Long Braid was Fat Hair’s wife. She was the keeper of medicines and plants. She had beautiful black hair. She was the oldest of the women.
Thin Hair had no wife. With him was his son, Thrower, who looked just like his father except his ears stuck out far. His hair curled and his eyes were black and wide apart. When he smiled, his whole face smiled. Thrower was the youngest and the smallest. I knew he would grow to be a strong man like his father. At the headland, I saw him throw stones at birds and strike them time after time.
Watcher, the third oldest, steered the canoe. He could see far. He was thin and tall, all sinew and cord. His chin was heavy and his eyes were dark and cruel, but he was kind to us. He said little but would hum when steering the canoe. He was husband to Bright Eyes, who among the women could throw stones as well as Thrower. She had heavy lidded eyes, which flashed with laughter. She was fair to look upon and the youngest of the women.
Pretty Face loved himself best, knowing he was pretty like a woman, with beautiful long muscles. He expected us to like him, so I did not. All the captives except me gazed at him. He kept his hair short and trimmed with razor stone while looking at his reflection in the water. He would whisper to Fat Hair. I knew as soon as I saw him that Pretty Face wanted to be leader.
The other two women, Heavy and Anger, were the biggest women. Heavy was almost as big as the biggest man, and her hands were larger still. Her face was covered with bumps and wens, and she had heavy lidded eyes like Bright Eyes. Heavy was kind to us.
Anger was short. She had huge muscles, a thick neck, large breasts and wide hips. She had a long head, huge nose, and her eyes were large and bright green. I soon learned she could sing best of anyone.
Even before we left the headland, I knew these razor stone people had much conflict and disagreement. They seemed in a great rush. I was certain we had far to go.
The day we started our journey, the sun was still high and the day warm.
Beyond the cove at the headland the shore went south, at times exposed to the open sea, in other places sheltered by low barrier islands. The shore was sometimes sandy, other times rocky, rising several feet to a great plain. From the canoe, we could not see beyond the lip of the plain; all we could see was the beach. The wind came from the southwest, steady and gentle.
I had thought the skin boat of the skin boat people was large, but this one-log canoe was huge, as long as 10 men lying head to toe, and wider at the top of the sides than a tall man head to heel. The men and the women each took a place at a thwart, four on one side, four on the other, standing just ahead of where the thwart met the sides. The canoe had room for more to paddle. The paddles were longer than the men were tall. Everyone paddled in unison, chanting quietly, often singing. They took strokes beat by beat, not fast, but steadily, hour after hour. Watcher stood on a thwart at the stern, steering with a long oar, controlling the canoe. When Watcher did not steer, Thin Hair or Fat Hair did. Many times nobody used the steering oar, but when there was wind or when the sail was up, the long oar was necessary and helpful. We were often able to travel in shallow water behind barrier islands. The two paddlers closest to the bow sang out if they saw obstructions ahead.
We seven girls crouched in the middle of the canoe, facing the stern, protected with furs against the wind. Whenever the canoe left the protection of a barrier island, large waves made the canoe rise and fall. The shore slipped past, not far away. The high headland dropped behind, so slowly I was sure we were not moving at all. Yet, by the time the sun neared the horizon, the headland was barely in sight.
We paddled all the short night. The moon was just past full. The wind died. At night, four of the paddlers slept, lying on furs on the bottom of the canoe, while four others kept paddling. They rotated through the night.
The only time we stopped was to get water, where streams or small rivers entered the sea. This too was the time we moved our bowels, always near, in sight of the canoe, because we feared the animals.
As we traveled, we captives listened to the razor stone people talk, trying to understand their speech. Soon we were sharing the new words in whispers among us.
Thin Hair was the leader, his decision the final decision. Everyone accepted this except Fat Hair and Pretty Face. Thin Hair knew they disliked him as leader yet seemed not to care. He was unafraid of anyone.
Fat Hair was the finder, the one who knew the landmarks and the currents and the wind patterns. He chose the route. He would watch the stars just before the rising of the sun.
