LAKE OF THE SWANS
Book 2 of 3
Chapter 58
Led by their de-facto-Patriarch and Matriarch, the clan set themselves to task. John was designated as the clan’s full-time hunter. Elkhart, Harley, Anders, Onak, and Julian were tasked with building the longhouse. They had begun by harvesting the largest logs available (after the first haul, Elkhart appointed John as the clan’s hunter, and therefore, Anders took over the management of the giant in the hauling of logs). Once Ellie could be spared, Jessie, Mia, Fischer, Cody, and Rowe had taken her and a team of dogs three days south, where, having set up camp in a birch grove, they harvested birchbark and packed it back to base camp. At base camp, Fischer, Julian, Cody, and Rowe dug strips of sod from nearby glades and staged the rolls along with the birchbark until ready for use. Once the roof was framed, the birchbark would serve as a waterproof underlayer for the sod. A roof of birchbark and sod would provide excellent insulation, especially when covered with snow.
To feed thirty-one humans and canines, John needed to harvest one caribou a day or close to it, depending on other resources like fish and fowl. To avoid driving the caribou away, he did his utmost to harvest with minimal disruption to the herd. Cody was designated as the clan’s small game hunter. Jessie and Rowe were the clan’s fishers. The many streams and lakes teemed with brook trout, lake trout, arctic grayling, whitefish, walleye, and pike. Jessie, Mia, Laureal, and Rowe were the gatherers. They gathered and stored whatever seeds, nuts, grains, and herbs could be found deep in the north. And always there were wintergreen berries. Laureal was not allowed to go on trips of any real distance from camp. Cody, however, went with the women to hunt the area while they fished and gathered. And in such outings, Cody carried the rifle in case of a bear or wolf encounter. The dogs were always taken on such trips, for even on their leashes, their presence and perhaps even their wolf blood were powerful deterrents to predators.
Emma, Jessie, Mia, Laureal, Rowe, and Sophie worked to process the food. Fischer was the clan’s smoker of meats and fish. Onak, Julian, and Cody were slated to dig a cold storage cellar. A large quantity of pemmican was to be made. Bear fat was to be rendered into lard for pemmican, oil for lamps, and lye soap to control the lice. Jessie, Laureal, Mia, and Fischer were to be the tanners. Emma, Jessie, Mia, Laureal, Rowe, and Sophie were to be the tailors and seamstresses, making caribou coats, pants, boots, and tents.
To build the dog sleds, additional trips would be made to the birch grove in the south to gather the needed hardwood. And after the sleds were made, the plan was for Elkhart, Anders, and Onak to train the dog teams. Cody, Rowe, Noah, and Sophie were charged with feeding the canines and cleaning their area. And because the dogs could not be allowed to run free, in which case they might chase game away, or worse, revert to the wild, turns would be taken to ensure they received daily exercise in teams, roped up as if pulling sleds, even though sleds were yet to be made.
Harley and Onak were to make extra arrows and spears for the journey across the barren lands. Any clan member could be shuffled to help with any task deemed necessary by the clan’s de facto Patriarch and Matriarch. And all were aware they had just four months to prepare before the caribou mustered for their northward trek.
“Are we ready?” asked Elkhart, squatting to grasp a pine pole near its end. At the opposite end, Harley did the same, “One, two, three…roll!”
Rolling the pole, the two men pushed it up a ramp consisting of two poles that leaned against a wall, which would be part of the family’s longhouse when completed. At the top of the wall, Andres and Julian pulled with ropes while the men below continued to push with the aid of forked sticks. Getting the pole into position, Anders and Julian set to work with hatchets, chopping out notches on either end. It was the last pole. The walls of the longhouse were complete. The construction of the roof would come next.
Presently, Harley turned to Elkhart, his expression one of well-earned satisfaction, “Not bad so far. At least, for a quick-made thing.”
Atop the wall, Anders spoke as he chopped, “Nothing a little mud can’t fix,” referring to the gaps between the logs that would need to be chinked with mud.
“Speaking of chinking,” said Rutin, and turning, he stepped around the corner of the structure to check on Onak’s progress—
“How’s it going, Mr. Onak?”
“Good so far,” Onak replied, a wooden trowel in one hand, a basket of mud in the other.
