you?”

“Why, James! It's me, your own grandmother. Don't you recognize me?” Suddenly she looked and sounded very familiar. “Is something wrong?”

Nodding, James wiped his teary eyes on his sleeve. “My son was killed and now his murderer sails away. I don't know how to avenge him.”

“Why, you only need to ask me nicely! Your old Granny Blackfish!” She embraced him.

A great and terrible urge to sob violently welled up inside him and he clutched her robes to weep but no tears fell. He felt all his grief disappear. “Granny Blackfish! Granny Blackfish, teach me how to find a man,” the poor widower asked.

“You must wait for twenty years for the murderer to come back here,” Granny Blackfish answered. In the meantime, bury your son next to his mother. Eat, drink, fish, throw your scraps into the ocean as if nothing ever happened.”

She disappeared and the sand beneath him dried, but his clothes were wet as though he'd been walking in the surf.

James did everything she told him to. For twenty years, he waited, and lived as though he never had a son who was murdered. Most of the people in town forgot he ever had a son. He was by then, a very old fisherman who came to the pub sometimes, who offered to help at the restaurants in exchange for cooked meals, and who threw buckets of scraps off his boat twice a day. No one even saw the whales that came to feed off of the bits and entrails he had saved from cleaning the town's fish and cockles.

Finally the day came when an all too familiar ship dropped anchor in the harbor and the whole crew, including the murderer who was now a captain, aged but still recognizable, landed. James could hear them talking and carousing for hours. They even walked past him without so much as glance while he was sitting at the market shucking oysters. Not even when the sight of the murder made him drop his knife and knock over his bucket. They were a very merry bunch, still able-bodied and strong while he was bent-backed and feeble. He wanted very much to stab the man with his blunt shucking knife but too many of the ship's crewmen were around and could easily stop him if he tried. He shook too fiercely with anger to do any work so excused himself for the day. The time passed, and all he could do was sit at home in agony, but he knew that the ship would soon pull anchor with its crew.

When James couldn't bear his suffocating anger any longer he visited the beach.

The sand beneath his worn boots turned to grainy muck. Granny Blackfish appeared, and at once he grasped her cold hands. His anger was gone and so he was able to breathe again. “Granny Blackfish! Granny Blackfish, teach me how to catch a man,” the poor widower asked.

“Hire him. He'll stay longer and go wherever you command him to go as long as you pay him generously,” she answered. “Pay him with your life's savings for a whale.”

She disappeared again and James hobbled through the sand, back to his house, where he gathered all his money. During the years the town's fishing industry boomed and even the smallest ventures were lucrative. He had earned more than enough to sustain himself just by helping others cleaning and preserving fish.

Everyone was so surprised to see that the old man had so much money that they were not taken aback by his order to hunt a whale. It so happened that there were still whales that time of year swimming along the coast, hunting, and getting fat off of salmon.

James paid them and promised them the other half of the sum when they delivered. They were lied to, of course, since he gave them everything he had at the beginning.

In the morning they waited on the shore with nets and harpoons at the ready. They set out in boats when they spotted flukes in the water.

James stood on the shore to watch them. It was his deepest desire, that the murderer and every man out there with him would perish. As he stood there the sand underneath him eroded away, pulled by water, and Granny Blackfish appeared. She stabbed the soft, wet sand with her cane.

“Granny Blackfish! Granny Blackfish, teach me how to kill men,” the poor widower asked.

“There are many ways to kill men,” she answered. “You can take away their joy, their time, or their freedom. What will it be?”

“Their freedom.” As soon as he decided, his hatred was gone, and he regretted it.

As soon as she vanished there arose a great cry from the sailors in the distance. The ocean suddenly boiled and all the boats tipped over, spilling each man into the water where he floundered about helplessly. The whales swarmed around them, biting off their hands, feet, and legs. When they were rescued by local fisherman most of them were half-dead and their captain, the murderer himself, fell sick when his wounds festered and became blind. Each man became a pauper after their earnings were spent on doctors and could not leave the town. When they sought for reparations from the old man James, they found him dead, and tore up his home only to find out that he was penniless.

GRANNY BLACK-FISH

A LIGHTHOUSE KEEPER AND HIS TWO YOUNG CHILDREN, TWINS WHO WERE BORN MIRACULOUSLY DURING THE TWILIGHT OF HIS YEARS, LIVED together in a small cottage nigh the cliff. He was a widower who raised them, a son and a daughter, alone.

The little daughter was meek and mild. She stayed at home and different women of the town would come visit to teach her their ways. The little son was lively and curious. He ran down to the market everyday to ask vendors questions and see the fishermans' catch of the day.

One morning the son was pestering sailors at the dock. Annoyed by his antics, the first mate shoved him. He hit his head on a moored boat and bled as he fell into the water. They boarded their ship and sailed off. The fishermen pulled him out but it was too late, and the little boy died.

The townspeople brought the body to the lighthouse keeper and told him what had happened.

He received it into his arms and touched the blood still running from the boy's pale head. The keeper was silent and remained so until everyone left. The keeper wept with his teeth clenched for many days. He ate naught, he drank naught, and refused to look at his daughter.

When the keeper finally left his house it was to bury the body at night in the dark. He was thin and sick with grief. By now, the ship that carried his son's murderer was far, far away. He swore to give anything for vengeance. So he called for Granny Black-Fish.

He beheld Granny Black-Fish rising out of the billowing ocean, plodding towards him through the sea smoke with her cane, which was a rusty old harpoon. “Thou willt,” quoth she. “Ask of me and it is thine.”

“Granny Black-Fish! Prithee, help me! How do I catch my son's murderer?” Cried the lighthouse keeper.

“Betimes he will return,” she spake. “In twenty years, yea, he will.”