At the start of our journey, we saw no trees, just shrubs and bushes in protected valleys.
The second evening we stopped at a small island far from shore. Here, on this island, protected from the wind, were trees. Along shore was much driftwood, fuel for cooking and warmth.
As with all islands we visited, two went ashore to check for animals while we waited in the canoe. It took Anger and Pretty Face only moments to walk from one end of the island to the other. We brought the canoe to the beach once they signed all was clear. Seals lay in the sun on rocks. Long Braid killed a seal for meat and oil.
We pushed the canoe onto the beach. The bone tools, razor stone and everything else in the canoe were removed. We rolled the canoe on its side until it leaned against stout branches held by Fat Hair and Thin Hair. We washed the inside of the canoe, using bark buckets to throw water until we had a clean and secure shelter. A fire was built in front of the leaning canoe. We cooked the seal meat and several birds Bright Eyes and Thrower took with stones. We ate well. The meat tasted of fish.
That night, the wind blew. The sea raged between our island and the mainland, white rollers frothing down steep waves. No animals could swim out to us in this weather. A knoll in the center of the island sheltered our camp. While the wind blew and the trees groaned around us, here by the canoe it was calm and warm.
For hours, these razor stone people talked, telling stories. They carefully inspected the bone pieces. I understood they planned to carve the bone into tools.
Always, while they sat talking, some made darts for their throwers. They used branches from small willows collected at our water stops. They debarked the branches and straightened them in the heat over the fire. Using feathers from the birds they had killed and cutting points from the razor stone, they assembled darts. We girls helped as we could. Choosing feathers, lashing points—these were things we knew how to do.
The wind blew all night.
In the morning the sky was gray and still the wind blew. All this day we remained on the island. Thin Hair made a target of seaweed bound together. He leaned the target against a tree north of the knoll and the men practiced throwing darts. They began their practice close to the target, but by the afternoon they were many paces distant, nearly as far back as the leaning canoe. Thrower threw the best, always.
Then the women threw. They were just as accurate as the men. There was much laughter, and the seaweed target was remade many times. Pretty Face threw wildly. One dart he threw flew high, striking near the top of a tree. The others laughed at him and he grew angry. The dart’s shaft quivered. Later, a bird flew close and perched on the shaft, watching us.
Our second night on the island, it began to rain. We left the next morning. Long Braid and Bright Eyes placed a hide over the thwarts in the center of the canoe to make a tent where we could stay dry. The wind dropped, but the sea remained rough. We continued along the shore, always paddling.
In the afternoon, the rain stopped. The sky cleared and the air became colder. The wind increased, but now it came from behind us, blowing us south toward the sun. Fat Hair and Heavy mounted the mast and then hung the sail, a sheet of woven bark attached to the mast. The corners of the sail were tied to the canoe with bark rope.
The sail filled and bellied ahead. The canoe flew. We remained some distance from shore, now passing outside barrier islands, staying in the darker water, which I now unde
rstood was deep water. The canoe rode over surging waves. Behind us, I could see a bubbling trail marking our passage. The canoe leaned with the wind and water echoed against its thin sides. Occasionally, a large, splashing wave slopped into the canoe.
We travelled so three days. During this time, we followed the shore, first going south and then west. We spent the nights on small islands, where we watched for animals and gathered food as we could.
On the afternoon of the fourth day, the land before us changed. To the west, toward where the sun sets, lay a large high island. Beyond that, further west, I could see, just above the horizon, another island. Straight ahead, south, gray and blue water caught the sun. To the left, the shore turned east, rising to hills, then mountains. The shore stretched east as far as I could see.
Watcher shouted, and the people all sat up to look. Fat Hair pointed to the left, guiding us toward a barrier island far ahead that held a sharp peak. Beyond this island, I saw only the ocean. We sailed to the south end of this island and put ashore in a small cove against a gravel beach.
