LAKE OF THE SWANS
Book 2 of 3
Chapter 62
Perhaps it is safe to assume that a great many books have been written about winning teams—accounts of how they rose to meet their challenges. Some books undoubtedly outline steps to build winning teams, with chapters that serve as steps in a staircase to victory. No firsthand account will ever be written, however, telling of how our hunter-gatherer ancestors managed, again and again, to come in under the wire. Still, it is no stretch to assume that, at the foundation of every winning team, past or yet to come, lies a history of incredible success stories spanning back at least ten thousand generations.
Three days had passed since the wedding. The family had come far and achieved much, and still, they’d had no time to prepare for the journey ahead. Presently, they sat at their long table, their faces cast in the shadows of oil lamps. A mere three months remained in which they might ready themselves, at which time the caribou would begin their great trek north across the barren expanse—
“If we cannot ready ourselves in time, we could wait a year and then go.”
“If we must wait, would we be able to feed ourselves without the caribou?”
“We could slaughter a large number of them when they muster to begin their trek,” Julian suggested.
“And we could set up a smoking operation,” Fischer added. “We could smoke and dry large quantities of meat.”
Emma looked around the table, “Now that we’ve plenty of bear lard, we could powder the dried meat and make large stores of pemmican.”
“If we had to do that,” Onak surmised, thinking of the pemmican, “then, as I have said, come springtime out on the tundra, a great variety of berries will be found down close to the ground. The berries, unlike the plants, can be eaten, but they are there for only a short time.”
Jessie turned to her mother, “The berries would complete the pemmican, and there would be enough of us to gather a great harvest.”
Emma nodded assuredly, for while neither woman understood the science, they thoroughly understood the importance of the different ingredients. The addition of vitamin C from the berries would make their pemmican a complete food containing essential fats, proteins, minerals, and vitamins. Not to mention that, with a variety of berries, one could make a variety of flavors. And they had other sources. Wintergreen berries were presently available and contained high levels of vitamin C. Likewise, flour additive made from pine bark was a good source of vitamin C.
“The streams and lakes team with fish,” said Rowe, looking to her mentor.
“If we stayed a year, is there any chance we might fish them out?” asked Mia, also looking to Jessie.
“Not in a year…probably not in fifty years,” Jessie replied assuredly.
“Setting his cup down, Harley glanced around the table, “If we must, we will stay, but I think we can be ready in three months.”
“I would hope so,” Onak concurred.
“Of course you hope so,” said Mia, “you want to see your home.” And softening, “I can’t fault you for that.”
“Yes,” Onak concurred, “I want to see my home. I want to see my mother and father, my brothers and sisters, and the friends I grew up with…but if a situation comes in which I must choose, then I pray to choose wisely because getting home a year late is better than never.”
A silence fell over the table, for all understood what the Inuk implied. They could not enter the barren lands unprepared.
From his seat at the head of the table, Elkhart leaned forward, “Let us do as we always have and give it our all. That way, if we can be ready in three months and accomplish what we came here to do, we may very well avoid any complications brought on by those who might be following us. But if in three months, we find ourselves coming up short…well then, there’s nothing to stop us from adjusting our plans.”
“Mother,” Jessie began, “if we are being followed, how will you and Rutin be able to remain here in the cabin?”
“Dear, you know the answer to that. Rutin and I are going. We’re all going.”
Jessie wanted to say more, but checked herself.
Mia flashed a look at Anders. No words were spoken, but her eyes told the tale. They were going not because they wanted to but because they owed their union to Emma, to mention nothing of Mia’s fierce loyalty to her Matriarch.
Presently, Mia turned her eyes from Anders to the Inuk, “Mr. Onak, you say that once we leave this forest, there will be no fuel for fire?”
“I wish I were wrong, but out there, we will not find anything to burn. However, once we gain the ocean,” his countenance brightening if only a little, “we can burn the oil of seals, walruses, and whales.”
Looks went around the table, for none had ever seen sea mammals, with the exception of John and Anders who had seen seal colonies and pods of whales, respectively, near the ruins of LA and New York.
“We would have to catch them first.”
“Yes,” Onak concurred, “and they are dangerous animals, but so are grizzly bears, and we hunt them. Moreover, one walrus would supply us with the oil of five grizzlies.”
“No way!” cried Cody.
“Yes, way,” Onak rebutted, “and what’s more, one whale would supply us the oil of twenty grizzlies.”
Anders jumped in, “I’ve seen whales, and with regard to catching one…I can’t imagine us having a snowflake’s chance in you know where.”
“There is a way,” Onak insisted with rising passion. “With my own eyes, I have seen it done!”
John looked up and down the table. “We have to cross the barren lands first.”
“What about dung?” asked Julian. “With so many caribou, can we not burn their dung?”
