LAKE OF THE SWANS
Book 2 of 3
Chapter 59
No more had Laureal recovered from her contraction than Elkhart turned to the others, “Change of plan, we’re going all in on getting the roof done. We will work together as one crew to put in the spar and primary rafters. Harley, once that is done, you, Anders, John, and Julian will put up the rest of the roof frame. Work from the north end to the south. As you go, Robert, Mia, Cody, and Rowe will come along behind you, laying down the birchbark and sod. Onak, once you’ve finished chinking the walls, join the bark and sod crew. Mia, Onak will relieve you. Then you can return to making boots and coats. Julian, before you go up on the roof, you and Cody stretch a tarp over the hole you started and cover it with grass. Take some branches and build a quick tripod over it. That will mark its location so no one falls in.”
“If you don’t want anyone to fall in,” Noah asked, “why are you covering it?”
Elkhart smiled at the boy, “If we cover it, it won’t freeze, or at least not solid, and that way, when the boys resume work on it, they won’t have to deal with rock-hard ground.”
Elkhart then turned to his second, “Harley, once the roof is framed, you will build the doors, shutters, and sleeping platforms. John, you will continue hunting. Anders, you will help me build the hearth and chimney. If we don’t have time to complete the chimney, we’ll make do with a roof vent.”
Anders turned to the huntsman, “John, now that you’re on the cusp of being a father…” and pausing, Anders trailed off.
“Yeah…what?” asked John, reading the big man’s expression, which appeared to be one of love between brethren.
“When you dress out that caribou,” Anders began, only to trail off again.
“Yeah,” said John, visibly confused.
Anders broke into a wry grin, “Don’t cut yourself.”
Chuckles went around among the men.
John only smiled and shook his head.
Sophie lifted her eyes to her mother, “Why do they joke like that?”
Meanwhile, Jessie massaged her daughter’s back, “Would you like to walk a bit more, dear? John and I will go with you.”
“I suppose,” mustering a little smile, pained though it be.
Standing up, John offered Laureal his hand, “We can take the west path. It doesn’t cross the stream,” thinking of the slippery rocks and wishing to avoid them.
As Laureal accepted John’s hand, he was taken by her expression. Rarely had he seen such vulnerability in her eyes.
Watching from the periphery, Weya rose and took an angle to meet them as they crossed camp, whereupon she came alongside Laureal, opposite John.
Jessie walked a step behind, “Weya doesn’t let you out of her sight.”
Yike and Nemo came next and, as they exited camp, the alpha took point while his brother took rear guard.
“Dogs,” John said fondly. “Loyal to the death.”
“Oh!” suddenly clutching John’s arm, stooping with her free hand on her tummy, “Oh, Lord!”
From behind, Jessie clasped her daughter softly by the shoulders, “Don’t hold your breath, dear. Exhale nice and slow. That’s it. Now inhale slowly. That’s it,” gently rubbing her shoulders. “You’re doing fine.”
After a few moments, Laureal straightened with a beleaguered, “Oh, good grief.”
“You only have to carry it a little further,” said John, thinking again of carrying meat loads to camp. Then, on second thought, “I mean…you’ll still carry it, but at least you’ll be able to pass it off to your mom, or grandma, or cousin now and again.”
“Don’t forget Rowena…and Sophie too,” Jessie added, yet rubbing Laureal’s shoulders. “All us gals are gonna want our turn, and none more so than I.”
“You may want to draw straws,” John said in jest.
“No straws!” Jessie rebutted with a playful smile. “I will be first!”
As they continued in good spirits, Laureal thought nothing of John’s excluding himself from those who wanted to hold the baby. It was easy to envision him lying on his back with the babe, tossing it up in the air while it squealed with delight. On the other hand, had he bantered with the clanswomen regarding who got to hold the baby, she would have been alarmed.
Meanwhile back at camp, Rutin approached Emma, “I apologize for stealing your crew.”
“The roof has to be done,” looking up with a smile, tidying up the cooking area, making ready for the preparation of the evening meal.
“Can I refill this for you?” picking up a waterskin.
“I would appreciate that.”
He returned a few moments later, “Here you go.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Rutin.”
“Yes.”
“Would you fetch that squirrel,” gesturing to the game table, “and the rabbits and grouse for me, please.”
“Certainly.”
