Page 43 of The Spirit of the Wolf
“Yes.”
“Tell me. From what you see here, would you say this land needs these trees?”
“Well…”
“Why take what these saplings offer when they are required to remain here for the overall good and survival of the land?”
“Because they’re convenient?”
“Ahhhh,” he said. “You say they are convenient. But think again. If you do this, if you take the lives of these young trees, what will you leave for your children, and their children?”
Unconsciously, Marietta wrinkled her brow. “Does it matter?”
Grey Coyote jerked his chin to the left. “Of course it matters. Others will come after you. If you leave nothing but waste for those who follow, you are ignoring your greatest duty.”
“But—”
“Is it good and right to steal from your grandchildren to satisfy yourself today?”
“I… But look at all the wood which is here. The land is for use. Other trees will grow here eventually. I don’t see—”
“Will other trees grow?”
She hesitated, and he pressed forward. “The forest I seek is near here, and it is overcrowded. There are bushes and trees there that are in competition, and some will not live. Some are already dead. It is there I will find what I need to make the arrows. If I take from here, I will hurt the land.”
“But…I thought you needed to arrive at the trading post in a timely manner.”
“I do.”
She tilted her head to the side. “Well?”
“And because I hurry, this would justify stealing from my grandchildren?”
Marietta didn’t answer. This was the first time this argument had ever been proposed to her.
“Hiya,” he said, when she remained subdued. “I cannot take what I need from these young trees and bushes. We will go to the forest I mentioned. The way is not far.”
Marietta frowned. “But, Grey Coyote, I protest this. It’s senseless. You have a duty. I have a duty. Between us, we have so little time. Please consider fashioning your arrows here, while I continue to make food. Besides, we’re only talking about a tree.”
“Ahhhh.” He elongated the sound. “And is the spirit of the tree less than that of a man?”
“Of course it is.”
“Is it?” he asked. “Who says it is? You? Man? Did you ask the tree if it thinks its spirit is less than yours?”
She pulled a face. “Ask the tree?”
“Is it not life? Does it not obey all the laws of life? Because it does not speak as we do does not mean it is not alive, or is less a spirit, or that it doesn’t in some way communicate.”
“But—”
“Look around you again.”
She did so, though with some impatience.
He asked, “Do you see how parched is this land?”
“Yes.”
