THRUMMING

UPPER DEMPSTER HIGHWAY, NORTHWEST TERRITORIES

We drive high up the Dempster in search of caribou. Those mythic tens of thousands said to bolt over the Richardson Mountains. Ankles clicking, hooves beating, setting the cosmos thrumming.

If not caribou, then caribou hunters. They’ll know where the caribou are. A gas station attendant in Teetł'it Zheh tells us to find Randall Tetlichi. As does a seamstress at Tent and Canvas. A Peel River ferry worker says he’s likely camped at Rock River.

Just off the highway near Rock River, we stumble upon a well-stocked bush camp. No Randall. But of course he's out scouting caribou. And to find him, we have to find them.

What folly.

To think you could build a road right through the migration and not force the animals to make scarce.

In the old days
when we still lived our own lives
in our own country
we could hear
as faraway thunder
the caribou approaching
two or three days in advance

Then we did not count the animals, but knew
that when the caribou herd arrived
it would be seven days
before all the animals crossed the river
        - Aqqaluk Lynge