Onak shook his head, “The droppings will either be too fresh to burn, or too moist from lying under the snow. I’m afraid it would be an exercise in futility, and, out there, undertakings that waste time and energy do not end well.”
Emma shifted her eyes to Rutin, “There must be a way.”
“There is a way,” Onak began, his tone a plea for optimism, “We can cook our meals in the stomachs of the caribou. Each time we slaughter an animal, we can tie off the stomach at the gut end and then stuff chunks of meat down the throat tube and into the stomach…it does not take long for the stomach fluids to cook the meat for us. The result is a stew with meat, vegetables, and broth.”
Mia curled her lips, “Tepid stomach stew…in the cold of winter?”
“By the time we doled it out,” Cody added with a scowl, “it would be cold stomach stew.”
Jessie turned to the Inuk, “Mr. Onak, your people must be outlandishly tough!”
“We eat our meat and fish raw for the most part, but if one’s stomach is not accustomed to it, it can take some getting used to, and out there is no place to get used to it.
“But we are not so unlike you,” Onak added. “We have our winter home and our summer home. And we have fire from seal oil. And we do not venture far into the barren lands, only short distances, to hunt the caribou that graze the plains along the ocean.”
“What if one of us falls through the ice along the way? What are we to do without fire?”
“There must be something we can do.”
“Could we bring some emergency firewood with us?”
“We could,” said Anders, “but no more than that. We won’t have room.”
“Without fire, how are we to melt snow for drinking water?”
“The land is nothing but ponds, rivers, and lakes,” said Cody. “All we need to do is chop through the ice…like we’ve done a million times.”
“This far north,” Onak began, “by winter’s end, the ice can become thick as a man is tall.”
Elkhart shook his head.
“How are we supposed to chop through that?” asked Mia.
“With an extra-large ice chisel,” Harley replied, looking up and down the way. “We can build one from granite before we deploy. It would be a heavy tool to bring along, though. And the chopping would be a two man job.”
“Ice as deep as a man is tall? And no fire to melt snow?”
“What about the animals? If they work hard all day, we cannot expect them to get by on eating snow.”
“I have an idea,” John began, setting his cup down. “These barren land caribou are habitual wanderers. One group comes through the woods going one way, then another group goes the other way. They’re everywhere in the woods, and yet they're always on the move. Anyway, Ellie has been grazing with them. She doesn’t get right in with them, and she doesn’t wander away with them, but she does kind of graze with them, and they don’t seem to mind her presence…like she’s a big moose or something. I’ve lain on her back and watched them, and I’ve noticed they’re not so unlike horses. They’re herd animals like horses. And like horses, each has its own character. Some are easily upset, others are calm. Some will jump out of their skin when a squirrel suddenly scampers across their path, whereas others will take it in stride.”
“What are you getting at, John?”
“A sled load of firewood would be worth its weight in gold to us,” the horseman surmised. “And I’ve seen enough of the caribou to believe they could pull it. Of course, they would not be willing to go along with the idea, but neither would wild horses, and yet, they do go along. The caribou might be wilder than horses. I’m not sure about that, but if we can get a few of the more docile ones to go along just a little, then we might use their instinct as herd animals to our advantage. After all, we only need them to follow the herd. We could test the idea. To begin, I could pick out a docile one, rope him, tie him off, let him thrash and jump and wear himself out, and then, while he’s exhausted, tie him to a sled. Once tied to the sled and allowed to run, he’d go like the wind to escape the sled, but then, after becoming exhausted again and realizing the sled wasn’t going to kill and eat him, he might just settle into a pace and follow his herd. I’ve seen it happen with horses and wild donkeys. There’d be problems to iron out, like if we set the captured caribou loose to graze the plains at night, they’d be long gone come morning.”
Nursing their son, Laureal glanced over at John, “We could mark them with paint for easy identification.”
“We could do that, although if there were a million of them, we might never find them. I’m thinking we might be able to tether them next to our camp. That way, while we eat and sleep, they could do the same. And if by chance they got away or became worn out and we needed to replace them, we could catch new ones. I would think the herd might become habituated to our presence.”
“They’re powerful animals,” said Anders. “If they could be harnessed, then I’d imagine that two could pull a good-sized sled.”
“We could cut dead wood into briquets,” said Fischer, looking up and down the table, the wheels in his head turning. “We could get more wood on a sled that way. And we could soak the briquets in bear oil, and store them in oiled bags, and cover them with a tarp on the sled. Then, even if it snowed and poured rain by the bucket load, we’d have dry fuel.”
“Yeah!” seconded Cody. “Wood soaked in oil burns long and hot!”
“It smokes and stinks of bear lard.”
“Yeah, but only at first.”
“John, do you really think a caribou could pull a sled?”
“Yes, but there’s only one way to find out.”