Elkhart looked on as the Inuk scooped mud from a bucket-like basket, pushed it into a gap, and finished by troweling it smooth.
“You do that like a professional.”
“I was a slave for ten years.”
Turning away, Elkhart did a sudden about-face, “Onak.”
“Yeah.”
“If you need to warm your hands over the fire, don’t hesitate.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it. You’ll be no good to anyone if your fingers freeze.”
Being familiar with such work, the Inuk had heated the mud with fire rocks to counter the near-freezing temperatures. All the same, it was impossible to avoid the mud. It covered his hands and numbed his fingers in the cold air. Still, the work was doable, as it was not yet winter, and Onak had a secret weapon—a unique physiological adaptation enjoyed by people whose ancestors evolved in the far north—an ability to control body temperature through an automatic process of blood capillary constriction and dilation in the body’s extremities. It was known as the ‘Hunter’s Response’ in 21st century science.
Harley came around the corner, “Rutin?”
“Yeah.”
“Now that we have something to measure, shall we layout the first rafter?”
“You and Anders go ahead and get started. I’ll be along shortly.” Rutin then made for the other end of camp, “Mr. Fischer, might I have a word?”
“Yes, Mr. Elkhart.”
“I’m afraid our sod might freeze solid before we can install it.”
“Should we unroll it?”
“Yes. It’s already going to be stiff, and we don’t want to tear it up, so have Rowena help you when she returns. Lay the pieces on top of one another, side by side, and three layers high. That way the ground warmth should keep them from freezing. Cut some sawgrass and throw it on top for insulation. And rope it off so the giant can’t eat it.”
“Mr. Elkhart,” a voice called.
“Yes, Julian,” turning back towards the longhouse where the young man sat straddling the wall.
“How’s it look?” asked Julian, referring to the final log, the one that he and Anders had just fitted into place.
“Good,” replied Elkhart, coming forward. “There’s a bit of a gap, same as the others, but that’s no problem, we can chink them. You can come down now, Julian. It’s time we got going on a storage cellar. Otherwise, the ground will freeze, and we’ll be out of luck…and I’ll have to explain it to the boss.”
Chuckling at Rutin’s jest, Julian climbed down the ladder, “At least our food doesn’t spoil in this weather.”
“It won’t spoil as fast,” Rutin corrected, knowing that daily fluctuations in temperature would not do stored food any good. And explaining to Julain, he continued, “Our food will do much better if we have a place where the temperature remains steady. Steady and cold. That’s what we need. And we’ll also want to have a smidgen of ventilation to keep things dry.” He then signaled for the young man to follow, “Come, I’ll show you where to dig. Cody will be your helper. He should be back anytime now.”
Meanwhile, a half-mile away on a frosty trail surrounded by jack pines, John and Ellie made their way towards camp. Previously, in the days before he had gotten his horse back, the huntsman had ferried his kills on his own back. A large caribou might require him to make three round trips between his kill and camp. Fortunately, he was mostly able to keep his kills nearby because the caribou were everywhere in the woods, wandering about, eating moss and lichens. If he made a big kill a mile from camp, that meant six miles total travel, with half those miles spent carrying roughly 130 pounds. Two miles from camp doubled that distance. Whatever the case, he did what he had to do. He had tried using the dogs with a crude sled, but the canines, being untrained, had proven more trouble than they were worth. He then tried dragging the sled himself, only to abandon the idea. Fortunately, with the logging done and the birchbark harvested, he had gotten his horse back.
“Almost home now,” he said, leading Ellie across a field, itself a patchwork of brown cotton grass and white swaths of snow.
Back at camp, Jessie and Rowena returned from a morning fishing foray—a stringer of lake trout hanging from a stick suspended between them. Rowe went to assist Mr. Fischer, who, as per Elkhart’s instructions, needed help with the sod. Jessie went to work at a bench that Harley had built from construction scraps. The bench, quickly made but sturdy, served as a cleaning station for fish and small game. Nothing went to waste, and when the work was done, water for cleaning the bench top came from a small stream that ran beside their camp.
Scarcely had Jessie begun on a second fish when Harley came alongside, “That’s a nice looking catch.”