At another time of year, leaving carcasses to lie out would have been a problem, but with the temperature hovering several degrees above freezing, the game in question may as well have rested on a table in a 21st century walk-in refrigerator, freshly dressed and ready for the chef to begin her magic. The birds would be basted, the rabbits and squirrel stewed. The moist methods of cooking would do the tenderizing, so aging the meat was not necessary. Presently, as Rutin gathered the game and turned back towards the cookfire, he observed the two crews at the longhouse, the one crew building rafters, the other preparing the bark and sod—working together, same as they had for more miles than any cared to count, all possessed with a sense of urgency.
“Here you go,” offering the game to Emma.
“Lay them on that rock, please.”
“Anything else I can do?”
“No, I’m good, thank you,” looking up from cleaning out a skillet. “You look…content.”
“I am,” smiling.
“Are you going up on the roof now?”
“Yes.”
“Be careful, please.”
To begin the roof, the two crews came together to install the ridge spar, which consisted of two large poles joined as one, to span the length of the longhouse from the pediments at each end wall. The two poles that made up the ridge spar were joined at their narrow ends with overlapping bevels that had been bound with cord laid in grooves. Thus preassembled, the backbone of the roof only needed to be lifted and set into place atop notched pillars—a task easier said than done. The crew could not roll the spar up a ramp of logs to the top without risk of twisting and loosening of its center joint. Nor did they want to disassemble it and then refit and reassemble it at the top. They had the giant at their disposal. They had plenty of rope. But being a large crew, they decided they could save time by lifting the spar to the top themselves. The supporting pillars were already in place, their bases buried in the ground, their notched tops ready to accept the spar. And so they began, understanding that once they had the spar atop the pillars, they would next install a half-pillar at each pediment. A third half-pillar would support the spar from an interior wall that divided the longhouse into two areas—one area for humans, the other for animals. The animal area would double as a workshop for building dog sleds. Alongside the main spar, two secondary spars, or purlins, would be added to buttress the rafters on either side of the main spar halfway between the ridge and walls. Together, the spar, purlins, pillars, rafters, and several joists would form the roof’s superstructure, which had to be strong to prevent the weight of sod and snow from collapsing on the family.
“We could really use John’s strength right now,” Cody groaned, straining with the others all in a row as they lifted the big ridge spar.
“His wife needs him more than we do,” Harley replied, also groaning. Along with the others, he lifted the spar and placed it in a Y-shaped branch, which he would then use to extend his reach while lifting the spar to the precut notches in the pillars.
“We’ve got this!” said Julian, straining.
At the other end, Anders employed his great strength, “Just a bit further!”
A short distance from camp, John, Laureal, and Jessie paused upon hearing the cheers of their clanmates.
“They’ll have the purlins up next,” said John, looking through the trees to see the main spar in its place. “The roof will go fast with so many working on it.”
“Oh!” her hand on her tummy, Laureal held to John with her free hand while Jessie massaged her lower back—
“Breath, dear. That’s good,” speaking softly. “You’ve got this.” Jessie shared a look with John. She spoke no words but he could read her eyes—the time was near.
Harley stood atop the north-end wall, using the free end of the spar to maintain his balance while Cody came up the ladder. The boy straddled the wall and waited there while Onak, a half-pillar balanced on his shoulders, slowly came up the ladder. Meanwhile at the south end, Anders, Fischer, and Julian performed the same task.
As Onak reached the top of the ladder, Harley and Cody assisted him, and together, they placed the half-pillar upright atop the end wall. The pillar had already been notched at its bottom end. With Onak still on the ladder and Cody sitting straddled on the wall, they held the pillar in place while Harley pushed up on the end of the spar while eyeballing it (to level it before marking the top of the pillar with his ax, thus indicating the depth of which to cut its upper notch). Having made the mark, Harley could have taken the pillar back down to the ground to notch it but, being confident in his skill, he decided to cut it where it stood—
“Hold it firm and close your eyes,” looking down at Cody and Onak. A moment later, wood chips came raining down as Harley, standing atop the wall with one hand on the pillar and his back touching the spar for balance, chopped out the notch—
“Alright, let’s move it back and see how it fits.” Then, with a little adjusting and a bit more chopping, “That will work! Now let’s bring up a rafter.”
Having helped place the ridge spar, Mia and Rowe began transferring roofing materials nearer to the walls where they could be taken up ladders to the roof. Both had armloads of birchbark tiles when Jessie, Laureal, and John emerged from the woods.
“Mom,” Jessie began, making for the woman’s tent, “I think the baby is just about ready.”
Yet by the fire, Emma summoned Mia, “Take over for me here,” washing her hands. “When the time comes…I’ll send Sophie to fetch you and Rowe.”
Although a single midwife would suffice, Kasskatchen custom required the presence of every woman in the clan, including female children. Men were no more expected to take part than women would have been expected to participate in a bear hunt. The only similarity was that both events bore a potential for disaster and therefore had to be approached with great care, skill, and knowledge.