Granny Black-Fish disappeared and so did his grief.

The lighthouse keeper waited twenty years. In that time, the town's memory of his great tragedy faded and his daughter grew to be a woman. She was quite fair. She had many suitors but turned each one away to work and care for her aging father. He was wont to sit on the beach and watch the ocean stoically.

Twenty years to the day, he saw the ship carrying his son's murderer drop anchor as Granny Black-Fish promised. Feelings of rage stirred up within him and he trembled. He could not stand because he trembled so, and sat there in agony as the day passed until it seemed that the ship was ready to leave again. He fell to his knees on the sand clutching his heart and swore to give anything for vengeance. “Granny Black-Fish! Granny Black-Fish, help me! How do I keep my son's murderer from ever leaving here?”

And he lifted his head and beheld Granny Black-Fish rising out of the billows again, and came to him with raiments dripping with water. “Give him your daughter's hand,” she spake. “Let them marry, yea, he will be thine.”

Granny Black-Fish disappeared and his anger disappeared also.

It happened so that the daughter saw her father lying on the beach and came running from a distance away. The murderer saw her and was smitten by her image. He stayed to woo her and eventually after a romance blossomed, they approached the lighthouse keeper to invite him to their wedding.

The lighthouse keeper accepted it. So his daughter married the man and soon bore a child. Their family was happy.

The lighthouse keeper's heart grew black with hatred and swore to give anything for vengeance. He shouted over the billows once more, “Granny Black-Fish! Granny Black-Fish, help me! How do I kill my son's murderer?”

“Thou mayest take his joy, his time, or his freedom,” quoth Granny Black-Fish. “Which will it be, of the many ways there art?”

“His joy.” As soon as the lighthouse keeper chose, all hatred left him, and he was filled with bitterness instead.

“Give me thy grandchild,” she spake. “Henceforth, thy son-in-law will never have joy.”

The lighthouse keeper bore away the child at dawn.

The mother awoke in alarm, perhaps by some dream, to find the crib empty. Hysterical, she implored her husband to search. He searched everywhere for the whereabouts of their child and only heard the crying. He followed the crying sounds to the cliff.

There he witnessed the lighthouse keeper cast the infant into the ocean and at the bottom, a whale caught it in its mouth and ate it.

DARK OCEAN

Far, faraway, at the edge of the world, there is a frozen land that once was an ocean. The days there are bright and blinding. The nights there are long and almost unending.

Some say it is the first ocean while others say it will someday be the last. For the sake of the living, it must remain frozen, for what was imprisoned there long ago, deep in the deepest mountain of ice.

It is known as the Dark Ocean.

So everyone knows there are tribes of orca that only hunt seals, that there are tribes of orca that only hunt salmon, and tribes that only hunt sharks. These are the tribes that swim freely in the oceans today.

There was even a tribe that hunted humans. They did it though it was forbidden. That tribe refused to eat what they were originally portioned and instead ate human flesh. It was forbidden because orcas are the spirits of dead humans. That is to say, it is the same as eating one's own.

The spirits of humans eaten by this tribe later become a part of it, joining in the hunt for human flesh, craving it and stopping at nothing to gain it. But because humans live on land, the hunt is more difficult. They must draw their prey to the water by any means of trickery and deceit. They are cunning and they are wily, but the wiliest and most cunning of them is Granny Blackfish.

At first the other tribes practiced apathy and avoidance because they were disgusted. So they and the other tribes crossed paths many times peaceably until, that tribe grew bigger and bigger and bigger and bigger.

Less boats floated on the water. Less campfires were lit on the land. Granny Blackfish's tribe had grown while the number of humans shrank.

Chief Salmon-Eater came upon Granny Blackfish in his hunting grounds one day as she and her tribe picked apart the drowned corpses from a long fishing boat. Not wanting to seem disrespectful, he hailed her.

“Pleased to see you,” said Chief Salmon-Eater. It was a lie, but the polite kind.

“It is good to look upon your face,” she replied warmly.

That would normally end the conversation when he noticed that there were only traces of two fishermen to the longboat instead of three, and asked, “What will you do when there are no more humans?”

“I don't know,” Granny Blackfish replied. “What will you do when there are no more salmon?”

Chief Salmon-Eater supposed that he would starve then die then he swam away.

Later a different Chieftain came upon that tribe eating a child in the shallows at the mouth of a river.

Afraid, but too prideful to flee as though he were, Chief Seal-Eater hailed Granny Blackfish.

“Pleased to see you,” said Chief Seal-Eater.

“It is good to look upon your face,” she said cheerfully.

He wavered there only to look for seals. All that was left on the rocks was a basket of shellfish the child had scavenged. He noticed there were no mothers.

“What will you do when there are no more humans?” He asked her.

“I don't know.” She replied. “What will you do when there are no more seals?”

Chief Seal-Eater supposed he would starve and die then swam away, leaving Granny Blackfish to ponder the fate of her tribe if there were no more humans left to eat.

Later that day Chief Shark-Eater happened upon Granny Blackfish as she and her tribe were swimming in circles the middle of nowhere. He hailed her out of respect because she was the chief of her tribe.

“Pleased to see you,” he said.

“It is good to look upon your face,” she said happily.

Because sharks travel a long distance, Chief Shark-Eater was used to being alone this far away from land while hunting them. He was not used to seeing anyone here or this many, and neither had he seen any of the great wooden ships humans sailed lately, so he asked, “What will you do when there are no more humans?”

“I don't know...” She replied. “What will you do when there are no more sharks?”

Chief Shark-Eater supposed he would starve and die, but before he swam away he heard Granny Blackfish say, “My tribe will not starve. My tribe will not die. As long as we live we will eat.”