As we waited in the canoe, Pretty Face and Watcher checked for animals. This island was larger than others we had visited and was close enough to the mainland to be reached by a swimming animal. I saw a fire pit on the beach and knew these people had stayed here on their way to the headland earlier in the spring.
Pretty Face and Watcher climbed the slopes behind the cove and disappeared into trees. When they emerged some time later, we brought the canoe ashore and they spoke with Thin Hair and Fat Hair. Thin Hair listened, and then nodded. We did not pull the canoe onto the beach. Instead, we secured the canoe with an anchor stone, so we could quickly depart if we had to.
By the fire pit, Heavy and Anger assembled a lean-to frame from branches and smaller logs. They covered the frame with boughs and our wettest hides, leaving them in the sun to dry.
Long Braid and Bright Eyes started a large fire. Thin Hair, Bright Eyes, Heavy and Anger found seals not far from the cove and took two for meat. They carried the carcasses to our fire and began cutting the meat and blubber into strips. We all ate sizzling fat while waiting for the meat to cook.
Like people everywhere, the razor stone people talked not just with their tongues, but also with their eyes, faces, hands and arms, even their bodies. We understood their gestures, and in just these few days we began to understand their speech.
That night, we all sat before a big fire, we captives furthest from the flames. The watchers on the ridge had small fires of their own. Heavy and Bright Eyes were up on the ridge for the first watching time. Thin Hair and Fat Hair were talking, using sticks to draw in the sand.
“We will now make the turn,” Thin Hair said. “We must use this north wind while we can.”
“We will get the ice winds,” Fat Hair was shaking his head. I saw that Thin Hair was impatient. Fat Hair was patient and careful. They had both made this trip before, Thin Hair five times, Fat Hair three. The last two times the winds had been strong and the ice too heavy. They had never even reached the headland. “If we get too close to land we will have the ice winds and those will stop us.”
“You are too cautious to be finder,” Thin Hair said. “The places of shelter along shore are disappearing. The sea is higher, the summers hotter, and this causes the ice to move and fill the waters. The animals are more. For all these reasons we must move fast when we have a fair wind, ice wind or not.”
I saw that Fat Hair was insulted to be called too cautious. Now he was angry with Thin Hair. “The times before you and I made our trips, six times, there were no wives. Twice, no one returned at all. Then you made two trips, Thin Hair, and could not even reach the headland. Of our three trips together, we brought wives the first time, 15 summers ago, then the next two trips we never reached the headland again.”
“Always, these journeys are difficult.” Thin Hair cared not that he had insulted Fat Hair. I knew Fat Hair would not forget this insult. “With these seven, if we bring all seven, this is many.”
“We have not yet started the difficult passage. That starts tomorrow. We don’t know how many wives we will have.” Anger was not afraid to speak directly to Thin Hair and Fat Hair.
Thin Hair spoke as he drew. “There is strong ice ahead. We should reach this ice in five days. To pass the ice is two long days’ paddle. Then we cross open water to reach The Place People Were. That is half way to our home.”
“What is The Place People Were?” I asked.
“You speak.” Thin Hair was surprised.
“I have not had to paddle so I have breath to speak.”
“You may get the chance, small one. The trip is long.”
Long Braid leaned forward. “People lived at that place in the dim times, long ago, when this journey was easier, when our people travelled this way not to find wives but to look, seek, wonder. Some never returned, either killed or choosing to stay. Long, long ago, after the dark time.”
Thin Hair drew in the sand. “The Place People Were is sheltered in a deep narrow channel between high steep slopes. The water is calm always. This is a place to stop and gather strength before the rest of the journey.”
Above us, smoke rose toward a dark sky. We ate seal.
“Are there no people near you, for wives?” Cold Eye gazed at Thin Hair, warm. She had come to be sitting near him.
“The only people we know of, anywhere in the world,” Thin Hair said, “are found where the sun rests each day, where you were found, the land of smoking mountains beyond the great wide plain. Where we live, west is the ocean, north and east is the ice, south the great river, floods, and animals. Between us and the ice lie our mountains and our small land.”