“Thank you,” she lifted her eyes to him while holding a fresh lake trout to the tabletop, a stone-cutting flake in her free hand.
“How’s the table working out?”
“It’s perfect.”
Visibly pleased, Harley glanced towards his work area. “I’d better go back before Anders reports me.”
Breaking into a smile, Jessie pecked his cheek.
Coming to the edge of camp, John paused before the stream. Small but swift in the shelter of low hills, the crystal clear water had weighed large in the clan’s choice of building site. To cross the stream, Ellie would need a little extra attention, lest she try to jump it and dump their payload in the process.
“Coming up behind you, John.”
“Hey Cody,” turning to see the boy.
Yet a stone’s toss down the path, Cody lifted his arm from which he dangled one squirrel, two grouse, and two rabbits.
“Nice haul, Cody!”
“Thank you!” closing the distance.
Meanwhile, from the opposite side of the stream, the sounds of a work camp carried particularly well in the still morning air. The sawing and chopping of wood. A pick ax striking earth and root. Voices of men and women coordinating their work. Occasional cursing, laughter, and the scent of a campfire. The sound of water flowing in the brook. A new home in a glade just above the stream, surrounded by half-sized pines, nestled between three low hills, well protected from the north wind. And that was good, for looking up, a blanket of clouds hung over the forest like autumn’s last gasp.
Yet paused before the stream, John asked, “Cody, would you go ahead of us?”
“Sure thing, John,” understanding that Ellie would be put at ease seeing him cross the stream first. Not that she would be a problem, but it was ‘good practice’ as John put it.
Crossing after Cody, the Seeker led his horse into camp, the carcass of a bull caribou trailing on a travois, like a body on a stretcher.
Coming forward, Noah looked first to the caribou, then to the huntsman, “Now that’s big!”
“Yep, he’s a big’en.”
“Where’d you get him?”
“Three miles that-a-way,” pointing. Then, squatting to the child’s level, John lowered his voice as though he didn’t want his horse to overhear, “Ellie dragged him home but, she’s so big and strong, I don’t think she knew he was back there! And I’m thinking that maybe I ought not to tell her.”
“Really?” asked Noah, looking to the giant.
“Noah,” Sophie said sharply, coming to her brother’s side, her hands on her hips, her glare fixed on John, “he’s pulling your leg, again!”
John broke into a sheepish grin, “Only a little.”
From her workstation, Laureal could hear John razzing the children. She knew it was all in lighthearted fun. Even Sophie loved it, if only secretly.
Noah poked at the carcass, “Was it hard to get him on the travois?”
Already on his knees, John went down on his hands, “I threw him on like a bull buffalo!” pressing his head against the caribou’s side.
“Stop lying!” Sophie cried in exasperation.
“Can’t I have a little fun?” lifting his head.
“So, how’d you get him on there?” Noah pressed.
“I used my head,” straightening up and pointing to his temple. “I’ll show you,” with a smile, “but first, we need to turn Ellie loose so she can eat.”
“I bet she’s hungry,” said Noah.
“She’s always hungry,” Sophie stated.
Scarcely a dozen steps away, Laureal again had turned to watch John and the children. An ivory fleshing knife in hand, she stood before a caribou hide stretched like a drum on a large upright frame. A portrait of youth heavy with child, she beamed at John through weary eyes.
Beaming back, John rose and brushed off his buckskins. No words were spoken. They said it all with their eyes. He untied the travois and, with Noah and Sophie tagging along, led Ellie to the edge of camp where he turned her loose.
Back at her workstation, Laureal used the fleshing knife to scrape a stubborn layer of flesh that clung to the inside of all caribou hides. Before that, she had struck the hide again and again with a stone tool, shaped something like a brick chisel, to form a horizontal line of peeled flesh. After that, the ivory knife, which was something of a scythe with a handle at either end, was a two-handed affair. Holding it by either end, Laureal placed the knife nearly flat against the hide and used her body strength to drag it downward while a vertical backing beam supported the hide. Again and again, she pulled the blade, forcefully peeling the flesh ever downward until suddenly, a great cramp rushed through her pelvis, and a gush of amniotic fluid went running down her legs.