Laureal turned to John, “I’ll see you soon,” at once anxious and yet comforted by the presence of those who surrounded her.
John kissed Laureal’s lips. And she, with a parting smile, ducked into the tent with her mother close at her side, followed by her grandmother.
Pausing before the tent flap, Sophie turned to the horseman, “Don’t worry, John. Emmy delivered Noah and me.”
Left alone, John turned his eyes to Noah, “Looks like it’s just you and I, buddy.”
Watching intently from the roof, Elkhart called out to the workers, “Everybody down.”
Swinging from a rope, Cody leaped to the ground like a monkey from a tree. “What’s up?”
Julian only shrugged and raised his brows. He, like Cody, had not been in a position to see the women enter the tent.
“By the looks of things,” said Anders, coming down a ladder, “we’re going to say a prayer.”
“Everyone over here,” his arms extended, Elkhart flagged his fingers to gather them in the midst of the worksite. “John, Noah…come over here. Mia…you too. Everyone, form a circle and join hands.”
The work crew bowed their heads. The voices of those who prepared in the tent, although undiscernible, came faintly through the calm, drawing the workers closer to the purpose of their gathering. Even the snow buntings ceased their chatter, leaving all the forest to stand in silence, save for the ever-flowing stream.
“Great Spirit, creator of all things,” Elkhart began, “we thank you for bringing us together and leading us to this place. We thank you for protecting each and every one of us, that by your grace we have made these many miles without loss, sickness, or injury. We are so deeply grateful! Please, let us continue in your grace. Hear our humble plea. Watch over Laureal and her child. Comfort the one who bears your miracle. Bring her safely through on her passage to motherhood. Bring the child safely through on this, the last leg of its journey from you to us. Bring the new family into being, that we may marvel over your work, and commit ourselves to your guidance, that we may be worthy stewards, ever standing behind new mother and father, rejoicing in your gift of newborn body and soul.”
While the others returned to their work, Mia came alongside John, “Thank you for looking after Noah.”
“We’re looking after each other,” shooting a smile at the boy who, having turned seven, was, according to Kasskatchen custom, of an age to be handed over from the care of women to men.
“Are you going to dress out that caribou?” Mia asked.
“I suppose so.”
“You know, Anders was only half-joking when he said don’t cut yourself…because, you know, it’s difficult to focus at a time like this.”
“Thank you,” smiling.
“Before you begin, could you help Rowe and me? We can roll the sod up, but some of the rolls are very heavy, and we’d appreciate it if you could carry them for us.”
“I can do that.”
“We only need what we can put up on the roof today. We should leave the rest where it is. It’s less likely to freeze that way.”
“How many do you need?”
“Eight rolls should do.”
Understandably, John was not himself, as Mia could plainly see. And although she had no fear of him losing his head when Laureal cried out, it was no secret that exertion led to relaxation. Carrying heavy loads would be good for him, somewhat akin to round-penning a horse to even its keel.
At the center of camp, Noah went to work for his mother, breaking up small sticks and twigs from branches that had been piled near the cookfire. Having made a respectable pile, he went to stand beside Mia, “Mom.”
“Yes.”
“I piled the sticks like you said,” gesturing to his work. “And…I was wondering, may I go and help John now?”
Mia glanced at John’s workstation—a patch of ground laid over with hide tarps plus a few hewn cutting boards. The hunter did much of his butchering there. He was a good hunter. Not the best in the clan. That title belonged to Elkhart or Harley, but as they were both skilled in the building of longhouses, the family was fortunate to have a ‘deep bench,’ so to speak. The young mother turned to her boy, “Do you promise to do as he says?”
“Yes,” his eyes full of hope.
“Alright then, but only if you give me a hug first.”
To get the caribou off the travois and onto the tarp, John used one of the travois poles as a lever. Pushing with powerful legs and lifting with upper body strength while choking up on the shaft, he rolled the carcass off the travois and onto the tarp. He then muscled it directly, pulling it by its legs, pushing and shoving it into a favorable position. Presently on his knees, he had only gotten started removing the hide when Noah came before him.
“My mom told me to help you.”
“She did?”
“Yes…well, she did, after I asked her.”
“Well, Noah…your timing is perfect.”
“Really?”
“Yes, I was just thinking that, now that I have Ellie and I don’t have to do half my butchering in the field, I should erect a tripod. So what I need you to do is go and ask Mr. Elkhart if he has any poles he can spare so I can make a tripod. Make sure to tell him that this is not an important matter. Tell him not to stop his work, but if he happens to have some spare poles, I will come and get them. Now, repeat what I just said.”