Cold Eye moved closer to Thin Hair.
Long Braid, sitting next to me, gazed up the ridge toward where Bright Eyes was on watch. “Men cannot marry their sisters,” Long Braid said. “Many women die in childbirth. Our women are few. We have found nobody else on our land. We only find people at the setting sun. But the way is always difficult.” Long Braid pointed toward Bright Eyes and Heavy over the ridge. “Even among us here are two who were brought as wives earlier. Heavy is one, she arrived when she was 11 summers old. Bright Eyes is the other, she came then, too, 15 summers ago. They are now of the people.” Long Braid shared a look with Fat Hair, then turned to me. “They came to the people when they were young, not yet women. They are happy with the people.”
Watcher spoke. “Bright Eyes and I come on this journey as two who have no living children. Our son was taken by an animal when he was two summers, just as Fat Hair and Long Braid’s child was taken. If we are lucky, we will both bring home a journey child.”
Long Braid’s eyes sparkled. “If the man and wife return from a trip such as this and the wife is with child, we call that child a journey child. Such children are most precious and rare. If Fat Hair and I are blessed, we will have a journey child. Bright Eyes and Watcher, they will surely be blessed.” Long Braid began to laugh. “The way they have been practicing, I am certain she will be with child.”
Everyone laughed. It was good to laugh. Long Braid reached over and touched my arm. She pointed toward Thrower with her eyes. Thrower was at the other end of the shelter, working on one of the bone pieces.
“Thrower is a journey child. He was made 15 summers ago when Thin Hair was Pretty Face’s age, young himself, travelling with his wife, Thrower’s mother, who has been dead now 10 years. Thrower is the first journey child in many generations. When he came we people found hope.”
Heavy’s scream was terrible. The animal had been utterly silent, stalking. The men seized darts and throwers and raced toward Heavy’s fire. Bright Eyes appeared, running toward our camp. A huge bear, with a mottled coat, followed, swinging its head as it charged. The bear was now one leap from devouring her.
Thrower threw. His dart struck the bear’s chest. Three more darts struck around the b
ear’s throat, and one struck the bear’s left eye. Watcher’s dart stopped the charge, a direct throw below the shoulder into the chest. The bear fell, gushing blood. One clawed paw tore into Bright Eyes’ calf. The bear thudded to the earth.
Anger ran over the ridge, searching for Heavy. Bright Eyes was bleeding, her calf nearly torn from her leg. The bear lay on its back, a broken dart emerging from one eye. Blood covered its muzzle. Over the ridge, Anger began her loss song.
Watcher and Long Braid pushed Bright Eye’s torn muscle back into place and bound it with leather and boughs. Bright Eyes shuddered, her blood seeping.Fat Hair and Anger brought Heavy back off the ridge. Her body was torn nearly in half, her insides loose. Anger wept. We all gathered wood and built a pyre. Anger and Fat Hair placed Heavy on the pyre. Like on the sea of grass, this was their way, to burn the dead, to make them ash and release their spirit. The pyre flamed high. Heavy’s body crackled.
Bright Eyes was under robes, by the fire.
Thin Hair pointed at the dead bear. “This bear was here all day, watching. Scavengers will come, now. We must leave at daylight.” He faced us captives. “Now you must work for your lives. We have lost two of our paddlers this night. We have far to go.”
Watcher, Pretty Face and Thrower skinned the bear. The bear was too heavy to move. All they could take was the belly and chest and forelegs, still a large pelt. Thrower rolled the pelt and tied the roll with leather thongs. We cut meat from the dead bear for roasting. The bear meat was delicious after so much fishy seal. Even Bright Eyes woke to eat her share.
Stripped of its skin, the bear had muscles like a person. We covered the carcass with ash and coals. Now there were many fires: our campfire, the watcher fires on the ridge, Heavy’s pyre, and the fire built on top of the bear. Such smoke and heat would keep other animals away. We spent a long night keeping the fires high, tending to Bright Eyes, and rotating watchers. The stars rolled slowly, that night.
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