“If this is to be a workable plan, we need to find out right away,” said Elkhart. And looking first to Anders, then to John, “As the two of you have knowledge of horses…this will be your job, starting first thing tomorrow morning. Do no more than what you have proposed. We only need to know if the animals can be captured and used. Other than that, we’ve more important tasks to complete.”
“We can make simple harnesses on the spot with rope and knots,” John began, looking to Anders. “And we can build a makeshift sled.”
“Sounds good to me,” said Anders.
“To catch them,” John continued, “we can use Ellie. I can stay low on her back while you hide in the trees. Then, with my height advantage atop Ellie, I should be able to get close enough to toss a rope, I hope,” grinning. “Otherwise, we’ll have to wait for them to calm down. Anyway, once Ellie and I have him, you can throw another rope on him, and we’ll let him wear himself out. Then we can cross-tie him and figure out a rope harness.”
Mia turned from John to Anders, “He’ll be kicking and stabbing at you!”
“Some have already dropped their antlers, so if we can, we’ll target one of those,” said Anders, reading the worry in her eyes. “Whatever we do, we won’t do anything until the animal is well and truly exhausted.”
John looked from Laureal to Mia and back again, “Once we get the animal roped and he stops jumping around, I’ll whip the rope and make him jump some more until his tongue is hanging out,” laughingly, “and if he keels over, that’s okay, we’ll just eat him.”
Cody and Julian laughed.
Sophie did not see the humor.
Elkhart ignored their antics. “Mr. Onak, can you give me an estimate on how long it will take to cross the barren lands?”
“It’s a wild guess, but I would think four to eight weeks. I know that, in my home, the female caribou always arrived first. I remember how they came, ambling, heavy with unborn calves. At best, they probably traveled ten miles a day. After they arrived, the males would show up a few weeks later. This was how it always was.”
“Pregnant females wouldn’t be much good for pulling sleds.”
“No, they wouldn’t. But we would do well to stay near their vanguard. That way, if we have trouble and fall a day behind, we will not lose the herd. And if we have a bad week, the males would be yet to come, and we could travel with them, but we cannot afford to fall behind and lose the entire herd!”
Julian looked from Onak to Elkhart, “If we were seven weeks crossing the barren lands, and we had one campfire at breakfast and one at night…that would be a hundred campfires.”
Calculating in his head, Fischer spoke up, “I’d estimate that at five hundred pounds of oiled wood briquettes.”
“In that case, we might need two sleds for the wood.”
“It’s either that or…caribou stomach stew.”
“We’ll see how it goes,” said Elkhart, and turning back to Fischer, “Sir, can you do a test to see how long oiled briquettes will burn? I would think we’ll want to keep a sled-load for the trip back.”
“Certainly, Mr. Elkhart. I was just now thinking of that very thing.”
“If this works out,” Elkhart continued, “and we take two or three sleds along for wood…then in the event of an emergency, if anyone is injured or falls ill, we’ll have a sled that can easily be converted to an ambulance, that we may stay on the move and not lose the herd. Not only that, but after we’ve emptied the first sled of firewood, we will have an empty sled to use as a mobile food store.”
“We wouldn’t want to lose the herd,” said Onak, and direly, he added, “not out there.”
Nodding to acknowledge Onak’s concern, Elkhart turned to Harley, “We’ve talked about rivers.”
“Yes,” Harley replied. “I believe Mr. Onak and I have that problem worked out. We’ll make the dog sled frames to double as boat frames. Then, as I believe the ladies already plan to make cover tarps for the sleds…if those tarps can be made to double as boat skins, to be stretched tight and lashed to the sled rails like the gunwales of a canoe, then we’ll have portable boats. We can construct the horse sled to function in the same fashion. And if we are to have sleds pulled by caribou, then those as well.”
Mia looked around the table, her countenance severe, “We have clothing to make, and boots, and a new tent. We have pemmican to make. We have sleds to make, and dogs to train. We have boat skins to make. Not to mention firewood to cut and oil, along with a dozen other tasks. And if we are to survive, each of these things must be done right, and that takes time…a lot of time!”
“I don’t argue with any of that,” Harley threw in. Then, looking up and down the table, “I’m not saying we can do all this in three months. But we are in good order here. We have many able hands, most with well-honed skills. And we have sheltered work areas both here and on the other side,” referring to the animal side of the longhouse. “So, if we get organized and divide the work to take advantage of our numbers and skills, then I think this may be within our grasp.”
Looking curiously at the walls and rafters, Cody turned to the others, “The wind stopped.”
Preoccupied, Jessie spoke with her daughter, “Laureal, to carry the briquets, we could make simple bags.”
Nodding in the affirmative, “One hide, oiled, folded, and sewn…with holes punched for the drawstrings.”
“Could you and Rowe do that?”
“Yes, Mother,” gently rocking her child, “I’m sure we can.”
“The storm has passed,” Cody reiterated.
