North

'Me and the boys were poundin' them back...' Joanne Barnaby story inspires poet

A man in Yellowknife, who is going by the name of Paul Mahone, writes a poem about a slightly different wolf encounter...
Joanne Barnaby (left) when she was reunited with her friend Tammy Cauldron. Barnaby was stalked in the bush for 12 hours by a wolf. (Submitted by Joanne Barnaby)

A man in Yellowknife, who is going by the name of Paul Mahone, has written a poem inspired by Joanne Barnaby, the woman who was stalked by a wolf for 12 hours

Mahone tells the story of a slightly different encounter...


Me and the boys were poundin' them back
At the Old Town Wood Yard Pub
We'd had some ales, and told some tales
And shared a plate of grub

I stepped outside to rest my ears
And haul on me old "do din"
When a feller walks by with an empty flask
And a face as black as sin

Says I to him, "are you alright?"
And he stopped and he looked at me
He shook his head, and gravely said
"I've had a night you won't believe."

Despite how he looked, I called him in
To share his tale with the boys
After a drink, he began to speak
We leaned in close with all the noise...

"My name is Pete," said he to we
I come from the Miramichi
Way down east where the salmon run
Up the River from the sea

I retired last year, from the lumbering woods
Where I cut those tall trees down
Came North in June to pick Mor-Els
On the burn outside of town

Started my day, yesterday
With some grub and a flask of hooch
Plenty of 'shrooms, I picked for hours
'n' by noon I'd filled my pouch

The woods were black, from last year's fire
I was covered from head to feet
I'd eat my snack, and take a crack
As soon as I found a seat

After lunch, I lit my pipe
Then I heard a frightful sound
Come from the bush behind my spot
And my heart began to pound

There lurked a wolf as tall as a horse
And long as a railroad car
It glared at me, with head hung low
And its lips were black as tar

I was froze with fear, but got to my feet
And I backed away real slow
But I couldn't run, cause in my path
Was a cub and a mamma sow

I'd had my lunch. It was all gone
"Whattaya want?" I asked
In unison, they all replied
"We want what's in that flask!"

"I had a hunch," the feller said
"If I threw my flask on the dirt
They'd help themselves to every drop
Then have me for desert"

What could I say? What could I do?
I handed over the rum
"Take off the cap," they sneered at me
"We've no opposing thumbs!"

The flask went round, from snout to snout
Even the cub had a pull
"We'll eat you next," said the nasty beasts
"Unless you make this full."

I took the flask from their greedy paws
"No problem," said I to them
"At Barnaby Lake, not far from here
I'll fill it to the brim"

To the lake I went, all by myself
The beasts they were too drunk
I filled the flask with H-2- O
But I knew they'd smell a skunk

With dread I started back up the track
I was sure I'd seen my last
But the beasts were dancing to and fro
'Cause they were completely gassed

"Lay down the flask," they snarled at me
Come join us for a scrub
I danced with the mangy wolf
And the sow danced with her cub

I knew the present revelry
Was surely not to last
I needed a plan to save my hide
And I needed a plan real fast

After we jigged a set or two
"Change partners!" I sung out loud
The wolf grasped claws with the little cub
And I embraced the sow

It only took a heart beat
Before the sow's instincts kicked in
She saw her cub in the clutch of the wolf
So she struck it on the chin

An awful fight did then ensue
Between the beasts all three
And as the wolf took the worst of it
I quietly slipped away

"That's quite a tale," said one of the lads
They sat back with their arms crossed
"But you didn't have to make it up," he said
"My son, we've all been lost!"