“I’m to ask Mr. Elkhart if he has extra poles to make a tripod, and…if he has some, you will come and get them. And, if he doesn’t have them, it’s no big deal.”
“You got it.”
As Noah went off on his errand, John turned to the caribou carcass. With a stone flake in hand, he put the razor sharp edge to work, carefully separating hide from flesh, but no more had he begun than Laureal let out a painful groan, followed by the voices of the women. “Take a deep breath, dear. That’s it. You’re doing fine. It won’t be long now.”
John could not make out their every word, but he would know their voices anywhere. Jessie’s tone gave him assurance, “That’s it. Nice deep breaths.”
John laid the cutting flake down and sat back slowly, cross-legged beside the carcass. He drew a deep breath.
Emma’s voice came next, also without a hint of angst but considerably clearer, “Go and get your mother.”
At once, John looked up to see Sophie emerge from the tent, not running but on a beeline for the cookfire. Soon after, Mia, Rowe, and Sophie came walking. Mia veered off while speaking over her shoulder, “You two go ahead. I’ll be along in a moment.”
Mia squatted before John, “How you doing?”
“I’m fine.”
“Your wife is in good hands,” said Mia, holding his gaze with knowing eyes.
“I know.”
“It won’t be long now.”
John only smiled.
Smiling back, Mia rose and began away only to pause and turn around, “John.”
“Yeah.”
“You’re going to make a fine father.”
Mia disappeared into the tent, from which came more voices and even a little laughter. A moment of silence. A painful groan. A mother comforting her daughter. John could almost see the scene in his mind’s eye whether he wanted to or not. Then, out of the blue, Laureal’s voice came with such pain, it sent him bolting to his feet.
He had been told what to expect, and still, he hadn’t been ready for it. He stood startled, staring at the tent. Then, feeling a hand come on his shoulder, he turned around.
Harley held John’s gaze, “Just so you know, it’s likely to get louder…but don’t worry, it’s only normal.”
John nodded in the affirmative.
“You good?”
“Yeah, I’m good.”
“Alright then, I brought your helper back.”
Noah looked up at John, “John, I told him not to stop his work.”
Chuckling, Harley gave Noah a friendly rub on the head, “We have poles when you want them, John.”
“Thanks, Harley.”
“I need Noah for a while, if that’s alright?”
“Not a problem,” fully understanding that Harley hadn’t come to talk about poles any more than he needed Noah just then, although Harley would find work to occupy the boy.
“John.”
“Yeah.”
“Don’t worry about building a tripod just now. Don’t worry about skinning or butchering. You’ve already cleaned out its cavity, and that’s all that’s needed for now. Nobody expects you to do more until you’ve seen your wife and child. So until then, try to relax as best you can. Maybe say a little prayer or two…okay, you got that?”
“Got it,” with a nod.
Harley turned to Noah, “We’ve got a roof to build.”
Left alone, John began to pace only to stop himself. He sat down beside the caribou, picked up a piece of chert, and knapped it out of nervousness. He wasn’t a skilled arrowhead maker, but he’d come a long way. He lost track of time as voices came and went in tones of pain and comfort, fear and reassurance.
“You can rock if you want. Trust what your body tells you…it knows what to do.”
And, “Oh—oh, Lord!”
Followed by, “Almost there now.”
And again, soft but sure, “You’re doing fine. Breath. That’s it…nice deep breaths.”
Using a small edging tool made of caribou antler, John worked the edge of the chert, forming its edge by flaking off one tiny fragment at a time, “Chip, chip, chip.” It mattered not whether the chert was to become an arrowhead, a spearhead, or a knife. It almost certainly would not become anything at all. It just gave John something to do, like smoking a cigarette.
“The baby’s coming.” The words brought John to his feet.
Laureal screamed in pain.
From their places on the longhouse roof, all eyes turned to the tent.
Again, Laureal screamed.
John started towards the tent only to stop. There was nothing he could do. It was not in his hands. He turned to the drab gray sky, his face contorted, his eyes beseeching, “Please…protect my wife and child.”
No more had John asked than he noticed a single snowflake descending through the calm. Directly above him, perhaps fifty feet, it came down slow and steady, drifting neither east nor west, north nor south. He put out his hand, and it landed in his palm. It was just a snowflake, like a million others soon to follow. And yet there it was, beautifully made, unique unto itself.
The cry of a newborn child rang out. A strong healthy cry. It filled the air as the snowflake melted in the palm of John’s hand.
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