“I think you’re right,” said Julian, listening, looking up to the rafters.
“I’ll have a quick look,” and rising, John took his coat from a hook by the door. Not the big door, but the door that led to the south side of the longhouse, being the barn and sled-making shop, as it would allow less cold air in.
“I’m right behind you,” said Cody, grabbing his coat.
Laureal passed Little Bear to her mother and followed her husband and brother. Rowe followed Laureal while Julian brought up the rear.
No more had the five youths exited than Elkhart shot a grin at Emma, “Oh, to be young and stepping into the cold for no good reason.”
Emma only smiled.
Noah tugged at his stepfather’s tunic, “I’m young…can I go outside?”
“In the morning.”
“It’s your bedtime,” his mother added.
While Mia led the twins away to bed, Emma turned to her daughter, “Give him to me,” flagging her fingers.
“In a while,” doting over her grandson, rocking him gently in her arms.
Emma turned to Rutin, “Soon, no one will listen to us at all.”
“We’ve got a few years yet,” smiling.
Out in the yard, John stood with his eyes to the heavens, “The wind must really be strong up there,” watching as clouds swept across the sky like torn bits of cloth.
“It will be clear and cold tonight,” said Cody.
“It’s not too bad right now.”
“No, not at all.”
Laureal turned to John, “Darling, please be careful tomorrow. Their antlers are like spears, and they’re sure to stab at you.”
“I’ll have lots of padding,” referring to his heavy clothing, and grinning.
“That’s not funny.” Then, leaning into him, gazing up into his eyes, “Promise me you’ll be careful.”
“I promise,” becoming earnest.
“Thank you.”
Our hero and heroine, their foreheads together, swayed indiscernibly, a pair of silhouettes against the snowscape. Above them, the last remaining clouds raced away to reveal the moon waxing nearly full under the star dome. Far away to the south, a great cloud bank lined with silver stretched across the horizon, while in the north, the aurora borealis, no longer a distant phenomenon, unfurled like a veil of magic over the top of the world.
Inside and yet seated at the long table, Emma looked up as John came through the door.
“Emma,” John began, spotting his son asleep in her arms, “can you keep him for a while?”
“What’s up, John?”
“I need to keep a promise I made a long time ago.”
“What promise, if I may ask?”
“I haven’t told Laureal what I’m up to and, if it’s all the same to you…I’ll explain when I return.”
They sat gazing at John. The night was not yet old. Mia and Anders had returned to the table. All the adults were there, making plans and working out logistics. The fire in the hearth burned hot. A pot of tea was on.
“John,” said Elkhart, “we thought you only stepped out for a breath of fresh air.”
“I had, but…there’s something I must do, not for me but for Laureal. And if I don’t do it now, it may be a long time before I have another chance. And, well, it’s already been so long since I promised…it’s become ridiculous, and I’m certain she has given up on me.”
Suddenly smiling, Anders turned to the others, “He’s going to give her a riding lesson.”
“Is that what this is about?” laughingly.
Smiling back, John nodded.
“John,” Emma began, “wouldn’t it be better to do this during the day?”
“Not while everyone around us is working their tail off.”
“But it’s dark out.”
“Not really. The moon has come out, and there’s a fresh blanket of snow, so there’s plenty of light. And the wind has died, and it’s not very cold, at least not yet anyway.”
Looks went round the table.
“When you say it won’t take long, when should we expect you back?” Mia asked.
“An hour, hour and a half at the most.”
Emma looked to her daughter.
Jessie gave a little nod.
“Very well, John,” said the Matriarch. “Have fun. And be careful.”
“Will do,” smiling, turning for the door.
“John!” Harley barked.
Halting in his tracks, John turned around.
“Take that with you,” pointing to the rifle on the wall.
No more had the young horseman exited than Harley turned to Jessie, “If the moon is out and it’s not very cold…perhaps we should stretch our legs.”
Leaned into Mia, Anders’ tone was reminiscent, “A certain stroll along a lakeshore comes to mind.”
“Should we add a moonlit walk in the snow?”
Emma shifted her eyes to Rutin, “It appears John brought in a contagion.”
“Yes…and now we’ve lost control of our troop,” chuckling.
“Mr. Fischer.”
“Yes ma’am,” turning to Emma.
“May I implore you to take on a most ridiculous but important task…go out and chaperone the younger members of our family,” referring to Cody and Rowe. “Tell them you are acting on my orders.”
“I will keep an eye on them.”
Elkhart looked to Onak, “Sir, would you be so kind as to go with him? Take the dogs. Tell the kids I ordered a patrol around the camp’s perimeter. Not that we need a patrol, but it will give their young minds something to focus on. And it will be good for the dogs too.”
While the men and women donned their coats and boots, Rutin winked at Emma, “Looks like it’s just you and me.”
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