For a moment, the young mother-to-be could neither walk nor talk, so sharp was the pain. Cramps had been coming and going that morning, but being unsure as to whether it was just more of the same late-pregnancy discomfort or true contractions, she had carried on as usual. Now waiting for the pain to subside, she began towards the table where her mother worked, “Mom.”
“Yes, dear.”
“My water broke.”
Jessie turned to the center of camp, “Mom.”
“Yes, dear,” looking up from the cook fire.
“It's begun.”
Emma rose from the fire, “Rowena.”
“I’m over here,” working on her hands and knees alongside Mr. Fischer, the two of them unrolling a bundle of sod.
“Come child…I need you to take over for me.”
Just then, John came walking from the far end of camp, Noah on his right and Sophie on his left, “…well, you see, it’s like this; I took his antlers off so they wouldn’t snag and pull him from the travois on the way home. But first, to get him on the travois, I cleared some debris and laid the travois on his downhill side. It wasn’t much of an incline, but sometimes a little can go a long way. I cut a nice straight branch with my hatchet and used it to pry on him. It didn’t take long because I kept after it until he rolled onto the sled…well, kind of rolled. I had to pull and push and lever on him.”
“But you managed,” said Noah, repeating a term the adults sometimes used.
“Oh yeah,” nodding in the affirmative, “when I was done, he sat just right!”
Sophie appeared a mixture of curiosity and suspicion, “If you laid the travois flat like you said, then, once he was on it, how were you able to lift it?”
“I didn’t have to lift the end the caribou rested on. I had to lift the other end, and because the travois poles are long, I had excellent leverage. With just a little muscle,” pumping his arm with a grin, “I lifted and slipped the poles into their loops on Ellie’s harness. Then, as I backed Ellie up, the poles slid further into the loops, and that lifted the travois all the more. I then tied the poles off so they couldn’t come out of their loops. And finally, with everything ready, I…
“John.”
“Yes,” looking up from the kids.
Emma signaled with a wave of her hand, “Come over here, please.”
Emma and Mia appeared to be having a private conference.
“Where’s Laureal?” John asked, glancing about the camp, having noticed her empty workstation.
“Her water broke. She’s gone into the women’s tent with her mother. She’ll be back out shortly.”
“Is the baby coming?” confused.
“Not yet,” said Mia.
John, everything’s okay,” Emma stated calmly. “Here’s what we need you to do when Laureal comes out: take her for a walk, nice and slow and easy, never more than a stone’s toss from camp.”
John glanced from Emma to Mia and back again, “What if we’re away from camp, and the baby decides to come?”
“The baby is coming, but it’s not gonna just pop out,” Emma replied. “Mia and Anders will go with you while Jessie and I make ready. In the meantime, the best thing you can do is relax. Laureal’s body knows exactly what to do, and it will let her know ahead of time.”
As Emma went to make ready, Mia turned to John, “This isn’t her first rodeo.”
Sophie tugged at her mother’s dress, “Mommy?”
“Yes.”
“When Laureal is ready to have her baby, can I go in the tent with you?”
“Only if you promise to stay out of the way, sit still, and watch and learn without asking questions or making any suggestions. Can you do that?”
“Yes,” smiling happily.
“May I come?”
Mia turned to see Rowena kneeling by the cook fire, “Yes, Rowe, of course you may.”
Noah tugged at John’s buckskins, “Don’t worry, John. I’ll stay out here with you.”
As Laureal appeared from the women’s tent, all eyes went to her, for by then, the entire clan had realized what was happening.
John started forward only to feel Mia’s hand on his arm. “Remember,” she said lowly, “as her husband, you need to be a calming force.”
Nodding, John turned to Laureal, “How are you feeling, sweetheart?”
“I’m good,” visibly anxious.
“Would you like to walk a bit? We can take it slow.”
“Yeah,” accepting his hand, “Mom said it’d be helpful.”
Anders came alongside Mia, “Reporting for duty,” his spear in hand, a hatchet in his belt, a bow and quiver on his back.
Looking him up and down, Mia appeared amused.
“What?” Anders asked.
“Nothing,” laughing lowly, “you’re exactly what we need.”
Picking up his spear, John turned to his wife, “Your wish is my command.”
“I need to go to the bathroom.”
They began towards the latrines, located just off the south path, a stone’s throw from camp. Walking opposite John, Weya stuck close to Laureal’s side. Yike went ahead while Nemo followed along behind. Jessie, meanwhile, emerged from the women’s tent with her daughter's trousers, which she washed in the stream. After the trousers dried and time could be found, she would tailor them to Laureal’s new postpartum form.
As the walkers moved on from the latrine, Laureal felt another contraction, “Oh,” stopping, stooping in pain, “Oh!”
John spoke softly, “Lean on me if it helps.”
Unable to respond, Laureal closed her eyes and groaned. In the midst of the pain, she felt John’s hand gently caressing her back.
John lifted his eyes to Mia.
Pursing her lips, Mia gave a subtle nod.
Opening her eyes, Laureal slowly straightened up.
“You’re another step closer to being home free,” said John, thinking of carrying meat loads home on his back and how grueling the last hundred yards had sometimes been. He knew it could not compare to Laureal’s journey, but it was the best he could do.
Laureal smiled up at him, “I’m so ready,” her expression one of pain and anxiety held in check by the remarkable resilience of youth.
“Heaven appears to have taken notice,” said Mia, looking up at the trees.”
“What makes you think that?”
“Look at the treetops…they’re perfectly calm.”
“You’re right,” said John, glancing about with a measure of surprise. “The breeze is always up by this late in the morning.”
“If it’s a girl,” asked Anders, “does this mean we can’t name her ‘Windy?’”
Chuckles went around.
“John wants a boy.”
“I’ll take either,” said John, smiling.
“Shall we walk a bit further?” asked Mia, her tone suggesting it’d be good if they did.
Having made the tent ready for the big event and knowing full well that winter was coming and the show must go on, Emma returned to the business of running the camp, “Mr. Fischer.”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“Are you good here without Rowena?”
“Yes, Ma’am. I’ve got this.”
“Very good.” Then, proceeding to the cook fire, “Rowe.”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“I’ll finish up here. Go and attend to the game table (clean the fish, squirrels, bird, and rabbit). Then, looking about, “Jessie! Where are you?”
“Over here, mother.”
“What are you doing?”
“Going to find my daughter.”
“Ask her if she’s hungry.”
As it turned out, Laureal did feel a bit hungry. Thus, the entire family gathered around the fire for lunch. Fresh trout with a rice-like dish of grain from lime grass, and pine nuts. A hearty stew mostly of aged venison with potato-like tubers, edible mushrooms, and forest herbs. Wintergreen berries for dessert. And tea made from spruce needles.
His dish in his lap, Harley turned to look at the pups, several of which were whining just then. Some were standing, others sitting quietly, hopefully begging at a distance, tied up in their area—
“They’ve gotten so big.”
“You can say that again,” Cody concurred.
“Seems like yesterday, they were just little puppies.”
“Now they’re so strong,” Fischer began, ‘if you don’t keep them under control, they’ll pull you off your feet and drag you down the trail.”
Chuckles went round, for all knew that very thing had happened to Robert.
“They’ll make a fine pair of sled teams.”
“We can get started on the sleds once we’ve got the longhouse done.”
Anders glanced at the yet-to-be-completed longhouse, “We’ve made good progress.”
“Yes, we have.”
“We’ve been fortunate, weatherwise.”
“We’ve been fortunate, period.”
Closing her eyes, Laureal grimaced as a contraction began in her back and quickly wrapped around her lower abdomen, “Oh….oh!”
John leaned in and caught her plate just in time before she dropped it.
On her other side, Jessie caressed her daughter while looking to her mother, “They’re coming regularly now.”
“That’s good,” said Emma, sipping her tea, her eyes fixed on her granddaughter.
All eyes were on Laureal. The camp had fallen silent. The only voices, a troop of snow buntings calling back and forth from within the shelter of the stunted forest, and the sounds of the water flowing in the brook—nature’s tranquility under a blanket of clouds on a windless day, all in winter’s looming shadow.
Laureal straightened in her seat and let out a sigh.
Putting an arm around her, Jessie brushed a strand of hair from her daughter’s cheek, “Soon, you’ll hold your child in your arms.”
No comments:
Post a Comment